“…For if we could control our tongues, we would be perfect and could also control ourselves in every other way…a small rudder makes a huge ship turn wherever the pilot chooses to go, even though the winds are strong.”

–James 3:2, 4

 

The lesson of James 3: if I were to choose one thing to adjust, attention to my words would make the biggest difference. I cannot control the winds, but I can improve how I manage the rudder.

The Amplified version says it this way:

“…Look at the ships, even though they are so large and are driven by strong winds, they are still directed by a very small rudder wherever the impulse of the helmsman determines.”

Perhaps that is why James describes it as such a feat. It’s not just the technique of adjusting the rudder, but the impulse of the helmsman that is so difficult to master. It is not only choosing the right words that is so challenging, but gaining mastery over the impulses of the heart.

“…For out of the abundance of the heart, the mouth speaks.”

–Matthew 12:34

The tongue is the vessel of the heart’s impulses, and so it comes back to this: I must diligently tend to my heart (Proverbs 4:23). Its desires and leanings steer the whole ship. It is well worth my time to take stock of them.

This morning, my heart’s impulses are selfish. I feel starved for time with friends, hungry for emotional connection, jealous of people who can get into a comfortable position (oh pregnancy…), frustrated with how little it takes to wear me out, eager for the independence of a vehicle, and unsettled without a home of my own. In short, I feel dissatisfied.

My heart says, “Go after these things! You cannot be happy until you have them!” And no matter what the current situation is, that seems to be its theme song.

I have people pouring into me, caring for me, giving me a place to stay, lending me their vehicles, rearranging their schedules for me. I have a baby on the way that we prayed and prayed and prayed for. I have so much and yet I want more. The heart’s natural impulses are rarely thankful.

But God says to give my body as a living sacrifice, not demand sacrifices from others. His words challenge me not to get my circumstances to transform until I have all I want, but to let Him transform me, so that all I want is Him, even if my circumstances do not change at all.

“I plead with you to give your bodies to God because of all He has done for you. Let them be a living and holy sacrifice…Don’t copy the behavior and customs of the world, but Let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think…”

–Romans 12:1-2

The winds may blow strong, but the One who could alter the wind with a whisper still places more emphasis on changing the helmsman.

Lord-

Teach me to let you transform me.

Change my heart to be thankful rather than dissatisfied, willing to lay down comfort and preference to see that the needs of others are met, eager to offer my words even if I have little else to offer – words from a heart that has its eyes on you and its impulses in check.

And may I learn that I don’t change in any lasting way because of my determination to improve, but because of your power, your work, and the growth that you give in my life. I do not transform myself. I let you transform me.

So change me, Lord. I want you to teach me good rudder control. But beyond that, I want you to transform the impulses of the helmsman. My words, my tone, my facial expressions: may they not be a polite mask over my impatient, grasping turmoil, but the gentle and easy outflow of a heart that sees its Savior and knows it has all it needs.

Set this restless heart on you so that it  words may be helpful and good, no matter what the winds are like.

“And if God cares so wonderfully for wildflowers that are here today and thrown into the fire tomorrow, He will certainly care for you…”

–Matthew 6:30

 

I had to get a PICC line placed yesterday.

I’m pretty sure I regress to something like 5 years old when I have to go through a procedure. I should probably be one of the most calm and collected patients since I perform them on other people, but no. I am not. I am not calm. I am not collected.

The doctor was trying to explain all the clinical advantages of the PICC line and the research and I’m just holding in tears and attempting to remain a respectable adult and somehow still communicate “yes I understand, but WILL IT HURT??”

I broke down and made my mom drop what she was doing and come to the hospital so I wasn’t alone. I almost lost it when my arm went numb. I just wanted to be unconscious when they said I would feel some “warmth” running down my arm and I realized that it was blood.

The PICC is in. We all survived. But I am traumatized.

I am so thankful God designed bodies and minds that heal.

12 weeks to go in this pregnancy, and I can’t wait to hold this little munchkin, but I’m also staring down the hurdle of labor and delivery. That is the truly traumatic part of pregnancy and I just can’t even process it because I haven’t even made it to the hurdle yet. I’m not even running. I’m over here crawling my way forward, sobbing and helpless. I am not strong or brave or tough enough for this.

Pregnant. Emotional. In transition.

