Category: Pondering

Came across my favorite passage of the book in reading Ezekiel today.  I remember the first time I heard it.  Can’t tell you who spoke in chapel that day nor their sermon title, but I can tell you it changed my life.

I invite you to read that passage again and let it sink in.  God is not up in the sky anxiously waiting for a timer to go off so he can finally wipe out all the wicked people and dance all over their graves.  On the contrary, he is holding out, giving them as much time as possible, because what he really wants is for them to turn from their wicked ways so they can live.

This is the heart behind the gospel.  God sent his Son, Jesus, because he does not enjoy killing people for their sin.  Rather, he loves sinners and wants them to be saved, delivered and healed.  I am convinced that there is absolutely no one so far gone into sin that God’s love cannot reach.

If you have not yet received the precious gift of salvation, it is not too late.  You have only to ask.  Just talk to God.  Tell him you believe that his Son, Jesus, paid the price for your sin.  Tell him you are sorry for doing things your own way and ask Jesus to be your Lord. This is how you receive the gift of eternal life.

Thinking about rest this morning.  I started my day at 7:30 am.  Since I’ve been working diligently over the past month on increasing my emotional intelligence, I noted an anxious feeling about having slept that late and admitted to myself that this is my norm.  Unless I start my day particularly early, I feel anxious.

You’ve heard the expression, “I have a love/hate relationship with [insert topic].”  When it comes to rest, I just haven’t built that relationship at all.  I have put all my eggs in the basket of accomplishment and efficiency.  Anything less than perfect efficiency and I cannot rest.  Exactly how much time do you think I reach perfect efficiency?  Yeah, that’s why rest does not come to me.

Recently I pushed past the point that my body said it was time for bed, and I got what I call “overtired.”  Then I couldn’t sleep.  For about a week and a half I couldn’t sleep much more than two hours in a row.  Up and down all night.  I finally started praying about it, and the Lord answered my prayer by letting me sleep better this week.

For me, MariNelle’s message Sunday was so timely. If it was not for anyone else, it was definitely for me.  Finding Rest. 

I had memorized Matthew 11:28-30 summer of 1991 with Teen Missions, so I quoted as she read the verses.

“Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.  Take my yoke upon you, and learn of me; for I am meek and lowly of heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

I caught several things from her message. 

First was a good question.  “Were you only created to do what you have natural capacity for?” No.  I believe God uses both my natural strengths and my weaknesses.  To be honest, I think he gets more pleasure out of using my weaknesses.

Second, “Christ’s rest is not a rest from work but in work.”  I’ve had that idea for a long time.  I don’t want to live my life just waiting for vacation.  I want to build a sustainable lifestyle that includes rest.  In one measure at least, I have succeeded.  My quiet time with the Lord is my place of rest.  When I am getting that consistently, I can endure anything.

Third, Jesus said, both that he would give rest and that I would find rest.  That passage seems backward.  Jesus said, “take my yoke”.  The word yoke conjures an image of hard labor, heavy plowing, sweat pouring down.  Contrast that with Jesus promise, “you will find rest.”  I think the secret is that to take up Jesus’ yoke one must lay down the one they’ve been carrying.

I left service Sunday challenged to ask Holy Spirit what should and should not be on my calendar.  I am feeling encouraged to be in a growth process.  I am learning rest.  I am growing in ability to sense Holy Spirit’s lead on small decisions like what I put on my schedule.

Thank you, Lord, for your grace on my life.  It is a pleasure to walk with you.

I come from a very individualized culture.  Though I know it’s true, my mind has a hard time grasping that for most of the world the group matters more than the individual.  I read of Asian cultures that value family honor above all.  During the height of COVID, when in Missouri I heard so many decrying government regulation regarding face covering and vaccination, I was told that in Japan everyone cooperates with such things because they value the group above themselves.

