What Does Courage Look Like Now?

What Does Courage Look Like Now?

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Over a decade ago I sat in front of my computer staring at a blank screen, trying to decide what to say. Finally, the words came to me, and I wrote, “Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.”

I’d spent the last few months dreaming and planning with my (in)courage co-founder Stephanie Bryant and now the site was almost ready to launch. We’d spent many hours praying and imagining what this community could become. Back then we talked about it like God’s beach house — a place where you could put your sandy, dirty feet on the table, laugh late into the night with your friends, and hear God’s voice perhaps clearer than anywhere else.

We’d reached out to writers and invited them to be part of the adventure. The yes responses had enthusiastically come in, much to our amazement. Now on this particular day, I was crafting a letter to the original contributors to help them write their first post.

I thought a lot about what I wanted to say to them. Most publications back then were still telling their writers to hold back, sound the same, don’t share too much or get too personal. But that’s not what I sensed God wanted from us. So instead of rules and guidelines, I told them, “Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.”

That line became one that we repeated to each other through the years. DaySpring recently created a journal with that quote on the cover. It’s sitting on my desk now and with all that’s going on in our world, I’m thinking again about what courage really means — not just for writers but for all of us.

Be courageous and write in a way that scares you a little.

When I said “be courageous” over a decade ago, I meant dare to put yourself out there. What does that mean now when life looks like social distancing and staying at home? Thankfully, I don’t think walls get in the way of courage. Even if we can’t open the door to our homes, we can still open the door to our hearts. Even if we can’t go the places we want to, we can still go where we’re called. Even if we can’t get together, we can stick together.

I first wrote those words to writers, but I’d like to say them to all of us today. Just change the phrase to what it looks like for you now.

Be courageous and help in a way that scares you a little.

Be courageous and parent in a way that scares you a little.

Be courageous and work in a way that scares you a little.

The reality is we’re all afraid right now. But there’s more than one kind of fear. There’s the kind that comes from external circumstances, like COVID-19. But there’s also the kind of fear that we experience when we choose bravery, when we do hard things, when we discover an inner strength we didn’t know we had. I want us to embrace that kind of fear.

Why?

Because people need what you have to offer more than ever before.

Even if you can’t change all the world’s problems, you can still change one life at a time.

And if you do just one small, unseen thing, it’s still enough to make a difference.

I extended an invitation to the original writers of (in)courage all those years ago. I’m extending a similar invitation to you, the (in)courage community, today:

Let’s be courageous and love in a way that scares us a little.

Are you with me?

Holley loves helping writers so she created a course, Be a Kick-Butt Writer by Friday, to give you clarity, confidence, and courage. The world needs your words of hope and encouragement more than ever before.

 

[bctt tweet=”Even if you can’t change all the world’s problems, you can still change one life at a time. Let’s be courageous and love in a way that scares us a little. – @holleygerth” username=”incourage”]

The One Thing You’ve Got to Know If You Messed Up

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Six new baby kittens were born on our Iowa farm, down in the shed, next to an old TV set that hasn’t worked in years.

I like to think of our newborn kittens as accidental therapists. I’m often in need of a mood adjustment, so I come out to the shed several times a day and creak open the door, certain that I’ll find my smile somewhere inside. Kittens are great perspective shifters, living in the moment as they do — always chasing the fun or plotting mischief, with food breaks in between.

As much as I enjoy our kittens, they inevitably bring a mix of frustration and heartache to my life.

First, the frustration.

While impossibly cute, kittens are also furry little goblins with zero etiquette and a high sense of self. They knock things off the shelves of the shed. They ignore my stellar pet-parenting. Yesterday, a kitten named Dave peed in the cat food, even though I’d specifically trained him to use the litter box.

Second, these kittens bring heartache. Quite often, a kitten will mysteriously fail to grow. It will wander off to a corner, curl into a ball, seal its eyes shut, and die. We’ve been on this farm for nearly two decades now, and every kitten holds a bit of my heart. There are always tears when we dig tiny graves for tiny animals.

Still, I love these kittens – with a reckless, unreasonable love – even though I know they will break my heart. Even though I know they’ll misbehave. Even though they act like they don’t need me. Even though they think they are little gods running the show.

The other day, as I was walking back up the hill from the kittens’ shed to our house, a truth bomb dropped into the center of my soul. It felt as if God were talking right to me with these words: “Now you know how I feel.”

I couldn’t get over the truth of it, rolling over me with a ferocious and holy warmth. I couldn’t get over how God just keeps on loving us like He does, how He actually enjoys us, how He creaks open the door of our lives, and in some weird way, He actually delights in us.

I mean, here we are – people who routinely break His heart. We surely frustrate Him. We think we are little gods running the show. We misbehave.

But He keeps on creaking the door open, keeps on loving us.

That’s the one thing we’ve all got to know if we’ve messed up lately.

In the book of Romans, the Apostle Paul makes a long list of things that, on their face, look like the sorts of things that would keep us from receiving the love of God: sin, trouble. Highs, lows. The thinkable and the unthinkable. But Paul writes, “Absolutely nothing can get between us and God’s love because of the way that Jesus our Master has embraced us” (Romans 8:39 MSG).

The most liberating truth in all the universe is this: Jesus is absurdly and ravenously in love with us. He is for us.

He is for you!

You might turn your back on Him, change your mind about Him, stomp your feet at Him, or run away from Him. But He will never, ever leave your side.

You might fall, stumble, trip, fumble, sin, grumble, and make a general mess of things. But He can’t not love you.

He made a way back, a way up, a way out, and a way in. He came for you, all the way to Earth to rescue you. And He’s not giving up on you now.

Stand with me in this moment, on that patch of grass between the house and the kittens’ shed, with the sun warming our backs. And let God drop that truth into your heart. Hear Him tell you how He loves you with a reckless love.

And nothing, absolutely nothing, can stand in the way of it.

 

[bctt tweet=”Look for the signs of His love for you and hear Him tell you how He loves you with a reckless love. -@dukeslee:” username=”incourage”]

Darkness Is Not Dark to You, God

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You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me.
Psalm 139:5 (NIV)

When our children wake up in terror at night over a bad dream, when death comes to take our loved ones away, when depression overwhelms like a heavy blanket, we want to be held. We want to have someone rub our backs and hold our hands. It’s a comfort to be surrounded by love, to be known and understood without having to explain ourselves.