2800 miles from a husband who’s still a full week away from starting the drive.

New doctors, new care plan, new devices. So many unknowns. And I am raw from the changes.

But today, I will look again to a Savior who treads above the tumult.

He does not waste my difficulty.

He heals my damage.

He freely gives new grace and new strength when mine is exhausted.

And I do not face any of this alone. 

I’m finding that much of what sets me off-balance are fresh assaults of the same, old thoughts:

Why can’t I just have a normal pregnancy like so many other people?

Why can’t something just go like I expected it to?

Why do I break down so easily?

What if I don’t have what I need?

But it is high time to think on truth and order my thoughts in light of Him.

My story does not look like everyone else’s, but that is okay. I can be satisfied with what I have because I have Him. (Hebrews 13:5-6)

I don’t need to be able to anticipate everything to be okay. He knows the course and He is leading. I don’t change course easily, but I am learning how to take those changes in stride, and it is okay to be a beginner and to struggle in the learning process.

I don’t need to be tough or impressive, I can just humble myself and be me. God made me sensitive, things affect me easily, and that is okay. He promises His perfect strength is present with and sufficient for all my weaknesses.

“My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me.
–2 Corinthians 12:9

I will always have what I need. I will not always know what that looks like, but I can breathe and assume that I will be okay because this is not a random dealing out of events and circumstances. As up in the air as everything seems right now, these things are set in order by a God who loves me and has promised to care for me. What I don’t get in specifics, I get in certainty. He will certainly care for me. 

So I can lay the questions to rest, dry my face, and breathe in this reassurance once again:

Those who live in the shelter of the Most High will find rest in the shadow of the Almighty…His faithful promises are your armor and protection. Do not be afraid of the terrors of the night…Do not dread the disease that stalks in the darkness nor the disaster that strikes at midday…

The Lord says:

I will rescue those who love me. I will protect those who trust in my name. When they call on me, I will answer. I will be with them in trouble…”

–Psalm 91, excerpts

 

 

P.S. That husband of mine figured out how to get flowers to me from 2800 miles away.

 

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. So do not be attracted by strange, new ideas. Your strength comes from God’s grace…may He equip you with all you need for doing His will. May He produce in you, through the power of Jesus Christ

every good thing

that is pleasing to Him.”

–Hebrews 13:8-9, 21

 

I made it to Florida safe and sound and was swept into hugs and greetings and excited wedding preparations. This morning, laying awake and listening to the rain at 4:30 am (thank you baby kicks), I noticed I felt nervous and wondered why.

As I journaled out my thoughts, here’s what I came to:

I am emotionally full, loving all the activity and surrounded by the relationships I have missed so sorely. But at the same time, I feel the tension of every task I want to be a part of and every conversation I want to savor pulling on my limited physical reserves. In short…I’m still fighting nausea and weakness, I run out of steam at the end of the day, and I’m worried that what I have to give is not enough.

My sister and her kids are driving an hour and a half just to spend the afternoon with me today, and I’m afraid I’m not exciting enough to make the drive worthwhile! I fear being a disappointment. 

I asked the Lord to help me settle my heart and I came across these verses in Hebrews.

I loved the reminder to stop looking for new ideas or strategies or rules.. Jesus Christ hasn’t changed and so neither has my answer to the challenges and demands before me. Always, always, the answer is Christ. There is no new way to approach this beast called life.

I need Jesus. He is the best I have to offer. And He is enough.

My strength comes from Him. He offers the grace I need so badly. He produces, through His power, good things that please Him in my life. He does not look to me to come up with kindness, humility, selflessness, trust…He produces them in me. He IS all those things in me. The qualities and characteristics of a beautiful, holy life are not out of reach for me, they are mine because of Him.

I was reminded this week of the people of Israel, backed into a corner with an approaching Egyptian army on one side, a vast sea on the other, and no way out. Moses’ answer to their panic was this:

“Don’t be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again. The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.”

–Exodus 14:13-14

No matter what has me panicked, the roles haven’t changed.

His job: Rescue. Fight for me. Prove His faithfulness. Be impressive.

My job: Stand still. Wait. Watch Him work. Keep calm. 

Always, the Lord is drawing us into difficult and tense situations, not so that we will perform, but so we can see HIM work. The tension is a test to prove His strength, not mine.

