Awakening the Virtuous Woman

2011-10-20T23:13:00.000-04:00

Hold fast; forsake doubt.

God hears.

Psalms 34

Psalms 40:1

An Alabaster Summer

2011-05-28T19:54:00.003-04:00

As someone who has a very fair complexion, summertime has rarely ever meant tanned skin. For me, laying out in the warm rays, although relaxing in itself, requires layers of sunscreen unless I want to look something like a strawberry. When I was a teenager, I persisted in believing I could gradually gain that sun-kissed look given enough baby oil. Yeah, right. I finally learned my lesson after enough painful nights of trying to fall asleep with a vicious sunburned back and days of putting up with dry, peeling skin layers. Occasionally, I still have the opportunity to wear the ever so luxurious farmer’s tan (burn in my case), but for the most part, I’ve decided sunscreen is a blessing rather than the bane of my existence.

So when it comes to my skin tone, an alabaster summer is a regular occurrence for me. However, this year, it means something different.

In three different places, scripture records an unforgettable occurrence of a woman with an alabaster container of perfume. Matthew 26:6-13, Mark 14:1-9 and John 12:1-8 all record the same event from three varying, yet synonymous, perspectives: that of Mary, Lazarus’ sister, anointing the feet and head of Jesus as he dined at the house of Simon the leper.

We first learn about Mary when Jesus comes to the house of Mary and her sister Martha. While Martha was busy trying to show her love for the Lord by doing things for Him, Mary wanted just to be with Him. While I am sure Jesus appreciated the meal Martha was preparing, He knew that relationship isn’t built on works but on intimacy, and He commends Mary for her willingness to pursue what was most important—time with Him (Luke 10:38-42).

Undistracted by the wealth of her family and their high-profile friends in the Jewish community, Mary knew she needed Jesus. Mary’s story, though, doesn’t end there. She also experienced hard places of wondering what God was up to and witnessed things beyond her imagination (John 11:1-7, 17-45). Because she knew places of closeness with Him and times of questioning, she chose to live outside the boundaries of others’ opinions—both those of her sister and those in her community. She believed in the glory of Jesus and His great love for her, and so she willingly laid down all that was valuable in order to pursue Christ.

Like Mary, I want to grow in what it means to sit at His feet and spend time with Him. And I want it to learn it from an alabaster summer.

While doing things for the kingdom is important, true service begins with our intimacy and worship. It is so easy to define our ministry activities as our time with Christ. We justify that since we’re doing things for Him, we must be close to Him. But doing things for Christ isn’t the same as knowing Him or loving Him. I can wash my husband’s clothes, clean the house and make His favorite meals—and those can be an expression of my love for Him. But I can also do all of those things and not make him a priority in my life or even be committed in love to him. The same is true in our relationship with Christ

Mary’s story also shows us that worship reveals and purifies our motives. Claiming they cared about the poor, some of the disciples, specifically Judas, resented Mary’s worship. In truth, he cared only for what he could gain. Our willingness to focus on Christ reveals places in us where we care too much about ourselves and our desires. Setting aside time for Him makes us deal with the heart of why we serve Him—is it to have our needs met or because we are truly captivated by Him?

In thinking about Mary’s sacrifice, we can see that Mary’s gift represented her life. Paul reminds us in 2 Corinthians 4:7 that “we have this treasure in earthen vessels, so that the surpassing greatness of the power will be of God and not from ourselves.” He is the treasure in us—our relationship with Christ is not about us having life all figured out. He longs to fill us—the alabaster containers of our humanity—with who He is.

As we think about how to live out this truth in our lives, consider the following characteristics of alabaster:

• Its soft quality makes it pliable but also fragile.

• Because it is soluble in water, cleaning (if not handled properly) can often mar the quality of the stone.

• “Each vein of alabaster has its own unique colour and characteristics”1

• Trying to mix alabaster with other elements to add support can often destroy the alabaster.