Psalm 139 is full of those promises — that before we even speak, God knows our thoughts and hearts (v. 1-6), that no matter where we go, God’s Spirit is with us (v. 7-10), and that darkness will not swallow us up because darkness is like light to God (v. 11-12).

Perhaps you’re there right now, walking through an endless tunnel with no light at the end. Take heart and hold onto this promise today: Even in the darkest places, God knows me fully and is with me completely.

 

[bctt tweet=”Hold onto this promise today: Even in the darkest places, God knows me fully and is with me completely. #promiseoverpanic” username=”incourage”]

Where Do We Go From Here?

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Sadness. Anger. Heaviness. Confusion. Fatigue. This is what we’ve been feeling recently. This is what we’ve been hearing when we ask friends how they’re doing. Processing what’s happening in our world right now isn’t easy, and we’re guessing you’re wading through a tumultuous sea of emotions too.

For many of us, there’s also a feeling of helplessness. What should I do now? Where do we go from here?

Two weeks ago, five women from our (in)courage staff and writing team gathered to process together recent events and the deep-rooted history of injustice in our country. If you missed that community conversation, watch it below (or click here for a closed caption version). We know you’ll be encouraged!

Since then, we — your (in)courage staff and writers — have been listening, reading, learning, and lamenting. We’ve been asking each other hard questions and sharing our collective experiences to help one another. We’ve been praying, wrestling, examining our own hearts, minds, and lives. For some of us, that looks like taking steps to raise awareness or to heal our own racial trauma. For others, that looks like growing in our understanding of the trauma and prejudice we’ve never had to endure.

We are all asking God for help to be willing and ready to do what we need to do.
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But this is not the work of one or two weeks. Racism in America won’t change because people hold a sign or have one hard conversation or post a black square on social media.⁣
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We’ve got to keep leaning in and asking God to give us eyes that see, ears that hear, and hearts ready to do the hard work of undoing prejudices and racism in our own hearts, our families, our communities, our churches, and our country.

Here at (in)courage, not all of us are experts in anti-racism education or racial justice, but we are sisters in Christ willing to link arms. We want to continue listening when it’s uncomfortable, learning when it’s hard, and seeking to love a little more like Jesus every day.

We also wanted to share with you a collection of resources that are helping us in the process. 

Find our list of anti-racism resources here.

This collection has been gathered by the (in)courage contributors. It is certainly not an exhaustive list. There are SO many good, helpful, needed resources and voices out there. We encourage you to do your own research too. But if you’re asking yourself, Where do I go from here?, we hope you find these resources as starting points for your learning.

We’re all on different parts of the journey. The way forward is not a one-size-fits-all solution, but together we can cling to this promise:

He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way.
Psalm 25:9 (NIV)

Though we rightly feel sad, angry, confused, and weary, we are also women of courage! We are committed, resilient, hopeful, and surrendered. We are prayer-warriors and difference-makers, so let’s pray this prayer together:

Lord, help us.
Lord, make us humble.
Lord, teach us your way.
Lord, let it begin with me.

 

[bctt tweet=”Our prayer for this journey: Lord, help us. Lord, make us humble. Lord, teach us your way. Lord, let it begin with me.” username=”incourage”]

How Long, Lord? How Long?

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How long, Lord? Will you forget me forever?
How long will you hide your face from me?
How long must I wrestle with my thoughts
and day after day have sorrow in my heart?
How long will my enemy triumph over me?
Look on me and answer, Lord my God.
Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death,
and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”
and my foes will rejoice when I fall.
But I trust in your unfailing love;
my heart rejoices in your salvation.
I will sing the Lord’s praise,
for he has been good to me.
Psalm 13 (NIV)

Do you hear the despair in David’s prayer? The agony and longing? The exhaustion and pain? And perhaps you’re there too — at the end of yourself, with no energy left in your bones. It might even feel like too much to pray, and all you can do is lean into the groans of the Spirit to hold you up.

When you have no more words to say, when all you can utter is “How long, Lord?”, when the impossible stays impossible, let’s surround one another and be carried by each other’s prayers. Today, let’s ask for God’s mercy and help together.

How can we pray for you?

Please leave a prayer request in the comments and then pray for the person who commented before you.

 

[bctt tweet=”When all we can utter is ‘How long, Lord?’, when the impossible stays impossible, let’s surround one another and be carried by each other’s prayers.” username=”incourage”]

What Esther Teaches Us About Standing Up to Racism

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This past week a memorial service was held for George Floyd, a forty-six-year-old image bearer of God, who died after a police officer put a knee to his neck for almost nine minutes while he was handcuffed face down.

Friends and neighbors affirmed that “Big Floyd” was a man of God with a heart of mercy for the most vulnerable. Floyd’s death has quickly become a symbol in our country of police brutality and racial injustice.

My heart grieves for his family, especially his six-year-old daughter, who will grow up without her daddy. I can’t help but think about my own three daughters who buried their daddy in a very different context when they were two, five, and eight. Our family knows the grief journey well.

My heart aches over the injustice and racism that continues to pervade our country decades after the civil rights movement. This triggers my own experiences of racism as a woman of color. I can never fully understand, but I feel deeply for my Black brothers and sisters who have repeatedly been treated as less than.

My heart burns with lament and questions: “How long, O Lord? What should we do?”

I find myself searching the pages of Scripture for guidance. The story of Esther is one of those stories that has often inspired me to step out of my comfort zone and take courageous steps. However, it wasn’t until recently that I realized Esther’s story provides a model for all of us on how to respond specifically to racism.

Esther was an orphan, a Jewish girl mentored and raised by her older cousin Mordecai. Despite her humble background, God provided a platform and position that enabled Esther to raise her voice during an important moment in history.

Esther is taken into the palace to be a part of the king’s harem. Because of her beauty and her character, the young Esther wins the king’s approval and is chosen as queen. Following Mordecai’s advice, she keeps her birthplace and ethnic background a secret.

While in the palace, the king’s highest adviser, Haman, unfolds a plot to annihilate all the Jews. Haman’s racism against the Jews festers and grows. He finally convinces the king that it’s in the king’s best interest to destroy all of the Jews throughout the kingdom.

