The Race

Mid week. Gray here. Supposed to warm up to 78. Good. It’s summer after all. Been cold this week.

Monday I shared a little about the Coeur d’ Alene Ironman triathlon. Reminded me of my one official day of being an athlete! Thought I’d share—

My parents hugged me and my siblings patted me on the back. “Good luck, Gayle,” they said, then left to take their seats up in the bleachers. I couldn’t have asked for a more beautiful Saturday morning for my first and only track meet I would run in junior high. I diligently performed my warm up exercises, eagerly waiting for my race to be called—the 660. For weeks I had trained after school for this one race. Besides my family, many of my classmates were in attendance. I was proud to sport my red and gold school colors. I already had the red shorts, but my mom bought a package of Ritz Dye and dyed my T-shirt gold so it would look official.

My coach, a college sophomore, was so handsome and had been extremely supportive of me right from the start. With the race soon to begin, Brian now placed his arm firmly around my shoulder. He talked to me about good sportsmanship and doing my best and having fun. His final instruction was the same as he had given to me each day in practice: “Pace yourself, Gayle, this is a long race.”

“I will,” I nodded.

“Don’t forget,” Brian said again.

No way would I forget after hearing this every single day of practice for weeks. My race was then announced and so with those parting words, I quickly withdrew to the track, assuming my lane position among the other seventh grade girls.

The shot was fired and we were off. With unbridled enthusiasm, I bolted as if running the 50-yard dash. I instantly took the lead and ran even faster! But after about 150 yards, my pace slowed considerably. I’d spent all my energy in the first few seconds of the race.

My opponents began passing me one by one. With a third of the race still to run, the other girls started crossing the finish line. One gal had run close behind me but just quit and retreated from the track. I felt humiliated, totally stupid, and wanted to quit. I wanted to run and hide, not run around this track. But my pride and self respect demanded that I finish. I jogged the rest of the distance and finally crossed the finish line . . . alone and in last place.

On Monday morning in Home Room, one of the boys came up to me. “It’s too bad you lost, Gayle, you sure started out great!” I just shrugged my shoulders and said, “Thanks.”

But had I really started out great? No, not at all! This was a distance race, a race of endurance—not a sprint. I wasn’t a fast runner and I hadn’t expected to win. What I upset me was that in my adrenaline rush I had forgotten the most important thing Brian had taught me, the very thing I was just so positive I would not forget.

Pace yourself.

Running circles around the back field of my junior high play ground had been necessary practice. Still, it could not prepare me for the pressure and excitement of an official track meet with friends and family watching. Brian knew this. That’s why he reminded me over and over of the one thing he suspected I would forget.

Similarly, it’s possible to allow our zeal in serving Christ cause us to forget His instruction in the everyday experiences of life. Some circumstances may become so familiar that when the Lord “puts His arm around our shoulder” and gives us last minute counsel concerning a matter, we may dismiss Him saying, “I know, I know.” Yet if the God of the Universe thinks we need to be reminded of something, we best listen to Him as intently as if He had never told it to us before.

The Holy Spirit is our “coach” and He’s cheering us on. He wants us to finish life well and is always close by, shouting out pearls of wisdom from the sideline. We forget so easily, though, and must constantly ask Him to remind us of His precepts. Otherwise in the midst of the race, we may find ourselves lagging far behind—long before the task in which He’s called us to is completed.

“I think the one lesson I have learned is that there is no substitute for paying attention.” —Diane Sawyer

Listen to my instruction and be wise; do not ignore it. (Proverbs 8:33)

Coeur d' Alene's Ironman

Did y’all have a good weekend?

Coeur d’ Alene hosted the Ironman triathlon yesterday. I decided not to enter this year. Or last. Truth is, I never will enter it. I can’t even comprehend swimming 2.4 miles, then jumping out of the water to hop onto your bike to cycle 112 miles and then, when most folks would be flat out dead, run a full marathon of 26.2 miles. Ironman (woman) is right! Unbelievable!

1,760 triathletes from around the world competed right here in my own backyard. Winners’ times were 8:23:29 (men) and 9:59:08 (women). In honor of them, so I could call myself an athlete, too, I rode my bike about 11 miles yesterday afternoon. Now that was a nice bit of exercise. Felt great. For the Ironman athletes, however, that would be like a stroll from the kitchen to the living room! I do plan on riding much farther than that most rides this summer.

I can’t even comprehend such strength, endurance and perseverance such a competition requires. If they are willing to make the necessary monumental daily sacrifices to train as they do for a prize that is only temporary and of no eternal value (though something certainly to be proud of), how much more should I, as a Christian, run my spiritual race with endurance? My prize is the crown of life. Heaven. Spending eternity with Christ Himself!

What I love about God, though, is He’s not asking me to do this in my own strength. Knows I can’t. Nobody can win this metaphorical race without the wind of the Holy Spirit at our backs. God through Christ gives me the strength to run the race set for me each day. My race is not the same as yours. We’re each on a different course. My goal is not to beat your time. Or accomplish what you accomplish. I am to be obedient to what God has called me to do. Scripture tells me that I am God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for me to do. That is so cool to me. Gives me purpose. Gives me a reason to run.

Today’s the beginning of a new week. An opportunity to trust God in a new and deeper way. A fresh start. I want to run my course with endurance. Walk in God’s grace. Breathe it in moment by moment.

It’s raining outside. How gracious of God to give the triathletes a beautiful day yesterday to compete. Today it would have been more difficult.

Have a good day all.

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing. (2 Timothy 4:6-8)

All Supplies Included

Almost the weekend. Think I’ll do a little cycling. It’s been light past 9 p.m. I’m growing accustomed to taking nice walks just as the sun begins to set. I love summer. Terri and Allison, thanks so much for leaving your comments. I love knowing that I’m not alone out in cyberspace here. And my sweet friend, Patsy. Thanks so much for your private note. So great to hear from you.

