It’s Worth It

I’m not an athletic person. I don’t really like sports or physical activities as a form of recreation. But I do love to hike. Growing up, hiking wasn’t something my family did. But I discovered as an adult that I really enjoy being among nature in this way–as long as I don’t encounter any wildlife. I’ll take the flora, but none of the fauna.

Recently, the kids and I took a getaway to Santa Barbara, Calif. It’s not too far from our home, but it’s just far enough to feel like a new place. We live more inland and Santa Barbara is a beautiful combination of coastland and mountains. It was an ideal place to go hiking.

Our first day there, we took on a pretty easy hike. It didn’t require too much climbing or rough terrain. It ended at a beautiful little stream. The kids loved every moment of it. I remember taking it all in and thanking God for His beautiful creation and the joy of seeing my kids happy.

The next day, we took on a much more difficult hike. But that wasn’t the plan on the outset. We woke up and had the sack breakfast provided by the motel where we were staying. I hadn’t really made plans for that day–just to bump around the room until check out and maybe a quick stop by the beach on our way out of town. But the kids quickly grew bored of the motel room. (There’s only so much “exploring” you can do in a one-room motel room and the appeal of cable TV soon wears off when you can’t find anything to watch on hundreds of channels.) So we decided to check out early and go on another hike. I chose one that was listed as “moderate.” It was supposed to be a hike to waterfalls. It sounded so refreshing and beautiful–right up our alley.

When we arrived, we quickly realized how popular this spot was. We could not find parking. We ended up parking at the bottom of a decent sized hill. Filled with enthusiasm and a can-do attitude, we hopped out of the car to make our way to the trail. Once we arrived at what we thought was the beginning of the trail, we realized we had to hike another .8 miles, uphill, just to get to where our chosen trail began. Along the way, I kept asking people, “Is this the way to 7 Falls?” They all assured me we were on the right path. But I was so confused why it was taking so long just to get to the start of the trail. This wasn’t supposed to be this hard.

Eventually, we found our way to the right trail. We followed it and found ourselves at a barely-flowing stream. Once again, I asked fellow travelers if we were on the right path. They assured me that we had indeed found the 7 Falls, but due to a dry winter, there wasn’t much more than a trickle of water. As you can imagine, we were quite disappointed. But they encouraged us to head up another nearby trail to get to Inspiration Point.

After some debate among ourselves, we decided to take on the hike to Inspiration Point. After all, it promised panoramic views of Santa Barbara, all the way to the coast. As we started off, I could already tell this was going to be harder than I had planned or even wanted. Don’t forget, we had already hiked nearly a mile, mostly uphill, at this point. But we journeyed on. At one point, I decided I had had enough. This wasn’t fun anymore, it was painful and I wanted to turn back. But the kids wanted to continue. So I went a little farther.

Soon we encountered fellow hikers who were heading back down. So I asked them, “Is it much farther?” I’m sure they could see my exhaustion and readiness to give up. So they kindly encouraged me, “Well, it is a bit farther. But it’s totally worth it!” Spurred by their encouragement, we continued on, stopping every few yards to catch my breath and rest my weary legs. It seemed like every time I was ready to throw in the towel, we would encounter hikers on the return down the mountain. Each time I asked, “Is it much farther?” And each time they assured me it would be worth it. And every now and then, we would catch a glimpse of the ocean, a tease of the grander view that awaited us.

Eventually we made it to the top. And just like the hikers who came before us said, it was totally worth it. The view was breathtaking. I stood at Inspiration Point, in awe of what we had just accomplished. Once again, I took a moment to worship the God who was on display in the beauty of His creation.

As we headed back down, we encountered people on their way up. They stopped us to ask the same thing I had wondered on my way up, “How much farther?” I was able to tell them, just as I had been told, “Don’t give up. It’s a bit farther. But it’s totally worth it.”

By the time we made it back to the car, our bodies were sore. But I felt such a sense of accomplishment. I hadn’t given up. I hadn’t given in to the voice in my head that said this was too hard or that it wouldn’t be worth it. For the next few days, I walked around with sore muscles, but each wince of pain was eased by a sense of pride that I hadn’t given up.

