Ripples of Redemption

I'm in a place of needing to reflect on the faithfulness of God in the tough places.  So here it goes...

About two years ago, our case of Selah's injury came to a close.  (If you'd like to read a bit more about that, go to my "God gives us 'just enough' trials.' entry from October 2016)  It was one of the most terrifying times of my life.  I genuinely thought that just surviving it would be enough.  Just make it through the social workers, parental observations, lawyers, family scheduling for 24/7 care and such.  If I just survived it, if my family survived it, I trusted that the faithfulness of God would be seen in it, even as hard as it was.  I could tell you story after story of the grace of God in it, from the crisis intervention guy from the state calling us a "pleasure" to work with because we treated him respectfully in the middle of our grief, to finding favor with our parental supervisors, to friends and family coming through in the clutch, to so much more.  I thought that the steadfast faith God gave me, Him being the glue that held us together, the grace we got to be to those around us, I really thought that was enough.

God had so much more in mind.

This past summer, I went to my counseling class that was on campus at Liberty University for my working toward Marriage and Family Therapy degree.  It was a skills class, and one of the classmates who was my faux "counselor" to practice the skills, was a great listener to my story.  She remained calm but reflected my emotions well, which was what we were trying to do.  However, she told me afterward that she had to contain herself because her sister just happened to have gone through the exact same thing that we did just months earlier.  There was an unexplained injury to her sister's child, her sister had to be watched and interrogated, and my classmate's faith felt completely shattered at an unfair situation. However, after hearing my story and how God held us together in all the anguish, she told me she believed she needed to meet me and God had designed it.  She saw the strength God has provided in the middle of the injustice of our situation, and that I came out on the other side not bitter or angry.  Yes, I still have residual fear of bringing my kids into the doctor for small injuries (as part of the aftermath of that situation), but the Lord was my anchor.  She said it was amazing that I had experienced the same kind of duress as her sister experience, but could hear and see how God kept me close through it all, and she desperately needed to see that after watching her sister's hardships.

If that experience weren't enough, two weeks ago I had to go to church to get my staff photo taken for the church's website, and one of the other staff members asked if I was going to the staff meeting after and I said I couldn't because of having the kids and no sitter.  Her daughter offered to watch them and I was so excited to be able to go and just feel connected to the whole staff.  However, at the meeting I originally was not supposed to be at, there was an announcement that an Iraqi acquaintance of our church had gotten in touch with a staff member because, lo and behold, they had an unexplained injury to their child and were being investigated by social services.  I was stunned.  I immediately raised my hand and briefly said I had experienced the same type of issues a couple of years ago and I would love to talk with them about my experience and see if I could offer support.  By God's grace, I ended up being able to meet with the family that evening and was able to explain my story to them and help guide them in their understanding and what to expect from the situation.  They were grateful and I ended up being able to prepare them for their meeting with the social worker last week.  Because of our preparation together they knew what to expect and remained calm during the entire process of being told they would have to be supervised with their children like we were.  They ended up in tears, absolutely understandable and expected, but their anger had tapered off as they understood more of what was coming.  I will end up stopping by their home to check on them in the future and hope to build a relationship with them and be a light of the Gospel to them as well.

God is good.  He is faithful.  He saw these needs of these families before the creation of the world and wanted these families to see Himself, so He redeems my story yet again.

On another note, before I had met my husband, I had a boyfriend before him for a year and half.  He was a young man trying to re-prioritize, get his life back on track, and struggling with who he wanted to be.  He was kind to me, helped me see I was more capable than I believed myself to be, and was overall good to me.  However, he always struggled with commitment and once I moved an hour away, our relationship fell apart and he cheated on me.  This was one of those things that I genuinely thought would never happen to me.  I was in my mid-20s and as loyal as they come.  I thought no one would ever cheat on me because I was such a faithful person (naïve, I know, but it's what I thought).  I didn't know how to process this and the residual effect afterward.  I met my husband shortly after that, and we were married a year later.  My scars from that time did make me a little untrusting at times, but overall, I thought my resilience from the situation was the point.  The Lord held me together as I fell apart, an important thing I held on to as I struggled with things from Selah's situation, and I felt that was all I needed to learn.

About the end of the Selah situation, we moved here to the home we now reside in.  We met our young neighbor from behind us, but didn't know much about him.  But all over time, his story was eerily reminiscent of my ex's story.  He was from the same town in MN, he had a tattoo of MN on his body too, he was a young man who used to party but was now about 5 hours away from home, he goes back to visit his "friends" but doesn't really feel connected with them anymore as he's starting to mature, and the list goes on and on.  If I had met my ex in his early 20s, our neighbor would have been a lot like him.  Trying to find his way, yet feeling so lost at the same time.  As I put the pieces together, I about cried.  In all of my heartache at the time in 2011, I never would have dreamed that in 2017, I'd be having a deep conversation with another young man so similar to him.  I remembered with so much empathy the pain my ex was going through trying to figure out where he was going, and I walked into the conversation a few weeks ago with my neighbor with so much compassion that he couldn't believe how well I understood him and his stories.  He also was attentive to my couple of insights and questions as I listened to him, because he felt so understood by me.  I had no idea that God would use my struggle, my heartache, my anger, and my redemption to be able to manifest itself in His Love for my neighbor. 

God has shown that he saw my neighbor's struggles years before he would be struggling.  He already had a plan to show him Grace by using my story SIX YEARS LATER to point my neighbor toward Redemption...I promise you, Jesus sees your story too.  He loves you and has plans to point you toward himself, and he may use your heartache to change someone else's life too.  You never know how God is working behind the scenes, both in you and on your behalf.  Trust Him, He will carry you.

2 Corinthians 1:3-5
Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too.

We so often lean on the words of "comfort" used in this set of verses.  But I'd like to remind us, in verse 5 it says, "For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings..."  My friends, we will suffer.  Jesus guarantees it in the Gospel.  We don't get to get out of this life scar-free.  We just don't.  He will work miracles, He will rescue us at times.  But many times He won't.  He will walk with us through our pain and suffering and the pain reminds us that:
1)  This world is not our home.
2)  Sin has really broken this world.
3)  We have to lean INTO Him and not away from Him, for He is the Everlasting Hope

Romans 8:28 is a commonly misunderstood verse about "All things work together for the good of those who love him and are called according to his purpose." When this verse is actually put into it's correct context when you realize the entire passage is about an Eternal Redemption.  Put in it's proper situation within the passage, it does NOT promise that you will get "better things down the road."  That is completely off the mark of the actual passage.  We are GUARANTEED suffering in this life by Jesus himself and throughout the New Testament and we are not ever promised in Scripture things will get better in this life.  We are not, ever.  I wish we were.  When bad things happen though, Romans 8 reminds us that in Eternity, things will be set right.  Our relationship with God and to each other will be as it should be.  The things we went through in this life will be redeemed through the work of the cross.  We will get to watch on the precipice of our lives and look over it and see God's handiwork throughout the course of our ups and downs.  And we will fall on our knees in our newly rectified bodies and give all glory for the Tapestry of Life God has made for us individually and corporately to Him that wove the Tapestry in the first place. 

