stress

This Far: why you can face the next thing

/ bekaburnsblog / Leave a comment

—

“Don’t you know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit who is in you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God with your body.”

-1 Corinthians 6:17, 19

—

I read this verse a week ago – the day before I lined up for my first marathon – and I chuckled.

Three years ago I was in the ICU. Last December, I was in surgery to remove a salivary gland tumor. I’m still managing a heart arrhythmia, POTS, endometriosis, copper deficiency, and a touch of asthma. Putting my body on a 26.2 mile race course sounds like a bad joke.

And yet, these last three years have taught me that “glorify God with your body,” is not the same thing as, “be the best, the fastest, and the strongest.”

“…God’s weakness is stronger than the greatest of human strength. Remember, dear brothers and sisters, that few of you were wise in the world’s eyes or powerful or wealthy when God called you. Instead, God chose things the world considers foolish in order to shame those who think they are wise. And he chose things that are powerless to shame those who are powerful.  God chose things despised by the world, things counted as nothing at all, and used them to bring to nothing what the world considers important.  As a result, no one can ever boast in the presence of God.“

-1 Corinthians 1:25-29

It is often in my weakness and my lack that people get to see Jehovah showing Himself strong – coming to my rescue when I have nothing left, answering desperate prayers whispered in the dark, restoring, strengthening, and quietly encouraging my heart to keep going when the storm doesn’t let up and the hard path before me stretches out longer than I can see.

He doesn’t need me to be the best. He already is the best, and He can show it through my life as I invite Him into my weakness. Our God shows Himself strong on our behalf, not just by enabling us to make impressive performances, but by empowering us to walk through struggle with impressive grace.

And when He asks us to glorify Him with our body, I think He means with the one He’s given us. Yes, that one. Worn, fatigued, broken, and not working like it used to, but this is what we’re called to show up in.

Sometimes, these bodies of ours are like Gideon’s 300 men. They’re not the presence and strength we wanted to go into battle with; they’re what’s left when so much of what we started with is depleted and lost. But for the One who can do anything, this little we have to offer is more than enough for what He wants to accomplish. He can fill and overflow in every place we are lacking.

And the glory He gets through our bodies is more than the fading glory our world chases after – it’s the type of glory that hints at what our souls are starving for. Peace. Wholeness. Contentment. Self-control. Joy. Rest. Patient longsuffering. Unselfish Love. The fruit of the Spirit, flowing through us in the midst of a struggle that should have our weakened minds and bodies at their most irritable and reactive….that is another type of glory altogether. And He can do it through you and me, in the very situation that seems to be breaking us and pushing us past all our limits.

“Why a marathon? Don’t you have enough going on right now?”

If that’s your question, I get it. I echoed the same one to myself all year. I think my short answer would be: “I was going through some stuff. I felt like the training would help me face it.”

In the days before the race, I realized some of it was probably a bid for control and confidence, coming out of a long season where I felt so helpless in the waves of medical trauma, broken plans, and transition to a new normal that hit our family.

“If I can do this,” I thought, “I’ll prove to myself that I’m doing better – I’ll finally believe that I really am doing okay enough to face everything else. I’ll know that I am strong and consistent enough to handle the next wave of things.”

But on the other side of crying out to Jesus at mile 22 to get us through this thing, my take-away was something different.

Running the marathon and talking about it with other runners afterward, I saw that you can plan, prepare, train and do everything right, and still so much can change in the course of the race. I spoke to some people who glowed and announced a finishing time they were thrilled with. And I spoke to others who told me that it had been a race where everything went wrong. People puked and passed out and got injured. I passed runners going down on the sidewalks, not able to continue, who looked like they’d done this a hundred times before. They were more prepared than I was and something out of their control just went wrong.

I would have been one of the easiest people to knock out of this race, because any number of the issues I deal with can sideline me unexpectedly. But this time, I was given the grace and the help to finish.

Me finishing this thing didn’t really represent me being strong, consistent and in control.

Me finishing was a result of aid.

Water, food, hose-offs, cheers and encouragement from the sidelines. Debby and Heather running next to me, mile after mile. Cody and our parents shuttling and caring for my little children. A backpack in just the right place to form a barrier between my back and the slick steps when I slipped on a muddy mountain hike just a few days before the race. Courage and strength in answer to a prayer for help to finish. The take-away is not the same as the why.

The why was: I want to prove to myself that I can face the next thing, even in this body.

The take-away was: I know I can face this next thing, in any sort of body, because He will help me.

He will answer me when I need him. He will be with me, one mile after another, providing aid. And when I ask, He will give me the eyes to see it. Jehovah-Ezer, “the Lord my help,” is his name.

“In my distress I cried to the Lord,
And He heard me.”

-Psalm 120:1

“I love the Lord because he hears my voice
    and my prayer for mercy.
Because he bends down to listen,
    I will pray as long as I have breath!”

-Psalm 116:1-2

“I prayed to the Lord, and he answered me. He freed me from all my fears.”

-Psalm 34:4

“This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin. So let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God. There we will receive his mercy, and we will find grace to help us when we need it most.”

-Hebrews 4:15-16

Remember.

I sense the nudge in my heart.

Look at this ground where your feet have tread and remember how I helped you. Take courage. Yes, in my strength, you can do this next thing, too. And my Spirit who is in you, whom you have, will always supply that strength as you cry out to Him, as you reach for Him. He has you. You are never alone. You are never without what you need. I can always supply it.

Oh Lord,

Remind me when the way ahead is long, intimidating, and unfamiliar. When I’m tired and raw and losing heart. In this place, too, I can be broken because you are strong. I can be sick and it doesn’t mean I won’t heal. It just doesn’t mean that. Look how far I’ve come.

26.2 miles. You got me through 26.2 miles.

Not where I expected to be, but look how far you’ve brought me. May I not lose sight of how far we’ve come. May my heart not be unbelieving, but believe.

Benaiah is one Ebenezer. This marathon is another. Because when he stabilized and I was still so sick and struggling every single day, I cried out to you not to leave me behind. I thanked you for helping my son, but I wept that I needed more. And you answered me.

“Thus far the Lord has helped us.”

-1 Samuel 7:12

As I look forward to the next course you’ve marked out for me, and as I reckon with the reality that I have no idea how to finish – help me remember what you’ve already done.

May each bench, log, rock, foundation stone, beam, truss and nail on our land echo it as our build comes together:

“This far the Lord has helped us. Just look how far we’ve come.”

And to my friends who are fighting not to lose heart,

Even when there’s a long way to go, let us never think lightly of “this far.” “This far” already holds so many landmarks of His faithfulness to you. “This far” is enough for today, for there will be another “thus far the Lord has helped us,” tomorrow. So remember who it is that dwells within you. He is greater than what you’re facing. He is ready to help you.

“God is our refuge and strength,
    always ready to help in times of trouble.”

-Psalm 46:1

He is ready to work in you a deeper kind of glory and He invites you to show up just as you are and watch Him fight for you.

“Be strong in the Lord and in His mighty power.”

-Ephesians 6:10

“Be still in the presence of the Lord,
    and wait patiently for him to act.“

-Psalm 37:7

“But Moses told the people, “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

You don’t have to have the answers or the strength. You don’t have to know which way to go. You just have to ask. Ask and wait, and ask Him to strengthen your heart to wait.

“I would have lost heart, unless I had believed
That I would see the goodness of the Lord
In the land of the living.

Wait on the Lord;
Be of good courage,
And He shall strengthen your heart;
Wait, I say, on the Lord!”

-Psalm 27:13-14

So, eyes up.

Breathe.

Shake out those tense shoulders.

Take courage.

Fix your eyes on Him.

Then run with endurance.

There is great joy up ahead.