If I was the main act, there would be good cause for worry.  But He does the equipping and the producing and I am not the performer here,  I am just the stage on which His incredible life shows itself. 

I do not have to worry that I will disappoint. I can just ask Him to be who He is in my life, and I know I’m offering the very best.

 

Lord-

Thank you for working with my life, my heart. Help me to stop my endless strategizing and people-pleasing and worrying and just behold you. You are more than enough for all this day holds.

 

 

“A good person produces good things from the treasury of a good heart, and an evil person produces evil things from the treasury of an evil heart. What you say flows from what is in your heart.”

–Luke 6:45

Today, I’m sharing a tool I use in my house to keep up with the cleaning and organization. How is this relevant to my writing? Because I think the way I go about my small, daily tasks is an outflow of my heart just as much as my words are.

Keeping up with my house is an area where I struggle with a lot of condemnation. I don’t tend to see the successes; I see the failures, the not-enoughs, the comparison with others, the perfect Pinterest boards. Anyone else in the same boat?

A few months ago, I read through Emily Ley’s awesome book, Grace Not Perfection.

One of my biggest take-aways was her challenge to be careful of how I am speaking to my own heart. If harsh criticism isn’t effective at motivating other people, it’s not effective when I turn it on myself, and it endangers my interactions with others, even when they’re not the target.

Ultimately, I can want to be a kind and patient and gentle person, but my treatment of other people flows out of the thoughts of my heart. If those thoughts are constantly irritable, critical and harsh, that tends to be what spills out on others. I can’t be one person toward myself and another toward everyone else. Who I am on the inside will show up on the outside, no matter what my goals are. 

Emily Ley quoted Galatians 5:13-14:

You, my brothers and sisters, were called to be free. But do not use that freedom to indulge the flesh; rather, serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’

She went on to say, “If I loved and nurtured my neighbor (or my children) the same way I care for myself sometimes, I wouldn’t be doing any of them a whole lot of good.”

The statement floored me. I am the exact same.

As I mulled it over, the concept formed into a question:

If I spoke to another person the way I’m speaking to myself right now, would it be loving?

This question is something God has been using to help me sort through how I speak to myself. It helps me discern which thoughts are from Him and which aren’t.

I’ve started to see that, a lot of the time, I am exaggerated, cruel and thoughtless in the way I describe myself, talk to myself, and even in the way I try to spur myself forward. I tend to think that I need to be harsh, that I need to beat myself up, that I need to be afraid of some terrible result, in order to be motivated; but that thinking is not honoring to Him.

Our hearts are designed to receive gentleness and respond to encouragement. Confidence and the willingness to try are nurtured, not beat into people. And I am no different.

If, instead, I am kind, gracious, and loving toward myself when facing a struggle or a failure, I perform better than when I am hard on myself, plus I have that same encouragement to offer toward others when they need it. Anger and disappointment with myself leave me drained, but I am finding that choosing kindness toward my own heart is one of the most loving things I can do for other people, because it produces the emotional margin I need to pour into them.

So maybe the first step in “serving them with humility” is to tend to the unkindness on the inside. It is pride that fuels my relentless demands and exaggerated reactions. It is pride that screams “I expected so much more of you!!!” But Christ calls me to humility, and humility accepts grace.

The way God deals with me and the way He asks me to deal with others is not harsh or critical. So if that’s how I’m speaking to myself, it’s not because I’m following His lead. Little by little I’m starting to see that God does not ask me to treat anyone like that, not even myself.

Let your speech always be with grace, seasoned with salt, that you may know how you ought to answer each one.

–Colossians 4:6

Don’t use foul and abusive language. Let everything you say be good and helpful, so that your words will be an encouragement to those who hear them.

–Ephesians 4:29

A servant of the Lord must not quarrel but must be kind to everyone, be able to teach, and be patient with difficult people. Gently instruct those who oppose the truth…

–2 Timothy 2:24-25

For if our heart condemns us, God is greater than our hearts, and knows all things.

–1 John 3:20

So now there is no condemnation for those who belong to Christ Jesus.

–Romans 8:1

For from His fullness, we have all received grace upon grace.

–John 1:16

…bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ…

–2 Corinthians 10:5

 

After pondering these verses, I started asking myself:

When you speak to yourself, are you unkind? Are you abusive? Is it helpful?