I'm sorry I can't guarantee health, marriage, happiness, the right jobs, etc. to anyone reading this...but at the same time, I'm not completely sorry...because I guarantee you, as C.S. said that God whispers through tangible blessings but pain is His megaphone.  It shows how broken we are and the world is without Him and He beckons us to return to Him.  He doesn't want the pain for us, but it reminds us of why rejecting Him is such a painfully broken way to live.  He wants us to return to Him.

I wanted to reflect on how God has used my pain to bring hope to others, because I, like the nation of Israel, have "spiritual amnesia."  I don't reflect on God's faithfulness as often as I wish I would.  It's such a place of solace, that even in our broken places...not only does He see our pain, but He will use it to bring others closer to Himself.  And as the Apostle Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 4:16-18, "Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.  So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal."

If we are struggling now, may we fix our eyes on the eternal, knowing that even if we don't see justice and peace now, we are guaranteed we Ultimately will.

If God has graced us with perseverance to move to a new season beyond the affliction, may we be attentive to who He puts in our path that we may give light and hope to as we have experienced His "comfort" and so desire to pass that "comfort" on that we have seen.

Grace Toward Self? A Life-Long Battle

All of my life, I've struggled with my behavior being indicative of my worth.  I remember having this inner turmoil since childhood.  I wanted to do things right the first time around, I liked the praise of others and worked extremely hard to get it, and failing was not an option.  I expected more of myself than anyone else, and part of my struggle was I projected on others what I thought that they thought of me and expected of me, even when I had no real reason to do so.  I give myself next to no leeway, even now.  To be fair to myself, I'm not as hard on myself as I used to be, but I still can't shake my inner desire to do well every time and not fail.  When I do fail, I barrage myself with things I should have or could have done better.  It's like a tidal wave of second guessing and self-bashing.  "I should have known better," "I should have followed my gut," "I should have thought this through better," "You're so stupid..." are all common phrases that have become part of my regular thought life.  It would be one thing if I were looking to grow from these phrases, but I'm not.  I'm looking to make myself feel belittled for falling short.  I don't know why I do it.  Truthfully, it's probably something I should talk about with my counselor to have an outside perspective who will ask me questions.  But this is a very real part of my life and I don't ever remember being anything other than self-deprivating.  I'm working on it, and like I said I have gotten way better than I used to be, but it became clear to me today that I still don't get it...

The reason why was I was listening to the audiobook version of Michelle Anthony's book "Spiritual Parenting."  This book is a really amazing and big-picture view of the Gospel, moving away from behavior-centered parenting and helping our children understand the heart that underlies their actions.  She conveys a story of her 16-year-old daughter, at the time, who was begging to be able to have a night alone in the house where she could invite a couple of friends over and hang out, be able to cook and watch movies.  They were reluctant as parents to indulge her.  But, they gave her a shot when their church had an overnight retreat for couples and their son was away at a friend's for the night.  They wanted her to spread her wings under their roof.  However, this chance to make choices for their daughter ended up being a phone call early the next morning to her parents with her crying on the other end saying, "I'm so sorry, mom."  Turns out that her friends had invited other friends and the low-key night in turned into a huge party with illegal activities, people she didn't know, and police knocking on the door of the home.  The police who, by the way, this daughter's dad was the chaplain for.  They even walked into the home, reportedly, and said, "Isn't this chaplain Anthony's house?!  Nice."

Michelle, as the mother, was seething.  The house had been reported to be a dump and her husband went home first from the retreat so Michelle could cool down.  She started praying and couldn't shake the feeling that even though she wanted to have her daughter pack up her things to spend the rest of the summer somewhere else, that she should have her daughter pack up her things for a different reason...a getaway with mom.  Michelle says all the went through her mind and heart, after some fairly normal visceral reaction, was, "She has forgotten who she is.  Remind her."  Michelle followed this cue, after having her daughter write an essay on what belonging to Jesus looks like at 16-years-old (which the essay itself is jaw-dropping), and took her on a weekend retreat up to the mountains.  They talked, ate, shopped, surfed and other activities.  Michelle reminded her that not only was she still valuable and loved by her mother, but that she needed to remember Whose she was.  Taking her away for a little bit helped reset her mind, and the rest of her high school years.  (Although, after she returned, she still had a list of consequences for her actions, but she was reminded that her actions are not her identity).

You may disagree with her methods, but that aside, her daughter's retreat was 3 years previous to the writing of the book.  However, the daughter had written her a Mother's Day card from college that year she was writing the book.  She thanked her very specifically for that trip after such a huge mistake.  She said that she realized that at a time where her mom could have easily pushed her away for her actions, instead, she drew her closer.  She stated this had taught her that when she also made mistakes in life, that she didn't have to run and hide, but could bring her actions to a God, who in her grief, would hold her close and not shake his finger at her.  She understood now that there were consequences still for bad decisions, but that because her identity was in Christ, she knew she could run TO the Father instead of running AWAY from the Father.

I, without any warning, burst into tears as I was setting up the Preschool area at church.  My tears startled me so much that I actually didn't know what to do with them.  I kept working and on my drive to Starbucks just now, I realized why it effected me so instantaneously.  I realized that when I behave badly, I DO hide.  I'm so embarrassed, afraid of His disapproval...thinking I have embarrassed Him, that He will see me as "less than" because of my actions, I'm afraid that I've moved down on his approval list (that I've lost GPA points in His great system)...I just run away and hide or deny that I made the action in the first place.  Even writing this, it's completely not biblical and complete nonsense in general.  I realized my tears were that even with all of my years in the church, there was so much more to understand about grace.  I don't see at all how Christ sees me or why he would find me worthy to die for.  I fight every day to earn grace.  This is just insanity.

But maybe that is what makes grace so remarkable in the first place.  It's the fact that we get small glimpses of grace, and when we get those small glimpses as human beings (not even just as believers, but in general), it moves something deep in our soul.  It moves in us a built-in longing to be able to release our guilt and shame. We KNOW our striving will never be good enough, our legacy will never be long enough, our painfully bad decisions have nowhere to go for release if we are just atoms banging together.  There is no relief from past guilt and shame.  Even if we "move on," the guilt still lingers.  The questions still linger.  When we are in bed at night by ourselves and we second guess every decision we've made up unto that point, where does it go?  No matter if we try to treat our bad actions and the bad decisions of others as if they didn't happen, we are never truly satisfied.  We have something in us that knows that no matter how "good" we are, we always fall short.  We know it in our hearts because He has written it on us that there is something missing, and it's Him.  The fact that He himself comes down to bridge the gap we cannot, no matter how hard we try, is incomprehensible and humbling.  I've realized I don't know what it is to just "be" with him, I always have to have worked hard, put my time in, almost like the older brother in the story of the Prodigal.  But today was another reminder, in this lifelong marathon of experiencing grace, that works don't make me more loved.  It's trusting in the faithfulness of the Father to me in the middle of my brokenness that brings me to new levels of understanding of grace.