Considering group mentality, how many times have I read the New Testament and marveled how quickly leaders were to stone or at least threaten to stone someone who spoke words the group considered dangerous.  Apostle Paul was beaten or stoned numerous times for preaching the gospel before it was accepted by community leaders.  Before that he was the one dragging people before the Sanhedrin and having them imprisoned and more for defecting from the group in power to follow Christ.  It seems the culture of Jesus and Paul’s day had little individual freedom.

While I marvel at the lack of personal liberty in Jesus’ day, the “ah ha” comes when I read in Scripture the history surrounding the exile.  Before exile the people as a whole stopped worshipping the Almighty.  They bowed to all kinds of idols and more.  The result, nearly everyone died as God’s wrath was poured out. 

Today in Ezekiel 9 this caught my attention.

To the end there remained those who mourned the turning of their culture away from Yahweh.  I wonder how many of those who survived the siege of Jerusalem by Nebuchadnezzar were those “who weep and sigh”.

I’ve been taught the Bible my entire life and have studied on my own since my teen years.  I am now 47, and it was only last week that the low number of exiles hit me.  I sat jaw dropped for a full minute I think.  King David took a census at the end of his reign and found 800,000 in Israel and 500,000 in Judah (2 Sam 24:9).  That was only the fighting men, not the Levites, the women & children or those unable to fight.  Contrast that with the number taken captive to Babylon by Nebuchadnezzar (Jeremiah 52:28-30), 4,600 total!!!  WOW! . . . Let me say that again.  WOW!!!  That’s roughly ONE THIRD OF ONE PERCENT!!! I always wondered how in the world people survived the siege of Jerusalem for over two years.  Now I know.  They didn’t.

Considering these numbers, it begins to make more sense why in Jesus’ day the religious leaders were so quick to kill anyone they saw as violating God’s law. They took seriously the consequences individual sin could have on the group.

Point to ponder:  In what ways has my individualistic western culture shaped my view of the world that do not line up with the culture of Heaven?

In my head I know that every day is a day for thanksgiving. I know that and I practice that. Gratitude is part of my internal culture. Some days more than others I just feel it in my bones. God is SO good to me.

This morning I sit in my quiet place reflecting, listening, communing with my Heavenly Father. I have spoken my thanks to Him. Now I want to share publicly.

Do you ever stumble across a place in your heart that is just dark? I’m not talking about something you are intentionally shutting off from the Lord, not about secret sin. I just mean a place where there is no light. A hopeless place.

As a believer, I like to think that light shines in all the places of my heart. I have trusted Jesus as my Savior since my youth. His Spirit resides in me. Eternal life is mine. That life is now, not just after I die.

God took me as I am. He didn’t wait for me to get every area of my life straight before He took up residence. He walks with me. He holds my hand, so to speak. I’m starting to think this is my life message.

While I generally have a positive and hope-filled outlook on life, there has been exactly one area cloaked in darkness for years. Twenty-three plus years into this, I had given up on ever being happy in my marriage. I consciously committed myself to staying, but my marriage remained a place of pain. I could see my own brokenness but could not fix it. I could worship the Lord and could commune with Him in my quiet place. I could work hard at my job and could volunteer at church and in the community and feel good about those things, but at home I hurt.

In January the missions department told us they would postpone our application for a year and that one of the three reasons was to give us time to work on our marriage. On the way home I said out loud to my husband that I would go to the counseling they recommended but that I had absolutely no hope that it would do any lasting good. I knew that our leaders were right in their decision, and I was oh so grateful that they offered us resources to help instead of simply showing us the door. I just had no reasonable expectation that things could really change.

Inside that two hour ride home hope began to stir in my heart. I trust the Lord. I just do. It might be a gift. I started believing that God was going to do a miracle in my life and that I would give hope to other women who have given up on intimacy.

As the time approached for our ten day intensive with Ministry Resources International, doubt closed in. How much difference could I expect after ten days when I had 23+ years under my belt? While I couldn’t believe for real connection, I did trust God.