—

—

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. “

-Hebrews 12:1-2

—

“So den, wat bout us guys? All dose peopo dat trus God befo time, jalike dey all run one race. An now, jalike dey all stan aroun us guys fo spock us run da race. Az why we gotta hemo all da heavy kine stuff dat make us run slow, an da bad kine stuff dat jam us up. We gotta hang in dea an no give up, an run da whole race dass fo us. Da whole time us guys stay run da race, we look at one guy ony, dass Jesus. He da One dat help us start fo trus God, an da One dat help us fo trus God to da end. Wen he wen suffa on top da cross, he hang in dea. Neva bodda him dat dey make him come shame. He do dat cuz he know dat bumbye he goin come real good inside. An in da end, he sit down in da mos importan place, by God throne, on da right side. So tink plenny bout Jesus! How he wen hang in dea an no give up wen all kine bad stuff from all da bad peopo go agains him. If you guys tink bout Jesus lidat, den you guys no goin get tired an lose fight.“

-Hebrews 12:1-3 (Hawaii Pidgin Bible)

A Quiet Place & Tractors

/ bekaburnsblog / 1 Comment

by Cody


“Be still, and know that I am God. I will be honored by every nation.
    I will be honored throughout the world.”

–Psalm 46:10

—

Right now, I am serving as the mechanic for the Homes of Ethnos 360. That means I work on pretty much anything that moves, and a lot of stuff that doesn’t. A big part of my job is maintaining and repairing the heavy equipment our team uses to maintain the property.

We have an assortment of machines, including a few small tractors, a mini excavator, a skid-steer, and two backhoes. These machines can take quite a beating when they are put to work, and it takes a lot of maintenance to keep them going. If not greased, the pins and bushing start wearing out. Radiators can get clogged, leading to overheating and serious damage. Fluids get low, or dirty, and need to be changed. Plus parts just get worn out or break sometimes.

Why am I talking about tractors?

I think that we are a lot like tractors when it comes to maintaining our spiritual life. We have so much to do and we can run ourselves ragged, forgetting that we were created with souls that need to stop and rest and connect to our source of life and strength. We get so busy, even working FOR God, that we neglect our walk WITH God.

In Luke 5:15-16, it says:
“Yet the news about him spread all the more, so that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.”

Here we see Jesus choose quiet connection with the Father, even at the cost of ministry. There were crowds of people, but he withdrew.

And in Mark 1:35-39, it says this:
“Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed. Simon and his companions went to look for him, and when they found him, they exclaimed: “Everyone is looking for you!” Jesus replied, “Let us go somewhere else—to the nearby villages—so I can preach there also. That is why I have come.” So he traveled throughout Galilee, preaching in their synagogues and driving out demons.“


Here again, people are looking for Jesus, and He is out praying. His dependance on the Father required time with the Father. He was not afraid to disappoint people to spend time with the Father, or to leave to the next place in obedience, even when those people there still wanted more from him.

“One of those days Jesus went out to a mountainside to pray, and spent the night praying to God.“
–Luke 6:12


“Immediately Jesus made the disciples get into the boat and go on ahead of him to the other side, while he dismissed the crowd. After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray.”

–Matthew 14:22-23


In all these verses, we see that Jesus made a habit of stopping the work, and finding a quiet place to rest and connect with the Father. If Jesus, the Son of God needed it, then I definitely do!

So why do we find it so hard to make a regular practice of it sometimes?

In my life, when I feel too busy to maintain my heart, it is usually rooted in fear. I’m afraid I won’t have enough time. I’m afraid it won’t get done right if I’m not there doing it. I’m afraid of disappointing someone else. But fear is a harsh taskmaster. Fear does not have your best interest in mind. And God’s Word has a lot to say about fear.


Philippians 4:6-7 – “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.”


We are to operate out of peace and confidence, not fear, anxiety and hurry.


Exodus 14:13-14 – “Moses answered the people, “Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”


Psalm 46:10 – “Be still, and know that I am God…”

Isaiah 30:15 – “In repentance and rest is your salvation; in quietness and trust is your strength...”


One of my mentors often says, “It’s not a waste of time to stop and sharpen your tools.” And he is so right. It is faster to stop and sharpen your axe before cutting the next tree than it is to press on to that next tree and beat it down with a dull axe. Our bodies need physical rest, and our souls need quiet refreshment with our Savior. Fear says “I don’t have time to stop.” Faith says “This doesn’t depend on me, God tells me to stop, and I can trust him to carry the work to completion if I take a break.” We have to remember that our most important work, whatever it is, depends on Him, not on us.


In John 15:5, Jesus reminds us:
“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.”


Psalm 127:1-2 says this:
“Unless the Lord builds the house, the builders labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the guards stand watch in vain. In vain you rise early and stay up late, toiling for food to eat—for He grants sleep to a those He loves.”


In our own effort, we strive and fight. But God’s Word reminds us that our efforts are not enough. We must rely on His strength, and we must remember that He is the one accomplishing what He is doing – even what He is doing through us. He is the vine, and I need that connection with Him for life and for fruit.

So when we find ourselves working hard, and feeling the pressure of the task; when we are tempted to push and strain because it all depends on us, we need to pull in to the shop and do a little maintenance on our hearts. We need to rest physically. We need to connect with our Savior and find His peace in our souls. Then, we are ready to get back to work, and we will be in better shape to do the work well.

Acquainted with Grief: misty paths and solid ground

/ bekaburnsblog / 1 Comment

—

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted
    and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

–Psalm 34:18

“What would you do if you were braver?”

“What would you choose if you knew everything would be okay?”

These have been my litmus test questions when I’m making an important decision.

Courage and trust are the values I want to live my life by.

Thirty-some days ago, we were camping as the year drew to a close, and we purposed to use the time to connect with each other, to slow down, to take in God’s Word, to get quiet, and to listen. We were surprised at what rose to the surface when we were still. We found that most of our good decisions come not from finding enough answers, but from learning to ask the right questions. And we discovered that for both of our hearts, the answers to

“What would do if you were braver?“

“What would you choose if you knew everything would be okay?”

…had changed.

Not that it’s up to us to lay out where we should go. I’ve assumed incorrectly so, so many times. But if it’s up to us to take action rather than only be acted upon, and we have the privilege to fight for the direction we want, it is worth noting that we really want to care for people.

And we want to care for people in an environment that suits the stillness, reflection, and quiet that most accommodates working through grief.

“A man of sorrows, acquainted with deepest grief.” Was a verse that came up in my heart when, again, this year, I was hit with some things. Again, I went through the cycle of shock, desperate positivity, disconnect, numbness, denial, fury, irritability and I recognized it.

This is grief. I am not new to this anymore. Grief and I are familiar.

And according to Isaiah 53:3, Grief and my Messiah are familiar, too. It’s part of why His heart is so soft and compassionate and patient with me.

And I know now that grief is something that can be moved through, lived through. It has changed me, but there is still beauty and life to be lived, and I will be able to enter into them on the other side of the mist, confusion, pain, and sorrow. Though grief is suffocating, and it can block you from seeing anything else, I know now that it can be moved through, acknowledged, and felt, one step at a time, until it is no longer ALL there is.

Grief will still be there, but there will be more. There will be new life.

In July 2023 I wrote this:

“I looked across the coffee shop at the only artwork on the wall with color. A picture of the mist in the jungle trees. I felt your nudge to go there. Metaphorically. Into the mist. Into the moments when I felt lost. Not just for other people, but for myself.

It represents the heat, the pressure, the moisture, the darkness, and the tangled paths of pain, suffering, and confusion. I am mostly out into the light now. And doing everything I can to not relive who I was in the depths.

… I don’t know. I DON’T KNOW what it means that you chose me out of all the pleading moms, begging you to rescue their babies, and you said yes. AND that you left me broken.

I have both “blessed be your name’s” here.

/Blessed be your name, when the sun’s shining down on me, when the world’s all as it should be, blessed be your name./

AND

/Blessed be your name, when the road’s marked with suffering, when there’s pain in the offering, blessed be your name./

I’ve had both before…but not at the same time.

SUCH blessing and SUCH brokenness.

Which will hold my attention?

Where you have answered or where you have said that your grace is sufficient?

Hope realized or the demand for more endurance?

I don’t speak of the events and experiences I walked through like somebody who lived a story that can be told…but as a clinical report. A timeline. A compounding list of my surprise, struggle, horror and angst.

It’s not enough to make light of it or excuse it and I can’t explain it. But my other hard experiences, in time, have all become good stories where I can see your faithfulness and I have finally, with some of them, come to terms with the rich context that they are for taking people on a journey with me to a truth that we both need.

