Faith

Hidden: A Word for 2024

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Happy New Year!

Many people, especially writers, chose a one-word theme each year. Do you do this? I do occasionally. But this year, a word chose me—hidden. God whispered it in my ear twice in December. First, through a devotional by Elyse Fitzpatrick. Then again, through a conversation with my mentor and friend, author Heather Holleman.

The Apostal Paul reminds us of our hiding place, “For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God” (Colossians 3:3).

We tend to fragment life into the sacred and secular, worship and work, when in reality, God made all of nature supernatural. The spiritual and material coexist in creation. We should never undervalue even the most menial tasks. When done with the right attitude for God’s glory, these are sacred trusts and acts of worship. Here’s an acrostic the Lord gave me for the word hidden:

Held

In
D
ivine

Dedication

Even

Now

Through my eight-year journey to bring you Choose Now to Grow Grand, Not Old, I’ve buried my basement. It’s the catch-all space in my house where we toss stuff because we aren’t using it and don’t know who needs it. Certainly, we don’t; if we did, we wouldn’t have put it there to begin with. Can you relate? My save-it-for-a-rainy-day storage plan devolved into a deluge.

Since my first book discusses the blessings of downsizing, instead of burdening children with junk, I’m going into hiding to practice what I preach. Abba is sending me to my room until it’s clean, lol! I’ve been meditating on this verse from Ecclesiastes, “a time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together,” Ecclesiastes 3:5.

I’d like to think I’m the one wise woman King Salomon never met, but, in truth, I just teri-phrase things. My version goes a time to clutter and a time to clean. Another Terri, Terri Lynn Schump, a sister in the Wellspring Writers group I’m part of, says, “A time to expand and a time to contract.” So, I’m cleaning, contracting, and casting away stones in my basement.

If you study the context of the word hidden in Colossians 3, you will see Paul is calling us to progressive sanctification—learning to live Christ-like. The Lord entrusts all of us with material possessions. The stuff in my basement belongs to Him, and I need to manage His property better. If Bill and I aren’t using it, I must pass it on to someone who will.

So, as an obedient child, I descend the stairs to hide, not in my basement; I’m hiding in Christ.

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Therefore, I will not be blogging for a while.

Since my blah, blah blogging won’t be cluttering your inbox, you have a few extra moments a month to join me and clean out something in your home, if you want, or read something by those incredible Christian women I mentioned at the beginning of this epistle. Follow the links and see what these ladies have written.  

Until my basement is tidy, Happy New Year! And Valentine’s Day, President’s Day, Martin Luther King Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter . . . you get the idea. I trust you’ll keep steeping in truth with me by daily reading God’s Word.

Blessings!

teri

Savoring Christmas

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Bask in the Afterglow!

Make yourself your favorite hot drink, sit in a comfy chair, and take a breath if possible.

Ahh, another Christmas has passed. What have been the highlights of this season for you?

Are your tree lights on? Mine are. There will be plenty of time next year to take my tree down, but for now, I just want to sit and reflect on the delights of this Advent season. I encourage you to do the same.

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A New Year fills our hearts with hope. What will it bring? So much wonder fills this day. Enjoy it!

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Until next year, your sister in Jesus,

teri

13 Days ‘til Christmas! Are Your Gifts Wrapped?

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Ready or not,

Jesus,

and Christmas are coming!

Too often, in the celebration of Christmas, we scurry like squirrels from store to store to get gifts for those we love. We make lists and budget money and, hopefully, pray as we shop. We want to bless people with unique presents that will enhance their lives. We want to find the gift that gives joy and makes memories like a sinless babe wrapped in swaddling clothes Who brought us the first Christmas. We can never outgive God. But we can rethink gift-giving and exercise greater discernment.