I realized that I need to consider more than just fear tactics to get myself to do the right things.

I thought about when others have come graciously alongside and encouraged me and I realized, I HAVE FULL PERMISSION to treat my heart the same way. But I DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION to leave grace out of the conversation, even in my own thoughts. 

So I looked for a baby step I could take to make this practical.

I reflected on my normal patterns of thinking and I realized I am harshest with myself when it came to my marriage and my house. These arenas, closest and most familiar to me, are the areas where I have the highest expectations for myself and where I deal out the most hurtful words.

I tried to think of a simple outward adjustment I could make that would remind me to be inwardly kind, and I landed on my chore list.

I found that, in my normal routine, I jot down a bajillion errands, chores and tasks I need to get to on a piece of paper, I get through as many as I can, and at the end of the day, all I can focus on is the unfinished list. Especially because I typically work on a rotating schedule with 24-hour shifts, Wednesday chores would get pushed to Thursday and Thursday would get overwhelming.

I’d work at my list like crazy, living for the sweet moment I could cross off the final to-do. But for one reason or another (usually my hyper-optimistic idea of what I can possibly get done in one day), there were always items left on the list. And in those items, I read condemnation.

It didn’t matter if I had been up all night flying patients, or if I’d gotten sick, or I’d completed a huge project that took a larger chunk of time, I would berate myself for what I hadn’t managed to get done, and I would walk away discouraged. 

But when I applied the challenge to be encouraging and kind in my thoughts to this area, when I decided to talk to myself the way I would to a human being with feelings who may need some encouragement, I realized something I hadn’t been taking stock of:

The housework is never done, and it’s not because I’m failing.

It’s a cycle of tasks and chores that require constant upkeep because they endure constant use. Nothing’s inherently wrong because it’s time to change the sheets again. It just means time has passed since the last time.

I decided, at least in the area of housework, to make it easier on myself to have right thought patterns.  If I wanted to encourage someone I loved to be faithful with housework without making them feel bad about what they hadn’t gotten to, I decided I would just structure each job as an accomplishment in and of itself rather than making a totally finished list the goal.

Hence, I nixed the list and drew a circle. (Ok fine, a square, because those are easier to cut out of paper, but you get the idea).

I put a happy quote from Emily Ley’s book in the middle, set up the chores as a cycle, and added a magnet to the fridge so that I could move it around the circle-square whenever I had the time and energy to tackle one of the jobs. It was a way to stay semi-regular with the cleaning and keep it on a rotation without provoking criticism if I had a day where I didn’t get to the chores.

At least for me, it made a huge difference. That little change was life-giving, tangible grace. It was just one small adjustment, but it was a daily way I could replace a distraction that spoke of my failure with a reminder His grace, His goodness, His strength.

It is one way I can agree with Him and say

“Today, there is no condemnation.” 

Sometimes, something as simple as changing the chore chart can be spiritual, because it’s a step where I am taking God at His word. And I think doing that, little by little, in even the most daily things, is how I start to trust Him with the rest of life.

 

 

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Feel free to print, copy, modify, etc!

I would love to hear about the baby steps that have been helpful for you!

 

 

“For the word of God is alive and powerful…it exposes our innermost thoughts and desires. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God. Everything is naked and exposed before His eyes, and He is the one to whom we are accountable.”

-Hebrews 4:12-13

 

I was reflecting this week on the difference between reading the Bible to become an expert on what it says, and giving my heart motives over to its scrutiny in real time. There is an important contrast between seeking mastery and seeking to hear from the Master.

It’s easy to decide in the time crunch of the many things on my agenda that since I grew up hearing what the Bible says, I can get by on what I already know. But I’m learning that I need to hear from God on this day, too, rather than living on left-over lessons. I can assume that I’ve woken up with my priorities in order and that my actions are being driven by the right reasons, but that’s rarely the case. Honestly, I am in dangerous territory when I cease to be wary of my own heart, when I feel I do not need the help of God’s word to understand myself and the world afresh.

The word of God exposes my innermost thoughts and desires for what they really are. It lays things plain and bare and shows me when I am using the word “responsibility” to cover up that I’m really just worrying and when I have substituted “busy” for “faithful.” I can memorize the Word of God and still live a life that is sorely lacking in love. What happens when I rely on just my memory instead of making time for fresh truth? I remember what suits me at the time. I do what looks right on the outside, but I am driven by selfish ambition.