The jungles hold that. And my soul needs it. To own my own story. To come to terms with what I have survived so that I can stand, firm and grounded and strong, on the other side of what I’ve overcome, instead of flinching, hunched and haunted – spirit broken.

And maybe part of the path to that wholeness, the first step toward those misty trees, is acknowledging that I have a broken spirit.

“The Lord hears his people when they call to him for help. He rescues them from all their troubles. The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. The righteous person faces many troubles, but the Lord comes to the rescue each time.”

–Psalm 34:17-19

Welp. That hit a nerve.

Now I’m weeping in a coffeeshop.

This grief is so darn unpredictable. That a beautiful verse about your nearness and your rescue…unexpectedly hits on how “many troubles” are part of the plan for people who are doing their best to follow you – not a sign that we’re getting something wrong…or that it would let up if we just believed well.

The difficulty is training, not punishment.

Jen Wilkin hit on this concept in her Hebrews study, and it has become such a core truth for me. Such a mercy for me to hold on to. That you have something for me to learn through this. That it’s not happening because I did something wrong.

That it wasn’t wrong to want another baby.

That I didn’t screw everything up.

That it’s not my fault my family had to relocate and my husband had to lay aside flying.

That I couldn’t control what happened to me and that though I did my very best to plan for it…it wasn’t enough, and that was okay. Because you will rescue me.

Each.

Time.

One of our pastors challenged our church this week to steward people well by stewarding the truth well. He explained that valuing and caring for those relationships means letting them see that your life is a mess when it is – because You work in that truth, Lord, to support us, encourage us, care for us, and provide safety for others in knowing it is not just them who’s coming apart at the seams.

Man, do I know what it’s like to come apart. Not just to feel the pinch of something, the underlying hum of anxiety, or to race with all I’m trying to keep up with.

But to watch helplessly as it all unravels. To stare in horror as the unraveling reaches not just my plans, my home, my work, my relationships, but works its way to me. To watch it fall to the floor and go limp and know that I have no idea how to put this back together. We have not just lost a couple rows of stitching here. There is no stitch in time to save it anymore. We are down to heaps of thread that have no connection to each other. They must be entirely re-woven.

And the screams of “Why????”

Why would you let this happen when I’m trying to serve you? Wasn’t there anything good in it worth preserving? What are the people who are still on the field serving you getting right that I am missing? What am I too dense to understand? Where am I not listening to you that you had to tear it all down? Did you not have my attention already?

In your kindness, I have had a few close friends remind me that you entrusted Job with his difficulties, you singled him out from all the earth, because of your pleasure in him. Not because he was especially hard to teach, but because he had an especially rare heart for you.

And so it is with many who love you and walk with you. Their paths are tangled with unraveling, pain, loss, plot twists, shipwrecks, and snakebites.

“So then, since Christ suffered physical pain, you must arm yourselves with the same attitude He had, and be ready to suffer, too…Dear friends, don’t be surprised at the fiery trials you are going through , as if something strange were happening to you. Instead, be very glad – for these trials make you partners with Christ in his suffering, so that you will have the wonderful joy of seeing his glory…So if you are suffering in a manner that pleases God, keep on doing what is right, and trust your lives to the God who created you, for He will never fail you.”

–1 Peter 4:1, 12, 19

I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.”

–John 16:33

Oh Lord, Send forth your word and heal me.

Transform me by the renewing of my mind.

Teach me and help me to ruminate on these truths.

Light my way through the mist, as we revisit the dark places, as we press into the pain, as I seek to understand…maybe not what you have allowed, but you. Your heart for me. Your faithful character. The One who will never fail me.

The more I understand of you, the less I have to understand the path we have traversed. Yours was no cake-walk. I can entrust you with mine. I know you understand it.

Psalm 34:18: “He rescues those whose spirits are crushed.”

Crushed…like grapes. Pressed…like olives. A friend once told me that out of the crushing comes the wine and the oil you use to anoint the wounds of others. But WE are rescued out of the crushing. Lord this is my prayer. Rescue me, whose body was saved, but whose spirit is crushed. I need your work of rescue again, Son of David, have mercy on me. Let me be poor in spirit before you. That I may be blessed by your mercy.

Lead me to the forest, and help me to be brave and patient with the process of sorting through what is painful, of watching things not be in place while you are weaving me and the pieces of my life back together, with frail, delicate thread infused dually with the oil of your strength, and the sweetness of your comfort. A many-faceted, complex garment you are weaving. From a rag to scrub up the messes, to the softest of blankets to wrap around the ones lost in the midst of those messes. From a worker (Martha), to a lover (Mary).”

I prayed this prayer one and a half years ago. And here I am.

My heart is cooperating so well with the medication that I’ve been able to enjoy running. My tumor is out. I can feel my hands and feet again. There are things I am still wading through and waiting for, but I’m no longer huddled in a blanket crying and hoping my life will somehow thread back together again (most days). I feel strong and eager and ready to build something.

I cried out to the Lord and He answered me. Over the last year and a half, He gave me the courage to face down that misty forest. I walked in, and I hiked, and I hiked and I go back often to forage, to understand, and to plant. The forest and I are familiar now.

He is giving me firm footing. Less often do I wrestle with “Will I be abandoned? Will I have what I need?” More often now it is, “Lord, can I wait well for how you WILL take care of me in this? Can I keep YOU in focus instead of the unknowns? If I can do that, I can do this.”

Of course, I still want recognition and attention, but I also recognize the sour aftertaste they carry now. The glory of men. Yeck. It doesn’t satisfy. Oh, how my heart longs to be filled up and satisfied with His gaze, His attention, His love, His approval, of which there is plenty to fill me up and stuff me full so that I approach other people not out of hunger, but overflowing.

And here I am today.

Trying not to be distracted by a random lot of land in North Carolina. Trying to push it down and focus.  But full of desire and ideas for it. For how He might use it.

Cody and I prayed about it and went to take a look. I’m not sure what I expected would happen.

But as we walked across it, from corner to corner, it seemed to me to be a place for souls in pain to heal.

Oh Lord,

I return again and again to the soft blanket idea. Have you brought us out and back again, and through so many things, softening us with each hit that our enemy intended to jade us, and finally bringing us to the edge of our mist, to wrap us around people and be a vessel of your care and gentleness to them as they face their own forest?

As we look to you and depend on you, would you pour into us and into them? Would you be close to us all when our hearts are aching and our spirits are crushed? You are the only Healer who can do the tender work of restoring broken souls.

Amanda Williams, in “Godly Grief” writes:  “I don’t want to experience grief and suffering. I can’t solve them, can’t explain them away – I can only enter in, and honestly, I’d rather not. The only way to get to the other side of the mountains is to walk through them.”

Something has shifted, a little at time, with each pass through my own story, hunting for the markers of your faithfulness.  I no longer want to shrink back from grief and suffering. I want to enter in with people. I want to enter in for myself. I want to walk through to the other side of the mountains, so that we may finally breathe in that view. I am addicted to those, “There it is! We’re going to make it after all!!” moments, where the light warms the edges of that thick mist and we finally push out into the open, and we breathe freely, for we have traversed the fog and it cannot hold us anymore.

Ryan Miller writes:

“Chinese bamboo takes 5 years of being watered every day before it breaks through the ground, but in five months time, it will grow 90 feet in the air. Your breakthrough will look different than you think it will. And your job is not to control when breakthrough happens, your job is to faithfully water every single day and trust the Lord for the breakthrough, even in the wilderness seasons. Because God does his best work in the wilderness. And your goal is to take the manna and to take the quail day by day and to say “Heavenly Father, I trust you for the breakthrough, I’m just going to be faithful.”

Lord,

You are the God who gives the breakthrough. In your time and in your way, Lord, not in mine. You are the God who knows exactly what to expect, and who has laid the groundwork and set in motion the provision for all that is to come. I am surrounded before and behind, bubble-wrapped in your protection and love and not a thing can touch my life or go one centimeter further than you permit. You draw the line and make the waters recede and all the universe must heed your voice. Broken things can be built up again. There is nothing this life can hold that can ruin me. And the hardest things, you like to turn on their heads and redeem for beauty, for healing, for newness, and for strength.