As a kid, I enjoyed painting Paint-By-Numbers, although I generally didn’t do anything with them once I finished. Just thought painting them was about as close to being an artist that I’d ever get. My dad once painted a set of Mary and Joseph, and gave the framed set to his parents one Christmas. That same year, I think, I decided to paint one for my other grandma (my mom’s mom) of this winter scene. She hung it in her bedroom for years. I didn’t think it turned out that great but you know grandmas. And mine was the best. If her granddaughter decided to paint her a picture, far as she was concerned, it was worthy of a place of prominence.

My favorite part of painting was the first hour. I’d slip the white crisp canvas from the box and study it. Which color should I start with first? I’d stare back at the canvas and make my decision. Immediately I’d grow anxious. There just can’t be enough paint in those little tubs to paint all those parts, I’d tell my dad. I’m going to run out for sure. I just know it.

There’s enough paint, Gayle, he’d say.

Now there was one way I could run out and this happened more than once. I’d become too eager and continue painting after I should have stopped to allow the canvas to dry. Then I’d accidentally rest the side of my palm on the canvas and instantly smear what I’d just painted.
Drat. That’s why my dad would always remind me to begin in the center of the canvas. Then the risk of inadvertently resting my hand on wet paint was minimized—at least in theory.

Now I’d have to paint this part over. Surely, I won’t have enough paint now. I’d start to try and fix it right then. My parents would step in and say, “Put it away now.” They’d recognize my frustration escalating and knew if I continued then, surely I’d ruin the thing entirely. Better to start fresh the next day. Just so hard to leave a project when it’s looking its worst, I think.

I’m no Rembrandt so I really wasn’t striving for perfection when I painted these pictures. Still, I thought it a reasonable goal that my painting would resemble the cover on the box. Usually they turned out okay, though never as good as I wanted them to. With the one I painted for my grandma, I did in fact run out of the brown paint when I came to this one last branch. I’d messed up pretty bad. So, instead of a light dusting of snow on top, I had to paint the entire branch white. It looked funny and bugged me every time I visited her. But I tried to remember I was only around 12 or so. What should I expect? I’m glad she hung it. My grandma always made me feel treasured.

In Peter’s second epistle, he writes:

Grace and peace be multiplied to you in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord, as His divine power has given to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of Him who called us by glory and virtue, by which have been given to us exceedingly great and precious promises, that through these you may be partakers of the divine nature, having escaped the corruption that is in the world through lust. (2 Peter 1:3,4)

The manufacturer of the paint by numbers supplied just enough paint barring any catastrophes. So unlike God. Through Jesus Christ, God’s grace flows abundantly and He so willingly and joyfully supplies us with all we need for every area of my life.

Not a day goes by that I don’t “feel” like my “tub of paint will run out.” Sometimes I look at my resources and I think it “has run out.” Just like when I tried to paint the brown branch and had to improvise with white because no brown was left. I did run out.

As a Christian, God wants me thinking about His supply, though, not mine. He doesn’t even want me to rely on my tub of paint. He knows it’s pitifully small and the colors are dull. Won’t find much kindness, patience, love, good will in my tub of paint. Ah, but when I use His paints—His resources—there is ample.

When I am weak, He is strong.

“Grace and peace be multiplied to you.” Now I like the sound of that. God doesn’t just give me a little of His grace and peace. He multiplies it! Everything I need to live this day in a matter that will be God honouring and filled with peace and joy and gratitude are found in Him. And this has nothing to do with circumstances. It’s what’s happening on the inside of my heart that I’m talking about here. Not the outside.

Okay, I think I’ve stumbled on to an analogy with this paint by number thing that I could play around with all day. Suddenly so many Bible stories and verses come to mind. But I must get to work so I’m stopping here.

Take good care everybody and see you back on Monday.

Heritage

How y’all doing out there?

Several years ago, I received an email from my father’s cousin, my second cousin. He’d been researching extensively the DeSalles Family genealogy and.wrote to tell me:

“I am the 37th great granddaughter of Charlemagne (Charles I), King of France, born April 2, 742, and succeeded his father in 768. On Christmas day 800 he was proclaimed emperor of the Romans and the successor of Caesar Augustus and Constantine by Pope Leo III. He died January 28, 814. Between my 24th great grandfather Sancho I, King of Portugal, and Charlemagne, I have 12 more great grandfathers who were kings. I can now claim that I’m a descendent from royalty.”

This sounded impressive and I got excited. But at the time I received this I was studying 1 Samuel, and the lives of Saul and David. Suddenly I was curious. Was Charles, King of France a good king or a wicked king? I know now he was in fact a very good king but at the time I decided I’d better not boast about my heritage until I learn whether he was a reputable king or not.

And this got me thinking. I like the feeling of being related to “royalty.” Something so, well, regal, about tracing my heritage back to a king, and all the way back to 768. Somehow, it just made me day. Ah, but then this verse came to mind.

“But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy.” (1 Peter 2:9-10)

Now this is a heritage I will boast in. And I thought it was cool to discover that I was related to a bonafide king. Fact is, though, absolutely nothing compares with the extraordinary privilege and honor—not to mention the actual revelation itself—of knowing that while I did absolutely nothing to make this happen, I have been adopted into the family of God through Jesus Christ. Thank you, Jesus.

It’s by reading and studying through the Old Testament that I am able to begin to understand New Testament concepts better such as “chosen people” and “royal priesthood.”

Yes, I’ll admit it. I was fascinated to learn that as part of my heritage I was the 37th granddaughter of a mighty fine king. But really, does it matter? After all, Scripture teaches that through Christ, I have been grafted into the family of God. I already am a daughter of a King — not even a granddaughter. A daughter.