When Mordecai receives word of this decree to kill all the Jews, he immediately goes into mourning and lament. He sends a rally cry to Queen Esther and urges her to approach the king and beg for the lives of her people.

Let’s reflect on five ways Esther responded to this decree and Haman’s racism:

First, Esther took time for prayer and fasting. The text tells us that she battled fear (Esther 4:4), but she took it to God. She was not reactionary but moved intentionally to prayer before moving forward.

Second, Esther gathered community. She urged Mordecai to assemble the Jews and to have them fast and pray with her (Esther 4:16). The Jews in Susa and her female attendants joined her in corporate fasting. She did not act by herself but rather leaned on others to gain spiritual strength.

Third, Esther stepped out of her own comfort and safety to take strategic action. She was not allowed to approach the king in the inner court unless she was summoned. The penalty would have been death for her, but she decided to pursue the king anyway. She risked her own life for the greater good (Esther 5).

Fourth, Esther spoke truth to the king and Haman. She could have chosen to keep quiet and to hide her heritage, but she decided to speak up for her people. She used hospitality to appeal to the king and Haman her enemy by inviting them to a banquet. At the table, she revealed her ethnicity and the predicament of the Jews (Esther 7:3-4).

Fifth, Esther leveraged her platform and position for the sake of others. Esther had a special role as a beloved queen. She had the ear and favor of King Xerxes. This privilege opened the door for her to expose Haman’s racism and ultimately save the Jews.

Friend, every one of us is uniquely designed and equipped to stand up for justice. God has given you a circle of influence and a voice that can be used in this world for His glory and to help others flourish. 

Who knows, perhaps you have come to your royal position for such a time as this.
Esther 4:14 (CSB)

We can learn from Esther’s response when she faced racism. She was deliberate, not reactionary. She did not give into pressure. Instead, she went before God and allowed Him to guide her steps. Esther was an ordinary woman whom God used in an extraordinary way because of her willingness to obey His leading. She was an ambassador for justice for the vulnerable.

There is no guidebook or five-step plan to what we are all facing today, but we can go to prayer and God’s Word to seek wisdom and discernment. Esther’s story reminds us we must start with prayer before we move to response and action.

When we take time for personal reflection, the Holy Spirit can reveal our next steps. That may look different for each one of us. God might call us to use our voices to write or speak up. He may call us to do some deep work learning about our own ethnic identities and racist tendencies. He may call us to march or sign petitions or seek ways to reform our country’s systems. He may call us to care for those who are suffering.

In the quiet and in community, Esther cultivated courage and confidence for what was ahead. The name Esther means star in Hebrew. May we all be like Esther and collectively light up the night sky.

What response is God calling you to “for such a time as this”?

 

Dorina has a new devotional book, Walk, Run, Soar, that will be released in Fall 2020. Sign up for her Glorygram here and get all the insider details about this exciting new project!

 

[bctt tweet=”Every one of us is uniquely designed and equipped to stand up for justice. #antiracism #racialjustice -@dorinagilmore:” username=”incourage”]

Regaining Your Sense of Peace

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I’m almost embarrassed to admit what prompted me to set foot in a grocery store again after two months of home delivery. It wasn’t increased feelings of security about entering public places or statistics about a decrease in COVID-19 cases in my area. 

It was queso — pure and simple. 

The queso my family loves doesn’t appear on Costco’s site for home delivery, and believe me, I check every time I place an order. It was when my desire for queso overwhelmed my fear of going into the store that I put on the required mask (my first time) and ventured inside for the hour before closing on a Friday night.

What did I find? More queso than I’d ever seen on the shelf (I tried to explain to a passing employee that this was because it wasn’t available for home delivery) and a stronger sense of peace than I would have thought possible a month or two ago. 

I roamed the store looking for special treats for my teens. I restocked the ice cream bars I’d become fond of in the last month. I bought plants for the small raised bed my children and husband built for me on Mother’s Day. 

I spoke to everyone because it made me sad the last time I was here when people seemed afraid of each other. 

The mask kept me from touching my face (which seems to be a problem for most of us), but I removed it as I walked out of the store. I’m careful, but I no longer clean our groceries like a surgeon sterilizing scalpels before an operation.

Regaining my sense of peace has come slowly, bit by bit, in stages. It began on the night I wrote about in my last post, when I had done everything I could and knew it was time to trust God to do the rest.

Recently I spent a spring afternoon sitting on the screened back porch of a friend’s new house. She moved the week before everything started shutting down and was ready to spend some time with friends. Four of us had a lovely afternoon of laughter and face-to-face conversation in place of the active Marco Polo app chat we had relied on recently. 

The next week those friends and I began a Bible study and also my regular book club met, both on the same day. That weekend my husband and I and our three teens gathered with three of our older children and their children, my sister and niece. It felt good to be with our people again. 

When my teens wanted to visit one of our older sons and his family, who live two states away, I realized out-of-state travel was still beyond my comfort zone. Eating in the car is one thing, but how easy would it be to find a bathroom? We met in the state between us and although I was anxious in the beginning, we always had access to what we needed. By the end of the trip, I’d regained a little more of the peace my spirit craved. 

Each step — increased trust in God, time spent with friends and family, traveling further from home — has subdued my unease and helped to restore my calm.  

I don’t live in a bubble or doubt the virus is real. My mother-in-law had it and has recovered and an employee at the manufacturing facility my husband manages tested positive and has now tested negative.

I think God expects us to use the good sense He gave us — I take vitamins, try to boost my immune system and protect my gut health, avoid large crowds, and sanitize my hands when needed — but His Word reminds me He doesn’t intend for us to live in fear.

I may not escape COVID-19, but I refuse to be enslaved by the fear of it. 

For God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind.
2 Timothy 1:7 (KJV)

How are you now and how has your outlook on COVID-19 changed with time?

 

[bctt tweet=”God’s Word reminds us He doesn’t intend for us to live in fear. -@DawnMHSH:” username=”incourage”]

When I Doubt My True Worth, Lord Remind Me

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My friend had dropped off a little orchid plant for me. It’s so tiny, the vase and plant only stand seven inches tall.