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Often, what people need most is not more things. I intentionally choose perishable gifts for some people. My mom has downsized for the last time and prefers not to figure out where to put more stuff. Theater tickets, yummy treats, and shared experiences mean much more to her than nick-nacks. She appreciates “things” she doesn’t have to find a place for. Truth be told, I also enjoy giving her things I won’t have to throw away or dispose of after she passes away. Not to sound morbid, but my mom is eighty-eight; our time together is passing quickly. Spending time together means a lot to both of us. I try to visit her for her birthday each year and have her stay with us at Christmas. Yes, I’m giving her gifts we both enjoy.

Three of my four kids earn annual incomes greater than mine. “What do you want for your birthday?” I’ll ask my son-in-love. “We want you to come for a visit,” he replies. Maybe the perfect gift for someone on your list is time. Just visit them. Perhaps a plane ticket costs three times more than you budgeted—but if you can afford it—think how delighted a parent or child would be if you were the Christmas gift on their doorstep. That’s what God did when He sent His Son, Emmanuel; God came to see us and to let us see Him.
“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” James 1:17. God benefits from everything He’s given us no matter how great His sacrifice, “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2

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Jesus came to give us life; good gifts promote health like the bicycles Bill and I gave our grandchildren this year. Bikes are not cheap. We combined our Christmas and birthday budgets for each child. My daughter, who hates clutter, was thrilled, and so were her kids. However, it came at the sacrifice of not receiving a gift on their birthdays and Christmas. All four kids received their bikes on their oldest sister’s birthday in mid-July so they could all ride the bikes in sunny, warm weather.

However, the two youngest girls who received bikes turned eight and six in October. So I decided to send a card and a very inexpensive gift to go on their bikes. The eight-year-old loves crafts and buttons. She received a button-bike bling kit I assembled for her. I included twisty ties so she could decorate her basket. She even shared her buttons with her sisters; all the girls received  bike-basket, button, bling! Good gifts promote creativity and can be shared. The six-year-old rides fast! We call her Brave Maeve. She received streamers for her handlebars.

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Teaching delayed gratification is good. Eve’s first son wasn’t the Savior she hoped for when she held up Cain and said, “Look, God gave us a man!” God gave His Son in the fullness of time (Galatians 4:4), not instantly at the beginning of the world. Maybe the best thing you can give a child is a savings account. My cousin used the money our grandma sent her kids and put it in the bank. They didn’t receive Great Grandma Irene’s many years of gifts until they were eighteen. I wish I had thought of that!!

All gifts don’t need to come in pretty wrapping paper or sit under the tree. I’m not a genius when it comes to gift-giving. The secret to giving great, memory-making presents is not a secret. Pray! Jesus tells us, “Without me, you can do nothing.” (John 15:5) Good gift-giving included.

If finding the perfect gifts and getting all that junk wrapped is stressing you out, maybe you need to drop to your knees, worship the Father of Lights, and ask Jesus, the Light of the World, to give you wisdom. Then, please take a deep breath and savor this Holy Season we call Advent. Wrapping up your Christmas shopping may not involve wrapping at all. The fact that Jesus came reminds us He’s coming again. Do your neighbors, friends, and family know? Let’s ensure everyone knows that Christ died for them, lives for them, and is returning for His people. Jesus is the perfect gift for everyone!

Merry Christmas!

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One of these Names is Not Like the Others! One of these Names Doesn’t Belong!

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So and So begat What’s His Name

The first time I ever heard a genealogy from the Bible was in grade school. “And So and So begot What’s His Name and What’s His name begot Who’s It,” read my grandpa Donaldson without batting an eye. My family laughed except for Grandma Erma. She was not amused by what she deemed irreverent.

I know a few people who get excited about genealogies, like my mom; usually, these people are genealogists. Only brave souls study and compile a family genealogy. When they do, it’s typically personal for their family.

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The Apostal Matthew, however, recorded the genealogy of Jesus. Luke also took on this task from a different side of the family. While these are the only two genealogies in the New Testament, lists of who begat who saturate the Old Testament. But in the genealogies of the Bible, Matthew’s is unique.