Reminds me of a poem I wrote oh a good 30 years ago:

AWARENESS

I didn’t even know
it was pain that I was feeling
until You comforted me.

And I didn’t realize
the encouragement I needed
until You told me I was special.

I wasn’t aware
I had so much to offer
until You told me I was the daughter of a King,

And I never understood
the loneliness I felt,
until You said You’d be my Friend.

©1974 Gayle DeSalles

Quarters and Grace

Happy Monday. Well it rained so hard on Friday night, I decided not to go to the parade. Saturday offered up a few hours of sunshine so I did head down to look at the old classic cars. They really are cool. With all the people, it was quite amazing and quite a gift from God that I ran into a good friend of mine whose family splits their time between here and California and hung with them for an hour or so.

Gorgeous day today. Supposed to hit 86 degrees. That’s definitely on the warm side. Summer begins officially tomorrow but decided to show up today. I’m so ready. As I was thinking of warm summer days, this picture came into view.

I’m attending a summer wedding. The church hot, the air stuffy. I feel a bit ashamed to admit it, but I’m bored. The church is large and the service long. I want the wedding to be over so I can get some fresh air. Of course, I’m mindful that this is a wedding, the most exciting day of this couple’s lives. I wish them well. I really do. But they’re not friends. More acquaintances. I don’t remember why I chose to go in the first place.

I glance over to my right and my attention is suddenly delightfully diverted by the exchange between my friend and his three-year-old-son sitting on his lap. While the bride and groom recite their vows, Aaron squirms in his daddy's lap. Attempting to entertain his young son who is not misbehaving, but painfully bored just like me, Kelley pulls a quarter from his pocket. Then taking a pencil from the pew in front of him, draws around the quarter and hands Aaron the pencil to color in the circle.

Aaron vigorously colors the best he can, trying to stay inside the lines. But when finished, it seems he has scribbled as much on the outside of the circle as the inside. I know, it’s rather pathetic if I’m finding this more entertaining than the reason for this gathering, but frankly, I'm really hot and really bored. I keep watching. Now that Aaron’s finished, Kelley takes the pencil from his son’s hand and with the eraser, begins erasing the outside of the quarter. Kelley flicks away the eraser shavings and Aaron’s drawing now looks perfect. Colored within the lines. No mistakes.

I’m not looking for any epiphany here but God decides to give me one any way. Kelley has no idea I’m even watching him, and he certainly can't know (nor me, for that matter) that in that moment God would teach me a lesson that would stick with me for the next 25 years—a lesson about grace. There seated next to Kelly, unknown to him, God ever so quietly whispered in my heart:

That's what I do with you every day, Gayle. I set before you a challenge or an opportunity to serve me. You try your best to obey, to accomplish what you think I want. You try so hard to do your best and “color inside the lines." But you’re only “three." Though you’re clearly an adult woman, in My eyes, you’re just a snotty-nosed little kid that I love dearly. No matter how hard you try, you just can’t color inside the lines. You make mistakes. You need my help. You need my cleansing. You need my forgiveness. You need Me for everything.

And so I come along and take My eraser—that is My grace—and erase the outside of the circle, that is your mistakes, your sins, your failures. I love it when you ask me to. But even if you don’t, chances are, I’ll do it anyway. Aaron didn’t ask his father to erase the outside the circle. In fact, he wasn't even cognizant that it wasn’t just right. But Kelley knew. And I always know.

What a kind, loving, gracious God I serve. God drove home His point. “Just as you see Aaron's messy coloring transformed into a perfectly colored circle because of his dad's gentle touch, so your life will be marked by My grace, Gayle. And the world will see in you a life filled with joy and contentment because of Me. Then will I be glorified."

Is it any wonder that I have not forgotten this sweet lesson all these years later?

Blessings all.

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this not from yourselves, it is the gift of God—not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do. (Ephesians 2:8-10)

Reminicing

Friday again. Oh boy. A rainy day here. May last all day. Summer has been a little slow in coming, though it does have until Tuesday to officially get its act together. I hope the weather clears up later.

This Father’s Day weekend marks the 15th annual “Car d’ Alene Classic Car Show" here in Coeur d’ Alene. Perfect for the ultimate car enthusiast except you don’t have even have to be one to enjoy yourself. I went last year for the first time and had a terrific time. Tonight if it’s not raining, I’ll head downtown to watch over 600 cars, ’78 and older’, cruise downtown. Tomorrow, the cars will be lined up along the street and can be viewed at your leisure. All the while, vintage 50’s and 60’s tunes will be blaring from loud speakers. Last year, I believe it was in the 80’s. Hot! I so hope the sun comes out.

As an avid people watcher, I’m in my element. And what a day for stories. Men and women, now in their 70’s reminisce when they first got such a car, or maybe children speak of when their parents or grandparents did. I love eaves dropping, without appearing conspicuous, straining to hear the stories family members and friends share with one another about these cars and the memories they evoke. How often will I hear on such a day, “Wow, I haven’t thought about that in 30 years.”

Happened to me last year. I’m strolling along and land in front of one gorgeous ’68 red Ford Mustang. I thought that car was cool back then. Or maybe it was “cherry”? Or was it “boss”? Suddenly I’m whisked back to the 7th grade at El Dorado Elementary in Concord, California. Okay, so, I would have preferred another memory since junior high was not my favorite time of life, but you get the point.

I welcome any opportunity to remind me of God’s faithfulness. It’s become a habit for me. A deliberate choice. Everywhere I go, I say, “God show Yourself in your creation right now, show Yourself through the ridiculously simple. I don’t care a bit of someone would think what’s making me smile at this moment is stupid.” On God’s quietest day, He loves to answer such prayers, I’m totally convinced.