On our hike, Journey was a constant motivator. He not only encouraged us to persevere (one of our family mottos). But he was seeing how God was using this hike as an object lesson for us. “Life,” as explained by my 11 year-old, “is like this hike. There are obstacles and challenges. But you can’t give up. And God gives us people along the way to help us.”

As he shared what God was showing him through this hike, I could see the parallels to my journey through healing from divorce. From the confusion and disappointments on the onset that things aren’t as easy or straightforward as expected. To the way God not only provides people to help as I climb my mountain, but also gives glimpses of where He’s taking me.

It’s been an uphill climb to healing for me. There have been moments I’ve wanted to give up because the pain just seemed too much and I couldn’t see why it was worth it. But along the way, there have been people who have encouraged me and told me the work is worth it. And every now and then I turn a corner and catch a glimpse of the view that awaits. Just like we caught sight of the ocean from time-to-time, there are moments in the healing journey where I get a peek at how the restoration in my life is coming together.

I feel like I’m still on my path to healing. But I know that once I’ve reached the pinnacle, God will be able to use me to encourage the next weary traveler. I will know the struggle and the pain. But I will also know the triumph of not giving up. So I will be able to tell the next person to journey on because it’s worth it in the end.

Best Laid Plans

Most of us are familiar with Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” It’s printed on coffee mugs, T-shirts, and inspirational journals. I’ve even written on it in this blog. Isn’t it such a comforting verse? But sometimes, I think we miss the point.

As I’ve shared before, this verse is part of a letter from the prophet Jeremiah to the Babylonian exiles. The exiles had been carted off to Babylon, all the while thinking they would be returning home soon. They were making their plans, much like we all did when 2020 began. Like many of you, I made goals and plans for this year. And also like many of you, a global pandemic, violent protests, earthquakes and fires were not part of that plan.

The exiles felt as I’m sure we’ve all felt: “This isn’t going to last. We’ll be back to our lives in no time.” But this letter from Jeremiah arrests them of the idea of a quick return to normal. I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to give up on the idea of “normal.”

It’s hard to give up the plans we’ve made. I’ve seen many of my dreams, plans, and expectations go unfulfilled. It’s really disappointing. I’m sure the exiles felt that same disappointment in learning they weren’t returning home for 70 years (Jeremiah 29:10).

Isn’t it funny how when we normally hear Jeremiah 29:11, it’s rarely in the context of disappointed expectations? But that’s exactly where it fits. You see, the comfort in this verse is not in the promise of good things, even though that is very comforting. The comfort is in the promise that even when our lives aren’t going according to plan, God has plans for us that are even better than anything we can imagine.

Letting go of our plans and expectations is never easy. But we can take comfort knowing that even when our plans go awry, God’s plans for us are right on schedule, no matter how it looks.

Thoughts on Identity and Contentment

If someone were to ask you who you are, how would you answer? Seems like a pretty straight forward question. I would likely list: mother, daughter, sister, friend. But is that who I really am?

All of those adjectives describe who I am to other people. They describe a role I fill in someone else’s life. But if I define myself by the roles I fill, what happens when those roles change or go away? For example, I will always be Faith and Journey’s mom, but even that relationship will change. They will grow up and move out and start their own families. Who will I be then? Grandma?! (I’d choose a much cooler name like Gigi or something.)

Understanding who I am, outside of the roles I fill, is paramount to my contentment. Being secure in my identity in Christ and finding satisfaction in Him will allow me to weather the changing roles and relationships in my life. But can I be honest? I’m not always satisfied in Christ. I know I’m supposed to be. But the truth is, just like I try to find my identity in temporal things, I try to find my contentment in those same things.

The reality is, I know that none of those things will ever actually satisfy. But I keep looking to them to fill a hole that only God can. Romans 1:25 says, “…They exchanged the truth about God for a lie and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever! Amen” (ESV). Every time I try to find my identity outside of Christ, every time I try to gain fulfillment and satisfaction outside of Him, I am exchanging the “truth about God for a lie.” I’m saying, “God, even though I know you are all sufficient, I’m going to see if this thing over here will meet my need instead.”

