Safe...or Free?

I grip the counter, my brain refusing to believe what my ears have just heard.

“He called you what?” I ask as my heart falls into my stomach.

Surely I just misheard what she said. Surely a fourth grader doesn’t know about these things. But she says it again. I look up at Ryan, searching his face for answers. Searching his eyes for an anchor to grasp as my fears begin to take me down.

It’s twenty agonizing minutes before the other kids are in bed. Twenty minutes to find enough wisdom to speak truth into a 9 year old’s heart. And I realize I’m bankrupt. I don’t have what it takes to be a parent in these perilous times. My fear is all I can see. Those fears materializing into reality. Those nights lying awake wondering, “What if?” are now becoming “What now?” And I fight the urge to sink into despair.

We sit down and start to talk. Questions I don’t want to ask. Answers I don’t want to hear. And yet a conversation happens that will ring in my heart as one of the most precious I have ever had. I get a glimpse of her thoughts. Thoughts she often keeps guarded. I catch a peek at her heart. A heart she rarely leaves exposed. We talk about things that are uncomfortable. And we laugh. We talk about things that are scary. And we dream. We replace the secrets with light, the lies with truth, and the fears with courage.

Light, truth, and courage can only come from the One who fills my bankrupt soul to overflowing.

Yet my fears still linger. So it wasn’t as bad as I thought...but “what if…”

My instincts tell me, RUN! HIDE! Make sure that nothing bad ever happens so we can be safe.

I lie awake wrestling with my thoughts. That question still burning a hole in my mind

“What if…”

But then I hear another question. A question that send my fears running.

“What if my kids fall so madly in love with Jesus, they flood their school with light?”

“What if we stopped trying to life safe and began living free?”

“What if my kids see a mom who knows who she is in Christ and stops comparing herself to others?”

And as my fears retreat into the shadows, I’m restless for a different reason. My soul begins to stir with excitement. My heart begins to break for this boy, and for so many others who need someone to love them. Someone to share Jesus with them. After all, darkness is merely the absence of light. Darkness has no power of it’s own. It’s only when the light stops shining that darkness reigns. It can’t remain in the presence of light. And I wonder, maybe instead of shaking our heads at the darkness of the world, we should start shining the light in it. Light shines on truth, and truth always sets us free. That’s where I want to live. That’s where I choose to live. It’s always a choice, though. I can hide in my fear anytime I want. But that’s not living. That’s staying in the tomb, bound by the graveclothes of death.

And the questions keep coming...

“What if we actually made a difference in this community?”

“What if the lost were found?”

“What if our passion for Jesus won over our fear of rejection?”

“What if the blind received sight, the prisoners were set free, the broken were healed, the hopeless found hope, the lonely felt loved, the blind could see, and the outcasts invited in?”

“WHAT IF WE WERE A PART OF MAKING THIS HAPPEN?!?!? What if we stopped hiding and started shining?”

I will protect my kids to the death. I understand my responsibility to shelter them. But for too long I’ve used that as an excuse to live asleep--bound by fear, insecurity, and lies. It’s time to LIVE! I don’t want to live safe anymore. I want to live free.

The next night we’re praying together. Praying for this boy who needs hope. This boy who needs a Savior. Those kids in Costa RIca who have hardly anything. Our neighbors down the street. The girls at school who cry out for attention.

And together, we dream of the possibilities.  

It's Time to Change our Thinking

We have a clever enemy. More clever than we give him credit for. I’m only beginning to understand the battle we’re in. This battle for our minds. Isn’t that the trick, though. For how can we win a battle that we aren’t even aware is going on? But the battle is hard. It’s exhausting. I’d rather pretend it isn’t happening. I’d rather keep living asleep.

But what happens when we realize not only is there a battle raging, but that we’ve already won? What would change about our lives if we lived in the triumph of victory rather than in the hopelessness of constant defeat?

It’s so easy for Christians to believe that no matter how hard we try, we can’t earn our way to heaven. We all know this, right? Salvation is a free gift, and no amount of our good works can achieve it.