For example, there’s this wonderful “penny” candy store on Sherman Avenue in downtown Coeur d’ Alene. As you step inside, you’re greeted with an entire store filled with apple barrels of various candies, many reminiscent of decades ago and no longer available in grocery stores. A couple of weeks ago I’d taken an out-of-town guest there. My eyes fell on a barrel of miniature “Big Hunks.” I bet I hadn’t had a “Big Hunk” in 30 years! Maybe longer! The taffy is not too hot on the teeth, but I figured one piece wouldn’t hurt. As I chewed my mini Big Hunt, I reflected on trips to the local dime store when my family used to visit my grandma in San Francisco. A delightful memory. I thanked God for my grandma, who long ago went Home.

As I view all the classic cars this weekend and the sounds of “Surfing USA” or “Duke of Earl,” blaring from the speakers, I’ll definitely be in the middle of this moment, enjoying this day God has created. But on a whole other level, I’ll be thinking back as well. Maybe it won’t even be some classic car that triggers the memory. Maybe it will simply be a child slurping on a snow cone or watch her plaster her face with cotton candy. Maybe it will be observing some elderly couple shuffling down the street. The husband stops, points to the car and turns to his wife, with a twinkle in his eye, “Remember, Honey. . . “ She blushes and clasps his hand.

Remembering God’s past faithfulness to me will always cause me to trust Him for the future. As What’s most amazing to me—well, everything is most amazing to me about God—is that even during the many years I didn’t know Him so I couldn’t trust Him, He was looking out for me. Even during the years when any thought of God seldom entered my mind except for church on Sundays, I was always on His mind. God from the foundation of the earth was paving the way for the time that I would eventually come to know Him and love Him as I do today.

Have a great weekend! We really do need the rain here, but I wish God would reschedule it until Monday. J

You guided my conception and formed me in the womb. You clothed me with skin and flesh, and you knit my bones and sinews together. You gave me life and showed me your unfailing love. My life was preserved by your care. (Job 10:10-12, NLT)

Pass the Peas, Please

Wednesday already. Summer will soon be officially here!

Maybe it’s my mood or maybe I just feel like offering up something on the lighter side today. In any case, I was thinking about our call as Christians to love unconditionally and how hard that can be sometimes.

Yet, I think that life could be considerably brighter if folks made it a point to simply be polite. Forget laying down your life for someone (well, don’t forget it if the occasion arises), but don’t you think that just saying “hello,” “please and thank you” and “excuse me," could go a long way in easing the stress and strain of someone’s life in the course of a day? I sure notice it when someone’s courteous to me. Or not. I feel a little more honored when someone slows down at the crosswalk as I approach instead of racing through before they technically “have to.” Or when someone yields a parking spot to me if we arrive at the same time, though she could have taken it. Such simple expressions mean so much. This common grocery store exchange has been such an opportunity for me:

“Will this be debit or credit?” “Credit, thank you.”

Would you like some help out with this?” “No, but thanks for asking.”

No major sacrifice here but it feels like the right thing to do, and it makes me feel good. On days that seem especially hard or unfair, when I don’t feel like I have a lot to give, I derive great pleasure from being extra polite. I suppose that sounds silly, but it’s true. I guess because it helps take the focus off of me and it recognizes someone else. And it generally yields an immediate payoff of someone’s smile. And, it just wasn’t that hard.

In light of these thoughts, I will close by sharing some of my favorite manner rhymes from a most delightful children’s book entitled, Pass the Peas, Please: A Book of Manners. (Dina Anastasio and Katy Rock Arnsteen and RGA Pub. Group, New York ©1988)

If you’re angry at a friend,
Don’t punch or kick or shout.
Go for a walk and count to ten.
Then try to work it out.

It’s hard to keep a secret,
But secret telling’s wrong.
Remember, friends who blab too much
Aren’t friends for very long.

If your neighbor won’t stop talking
And you feel a yawn come on,
Put your mouth behind your fingers,
Until your yawn is gone.

When you’re outside playing soccer,
And kick someone in the knee,
Don’t tell him that he’s in your way,
Say, “Sorry. Pardon me.”

When you see someone who’s different,
Don’t laugh. It isn’t fair.
He might think you are different,
But he doesn’t point and stare.”

When your sister gets a bicycle
and you just get a kite,
Don’t say, “You like her better!”
Say, “Thank you. It’s just right.”

If a friend is having trouble,
And he falls and gives a yelp,
Don’t laugh or point or call him names,
Say, “Are you hurt?” and “May I help?”

No one likes to lose a game,
But if you must, you must.
So if you lose, shake hands and say,
“We’ll play again, I trust.”

When you’re going to a movie,
And the line is two blocks long,
Don’t butt in front. Go to the end.
Then calmly hum a song.

Okay, that’s enough for now. Aren't these great? I think I could write a few of my own.

Blessings all today!

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. (Ephesians 4:32)

Believing God

Monday so soon? Hope y’all had a terrific weekend.

Tonight is the last class in my "Believing God" Bible study by Beth Moore.* What a terrific study it has been.

From the first day, Beth offered a five-statement pledge of faith that became the framework for our commitment to learning to believe God more than we ever had before:

God is who He says He is.
God can do what He says He can do.
I am who God says I am.
I can do all things through Christ.
God’s Word is alive and active in me.

When we studied the third statement, “I am who God says I am,” she reminded us of six glorious facts from Ephesians 1:

I am blessed. (v. 3)
I am chosen. (v. 4)
I am adopted. (v. 5)
I am accepted. (v. 6)
I am redeemed. (v. 7)
I am forgiven. (v. 7)

And at the center of all these incomprehensible and glorious truths is the fact that we are loved by God.