One morning the first week of receiving ministry, I walked alone. In my heart I “looked” at that dark pit inside of me and said to the Lord I was afraid to go down there. He reminded me that He was right there with me and would hold my hand all the way. He did.

Indeed, I experienced a breakthrough day eight. God is good to me. He is so faithful. When He says I will walk with you, He means it. When He holds your hand you can go anywhere, even dark pits in the heart.

I am beginning a new leg of my life journey. This time I’m holding two hands, Jesus’ and my husband’s. We are in this together. We have a long ways to go and mountains to climb. The goal is not a destination. The goal is connection along the journey. As long as we stay together we win. By God’s grace I will learn to love not only those at a comfortable distance but also the one who is close enough to get under my skin.

I say “thank you” all the time to the Lord and to other people, but now I grasp for stronger words. This morning my soul pours out gratitude.

Thank you, God, for your mercy on my life. You are the very definition of faithfulness. You blessed me with a husband who is loyal even through years of disconnection. You gave us leaders who see value in broken people. Thank you for intercessors helping fight the spiritual battle for our breakthrough and for believing counselors to walk beside us, who listen to your voice and depend on Holy Spirit. Thank you that we have been able to take this time away to receive ministry. Your light now shines on that once dark place in my heart. I have a new hope. Now I can fight the good fight.

Abba, may my life bring you the glory you deserve. Amen.

I am convinced that I’ll never stop being amazed at the way God orchestrates timing, particularly the way I come across just the right Scripture passages at just the right time.  It’s not like He rearranges the Bible every night.  Still somehow He has year after year and situation after situation had me at just the right place in the Word to get what I needed for the day.

We returned yesterday from District Council (Network Conference) 2022.  As always I enjoyed my time visiting with fellow servants of the Lord and worshiping together.  In the midst of my joy I also faced again the heart rending reality that I am still in the waiting, the in-between.  I really am OK with that, but still, there are places of my heart that a tiny touch can elicit a river of tears.  For those places I practice surrender.

This morning reading Ezra I was encouraged once again.  Exiled people of Judah had returned.  They did not come up with this plan themselves.  God had initiated the move by stirring the heart of King Cyrus of Persia to rebuild the temple in Jerusalem.  It must have been exciting for the exiles.  Jeremiah’s prophecy was being fulfilled.  70 years of exile had been completed.  It was time to move forward.

The people rebuilt the altar and reestablished morning and evening sacrifices and festivals.  Then they set to work rebuilding the temple’s foundation.  Once the foundation was finished, they had a celebration.  Finally!  They were back in their homeland worshiping their own God.  Soon the temple would be complete and then they would really celebrate.

Or would they?  Opposition that had been ever present finally succeeded in gaining the ear of King Artaxerxes.  The temple reconstruction which began by order of King Cyrus was stopped cold turkey by King Artaxerxes.  How frustrating!  They had to wait . . . again!  We are not talking wait a month or two for supplies to arrive.  We are talking delay without end in sight.  No doubt some wondered what God was doing.  Had God really been in this?

The work remained at a standstill until the 2^nd year of King Darius of Persia when people responded to words from prophets Haggai and Zechariah by returning to the work.  Opposition arose yet again and it seemed they would score another victory by their letter to King Darius, but God.  It was God’s time.  Not only was the work allowed to continue, but the opposition was forced to help pay for it.  What’s more, by order of the king anyone who violated the decree would have his house demolished and be impaled on its beam!

Abba, you certainly know how to complete the works you start. May I be always faithful in the waiting.

If you, like me, are in a season of waiting, I recommend this song by John Waller, “While I’m Waiting.”

Been thinking about drafting a personal mission statement.  Took some time this morning to work on it and began by asking the Lord to help me clarify my purpose in life.  Immediately the statement, “I live to love,” came to me.