But what about God’s favor? That’s another story. I have to earn that, right? I have to do enough good things for him to be proud of me. Those days that I fail, when I yell at my kids too much, or I’m just downright selfish, then he’s disappointed in me. At least this is what we’ve been taught.

But there’s a problem with this. If God’s approval of me is based on my performance, then at what point do I receive it? If I yell at my kids ten times is he disappointed, but if it’s only three times, then I make him proud? If I wake up early and read my Bible am I worthy to be in his presence, but if I rush out the door because I overslept, then I’m not? How many mistakes in a day am I allotted? How many times can I fail before God looks at me with disappointment or disgust. Do I have to be perfect? That’s the only way, right? If we’re giving ourselves a standard, and God’s approval is based on that standard, then the only way to earn it is perfection. No wonder most of us walk through life bound by shame and fear. I’ve failed today. More than once. I failed yesterday too.

This is why the enemy is so clever. He’s made us believe that God’s view of us is measured by our performance. Do good things: make God proud. Do bad things: now we’ve disappointed him. But we can’t do enough good things. And we’re always doing the things we know we shouldn’t do. So what do we do?

Heap on the shame and the promises to do better next time. And then fail again.

How many of your promises to overcome sin have ever been fulfilled? Freedom is never found in promises to do better. Freedom is only found in discovering our identity in Christ.

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” Romans 12:2

Who doesn’t long to be transformed. Free from the bondage of sin. Free from our insecurities, our shame, our fears. It doesn’t say be transformed by trying harder. It doesn’t say be transformed by feeling bad about yourself and promising to do better next time.

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind.”

Everyone always asks, “what’s my part?”

What’s your part? Renew your mind. Exchange the lies with the truth.

When the enemy tells you God is disappointed in you, renew your mind.

He delights in you. Isaiah 62:3-4

When sin knocks at the door, renew your mind.

You’ve been set free. Galatians 5:1

When jealousy takes hold of your heart, renew your mind.

You are a new creation. 2 Corinthians 5:17

When self-pity makes itself at home, renew your mind.

The King of Kings rejoices over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17

When you fail, renew your mind.

You are more than a conqueror. Romans 8, Revelation 12:11

When you’re scared, renew your mind.

The God of heaven’s armies if fighting on your behalf. Exodus 14:14

When you believe you’re not good enough, renew your mind.

You are chosen, holy, beloved, treasured, precious, righteous, forgiven, and redeemed.

Colossians 2:12, 1 Peter 2:9-10, Colossians 1:22, Ephesians 5:27, 2 Corinthians 5:21, Ephesians 1:7, Isaiah 43:1

And let God be the one who transforms you into who he already sees that you are!!

Why do we think that grace is enough to save us from hell, but not enough to receive God’s approval for today. Are my mistakes today too big to keep me in God’s grace?

I think part of the problem is that we are afraid that if we focus too much on grace, it means we’ll keep sinning. Well, has focusing on your sin kept you from sinning?  Beloved, try something new. Just try it and see. Focus on who you are in Christ. See yourself from his perspective, and let him deal with your sin. He seems to be a lot more proficient in dealing with our sin than we are, anyway. It was his sacrifice, after all, that dealt with sin once and for all, right? Why don't we let him have a go at dealing with it today.

It’s time to live FULLY AWAKE and FULLY ALIVE!

It's time to get Jesus out of the manger

I am always astounded by the craziness that erupts at Christmas time. Not the usually condemned craziness of shopping, parties and ridiculous amounts of sugar. That craziness I love. No, it’s the craziness that erupts in Christian circles. This obsession with making one day out of the year the super most holy spiritual experience of life. While I’ve taken a break from facebook, my email has been bombarded with people telling me where I should be spending my money if I really love God. If I love God, I won’t buy presents. If I love Jesus, I would give everything I have to the poor. It’s funny that I don’t get these emails in July. Are there no poor people in July? And what makes these people assume I’m not giving to the poor? Why is it any of their business? Because somehow at Christmas time Christians feel they have the right to tell everyone the best way to worship. Well-meaning traditions become our religion as we bow down to the god of self-righteousness. As soon as you tell me that the only way to celebrate my savior is the way you do, then we have a heaping dose of full-fledged religion.