How do I break out of this? Psalm 37:4 says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart” (ESV). I used to look at this as a quid pro quo exchange with God. “If I give you this delight that you need, then you will give me the things I want.” So then I would manufacture enjoyment in Him only to be left feeling more empty. But that’s not what this is saying. I believe it’s saying that as I delight myself in Him, truly and completely, all the desires of my heart will be met in Him. He will not leave me wanting or needing lesser things.

Unfortunately, I don’t know how to delight in Him on my own. I need the Holy Spirit. So my constant prayer is, “Lord, help me want to want You more. Help me to die to lesser affections, so that You are my one desire.”

I wish I could conclude this with a triumphant statement about how deeply satisfied I am in Christ and how I know my identity is secure in Him. But it’s an ongoing struggle for me. I have to be deliberate to change how I think in this area. As Romans 12:2 says, “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect” (ESV).

Broken Pieces or a Masterpiece

When I was in the fourth grade, my class created a large mosaic mural of the Nativity. We used scraps of colorful paper that my teacher, Ms. Peterson, had painstakingly cut up. I remember, while working on it, not knowing what we were creating. We were just instructed to paste our scraps here or there. But as the project progressed over the weeks, we began to see the picture that was being formed. Suddenly those bits of paper became a masterful work of art. It wasn’t until we took a few steps back to see the whole thing that we could see what was happening.

Traditionally, mosaics are made from bits of regular and irregular pieces of glass, stone, tile, etc. Individually, these pieces don’t create much beauty. But in an expert’s hands, a magnificent masterpiece can be created.

Looking at the broken and misshapen pieces of my own life, and I’m sure yours too, it can be difficult to envision anything beautiful coming out of it. Just like the pieces used in a mosaic, in the wrong hands, these pieces can be, at best, discarded trash, and at worst, jagged shards that can cause harm. But in the right hands, they can be fitted together into something beautiful.

These broken pieces are being expertly and lovingly placed into the beautiful mosaic God is creating in my life. But I have to remember that I’m not the center of the artwork, Jesus is. Ephesians 2:10 says, “For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (ESV, emphasis added).

Forgetting whose image I am being conformed into (Romans 8:29) makes it easy to become disappointed with what I see being created. Isaiah 45:9 says, “Woe to him who strives with him who formed him, a pot among earthen pots! Does the clay say to him who forms it, ‘What are you making?’ or ‘Your work has no handles’?” (ESV).

Like my fourth-grade self, I can’t always see the full picture of what God is accomplishing in my life. I can become so focused on the one little section that looks like a mess of mismatched pieces. But I’m so thankful that the Master Artist knows the vision and sees where each piece fits.

Eucharisteo

Eucharisteo is a Greek word, meaning to be grateful, feel thankful; give thanks. I keep it on a post-it on my monitor, as a reminder to always be thankful (because it’s not always easy). But today is my birthday and I can’t think of a better word to describe how I feel besides grateful.

As you know, the past few years have been the most challenging of my life. There were times when I thought pain would define my life forever. But today, I can say that, even though things aren’t always easy and I wish some things were different, I am more whole than broken. And that’s definitely something to be grateful for.

I’m also so thankful for all the love I have in my life. I have a beautiful family and amazing friends who have loved and supported me through the worst. And continue to do so to this day. I have been by myself most of the day (my kids will join me later). But not for one moment have I felt alone this birthday.

So today, on my birthday, I want to simply say, “Thank you!”

“Give thanks [eucharisteo] in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you.” 1 Thessalonians 5:18

Undivided Devotion

I recently came to the realization that I am single. After nearly 18 years of marriage, this was not a reality that was easy to accept. It’s no wonder it took me almost a year after my divorce to identify as a single woman. After all, I was 19 years old when I went on my first date with my former husband. And 41 when the divorce was finalized. Even though I knew I was unmarried, in my heart and mind I still felt as if I were married.

The significance of the revelation isn’t a desire to “get out there” or anything like that. The significance comes in reading 1 Corinthians 7:

I want you to be free from anxieties. The unmarried man is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to please the Lord. But the married man is anxious about worldy things, how to please his wife, and his interest is divided. And the unmarried or betrothed woman is anxious about the things of the Lord, how to be holy in body and spirit. But the married woman is anxious about worldy things, how to please her husband. I say this for your own benefit, not to lay any restraint upon you, but to promote good order and to secure your undivided devotion to the Lord (vs. 32-35).