My heart’s cry for as long as I can remember has been this one thing.  I want my Heavenly Father to be pleased with me.  When I stand before God in eternity, I want to hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

I am such a doer.  I love projects and accomplishing goals.  God wired me that way.  I will never forget saying to my mom one day mid-high school, “I just want to be busy for God.”  A couple of years later the evening speaker at Redwood Family Camp preached about being, not just doing.  The Lord and I had a long walk and talk under the big trees after service that night.  It didn’t change my wiring, but it did challenge me to grow.

Honestly, I don’t think of myself as particularly loving.  In fact, the day John Mark proposed I responded that I was not sure I knew how to love.  It seemed something was broken inside of me that I was not able to bond rightly.  I could move across the country without suffering from missing the people I left.  I’ve many times been concerned about that because I’m not sure it’s healthy.  I never used to cry at all when I watched movies . . . then I had kids.  Overnight movies moved me to tears.  I am not mushy.  I think people need to suck it up and take responsibility for their lives.  Twice in Bible College I took the Taylor Johnson Temperament Analysis and had scored 3% and 4% in compassion.  That said, I do care about people.  I care about the people in front of me.  I notice the people that get overlooked in a group.        

Jesus replied, “‘You must love the LORD your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ The entire law and all the demands of the prophets are based on these two commandments.”

Matthew 22:37-40 NLT

If God’s highest goal for me is to love him with all of my heart and to love those around me, what does love look like?  I heard Heidi Baker preach that.  Love looks like something.

What does it look like to love God with all my heart?  At this point in my life, it looks like time.  It’s time in the morning where I put off planning all the work I want to accomplish.  It’s time I read the Word and ponder the little things I never noticed before.  It’s time stilling my heart to listen.  What are you saying to me, God?

Loving God with all my heart looks like obedience.  It’s saying yes when I don’t yet understand.  It’s daring to be stretched.  It’s taking risk when I’m not a risk taker.  It looks like trust.  It’s stepping out just because He said so even when the door has not yet opened.  It’s coming as I am.  It’s daring to make a fool of myself.  It’s acting, not just talking.

Loving God with all my heart looks like yearning.  It’s passion in worship, moving with the Spirit, pouring myself out before the Lord.  It looks like lingering in the Presence.  It’s when my top desire in life, the motivation behind my actions and my words is for God’s face to smile upon me.

Every year that goes by I understand more vividly that I cannot love God with all my heart without also loving the people he put around me.  God loves those people very much, and he wants me to value them the way that he values them.  I am not meant to be isolated in my worship of God.  I am meant to be moved with compassion, like Jesus.

I cannot think about this topic of living to love without referencing at least in my own mind the Prophet Bob Jones and his heavenly encounter when God asked him if he had learned to love.

My heart’s cry in this season is this.  God, teach me to love.  Help me see people.  May others feel your love for them because of the way I treat them as valued.  May I always treat them kindly and be patient.  May I consider their feelings when I choose my words.  May I show them respect.  May I have the courage to risk rejection.  Help me to be always humble.  May I bring my hurts to you and not lash out at others.  May I be consistent in prayer for the needs of others.  Show me ways to put action to my faith by serving.  May my love for others be a reflection of my love for you.  May my love for my husband and my family be as filled with grace as my love for those at a more comfortable distance.

When my time on earth is done, may it be said of me, “She lived to love.”

Today’s question.  Who am I . . . at my core?

This is not my first experience with core values exercises.  I tend to enjoy such activities, as both reflection and personal growth are among my values.  Beginning with nearly 500 potential labels for what motivates me, I shed over 400 the 1^st round, and took it down close to 60 the 2nd.  Only after I began grouping did those most central to my being begin to surface.  I am tasked with narrowing the list down to five, only five core values.  Well, I made it to six so far.  Those selected are not perfect, but they are progress.

I ask myself many questions. Do I value hard work because I value productivity, or is it vice versa?  Which labels suit me best?  Clearly excellence, independence, trust & productivity belong in the top five.  I nearly made “learning” a subcategory under “excellence,” but life-long learning and continual growth are such passions that I just had to set apart learning with its own heading. That leaves a 6^th weaker category that I am unable to shift below any other.