My favorite is the unceasing debate over Santa Claus. I find this discussion quite humorous. It’s as if all the evil in the world manifests itself in one make-believe man, and he is responsible for all things un-Jesus. I recently heard someone say that Jesus just can’t compete with Santa Claus. Why would kids choose Jesus when Santa is an option? Whoa, my friend! If this is the case, then I have one question: What Jesus are you giving your kids? The Jesus I know calms the sea, walks on water, heals the sick, rose from grave, conquered sin and death, and sets people free!! If your Jesus can’t compete with Santa, then maybe you have the wrong Jesus. Now don’t get me wrong, this is not a debate on whether or not you should celebrate Santa. Frankly, I don’t care if you do or not. I don’t care if you have an opinion on if I should celebrate it or not. But if the Jesus we are celebrating this Christmas can’t compete with Santa, then what hope is there for a world lost in darkness? What hope do we have for our brokenness, our addictions, our hopelessness, or our fears? Perhaps a baby in an manger can’t compete with Santa. But the incarnate God, word-become-flesh, death-conquering, life-giving, chain-breaking, life-giving, miracle-working, closer-than-your-skin, fear-shattering JESUS can compete with ANYTHING!! If you really want to use this argument, then we must apply it to the rest of life. Can your Jesus compete with your schedule...with sports...with your kids...your responsibilities...facebook...with the things that make you feel important? If he can’t, then we have the WRONG Jesus! Maybe that’s the problem, though. Maybe our kids see the baby in the manger and run to Santa because he’s more exciting. Maybe I do that too. After all, I can stare at the computer for an hour and claim to be too busy to spend time with the ONE who ransomed me from death.

I think that if we saw Jesus as HE REALLY IS, then we wouldn’t be so worried about everything else. This man, who came full of glory and grace, is not a feeble baby. Yes, he came as one, but that is not the Jesus I am celebrating this Christmas. Funny how he never asks us to remember him that way. Remember his death, yes. Remember his resurrection, with every breath. Maybe we like the baby in the manger. After all, a baby can be contained. A baby can be held. A baby can be controlled. I don’t want a Jesus who can be contained. I want the Jesus who went to hell and back for me. I am celebrating the Jesus who lives and breathes within me. I am celebrating the conquering hero who set me free from my fears, my insecurities, and my brokenness. I am celebrating the Jesus who rescued me from the kingdom of darkness and brought me into the kingdom of light.

What if we took all the fervor that magically appears in the month of December and actually applied it to our every-day lives? What if we stopped anticipating his coming that starry night, and began basking in his closeness right here and now? He is already here! What if we stopped living in preparation for his birth and started living with the giddy joy of a bride for the day he comes back for us!

However you celebrate Christmas is up to you. That’s the beauty of grace. There is no right way to worship. If your traditions bring you closer to the REAL Jesus, then do them with wild abandon. But, if your traditions make you feel more spiritual than someone else or entice you to believe that they will somehow make you more holy, then watch out! The thief comes to steal and destroy, especially by giving you religion instead of Jesus.

If we meet with the living, breathing, death-defying JESUS this Christmas, December 26th will be just as magical as December 25th. Do you remember the shepherds? Our nativity scenes show them looking fondly on the sweet baby Jesus. Maybe someone should make a nativity where the shepherds are running through the town SHOUTING THE GOOD NEWS!! That’s what happens when we encounter Jesus as he truly is. Life will never be the same.

Miracle

MIRACLE

The word flashed across the despair in my soul like lightning across a black sky.

This would be the year of miracles. A promise given to a desperate heart.

The word came to me as I cried out to God for answers. I always ask God what the next year will hold. He always tells me, although I never see it fulfilled until the end. So, when I asked him this past January what the year 2013 would hold, his whisper rang clearly in my heart. MIRACLE.

Five situations in my life desperately needed a miracle. Clinging to the promise of THE miracle worker, I hoped expectantly that each of these situations would be redeemed in the year 2013.