Today has reminded me that I still have not even scratched the surface of grace.  Maybe I, like Michelle's daughter, have lost that identity in who He is.  Maybe my striving to prove myself worthy, and hoping to show that I am worth His sacrifice really actually shows that I don't understand grace as much as I think.  Maybe I've missed the Gospel in how I see myself and my identity is overall misplaced.  But my Father is standing with His arms wide open and invites me to lay down the "try harder" burden, express my regret of trying to take on a self-salvation process, and immerse myself in who He is and who He has called me to be because of His Great Grace in Jesus.  Maybe I need to turn to Him in my mistakes and falling short and say, "Thank you that you've already caught me in my fall because I am Yours.  Remind me of who You say I am in You."  Instead of my internal voice being used as a weapon that Satan can use to rip me to shreds, turning back to the One who finds humanity, including me, so valuable that He gave His life that He shouldn't "have had" to give.  He is so good, so kind, so faithful, that He continues to chip away at these concepts in my life over and over again.  He is the Perfect Parent, and He will walk with me through my own journey as a Child of God in parenthood as well.  I'm so grateful that He is so patient with me.  I'm grateful for the reality of his Grace today all over again.

When He could have pushed me away, instead He draws me close.

I am loved.  I am whole, seen and known because of who He is, what He's done, and Whose He says I am.  I pray I continue to grow from here.

When Friendships Shift

I have been contemplating my friendships in life of late.  I had to fill out a sheet that reflected on my friendships both past and present.  I realized because of that exercise how much movement had happened throughout my adult life.  It also made me see how fondly I thought of so many people.  But I also immediately felt guilt about how many friends I had not seen or talked to recently.  Did they know that I would always care?  Should I start trying to plan lunches with people?  But that would take forever and I have the kids all day, school at night and church job on the weekends?  I love all of these people and I struggled feeling like maybe I had abandoned some of them.  It may be silly, but friendship is so important to me and I invest in a lot of people over time.

I spent some time this week praying about what weighed on my heart.  As I listened to my God-Centered Mom podcast, her interview this week was a review episode with Susan Seay from a couple of years ago. She was talking about shifting friendships for all of us as humankind, saying she had heard an illustration about friendships being trains.  We all have individual tracks that we are assigned to our train.  None of our paths are the same.  However, we do meet at certain stations that we are assigned to go to.  Sometimes we stay longer at a station than others and we create deeper connections, but we still eventually leaves.  Our friendships have seasons, some shorter and some longer, but they are all designed for us at certain times and certain places with certain depths to them.  Seay even made the point that sometimes we are reluctant to leave our designated stations because of the connections we have made.  We resist leaving because we are so comfortable where we are and who we are with that it makes us resist good and God-given change.  However, because God is sovereign, we will always get to where we need to be.

This analogy gave me food for thought.  It is hard for me to accept that I can only be with people that I care about for a time.  Loyalty is one of my top priorities and I don't like the feeling of "leaving others behind."  It may sound silly, but it's true.  My friends know me to be a loyal and kind friend and I wouldn't want to be seen any other way.  I see people as valuable and relationships as virtual gold.  So, this illustration was both stressful and relieving to me at the same time.  I know I'm not perfect, but I really try to have the backs of my friends as much as I can and don't mind moving things around to do things for them or be there for them.  But this was a reality check for me, and maybe it is for other friends who struggle with friendships when they "shift."  The only thing that is forever is our relationship with Christ and we are to be, of course, dedicated in our lives with our spouses and children.  But God has me on a set on tracks that he has designed. 

My friends in different geographic locations, my single years, my initial married years, my initial parenting years and now my work-school-parenting-spousal years are different.  I need to remind myself that it's okay that it is this way!  My friends also have their own tracks, and we shared a station for a designated time!  What a beautiful thing for us!  We were able to love and encourage each other for those assigned seasons and then the Lord led us on with the sweet marks of those friendships still living on in our lives.  We are who we are because partially those friends were who they were and had the relationship we had.  God gets the glory from all of the pieces of our lives, including these relationships that have their times and seasons.  He shows us his grace through those relationships, in all of their ups and downs.  But just because I am not close with all of the people I used to be close to doesn't mean it wasn't God's design to have it that way.  He has his purpose and he has designed my life and yours to get all of the glory from it, in all of our relationships:  past, present and future.

I'm the type of person who will always care, will always want to catch up with a friend I haven't seen in ages...my friends always matter to me and I have open arms for them!  But just because the intimacy of friendships dissipate over time and in different seasons, doesn't mean it is not a purposeful or meaningful relationship designed by God.  So, instead of being fearful of shifting friendships (especially for me in this time of work-school-parenting-spousal years...my life is NUTS!), I will choose to trust in the God who has put me on the train track I'm on, I will love and cultivate the relationships he puts in my stations, and I will desire to follow him (even in leaving those stations).  I will always mourn relationships that change intimacy levels, because my heart just loves people and hurts in loss, but I will not panic about the change itself.   I will work to be responsible with the hearts of my dear friends...but also accept my season and draw appropriate and God-honoring boundaries in my life.

I'm a work in progress.  But this analogy has helped give me food for thought!

Does My Sin Grieve Me?

God is working on me on my own sin awareness, this is my stream of consciousness on the subject as it stands now.

I wish I took my own sin more seriously.  I often have thoughts on the sins and missteps of those I know and see myself reflecting the thoughts of the Pharisees..."Here's the letter of the law and your actions do not measure up."  Swift condemnation for the actions of others, while not judging the thoughts of my own heart with the same measuring stick.  In fact, I often use the actions of others to justify myself.  I think, "Well, at least I don't [fill in the blank]."  I completely excuse or downplay my own thoughts and behaviors toward other Image Bearers of Christ (any living breathing human being, no matter how deplorable their actions are to me), and guess what?  My ego gets a kick out of that.  I feel superior, and I like that.  It makes me feel that on the my perceived "sliding scale" of sin, at least I'm higher on it than other people.  I'm a whitewashed tomb.  I look nice on the outside, while I refuse to look at the bones on the inside.  My sin makes me dead without Christ.  Period.