The present label of “positivity” is not satisfying.  The idea here is attitude.  I ask myself, “Is having a positive attitude a core value?  Or is it a choice?”  Can those two coexist?  By choice I look for the silver lining in a dark cloud of a situation.  It is by intent that I actively welcome people once I am established in a group.  Gratitude is definitely a choice.  Then again, I AM an encourager, which I think is more than a choice.

More questions.  How does positivity relate to equality?   It’s a poor label for the attitude of having value for others that are different from me.  Why subordinate cooperation to positivity?  Because, though fiercely independent I have always seen cooperation as higher than isolation.  These things are about attitude.

The question that comes next – What does one do with the values one aspires to embrace but that have not yet made it into the core of one’s being?  For instance, I want my life to be about love.  I will forever reference prophet Bob Jones’s encounter with God when the Father asked him if he had learned to love. Ever since I heard that, I have set it before myself as a life goal.  I will learn to love like the Father.  I wish I could say love was currently at my core, but no, I am as yet on a journey to learn love.

Abba, I set before you those labels I have observed as presently describing the core of my being.  I offer them up and ask that one by one you set them below the label of love.  When I stand before you in eternity, I want love to be who I am.

So far in my Bible reading this year I’ve made it to Deuteronomy from Genesis.  I’m not sure how much of this is the result of switching to a journaling Bible, but to some degree it feels like I’m discovering things for the first time, very fresh. Whatever the case, I’ve been unintentionally studying Moses.

I do love to spend time pondering great questions. What must it have been like to follow God in Moses’ lifetime?  There were no churches, not even a Bible to read.  What did he have on which to base his faith?  His GREAT . . . grandfathers had encounters with God. But where was God in Moses’ day when his people had become enslaved in the nation to which God had lead them for provision during a famine?  Other than his infancy, Moses was raised in the house of Pharoah in a land where idols were worshipped.  What motivated Moses when he killed that Egyptian slave master? How did Moses become this man of faith?  Did his first years with his Hebrew parents ignite the spark of his faith?  How much influence did his father-in-law, the priest of Midian, have on him?  What must it have been like to encounter God at the burning bush?  Life-altering is all I can think.

Moses didn’t feel qualified for the task to which God was calling him.  He really pushed it too.  God gave in to Moses and added Aaron to his staff, but it was Moses that met God face to face throughout the journey.  He faced life and death challenges, went to God, and God gave him answers.  When the people rebelled against him and against God multiple times, Moses response was to fall face down before the Lord.  He refused to go on to the promised land if the Lord did not go with them.  He risked his own position with God to save his people, rejecting God’s offer to wipe out these people and build a new nation from his own loins.  Moses physically heard the sound of God’s voice.  While I believe it absolutely, my mind has a hard time imagining a face literally glowing at all, much less to such a degree that it required a veil to cover it.  This is how close Moses was to God.

What caught my attention this morning, however, is the way Moses explained to the people the fact that he would not be crossing over the Jordan with them into the promised land.  It was a flaw.  Moses, this amazing man of God, had a flaw.  He shifted the blame onto the people.  No, it was not the people’s fault that he died on Mount Nebo instead of in Canaan.  In a moment of weakness at Meribah, his sister having recently died, he acted out his own frustration with the people’s lack of faith.  Still, it was his own choice, not theirs.  This speaks to me, Moses’ having a flaw.  Yes, his face glowed, but he was human too.

Just over a year ago now, my husband and I found out we would no longer be pastoring where we were.  I was in an emotional pit, not because of leaving the pastorate but due to hopes deferred.  I asked my husband to consider just getting a job temporarily, as I was not OK and was not ready to go pastor another church.  Though he mentioned that maybe this was our opportunity to pursue my call to serve on the foreign field, the timing was terrible.  I was not OK.  Also, I needed to know that he felt called himself, that he was not just tagging along for my sake.  Since I did not immediately respond positively, he sent resumes to a couple of churches.  My emotional state worsened and I wanted to die.  I was not suicidal, but small difficulties would put me in bed just wanting to die.  After 23 years of marriage ups and downs, I had no remaining hope that I would ever become happy in my relationship.  I felt like all the responsibilities of running the household and now being the family breadwinner were on my shoulders.  My house was never clean.  I was unhappy with our family life.  I carried the responsibility of caring for a type 1 diabetic child myself.  I couldn’t keep up.