“Damage often occurs when alabaster is combined with other materials in the construction of an object. For example, a constricting wooden or metal frame or mounting bracket can impart stress on the alabaster, resulting in breakage. Old repairs often were made with metal pins or ‘cramps’ in the form of large staples, inserted into holes drilled in the alabaster. When these expand with temperature fluctuations or corrode from moisture, they can break the alabaster. Other repair materials found on alabaster objects can also cause further damage. These include plaster, and various adhesives that can shrink and become brittle over time.” 2

Battered by life and plagued by the enemy’s lies, we may feel broken with little to offer. However, the image of the alabaster box filled with precious ointment stands as a vivid picture of our lives once we are filled with the treasure of Christ’s Spirit in us. An unrefined stone, we have been bought with the blood of Christ. Any attempts to “clean” or “save” ourselves end only in greater brokenness, and the walls of protection we build in our own strength serve only to damage our ability to be the woman Christ has created us to be. But like Mary’s alabaster box, our true value comes from the life of Christ in us.

That brings me to the point of an alabaster summer. While summer is a great time of year for hanging out with friends and relaxing in the cool of a summer night, I want it to be about more than making great memories with those I love. I want to be changed in His presence.

To me, an alabaster summer is about:

INTIMACY—to discover more about who God is and what He believes about me

SATURATION—to be filled continually with His Spirit and experience the restorative power of His presence, so much so that it permeates everything I do

TRANSFORMATION—to know the healing power of His word and be changed by His truth.

With this vision in mind, I am going to go after a few key areas in my spiritual life and I invite anyone to join me.

1. Quality and frequency of our time spent with Him

• Is time with Him a priority in our day?

• Is our quiet time truly quiet (in other words, are the cell phone, email, facebook, television, and conversations with others a distraction or do we separate from those things during our time alone with the Lord?)

• Do you place we time in the Word above your time in other resources (Christian books, sermons, twitter, doing ministry)? While these are great resources, they cannot replace time in His Word.

2. Transparency and focus in prayer

• Are we honest with God about our needs and desires?

• Are we honest with God about our sin and our feelings/actions toward others?

• Do we take time to hear His opinion and pray according to His direction?

3. Quiet meditation on His Word and Rest (spirit, soul and body)

• Do we like silence?

• Do we seek out opportunities for rest (which is different than sleeping)?

• Do we look for God’s creative input into our lives?

Perhaps a bit unusual for a summer challenge, there are no guidelines for a set number of chapters in the Bible to read each day, hours to pray, service projects to complete, souls to win or times to fast. However, all of these disciplines--study, prayer, giving, evangelism and fasting—are intrinsic parts of our spiritual walk and should be a natural outpouring of a greater understanding of His love and character as we mature in Him.

So, if you so choose, I encourage you to join me on this summer journey. While the most important thing will be a hungry heart, I also encourage you to have a journal ready, find a Bible reading plan and let go of control. The God of the universe stands ready and willing and He loves to be with you.

My heart has heard you say, "Come and talk with me." And my heart responds, "LORD, I am coming." - Psalms 27:8 NLT

1. www.touregypt.net/egypt-info/magazine-mag06012001-magf5.htm
2. www.nps.gov/museum/publications/conserveogram/15-01.pdf

There You Are

2011-05-13T22:40:00.000-04:00

One of the most vivid sermons I ever encountered is one I never heard. Because I attended a Christian college, we were required to attend chapel each week, but with that requirement also came the grace to skip an allotted number of services in allowance for life’s unexpected moments.

It was one of those days, and while I can’t exactly remember my reason for skipping chapel, I can pretty much guarantee it had something to do with my head being on my pillow. (The same reason I skipped several, and I mean several, 8 am Grammar and Syntax classes. Grammar is tough any time of the day but positively brutal at 8 am). But for this particular chapel that I missed, the message was entitled “There You Are,” and according to my friends, it was one of those sermons that was well worth hearing. The premise was basic, yet profound: are we a “Here I am” or a “There you are” person? In other words, do we walk through life expecting others to see, acknowledge and affirm us; or do we seek to make others the center of our attention? It’s the sermon I never heard but have never forgotten.

All of us want to know we exist for a reason. In my limited understanding of philosophy, to believe we exist without purpose has but one end—nihilism, or nothingness. Such a belief is not possible for the Christian. Though we may face times of discouragement and questioning—and we do--to believe we live without purpose is to deny the existence of the Cross.

As a teacher, I find the presence of existential thought in literature to be not only intriguing but evidence of God’s handprint in our making. A seemingly intimidating concept, existentialism basically revolves around man’s search for purpose and the infinite list of questions that every choleric personality puts away in a box marked “unsolvable” and every melancholy writes on the walls of her mind to ponder at any given moment. Wherever we look, however, we can see that the desire to live with purpose exists in the heart of every man and woman.