So I believed. This would be the year of miracles.

So I prayed. This would be the year of miracles.

So I waited. This would hopefully be the year of miracles.

So I grew impatient. Maybe it wouldn’t be the year of miracles.

So I gave up hope. This clearly wasn’t the year of miracles.

Not only have these miracles not come to pass, some of them seem more hopeless than before. God felt distant. Silent. Inattentive to my prayers. Uncaring of my plight.

I begged God to do something. Show me your power! I believe! I believe you can part the Red Sea. I believe you can tear down the walls of Jericho. I believe you can slay a giant. I believe that you can conquer any enemy that comes against me. But what I need you to do right now is perform a couple miracles in my life!!!

And then came the whispers of doubt. If he cared about me, he would do this for me. Why would he give me a promise only to leave me disappointed? These miracles aren’t just shallow wishes. Not some things that I think will make my life happier or easier. These are heart-breaking, gut-wrenching problems that are sucking the life out of me.

A stranger in church on Sunday told me to read the gospel of John. He said God wanted to show me how much he loves me through it. I would rather he show me how much he loves me by doing what I want him to do.

But I listened. I read. And I gaped at what I discovered.

John 2:11

This miraculous sign at Cana in Galilee was the first time Jesus revealed his glory. And his disciples believed in him.

John 2:23

Because of the miraculous signs Jesus did in Jerusalem at the Passover celebration, many began to trust in him.

John 3:2

Your miraculous signs are evidence that God is with you.

John 4:48

Jesus asked, “Will you never believe in me unless you see miraculous signs and wonders?”

And then the whisper that’s been silent for so long, broke into the silence.

My child, for a year and a half I’ve been teaching you that you don’t have to perform for me.

But why do I have to perform for you?

You don’t need to perform to earn my favor. Why must I perform to earn your trust?

You don’t need to perform to be deserving of my blessing. Why must I perform to be deserving of your praise?

You don’t need to perform to win my presence. Why must I perform to win your heart?

This is the year of miracles. But maybe the miracle he was talking about was the miracle that would take place in me. For to trust completely when there is no miracle is perhaps the greatest miracle of all.

The heart that believes in his goodness when nothing good is happening around us.

The heart that is whole when life breaks into pieces.

The faith that stands firm when dreams are shattered.

The strength to keep moving when the way is shrouded in darkness.

These are the miracles that God will perform when we are ready to receive them. But these are the miracles that happen because we want HIM and not what he will do for us.

These are the miracles that part red seas, tear down walls, slay giants, defeat armies, release captives, raise the dead, open the eyes of the blind, and calm the raging storm. These are the miracles that awaken a soul that has for too long slept waiting for a miracle.

Of course I couldn’t hear his voice the past few months.

We will never know his heart when our gaze is fixed on his hand.

I believe in THE great miracle worker, and I won’t stop believing that he will redeem the brokenness around me. But for now I rejoice because he is redeeming the brokenness within me. And that is a miracle only Yahweh can perform.

Jelly Beans and Jesus

I just might offend you with this post. Please forgive me if I do, but I can’t hold in what’s inside of me right now. I’m frustrated. I’m angry. I’m sad. The beauty of my Easter weekend has been tainted by well-meaning words. I just read a blog post by someone whose heart desires to live in the fullness of Christ. I wish this person no disrespect, but I am angry because of the words I just read.

It happens twice a year. Every Christmas and Easter, we are bombarded with how evil American commercialism is and how unspiritual we are if every moment of every day surrounding these holidays is not about Jesus. This past week plastic eggs suddenly became the symbol of all that is corrupt in this world. The words I read today told me that Easter dresses and plastic eggs take away from the true meaning of Easter, and that the money used should have gone to the poor people around the world. I didn’t buy Easter dresses for my kids. That’s not what frustrates me.