Thank God I had a friend who saw me.  She invited me to lunch and we began meeting for lunch weekly.  When I reached the point of regularly wanting to die I asked her to hold me accountable to get help.  I did get help and became myself again.  Shortly thereafter my husband and I felt the Lord leading us that it was time to apply to be missionaries. 

This is the point at which I begin to relate to Moses.  Who am I that I should apply to be a missionary?  We have qualifications in other areas, but one extremely important area is the strength of one’s marital relationship.  Our youngest child has the medical needs of type 1 diabetes and I sometimes wondered about his behavior.  On top of that, what would they say about my own emotional track record?  I did not relish the idea of laying my life up on the table for examination and being told I was nuts to even ask.  It’s not like I didn’t know these were important issues.  Then again, the Lord said go.  I would do anything for Him, even make a fool of myself.

We met with the director of the area to which we felt called.  We filled out all kinds of applications and other forms, had meetings and went to doctors.  We waited many months for the next round of interviews and candidate orientation.  I prepared to hand off my main income job to my successor.  Meanwhile my husband got a negative report from the doctor.  Our youngest son’s behavior started getting worse.  Our pre-interview questionnaire brought up afresh all the issues over which I had concerns. My anxiety was going up.

Then I heard a sermon online.  I cannot remember who was the speaker.  I remember her talking about Jesus being the Lord of her life.  That means that all the burdens she was carrying were not hers.  She was the servant.  He was the master.  The buck stopped with Him.  This really spoke to me, ’cause I was carrying a lot.  For all these years I’ve felt destined to serve the Lord in a foreign field.  I had to lay it on the altar . . . again.  It was in His hands. 

We went to our much awaited missions interview.  I had peace about it, because it was in the Lord’s hands.  No surprise, the interviewer was gracious in telling us that he felt we had things to offer and yet recommending that our application be put on hold for a year.  Two of his three areas of concern were mine also.  His 3^rd concern would be resolved by waiting a year plus the year would allow us time for marriage counseling.

If you’ve never been in this position, let me assure you that when you have been telling all of your friends for most of a year that you are headed to the mission field and that the magic date for approval (or not) is March 2022, it is humbling to then have to tell everyone that you have been asked to wait another year.  There is absolutely no finger pointing going on here.  Not only do I trust that God has us in His hand and that His timing is perfect, but I also trust that our leadership hears from the Lord and that they also have our best interest at heart.  I will wait.  I will not only wait, but I will work.  I will do my part.  I will continue to pray and continue to lay it down before the Lord.

You know, Moses, that amazing man of God, never made it to the promised land.  He died on Mount Nebo looking that direction.  If the Lord takes me, I will go.  If He does not, I will stay.  I will serve Him all the days of my life wherever my feet are planted.  I have given Him my heart without condition.

This is what I believe.  Missionaries, like Moses, are people, not super humans.  I choose not to put them on a pedestal.  They are flesh and blood. Foreign mission fields are not magical places where everything from ones dreams suddenly falls into place and all issues in one’s life suddenly fade to the background.  I’ve read their stories, their ups and downs, trials as well as victories.  Missionaries are people who said yes to God and followed Him to places with different cultures and different languages.  They have struggles like me.  I too share this call, though I am deeply flawed.

Today I have a renewed hope.  I am believing the Lord for a miracle in my marriage.  I do not expect my life to turn into a fairy tale where everyone lives happily ever after.  I do believe the Lord is going to breathe life into some dead places.  I believe that where I used to be hopeless and want to die, the Lord is going to give me keys to help pull other women from the pit of despair.  I am not there yet.  I am on a journey.  The Lord is with me.  With Him I will go anywhere.