And that is the beauty of a “There You Are” sermon. A necessary reminder that we were created for something beyond ourselves, such a message tells us that God responds to us with a resounding “There you are,” and His love answers the deep questions of why we exist. Yet the very fact that we need a reminder to love Him with our entire being and to love others as we want to be loved tells us that our once perfect design has been marred by the dogma of self-centeredness.

In our desire to know our purpose, we must remember that without Christ, we can produce nothing pure or good (John 3:27). We can be successful, we can be philanthropic, we can be motivational. But only those seeds born in the hope found in Christ carry true life, and in the long run, the true measure of our works isn’t in the act but in the heart (1 Corinthians 13:1-3). We were created for purpose, but living with purpose and needing to see the effects (i.e. needing to experience recognition) of that purpose are two different things. Think of Peter’s admonition to the church that the perfection of their faith would come through what they would not see: “As to this salvation, the prophets who prophesied of the grace that would come to you made careful searches and inquiries, seeking to know what person or time the Spirit of Christ within them was indicating as He predicted the sufferings of Christ and the glories to follow. It was revealed to them that they were not serving themselves, but you . . . “ (1 Peter 1:10-12a, emphasis added). The writer of Hebrews reiterates this idea by saying,” All these died in faith, without receiving the promises, but having seen them and having welcomed them from a distance, and having confessed that they were strangers and exiles on the earth” (Hebrews 11:13). It’s natural to want to see the results of our efforts—natural, but not the thing on which to base our choices. Scriptural truth isn’t ever circumstantial, and true purpose—if it’s found in Christ—is selfless.

Finding our purpose isn’t about what others see, acknowledge or affirm in us. Instead, it begins with a simple statement: “There you are . . .”

Letting God be God

2010-06-10T08:33:00.000-04:00

For the first time in my life, I am spending almost two weeks immersed in another culture. The experience has been priceless, unforgettable and not without its moments of stretching. Involving a steady schedule of speaking and travel, the trip has taught me so many new things and reaffirmed a lot of things the Lord has been faithfully and gently putting before me for a very long time.

To me, this truth of this trip has been that He goes with us in all circumstances and He is God.

As Scott (my husband) and I have traveled to three different states in Brazil and have yet to travel to one more, we have enjoyed the time together and have been blessed by the relationships God has given us with others on this trip. We have been reminded again how big the kingdom of God is in the fellowship with other believers and how much work there is to do in reaching a very hurting world.

Of little surprise to those who know me, I have come to realize what a verbal person I am. While I have picked up a few necessary words and phrases in Portuguese, I am usually at a loss when trying to communicate with someone beyond “hello,” “thank you,” or “God bless you.” I am way beyond my comfort zone. I have been incredibly blessed with a gifted group of translators and we are rarely without someone who can help us to negotiate the ins and outs of a Portuguese/English conversation. But I think the hardest part for me is being dependent on someone else to communicate what I am trying to say. As a teacher, a writer and a talkative person in general, I’ve felt fairly adequate in my abilities to express myself (my husband and my family will all smile at this statement, I’m sure!).

Far more than my needing someone else to communicate for me, I am reminded again that God must be the One who goes before me—that I cannot rest in my own abilities to help someone understand my heart. My role is to be faithful to what He has told me to say and entrust the rest to Him. Not an easy thing for me.

Take last night as a case in point. Scott and I had the opportunity to be at the 8th Presbyterian (yes, the 8th) Church in Belo Horizonte. I shared a message the Lord had given me to share the prior Sunday morning at a church in Brasilia but I felt led to emphasize a different portion of the scripture and a different part of the message. After I opened in prayer, the translator read the portion of scripture I was working off of for the message. Prior to that point in the service, I had felt a sense of readiness in sharing what I felt I was supposed to share. As I was sharing, however, I felt as if I was struggling to communicate what it was I wanted to say. My thoughts felt all over the place—and in truth, they were. The message wasn’t as well-organized or communicated as it could have been.

I’d love to be able to say that I took it in stride, let go of the frustration and felt at peace. But I can’t.

I analyzed and reanalyzed. Then I went to sleep. When I woke up, I remembered every unfinished thought, every weak point, every unclear example. I could leave the United States behind to travel to Brazil, but I had brought my self-centeredness with me. As I have spent time talking to the Lord this morning, He reminded me that He holds me, that He is God and that is enough. He can finish whatever my words left unfinished. He can clarify whatever I may have left muddy.

