Still God.

I dropped my kids off today, for what will be a new year of school. They have different haircuts than they did last year. They are older, taller, and have bigger feet. A lot has changed in their world since their last day of school last year. Time has forged on.

And God has still been God.

Much has happened in my own life since summer began. I went to El Salvador and watched my heart break in a new way over children I never knew. Wrote a book. Started running. Closed a ministry that had the heart of myself and my husband for a solid year.

And God has still been God.

There have been bumps in the road, relationship difficulties, misunderstandings and hurdles. Finances have been tight and life has been challenging.

And God has still been God.

There are many things I find myself wanting to write about this morning…and nearly as many that need to remain tucked in the corners of my heart. There are things I want to speak out about and issues I long to give voice to -- I want to defend myself against people who don't really know me but think they do and challenge people to get over themselves in order to do God's work. But God is preventing those things from being written. Instead, He’s asking me to do what I’ve always done through this venue and simply remind people of who He is while letting Him manage all the periphery.

And now, as I sit in a quiet house listening to the sound of Kristian Stanfill’s song, “You Will Always Be,” tears take form. Grateful tears. Weary tears. Joyous tears. To hear the words, “kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall, but You go on and on…,” I am moved by its truth. I resonate with its message – one of Jesus being faithful, real, and always the same.

In my ever-changing world, I could not need to know this more.

Today, as in every day, I cling to the character of a God who is who He says He is, knows my heart like no one else, and regardless of age, time, circumstance or space, is still and always will be God.

...whose consistency is unmatched. Whose sovereignty can be trusted.

Still God. Glorious God.

Fine Lines

Life is full of fine line moments.

Knowing when to speak up for something…and when to stay silent. When to hold onto something…and when to let it go. When to pursue something…and when to sit back in faith.

Choices like this are incredibly tough, especially when our feelings are involved and a circumstance could warrant either one. It takes a great deal of discipline and discernment to know which is right for the moment.

It takes a lot of prayer. Focused, dedicated prayer.

The truth is, we can’t make these calls without God. All of us have seen what happens when we rest on what we know to do and trust that we feel is best.

“I guide you in the way of wisdom and lead you along straight paths.” {Proverbs 4:11}

Without the wisdom of God, the roads we travel down are likely to be crooked, rocky, or impassable. We will mess up relationships, elicit heartache, or even...self-destruct.

With such high stakes, there is really no other call to make but to call on God, asking Him to give wisdom in decisions that look like they could go either way.

Because He is God, and we are not...

...with great ability to give peace in the difficult and confusing fine line moments in our life.

The Gift of Perspective

I’m convinced that sometimes we all just need a little change in perspective.

It helps us see things more clearly.

Complain less. Care more. Become open.

My recent trip to El Salvador with Compassion International did that for me. I wrote about it HERE.

Even now, I find myself thinking about the experience when I least expect it. Today, I found a brand new pair of kids shoes in my garage that my son never wore but outgrew -- crisp, white, and trendy. I wonder if the little boy I saw playing kickball in the muddy sewer water ever had a pair of shoes like that. I already know the answer, and I feel wasteful.

I want a new lamp for my living room. I reflect back on the mud-floored shelters filled with the pungent smell of earth but void of electricity, and the new lamp seems ridiculous.

It rains, and I refuse to leave my garage until I locate my favorite umbrella to cover me. Unwarranted pictures flash in my brain of a metaled makeshift roof meant to cover a family of 5, yet inadequate to prevent waterfalls to flow through it's gaps, unrestricted. I visualize the full-sized mattress 3 teenagers call their bed, directly underneath the falls and in constant jeopardy of becoming soaked during rainy season. Suddenly, I’m thankful for my cluttered garage, that I have enough money to buy an umbrella at all, and a roof that’s not leaky.

Scripture verses also hold new meaning for me since my trip. Just this week I read these 11 words in Psalm 86:4… “Give me happiness, O Lord, for my life depends on you.” Immediately, my mind drifts to a young girl of 16 named Veronica. I doubt I’ve seen such a big smile in all my life. I’m taken aback by her joy, especially after I learn of her story.

She shouldn’t be happy. Her home is not beautiful. Her world is not bright. Her mother is not present. Her grandfather is not nice. Her dress is not stylish. Her feet are not clean. She has a cot for a bed, a hole for a toilet, and skinny dogs begging her for food she does not have to give.

Yet she smiles.

And I feel spoiled.

I think about how her life depends on God. Every breath of it. I wonder how she has survived for this long, in her circumstances. Yet in my heart, I know.

He gives her life.

I cry at the thought – the sheer availability of Someone so powerful. The thoughtfulness. The care.

And I remember…not only the people that I met and left behind in El Salvador, but those I meet and others I won’t who share my same Savior.

And I feel thankful. For hope. For love. For joy. For life.

For perspective.

Life Lived Less Comfortable

I have a hard time trusting believers who claim to be completely comfortable with the way they live out their faith.

Do I think one can get to a point where they are in a better spiritual place than they have ever been? Yes. In many ways, that is how I would describe my current spiritual status.

But at a certain point, comfort stifles growth. Sadly, it is the existence of many believers to enjoy long, extended periods of spiritual immobility.