Some argue the genealogy in Matthew is unique because it mentions women. The Old Testament genealogies rarely mentioned women. However, the patens of Israel’s kings all include women. Matthew’s Gospel establishes Jesus’ legal claim to David’s throne and exalts Him as the King of Kings. A Jewish reader would expect to see some of their queens listed. So, mentioning four women by name is not an anomaly; however, one character is. Uriah!

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As I study the genealogies of Scripture, the listing of Uriah should strike us as scandalous. And it does, but not in the way the Lord intends. Our minds too quickly run to his wife, Bathsheba—but despite her blood relationship, her name is absent. The point is not that two adulterers are in the lineage of Christ. While the Lord contrasts a sinful King David with the better King David—Jesus—the sinless King of Kings, there’s more going on with the listing of Uriah.

Uriah is the only time in any Biblical genealogy that a scribe includes the name of a man who is not a relative. If God just wanted to remind us of David’s sin, He could have said, “And David begot Solomon by means of adultery.” But God mentions the name of the victim of this crime, Uriah. When we consider Uriah’s story, we discover two essential truths of the Gospel. First, Uriah exemplifies loyalty to King David. Second, Uriah the Hittite—like the three women mentioned before him—is a Gentile. God vindicated Uriah’s devotion to the King of the Jews by including him in the genealogy of the Messiah. Uriah’s inclusion reminds us Jesus was born to build a kingdom from every tribe, tongue, and nation. Jesus is not just the King of the Jews like David was. Jesus honors and welcomes every person who pledges allegiance to Him as Uriah pledged allegiance to David.

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So, as we read Mathew’s Christmas story, slow down in the opening genealogy. Let’s savor every word of God and not insert a name that isn’t recorded. Better yet, let’s stop after reading his name and read Uriah’s story in 2 Samuel 11 – 12. This account reminds us that one man’s sin brings death to many, just as the birth and death of the Savior bring many to life.

The peace on earth Jesus brings is peace with God—the forgiveness of sin and the redemption of all the devastation our sins inflict upon others. Uriah’s name doesn’t belong in Christ’s genealogy any more than our names belong in the Book of Life. But praise God, we can hear the angels sing, “Peace on earth, goodwill to men.” And by God’s grace, our names are written down in glory too. Merry CHRISTmas!

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Is “Yahweh” an Okay Way to Refer to God?

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“Hollowed be Thy name.”

Deep reverence motivated ancient scribes to translate the Lord’s proper name as Lord—Adonia in Hebrew. Even when modern Messianic Jewish scholars write English translations, they often choose to translate Elohim (Genesis 1:1) G-d dropping the ‘o’ to show respect for our Creator. Consider this statement from the translators of the Tree of Life Bible Version (a Messianic Jewish translation):

Our desire to honor traditional Christian translation practices:

God’s most holy, unspeakable Name usually appears in Bibles as “Lord”, but is sometimes not recognized as especially reverenced due to the mind’s ability to disregard the use of small caps. And, sometimes translators simply add vowels to the YHVH consonants of the Hebrew Aleph-Bet and give “The Name” utterance using the “Jehovah” or Yahweh.” This can be seen as very irreverent by Jewish people who would rather use “HaShem” which literally translates as “The Name.”

Taken from page xiii of the Tree of Live Bible

Many old and modern hymns use “Jehovah” and “Yahweh.” I sang those songs without thought for most of my life in Christ. But recently—I bristle. Through the intimacy we enjoy with God through Christ, have we become too familiar with the Holy Triune One?

His Spirit dwells in us, and He is our Father; does that afford us to be on a first-name basis with the Lord, Who is life and love personified in Jesus? Do you call your biological father by his first name? I don’t. Does that make him less personal? Not at all; Dad, Daddy, Papa, and Abba are terms of endearment reserved for children in a permanently close relationship. My friends called my dad Mr. Donaldson or Dave. My cousins called him Uncle Dave. “Daddy” was reserved for me and my brother alone.

Calling the Lord Father or Abba expresses a closeness that only those He has redeemed enjoy with Him. Calling Him by His first name strikes me as irreverent. Even Jesus never did that. He always said, “my Father,” and that is how he taught us to pray.