“If I had the gift of prophecy, and if I understood all of God’s secret plans and possessed all knowledge, and if I had such faith that I could move mountains, but didn’t love others, I would be nothing.”

–1 Corinthians 13:2

At least in my life, this is pattern: when I decide I understand the Bible well enough for now and leave behind a regular quiet time, pride is at work. I give the right answers. I tolerate others, but I don’t love them. I love me and I go after whatever I want, instead of giving myself away. I forget my calling, I forget to love, I forget my God, and that forgetfulness shows up in my irritable, impatient reactions. I can hide how I feel, but it sucks the joy from my day.

Just like regular financial giving is a way of taking my trust off of my money and putting it back on God as my provider; regular quiet time is a way of taking my trust off of my own understanding, and putting it back on His guidance. It is a way of humbling myself by asking Him to show me what it is I DON’T know and DON’T see, even in my own heart. (Psalm 139:23-24)

I cannot safely decide I know exactly what God thinks or how he would have me handle a situation without asking Him again. His ways are “past finding out” and his judgments are “unsearchable.” (Romans 11:33)  That is why I am told to:

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding, in all of your ways acknowledge Him and He shall direct your paths.”

–Proverbs 3:5-6

I may be familiar with scriptural principles, but that is not the same as a daily, living relationship where I am guided step by step.

The challenge?  I avoid reading the Bible sometimes, even when I know I need it. Here’s my guess as to why: regular time reading God’s Word usually shows me something I’m doing wrong. For once, I would just like to hear that I’m getting something right! So I look for likes on facebook and kudos at work and I set aside my Bible for “later,” because I may need it, but I need to feel accepted and approved of more.

But in Hebrews, the statement that the Word of God reveals the thoughts and intents of the heart and that all is laid bare before Him is followed by the reassurance that He is gracious and understanding toward weakness (verses 15-16). He tells me He’ll point out my issues, but THEN He tells me to come to Him boldly for help and He will give it!  I am not being called to the principal’s office, I am being pulled into a huddle with the coach. And His words hold warm approval even as they spur me forward to trust Him for new things.

I do not need to fear or avoid the sharp words of God, I need to fear what I become when I harden toward what they say, when I stop listening, when I think I understand things well enough on my own, and when I run out into the world desperate for the precious acceptance that He has already given me in Christ.

I have a God who sees all things, to Him only I am accountable. I do not have to measure up to the expectations of anyone else.

I do not have to have it put together, nice and neat and perfect. I am not accountable to the pressures that demand I shove down what’s on the inside and make everything look good. I do not need the facebook reassurance, because I am accountable to the God who dares me to bare what is inside to Him and promises that He will be kind to me in my vulnerability. 

This is what that God asks of me in Hebrews chapter 4:

1. Hear my voice.
2. Let my words inform you on the inner workings of your own heart.
3. See me as the kind High Priest I am toward you, rather than turning away from my correction.

He does not reveal my sin to crush me, but to show me new areas where He can give me hope and grace. He does not make me aware of my weaknesses to discourage me, but to help me see the new territory where His strength will make all the difference.

 

Lord-

Teach my heart to seek your words, to listen to them and soften toward what they say, even when it’s hard to hear. You are understanding toward even my biggest weaknesses, and you instruct the messiest of hearts to come boldly, for you have made them clean. 

 

 

 

“And so, dear brothers and sisters…think carefully about this Jesus…

Every house has a builder, but the one who built everything is God…and we are God’s house, if we keep our courage and remain confident in our hope in Christ…

Be careful then, dear brothers and sisters. Make sure that your own hearts are not evil and unbelieving, turning you away from the living God. You must warn each other every day…so that none of you will be deceived by sin and hardened against God…

Who was it that rebelled against God, even though they heard his voice?…we see that because of their unbelief they were not able to enter his rest.”

–Hebrews 3, excerpts

 

Think carefully.

Be careful.

Make sure.

Warn each other.

Why?

Because this is what is at stake: I may not experience God’s rest if I am so caught up in doubting Him that I refuse to do what He tells me.