We will carry our sorrows, but you will carry us with understanding of those sorrows and with a solid, leak-proof plan to guard all that we entrust to you, to bless us and give to us and rescue us and make much of yourself through our weaknesses before a watching world.

/This is my story. This is my song. Praising my savior all the day long./

-Fanny Crosby, Blessed Assurance

/I won’t be quiet, my God is alive, How could I keep it inside?/

-Elevation Worship, Praise

Man of Sorrows, acquainted with grief.

Mighty God. Wonderful Counselor.

You understand our pain.

And you have held me in mine.

And through fire, you have pressed into my heart some things that must be said.

Some truths that must be wielded as a shield against an enemy who loves to kick us while we’re down by hurling accusations at us and twisting your character. In the times when we most need to collapse, exhausted, banking only on your unfailing love and faithfulness, he loves to whisper suggestions that you might not be so loving, faithful, or interested after all.

Not everyone is in a place to hear it. But for those who are groping in the dark, I must speak.

Don’t listen to that. Listen to Him. Hold on for all you’re worth to His true words. He loves you. He wants you. He’s working in this. We don’t have to understand how. I know you feel lost. This isn’t over. This way, this way, you’re going to make it, press into the mist, keep limping, keep coming, He is worth it, He is worth it, He is worth it.”

For this has been my story.

And this will be my song.

Thank you, Jesus, for you have brought my broken spirit here, to a point where it wants to be poured out.

“Praise the Lord; praise God our savior! For each day He carries us in His arms.”

–Psalm 68:19

“I waited patiently for the Lord to help me,
    and he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the pit of despair,
    out of the mud and the mire.
He set my feet on solid ground
    and steadied me as I walked along.
He has given me a new song to sing,
    a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see what he has done and be amazed.
    They will put their trust in the Lord.”

–Psalm 40:1-3

““His purpose was for the nations to seek after God and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him—though he is not far from any one of us. For in Him we live and move and exist…”

–Acts 17:27-28

You Light a Lamp for Me: meet the One who produces quiet hearts in dark valleys

/ bekaburnsblog / 3 Comments

—

I’ve made it one year knowing that there is a tumor growing in my body.

The Lord has sure given me grace for this year. And…I carry the awareness that it is there, hiding just beneath my skull, of uncertain nature and uncertain trajectory, surrounded by delicate structures, buried too deep to biopsy, and risky to treat. It has been challenging work to unload that awareness and focus on other things.

This month at my follow-up, one of the Mayo Clinic surgeons offered to operate, so I now have the opportunity to remove it while it’s still small, rather than treat it with radiation down the road. We got the surgery on the schedule and I have a little less than a month to walk through anticipating that. On December 6, the surgeon will begin his work. Mine begins now.

Doing the research and walking through this decision was a struggle. There’s a lot we don’t get answers on until the operation is over, and I’m the type of person that likes to know what to expect.

The fear living in my heart has a really hard time with not knowing the future. It looks at unknowns and says, “I bet this is heading somewhere where you don’t have what you need.” It stresses about what to gather and prepare, but never feels quite secure, even when I’ve prepared all I can. It aches for the things that seem to be going well in other people’s stories.

Fear sings in incessant rounds of “what if” and “if only.”

But peace says, “The most important things are not if’s.”

Oh, what mercy, that peace has broken into the conversation.

I am absolutely floored that, in the wise and careful hands of a God who cares deeply for me, a tumor is actually what dials up the volume so that I will notice a battle where I have been getting slaughtered, and get desperate enough to grab onto the strength I need win.

“You take what the enemy meant for evil and you turn it for good, you turn it for good.”

-Elevation Worship, “See A Victory”

I had some freeze, despair, pull my hair out moments working through both my initial diagnosis and this new round of options and information, but now I think this hard thing, in God’s capable hands, actually gets flipped into the training ground where I learn to take up the fight. Perhaps this is where I finally say,

“ENOUGH! I am done yielding my thoughts and heart to the anxious toil of problem-solving things I can’t control. I will take hold of the peace that is MINE and I will fight for all I’m worth to keep it.”

“You will keep in perfect peace
    all who trust in you,
    all whose thoughts are fixed on you!
Trust in the Lord always,
    for the Lord God is the eternal Rock.”

–Isaiah 26:3-4 NLT

“Peace I leave with you; My [perfect] peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be afraid. [Let My perfect peace calm you in every circumstance and give you courage and strength for every challenge.]”

–John 14:27 AMP

In his discussion of Ephesians 6, MacLaren’s Expositions says this:

“The quiet heart will be able to fling its whole strength into its work. And that is what troubled hearts can never do, for half their energy is taken up in steadying or quieting themselves, or is dissipated in going after a hundred other things.”

My heart is a lot of things: driven, busy, hopeful, productive, vigilant, and determined, but oh, how rarely it is quiet.

And yet that is what the Gospel does. Meeting Jesus, believing who He is, and taking hold of what He has done for you produces a quiet heart. At the beginning, and every time you sit at his feet after.

“Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.”

–Matthew 11:28 NLT

“And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts…”

–Colossians 3:15 NLT

Oh Lord,

The load is too big for my shoulders. I cannot bear it. I am a mess – a tightly squeezed mess trying to look and feel like I have all of this managed. Cody’s migraines, Benaiah’s brain, my tumor. Too many. Too many problems to respond to and keep track of all at once. Too many emotions. Too many possibilities. So little control.  

And I’m exhausted.

Can you take over? Please flood my heart with your peace and Let. It. Rule.

You are my peace (Eph 2:14). No data or insight or prep will be sufficient. It has to be you. That’s where my security lies.

You don’t miss one detail. You have kept us from missing it when we needed to intervene on things. Help me trust that you’ve had us all along, and you still have us now. You are faithfully leading us step by step. I’m in the dark about what’s coming, but you are not.  You are over the disease that stalks in the darkness (Psalm 91:6, 9). This surgery scares me, but I feel warning about leaving the tumor.

And I trust your leading. I trust your timing. I trust what you allow.

It is okay that the things that are challenging for me are a struggle. I’m learning. Help me to humble my heart and respond to the things you bring to the surface when it’s frustrating and stressful. You love me and you’re working on these things in me. I will keep needing your grace to encourage my heart, your mercy for my failures, and your righteousness to stand on instead of my own.

I agree with you about me. What mercy and grace you choose to give to me, I will receive happily, for I sorely need it. And where you allow it to be challenging, I will agree with you that I am ready, because you have equipped me for it.

In the past 4 years, I’ve watched my husband and both of my little sons rolled away from me and into an OR. These years have held a heavy, unfolding story of brokenness with little reprieve before we duck back under for another round. I feel my weakness and my weariness often. And I long for relief and resolution. When I’m hit hard, I so quickly think of relief as the place I must reach, somehow, someway, if I’m going to survive this.

But pain is where I press into you and find you sufficient.

You are the steady, strong, unfailing supply no matter how long my time in the deep lasts.

You are the place I must reach for, and you are reachable, when relief is not.

It’s when the fight takes us past where we ever thought we’d be walking, past the last of our endurance, when we collapse and still it keeps hurting: that darkness is where we learn that we want relief, but we don’t need it. And that is a powerful secret to uncover.

When you learn that even though you’re uncomfortable, you do have what you need, right here in the dark, you become something to contend with. Because someone who has found their bearings in the deep places is much more difficult to mislead.

If you’re waiting in the dark, too, I want to encourage you with this. I think our Faithful Teacher is in the business of leading us through the valley of the shadow of death in order to build us into sure-footed followers. We are becoming people who don’t fear discomfort or lose their nerve when it gets confusing, because we are learning to trust our Shepherd.

He is shaping us into the kind of people who can face down dire-looking circumstances and trust that He knows the way to lead us to the other side, and that what our enemy intends to ruin us, He will use to build into us.

One more thought. For you, the one who is doing battle in the dark:

“Finally, be strengthened by the Lord and by His vast strength. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can stand against the schemes of the devil.”