Christ refers to Himself as our brother and the Son of God and Man. Therefore, to call our Messiah Jesus (or, more accurately, Yeshua) is appropriate. We are on a first-name basis with our siblings. Hence, “Lord” referring to Jesus is not in small caps because, though He is God, we are referencing One specific person of our Triune Lord. If God amazes and mystifies us, should our awe not be reflected in how we refer to Him?

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You may think I’m being persnickety—but words and names matter. They’re powerful. And familiarity, as the cliché goes, breeds contempt. My growing conviction is born from an increasing reverence of the One Who is my all in all, my Creator, Sovereign, and Father. And I just can’t call Him by His first name anymore. So, if we happen to be singing in Church together and my “Adonia” interrupts your “Yahweh,” I hope you understand; I’m not judging you if you feel the freedom as I once did to sing the unspeakable Name. Freely expressing my awe by not speaking the Name liberates my heart. Together by faith, we hollow the Name of our Lord, God Almighty!

Autumn: A Season to Cultivate a Harvest of Thanksgiving

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It is good to give thanks to the Lord!

Peaches or pumpkin? Summer or fall? Fireworks or Jack o’ lanterns? I’m a peach summer girl all the way. Lighting up the sky on the Fourth of July amazes me. Satanic things like faces carved into pumpkins creep me out. So, instead, I focus on gratitude all through the fall.

With enough whipped creme, I can thank God for vegetable pie instead of juicy, sweet peaches. And since there’s absolutely nothing hollowed (holy) about Halloween, it’s time to decorate my dining room table with a cornucopia and hang a posterboard on the wall to record the many things I am thankful for each day. Like my friend, Judy who loves sunflowers because they turn their faces to the sun, I want the sunflowers that light up fall to remind me to turn my attention the Son of God.

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For me, Thanksgiving isn’t just a day. In my home—it’s an entire season. Isn’t a full season of gratitude a marvelous way to usher in the Christmas season? Count down time; tomorrow is two months until Christmas. So, my encouragement to you as the days grow darker and colder, let’s turn our faces to the Lord and give thanks. Let’s sow an abundant harvest of gratitude for all the Lord has, is, and will do. Jesus came, and He’s coming again!

Drained

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Help, I’m going down!

Where do rhythms of grace go when life swirls like a tempest? Too many activities. Too much travel. Too much pain. Sometimes life is too much. Jesus calls out to us, “Come unto me all you who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28).

Jesus’ promised rest isn’t a simple nap, coffee break, or vacation. It’s a supernatural ability to remain rested as we work. And sometimes, the work He leads us into drains us.

When I feel drained, I’m learning to let the Holy Water—the Spirit of God—carry me down. All the way. To the bottom. The end of myself.

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In 1 Kings chapter 19, we find Elijah completely drained after he battled it out with the priests of Baal. Full of fear, the prophet who acted fearlessly the day before ran for his life and hid from Jezebel. Like the late great NFL coach, Vince Lombardi said, “Fatigue makes cowards of us all.”

The Lord let Elijah sleep and sent an angel with a take-out order to feed the exhausted prophet. Then, the Lord sent him on another draining task. “Take a hike,” God told Elijah, “to Mount Hroeb,” the Mountain of God.

There, God addresses Elijah’s deep discouragement. Elijah wails pitifully, “I alone am left.” Can you relate? “No one understands.” “I’m the only one who cares about _________(fill in the blank: widows, orphans, the lost).” “No one else is doing the work or suffering like me.” We all feel defeated and alone in our faith at times.

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So, the Lord washes Eijah with more overwhelming circumstances: a whirlwind, an earthquake, and a fire. You see, Elijah was still hanging onto his own effort and self-importance. The Lord needed Elijah drained so he would stop listening to the lies in his head.