Today, I've started to pray for seeing the depth of my sin and that I would view the sin with the grief that I should.  Little did I realize how quickly the Lord would take me up on that.  I was going through my list of podcasts as I cleaned today and two in a row were on the depths of sin (I'd not heard a podcast on that topic in well over a year, and here were two) and the importance of confession.  I was not prepared for the tears that would flow as the Lord allowed my children to play happily outside together as I was cleaning and folding laundry just listening away.

The first podcast was called, "Still Sinning After All These Years."   *GULP*  While there were many points that affected me, to the point I will keep that podcast and re-listen at several points in the future, the one that stood out to me the most was how we look at Adam and Eve, and so rarely see ourselves in them.  Blame is so quickly passed.  Excuses made.  Sin is so easily downplayed in ourselves.  But we often recognize the slightest blemish on others.  Instead of seeking to bring the relationship with Christ back into congruence, we like and relish in our sins and often don't realize it.  It's the epitome of taking the log out of your own eye before dealing with the speck in someone else's eye.  But here's the thing, I often look at others and say, "Well, sure, I did *this,* but at least I'm not as bad as *that person*" or, "Well, here's the reason I did that.  I wasn't caught so it's okay.  Sure, God sees everything, but I'm forgiven anyway.  So I'll just move on."  I don't want to deal with my sin.  I don't want to see how broken it makes me.  I don't want to look at my thoughts of anger, jealousy, greed as anything more than blips on the proverbial radar of life.  I don't want to look at my mountain of sin.  I want to see the sins of others and feel justified in my anger.  Because what my friend did was wrong, what that politician did was wrong, and I have little to no mercy in my judgments.  It's not that they aren't wrong, but the truth is the LOG in my own eye is completely ignored...but my judgment of others is swift, condemning and self-righteous.  I look and Adam and Eve and say, "Well, that's just dumb.  You all are blame shifting and wanting to look down on others.  You need to take a deep look at yourselves first before making such swift condemnation of the other."  Oh wait, have I mentioned I don't do that to myself?  I never hold myself to the same standards as others.  My heart is so deeply sinful that this asking the Lord to help me see it is absolutely terrifying.  I'm listening to these "happenstance" podcasts today and I find myself in them.  I want to see my sin the way God does, because if I do not,  I will miss more of the depths of the grace of the Gospel.  I can't see how deep the love and grace for me really go until I begin the plumb the depths of my own sin, self-righteous and self-justifying condemnations of others, and own up to what is truly mine.  The truth is, I don't even know how truly deep the possibilities of sin and evil things of which I am capable even go!  I need to experience grief for my sin, see His grace for what it is, and then personify that grace to others.  But if I don't know the cesspool of sin in my heart, no wonder my judgment of others is so quick and my grace-giving is so slow.

Not only do I need awareness of my sin, but I need to know the importance of confession (something I had not asked for in my original prayer this morning).  The other podcast was called "Confessing Our Way to Joy."  In the podcast, he gives an illustration of his son and grandson and an interaction they'd had after the boy had done something he knew he wasn't supposed to do.  After the discipline had been administered, dad held his son as he cried.  Over the next few minutes, the dad felt his son's body relax.  Then, out of nowhere, the cries started anew and even harder than before.  Dad asked, "Buddy, why are you crying?"  He said, "I'm not the boy I want to be.  I keep doing what I'm not supposed to do."  His dad said to him, "You know what?  I know exactly how you feel.  I do wrong things a lot too, and I wish I could be as good as I want to be.  But you know, that's why we both need Jesus so badly."  The speaker then reiterated, it is within the power of the security and love of the relationship with the Father that our own sin truly grieves us.  Just as the boy was only initially sorry for his immediate actions, it was within the love and security of the father that he saw his on propensities and acknowledged them for what they were because they were so clearly in view.  But this is what the Gospel is.  When we know how truly broken we are, and experience that in the care of Christ, there is a freedom that comes in confession. 

Research shows that the need to confess is in all of us, whether it comes out in conversation, in diaries, in talks with a priest, etc.  When we know we have done wrong, it feels pent up...like a lion pacing around just waiting for the cage to open.  But once it is out, there is a freedom that we often feel.  Why is this?  There's something in us that knows we are broken.  We know we are wrong.  It's how we deal with it, that stems directly from our worldview, that shows what we truly believe about the world.  As a follower of Christ, we know why guilt and shame plague us.  Our Story tells us why.  We know we have broken our relationship with God, it is the Image of God in us that cries out for rectification of the relationship.  In order for sin to be dealt with, it requires both an awareness of the sin and the confession of such in a Loving and Secure Relationship with our Father that is our starting point.  It's His authentic love for us that makes us feel how deeply our sin impacts Him, how much it breaks His heart.  I know that I need more awareness of the pain and brokenness that my own sins, presumptions, assumption, loose words or actions, etc. bring my God who loves me and gave everything for me, and then once I have the assurance of His love, it empowers me to show both truth and grace to those around me who are broken as well.

But I need to start with me.  It's not that others aren't broken and sinful too, but if I don't plumb the depths of my own soul, I will just continue to swing the log in my own eye around.  I don't want to be that person.  I want to walk more humbly with my God and with others.  I suppose brokenness is probably the best first stepping stone toward authentic humility.

How CrossFit is Changing my Life, Body & Career

Counseling and CrossFit...do those terms go together?  I'm learning that I believe they do.

I was reading in preparation for my very first intensive course (where I have to go to campus at the end of June) in Learning the Art of Helping.  Helping has always been a natural inclination for me and many of my close friends have called me "gifted."  But as I'm approaching my first time of having to learn how to help effectively as a counselor, this is the first class where people not only watch you but critique you.  Being a layperson helper has always been a role I've played throughout my life.  But this is where the rubber hits the road.  I'm not helping friends anymore, I'm learning a whole new set of skills...and I'm scared to death of doing things wrong.  I'm a chronic people-pleasing perfectionist (and NO, those terms to not mix well in life...yikes).  So not only will my imperfections be potentially glaring because of trying to acquire a new set of skills, but the people I want to like or approve of me will be critiquing me.  This is literally the stuff out of nightmares for me.

However, I was reading in my skills book today and it described acquiring a skill set as a counselor to the Karate Kid and acquiring new skills physically.  It says "You will learn basic helping moves, many of which will seem awkward and repetitive.  However, when they are properly learned and put in the appropriate sequence, they form more elaborate and elegant techniques, and they will take on a naturalness that you cannot feel at first" (Young, 2017, p. 24). 

LIGHT BULB MOMENT! 

I realized that is the story that CrossFit for me.  I started out looking at this whole CrossFit thing and being intimidated out of my mind.  I took the beginner's "On Ramp" class and was willing to give it a go, not having any idea what to expect, but with the owner of the gym, Frank, encouraging me to stick with it.  The moves for me were AWKWARD to say the least.  They were far from anything I'd ever done before and my body was not appreciating me.  I had a couple times I had to take a break, and I thought seriously about quitting.  I swore I wasn't getting it.  That perfectionist sirens were going off big time.