–Ephesians 6:10-11 CSB

It has helped me to remember that we don’t take up armor so we can stand against our enemy’s strength. We’re not warned about his strength here; it is so inferior to our Almighty God, there’s no power contest happening. But what we are warned about is the devil’s schemes: his attempts to get us off-center and worried that this vast strength will fail us.

In whatever you are facing, let me be a voice reassuring you that it will not.

So be strengthened by it. When you’re discouraged and stressed and out of steam, be strengthened by the One who will never fail you, by the One who is all you need in the dark.

Because He is light itself.

—

—

“I will praise on the mountain, And I will praise you when the mountain is in my way.

You’re the summit where my feet are, So I will praise You in the valleys all the same.

No less God within the shadows. No less faithful when the night leads me astray.

‘Cause You’re the heaven where my heart is, in the highlands and the heartache all the same.”

–Benjamin William Hastings/Hillsong, “Highlands (Song of Ascent)”

—

This, Too: hidden places and sacred ground

/ bekaburnsblog / Leave a comment

—

“Oh, the depth of the riches
and the wisdom and the knowledge of God!
How unsearchable his judgments
and untraceable his ways!
For who has known the mind of the Lord?
Or who has been his counselor?
And who has ever given to God,
that he should be repaid?
For from him and through him
and to him are all things.
To him be the glory forever. Amen.“

–Romans 11:33-36

Journal Entry – September 16, 2024

Lord,

You have restored so much to our family.

And today…I am scared and confused. Cody’s headaches persist, and this week he started waking up with numbness and spasms in his arms. Why, every time we could think about moving forward and hoping again, does a new problem come up? We have answered prayers – you gave the doctor an idea of what might help! And we have new issues in the same week.

I am straining with the hope, because it is heavy to carry both possibilities. To beg you for help and to brace for the chances that on the other side of this new treatment, we’ll still be searching.

If you want us to move forward, you have to fight for us, Lord. We can’t fix this! But you can. And I believe you are ready to help. Friendly to us. Working even now for what’s best.

I’m pleading with you to heal Cody. Restore him so that he can fly again. Or give us a clear sign that you have something different for us and give us the grace and the courage to go after it.

In her book, Pilgrim, Ruth Chou Simons wrote this:

“God is going to do big things in your life,” we often hear. No doubt well meaning, but is it true? Is it big when God allows a believer to wrestle with debilitating chronic illness? Is it big when a godly servant spends his or her life serving in a small one-room church in a rural town? Is it big when a mother turns down a corner-office promotion to teach her children full time from home?…Even small acts of obedience that go unnoticed can be big displays of God’s glory. You see, God is doing big things when redeemed lives, no longer living for themselves, bring Him glory.

…It’s as we do everything with deliberate intent to honor and exalt Him that we become active participants in bringing Him glory.” (pages 239-240)

Dishes. Diapers. Breaking up fights. Disciplining kids. Teaching. Tidying. Tending to tantrums.

Phone calls. Paperwork. Projects. Appointments. Errands. Cooking. Conflicts. Fighting off burnout. Handling people.

Here is the direction and purpose for all of it:

This, too, for your glory, Lord.

It all matters to Him. And not one limitation or obstacle can rob the tasks at hand from the potential to be carried out with great care and intention. From the grounding, true perspective that this IS a big thing because I am carrying it out for someone really important. Because I’m equipped for it by someone of great power. Because He is doing a big work even – and, maybe, most often – in the small, hidden places of yielded hearts that bow and worship Him in this thing, too.

So often, I am reaching for a set of circumstances – a place, a ministry, a need, a team – that represents where I believe I belong. And I’m so frustrated at a situation that is GETTING IN THE WAY.

But THIS is the situation that God entrusted to me for his glory. These things I’m facing right now are his leading, his work, his preparation, his stage, and his intention for me. I don’t have to get there. I’m already here. Right smack in the center of what He is doing in my life.

This part of it is not just something to get through. Not for me and not for you. This part matters. It matters immensely. It has been set up with great care and God intends to show Himself in it. In us, and through us, and to us. So even if it’s massively uncomfortable, I’m asking for the peace to not rush it.

This new thing we’re dealing with in Cody, it scares me to death and confuses me. But I am fighting to press in and decide that I am here for it. To keep getting before the Lord and asking Him to use even us, to use even this, to glorify Himself.

I’m asking Him to humble our hearts until we long for no glory of our own, but with every step we are chasing after His. I’m asking Him to help me set my eyes on things above, knowing that I am moving ever closer to my treasure – caught up in it and doing every small thing with intention drawn from it. (Colossians 3:1-4).

I have no idea what’s next. We’ll obey Him and trust Him when we reach it.

But I know what’s now. And now is for Him, to make much of Him. To not be dismayed, thrown or taken in by the jump scares. He’s got this. He’s got us. He is working out something so good that I couldn’t wrap my mind around it if I tried.

Me. You. Surrendered to Him and transformed by Him. That is the big plan. That is the course. And He is carrying it out. It’s not in danger of not coming to fruition. We will not miss what He is doing.

“Dear friends, we are God’s children now, and what we will be has not yet been revealed. We know that when He appears, we will be like Him because we will see Him as He is.”

–1 John 3:2

For those of us who’ve trusted in Christ, the destination of knowing Him, growing in Him, and being shaped into his likeness, is a sure and certain path charted from before the foundation of the Earth. The pressure is off.

We don’t have to reach some place. This path is about where we are headed, and who we are becoming like. It may take some turns that don’t make sense if I am the reference point. Because it’s not about me and I’m not the one that brings it all together.

It’s about Him. He’s the point. He’s leading the way. And He is going to get us there.

Lately, this verse has been a solid handhold for me on this rock wall where I’m often struggling to find my grip:

“For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be the glory forever.”

–Romans 11:36

From Him:

Maybe it’s more difficult than you or I ever imagined, but the situation we’re in is from Him. It’s hand-crafted and put together on purpose by a mind we could not possibly fathom, a power so dominant we could never grasp it, and a heart that is entirely for us. If He’s allowed it, He’ll redeem it. When we cry, “how could this ever be okay again?,” it is not the end of the story. This, too, fits into a big plan that’s going to come together in a way that blows us away, no matter how hopeless it looks right now. (Romans 8:18)

Through Him:

You and I have been perfectly equipped to face every single step of this, through Him. So when our stamina fails, may we not lose heart, but throw ourselves onto His perfect, unfailing strength and yield to His power at work in us. Wrenching our eyes, if need be, from the discouragement and weariness we feel and sitting at the feet of the One who promises to fill us, shepherd us, strengthen us, and restore us. Being rooted and built up in Him and believing Him for all we’re worth. (Colossians 2:3-10)

To Him:

Every single bit of it, small or big, terrifying or mundane, a pain or a joy, it can be offered to Him, for his glory. You and I can walk through any hardship with the attitude of “This, too. For you, Lord.” And it transforms a humble, painful path we might frown at with disdain into sacred ground we can walk with honor. We can endure and be uncomfortable and be broken and we can offer it all up to the One who is worthy.

For you have been granted [the privilege] for Christ’s sake, not only to believe and confidently trust in Him, but also to suffer for His sake,

–Philippians 1:29

So I’m asking the Lord to do this work in my heart. That whether there’s some relief up ahead or another steep hill I don’t feel like I have the strength for, He’ll teach me to pause. When my legs are burning, my hands ball up in frustrated fists, and my heart wants to wail “Haven’t I been through enough??”

I’m asking Him to help me see. To help me consider Him lest I grow weary and discouraged in my soul. I’m asking for the grace to look at how He emptied himself and to humble my own heart again and again. I’m asking for the strength on this day to step forward one more time and breathe,

“This too, for your glory.”

The Cadence of Dependence: squaring up with the Spirit one step at a time

/ bekaburnsblog / 4 Comments

“If we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.”
–Galatians 5:25

—

A few weeks ago, I was preparing to cross a busy parking lot with the boys. Benaiah was having a particularly clingy day and wanted to be carried. I was also lugging a purse and diaper bag, and trying to find a free hand to guide Abi. I told him he could either hold onto my pocket or grab a few of my free fingers as we stepped up to the curb. Abi hesitated and looked up at me:

“Mom, would it be okay if I had a new responsibility?”