If I follow my heart when it begins to question God, I forfeit my chance of rest.

I’ve seen it in my own life. Often, when I am most restless and full of angst, there is a train of thought I can follow back to some disappointment or unmet expectation where my heart decided God was wrong. I don’t even always realize I decided that. Often I just reacted to the situation, I was hurt, I was frustrated, and I stopped being careful with the thoughts of my heart. I let my hope and confidence fall and started to wonder if God cared, why would He let this happen? I stopped being careful to be content and I landed in the painful restlessness of a soul that is so caught up in its circumstances it has lost sight of its Savior.

How do I stop it from happening? How do I face the hard stuff of life and feel it in all its unfairness and still resist the tendency to turn away from God and harden against Him?

“…think carefully about this Jesus.” (verse 1)

“…keep our courage and remains confident in our hope in Christ.” (verse 6)

“Above all else, guard your heart,
    for everything you do flows from it.” (Proverbs 4:23)

I have got to realize when I have lost my confidence. I must learn to discern when I have placed it in something other than Him: my hard work, my bank account, my job, my friends, my personality, whatever shape it takes. Confidence that has fallen on something other than Christ is lost confidence, and it will sink me.

God is the builder who is crafting good things in me, but He does not build where my heart resists him. He has said He will shape me until I look like Christ, but He will wait for a heart that once again places its confidence in Him.

To build before that point would result in a shaky foundation

But if I trust in His word, He will build rest in my life.

If I think carefully about this Jesus, my heart will find the encouragement it needs.

 

Lord-

Teach me to be cautious of my own heart. How quickly it disagrees with you and turns away in a huff, not realizing what it costs to take my eyes off of you.

I need you, how I need you. Help me see when my gaze has drifted and make it my daily task to think carefully about this Jesus.

He was a stumbling block for many, but great loss awaited those who let that stumbling be the barrier that kept them away.

 

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.
    Oh, the joys of those who take refuge in him!”

–Psalm 34:8

 

“God’s promise of entering his rest still stands, so we ought to tremble with fear that some of you might fail to experience it. “

–Hebrews 4:1

“Lord, I have heard of your fame; I stand in awe of your deeds, Lord. Repeat them in our day, in our time make them known…”

– Habakkuk 3:2

“What do you do when you’re in the valley? You remember what God has done. And you dare to believe that what He’s done before, He will do again.”

-Craig Groeschel, Hope in the Dark

 

For the past 3 or 4 months, I’ve thought about filling out a sticker with “Hello, my name is Nausea” and just wearing that, because it felt like my personality had been hijacked by the Hyperemesis – that I was 90% nausea and only 10% Beka.

I think when you’re sick for an extended period of time, you tend to come out the other side of it a little altered, and while you’re in the midst of all the shifting it’s easy to feel like there’s no familiar territory, not even in your own heart. To me…that looked like a lot of blank pages in a journal I normally filled to the margins; crisp, white paper rather than markings that made sense of my world.

But finally, finally, I’m starting to feel like myself again! I’m still pretty dependent on meds and rest, but the nausea has moved to the background. I have preferences and goals and ideas climbing back up to the surface, and I now recognize the person I see in the mirror.

I also see changes: changes in my thinking, changes in me. New hues where old ones have faded or overlapped, new certainties, new hesitations; but I think they are, all of them, landmarks. Way-points that tell of a good God who never wastes difficulty.

A friend and I were talking about the recovery process and looking back on sick seasons. She spoke of a similar concept and called them “stakes in the ground:” markers she could look back on that reminded her of God’s faithfulness.

I loved the idea and I think it’s an important part of any recovery, to acknowledge what has been hard, but also to see the stakes in the ground as you survey the terrain.

I think we move forward from hard things always carrying heavy memories, but stakes in the ground define them, keep them balanced, make them worth carrying and maybe even lighten the load. Perhaps they mark out who we are even more than our experiences do, because they tie us to an unchanging God rather than to all that fluctuates.

Stakes in the ground hold steady when stressors and heavy seasons come again and threaten to take our fragile hearts under.

So I will learn to put down stakes. I think I can’t afford to move forward without them.

Lord-

I stand in awe of your work in my life.

Thank you for inviting me to come to you with my daily, practical needs. Thank you for teaching me that I can be confident you will give your guidance and help here and now, just as you always have to those who look to you.