I’m frustrated because it doesn’t seem to fit my view of who Jesus is. When he walked this earth, he lived with his people. They went to parties. They ate fish. They sat on the beach. He told the spiritual people that they’d missed the point. Now don’t get me wrong, Easter is a beautiful day, and yes it is about Jesus. But so is making memories as a family. While we decorated eggs as a family, Jesus was there. While we hunted for the one egg no one could remember hiding, Jesus was there. While I ate half the mini-snickers that were supposed to go into the eggs, Jesus was there. While I fixed my four-year old’s hair with the new bow she received, telling her how much our Savior loves her, Jesus was there. He was also there when we did our devotions the week leading up to Easter. He was there when we talked about his sacrifice. He was there as the tears streamed down on Sunday morning singing “You make beautiful things out of the dust.” He was there because celebrating his resurrection means living in the fullness of our life with him. We went on a hike Sunday afternoon. That was just as spiritual as singing that morning in church. Why? Because his Presence is in me! That’s what Easter is about. He came to give us life—His life, in us.

So what do I do with what I’ve read? Do we live in excess in America? Absolutely. But I have a hard time with messages that tell us that we should stop spending and give to the starving children in Africa. You see, five years ago, we moved to Colorado and my husband couldn’t find a job. There were no jobs. We lived on food stamps. We paid our bills with credit cards. We knew how bad debt was, but we didn’t have a choice. Then my husband started a remodeling business. All those materialistic Americans who cared more about redoing their homes than the poor kept our roof over our heads. They put food on our table. I don’t know what we would have done if they hadn’t cared about getting new things for their homes. They could have chosen to give their money away. But their money saved our life.

So I live with this tension. How do I live my life as a drink offering poured out to Christ? Does hiding plastic eggs take away from his sacrifice? If so, then grace must not be as powerful as I thought. Can I sacrifice a new Easter dress to offer hope to a child living in poverty. Yes I can, and it’s actually not that difficult. It’s easy for me to give something up and write a check to a good cause. What truly requires sacrifice is taking time out of my day to talk with a hurting mom in my son’s class. It costs me something to expose my kids to “the world” in an effort to bring the love of Jesus to people hungry and thirsty for life. It’s easy for me to send money to someone I’ll never meet, but to watch a football game with a family whose values differ from ours is extremely difficult.

I’m not saying that one thing is more spiritual than another. All I’m saying is that the finger pointing needs to end. As soon as we start thinking that we are more spiritual than someone else because we give up more or do more, then we are no different from the Pharisees.

Yes, Easter is so much more than plastic eggs and chocolate bunnies. But if even we’re comparing the two, then we don’t realize just how big Jesus really is. I don’t think his invitation to grace is lessened by a few jelly beans. And who knows, maybe he can even use a jelly bean or a plastic egg to show how close he really is.

That’s the Jesus I believe in.

A Glimpse of Heaven

A glimpse of heaven—that’s what I found in the dust of Ethiopia. In the midst of the stench of poverty, heaven rained down on my feeble heart.

I didn’t want to go. Fear, my faithful friend, won the reigns of my mind yet again. And I fought going with every excuse imaginable. What about the kids…the house…the timing…the finances…All valid excuses. But when God is moving, it’s always best to join in the flow rather than fight his current. That didn’t stop me from fighting, though. I’ve actually become quite a proficient fighter. If only I could fight the enemy with the same passion that I fight my God.

So much to my chagrin, I found myself on the dusty soil of Ethiopia. The place my husband calls home—the farthest place I could imagine from my home. And it was here that the scales from my human eyes fell away. It wasn’t the beautiful landscape, although it was there in abundance. It wasn’t the amazing purpose I felt while I was there, although I will admit I felt more alive than I’ve felt in years. No, it was something completely unexpected that opened my eyes.

If fear is what holds us captive, then it’s always love that sets us free.

I planned for a lot of things for this trip. I planned for preventing malaria. I planned for stopping diarrhea. I planned for the weather, the time-change, and the food. I did not plan to fall in love.

But fall in love I did.

How do you describe what it feels like to be greeted by 20,000 people? People who don’t know you, but are desperate just to shake your hand. People so grateful for the good news of grace, they walk for days to celebrate what God has done.  They sleep on the grass and sit for hours, watching with exhilaration the culmination of God’s promise. Smiles so big, you melt in their warmth.