I’ve never bought orchids for myself before, so I was amazed seeing how the petals just stay open and don’t fall off like they do on peonies or roses I usually get.

“Look, guys!” I said to my husband and two boys, eleven and fourteen. “I’ve never seen flowers blooms last so long!”

“Are you sure it’s real?” my husband said, taking a closer look. “It’s too perfect.”

“Yeah!” my two boys chimed in. They went over to gently touch the plant to confirm it. “The petals . . . the stem . . . too smooth. It’s plastic!”

“No,” I protested. “They’re real!” But to no avail. They boys were convinced it was fake.

I looked closer and finally found something to prove these orchids were, in fact, living and organic. “Look here,” I pointed to a spot on one leaf that wasn’t so easily seen. “It’s nicked here. You see, it is real. They would never put a flaw in something fake they would sell.”

The flaw was proof that it was indeed real.

Let’s remind ourselves of this truth. Because when I bump up against my worries, anxieties, or imperfections, which are showing up often during these extreme shelter-in-place conditions, I can forget that God makes beautiful things out of us.

God doesn’t call us to sell a fake gospel but to tell a living, organic story of how we are loved just as we are. Our flaws bring us closer to others who need to know that God is with us in the brokenness and even in our hiding.

I recently visited the party store to get some balloons for my son’s birthday. His party was canceled due to COVID-19, and I wanted to do something to cheer him up.

When I got to the store, there was no one there except for the young woman behind the counter. I asked her what colors she’d recommend for “instant happy,” and as we picked some together, I asked how she was doing with the coronavirus challenges and what helped her to feel better.

“I love to read,” she said. She shared how she was reading The Diary of Anne Frank, and when I asked why, she answered, “She inspires me because she chose to live with hope, hiding for years though she was facing death everyday.”

I sensed a story behind her words, so I shared something vulnerable, something that once made me feel flawed. “You know, I’m not Anne Frank, but I do understand hiding. When you doubt your worth. When I was growing up, I hid my heart in order to survive, to be strong. It was the only way to get through an emotionally traumatic childhood. I hid my heart.”

Her eyes began to well up, emotions speaking a thousand words as her beautiful face broke into a flow of tears. As we cried together, I asked for the story behind her tears, and she shared about her hard times as a single mom to her daughter. I listened and shared how God helped me learn to stop hiding my heart.

I gently reassured her, “You are worth loving. You are worth everything good and  beautiful. God loves you so much. You are precious to Him.” I asked if I could pray for her, and we stood there in the party store, two strangers now connected by our vulnerability, our flaws.

Friends, everything hard you’re going through isn’t wasted. The suffering you are enduring will be the loving bridge for others to experience God’s peace and rest. 

So, don’t hide your scars from others during these times of trial and suffering. It’s our flaws that invite others to share their stories and know that God’s love is real and unconditional. Jesus Himself resurrected with visible scars, and it was the one thing that convinced Thomas He was real, even more than His words.

So, when you feel isolated and discouraged, when you feel like your flaws should be hidden from others, know that you are beautiful in God’s eyes.

Lord, when I doubt my worth, remind me that when I can’t see ahead, I can trust You. When I feel afraid, I have a friend in You. My flaws are beautiful to you, and they show the world how much You love me. Thank You that my suffering is not wasted and that You will use it all for Your glory. Amen.

How is God reminding you of His love for you?

For more reminders of God’s love for you, sign up for my Beloved Newsletter (here). To encourage your heart, listen to my podcast The Toll of Stress & How You Can Stress Less (here). Subscribe to Bonnie’s Coffee Break For Your  Soul podcast on iTunes, Spotify or listen here.  Join the newsletter here.

[bctt tweet=”The suffering you are enduring will be the loving bridge for others to experience God’s peace and rest. -@TheBonnieGray:” username=”incourage”]

In Uncertainty, Trust the Prince of Peace

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You will keep in perfect peace
all who trust in you,
all whose thoughts are fixed on you!
Isaiah 26:3 (NLT)

Summer is around the corner. We may have been planning trips or weddings or vacations that are no longer happening, and restlessness might be making our souls itch. Beyond summer, we might be looking at fall, wondering if school’s will be back in session, if life will feel somewhat normal again.

Nothing is certain. Everything is still a stormy swirl. In the nausea, we need to hold onto something firm, steady, grounding. We need an anchor to keep us steady when we feel like we’ll be swept away by the overwhelming waves. When worries and stressful concerns crowd your mind, take a deep breath and think on Jesus, the Prince of Peace.

Trust Him and hold onto this promise today: God is an anchor of peace when nothing seems certain.

 

[bctt tweet=”Trust Him and hold onto this promise today: God is an anchor of peace when nothing seems certain.” username=”incourage”]

When You Long for One Real Friend

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My husband swept the side patio as I hung four little lanterns on the cinderblock wall. I positioned four chairs in an evenly spaced square, marking the distance with my feet. Yes, that should be just fine. As the sun began to set, I plugged in a string of Edison bulb lights. The instant glow was like a warm welcome.

I could hardly contain my excitement.

I went inside and tucked my three boys in bed. “Can’t we stay up?” they begged. “We miss our friends too.”

“I know you do,” I said. “But this is just for the ladies.”

I grabbed a La Croix from the fridge and headed back outside. It was just cool enough to not be stifling and if a breeze picked up I might’ve even needed a sweater. I propped open the side gate, sat down, and sighed with joyful anticipation.

One by one, I heard the crunch of gravel and three beautiful friends emerged from the darkness. We air hugged, which was so weird. But we were happy to embrace the weirdness in exchange for stealing a little time together. It had been weeks since we had seen or had a face-to-face conversation (not through a screen) with someone outside our immediate families. Of course, we loved our husbands and children – but there’s a kind of soul nourishment that comes from being seen and understood by a friend.

Earlier in the day I texted my neighbor to give them a heads up about my planned (socially distanced) outdoor gathering. When the four of us girls get together, let’s just say the volume level is hard to contain. Our delight over sharing ridiculous stories always leads to the best kind of make-your-sides-ache hilarity.

I needed that kind of laughter tonight.