I trust Him to be my Translator.

God has already done above and beyond what I could have asked for this trip. I came with great expectations for Him to move, and He has done so. Last night was a reminder that my expectations must remain on Him and not on myself.
Last night as I was wrestling with my emotions—missing our children, feeling tired, over-dramatizing my inadequacies and just wanting to give-up—Scott told me he was proud of me. Not because I’ve done it all right, and not because my husband thinks this trip is about my abilities. But because we both understand this trip is about God and as someone told me recently, “Being a child of God isn’t about perfection; it’s about hunger.” And I’m hungry for God to accomplish what He wants to do in and through me—so, giving up is not an option. There’s still much to do.

We are thankful to know that He who begins a good work in us is the same One who is faithful to complete that work—this is my prayer not only for the women God has blessed me to know on this trip, but for those God has put in my life back home and in my own life as well.

Que Deus seja glorificado sempre. (May God be glorified always.)

Forgiveness

2010-04-07T16:51:00.000-04:00

Forgivness is a gift we love to receive and yet many times one that requires great strength in order to give. I recently had the opportunity to see The Heart of Texas, a movie with a powerful message about our choice to live out forgiveness rather than just know about it. Without question, the movie reached me in some deep places.

Because of a "first-rights" agreement I have with Our Daily Journey, I am unable to publish my blog on the movie at this posting site, but check out this link to see my response:

http://www.ourdailyjourney.org/2010/04/07/even-if-youve-never-been-to-texas/.

Sanctity of Life and My Coffee Cup

2010-01-24T20:00:00.004-05:00

For the past several years, Sanctity of Life Sunday has typically meant a sermon about the value of human life, a few mailers from our local pro-life organization and a Monday morning news article depicting local pro-life advocates gathering at a rally. I have prayed for God to renew the heart of our country, and I have grieved with women who have borne the heartache of the aftermath of an abortion. For me, my every response to government stems from my understanding of life according to the Word and God’s creation of it.

As one born in 1973, the year of the Roe vs. Wade Supreme Court decision, I have always felt a burden to make my life count for the kingdom of God, especially in regards to the destructive lies the enemy feeds women about freedom. Growing up, my parents—specifically, my mom—taught me that conviction and action are inseparable. For a long time, I’ve been asking God what more I could do to make my life resound with my belief that life is a gift from God and as such, every life matters from the moment of conception.

My time being fully committed elsewhere in ministry, I did not feel that the answer was to put another thing on my schedule. Likewise, my husband and I had already put our giving in the areas we felt directed by the Lord. So, I began to ask the Lord to show me what more I could do.

I didn’t expect the answer to come in my coffee cup.

Somewhere in my senior year in college, coffee became a dietary staple. Whether it was the idea of seeming more adult, a tribute to my father (an avid coffee drinker) or the need for caffeine, coffee has since made its way into my daily routine. Even though I have even given up the caffeinated part, the coffee still remains. While my choice of creamers and flavors have fluctuated over the years, my favorite remains an extra hot decaf mocha made with skim milk (and on certain occasions, a peppermint mocha).

So you can only imagine how much I rejoiced when not one but multiple Starbucks came to town. Anyone who enjoys a good cup of coffee knows not all coffee shops are the same.

At various points since discovering the warmth and atmosphere of a neighborhood Starbucks, I felt the Lord leading me to step away from my mochas in a place of remembering that He is my comfort and my reward. Although I would sometimes question if four bucks was too much for a cup of coffee, one sip would have me reminding myself that this one indulgence was doable since I am not a big spender in other areas. A few weeks ago, however, the Lord took me in a direction I little expected to go. As I was driving to work with my very hot, very good peppermint mocha in hand, I heard Him speak something into my spirit that answered my question of how much Starbucks is too much.

Over the years, I had heard the debate about the quotes on the cups, and I had heard the questions about benefits for domestic partnerships. But I had never contemplated Starbucks position on life. When I arrived at my desk that morning I ran a quick search and what I encountered left me with a decision about conviction and action (http://www.wnd.com/news/article.asp?ARTICLE_ID=45694).

It was as if the Lord was saying, “Remember when you asked me what more you could do?”