But the coaches were (and are) willing to work with me every step of the way.  They encourage me with a "GOOD, HANNAH!" from across the gym, but walk up to me one-on-one with a solid critique, but they've encouraged me so much and I trust their judgment, and took their word and worked through it.  They want me to get better which is WHY they say something.  Pretending like I'm doing something right does me nor them as coaches any good.  If I was going to get better, I needed to hear them say, "Get that booty out like you're at the club..." (Thanks, Matt!).  I needed to hear what I was doing wrong in order to get better.

And now, slowly, over the last (almost) 3 months, with a couple of breaks at the beginning in there, so like 2 months consistently...I've moved from the movements feeling awkward and my body screaming at me, to being able to go in and feel like I have a good foundation for what I'm supposed to do.  Not only that, Frank saw me this week, and I hadn't seen him in quite some time.  He turns to me immediately when he sees me and says, "You are looking healthier than when you came to on ramp."  I was shocked.  I didn't think I had changed that much, but he, being the owner and an elite athlete, noticed my progress.  Then he drew attention of the whole class to it (and yes, I've lost about 8-9 inches in just a couple of months...see below).  That was embaressing, but I blushed and life went on.  Not only did he notice how my body had changed, but he noticed that my movements had become smoother and more natural and commented on it as well.

But how did I get healthier and start on the road to looking more natural?  Through a blend of encouragement and well-structured criticism!  It may seem strange, but CrossFit has given me courage in life in general, but specifically as I head toward this class for my career goals.  I couldn't have made progress in CrossFit without someone watching and seeing the good, the bad and the really ugly and SAYING something.  It's exactly what my book is describing.  The movements of professional counseling will feel awkward and I may want to quit at some point, feeling like I don't get it.  But the truth is, it's the repetitive movements and the coaching that are going to put me onto a trajectory of success!  I get to celebrate going from doing a "clean" of 35 lbs in on ramp to now being able to do 90 lbs...or not being able to do handstands when I first started, to being able to do handstands by walking up a wall (an incredible feat for me!)...but I'll get to do those celebrations in terms of counseling and life as well!  I need to bear my CrossFit training in mind as a train to be a counselor, because it's taught me a lot about embarking on new adventures in my own life and taking ownership of the good, the bad and the ugly and working through it...even when tempted to quit.

CrossFit has taught me about the good, the bad and the ugly about myself as well.  It's brought insecurities to the surface that I didn't want to deal with.  I really have a hard time believing myself to be "good" at much of anything.  I remember years ago my parents gave me a wall art with the quote:

You are braver than you believe, stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.-Winnie the Pooh

I've never believed I was any of those things.  But throughout my life, God has chipped away at the lies, and I've really turned a new corner in CrossFit and with embarking on studies in counseling.  As Frank tells me, "Your mind gives out before your body does."  I stand in my own way.  My thought process tells me I can't.  I am my own worst enemy.  I always believed I was helpful, a good friend, loved Jesus, and some other attributes.  But for the first time, as a mom of 3 and a wife, I think I've finally started on a journey that, as much as I hate the insecurities it brings out, I am becoming brave enough to face them instead of running away.  Maybe I'm finally at a place of being able to see myself through the lies into the Truth of who He has made me to be.

I really believe there is a real chance of the Lord having brought me to both CrossFit and my Master's program for such a time as this.

All of my life will be a journey, there will be ups and downs inevitably.  But I believe He is doing a new work in me that I haven't experienced before, and it's been SO hard but SO good.  It's scary looking at myself, but it's with the revelations brought to me through school and working out that has changed my outlook on myself.  It's far from over, but I'm pumped for the journey.

Feeling confident on May 21

March 6 (First Day of "On Ramp")

May 11  (roughly 6 weeks of actual workouts)

Thanks to all of you who have loved me and supported me through the good, the bad and the ugly.  You all are the best.  Seriously.

Fear-driven Parenting

I said in my last post that I was going to continue blogging about a couple of conversations I'd had with my dad while my mom was in the hospital.  This is my second blog on something I've been reflecting on: fear-driven parenting.

Fear is a very real force.  It can be used for good or evil.  Fear is the thing that makes us cautious walking down a street alone at night.  Fear can make us cautious in many situations, which is wise.  But fear also has the power to make us emotional nut cases who are afraid to do or touch anything new or anything that we don't know what the out come will be.  Part of life is risk.  But fear keeps us from taking the very risks that can end up changing us for the better.

While I'm not much for the hype that comes with the death of celebrity, I saw a quote from Mary Tyler Moore, who passed this week, saying something about this topic.  She said, "Take chances.  Make mistakes.  That's how you grow.  Pain nourishes courage. You have to fail in order to practice being brave."

When it comes to my kids, like many of you, I look at the world and feel overwhelmed.  I have 3 girls, and girls are MEAN sometimes.  I look at the political, social and educational climate and I have way more questions than answers.  I remember being little and wanting to grow up, I believed grown ups had a lot of answers.  Now that I'm here myself, I'm acutely aware of how little I know.  How much you hope you're doing the best thing for your kids and family, but the truth is, we don't know what's going to happen or how things will turn out in the end.  Even decisions you are CONFIDENT in as a parent at the time, you may look back and regret.

I find myself often looking at my kids and wanting to protect them.  Protect them from mean people.  Protect them from negative messages about their bodies, their beliefs or their lives.  I want to keep them in my safe little bubble and just try to love them the best I can.  But that fear, if allowed to drive my parenting in the short- or long-term, will cause so much damage as well.  Not allowing them the freedom to fall, fail, or face adversity will cause them to be immature and cowardly perpetually.  I can't save them from themselves or from the world around them.  I have to allow them to practice bravery. 

Sometimes, as I've learned as an adult, I am my own worst enemy at times.  I think sometimes, "What if my girls had the thought about themselves that I just had about myself?" or "What if they make the same mistakes or even bigger mistakes than I made?"  All parents understand these types of ongoing questions.

But my parents let me be brave many times, even when it scared them to death.  I told my dad, I remembered him dropping me off for a trip to Morocco...when I was just 18...and it was only 2 years after 9/11.  I told him, he must have been filled with fear when I initially said that I wanted to attend this trip.  I'm amazed he let me go, to be honest, as a parent now.  America and the Middle East in general had very serious tension.  But mom and dad didn't tell me no, because I'd really felt a tug by the Lord that I was supposed to go.  I raised the funds, and dad dropped me off, not knowing what might happen to me.  That parental fear could have guided that decision.  But the truth is, that trip changed the trajectory of my life.  The reason is, though I don't recall a lot of the specifics of that trip, I came to the courageous decision to break up with my high school boyfriend of 2 1/2 years because of convictions received when I was on my own in the desert (literally).  Yes, I had a team with me, but for my life purposes, I was on my own.  I was able to listen.  The Lord got my heart.  It changed my life for the long haul.  If my parents hadn't have let me go, I'm not sure if I would've continued in the relationship or not, but I can tell you that their decision to set their fear to the side for His glory and my good was absolutely the right thing to do.