Yet this time was different. We were elated to see one another, but our conversation was more somber. Would one friend’s husband’s new job still start as scheduled? Would our friend with the high-risk pregnancy respond to her recent treatment? Would another friend mothering three littles and battling the terror of a stubborn three-year-old with epic-level sleep regression ever sleep again?

We took turns sharing all that had transpired in our individual bubbles over the last many isolated weeks. We were all strained in different ways as mothers and wives and working women, trying to provide for the physical, emotional, and educational needs of our families.

While the hard of what we were all going through seemed to outweigh the good, the good of being together was not lost on me.

You see, these are the friends I longed for, prayed for. Years earlier I cried out to God, begging Him for just one real friend. One friend who I could share the ins and outs of motherhood with. One friend who I could be honest with about how hard marriage can be. One friend whom I didn’t have to clean up my house for or slap a blurry filter on my life and pretend that all my imperfections weren’t really there.

God answered that desperate prayer. He answered it abundantly.

The glowing lights cast happy shadows on the ground. Crickets chirped. I inhaled the sweetness of the newly blossoming star jasmine. And I remembered the sweetness of how God had brought each one of these remarkable women into my life, how He slowly, beautifully knit our hearts and lives together.

It was through these women that God also answered my fervent plea for other families to do life with. As introverts, my husband and I like being home. We like being together. I know this is a gift. But for the first decade of our marriage I also craved the kind of friends who could be our friends together. We were likable enough, but finding another couple who clicked with both of us proved difficult. It seemed like an impossible dream.

Yet God heard the longing in my heart and again He answered lavishly.

For years now we’ve gathered for monthly couples’ dinners, family camping trips, and video game nights with too much pizza and soul-medicine laughter. I can’t tell you how much I’ve learned from my friends about intentional parenting, navigating conflict, and college-day pranks. But even more their friendship has taught me about the faithfulness of God.

Friendship these days sure looks different than it used to. Here in California, we’re still practicing safer-at-home, and I don’t know when that’s going to change. I can’t wait till I can hug my friends (probably till the point it feels awkward), hold hands in prayer, and share a meal around a big table.

But in the meantime, here’s what I do know: Our hearts were made to do life together. We were made to be known, seen, and cared for by other believers. If you have that kind of friend in your life, thank God for them today! Then find a creative way to keep building that friendship. If you long for a new or deeper friendship, keeping praying for that one friend. God is listening.

 

Becky shares more about how she went from floundering along to thriving in community in her book No Better Mom for the Job. Grab a copy today and discover practical strategies for cultivating meaningful, life-together friendships.

 

[bctt tweet=”Find creative ways to keep building your friendships, even in the midst of a pandemic. #community -@beckykeife:” username=”incourage”]

God Hears the Cries in All Our Prayers

by

I grew up in the choir loft of a small Lutheran church, and my kids are doing the same.

My mom was the choir director at that small church. We spent youth group lock-in’s finding new hiding places for Sardines (the game, not tins of the fish!), learning how to operate the kitchen coffeemaker, and loving our psuedo-grandparents, whom we adored.

Now my husband is a full-time church employee. “Visiting Daddy at work” means checking out the candy at the front desk, greeting the pastors in their offices, and hanging out with Daddy’s instruments. It means sitting quietly in pews, Sunday school (but on Wednesday nights for us), and eating dinner in the fellowship hall before worship. Well, at least it did, pre-COVID days. Right now, church is on the computer propped up in the living room. But it’s still church.

Where I live in Minnesota, we have a lot of Scandinavian Lutheran folks. I love being one of them. We can belt out old hymns and put our hands together for new worship songs. We love potluck suppers and many of us make a mean hot dish. We have sweet and wild memories of youth gatherings, mission trips, church lock-ins, attending Bible camp on a lake, and playing crazy games at Wednesday night youth group. Many of the Lutherans I know are the first to lend a hand and the last to leave (probably on account of our long, drawn out, standing-in-the-parking-lot goodbyes).

Growing up in our Lutheran church also meant serving our neighbors. Our motto was God’s work, our hands. It meant loving and being loved by people of all ages, worshiping in the same space. It meant that if you asked for prayer you were added to the prayer chain, where we would pray such personal requests quietly to ourselves because we only prayed out loud before meals and bed.

In high school, I attended a Christian leadership camp. My school guidance counselor, a faith mentor to me, signed me up to attend after seeing a spark in my heart for Jesus that I didn’t yet recognize. On the first day of camp, I arrived late (no surprise to those who know me) so by the time I got there, everyone was already assembled in the auditorium, ready to kick off the weekend.

I walked in, took a seat, and God bowled me over.

The speaker up front offered to begin the weekend in prayer. He opened his mouth, and words poured out like I’d never heard before. This man prayed like Someone was actually listening, like Someone was going to answer. I had never heard prayer like that before, and my jaw actually dropped. This man was praying like he was actually being heard.

Hearing prayers spoken out loud to God in this way was literally life-changing for me. It was there, at that camp, in that room, that I prayed the prayer of salvation and learned what talking to God could be like.

Decades later, I still love to pray. Talking to God is like breathing to me, conversation with Him never-ceasing in my head and heart. I’m constantly thanking, asking, chattering, and remembering. I know sometimes we don’t always have the words to pray, and it’s in those times that I’m grateful for the Spirit’s interceding. I also love writing and including prayers in my devotionals.

“A prayer: we love you so much – have a good night, God.” Written by my then 5-year-old.

My children are learning that we can talk to God all the time about anything. My eight-year-old offers prayers that seem wise beyond his years, my six-year-old folds her still-dimpled little hands, and when my four-year-old bellows, “We need pray!”, I am ready to roll! We pray at bedtime and before meals, yes — but we also pray in the van on the way to school. We pray when there’s a problem. We pray when we are thankful. We pray when we have questions, and we write out our prayers.

My kids are praying and learning that those words, those prayers, are heard. Many aspects of prayer still perplex me, and I don’t know the answers to all of the questions my kids ask about God, but I do know and can teach them with confidence that God hears our prayers.

God hears us, in small Lutheran churches on the prairies of the Midwest. God hears us in huge mega-churches in the middle of downtown cities. God hears us in quiet, suburban living rooms. God hears us in the deepest depths of our being. God hears us. We can pray no matter the state of our hearts or where we stand. God loves hearing from us in any moment, and He hears our cries in all of them.