I do not have control over my son’s behavior, neither can I control my husband’s health.  I have always walked in faith.  Today my faith is stronger than it was when I began this journey.  I would not have chosen these struggles, but they are working out for my good.  I don’t know if our missions application will ever be approved, but I know that I have obeyed.  It is well with my soul.

If you, my friend, believe in Jesus, please come to him as you are.  He is not sitting up in heaven waiting for you to make yourself holy enough for Him.  He is beside you offering you his hand, inviting you to walk with Him.  As you walk beside Him, don’t spend all your time trying to fix yourself or disqualifying yourself.  Spend your time looking into His eyes.  In time you will become like Him if you walk with Him.

Abba, today I pray over my friends and any who would share my story.  May they find peace with you through Jesus.  May theirs be a walk of faith, dependent on your goodness, not their own.  If any are sitting on the fence, not fully surrendered to your Lordship, I ask you to draw them in to You.  May they be filled with your Holy Spirit and be used by you to do many good and mighty works.  In Jesus name.

I’ve been giving thought to the meaning of tasks prescribed by God to the priests in Leviticus and Numbers.  This morning’s passage began in Numbers 28 with daily offerings.  I’ve decided that God loves a good BBQ.  Though I haven’t counted, I’ve noticed a number of verses that talk about sacrifices being a pleasing aroma.

Joking aside, what jumped out at me today was the pouring out of the wine that accompanied the twice daily offerings of lambs.  Poured out.  In being offered to God, the wine had to be wasted.

I grew up in a household that wasted nothing.  We “cleaned” our plates at every meal. We ate leftovers, either reheating or creating new dishes. Leftovers held past their prime were fed to the dogs. We recycled cans and reused containers of every sort. We wore hand-me-down clothes. We took care of our stuff so it would last. We drove the same brown 1974 Toyota Corolla from as early as I can remember until I was nearly out of college. To this day my dad drives his yellow 1981 Toyota pickup and does his own maintenance. We salvaged and reused lumber.  My dad taught me to straighten a nail and reuse it. He kept jars in the shop organizing the screws, bolts, nails, washers that he picked up here and there. My mom pumped the wash water from her electric wringer washer (which she used both to save money and conserve water) out into the yard to water the apple trees. She hung out clothes on the line to dry to save electricity. She washed dishes in dish pans so that she could carry that water out to water plants when she finished. When there was a drought we even waited between toilet flushings at times.  I guess I should not be surprised that I simply cannot escape this internal drive for efficiency.  I came by it honestly.

Having just been through more than a full year of life transition and facing another, I’ve done A LOT of reflecting.  Since my early teens I’ve wanted to serve the Lord with my life.  I first imagined that might look like being part of a traveling singing group or marrying a pastor and serving alongside him. Later I felt called to the mission field and prepared by going to Central Bible College, class of ’97.  I married someone who expected to pastor and we served as lay leaders for years, just taking the next step as opportunities arose to serve, following as we felt the Lord was leading.  It was not until 2013 that John Mark had the opportunity to serve “on staff” and 2015 when he got to serve as Senior Pastor. I have always served in some capacity, living by that passage, “whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might.” 

Many times I’ve been tempted with thoughts of having wasted my life. I have not yet made it to the foreign mission field as a career missionary.  Even when I finally got to be an actual pastor’s wife, I never really found my lane in that role.  I did serve the church, as always.  Many hours I’ve spent crying before the Lord pondering this one thing.  When I stand before God, will he be pleased with how I’ve spent this life.  My life hasn’t looked like what I’d imagined.  Even so, there is no point along my path that I can point to where I felt the Lord pointing one way and I went another.  I’ve always said yes.  Every time I’ve come to the Lord with this question, I’ve always come away with this answer.  He didn’t hand me a road map and tell me to follow it.  He gave me His hand and invited me to walk with Him.  He is pleased with my obedience.