Even though I no longer have a husband to please, my devotion to the Lord was still divided. It was divided out of a 20-year habit. It was also divided as I grieved not only the loss of my marriage but the desire to be married. But I’m coming to realize that, for the first time in more than 20 years, my focus and attention can be totally on the Father.

This epiphany didn’t come with a magical transformation that caused big changes to happen overnight. It will be a process. But I’m learning to embrace this season of singleness, not as a consolation prize but as an opportunity to really seek after God.

I don’t know what the future holds or how long I will be in this season. But I am choosing to live to the fullest and accept all the blessings and challenges of singleness. I’m choosing to reorient my heart and be intentional about keeping God first.

“And he said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,'” Matthew 22:37.

But It Still Hurts: The ongoing struggle to forgive

Has this ever happened to you? You bump into something and bruise your arm or leg. It smarts for a minute or two. But after a while, the pain subside and you move on. But then you bump that same spot again, and suddenly the pain of the original injury comes flooding back. You realize that there’s still a tender bruise there. That’s been my process of forgiveness. I’ve tried to be quick to forgive, not wanting bitterness to take root (Hebrews 12:15). But sometimes a situation will come up, unexpectedly, that will renew the pain and I find myself in need of forgiving all over again.

“Everyone thinks forgiveness is a lovely idea until he has something to forgive.”
– C.S. Lewis

Keeping my heart free from unforgiveness hasn’t been easy.  C.S. Lewis said it best in his book Mere Christianity, “Everyone thinks forgiveness is a lovely idea until he has something to forgive.”

I’m reminded of a time when Journey hurt Faith. As I was mediating between them I encouraged Faith to forgive her brother. Her response was so innocent and real: “But it still hurts!” Years later, as I think back on that incident, I know exactly how she felt. How do you forgive when you still feel pain?

I think God must have had a similar dilemma. Over and over, from that first moment when Adam and Eve took a bite of the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (Genesis 3), mankind has rejected God in one form or another. Yet even in the pain of rejection, He made a plan, through Jesus, to reconcile us to Himself: “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8 ESV).

I’m learning that walking in forgiveness isn’t pretending like the offense never happened or the pain isn’t real. I’ve found that it’s important for me to process through the emotions of the hurt. And as good as it feels to vent to my friends and family, I have found no better listening ear than my Heavenly Father. I can be ugly honest with God. I can tell Him that I’m hurt or angry or some combination of the two. I can tell Him that I’m having difficulty forgiving. Then I can ask Him to heal me and help me forgive by the power of the Holy Spirit. And He always helps me. It’s not always instantaneous. Sometimes it takes crying out to Him several times. But I’ve also learned that forgiveness isn’t an emotion, it’s a choice. It’s not a one-time event. But an ongoing, daily–sometimes minute-by-minute–decision to let go of my desire for retribution.

I’m hopeful that one day soon those tender spots in my heart will heal. And the enemy of my soul will no longer have a bruise to poke. But until that day, I will continue to cry out to God to help me forgive as He has forgiven me (Ephesians 4:32).

From the Ground Up

Last month, I celebrated my 42nd birthday. And I find myself in the strange position of rebuilding my life from the ground up. I thought my life would be somewhere completely different at this point. I never imagined I would be starting over in so many areas. I’m starting from scratch in my career; I’m going from being a homeowner to renter again; and most notably, I’ve gone from being married to single.

I had so many other plans for this time in my life. But it turns out that all the plans I made, all the hopes I had were built on the wrong foundation (Matthew 7:24-27). Oh there was some rock mixed in with the sand. But as the sand began to shift, my life became unstable. I spent too many years taking a little bit of God’s word and a little bit of my own “wisdom,” and mixing them together, making a very insecure foundation on which to build my life.

When a building is demolished, it is completely destroyed. But it is only to make room for something new that will be built there. It’s the same with my life right now. So much of what I thought I had built has been decimated. As painful as it has been to watch what I’ve built be razed to the ground, I know that it is necessary to make room for the new thing God wants to do in my life.