Over the years, the ways we pray may have changed, but the One to whom our prayers rise remains the same. Our God is the same God that walked in Eden, that flooded the earth and saved Noah, that sent His Son to be born in a manger and later took that Son home, that blinded Saul and turned his heart to Paul, that meets us today on our own roads to Damascus.

No matter where you walk today, let God hear you. Whisper a prayer, or if you simply cannot, know that God understands what’s in the silence. God hears you, right where you are.

 

[bctt tweet=”We can pray no matter the state of our hearts or where we stand. God loves hearing from us in any moment. -@annaerendell:” username=”incourage”]

Love Over All: Love Dreams

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And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, 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. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
Ephesians 3:17-21 (NIV)

Every month of 2020, we will feature the Love Over All theme verse on the first Sunday of the month. We love everything about Love Over All (read more about it here) and can’t wait to share these amazing verses and ways to live them out with you!

June’s theme is Love Dreams.

In an uncertain world, we’re constantly in survival mode. The worries of everyday living swirl in our minds: Will I have a job tomorrow? Will my family be able to get through on bare minimum? How can I make sure my kids feel safe when nothing feels safe? What should I make for dinner with what I’ve got in the fridge?

The urgency of the ordinary takes up the majority of our thoughts and our energy, and dreaming becomes a far off ideal that’s not feasible for times like these.

And yet, perhaps it’s exactly in these days that we need to tap back into our imaginations and dream of new ways to move forward as a community, as a nation, and as the Church.

God had a vision and a dream for His people since the beginning when everything fell apart in the Garden of Eden. Through slavery and exile and the crucifixion of His Son, God’s dream of redemption continued to be woven into those dark times. His promises echoed through history that He would come and deliver, that He would send a Messiah, and that all would be made well and right again one day.

This is still His dream for us and this world.

So even in the midst of the mundane, the injustice, and the constant survival mode we might find ourselves in, let’s still ask Him, “What are you up to, God?” Let’s listen and pay attention to how He’s moving, where the work of redemption is happening, and join Him in it.

Our dreams for the future may look different, but we can ask Him to do immeasurably more than we can imagine.

Lord,

Your love is deeper and wider than we can fathom, and because of Your love, we know You ache for the pain and loss of the world right now. Keep us rooted and remind us that You are still the God of the universe. You can do more than we could ever ask or imagine, and You desire for us to join You in the work of redeeming all things. Give us the imagination to dream with You when we can’t even see beyond the next day. In Your name, amen. 

 

[bctt tweet=”We need to tap back into our imaginations and dream of new ways to move forward as a community, as a nation, and as the Church. #loveoverall #lovedreams” username=”incourage”]

Five Friendship Mistakes I’ve Made
and Learned From

by

I was typing so hard the scab on the inside of my finger split open. I was crying. It was black outside and black inside. There, in the dark, there was blood dripping out on all the black letters. My keyboard was like a crime scene. The blood didn’t stop me. It fueled me. It was connecting me to my pain. I typed chaotically and frantically until all my words were hushed, and the only thing left was the slow drying red over the hole on my finger. Words sealed back up my deep wound. Never before had I felt such deep pain. After years and years, a friendship I had ended. I was experiencing heart-ripping-out rejection. Here, on my bed, with the blood and the blackness and the typing, I sobbed a desperate sort of sob.

I’ve spent most of my life dreaming of having a best friend. I wanted a friend who would never forget my birthday, save me a seat, and share her secrets with me. I wanted to be someone else’s favorite person. We would have each other’s backs and be a holy, little clique. I thought if I had a best friend, I’d be safe and feel wanted. But after several friendship breakups, friends who never called back, and friendships that slowly fizzled out, I started to see how something was wrong with the way I pursued and maintained relationships. After breaking hearts and quiet vows, I’m learning how God uses friendships in my life to draw me into a deeper friendship with Him. From pain to healing and from forgiveness to freedom, here are five mistakes I’ve made in my friendships.

1. Idolatry. I worshipped friendships. I just wanted one best friend. One. Anytime I found a friend I connected with, I used her to fill the void in my heart. I put that friend on a pedestal and that friendship became an idol I had to keep appeased, happy, and satisfied. Instead of idolizing a best friend, God invites us to put Him above any and all relationships.

2. Envy. I became easily jealous when I saw other people have friendships I wanted. Now in this age of social media, I am always aware when my friends are hanging out without me. When I scroll through images of friends hiking and brunching without me, a pang of envy pokes at my heart. Instead of letting envy spoil my soul, God invites me to pray blessings over other relationships, “God, bless their friendships. Bless them and change my heart.”

3. Comparison. As my friendships would grow in intimacy, so did my need to compete. I was always comparing myself to them. She was smart, but I was smarter. She was thinner, but I was more athletic. She was funny, but I was more popular. Comparison will poison friendships. It hurts people. Instead of comparison, God invites us to lift others up. He wants us to put others first. If relationships have any chance of surviving, we must stand on the same ground of grace.

4. Fear. I was always afraid of friendships ending and being rejected. I was nervous I wasn’t a good enough friend. I would be manipulative and dishonest because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. I would hide parts of myself that I was afraid of showing. I didn’t believe she could handle the real me, so I would conceal the truth. Instead, God invites us to step into the light. Friendships can only grow if there is honesty. 

5. Pride. I had to be right. I needed to be right. When I made mistakes, it was so hard for me to admit my wrong. I would turn the blame on others or skirt around the real issues. I didn’t take ownership for the mistakes I made. Instead, God invites us to confess. The only way to truly meaningful relationships is through confession. 

Friendships are one of God’s greatest gifts to us. When you find a good friend, your life will be forever changed. But I don’t just want to find a good friend anymore. I don’t want to stuff relationships into the void in my soul to feel okay. I don’t want envy to make me paranoid and ugly. I don’t want comparison to be what divides my friendships any longer. When I feel fear pricking my paralyzed heart, I don’t want to tell tiny white lies. I don’t want to prove myself or let pride become a shield that keeps me from seeing myself.