My family is in the process of trying to be appointed as foreign missionaries.  A couple of weeks ago we had an important interview and the result was that our application is being held for one year before we can move forward.  That was hard.  I cried.  I knew that it was right, and I trusted God with it, yet I cried some more.  I poured out the wine of my life before the Lord in prayer.  I said, “If saying yes to you means I never get to go, I still say yes.”

This is me.  My life is on the altar.  Whether it is burnt up as a pleasing aroma or whether it is poured out (wasted) as a drink offering, I yield it up.

There is something very freeing about having it all laid down.

Had a rough start.  My youngest child refused to get up and do what needed done to get ready for school.  How I hate to start mornings off this way.  I kept thinking, “I don’t know what to do.” 

Then the Lord met me in my quiet time.  I veered from my regular Bible reading schedule, which currently has me in Exodus amid the plagues.  Instead I went in search of the verse running through my head.  I love it how the Lord speaks through the many verses I memorized in my youth.  I knew the passage was in James and said something like this, “If any man lacks wisdom, let him ask God,” but I couldn’t remember how it ended.

Having in hand a newer Bible, not the tattered, white KJV of my youth with its hundreds of underlined verses and highlights, I glanced over the first three chapters of James.  No luck.  I settled in to read the whole book until I found it.  Within seconds the Lord was speaking directly.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance”. James 1:2-3 NIV

I stopped to consider these words.  I have never thought of trials being those things that come from within.  To me trials has always meant troubles from without.  In fact, for as long as I can remember it’s been a pet peeve of mine to hear believers refer to difficulties they face (most of which seemed minor to me) as “trials and tribulations.”  To me trials and tribulations refer to drastic circumstances, like the Apostle Paul being stoned and left for dead or like believers in Afghanistan being martyred for their faith.

Today a question entered my mind.  Maybe I have it wrong.  Maybe “trials of many kinds” means all kinds, even personal struggles.

I moved on to the next verse, perseverance.  The truth is, I don’t struggle with persevering through trials from without.  I struggle with persevering when I face personal issues, relational issues, parenting difficulties.  Isaac’s recent refusals to do what he is told have been a hot button.  They can pull me straight from a level plain into a pit of despair in less than an hour.  Last week I wrote in my journal, “Heard this from the Lord. DON’T GIVE IN TO DESPAIR.” I’ve noticed a pattern that I can go from pressing on to giving up in a flash. I’ve said over myself that I lack perseverance.

Here’s the truth.  I am tenacious.  The Lord put that in me as a youth.  I don’t give up.  Well, I don’t give up on most things.  I’ve given up on exactly one thing, happiness in marriage.  +23 years in, I struggle.  I am not good at this.  I can persevere through anything except feeling hopeless in my marriage.  Even in that, the truth is I am persevering.  I am still married.  I have not walked away and I will not walk away.  I fall down.  I cry and cry some more.  I call out to the Lord.  I get back up and try again.

Now I am facing a 2^nd issue that is just beyond me.  I don’t know what to do with my now 13 year old son who refuses to do what he is told.  I worry that these two issues will close the door to me fulfilling my life-long dream of serving on the foreign mission field.  I worry how the poor choices my son is making will affect him long-term.  Will he have to repeat 7^th grade?  Will his vision be damaged because he is letting his glucose stay too high for long periods?  If I take him to a counselor, will it be better or worse?  I’ve heard scary stories from people who went to the counselor as a kid.

This encourages me:

“[W]hen your faith is tested, your endurance has a chance to grow.  So let it grow, for when your endurance is fully developed, you will be perfect and complete, needing nothing.” James 1:3-4 NLT

Here I am, vulnerable, raw even.  I am getting stronger.  I am learning to fight. 

Today the Lord met me.  I asked him for wisdom.  I did find the verse I was seeking.  It was immediately after the other three verses I needed to hear today.

“If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you. He will not rebuke you for asking.”  James 1:5 NLT