I’ve traveled far more this year than usual; I’m road-weary. I thought my last trip would be the last for this year. Bill and I attended the Refresh Retreat (an annual event in Connon Beach, OR, for people in full-time ministry). We also went To Washington to see our daughter and her family. We traveled by plane or car for four out of the five days we blocked out for this trip. We drove eight hours between Washinton and Oregon.

I’m glad I could go. I’m thankful for the two nights and one day I had at the retreat to reconnect with good friends and walk the beach. However, the whole experience felt more draining than refreshing. When I returned home, I breathed a sigh of relief. It’s time to get on my face and seek the Lord. I’m empty. I’m done. I’m drained.

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So, I mark a date on my calendar for fasting and prayer. Then, a rip tide pulled me under, deeper down the drain. My daughter called me; she needs me to make another trip to Arizona to help my uncle move to Houston, Texas, another state I’ve already been to in the past six months. In the emotional somersaults of my soul, I don’t even know where the bottom is. But I know if I could just settle there, it would give me time to look for the still tiny bubbles of God’s breath. Then, I will see the way up.

The way up is never our way. Jesus is the Way. When we think we’re running on empty—we may not be empty enough. The rhythm of grace draws us to the bottom and leaves us there until we listen quietly. And when we listen, we discover we were never alone. God calls others to join us in His work. He’s not finished with us; if we’re still here, it’s because we have unfinished work to complete. Elijah needed to climb down the mountain and join the other servants of God. He needed to

enlist and train his replacement, Elisha. We, too, are commissioned to “Go and make disciples.” The work doesn’t end just because we feel depleted. Depletion is part of our completion.

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So, when life is too, too much, let go. Let’s fall flat on our faces. Go down the Holy Spirit’s drain. Sleep. Eat. And most importantly, listen through the noise for God’s still quiet voice.

Let’s confess our self-pity, our vain aspirations, our striving to prove ourselves. All of this misspent energy has a valuable purpose in God’s plan—to make an end of us. God wants to refill us into a channel for His love and mercy. Be encouraged; we are never alone. Let’s listen for God’s gentle call. He’s happy to be our buoyancy if we just let Him float our boat.

Drained isn’t dead. It’s a readiness for refilling.

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False Perceptions Reveal Our Need for Grace

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Learning Not to Judge

I sat with the mourners as we listened to epitaphs from the departed woman’s children and grandchildren. I’ll call her Agnes. They weren’t describing the woman I thought I knew, but the speakers had known Agnes their whole lives. I had only caught a glimpse of her in her last decade.

When Agnes and I visited before and after church services, her tone was pleasant and polite. On one encounter in the church foyer, she complained about new worship songs and lamented that we didn’t sing more hymns. Our church sings plenty of old hymns—as well as new songs. I gently reminded her that Scripture encourages us to sing new songs. Then I asked Agnes if she enjoyed having her teenage grandsons worship every Sunday with her. She did. “Do you suppose they enjoy the new music?” I asked, hoping to encourage her to see the value of our blended worship music. She acknowledged her grandsons did enjoy the new songs.

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I don’t know if my comments helped. I do know Agnes never complained to me again. That conversation tainted my perception of this dear sister. I perceived her as out of touch and frustrated with changing times. Sometimes, I noticed Agnes’ confusion and heard on good authority she had dementia. During the ten years of our acquaintance, her mind was physically deteriorating.

I accessed this woman’s character during the most brutal years of her life. I saw Agnes at her worst and wrongly assumed things that were not true of her. I wonder if others have done the same to me.

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This summer, I attended a writers’ conference and battled insomnia the whole time. By day three of a four-day event, I was running on a meager total of six hours of sleep. My already defective social filter broke down. I said hurtful things and rubbed people the wrong way. I confessed sin to those I knew I had injured, but I wonder how many will ever give me a second chance.

These two experiences remind me that I owe people the grace that I desire from them. I don’t want character assessments on my worst day. When someone ruffles me, I need to learn to assume the best about them; that’s the Apostal Paul’s admonition to us in 1 Corinthians 13:4 – 7.