I raised my eyebrows, “Depends. What do you have in mind?”

“Can I cross the street without holding your hand as long as I stay with you?”

I thought about it. “That’s a big responsibility, Abishai. I think you can handle it, but I need to see you be very focused if we’re going to cross safely.”

“I’ll focus,” he looked at me earnestly, so I continued:

“I’m tall enough for the cars to see, but they might not see you, so this is only okay with me if you make sure your feet match my feet. Walk next to me and take a step each time I do, okay?”

He gave me a determined nod and we stepped out. Abi did a great job sticking with me all the way to the truck. As I started strapping Benaiah into his seat, I turned and gave Abi a high five, “Good job! That’s exactly how you keep in step.”

My eyes widened even as the words came out of my mouth. “Keep in step.” Where have I heard that phrase before?

I am a visual person. But I hadn’t really slowed down to consider the imagery we’re given in Galatians 5:25 more closely: “Since we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit.”

I looked up the Greek word that is translated into the phrase “keep in step” in Galatians 5:25. It’s “stoikomen,” which comes from “stoikos,” and means “rows.” Properly, it’s used to express the idea of walking in lines or rows, in strict accordance to a particular pace. To keep in step. To walk in cadence.

I used to think of “keep in step” as a general concept meaning, “follow instructions” or “take the same steps, leading to the same places.” But this concept is more than that. It does not just mean “follow behind.” It means to “line up and walk in a row with,” which requires the same timing.

And It wasn’t until I was guiding my little boy through a parking lot with no physical contact to redirect him, that I honed in on the value of “keeping in step.” Of going beyond “follow my instructions” to  “focus on me, watch what I’m doing, and do it at the same time.”

I paused when my eyes landed on the word “cadence” in the definition, because Cody and I had actually just been discussing cadence the day before. Like most beginning runners, we both tend to have a lower cadence (fewer steps per minute) because we over-stride. It feels right, when you’re trying to go fast, to travel as far as you can with each step. But a proper cadence actually accomplishes a more efficient stride with more frequent, shorter steps. When you stretch to take the longest step possible, your feet work against your momentum because they produce backward force when they hit the ground out in front of you. Instead, you want your feet to land directly beneath you, using every ounce of energy to propel you forward.

Cody and I are both working on adjusting our cadence to reduce impact and injury to our feet, legs, and joints. It’s a long, gradual process to change it because correct cadence feels so weird when you’re not used to it. Those quick, short steps use a lot more cardio, but cardio improves as you condition it and increase demand on it. There is more strength to be had from that well. Your heels, feet and joints, on the other hand, will hit a hard limit if they’re taking too much impact. I learned the hard way, so here I am icing and stretching my heels with frozen limes instead of trail-running like I want to be.  

Over-striding not only makes you work harder for the distance you cover, it causes wear and tear. With improper cadence, you don’t get better with more conditioning, you wear out. I think in the same way, walking with the Spirit has to do not only with doing what you know is right, but with listening in and obeying as He instructs you in real time, in the right rhythm, at the right pace. It’s cadence work.

Abi knows how to cross a street and he knew where we were headed that day in the parking lot, but I had good reasons for keeping him right next to me through the process. In the same way, I might have a good idea of what steps to take and which direction I need to go, but man, does the pacing make a difference when walking with the Lord. The more life hits me, the more I realize I don’t have a prayer of taking those steps well unless they are by His power, in His timing.

“Unless the Lord builds a house, the work of the builders is wasted.”

–Psalm 127:1

I can bring a lot of hustle, but if I over-stride, I will wear out. If I reach for more or push faster than the Spirit is leading and equipping me to handle, it causes wear and tear in my soul. And so, I’m aiming for solid conditioning at the right pace, and that often feels awkward.

But just like with running, even if the right cadence feels weird, there is way more strength to be had, because I am depending on the right source. He doesn’t wear out. And when I am weary, I can count on Him to march out the next move and to keep supplying the strength I need step after step after step.

Sometimes, lining up with Him means shorter steps than I expect or want. Sometimes, it means getting still and quiet when I’d prefer to be moving. And sometimes, it means going further when I feel like I have nothing left, trusting that His strength will meet me as I move to obey, rather than trusting how spent I feel. It usually involves tuning into right here, right now, and putting my whole focus on the people He’s placed right in front of me, rather than trying to anticipate the situation twenty strides from now. Can I exercise both the restraint and the endurance to go at the pace He is setting and laying out for me? Yes. With practice.

How about you? What step is right in front of you? Where do you need to press on and keep trusting Him to sustain you? Where are you straining to go further or faster than He’s asking? Do you fight it when He leads you to be still? Do you believe He will be your peace when you need to slow down and your supply when you need to keep going?

Today I am praying, for you and for me, “to be strengthened with power in our inner being through His Spirit” (Ephesians 3:16), that we would not let our hearts be “troubled or fearful” (John 14:27) because we are allowing His peace to rule in us (Colossians 3:15), that as we choose to trust our living God, we would overflow with hope (Romans 15:13), and that we would take this day ahead of us, one step at a time, humbly and vigilantly squaring up with the Spirit, even when it feels awkward and inefficient.

I’m praying that we will lay down what feels best to us and allow the Lord to condition into our lives a cadence of dependence on Him.

“Now those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. If we live by the Spirit, let us also keep in step with the Spirit.”

–Galatians 5:24-25

“My heart and flesh may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.”

–Psalm 73:26

“Even to your old age and gray hairs, I am He, I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.”

–Isaiah 46:4

He Will Show Up for You: a gentle word for when your courage is shaken

/ bekaburnsblog / 1 Comment

“He spoke and raised a stormy wind that stirred up the waves of the sea. Rising up to the sky, sinking down to the depths, their courage melting away in anguish, they reeled and staggered like a drunkard and all their skill was useless.

Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble and He brought them out of their distress.

He stilled the storm to a whisper and the waves of the sea were hushed. They rejoiced when the waves grew quiet. Then He guided them to the harbor they longed for.”

–Psalm 107:25-30

—

Have you been through a storm lately?

Are you in one right now?

Have things ramped up past what you can control?

I love, in this passage, that the storm mounted to a point that all the sailors’ hard-earned skill made no difference. All their courage was overwhelmed and melted away. They were left with nothing but a desperate cry for help.

And that is always enough.

Funny, there’s no skill required for desperate cries. There’s no certain way we should wail for help. It’s not the way you and I show up in those moments that matters. It’s the way Jehovah shows up.

Why do I love how intense the storm got in these chaotic verses? Because I relate to those sailors.

Man, I sure do not have a lot of advice to offer for how to get things to go to plan. But I do have some experience with things falling apart, and with surviving. I have a lot of familiarity with the question, “How will this ever be okay?” That question and I know each other pretty well. I have waded through a ton of overwhelm, discouragement, and helpless tears.

I’m not sure how to help you bear up valiantly under what you’re facing, but if you want someone who understands what it’s like to not be able to bear up anymore – I’m your girl. If you want a fellow scared human being, I’m here. If you have collapsed, just know that I’m sorry, and so have I. I have a whole new level of mercy for when

a person

comes

apart.

I don’t know how to help you not let it get there. Some storms are a lot fiercer than I am. Some discouragement is really heavy.

But I might be able to help you remember that this isn’t over.

Maybe we can tenderly limp together to the feet of the One who IS our strength when we are weak and our hope when our courage fails. When we’ve reached that point that it’s all come apart and we have nothing – absolutely no way to turn it around. When our courage melts and we collapse into a humbled, limp cry for rescue, He shows up.

And the storm that fills us with dread, breaks our scales, and pushes us off the edge of what we are equipped to handle? It still hushes when He “shushes” it. It’s still under his control. The sea doesn’t follow our plans, but it’s still obedient to Him.

And He will guide us to safe harbor.