This is just one of several examples I have (maybe one of the most extreme, arguably), but this example that they set here in this circumstance makes me seriously step back and reflect on my own life and my own fears.  I have to be practicing throughout their life, that I have to let go and let them explore life.  I have to let them fall.  I have to coach them (often from my own experience) how to navigate broken hearts, shady friends, loving people too much to the point of blindness, etc. 

Here's the truth: If I had not had the struggles I did, if I didn't experience crushing defeats and bad choices, I wouldn't have learned how to get up after falling down.  I can't wish away trials from my kids, or let my fear dictate their young existence, because if I do...they stay immature forever.  I can't have 30 year olds who can only reason like 10 year olds because I kept them in a bubble and didn't let them do hard things.  As scared as I get sometimes, the truth is, if they don't face their own failings or the failings of others head-on, then they will become stagnant, immature and complacent/whiny adults.  There is absolutely a place for discipline (that's another topic), but I am addressing my own fear here. 

I'm afraid of what other parents think of me.  I'm afraid of watching my little girl cry as her friend tells her they're not friends, or someone has stolen the boy she likes.  I'm afraid of how men will look at my girls.  I'm afraid that, because they're so lovely, that they will tempted to only be as valuable as their bodies look.  I'm afraid of the kids who may say they're stupid, or worthless, or whatever terrible things kids say that are filled with untruth.  I'm afraid they may not be able to handle money well.  I'm afraid that they may struggle in school.  This is just the beginning of my fears list...

But the truth is, if I let that apprehension drive my parenting, I will fail these kids on a wholly different level.  I will go through the stages of parenting.  At some point I will move from the parent-on-the-pedestal, manners-teaching, disciplinarian stage, to the coach and confidante stage (yes, I'm sure there are a billion stages, but these are the two biggies, I think).  My role in their lives will change.

But they need me to be courageous enough to let THEM be brave.  To try, fall and get up again.  To move on from broken relationships, to study differently or harder for the next test in school, to fail a driver's written test 5 times (like I did, lol), to realize popular things don't always mean it's what's right, or whatever the trial.  I need to love them well.  To love beyond their actions and bad choices and to love the Imago Dei (image of God) in them.  For some reason, God has chosen these girls for me and me for them.  I will inevitably fail them.  But part of learning to get up from failure is leading by example.  I have to ask them for forgiveness, as 4 year olds or 40 year olds, for things that I've said or done that have hurt them.  I've been called to shepherd their hearts in my imperfect way, guided by the Spirit.  This means I leave room for the Spirit's guidance through tough times AND when I screw up, that I'm willing to admit it, because...no matter the age of my child...that Imago Dei remains.  A wounded spirit in my toddler or teenager, is worth the conversation and confession, if necessary.  I want to teach them relational reconciliation as well as overall resilience from tough things.  This isn't easy.  But it is necessary.

My final reflection is this:  Some of the wisest people I know, have been through the TOUGHEST situations...sometimes that are so explicit in nature, that it's almost unbearable to listen to in my empathetic heart.  But they had soft Spirits, that in the middle of doubt and pain, they were resilient.  They were TEACHABLE.  God worked through their stubbornness or pain or lamenting to bring them to a place of growth that wouldn't have been accomplished through only happy times and healthy relationships.  I have to trust that the trials that God has coming down the pike for me or my kids are the ones that will draw us back to him, give us a chance to lean into him, and learn more about who He is and who we are in Him.  It's not easy.  I don't have answers, but I believe the Lord is really working on me to look at this particular side of my parenting.  Honestly, I'm really grateful.

Leaning into Difficulty

While my mom was at Mayo before her surgery this past week, my dad and I got some quality one on one time together.  It was humbling for me because I chat most commonly with my mom, but there's always been a special place in my heart for my dad.  He's always been a man of quiet strength and whenever he speaks, I listen.  It's been that way since childhood.  When my dad was speaking, I remember that my world would stop.  He'd always have a way of striking a balance between getting me to sit down and talk calmly with him (even though I was emotional) and standing back and giving me a look that said more than words ever could.  My mom has always called me "your father's child" because of our similarities.  To be considered similar to my earthly father is a privilege to me, because my dad tries his best to emulate his Heavenly Father whenever possible.  He is wise and kind and it's an honor to be his daughter.  I've never doubted for a moment that I was loved and he's always believed in me, even in his quietness.

So when my dad takes time to tell me that he's proud of me for something, it does something to me that words really don't suffice to express.  So during our time together, my dad said something to me that I've been pondering for days.  He told me that he's proud of me because of how I've grown and matured through leaning INTO difficulty.

I've been thinking about what this means and what it means to me as a parent, specifically.  Sometimes in life we have trials that have been thrown at us and sometimes it's a mess of our own making.  I've had both, just like everyone else.  I'm not anything special, I don't have a secret formula, I'm not any more righteous or unscathed by life than anyone else.  But the difficulties I have faced, there's been a steadiness that underlies it all that I cannot full explain nor can I produce it within myself.  But I look at what my dad said, and I wonder, what are the things the Lord has taught me through all I've gone through, what habits have a built as a result of what I've seen and experienced?  How does this affect my parenting?

I've learned that hard things happen.  They can come from the inside or the outside.  As dad said in one of our conversations, "Nobody signs on the dotted line saying, I'd like to have THIS problem."  We often go through things we either didn't ask for or they are natural consequence of things we have chosen.  But how we face our difficulties and what results we allow trials to produce in us DOES matter.  There have been a lot of situations in my life that have caused me great pain that I couldn't control.  I couldn't control the situation or the people in it.  But I realized, through doing it wrong many times, that I am responsible for me, I don't get to shove blame.  I don't get to say, "If you weren't the way you are, I wouldn't be the way I am."  It's simply untrue.  My circumstances do not define who I am, neither do other people's treatment of me.  I cannot control these things, but I AM accountable for the way I am, the way I behave and the thoughts I have. 

But the truth is, I'm just a freaking sinful and selfish as everyone else.  My natural inclinations are toward myself, toward wanting to do things my way, to wanting to be right and believing that my self-interest is paramount.  Only Christ himself moving my gaze away from myself has changed me.  I'm still an immense work in progress.  But after my dad said that, I've been reflecting on what God has changed in me that has made me better able to cope through difficulty.