The dedication of a Bible school brought 21 Americans to Ethiopia. The dedication of a Bible school brought 20,000 Ethiopians to the small town of Yirgachafe. But it was love that brought us together. A love that is so deep, it reaches into the depths of our sinfulness. A love so wide, it covers the chasm our hopelessness. A love so high, it rains down healing for our brokenness.

That’s what happened on the dusty roads of Ethiopia. Rain poured down in the middle of the dry season. Rain poured down on weary hearts, regardless of the color of our faces. Heaven met earth with a sweet, intoxicating kiss. But this is only a taste. It's only the beginning. The feast is yet to come.

If we’ve stopped believing in a God of miracles, it isn’t because He doesn’t exist. It’s because we can’t see Him in our busyness and selfishness. A God of miracles demands our attention, but we’re too busy looking at ourselves, our problems, our dreams, and our disappointments. Or maybe we’re just simply too scared. We get comfortable in our captivity. Fear becomes our friend. Freedom means action. Freedom means moving out of the shadows and into the Light. But what if we like the shadows?

A glimpse of heaven—that’s what I found in Ethiopia. And with new eyes, I’m home again with my kids, my house, my time, and my finances. To believe in a God of miracles, it requires my attention. If I’m looking somewhere else, I will miss what He is doing. Will I succumb to my fear once more? Will I continue to fight against God, or will I engage in the battle for truth?

What do I do with what I’ve seen?

Well, I guess you’ll just have to stay tuned to find out!

Where are you God?

A senseless tragedy. A raging lunatic. A broken community. A country in shock.

How could this happen, we ask as we think about the unimaginable pain of the victims? Where is God in all of this? Couldn’t he have prevented this? The comments fly on facebook. Anger causes people to say unthinkable things. “Death is too sweet for this madman…Hell is not a good enough punishment…” I understand their anger. I see the desperation of their hearts. I know how sharply the thought of going through this pierces the soul.

Our hearts cry out as fear creeps in. We blame the schools. We blame the laws. We search for some way to understand this devastation. The normal reaction is to protect. Attempt to control our lives so that nothing like this ever happens. We close in to ourselves, making sure that all protective barriers are in place.

Things like this cause me to wonder many things. Horror is followed quickly by anger, which is never far from fear.

And I cry out, “Where are you God?”

His response? “In you.”

A world in darkness has seen a great light. Yet we bask in the light of Christmas while the world waits in hopelessness, desperate for a Savior.

A couple years ago, I was deeply immersed in ministry. I was involved in everything at church. Teaching, writing, leading, planning. Driving 25 minutes to church several times a week in order to change the lives of those I would minister to. A lady two houses down from me committed suicide one afternoon. I had never met her. I didn’t even know her name.

And I cry out, “Where are you God?”

“In you.”

Yes, we have a problem in this country. But it’s not the problem that everyone is raging about. People living in darkness can’t see where they are going. How can we expect them to? We shine the light on our own families and circles, and then we are shocked to find that the world is drowning in darkness. For the month of December, we catch a glimpse of the despair. We see pictures of starving people in Africa. We remember the homeless downtown. But no one reminds us about the boy in a third grade class whose anger is building because he gets made fun of on a daily basis. No one tells us to reach out to the family down the street because the dad is an alcoholic and the children live in constant fear. We drive across town and send our money overseas to help with noble causes. But there are children in our schools, our neighborhoods, and maybe even our churches who are lonely and hopeless, crying out for help. When will the church wake up? How many tragedies will it take before we stop hiding in fear and start bringing the light of Jesus to a dark and dying world?

Every single “monster” who has committed one of these heinous crimes has a story of deep loneliness, hopelessness, and darkness. So tonight, yes, hold your children close. Cling to them, sing to them, and thank God it wasn’t them. But remember that there may be a child down the street from you who isn’t being held tonight. A child desperate for the light, but stumbling in the darkness.

“Where are you God?”

“In you.”

And if we grasp this, then a world living in darkness will indeed see a great LIGHT!!!