So, for me, I won’t be toting a Starbucks cup anymore—at least not until they no longer partner with death. The apostle Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 8 and 10 that our righteousness is not found in what we eat or don’t eat, nor do we find favor with God by creating a list of rules. Neither should I be watching other people’s coffee cups to determine if they are holy or not. For me, it’s not about legalism but a call to obedience from the Lord as to where I spend my money. I asked Him, “What more can I do?” and He answered. I can’t argue with that.

All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful, but not all things edify. Let no one seek his own good, but that of his neighbor . . . Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God.
--1 Corinthians 10:23-24, 31 (NASB).

Order in the House

2009-11-29T22:20:00.002-05:00

When I was a kid, my mom tried everything to motivate me to keep my room clean. My sister was—and still is for the most part—an impeccable neatnic. Suffice it to say, I am not. Although my organizational skills have improved drastically since my elementary school days, I lack the innate gift for order. I love order. I just don’t like the work it takes to make it happen.

One of the stories my sister and I love to tell is that of the infamous “Clean Room Awards.” Exhausted with every other attempt at making me keep my room clean, my mom came up with the creative idea to give my sister and me certificates for each day we kept our rooms clean. When we earned ten awards, we could trade them in for a trip to Dairy Queen. My sister earned hers in ten days flat. I don’t remember how long it took me to earn mine. I do, however, remember the momentous day when I was able to trade my awards for a peanut buster parfait.

Something happened, though, between the last bite of ice cream and the next morning. When over the course of the next few days, my mom saw my room deteriorating to its previous state, she reminded me to clean my room so I could earn another award. As the story goes, I told her she could keep her clean room awards because I’d rather have a messy room. Perhaps I sensed the unfair advantage my sister had over me and the stealth attempt to modify my behavior, or maybe I was holding out for the creative right to have my room the way I wanted it. Either way, the saga of the “Clean Room Awards” ended with my refusal to participate in the program. (Thinking back on it, I realize how many DQ trips my sister lost out on because of my boycott. Sorry, Renee. You might want to take that one up with Mom).

Although my mother could never convince me how my messy room affected anyone other than me, as I’ve grown older, I better understand the concept of how my choices affect others. I can’t just claim the creative right to have things the way I want them or excuse a lack of order as part of my personality.

However, this knowledge that our actions affect others can sometimes turn in on us. Instead of making sure my actions do not bring unnecessary hurt to anyone else, I can become acutely aware of how others’ choices are affecting me. In doing so, we I become bogged down in watching the decisions others make. Order becomes less about what God is calling me to do and more about comparing my life to someone else’s.

I’ll be the first to say that my flesh is much more comfortable identifying the places where others lack order rather than dealing with the places of disorder in my own life. It’s the sin of justification. It becomes especially easy when someone else’s choices are creating ripple effects in my life. It’s a self-centeredness that’s hard to recognize because it involves a significant focus on someone else’s actions.

But it’s still destructive, and it keeps me from seeing the places in my life where God is calling me to get it right. It’s a measurement of “relative” order. Compared to my sister’s room, my room was a disaster zone. Put it up against a pig sty, and it wasn’t that bad. To keep me from dealing with my own junk, the only thing the enemy needs to do is make someone else’s faults seem more egregious. If I buy into his lies, I will eventually push away from those who are walking in victory in areas where I am struggling because I won’t like the discomfort that comes with the call to change. I’d rather spend my time belaboring what other people need to do differently.

I’m deeply passionate for order in the body of Christ. As believers, we of all people should take seriously the commandment to “walk in a manner worthy” (Ephesians 4:1). Even greater is the call upon the life of a leader. How easily, though, I can hold fast to that verse when assessing the lives those around me and miss the verses that follow. Any call to order should be given “with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing tolerance for one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace” (Ephesians 4:2-3).

Accountability is real—and essential—in the body of Christ. However, order must begin at home—and not just in the areas where we see others failing, but in the very areas God is addressing with us. God isn’t going to ask me how well I kept my life in order compared to others. He’s going to ask me how well I lived my life according to His Word.

Feeling Competitive

2009-07-02T09:46:00.003-04:00

When I was a little girl, I loved to play Aggravation, a game which involved moving marble pieces around a playing board in an attempt to bring them from the start box to home base. Somewhat akin to Sorry, it involves both chance and strategy. My mom would be quick to point out that my strategy was usually dancing around the table until everyone got so distracted they couldn’t remember whether they were coming or going. My mom still has our gameboard, complete with drag marks from moving my marble across the surface with great determination.