I want to be a good friend. I want to be a friend that sets my friends free, builds them up, cheers them on, speaks the truth, and humbly walks with them through life. God models pure friendship for us in the way He gave Himself up for us. Yes, a true friend lays down her life for another. It takes a tremendous amount of trust to love a friend this way. It requires entering the deep love and friendship of Jesus first. The way to better our friendships is to know the friendship of Jesus. I can make mistakes, cry, lose relationships, and bleed, but the friendship of Jesus will always remain faithful to me. 

 

[bctt tweet=”The way to better our friendships is to know the friendship of Jesus. -Anjuli Paschall:” username=”incourage”]

Five Friendship Mistakes I’ve Made and Learned From

by

I was typing so hard the scab on the inside of my finger split open. I was crying. It was black outside and black inside. There, in the dark, there was blood dripping out on all the black letters. My keyboard was like a crime scene. The blood didn’t stop me. It fueled me. It was connecting me to my pain. I typed chaotically and frantically until all my words were hushed, and the only thing left was the slow drying red over the hole on my finger. Words sealed back up my deep wound. Never before had I felt such deep pain. After years and years, a friendship I had ended. I was experiencing heart-ripping-out rejection. Here, on my bed, with the blood and the blackness and the typing, I sobbed a desperate sort of sob.

I’ve spent most of my life dreaming of having a best friend. I wanted a friend who would never forget my birthday, save me a seat, and share her secrets with me. I wanted to be someone else’s favorite person. We would have each other’s backs and be a holy, little clique. I thought if I had a best friend, I’d be safe and feel wanted. But after several friendship breakups, friends who never called back, and friendships that slowly fizzled out, I started to see how something was wrong with the way I pursued and maintained relationships. After breaking hearts and quiet vows, I’m learning how God uses friendships in my life to draw me into a deeper friendship with Him. From pain to healing and from forgiveness to freedom, here are five mistakes I’ve made in my friendships.

1. Idolatry. I worshipped friendships. I just wanted one best friend. One. Anytime I found a friend I connected with, I used her to fill the void in my heart. I put that friend on a pedestal and that friendship became an idol I had to keep appeased, happy, and satisfied. Instead of idolizing a best friend, God invites us to put Him above any and all relationships.

2. Envy. I became easily jealous when I saw other people have friendships I wanted. Now in this age of social media, I am always aware when my friends are hanging out without me. When I scroll through images of friends hiking and brunching without me, a pang of envy pokes at my heart. Instead of letting envy spoil my soul, God invites me to pray blessings over other relationships, “God, bless their friendships. Bless them and change my heart.”

3. Comparison. As my friendships would grow in intimacy, so did my need to compete. I was always comparing myself to them. She was smart, but I was smarter. She was thinner, but I was more athletic. She was funny, but I was more popular. Comparison will poison friendships. It hurts people. Instead of comparison, God invites us to lift others up. He wants us to put others first. If relationships have any chance of surviving, we must stand on the same ground of grace.

4. Fear. I was always afraid of friendships ending and being rejected. I was nervous I wasn’t a good enough friend. I would be manipulative and dishonest because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone. I would hide parts of myself that I was afraid of showing. I didn’t believe she could handle the real me, so I would conceal the truth. Instead, God invites us to step into the light. Friendships can only grow if there is honesty. 

5. Pride. I had to be right. I needed to be right. When I made mistakes, it was so hard for me to admit my wrong. I would turn the blame on others or skirt around the real issues. I didn’t take ownership for the mistakes I made. Instead, God invites us to confess. The only way to truly meaningful relationships is through confession. 

Friendships are one of God’s greatest gifts to us. When you find a good friend, your life will be forever changed. But I don’t just want to find a good friend anymore. I don’t want to stuff relationships into the void in my soul to feel okay. I don’t want envy to make me paranoid and ugly. I don’t want comparison to be what divides my friendships any longer. When I feel fear pricking my paralyzed heart, I don’t want to tell tiny white lies. I don’t want to prove myself or let pride become a shield that keeps me from seeing myself.

I want to be a good friend. I want to be a friend that sets my friends free, builds them up, cheers them on, speaks the truth, and humbly walks with them through life. God models pure friendship for us in the way He gave Himself up for us. Yes, a true friend lays down her life for another. It takes a tremendous amount of trust to love a friend this way. It requires entering the deep love and friendship of Jesus first. The way to better our friendships is to know the friendship of Jesus. I can make mistakes, cry, lose relationships, and bleed, but the friendship of Jesus will always remain faithful to me. 

 

[bctt tweet=”The way to better our friendships is to know the friendship of Jesus. -Anjuli Paschall:” username=”incourage”]

Don’t Resist the Simple Tasks of Everyday Life

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If I cook all the meals and do all the laundry, but do not have love, I am nothing but a noisy gong.
If I help with all the homework and go outside to play together, but do not have love, I lose.
If I share my opinions on social distancing and shame everyone for not having the same experience as me, but do not have love, I am like crashing cymbals.
If I share a meal with my neighbor and give to those that lost their jobs, but do not have love, I gain nothing.
My version of 1 Corinthians 13

I was doing laundry on Mother’s Day when God showed me the condition of my heart — a pandemic can reveal a lot about each of us. I was frustrated, allowing put-down thoughts to control my mind. I no longer was serving my family in love but was doing a duty with selfishness in my heart.

When our expectations are unmet, we can become frustrated and that can quickly lead to resentment of where we are and whom we are called to serve. Serving isn’t about getting the job done; it’s about the heart behind it and the hearts that feel loved by our actions.

Like others trying to get through the pandemic, many parts of my life have changed. My podcast is on hold. I don’t feel creative to write this post or anything else I was working before all this. I’ve shifted to full-time homemaker, teacher, and caregiver. I struggle with quiet times in the morning and knowing what to study with the Lord. I’ve had to close my Airbnb. And though I should be packing my bags for an international trip with my family right now, that had to be canceled too.

But I’ve learned to pivot. I’ve learned to appreciate today. I try not to complain about the things that just don’t matter. I’ve chosen to learn from this time and know this will not last forever. I’m trusting God that He is working all things together for the good of those that love Him (Romans 8:28). I’m thankful my family has our health and that God has provided for us through this difficult season. I’m thankful to live on our farm and see new life in our animals. I’m loving more time with my family and enjoying the spring weather. I’ve enjoyed teaching my daughter at home and watching her grow.