I believe the Lord has been gracious to me in more ways than I could count.  It's completely unmerited.  But he has moved my heart with each hard thing closer to himself.  One of the main things I can pinpoint that's changed my life is attention paid to thankfulness for his past faithfulness.  I remember sitting in the hospital with my daughter's head injury that I couldn't explain and Child Protective Services, detectives and social workers grilling me for what felt like an eternity.  I was so frantic after being told we couldn't be alone with our kids and being interrogated about every aspect of my marriage and family...that I got home and threw up.  Emotion is real.  I am always emotional in trial.  I was tempted to despair.  But I remember so vividly, the Lord slowing me down and prompting me to go through his past faithfulness throughout my life.  I just started listing things he had done and seen me through up unto that point.  The further I got down the list, the more overwhelmed with his love I became.  He reminded me that he sees me.  This did not surprise him.  He was my ANCHOR (the name of this blog).  All anchors have give, but even though I may feel that I am lost at sea, that anchor will pull me back.  He was going to hold me through it, but I was responsible for how I behaved in the midst of the pressure of 7 months of social services.  There is a balance.

When God slows me down, it's often through gratefulness.  How have I leaned into difficulty?  It's most often through grateful reflection on life and clinging to the faithfulness that has already been so clear throughout my life.  From there, the Lord changes my perspective as I've slowed down.  It's a process.  It takes time, it is not an overnight thing.  But over time, the fear of the situation is no longer the defining factor.  The emotion no longer takes the wheel.  I believe there is truly a reason the Lord spends so much time in the Old Testament telling Israel, "Don't you remember when I did this or that?...Talk about these with your children..."  Israel were handed (or handed themselves) some really tough situations.  What was so often God's response?  "Remember."  There is a powerful thing that happens when we remember the many things we have to be grateful for.  Not just a lip service to "Oh yeah, thanks" kind of way.  But in a deep and heartfelt thanks for the past faithfulness of God.  There's something in us that hits the breaks on the "right here, right now" focus.  When we pan out to see the tapestry of our lives, pointing out the moments of grace (and keep in mind it's only the times of grace we are cognizant of!), we start to see a view of our whole tapestry as a opposed to the snapshots in our mind.  It takes time to reflect.  Does it fix the immediate problem?  Often, no.  But what it does is it changes us, it changes our perspective, it reminds us that now is not the only time that has ever existed (although it feels that way at the moment). 

We, like Israel, often forget from whence we came.  Through our fallen nature, we are forgetful creatures.  But "leaning into the difficulty" often means looking back at God's faithfulness and, while not seeing how everything is going to work out in the long haul, choosing to put your trust back in him to work all things out for HIS glory.  That's what all of our stories are about.  Every single one of our tapestries play a part in the beautiful artwork that he is putting together to show himself to the world.  He is the main player, he is the one everything ultimately points to.  So by looking backward, it causes us to be able to move forward.  It doesn't fix the situation, it may not change your emotion, but it refocuses you on that there's a bigger story and a bigger reality than this moment.  He sees you in that moment, he loves you in that moment, he sees the pain and the heartache and he knows it well from his own experience.  But by gazing over the mountains and the valleys of life causes us to be more aware of who he is and the story he is telling.  Through that, he changes our perspective and changes how we pray and how we act.

It is often when we are in our darkest places that we have the chance to see his glory shine the brightest.

I don't want my kids to miss seeing his glory.  My propensity as a parent is to protect my kids.  I don't want them to be hurt or have to deal with hard things.  But the truth is, those hard things give them a chance to see God's faithfulness in the past and the present and, if they let it, it will allow them to entrust the trajectory of their lives to that faithfulness continuing all of their days.  The times where I've grown the most have not been my happiest days.  They've been the days where I had nothing left.  I was at the end of myself.  There was no where else to "dig down deep" into.  Then I turned my eyes toward Jesus, and saw how he has carried me, and even though I didn't "feel" trusting, I leaned back into my anchor, the one that held me (even when I thought I was floating out to sea).  While I do not wish difficulty on my children, I want them to know that difficulty is often the most fertile soil for growth...if they let it happen.  I want to point them to slowing down to be grateful for what grace they've experienced up unto this point.  I don't want them to be afraid of difficulty, or shy away from trial.  If I truly desire for my children to grow in wisdom and truth, the refining fires of trial are often the ways that God burns past the nasties that are in our gold and refine us.  I want them to face difficulty, feel the emotion but not let it rule them, and move toward a grateful heart.  They will make mistakes.  They will be handed things that they didn't ask for.  But how do we walk in grace in those things?  I believe it often starts with a reflection on his past goodness.  This is what he reiterated over and over again with Israel when they had current trials.  Sometimes he told them how he would solve the problem, but often he did not.  Instead, he was showing us a starting point, even when we don't know how to step forward or how to cope with what's happening.  I believe that when the Lord has turned my heart toward reflection, it's changed my perspective.  I want to teach my children the same thing.  He is good, even when our circumstances are not.  If we reflect on how good he has been, it will give us a firm foundation to trust in the days to come...even when we don't feel it.

Lessons on Rest from Chick-fil-A

The title to this may seem silly to some.  But there is a reason for my crazy!

See, this year I have the privilege of contributing one of the 40 daily Lenten devotionals to my church's yearly devotional in the weeks leading up to Easter.  I am excited to contribute, but this is also a deeply personal work for me.  This past year, in the Easter season of 2016, the Lenten devotional theme was on the book of Job and on trials and questions that come with the pain of life.  This devotional was the connecting point for my sister-in-law and I before she passed away this past summer.  As much as I'm delighted to contribute, I've also cried some too.  I have emails exchanged still in my email box from her to me.  It's a beautiful testimony to her growth and increasing peace as she neared the end of her life.  I hadn't known my sister-in-law well up unto that point, but that devotional connected us spiritually and emotionally, to the point where she hand wrote me a note calling me her "true sister."  I sobbed when I received the note itself.  This series of devotionals can change trajectories of lives both inside and outside of my church.  I want to honor the Lord, and I want to honor my sister-in-law's memory through my writing.  So this blog is actually a processing of what my topic is, and really it's filled with prayer that I can be used, as well as the other writers of the devotionals, to bring glory to God through the messages he wants to bring to those who will interact with this devotional leading up to Easter.

My topic is Lord of the Sabbath, specifically, the original verses of the ten commandments in Exodus that includes the mandate for Sabbath.  As I was initially opening the email, I read the topic and the first thing that came to mind was Chick-fil-A.

Yes, Chick-fil-A.

"Why?" you may ask?  Because Chick-fil-A takes the prospect of extended rest seriously.  They're a much-loved Chicken sandwich fast food company with silly commercials that have cows advocating for you to eat more chicken (instead of beef!) with egregious spelling errors that make you laugh.  They're just awesome.  The food is good and I swear they force their people to be friendly!  I mean, these people are pleasant even with irritating orders in drive thrus, I've never been smarted off to by an employee and they're super accommodating.  My husband and I are happy to support them as a whole.