My family’s favorite Aggravation story involves telling of the times I would play by myself when no one dared take me on. I would set up two players, decide which one was the real me and roll for both. When I didn’t like the roll I got, I would give it to the other imaginary player. Little surprise, I usually won. As my Aggravation days prove, I can be pretty competitive. Just ask my husband about the first time I played Risk.

While I’ve learned how to lose gracefully at board games, I still deal with some less than desirable feelings when challenged with the notion that I just might be wrong about something.

Like most people, I love to be right. Lately, though, I’m beginning to understand that more important than being right is being right before the Lord. In His gentle way, the Lord’s been teaching me that fear lives at the root of any need to be proven right. There’s nothing wrong with striving for excellence—we’re called to excellence in the body of Christ. But pursuing excellence doesn’t mean we always get it right. Sometimes it means learning from the places where we’ve been wrong. I’m also learning that just because we’ve done what the Lord has asked of us doesn’t mean other people will realize we’ve made the right decision.

When it comes to our relationships with others, Hebrews 10:24 gives good counsel: “[A]nd let us consider how to stimulate one another to love and good deeds.” In all things, the Word should be our standard, and in our relationships with others, all things should be based on love. If I feel I’m right about something, I need to surrender it to the Lord. Any good we do belongs to Him anyways. At the point at which I feel the need to be right, however, I need to ask the Holy Spirit to search my heart. While a competitive spirit can motivate us to push past our fears and seeming inadequacies, the need to be right will lead us only toward destruction.

Proverbs 29:23—A man’s pride will bring him low, but a humble spirit will obtain honor.

These Shoes Were Made For . . .

2009-04-29T22:50:00.004-04:00

I’ve never been much of a shoe girl. It’s not that I don’t like them. I’ve always loved getting a new pair of shoes. When it comes to adding to my collection, though, my pragmatism tends to win out. Far from flashy, my shoe rack has been stocked around the principle if they aren’t multi-functional, I don’t need them. Tennis shoes, brown boots, black boots, black heels (three pairs to be exact), more black in my sandals with one brown pair thrown in, a pair of black flip-flops someone left in my van and never claimed, along with a few other variations. I even have a pair of mid-90’s snow boots left over from my days in Minnesota and Massachusetts. As if it will ever snow enough for boots in Augusta! If it does, just look for the fashion faux pas and you’ll find me.

Because of my inner bent toward the practical, stilettos were never high on my shoe shopping radar. I like to be able to take stairs and run down hallways without fear of hurting myself. Recently, though, I’ve discovered that stilettos were made for much more than walking.

One Monday morning in mid-March, I was sitting in the Walmart parking lot texting one of the girls in my small group about an event we were planning. In the midst of thinking through the details of the coming day, I couldn’t shake the discouragement that wrapped itself so easily around my heart. My heaviness of heart had nothing to do with anything having gone wrong that day or anything I was anticipating. Rather, I had been asking God some big questions all weekend—questions about purpose and calling. I needed His reassurance. I could tell this wasn’t just a mood. I knew I was in a spiritual wrestling match with my thoughts and emotions. I simply had to press through and make a choice to trust. Finishing our conversation about the event details, I closed out by asking her to keep me in prayer.

I was asking for prayer, but God was doing so much more.

Later that day, when I arrived home after picking up the kids from school, my husband told me he had found a box on the front steps. Pointing to it on the floor, he asked me what it was. I was as clueless as he was . . . until I opened the box.

There lay a pair of black stilettos with three scriptures written on a piece of paper.

Look upon Zion, the city of our festivals; your eyes will see Jerusalem, a peaceful abode, a tent that will not be moved; its stakes will never be pulled up or any of its ropes broken. Isaiah 33:20

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. Exodus 14:13

You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the Lord will give you, O Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the LORD will be with you. 2 Chronicles 20:17

As I read the scriptures and saw the shoes, I started to cry. My husband, of course, was appropriately confused.

Though the shoes nor the scriptures carried any name of the giver, I figured out the messenger was the one I had texted earlier in the day asking for prayer. But without a doubt, I knew the message had been from the Lord. And I knew exactly what He was telling me. He had not forgotten; He had not changed His mind.