Even as I breathe relief, I feel so out of my depth toward the decisions that lie ahead. I don’t know what’s best. I don’t know what to do. But I will put down stakes and gaze back at your faithfulness, then I will look ahead and watch for you with expectation.

For you give anchoring hope as I look to you.

“God also bound himself with an oath, so that those who received the promise could be perfectly sure that he would never change his mind…Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us. This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls…”

–Hebrews 6:17-19

“Whom have I in heaven but you? I desire you more than anything on earth. My health may fail, and my spirit grow weak, but God remains the strength of my heart; He is mine forever…I have made the Sovereign Lord my shelter…”

–Psalm 73:25-26, 28

 

I’m 18 weeks along today.

80% of Hyperemesis Gravidarum cases completely resolve by 20 weeks. No nausea. No vomiting. A normal pregnancy from here on out. In the next 2 weeks, things may drastically improve for me. I hope for that.

But my health may fail.

I have to start acknowledging that at 18 weeks, I’m not better yet, and so I may be the 20%. The whole pregnancy may be this way. If I’m honest, that persistent thought terrifies me.

But my heart has to learn to hold that possibility without fear.

I have to learn how to let Him be my heart’s strength, how to let Him be what I desire most. Then I will be able to ask for a lesser desire and not stake ALL MY DESIRE on what I ask.

I am not guaranteed what I ask for, but I am guaranteed Him. And He is enough.

I can learn to hope and expect help from Him, to know it is not hard at all for Him to turn things around for me, and to still to cry out:

Even if you don’t

My hope is you alone.

-MercyMe

I have come a long way with how I handle worry. I am growing in my ability to face financial uncertainty and settle in my heart that my needs will be met, even if I don’t know how at the time.

I’m learning that I can allow torment as I anticipate what’s ahead, or I can rest in what I know of God’s character. I can wonder and worry and grow completely distracted with all the what if’s. Or I can trust that He will give me what I need, generously, abundantly, lavishly, just like He gives Himself.

But I have yet to learn how to say “no” to worry over sickness, over pain, and over loss.

I have yet to learn that it is the same choice.

I cannot know what He will allow, but I can know He will help me face it, and so I can spend today acting as if I will be okay, because I will be.

I will see, when I get there, that it was either better or worse than I expected, but that:

1. He was faithful.
2. I had what I needed.

My expectations may not be met, but my needs will be.

So I can let worry steal my joy as I wait to see how the details pan out, or I can decide that I know enough of the big picture, and it’s not worth my time to obsess over the details I can’t control and can’t figure out ahead of time anyway.

I can give my attention to fear, or I can give it to Him.  But I have His blessing to choose not to worry about it. I have His go-ahead to set it aside and go about my day as if I will be okay, because I will be. In fact, I honor Him when my actions assume that I’ll have what I need; as they add up, they form a life that takes God at His word, that makes practical decisions and takes real risks based on confidence in His promises.

 

Lord-

I can spend my day planning and constructing shelters from an unknown, unseen storm, or I can take shelter in you.

I can be overwhelmed by all the threats, all the possibilities, all the noise in the world, or I can fall silent and be overwhelmed by you.

My health may fail, but I have you. And so this morning, while the wind and the passing traffic and the problems and the construction and the nausea and the frightened thoughts are not silent,

I will yet fall silent before you and know this:

You rule from On High and my story is in your hand, held precious. I don’t know all the details, but I do know this:

1. You will be faithful.
2. I will have what I need.

So help my heart to be brave and unconcerned, to fall silent and learn of fearless hope, to face the possibility that my health may fail, that things may be worse than I expect, and to say “no” to worry anyway.

“But the Lord is in His holy temple. Let all the earth be silent before Him.”

–Habakkuk 2:20

“So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today.”

–Matthew 6:34

 

 

“I lift up my eyes to the hills.
    From where does my help come?
 My help comes from the Lord,
    who made heaven and earth.”

–Psalm 121:1-2

I will never be done taking in how good the Lord is.

He heard us and he answered. He gave us a new little life, and even through hyperemesis, chest pain, shortness of breath, tachycardia, weakness, dizziness, hypotension, pallor, cramping, 1 ambulance ride, 3 hospital visits, 7 rounds of IV fluids, 7 nausea medications, 10 weeks of daily losing food and fluid and weight and sometimes hope, he has kept that little life safe. 