Their owners also happen to be devout Christians.  They close every Sunday to advocate for all employees to be with families and to worship if they choose to do so.  They also close early the days before some national holidays and they close for every big national holiday.  They literally are closed 52 days a year, plus holidays.  In business math, that's INSANITY.  Do you know how much business you're missing?  How much money you're NOT making being open those days?  Imagine the money!!

But here's the thing, Chick-fil-A is THE MOST PROFITABLE FAST FOOD CHAIN IN AMERICA.  Has been for many years.  BY A LANDSLIDE.  (feel free to google this info!).  God is fully sufficient to meet Chick-fil-A's needs in 6 days instead of 7.  The owner's humble desire to honor the Lord, to give their employees a full day's break from demands of business, for them to slow down, go home and be able to have time to engage the people and needs around them...is repaid by God meeting what they need.

That's what Sabbath is.  Sabbath isn't a nap time, it's what Tim Keller calls a "soul rest."  When we work too much, when we say yes to too many things, when we overcommit our time and resources, this is an exhaustion of the soul that no amount of sleep can help.  We are perpetually exhausted.  No matter how many naps we take, how many snacks we eat, glasses of wine we drink, yoga we do, nothing alleviates the exhaustion we feel.

Work in and of itself is not evil.  Work was implemented in the garden of Eden when everything was perfect.  We were designed to work, and it's a beautiful thing.  We will not be "angels" up in heaven, on clouds, playing harps.  That's utter nonsense, and not biblically supported.  We will be living and working in community, as originally and perfectly designed by God in the beginning.  It will be amazing.  We will be engaged in truly meaningful work because it glorifies our God and the way he made us.

We live in a culture that is far and away obsessed with work.  We believe our work gives our lives meaning.  The more we stretch our wallets, our time, our resources, or our dedication to our assigned vocation, the more we mean.  How often have you had this conversation with a friend?..."How are you?"  The answer is one word, "Busy."  We validate our existence through our work.  We are slaves to our schedules and commitments.  We go on vacations to attempt to "get a break" only to realize it doesn't take us too long after getting back to be exhausted all over again and pining for the next vacation.

Sabbath is a rhythm of rest.  It's built in.  It's a discipline. It takes extended down time.  It's a two fold rest.  It's a time of liberation from our work.  It's a time where we are reminded that we are NOT our accomplishments.  We are not slaves to our work.  It is also a time of trust, where we realize that our ability to work, the sales we get, the money we make, the ego we get from a job well done, does not actually come from ourselves at all.  It comes from God himself.  We trust him to provide for our needs.  We may not get "excess," but we trust him to know and provide for our needs, and therefore the "letting go" of time and commitment to connect with him in worship and to be able to just "be" is actually us acknowledging the sovereignty of God over every single aspect of our lives.  Sabbath is meant to be a time of restoration of the things that are the foundation underneath the mere physicality of our bodies.  This is what Jesus himself focuses on when he speaks of Sabbath during his days of ministry.  Sabbath is a time of RESTORATION of the things that matter.  This requires time, discipline and regularity.

Tim Keller likens this to REM sleep of the soul.  Sure, you can take 8 one hour naps in a day and say that you've gotten your "8 hours of sleep in."  However, any sleep expert will tell you that in order to get the deep RESTORATIVE sleep that your body actually needs, you have to sleep for a certain period of time straight through.  The same is true of life.  We wonder why a half hour run makes us feel good for a little bit, but doesn't change our overall exhaustion level.   Why do our once or twice a year vacations just give life a little shot in the arm to make life feel a bit better, but doesn't change our outlook for long?  Why do our nights out give us a small reprieve, but we head back to our commitments and are overwhelmed again? 

Because we are "napping" instead of taking regular deep rest.  A rest that says, "We are not our work."  A rest that brings us back to center REGULARLY.  It doesn't have to be a full day, that's not the point.  But it's a built in regular time, whether weekly or biweekly, that we sit back and look at what we accomplish and say, "It is good, but it is not my meaning.  He has defined who I am.  He has paid the price to reconcile me to himself.  He has deemed me a loved child in his family.  He sees my need and will provide for it.  I haven't been lazy, I have done what I can.  Now, I will sit and enjoy Him and all he has given me and gaze on his glory...knowing that it is enough for all of life."

We need to find a discipline of rest in our lives.  It is built into us, if we don't take a deep breath and rest our souls in Him regularly, we will keep going in our meaningless striving and keep wondering why we are so tired.  We were designed for a balance of work and full, deep rest. 

I don't know what this looks like for me.  I don't know what it looks like for you.  I know I'm headed into a busy time in life.  I have 3 kids under 3.  I have a part time job.  I have grad school starting in a couple of weeks.  I look at my life and I say, HOW DO I BUILD REST IN?!?!  God, don't You know rest will not be possible for me?  I'll have assignments, I will have work, I will have kids grabbing at me, a husband who needs me.  Don't you see my chaos?...And he whispers back, "Yes. That's why you NEED to come to me and find rest in me.  My burden is easy and my yoke is light.  Come to me, my child.  You need me."  I don't have any answers. 

But with school starting in a couple of weeks, I believe he has stopped me here on this subject to get me to reflect before I add to my chaos.  I need to figure out what building in rest means for me.  I have no answers.  But as I prepare to write this devotional, I kinda wanted to write my reflections.  I think in some ways, I'm scared of rest.  I'm scared of reflection.  I'd sooner grab for my phone and busy my mind rather than have 15 min of allowing an "inactive" time.  Maybe I do believe that the busier I am, or at least the busier I feel, the more my life means.  Maybe down time is a scary thing because of what it will reveal about me, or what it reveals about God, or life in general?  I don't know why I have such a hard time being quiet.  But I can tell you, I am a slave to my own busyness, and I some how get off on it.  I like being busy.  Slowing down feels like worthless time.  But what if slowing down is actually some of the most significant time there is?  What if I'm missing some of the beauty and depth of life offered in Him because I don't slow down?  What if I do build in time to just "be," to allow the feelings and worship to come in unstructured ways?  Will it change me, would it change my life for the better?

But I look at Chick-fil-A's example, and I think, "What do they understand about the Sabbath that the Lord honors?  What am I missing?"  I know I need to allow the liberation, the trust, and the restoration that an intentional, regular Sabbath brings to truly take hold.

Maybe if we all took a lesson from Chick-fil-A as a culture, our whole culture may be better for it?

I may not be able to change a whole culture, but I know I can start with me.  So, I will go forward in these next couple of weeks asking Him what he wants me to do in my days, weeks and years to come.  I believe He has brought me to this topic right now for a reason.  I need to have a listening ear to see what changes he wants to make in me.  And maybe those changes will be the insights I need to write this brief devotional by Tuesday.  We shall see.

Any prayers are appreciated.