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth.Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” (italics mine)

When I am inflexible on my first and even second opinions of others, when I deem them unpleasant and refuse to give them other chances to change my mind, I am judging. And even if someone constantly rubs us the wrong way, we still owe them love and grace.

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“Owe no one anything, except to love each other, for the one who loves another has fulfilled the law.” Roman’s 13:8

I’m so glad I attended that funeral. God corrected my opinion of Agnes. He reminded me how much we all need grace. If Jesus loves the whole world, shouldn’t that be our aim too?

Let’s learn to extend to everyone the grace we desperately need on our worst days and even our best.

Diving In

By guest blogger Dana C. Krueger, PhD.

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Fear Bravely! Go for it!

I’m blessed with brilliant sisters in Christ. As I shared my travel/ blogging dilemma with Dana Krueger, she suggested I recruit guest bloggers when my schedule is demanding. I asked if she’d be willing to contribute to my blog, and she agreed. I know you will enjoy Dr. Krueger’s encouraging words to move into the challenge God has set before you bravely.

I leaned over and told my ten-year-old friend that I was now committed as she took her place in line behind me.

My heart pounded harder as I slowly ascended each step of the high dive.  I remembered climbing ladders without this apprehension.   What was scarier about this vertical ascent?  I reached the top and began to walk to the edge of the diving board, holding on securely to the silver railings with both hands.  I looked down at the man in the water who had jumped before me as he swam to the side and then to the lifeguard.  My nearsighted eyes didn’t see the head on the red swimsuit nod or give any indication that I may proceed.  Perhaps it was okay for me to stall? The blurry figure in the water climbed out of the pool.

Another step.  I let go of the railings.  The board wobbled.  My feet neared the edge.  Again, I looked down, seeing only a vague blur of blue with absolutely no sense of distance or depth.  Was it safe?  I knew it was, but what if I landed badly (not “look like an idiot” badly but “knock the wind out of this 45-year-old woman with a face-forward belly flop” badly)?  I felt the breeze and another wobble.  My breath caught in my chest. 

My friend was behind me somewhere (I didn’t dare look!), patiently waiting her turn, so I knew I couldn’t back out.  I didn’t really want to, even though I didn’t feel eager to jump. Okay, I was somewhat terrified to jump, and if she wasn’t there, I may have turned around.  But she was there, and I had decided.

I decided.

I stepped off the board.

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Another year of homeschooling is approaching.  I’m in that same place, at the edge of the diving board, not knowing what’s below, heart thumping in my chest, and a very real inclination to turn back.  Perhaps I can see barriers more clearly than my blurred vision from high above the pool.  I know well the sounds of tantrums over a challenging subject or assignment, the sibling squabbles, my own struggles with diligence and distractions.  I can’t distinguish the depth or distance of the challenges ahead this year, with a pre-teen daughter, a preschooler, three dear kiddos in between, a swirl of curriculum choices, and the pulls of many other responsibilities.  My breath catches in my chest.  The fear of going forward is real.  The fear of failure is great.  Is it safe?  Can I do this?  Really do this?

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I need a strong sense of calling to take that next step, to even set a start date that I will commit to.  I need a friend by my side to keep me from turning back.  I need to count the cost, moving forward even though there is that chance that I will fall flat on my face (again) and that it will be okay because God’s grace is sufficient, and His power is made perfect in weakness (2 Cor. 12:9).  I need to remember the many times the Lord has provided for, encouraged, humbled, and held me as I stepped forward in obedience.  I need to prioritize school in a way I haven’t done before.  I must simply decide and take that step off the ledge, trusting Him. 

I have decided.

Back to the pool

I hit the water with a gentle splash without too much water going up my nose.  I swam to the side of the pool, exhilarated and feeling like I had conquered something inside me.  (After all, last year, without anyone behind me, I climbed back down the ladder on my last trip to the pool.) 