This study is so rich and there were weeks I couldn’t invest the time in the homework as I wanted. There were some chapters that to benefit fully required much thinking, praying, and writing. Now this is definitely up my alley so I’ll be returning to this study throughout the summer, camping on those sections where I glossed over the first time.

In this final lesson, Beth said something that resonated with me deeply in light of the events in my life over the last couple of years. She wrote:

“One of my new mottoes has become: if I err, let me err on the side of belief. God looks on the heart. I’d rather Him see misguided actions from a believing heart than safe-and-sound actions from an unbelieving heart.” (pg. 203)

A couple of paragraphs later, Beth writes—and this is the part that really got to me:

“One of the inevitable questions each person challenged to believe God has to answer is whether she is willing to risk being wrong….One positive result of past failure is that you surrender the pursuit of perfection and, if you’ve gained any sense, replace it with the pursuit of God’s redemption. Nothing is more redemptive than faith in God. You learn that failure may be painful, but it’s rarely fatal. After coming to grips with the high premium God places on our faith, I refuse to give up a life practice of believing God just because I accidentally swerve off the road a few times in my faith journey. Hebrews 11:6 says that faith pleases God, not perfection." (pg. 204, italics mine).

This is ministering to me even now as I am making it my life pursuit to believe God is who He says He is. I began praying several years about returning to the Northwest before actually leaving Nashville. In fact, I prayed seriously for two, and from the time I first announced it to a couple of close friends, it was still another seven months before I actually packed up and moved.

I had His blessing then and I have His blessing now. There have been some aspects of this transition that are proving to be considerably more difficult than I’d anticipated. Was I short sighted not to consider these obstacles? Not at all. I’d considered them and prayed through them. Did I think they’d be this difficult, though? Absolutely not. I couldn’t have known. If I’d known beforehand, would I have had the courage to move? Honestly, I don’t know. I’d like to think so. Especially considering everything I know about God. These trials are custom crafted and allowed to grow me into the woman God wants me to be. God’s good plans for me are different from His good plans for you. He loves us all the same. Perfectly.

But here’s the coolest part. I did move and I am here and I have the peace of God flowing through every ounce of my being. I’m believing God the best I know how and this is what makes Him smile. Faith in Him makes God smile. And I have to say, making the God of the Universe smile is an extraordinary thing to be able to do. Compared to Him, I am so tiny, He could squish me as an ant. Instead, He delights in me just because I want to believe Him. He’s not smiling because I’m doing everything right. Boy, am I glad of that!

Elizabeth Eliot is quoted frequently for her simple exhortation when in the throws of a difficult trial or overwhelming day: “Do the next thing.”

Sometimes we can feel stuck as a title wave of overwhelmingness washes over us. (Is that a word?). We can become paralyzed, thinking what do I do? What you do is simple. You do the next thing. Change the baby’s diaper, make the kids lunch, kiss your husband or wife good bye, fold the clothes, drive to work, mow the lawn, take out the trash, whatever it is, there is always the next thing. I’m comforted by this. I can do the next thing. For me, that is uploading this blog.

Blessings all today and may this be an absolutely terrific Monday. I’ve already decided it’s going to be a great day.

For this reason I kneel before the Father, from whom his whole family in heaven and on earth derives its name. 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. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the saints, 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. (Ephesians 3:14-19 NIV)

*Believing God by Beth Moore. LifeWay Press, One Life-Way Plaza, Nashville, TN 37234-0175. ©2002

What's New?

Friday already? Hey, I’ll take it. Allison, Terri, thanks for your encouraging comments. I love hearing from those of you reading. Please don’t be shy.

Well, here it is, seven days since writing last Friday about my particularly hard week. I shared with you Monday and Wednesday how God has ministered to me through His Word, through my times of prayer, and tremendously through friends both near and far.

Have circumstances changed since last Friday? That is for the better? Not at all. Actually, circumstances have heated up a little more in the last week, not less. But this doesn’t surprise me. Scripture lists many examples of life becoming more difficult not less, right before God does something big. For those of you who are not familiar with the story and even those of you who are, read Exodus 3-12. It’s a great read and replete with encouragement. I bet a week hasn’t gone by in months where I haven’t thought of some component of this story at least once.

Given that my circumstances haven’t changed, you might think I was asked, “What’s new?” I might say “Nothing.” or “Not much.”

Not so.

When asked this questions in good times, but especially in hard times, generally I’ll answer “Lots!” Some people get this surprised look on their faces, expecting I’m going to tell them about some new job, beau, upcoming vacation—something exciting. Sometimes I’ll qualify my answer, sometimes not. Depends if I’m asked.

Yes, “lots” has happened this week, but all on the inside of me. If you’ve been reading my blog, you knew by Monday’s entry I was already in a different place emotionally and spiritually than I had been only three days before. And today I’m yet in a different place than I was on Wednesday.

Yesterday a friend called to share some news with me. I listened intently. After she’d finished, she asked, “How are you?” Without a second's thought, I launched into what the Lord was teaching me about Himself. I knew I felt passionate about all I shared but didn’t realize how much so until I finally stopped talking long enough to take a breath. She’s a good listener, plus she knew my whole purpose in sharing was not so much to talk about “the problem” but to brag on God for all He was teaching me.
We ended that phone call, praying for one another, thanking God for His faithfulness, and asking Him to work out each of our concerns. Sweetest hour of my day. Another gift from God.

You may have heard the expression, “What doesn’t kill you will make you grow.” Well, God certainly isn’t trying to kill His children, and so whatever He allows in our lives will not kill us but is designed to make us grow. But it doesn’t just stop there. God’s ultimate goal is not simply that I “grow” but that I grow in love for my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. The better I know Christ—and fact is, the most “efficient” way this happens is through trials—the more I will become like Him. And the more I become like Him, the more I will reflect His character. Others will see Christ in me (the goal) by the way I treat them. “They’ll know we are Christians by our love” I used to sing back in my high school youth group.