Seven months earlier, I had heard a timely message from a guest speaker (Michelle Davenport) at a women’s event at our church. She preached on the enemy’s plan to “devour minds, steal identities, kill dreams and ultimately destroy destinies.” Reminding us of our freedom through the work of the cross, she said, “We have been uniquely assigned by God for an eternal assignment.” Choosing life meant choosing to live free. Then she said something that would become pivotal for me in the coming months. “Sometimes,” she said, “You have to just stick your stilettos in the ground and say ‘I’m not moving from the place God has called me.’”

So when a pair of stilettos showed up on my doorstep seven months later, I knew what God was saying. Stand firm, hold your ground against the enemy, do not be moved.

In His awesomeness, God took the message of the shoes beyond my life when I had an opportunity to teach at a women’s retreat for our church the next weekend. I found out not only was it possible to walk in stilettos, but they make pretty good teaching shoes. Especially when you want to tromp all over the enemy’s territory.

Boring no more, my shoe rack now holds a prized message from the Lord in the form of three and a half inch heels. While these are my first pair, I don’t think they’ll be my last.

After all, there’s a lot of territory to take.

Every place on which the sole of your foot treads, I have given it to you, just as I spoke to Moses . . . No man will be able to stand before you all the days of your life. Just as I have been with Moses, I will be with you; I will not fail you or forsake you. Be strong and courageous, for you shall give this people possession of the land which I swore to their fathers to give them. Only be strong and very courageous; be careful to do according to all the law which Moses My servant commanded you; do not turn from it to the right or to the left, so that you may have success wherever you go. This book of the law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it . . . Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous! Do not tremble or be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go. Joshua 1:3, 5-9

Finding Gray

2009-03-07T22:41:00.001-05:00

I found seven gray hairs yesterday, and I saw at least three more hiding. I was minding my own business doing my hair, like I do any ordinary morning. Thinking I had a clump of hair wax in my head—don’t get me started on how bizarre it is to put wax in my hair—I reached up to remove the offending smear of white, only to find myself trailing a gray hair to the root. Unbelievable, I thought. My delusions of a freak occurrence were shaken as I removed gray hair number two. Later that day in carline, numbers three through seven made their untimely appearances as I examined my head in my visor mirror. Gray is now my reality.

Earlier in the day, I texted my sister to ask her if finding gray hairs made me wise, old or both. She responded by telling me she had one for every male in her home—a quiet total of three. When I found more than two, I knew there were problems with her theory. Later that day, she thought it funny to ask if I was sure I wasn’t the one who was older between the two of us. Touché. I told her it simply meant I was wiser.

For one fleeting moment, the thought of coloring my hair passed through my mind. I know plenty of women I consider to be godly and humble who color their hair. For me, though it’s not an option, at least not right now. When it comes to valuing the eternal, I have to ask myself if I need another thing to do that is only temporary. Besides, anyone who knows me knows when life gets busy my roots will end up showing. It’s too much work for too little return.

I’m not opposed to hair color. I enjoy watching the girls in my small group change hair color more often than I change my mind (which being a melancholy happens frequently). But the gray hairs vs. hair color debate in my mind has brought me to an interesting place once again. Two books later, I choose everyday to believe God’s standard of beauty trumps the world’s.

As women, we are growing old in a society that does not honor age. I know my body will continue to groan along with all of creation for redemption (Romans 8:22-23). But deep inside me, I want God’s healing in my life to be so sure that no matter what season of my life, my convictions about beauty are unshakeable.

Listen to Me, O house of Jacob, and all the remnant of the house of Israel, You who have been borne by Me from birth and have been carried from the womb; Even to your old age I will be the same, and even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; and I will bear you and I will deliver you. --Isaiah 46:3-4 (NASB)

Four Coffee Creamers

2009-02-16T22:06:00.000-05:00

When I awoke this Valentine's Day, little did I know the significance the four creamers in my fridge would have. Sure, I knew this Valentine's would be unlike any other. With a weekend full of ministry plans, a candlelight dinner was far from my mind. Anyone who knows my husband or me knows our commitment to marriage. Ministry and even children can become all too consuming, leaving marital collateral damage in the dust. So it wasn't from a lack of heart that roses weren't on the table this Valentine's Day. But coffee creamers? What in the world did they have to do with love?