Part of the rebuilding process is letting go of what was in the past and what I thought life would look like so that I can embrace the new thing God is doing. Isaiah 43:18-19 captures this perfectly: “Remember not the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I am doing a new thing, now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert” (ESV).

I’ve been given an opportunity to rebuild, this time on the right foundation. But instead of doing it on my own, I’ll allow God to lay the foundation and create what He has purposed for me. “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it labor in vain. Unless the Lord watches over the city, the watchmen stay up in vain” (Psalm 127:1 ESV).

 

Uncharted Territory

Having the plan for my life irrevocably change before my eyes has forced me take a step back and assess the direction I’m heading. As a creature of habit, it was easy for me to plod along without taking stock of where I was actually going in this life. At one point, there was purpose and intention. I had hopes and dreams and plans. But after a while, purpose and direction gave way to comfort and ease, which gave way to complacency.

I remember being asked once what I was passionate about. At the time, it seemed like a frivolous question. What grownup has time for passion?! We can’t all go chasing our dreams. After all, Proverbs 28:19 says, “A hard worker has plenty of food, but a person who chases fantasies ends up in poverty” (NLT). But I was confusing fantasies with God-given dreams.

I think about Joseph (Genesis 37-46). God gave him clear dreams about his future. I believe it was because he held on to those dreams that he was able to endure slavery and imprisonment. He knew his dreams were God-given and therefore trustworthy. But what if he had been practical? What if he had looked at his life and decided there was no place for dreams anymore?

I think if was asked about my passion today, I’d have a completely different answer. Chasing dreams doesn’t seem like such an empty pursuit any more–not when I know that it is God who gives the dreams. Acts 2:17 says, “And in the last days it shall be, God declares, that I will pour out my Spirit on all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old me shall dream dreams” (ESV, emphasis added).

As I’ve been processing through the end of one season, I can’t help but ask the Lord “What’s next?”  As scary and sad as it is to see the end of my marriage, it’s also a little exciting to be heading into uncharted territory. I’m allowing myself to dream again. I have decided that my faith is bigger than my fear and that I’m going to believe God when He says He has “hope and a good future” for me.

So what is next? I don’t know yet. But I’m going to revel in the dreaming and keep my heart and ears open to what my Father is saying. Because I don’t want to miss what He has for me in this new season.

Seeing God More Clearly

Recently, I was looking through pictures from the past three years. And I could see in these pictures when pain and suffering came to visit us. I saw pictures from our family’s trip to Chicago. On the surface, they looked like pictures from a fun family vacation. But then I remembered we had gone to Chicago for the funeral of a beloved aunt. Then I saw a picture of me with my mom and dad taken less than ten days later. Another beautiful family shot, except we were standing graveside for the burial another well-loved aunt. Then there was the picture of Journey smiling, sitting in an ER bed with swollen lips, the result of an unexplained allergic reaction–just another incident in a string of illnesses and strange symptoms he experienced that year. And so I chronicled the beginning of our season of suffering. Things got progressively worse. There were more deaths in the family, more illnesses and the most painful blow of all–a marriage coming apart.

It was strange looking back at these pictures and reflecting on where I am today compared to then. Somehow God seems nearer now than He did then, despite the fact that the suffering, at least on paper, hasn’t lessened. I have more peace, joy and hope in my life than I had before all of this began.

How is it possible that I can see God more clearly in the suffering than I did in the pleasantness of life? The enemy of our souls designs suffering to pull us away from God. He uses it to try to convince us that God is not good and that He doesn’t have good intentions toward us. His goal has been and continues to be to “steal and kill and destroy” (John 10:10). But therein lies the beauty and the contradiction of suffering. If we allow it, we will experience a nearness of God we couldn’t know otherwise. Our Father is so present during our trials. Isaiah 43:2 says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you” (ESV).

I have learned that God is not some far-off, distant God. He’s the Father who is orchestrating things to accomplish His good purpose for my life (Genesis 50:20). He’s the Son weeping with me at the tomb (John 11:33-35). And He’s the Spirit making intercession for me with groanings too deep for words (Romans 8:26).