To say I’m not even close to where I want to be in respect to loving others is to state the obvious, but this is my desire.

Now I will not be disappointed when this trial is over. No way. If I can balance a megaphone in one hand while steering my bicycle, I’ll probably ride through the streets of Coeur d’ Alene, Idaho shouting, “It’s over, it’s over, yippee, hooray, the trial’s over. Praise the Lord!” But until that happens, whether today or some time from now, I don’t want to miss a single one of God’s purposes and blessings in the middle of it. This is not about me. It’s about God. Have you heard that? It’s true.

A final thought. Many of you may have been told over the years when facing a difficult crisis, “Wow, God must really have some special, important, big lesson to teach you.” I don’t know about you, but I’ve found such a statement hurtful, even insulting at times. Of course, God always wants to teach us, I’ve just said as much, but this is not the only reason for trials. The primary purpose of a trial is that God is glorified. He shows Himself off best when we’re the weakest.

Just as a jeweler will showcase a fine diamond on a black velvet background, God showcases Who He Is best against the backdrop of our weakness in various difficulties. When we are weak, God wants to show Himself strong. I know God is using my trial presently to encourage others in their walk with the Lord, some facing far more difficult trials than I. But see, this is not a contest—who has the worst trial.

We all have different thresholds for what we can handle based on a variety of factors, some which may be clear to us and those who love us, some known only to God. He absolutely will not give us more than we can handle and His grace is sufficient for whatever that trial is. Again, God wants to glorify Himself. He wants the world to see how real and big and wonderfully powerful He is in His strength and His love and His provision for those He created. I’ll never get it, but He loves to show His power through us through mere mortals.

So, if you’re facing some hard trial today, don’t think if you’ll just figure out this one lesson to be learned and then learn it well, the trial will end and you’ll advance to the next level. This is not some TV game show. This is my life, this is your life, and God doesn’t toy with our lives. He loves us. There is no “magic bullet” out of a trial. There is God’s grace and mercy and kindness and purpose through it all, though. “Just give me Jesus.” That’s what I want most of all.

Have a great weekend and I'll see y’all back on Monday.

“Now this is eternal life: that they may know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent.” (John 17:3 NIV)

Never Defeated

“I don't know all of those who are reading this, nor do you know me. But God knows each of our hearts intimately and I will be praying He whispers words of comfort to each of you in your struggles. Hold tight to Jesus and He will hold tight to you. He promised.” – ‘A’

Thank you for your encouraging words to us all. While “A” chooses to be incognito, she is my sweet writer friend from across country. Kjersten, buddy, hang in there. I know your life is so hard right now. I am so grateful you know Christ as you do. God is mindful of your sorrows and puts your tears in a bottle. That bottle is precious to Him.

Michelle, don’t know why the comment you posted “disappeared” before I had a chance to read it. Thanks for sharing your heart with me personally Monday night. To the rest of you who have sent comments to me privately over the last few days, thank you so much. God has been so gracious to me in so many ways even since Friday. Circumstances haven’t changed but He’s settled down my heart the way only He can do. I am awed and humbled by His kindness to me.

Only God could have orchestrated the circumstances in my life presently, and the lessons He’s been teaching me, to coincide with my Monday night Bible study—BELIEVING GOD by Beth Moore. How I’ve needed the sweet fellowship that transpires when women choose to study the Word together. I know you men have your own version, praise God. In light of what I shared in last Friday’s blog and God’s gracious TLC to me throughout the weekend, I want to share that His comfort seemed to culminate through the gathering of our study group on Monday. Or so I thought it had, until I just returned from breakfast with another Christian writing friend here in town. We talked and talked about God’s faithfulness to each of us and all He was doing in our lives.

Monday night, transitioning from a time of discussion to listening to Beth’s message, we had our usual brief time of prayer. So many ladies were struggling though, we prayed a little longer than time would normally allow. We each sensed God was doing something special and we didn’t want to miss it. How that time of prayer prepared our hearts, my heart perhaps most of all, to receive what God had to teach us. While the whole message seemed to be one of those designed “just for me,” there’s one simple but powerful point Beth made that struck me deeply:

God never gives Satan permission to defeat us.

I know that we who are in Christ are to live victoriously. Not because we “should," but because we are victorious if we have in fact put our faith in Jesus Christ. We just need to walk in this. I understand that if I put on the full armor of God, I will be able to defeat all the fiery darts of the enemy. Not by myself—never by myself—but by the power of the Holy Spirit in me. I also know that God does not tempt anyone but may at times allow the enemy to tempt us to strengthen our faith and test our hearts. These are familiar truths to me that I am ever mindful of.

And yet, I’m not sure it’s ever soaked in to the core of my being that while Satan may have permission to test me, even sift me as wheat, he never, EVER has permission to defeat me. Ever. So if I’m feeling defeated, if I’ve been defeated (as I was feeling a bit on Friday), there’s a breakdown between me and God. And if I look hard enough, chances are, I’ll discover this sense of defeat is rooted in unbelief. I can shout from the mountain tops all day long that I do, too, believe God and all He says, but if I’m walking in defeat—in fear, insecurity, hopelessness, etc, I’ve forgotten something about His character, something about His love and good plans for me. Defeat is never God’s will for me. Let me say it again. God never gives Satan permission to defeat us.

Is it any wonder God keeps talking to me 24/7 these days about believing Him, not just believing in Him?

I can’t pinpoint a specific moment when things started to change for me since Friday. I know that even by the time I finished my blog, the heaviness had lifted some. Because during my writing of it, I was remembering God’s faithfulness, though I wasn’t feeling exactly chipper. Then I wrote those verses out at the end and gained greater strength.