Most days God has given me contentment and a peace that passes my circumstances or understanding. But sometimes my ugly self can rise up and question how much I do and wonder what’s in it for me: Do those I love really appreciate me? Does what I do matter? Am I doing enough for others? What about all the things God called me to that have stopped?

These thoughts usually pop in my mind when I’m on my fifth load of laundry that day or cooking my 180th meal in two months, when someone tells me they’re hungry while I’m cleaning dishes from the last meal, or when I compare myself to someone else on Instagram. I begin to allow resentment to creep into my heart.

Resentment leads to resistance of simple tasks in our daily life — the very places Jesus served and told us to do the same.

Whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant . . . just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.
Matthew‬ ‭20:26, 28 (NIV)

We want to go and do much with the Lord. We want to feel important. And often the daily tasks of our life don’t measure up to our own expectations of what matters in the kingdom of God.

Do we believe daily life is beneath us? Do we think serving those closest to us is not enough? Do we resist the simple things God calls us to that no one will see? Are we powering through these daily activities to get to what we might consider more important things?

This season, God is teaching me that life is not about just getting things accomplished. It’s about serving others as unto the Lord, doing each task with a joy-filled heart. Love makes our actions meaningful. Through the everyday tasks of our socially distanced or stay-at-home lives, God’s love in us can be poured out to those around us.

Our everyday tasks are an act of worship to Him, helping us realign what we know to be important and empowering us to love others in ways we thought were too basic.

As you continue to do the everyday-ness of your life, in whatever phase of this pandemic you are in, remember God does not need your service or spiritual gifts or an attitude of “Let’s get over this and get on to the more important things.” God only needs your availability each day to allow Him to love others through you, and your daily tasks can say “I love you” to God and others.

Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.
1 John‬ ‭3:18 (NIV)

 

[bctt tweet=”Our everyday tasks are an act of worship to Him, helping us realign what we know to be important and empowering us to love others in ways we thought were too basic. -Stephanie Bryant:” username=”incourage”]

Pay Attention and Look for the Evidence

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I remember sitting in my counselor’s office last year. I had a lot of things I wanted to talk about that day, and I had gone in with a mental list I was preparing to cover. 

Before I could bring up any of the topics that I wanted to discuss, these words rushed out of my lips: “I am afraid to date. I don’t know if I will ever be able to date again.” 

I stared at my counselor, surprised by the words I heard come from me. This was not one of the things I had been planning on discussing. And yet, as soon as I heard the words, I knew they were true. 

My counselor, Marie, is kind. She has a soft voice and talks often about the Holy Spirit. She wears a lot of makeup, and her hair is always perfectly coiffed or curled. The first time I had a session with her, I almost wrote her off, thinking she was a bit woo-woo for my liking. I was wrong. I’ve since learned she’s a tough woman, but also deeply kind. It’s a good mix. 

Marie smiled softly at me. “Let’s talk about that. Why are you afraid to date?” 

Marie knows some of my history with relationships. My ex-boyfriend was not kind to me — there were many hard things that took place, and many years of pain that followed. God is slowly healing me. Counseling helps. But I didn’t want to talk about him or my past, I wanted to think and dream and talk about my future. 

“I’m afraid I won’t be safe,” I said. “And I’m afraid I’ll make bad decisions. I’m afraid that what happened to me in my past will happen again. I don’t know how to look for someone good.” I sort of laughed. “I don’t know what a healthy relationship even looks like.”

She took out a piece of paper, scrawling a word in capital letters near the top. 

I peered over her desk to see what she was writing. In large letters I saw the word EVIDENCE. 

She drew a line down the middle of the paper, and held it up to me. “See this?”

I nodded. 

“You are now a detective. I want you to start looking for the evidence. Before you ever decide to date someone, I want you to be alert and write down all of the evidence from his life that you see. How does he talk about his friends or his family? What music does he listen to? How does he treat the barista at the coffee shop? What is his tone of voice when he’s speaking to you? Write down his actions. Write down everything. Be alert, and look for the evidence. The evidence doesn’t lie.” 

I took Marie’s wisdom to heart. Now anyone I think about dating has to endure all of my detective work. This process has saved me a lot of heartache, and has given me the confidence to know that my painful history won’t likely repeat. I literally have a notebook where I write down the evidence I see in that person’s life. It might sound a bit creepy, but it’s definitely effective. 

Recently, I’ve begun to wonder if looking for evidence isn’t only wisdom for dating relationships — but if it’s also a way to see God. 

I think of Marie’s words: be alert and look for the evidence. 

Am I alert when it comes to seeking God? Am I looking for the evidence of His love? When I truly think about it, and when I get my trusty notebook out and jot down the evidence of God, I am astounded by all of the ways He shows me He loves me. 

I see the love of God in the eyes of my nephew and niece. I see the love of God in the friendships He has given me. I see the love of God in the way He is redeeming some hard parts from my past. 

Here are three things I find helpful when I start to look for the evidence of the love of God:

  • Ask God to show you His love. God delights in showing us how much He loves us! I ask Him almost daily to remind me of the love He has for me.
  • Pay attention to your daily life and to the world around you. Most of the time, I’d like God to show me a large, sweeping gesture of His love for me. Sometimes He does, but most of the time I see His fingerprints of love pressed into the folds of my everyday life. I am awakened to His love in the smallest and most tender details.
  • Once you find the evidence of God’s love, write it down. I keep a small leather notebook on my bookshelf. I call it my “Book of Remembrance,” and I write down every instance I see or hear from God. We humans tend to forget God’s faithfulness. Write down the evidence that God gives you, and the next time you question whether or not God reveals Himself, you can go back to your notebook and re-read all of the times God was faithful. 

Look for the evidence of the love of God. If you stay alert, pay attention, and write down what you see, I think you’ll be surprised by what you find. 

God’s love is as close to you as the air you breathe. He delights in you and He sings over you. Sometimes we just need a reminder to wake up and look. 

 

[bctt tweet=”God’s love is as close to you as the air you breathe. He delights in you and He sings over you. Sometimes we just need a reminder to wake up and look. -@alizalatta:” username=”incourage”]