In her study on Hebrews, Jen Wilkin says this:

“The bottom of the Mediterranean was sandy, but the harbors had bedrock. So in that time, if it was too stormy to navigate safely, the ship would send a small boat ahead into the harbor with the anchor and have them drop it. The ship would wait for the storm to pass before entering, but the anchor had gone before them and held them safe until they could enter the place of rest.

In the same way, Christ took our anchor in. Behind the veil. It holds us safe until we enter calm seas and can follow Him.”

Have you been through a storm lately?

Are you in one right now?

Have things ramped up past what you can control?

He has you.

You are anchored to the harbor. You are going to make it to safety. Cry out to Him when your courage melts. Let Him hold you when you’re in pain. Keep waiting on Him. Keep looking for Him.

He will show up for you, and when He does, He will always be a thousand times more impressive than the storm.

“For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel,
“In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”
But you were unwilling.”

–Isaiah 30:15

“But as for me, I will look to the Lord, I will wait for the God of my salvation, my God will hear me.“

–Micah 7:7

“Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, “Peace, be still!” And the wind ceased and there was great calm.”

–Mark 4:39

Ready to Stay. Ready to Go.

/ bekaburnsblog / Leave a comment

 

“Whenever the cloud lifted from over the sacred tent, the people of Israel would break camp and follow it. And wherever the cloud settled, the people of Israel would set up camp…Whether the cloud stayed above the Tabernacle for two days, a month, or a year, the people of Israel stayed in camp and did not move on. But as soon as it lifted, they broke camp and moved on. So they camped or traveled at the Lord’s command…”

–Numbers 9:17-23

—

As my eyes traveled over these words, I felt prompted to pause. I think it was the specific break-down of time. Two days. A month. A year.

Since returning from overseas ministry for medical care and facing hospitalization after hospitalization, and scan after scan for both myself and my son, I have lived my life in those increments. For over two years now, I have not known whether it would be two days, a month, a year, or more. And I have watched for the day we can break camp and move on. I have waited for the day we can leave all this behind us and start to rebuild our lives.

But I love what this passage points out. Even when the Israelites camped in the exact same spot for an entire year, they didn’t camp aimlessly. They camped at the Lord’s command.

The location changed all the time. Sometimes it changed after one day. Sometimes after a week. They found themselves in lots of different camping spots. But the location was not what was most important. What mattered most to the Lord, what He highlights here, is so simple I almost read past it.

It’s that moment when they stepped out of their tent, into the morning air, and they looked over at the tent of meeting to see what the cloud was doing.

If it lifted, they broke camp and followed it. If it stayed, so did they. But the look was what was most important. They acknowledged, with a glance, that the decision wasn’t up to them. It didn’t depend on whether they thought it was a good day to travel or whether they wanted to stay longer at the current campground or whether they were tired of it. Day after day after day, the decision was made based off of only one question. What is the cloud doing today? Where the cloud went, they followed. Where it stayed, they stayed. And they started each morning ready to stay and ready to go.

That heart posture was vastly more important to Jehovah than their physical surroundings, situation, and circumstances. Funny, how easily I can get that reversed.

That peek out of the tent to lay eyes on the cloud is one physical example of what it means 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 will direct your steps.”

-Proverbs 3:5-6

And as I sat with that truth, a deep rest sunk in and settled over my heart. God didn’t need me straining to see what the next day, week, or month held. He didn’t want me trying to predict and pack early or to give up and start construction on something permanent. He just wanted me to step out each morning and look at Him. And then respond to what I saw in that glance. To be ready to follow Him, whether that meant going somewhere or staying put.

And all this time, though my heart yearned to be moving, staying put WAS following Him. He had us here. And it was good to stay right here, where He had us, only because that was the instruction we had for the day, whether or not we understood why.

This month, I learned for the first time that I had developed a deficiency. It was a medical close call. Left unchecked, it leads to irreversible nerve damage, and sometimes a wheelchair. Almost three years after leaving Papua New Guinea, this is the first time it really hit me that as much as I wanted to help, I needed help. And God, in His firm love, held me here until I got all the help that I needed, even while I disagreed with Him. Even while I was willing to just deal with the symptoms and get back to our jobs.

I didn’t see the whole picture.

When He says “…My ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” (Isaiah 55:9)

I mean…LITERALLY He is looking and thinking about everything from higher up than I am. And He sees pieces of the picture I have no idea are there. When He says to wait, I can bank on there being a good reason, however frustrating it is to me to keep staring at the same old campground.

He has this. And He has me. And just because He has me stay put, it doesn’t mean that what He has laid on my heart is going untended. He is often working on the very situation I’m so desperate to make a difference in, but in a better and higher way than I could, even if I could be there, hands-on, giving 100%.

Are you anxious? Are you frustrated? Are you tired of waiting? Are you straining to see what’s up ahead?

He has this. He has you.

So trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.

For a moment, get quiet and stop trying to figure it all out. Set aside your goals for this situation and hone in on the posture of your heart.

Step out this morning and take a look at Him. And then respond to what you see.

“None of these things could have been foreseen twenty years ago. Our focus was and is on obeying God and responding to His voice…

We need to relax a bit, turn away from the noise…and listen to the voice of God because He has put everything together. He has prepared for us a place of service and ministry and will open the necessary doors, despite the obstacles and the confusion we may experience during the journey. I need to quiet my heart in order to hear God’s direction…

Every step of the way has been set by God, and one step leads to the next. Rarely do we see many steps ahead of us…But like God did for Israel, He prepares us for one step at a time…We never know what we will need, but God does and has made full provision. To reach that place requires a power not equal to but superior to the opposition.”

-A. W. Tozer, “A Cloud by Day, A Fire by Night”, excerpts from pages 17, 22, 28, 30

Hope to Keep Asking: two simple ways God’s power toward us helps in everyday life

/ bekaburnsblog / 1 Comment

by Cody Burns

—

Have you ever felt powerless?
 
I sure have; and never more than in these last two years. With all our health issues and plans falling out from under us, it has been a crazy ride. Especially with Benaiah, and all that was going on with his little body. There were people all around the world praying for him, and looking back on it, there are so many answers to prayer.  But in the middle of it, we couldn’t see what God was doing. It felt hopeless.
 
I wanted to give up. It felt so hard to keep asking. We prayed and prayed for Benaiah, but instead of him getting better, the doctors kept finding other things wrong with him. Instead of making progress, each step only held more waiting. What if God’s answer wasn’t the answer we were praying for?
 
During that time, I was reading through the book of Luke. I came across the parable of the persistent widow.

 “Then Jesus told his disciples a parable to show them that they should always pray and not give up.”
–Luke 18:1 

I really needed that reminder. It gave me the hope to keep asking over and over and over.

Prayer is important and powerful, but sometimes I can forget the incredible gift I’ve been given to boldly approach the Throne of Grace. I’ve been reading in Ephesians recently, and one thing that stood out to me was Paul’s prayers and how he prayed for the believers to experience God’s power.
 
“I pray that the eyes of your heart may be enlightened in order that you may know the hope to which he has called you, the riches of his glorious inheritance in his holy people, 19 and his incomparably great power for us who believe. That power is the same as the mighty strength 20 he exerted when he raised Christ from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly realms, 21 far above all rule and authority, power and dominion, and every name that is invoked, not only in the present age but also in the one to come.”
–Ephesians 1:18-21
 
That sounds great! But…what is His incomparably great power for us? How does that apply to my life as I walk through each day and face everything that comes?  That is a huge topic, but there are two simple ways Paul specifically writes about as he prays for the Ephesians to experience God’s power.
 
The first is found in Ephesians 3:16-17a:
 
“I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith.”
 
His power strengthens our inner being. This allows us to face the hard things of life filled with the presence and peace of Christ rather than the fear that comes so naturally. 
 
“For the Spirit God gave us does not make us timid, but gives us power, love and self-discipline.”
–2 Timothy 1:7
 
 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.  And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”
–Philippians 4:6-7
 
The descriptors in these verses are the kinds of things I want to characterize my inner being when going through hard circumstances. Prayer reconnects us to his power, and to the inner peace He provides, when we’ve lost sight of it. Like Peter, who walked on water until he took his eyes off Jesus. When he looked at the wind and the waves, he began to sink. In that moment he cried out to Jesus. It was not an eloquent prayer. It was not the right words. He did not have the strength to stay afloat, but he cried out to Jesus, and was lifted out of the stormy sea. When we pray, it forces us to stop looking at our own powerlessness, and at the circumstances that have us at a loss, and moves our eyes back on to Jesus, the source of our life; our strength; our salvation. In the hardest things we face, his power gives us the strength to trust Him, to experience his peace, and even to keep coming to Him and not give up.
 