Walking in truth is a choice. Walking in joy is a choice. Praising God, even if we don’t feel like it is a choice. God is always worthy of our praise because of Who He Is. He has no problem with us running to Him and pouring out our hearts about the circumstances that are scaring us to death and breaking our hearts. In fact, He welcomes it! All He asks from us is that we believe He is Who He says He is in the middle of the crisis.

I know that I must fight for what God has shown me lately. I must guard this wisdom He’s given me as a treasured possession. Most of us are not fighting physical enemies as the Israelites did in Old Testament days, but we are fighting formidable enemies just the same. Whatever may be robbing you today of your joy, your peace, your security, your hope, this is your formidable enemy. Remember, God is bigger and He wants to give you and me victory. Sometimes you just have to fight for it harder than others.

For me, this is one of those times. I already see evidence in my life that it’s gonna be so worth it when this season of testing is over. Yep, I’m seeing good things happening already!

Blessings all!

Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. (Ephesians 6:14)

Refreshed

Monday morning and I’m feeling refreshed. I spent a lot of time with the Lord in prayer and reading His Word this weekend. Receiving His comfort. I felt God’s tender care. He spoke to me in my heart—said He knew I was tired. He didn’t explain everything to me, and I didn’t need that anyway. What I did need was His assurance that all was okay even though it didn’t feel okay.

He did that. You might say God “kissed my heart.”

I spent a lot of time resting. Didn’t do any work. I made my bed, did a few dishes, but that’s all. I finished one novel and started another. Went to a movie yesterday. Took a nice walk last evening, rode my bike through the neighborhood on Saturday. Throughout the weekend, dear friends reminded me they were praying for me. One dear friend called from across county Friday night, though she was leaving on a mission trip early the next morning and still had much to do. We hadn’t talked for a couple of months and she wanted to touch base before she left. Out of all the days for her to call me! I told her how much it meant. A gift from my friend, a gift from God.

I’m learning a whole new level of trust. It’s not like it started yesterday, it’s just that it keeps going deeper and deeper. I’m learning to simply believe God. Take all He says at face value. I thought I was doing that before. And I was in some ways. But there’s always more. Being a Christian is about having a relationship with Jesus Christ, not a “religion.” And what dear relationship doesn’t grow sweeter and sweeter as the days and years go by? That’s what’s happening now. Just like a hard trial shared between husband and wife, or close friends can bind the two together, so these trials are causing me to draw closer to Christ. That's just the way it works.

This weekend God spent a lot of time encouraging me in a lot of different ways. Circumstances haven’t changed but I have. And I have reason to suspect even my circumstances may change soon, but now it doesn’t matter as much. When I really get a glimpse that the God of the Universe loves me just because He does and there’s nothing I can do to change that, it sure makes me a little more secure.

Thinking about taking God at face value, I’ll close with this ridiculously simple illustration that God has gotten quite a lot of mileage out of lately:

A friend across town shoots me a quick email a couple of weeks ago mid-morning.

“Lunch?” (She’s a woman of few words sometimes).

“Sure,” I write back. “What time and where?”

“Olive Garden. 11:30.”

“Okay, see you there.”

I arrive at 11:30 and she’s seated sipping her coke. I expected her to be there. She said she would be. And for some reason if she didn’t show up, I wouldn’t be angry. I’d be concerned. I trust her because she has a proven track record that she’s a woman of her word.

So is God. I want to believe God the same way. About all things. Yes, it’s a process. And it takes some time. But I’m discovering something. The higher the stakes, the greater the potential for victory.

Honestly, folks, I don’t know how God does this. But somehow, some way, my heart is strengthened going into this week. All I can say is the comfort of Jesus Christ is a very real thing. Trust me.

Finally, to the one who posted a comment on Friday—you sound like you’re facing some pretty heavy trials right now. Please feel free to email me privately. I’ll love to hear from you.

He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the LORD
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
(Isaiah 41:29-31)

A Hard Week

Happy Friday. I’m ready for the weekend.

This has been a very difficult week for me emotionally and spiritually. If I knew each of you personally who were reading this, I might tell you some of the reasons why. None of them are earth shattering. But roll them all together and throw in a couple of variables that makes it even harder right now, and I find them overwhelming. Today my circumstances don’t feel manageable at all. This trial is too big for me.

Maybe, you too, are in a similar season. As for me, I know more than ever, I must walk in Truth. I know I say that a lot. If you’re getting tired of hearing this, you probably don’t want to be reading my blog. Because here’s the deal. I suspect this trial ain’t gonna end any time soon nor the co-trials associated with it. It’ just a season of refining for me. That’s all.

I don’t mean, that’s all, like in, no big deal. It’s a very big deal. What I mean is, what’s happening is not complicated. It’s hard and scary and not much fun, but there’s nothing “unique” about it. If I listed what is troubling me right now, chances are you would say the same of either yourself or a loved one. You know it hurts because you’re in the same place! Or if not exactly the same place, similar enough that you can relate.

So, the point of writing this is not to complain that this is a hard time. And that it may stay hard for awhile. Rather, my goal is to encourage you, remind you that God is purposeful. His goal is to mature me not ruin my life. He knows how much I can take. I am positive that He and I don’t agree on what is “too much,” but I know that He is a better judge than I. Any time I felt like truly, enough was enough and I couldn’t handle any more, He did change the circumstances. So maybe I’m wrong. Maybe today is the day that God ends the trial.

I would really like that.

With my emotions all over the map, there is one thing I have purposed in my heart. I absolutely will not insult my precious Lord by making childish and insulting remarks to Him like “If You loved me, You would take away this hard time.” Or, You must not love me as much as You say, because I have asked you a hundred times to change this situation, and You just won’t.” No, I refuse to do this. My God is good. All He does is good. And in the end, I’ll see the value of this season. Even now, I see good in it. I’m just weary of it and I want the trial to be done. God knows this.