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Returning to the homeschool challenge

A gracious friend handed me a box packed with old curriculum guides and many books to let me school alongside her, providing accountability and giving our kids common books to discuss.  The Lord has provided a job for me that will allow me to buy the needed books that we weren’t able to purchase even a few years ago.  That strong calling is there as I see the need to disciple my children and desire to teach them well and joyfully explore with them.  

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I’m not in a place where I feel I can dive into the pool or teaching or most things with complete confidence and without fear.  I hope to get there, but now?  Now I can hold my breath and jump.  I can walk off that board in surrender and faith, knowing that, while it may not be entirely safe, my Jesus is there.  I can fear bravely, knowing how worthy He is, and take that step.

What current challenge frightens you? Let’s prayerfully, fearfully, be brave, and move forward together!

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Here goes!

Vulnerabili*tea

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vuln*er*a*bili*tea /ˌvəl-n(ə-)rə-ˈbi-lə-tē / noun 1. the quality or state of being exposed to the possibility of being attacked or harmed, either physically or emotionally while self-medicating with a cup of chamomile.

People with life-threatening injuries and illnesses are acutely aware of something that most of us forget—human frailty. Our bodies and minds are resilient and fragile, strong and weak, shielded and vulnerable—what a fantastic paradox we are—like ceramic pots.

My daughter Anna brought back gifts from Costa Rica, including some “indestructible” pots. The street merchant banged them against his table to demonstrate the strength of his merchandise. An excited Anna explained his sales pitch and struck one on a table; it cracked.

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Patsy Clairemont describes herself as a cracked pot and invites us to be honest and acknowledge that we’re broken too. Sin makes cracked pots of us all. In Scripture, we read, “But we have this treasure in earthen vessels, that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us.” (2 Corinthians 4:7). God gets more glory working through our weaknesses than through our strengths. He wants us to hide in Him because we are so vulnerable. And our ancient foe likes knocking cracked pots off the shelf because he wants to break us and extinguish the Light.

I recently attended a large writers’ conference and found myself battling insomnia. Each night of the meeting, I slept 3 hours or less; by day three, I was well aware of my frailty.

I’m a thick-skinned, transparent extrovert, and without any filter, I can be flat-out obnoxious. My unbridled tongue kept sparking wildfires because I am not a perfect woman (James 3:2, 5 – 6). I didn’t mean to be unkind with my words. I don’t intentionally hurt people, but without enough sleep to be fully alert, Satan had a heyday with me and offend people I did.

I praise God that He knows my frame. He gets that I’m a dirt clod, and He faithfully picks me up and cleanses me off again and again. I love Psalm 103:10 – 14.

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“He has not treated us as our sins deserve or paid us back for our offenses,
His mercy toward those who fear him is as far above earth as heaven.
He has removed our sins from us as far as the east is from the west.

Just as a father has compassion on his children,
Adonai has compassion on those who fear him.
For he understands how we are made, he remembers that we are dust.”
(CJB)

I’m glad He remembers I’m broken and doesn’t give up on repairing me. We must be mindful—whether we feel fragile or not—we are. Our first parents were vulnerable to Satan’s attacks in a perfect paradise even though God was a breath away. He’s still a breath away. Let’s learn to call on Him; depend on Him.

Most of all, remember that the annoying person in the room is just as vulnerable as us. Let’s be gracious to each other. In the Gospels, we learn Jesus instructed the disciples to buy swords. They told Jesus they had two, and He said that would do. Peter brought one along to the garden of Gethsemane and hacked the ear off the High Priest’s servant defending Jesus. Like Peter, we often confuse when to act and speak with when to restrain ourselves. Just like Jesus healed the soldier’s ear and told Peter to put the sword away, I trust Him to heal the ears and hearts of those I hurt.

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Jesus can fix all the problems cracked pots and ailing people make. In our vulnerability, He still loves us and continues to grow and use us. I love this acronym P.B.P.G.I.F.W.M.Y. on a button I received at a Bill Gothard seminar in the 1980s. It stands for please, be patient; God isn’t finished with me yet. So, I’m drinking chamomile to be calm because Jesus will carry on!