The next way that we experience God’s power is found in Ephesians 3:17-19:
 
“And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.”
 
Paul prays that they will have God’s power, not just to preach the Gospel or do mighty or impressive things; not to change the world; but to grasp God’s love for us. His love is that big and that important. Verse 19 says it “surpassing knowledge.” It is too big for us to know or understand, yet God’s power allows us to begin to grasp it. And when we begin to see and understand it, it allows us to be “filled to the measure of all the fullness of God”(v.19). I don’t know about you, but I’d love for my life and walk with God to be described that way.      
 
These are just two simple, yet vital and practical ways that we, as believers, experience the power of God. His power toward us:

1. Strengthens us in our inner being.
2. Helps us begin to understand the magnitude of his love for us.

 
While prayer is an important way to reconnect us to God’s power and peace, it is not a magic formula.
 
“Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.”
–Ephesians 3:20-21
 
Our prayers are powerful because our God is powerful. He is not limited by our prayers or imagination. I am so thankful for that! My challenge for myself—and for you—is this: Keep praying. Keep hoping. And keep being impressed by Him.

You Were Called To This: encouragement for when God is doing something…but I’m confused

/ bekaburnsblog / 1 Comment

—

It’s officially December. Are you taking in the lights and the music and breathing easy? Are you soothed and energized by all the gatherings and baking and letters and gift lists? Are you soaking up all that comes with Christmas? Does it feel like all is well, all is calm, all is bright?

Or are you feeling the stress? Are you under some pressure? If your answer is yes, I’m right there with you.

Looking back on this year, has it gone to plan for you? Have you faced a plot twist at some point? Have you been bowled over by something you didn’t plan for?

Many of you know that my story has taken a couple weird turns over the last 2 years. Cody and I finished up language study in Papua New Guinea in June of 2021 and everything was in place for us to transition into the flight ministry we had been training so long and hard for. We found out in July that we were expecting our second baby, and THEN the plot twists started rolling in.

I got sicker and sicker until the doctors in Papua New Guinea sent us back to the USA for a higher level medical care to manage the pregnancy. My OB set me up with IV therapy and an ongoing pump for nausea medicine, but then I was in and out of the hospital for abnormal heart rhythms. I delivered the baby safely only to find out two weeks later he had swelling, bleeding, cysts, and missing tissue in his brain. We tried to prepare ourselves for brain surgery and then the Lord answered prayer and the swelling stabilized with just medicine. Then he weaned from medicine and started meeting his milestones!

I thought “Maybe we’re going to be okay after all. Maybe, we’re finally headed back!” but his neuro team wanted to watch him for another 6 months. During that 6 months, Benaiah did fine, but my heart rhythms worsened and we discovered a tumor in my neck.  Benaiah was cleared by neuro in October and we got a surgical plan in place with Mayo Clinic for my tumor. Then my surgeon got better imaging and decided it was too dangerous to remove the tumor after all. He cancelled surgery, but reassured me that it will “probably” stay benign. I took a week or two to absorb that, thought I was ready to rally, and then Cody had an abnormal stress test and was referred for imaging of his heart.

Wave after wave after wave. I feel like I am a type A personality being crushed into a type B. You know how people choose life verses? For a while there, mine was Proverbs 20:24:

“The LORD directs our steps, so why try to understand everything along the way?”

For a long time here, my life theme has been: “God’s doing something, but I’m confused.”

After Benaiah was born, I went through a Bible Study on Hebrews by Jen Wilkin with my sisters and there were two ideas she discussed in that study that changed that perspective for me.

The first was the challenge to dwell in the “I don’t know.” Jen Wilkin prefaced the study by explaining the being confused is PART OF the learning process, and if we try to rush to understanding, we miss things. So it was a timely reminder for me to settle in and get comfortable with the tension of what is unresolved and unclear to me – it’s an indicator that God is teaching me something – and it may take time.

The second was a statement that has been so life-giving to me over this past year and a half: “For the believer, trials and difficulty aren’t punishment, they’re training.”

She brought up the simple fact that because our sins are paid for, the challenges we go through here on earth are not God’s punishment. We dwell in the unchanging, unwavering favor and approval of God that was secured for us by Christ’s perfect and satisfactory sacrifice on the cross. So, we don’t have to look at the hardships we’re facing and scratch our heads trying to figure out “What was that for?” We can just buckle up for what the Lord is going to TEACH us through it.

Last month, I spent some time in 1 Peter and I came across these verses:

“When you do good and suffer, if you endure it, this brings favor with God. For you were called to this, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in His steps…when He suffered He did not threaten, but entrusted Himself to the One who judges justly.”

–1 Peter 2:20, 23

Peter was writing to some stressed out people. He wrote to encourage them to stand firm in the midst of persecution. These guys were feeling the pressure. They were dealing with loss and threat and grief. Their lives were not looking like this beautiful example of God’s favor and blessing and provision. It would be easy to look around and say “Hold on! I’m just trying to do what’s right here, and it’s all falling apart! What am I getting wrong?”

When it comes to that mess and that pain and that confusion, Peter reassures them with these 5 words:

“You were called to this.”

Those words floored me. It was like the Lord took this blurry, confusing, “why try to understand?” section of my life and brought it into focus.

The hard things He allows in my life and yours aren’t just disruptions. They’re a calling.

And He left us an example for how to face hard callings. Again, Verse 20 and 23 say,

“For you were called to this, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example that you should follow in His steps…when He suffered He did not threaten, but entrusted Himself to the One who judges justly.”

How do I face hard callings? I entrust myself to the One who judges justly and I endure it.

You know what trust looks like? It’s quiet. It waits. It offers itself up as a slave and as a sacrifice to the One who will never waste what I offer.

Christ’s example did not have eyes fixed downward, despairing at the difficulty and loss, or behind, trying to make sense of the story, but upward, declaring “Yet I want your will.” And forward, to the joy set before Him.

That’s the only way I will be able to follow his example of entrusting and enduring:

To gaze, that is, to take a long look:

At the joy, not the loss.

At the Father, not the trouble.

At what’s ahead, not at what’s right in front of me, and not at all I still have to trudge through.

To look past the labor pains, to the new baby

Past the hardest leg of the race, to the rest and satisfaction of the finish line,

Past this body, to the new one,

Past the suffering, to the glory that outweighs it.

To be in it and yet look past it.

When I’m losing heart, When I am twisted into knots of grief and confusion; trying to make sense of what God has allowed into my life, what if I surrendered the need to understand? What if I entrusted myself to Him?

What if I looked at the most difficult and painful parts of my story as a calling? A calling where He promises to strengthen me with such endurance that my hope in Him survives it? A calling that Immanuel, God WITH us, has promised to walk WITH me through and that He has marched out in front of me, entrusting and enduring, looking up and looking forward, so that I would know the steps to get through it, too?

“…Let us strip off every weight that slows us down, especially the sin that so easily trips us up. And let us run with endurance the race

God has set

Before us.”

–Hebrews 12:1

You and I did not set the race that is before us right now. We did not choose the course. Believe me, I would have picked a smoother one. But we were called to this.

“So, if you are suffering in a manner that pleases God, keep on doing what is right, and trust your lives to the God who created you, for He will never fail you.”

–1 Peter 4:19

Oh Lord,

As the pace of life accelerates, may I hold up for just a minute to take a long look at you, in all your perfection, and adore you.

Thank you for your faithfulness to me, your compassion for me, and the example you’ve given me of entrusting yourself to the One who will never fail me. Help me to lay aside the burdens so my hands are free to reach for you and my heart is light to hope in you and my voice is steady to sing your praises. In my suffering, you are working, you are worthy. Lord, help me not to lose sight of that.