At the end of my life I may look back at this time and see it was a tiny trial compared to those which came later. Or, I might view it as unquestionably one of the hardest trials I ever had. Either way, there’s one thing I know. The joy of the Lord is my strength. I do not want to waste my sorrows. I want them to yield their perfect result.

This morning I sat on the couch with my open Bible and mug of coffee, just like I do every morning. Except this morning, in all my fear and discouragement, tears streamed down my face. I didn’t feel close to God at all. He seemed far away, and I was frustrated that He seemed unwilling to give me any answer as to when this trial would be over. (See the civil war within? I believe God for all He says, but then I see my circumstances and I get afraid all over again).

I did want to hear from God but I wasn’t expecting to – so unlike me. (See that’s the enemy of our souls whispering in my ear saying “God doesn’t care.”) You just cannot listen to that. I read two passages from two different devotionals.

The first was this, plain and simple:

I the LORD do not change. (Malachi 3:6)

This encouraged my soul deeply because I know how faithful God has acted through the ages and how faithful He’s been with me. What was important to God from the start is important to Him now. He loved me first, He will love me always perfectly. He will never leave me nor forsake me.

And the second:

Your righteousness reaches to the skies, O God,
you who have done great things.
Who, O God, is like you?
Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter,
you will restore my life again;
from the depths of the earth
you will again bring me up.
You will increase my honor
and comfort me once again.
(Psalm 71:19-21)

The entire psalm is chalk full of encouraging words and I’m hard pressed to pick which ministers to me most. Oh I just have to share this part, too:

In you, O LORD, I have taken refuge;
let me never be put to shame.
Rescue me and deliver me in your righteousness;
turn your ear to me and save me.
Be my rock of refuge,
to which I can always go;
give the command to save me;
for you are my rock and my fortress.
(Psalm 41:1-3)

God will not allow my foot to slip. He will not. And He will not allow your foot to slip either. That's a promise.

Have a great weekend everybody. Would it surprise you if I said that my heart is not quite as heavy as it was even 15 minutes ago?

See you Monday.

Faith and Flashlights

Happy first day of June. Wow! If I have any readers out there who just graduated or are about to graduate from high school or college, congratulations! I still haven’t put away my Christmas cards and now it’s June.

In some ways, I feel like I am walking in the dark right now. Last week, I suspected God was about to close a door to a specific job opportunity that I thought He had just opened. I had two significant reservations about this position, yet there was a wonderfully unique aspect to it. I genuinely felt this might be the direction God now wanted to take me in light of recent insights He had given me.

Well, I didn’t get the job. I was disappointed but also relieved. Perhaps those reservations were more notable than I'd even considered. When I thought I might be offered the job, I began this paradigm shift immediately. I thought about purchasing a new wardrobe or whether that would even be necessary. Maybe I should change the oil on the car today, maybe get my hair cut, just in case I started next week

Then I got the news. After I spent a while licking my wounds, I realized what was most disappointing was not that I hadn’t been offered the job. Rather, it was not knowing what God was doing in life next after all.

Again.

Thing is, I do have clear direction for how I’m spending this whole day, even through the end of the week. So to say I don’t have direction is not entirely true. It just feels like I don’t have direction. I’m not the kind of gal who wants to know what’s way down the road. Generally I’m okay with God dispensing information to me on a need-to-know basis. Yet I’m so ready to receive a peek into God’s long-term direction. Yes, I know what I’m to do next. I’m just not sure about next week.

Fact is, if I need to know something, God will tell me. If He withholds information or He imparts information, it’s all for my good and His glory. He’s not a tease and He doesn’t set His children up. So here’s my take on last week:

For some reason, God decided it was worth it for me to get dressed, head out for this interview, do my best, think I might have the job, realize I don’t, be sad for one set of reasons, be relieved for another set, and then go through the exercise of letting the job go entirely and moving on to what He clearly has for me today. I’ve done that, I’m happy to say. Good thing. I need my energy for new tasks before me!

I thought of this analogy. I love to camp, though I’m not crazy about making the trek from my campsite to the restroom late at night when it’s pitch black except for the moon. So I grab my flashlight and turn it all the way so the light casts a large circle in front of me opposed to a smaller one if you only turn it slightly.

As I choose to trust God when I just don’t know understand what’s going on around me, it’s like turning on my flashlight fully. His Word becomes a light to my path and lamp to my feet in the darkness. And yet, no matter how efficiently I’m using that flashlight, I’m still only going to be able to take one step at a time. It’s dark outside and I need to walk carefully.

There have been seasons in my life that I’ve walked with great clarity. I knew exactly what came next. This season evidently isn’t one of them. So what if I can’t rattle off where I hope I’ll be in six months from now? Or five years from now? I do know what I’m up to in the most important way: In six months from now, I plan on being more firmly established in the grace of God and loving Him even more than I do today! And as far as any decisions I need to make? Well, as I spend time with the Lord, meditating on His Word, He will give me the wisdom and discernment to make them.

I must not feel like I’m doing something wrong when my “flashlight appears only so bright.” God’s not asking me to try to figure out anything. God does not play games with His children and He’s certainly not “playing me.” He loves me. Circumstances may appear confusing but God Himself is not a God of confusion.

I know this to be true. There are so many aspects of my life right now that are quite exciting. Some too personal to share. But God is good and He is taking very good care of me. I’ve got no complaints. A few trials, yes, but no complaints.

Please tell me some of you can relate to some of what I’ve shared!

Who among you fears the LORD and obeys the word of his servant? Let him who walks in the dark, who has no light, trust in the name of the LORD and rely on his God. (Isaiah 50:10 NIV)