He didn’t have to. Even as I closed my eyes Saturday and laid my exhausted, dizzy head back on the hospital bed pleading with Him to help, to protect, I knew this:

He is good no matter what happens here.

I can face loss and heartache, sickness and pain, and He is good. He is all we need. He walks with us. He doesn’t waste what has been hard.

From the beginning it has been a chore to untangle my heart from its desperate bid for control, from its pattern of constant worry over everything. From the beginning, it has been a challenge to hold this little life before the Almighty and acknowledge that it is too precious for me to handle; that the only thing I can do is put it in God’s capable hands because He is able to keep what I commit to Him.

…For I know the one in whom I trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard what I have entrusted to him…

–2 Timothy 1:12

From the beginning I have known that great love comes with risk of great loss. I must let this baby be His, stewarded to me for a time. If I see it as only mine, my heart will strangle and suffocate with stifling fear over how to keep it safe.

And I want more for my son than safe.

We are naming him after a warrior for a reason. I want him to plunge into life, fierce and fearless, because he knows the Living God and that none can stand against Him. I want him to face risk and take leaps and find Jehovah on the other side, faithful.

If the kid is anything like me, he’s going to have some scars. May they paint a picture of a life lived in hard pursuit of his Savior because then, they will be worth it.

When I first found out I was pregnant, I read in a pregnancy book, “if you’re worried about miscarriage, welcome to the rest of your life.”

It went on to say that when you finally reach the safe window for miscarriage, you’ll worry about birth defects, and then labor injuries, learning disabilities, falls on the playground, bullying at school, kidnapping, car crashes, college…the worry never ends because this baby has your heart now and there will always be some new danger that threatens it. The book said to get used to worrying.

But I say no.

I know I’ll worry and I know it’s normal, but I say no to just accepting that worry will rule from now on. Fear need not rule my heart, even when I cannot ensure that what I love is safe.

Peace guards the heart that brings its fears to Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7)

I can lay my worries before Him and then I am free, free to breathe and to try and to forge ahead into the unknown. He goes with me. And I can teach Abishai who He is, or I can teach him to stay safe at all costs, I can teach him not to make me worry.

But safe is not the best I can do for Abishai.

Knowing Jehovah is. 

 

Oh Lord-

Help me to show my son who you are. Teach me to let him be a warrior, a leader, a follower, an adventurer. I love that Cody’s first happy thoughts about having a boy were hiking and hunting and playing with sharp sticks. I love that my husband is not afraid of dirt or scrapes or the woods at night; that he scrambles up steep cliffs and gazes at the stars.

Help me to trust you, Lord, so I can let them be men as you intended. Men who face danger and find Jehovah in the mist. Men whose stories tell of giants and lions and dark places; of who they became when they looked to a God mightier than them all.

You do not always promise safe, but you promise close. You invite us to step further, a little further, out onto the water, out of our comfort zone, but always toward you. You promise you are near, even when we feel lonelier than ever. (Psalm 119:151)

Lord, I want my son to walk close with you. Help me to remember who you are when that scares me. For the same Psalm that says “You have shown your people hard things…” also cries out:

“…through God we will do valiantly…”

-Psalm 60:3, 12

Help me, Lord, that I may raise valiant men. Prepare Abishai’s little heart, even now, to know you and to be transformed by it. For you make us more than we are.

Prepare our hearts for the precious task before us. As Tedd Tripp says in Shepherding a Child’s Heart,

“You may not try to shape the lives of your children as pleases you, but as please Him…Your right to discipline your children is tied to what God has called you to do, not to your own agenda.”

My agenda would be guided by safety, convenience, and the desire for my son to do what I say.

But I can do better for Abishai than my agenda. I can teach him to obey your voice.

I will keep on obeying your instructions
    forever and ever.
I will walk in freedom,
    for I have devoted myself to your commandments

–Psalm 119:44-45

For a season, you have given us a son to steward. May we use our time teaching him to obey you, so that when the season of our authority fades away, we have done more than keep him safe, we have taught him where to find freedom.

So here’s to the making of valiant men.

We will get there only by your grace. Teach our hearts to remember that it is enough, and to keep looking to the hills for our help.