The day started off busy. So busy, I don't even remember having a cup of coffee, much less what flavor creamer I used. The kids had breakfast, we wrapped a present for a birthday party Micah would attend, and I began preparations for our supper later that day. Scott had left earlier that morning, so not long after my mom came and picked up Micah for his party, Charis and I left to go "under the Bridge" for Project Love. February 14th was no longer about me.

Even the day before had been a little unconventional. Friday afternoon, I had turned down the card aisle at Walmart, only to see a line of people staring methodically at the display. When I picked up card after card that didn't seem to fit, I turned my cart toward the checkout without a card in hand. Scott and I had already decided spending time together was more important than a gift. Besides, a card seemed a little extra since we were spending our Friday evening at the church helping write more than 300 love letters. That night at least 30-40 young people gathered to peel potatoes, bag muffins, and make Valentine's letters for our church's homeless congregation that meets bi-weekly under the 15th street bridge in Augusta.

It was a new look at love.

The sky was misting and the wind was chilly when Charis and I arrived downtown that Saturday. Under the shelter of the bridge, we looked for ways to help, said hello to those we knew from our group, and met those who had far less than we had ever known. I felt the presence of the Lord even before we began. However, the day was not to be without at least one challenge. Amid the buzz of Bridge team members and young people setting up, I faced a serious dilemma. Having finished a large coke from Zaxby's, could I withstand the pressure in my bladder for another two hours or would I brave the port-o-potty standing ready? Two applications of hand-sanitizer later, I was feeling much more comfortable and ready for worship.

I was unprepared, though, for the two large bottles of coffee creamer--one french vanilla and one hazelnut--sitting on a table. As I watched individual after individual come and get a cup of hot coffee with flavored creamer, I wondered when they had last had a warm cup of coffee. When I remembered the four bottles of flavored creamer in the bottom of my fridge at home, I cried. In the simplicity of the moment, I realized how much I take for granted.

In years past, I might have been frustrated at missing out on having time alone with my husband on Valentine's Day. But this year, everything was different. I still would have liked some chocolates, but just because I really like chocolate. Not because I see them as proof of his love for me. I live in plenty, not only in terms of material provision, but in so many other things as well. I know I am loved . . . by my husband, by my children, but most of all by God. What greater gift could there be than a love that gave all? What greater privilege than to be His love to others? When the years and the boxes of chocolate run together, this Valentine's will be one I won't forget.

New

2009-01-14T22:07:00.000-05:00

There’s something beautiful about new beginnings. Recently I was reading in Revelation--not something I was doing on a whim; it was a part of our Bible reading plan for the year. While much of the book goes over my head, Revelation 21:5 reached my heart that day. It says, “And He who sits on the throne said, ‘Behold, I am making all things new.’ And He said, ‘Write, for these words are faithful and true.’”

All things new.

In all honesty 2008 has not been without its significant struggles. I think it’s one of those years I will look back as a definitive place in the Refiner’s fire. There are days I have no desire to relive because they were plain old difficult. But the goodness of God is that I can see specific things I believe the Lord allowed me to learn. In no way do I feel I’ve digested all the lessons and am ready to write a book about them—those places will still continue to teach in the years to come. But I am praying that 2008 was a year in which I looted the enemy (as Beth Moore talks about her book Breaking Free). What he set out as a snare, I pray became a starting block.

The overwhelming truth I have come to own is this: if I am experiencing hardship, God has seen fit to allow it because nothing is beyond His control. Getting angry at people has little benefit. Unfortunately, I still get angry, but at least now I recognize it’s an exercise in futility. If I am frustrated with something in my life, the bottom line is that no one has stepped on my toes without His permission. Notice I didn’t say blessing; I said permission. Those are two different things.

I’ve also learned there’s a monumental difference between feeling pain because I’ve fallen down the stairs and feeling pain because I’ve been walking rigorously around my neighborhood. One has happened because my feet have not been in the right place, the other because they have.

While 2009 has already revealed itself as a year of change, I am hopeful. God is indeed making all things new. I’m sure there will be more places of testing. There’s plenty of dross in me to keep the Refiner busy. Already, God has shown me a specific area in my life where I need Him to make new. Strangely enough, this past year has taught me to trust Him more. He has shown Himself faithful and true. In light of that truth, the past year takes on a whole new look.

*Thanks to my husband for his great work in designing the new website. He continues to amaze me with his willingness to take on any challenge. I love you, Scott!