I’ve watched people become prideful, bitter, self-focused and/or flat out bored because somewhere along the way they have decided that serving God needs to be on their terms, which narrows their options in the Kingdom exponentially.

I’ve been there, too.

But the more I get to know God, the more I recognize the ways in which I fail to be like Him. It is exactly as Romans 3:20b says, “For the more we know God’s law, the clearer it becomes that we aren’t obeying it.” Personalizing this truth doesn’t depress me (though it does convict me)…instead it keeps me in a place of willingness to dive deeper, go farther with God than I ever thought I could -- be better tomorrow than I was today by praying harder than ever to emulate His character.

I am no more capable of this than anyone else. In fact, I’m a woman of more reservations, failures and inadequacies than you may know.

But I want to improve. I want to be more like Christ. If desire counts for anything, I’m at least on the field, ready to play.

Yet I know that where I am is not where I need to be. It’s better than where I’ve been. But that’s not enough to hang the rest of my life on.

I acknowledge that comfortable is the popular way to live. It colors how we shop for clothes, furniture and churches. It is the way we rate our friendships.

But God doesn’t call us to stop with what we did yesterday or how many years we’ve done service in His Kingdom. As the Creator of our talents, He needs not be convinced of things we could be capable to do. No one desires more than He does to see believers willing to rise to their potential. The truth is...

Knowing God breeds desire to be more like Him.

Loving God breeds desire to live life better.

And far less comfortable.

His

My girlfriend called me this morning with a huge burden on her heart. Though different from the specifics weighing on mine, I related to her struggle to cope with things out of her control.

People.

Circumstances.

Major life decisions without clear direction.

The reality is that there are just some things we cannot do anything about at the end of the day but say, “It’s yours, Lord.” It’s exactly what my girlfriend said after trying to first deal with it on her own.

For me, it’s an “It’s yours, Lord” kind of day.

What about you? Are there things you are dealing with that you need to let Him have?

Stop trying to cope. Stop hoping to figure it out. Give it over.

It’s His.

big.

I start this blog off with this confession: sometimes in the moments of my daily living, the knowledge of who God is doesn’t consume my thoughts.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but it must be acknowledged.

Other days, I can barely do anything but cry out the lump in my throat over the remembrance that a big God gives me His (very divided) undivided attention.

Yesterday I had one of those days.

My family watched THIS VIDEO together over the weekend. If you’ve never watched it, you simply must. Go to your local bookstore and find it, order it online – do whatever you have to do to watch it. But be warned: its contents may cause a throat lump to form, worthy of a big old ugly cry.

It’s a beautiful message of a very big God who loves a very small every last one of us.

Many times in my daily life I feel small…less significant than another…a whole lot of trouble for a busy God to have to spend His time, keeping in line.

Maybe that’s why my soul longs for a place where my status is cherished. Valued. Given priority. Tagged as highly important.

My heart rejects it when the world tells me I’m just a number. I refuse to believe the space I occupy is a rented one – able to be reissued or recycled to the next person who comes along after me. Yet sometimes, this thought creeps in.

And even though Psalm 139 is permanently etched in my mind, it takes more than a memorized chapter of words to turn me inside out and expose my innermost longings of needing to be close to Something bigger than myself.

Which is why I often need the reminder of the big God I love. I need to feel small without feeling insignificant. Valued without feeling entitled.

And on those days when I feel like just a number, I will look for those reminders that He is as big as I know Him to be. And I will remember why that knowledge is worth having a big old ugly cry over.

He’s a big God. And He loves you…and me.

May that never stop being a big deal.

Selling Books, Not My Soul

People who know me well know I grapple with this whole promotional Christian artist/writer/speaker world I find myself enveloped in. It seems I spend a lot of brain space wondering how to be and do what God has {dually} put breath in me to do and burned inside my heart…without getting caught up in the whole “author getting famous” deal that people claim has to go with it.

Trust me when I say: I hate anything that seems contrived, and often, that includes my view of ministry.

I was thinking about this today upon receiving an email from an old and dear friend. Her words touched my heart. They also jolted me back to a bit of spiritual reality, and caused me to remember something I find key in this whole ministry thing…

We can’t forget about people.

I know that some of you will be annoyed that I simplify it this way. It’s a repugnant thing to suggest to our fragile egos that we might (gasp!) possibly forget about anyone. But the very real risk in the rat race of self-promotion is that somewhere along the way, it could be the one thing that causes us to lose touch with our core mission. Not only can it happen, but often, it does.

Trust me, I get what has to be done to sell books. I’m just rebel enough to not want to sell my soul doing it.

Not everyone is contrived in this process. I’ve seen more than one ministry leader who has a healthy view of who they are and what they are called to spend their life doing. As a result, their authenticity is felt. The truth is, God doesn’t give a flying flip how many Twitter followers we have. (Even though I’m not too proud to admit that I’d like to have a few more, if I’m being completely honest.) What He wants to know is: have you helped me change someone’s life today by representing me well?

The results of the pursuit of spiritual authenticity are far richer than the pursuit of personal acknowledgment. May that thought be our compass and guide in the mad days of social media gone wild. If necessary, may we go back to the place we started, when our one core desire was simply to show the world Jesus. May we never forget about people, who are infinitely more than just a number to God.

May we help change someone’s life today by representing Him well.