When God’s Love Shows Up Everywhere I Look

When God’s Love Shows Up Everywhere I Look

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The perfectly shaped heart appeared in the sandy earth as though it had been drawn by an artist’s hand. So smooth were the curves, so naturally did it blend in with the surroundings, that even the grass had grown in a tidy outline around its edges. And yet I had no recollection of the heart being there the day before when we had walked this way.

The season of hearts began during a time of immense pain in my marriage. I had once believed God’s hand firmly steered our lives, from our first date to where we lived, but now everything felt so chaotic and all my prayers for help seemed to go unanswered. Divorce loomed inevitably, and I wondered if I should even try anymore.

“We’re finding hearts all over the place, Mommy” my six-year-old said as we marvelled over the arching stones. And it was true. These universal symbols of love seemed to show up everywhere we went.

Like the school morning I came out to warm up the car, eyes red-rimmed from a night of crying to find tin foil hearts strewn on the ground by my driver’s door.

Then there was the silver heart bookmark, previously lost in a sea of haphazardly stacked books, found dangling from the shelf, gently swaying though no breeze blew through the house.

But it wasn’t until they began showing up in odd places that I realized there was a definite pattern: the water stain on my jeans that formed a flawless heart. The ketchup squirting in the shape of a heart onto my hamburger. It had felt as though two invisible hands had seized the Heinz bottle and squeezed hard and fast.

“Wow, Mom! God is trying to tell you He loves you,” said my teenage blonde as she stared incredulous, at the red heart oozing over the cheese.

Was this true? Was this God trying to get my attention? Or was grief having the last laugh?

Something in my unbelieving heart shifted as I looked at my daughter, whose own heart had been hardening during the family breakdown. The look of wonder on her tender face was deep and sincere. Maybe God hadn’t forsaken us after all.

“God, what are you trying to tell me? I feel so hopeless,” I prayed.

Soon after, I was stirred with the desire to read the story of Hosea and his heart-wrenching pursuit of his beloved Gomer, who continually rejected him for other lovers. Whether we are abandoned by our spouses through adultery, addiction, or their adoration of the shiny offerings of this world, or due to our own actions and reactions, the painful tearing of the one-flesh strikes deep into the recesses of our hearts. I desperately wanted God to change my husband, to stop the hemorrhaging in our marriage.

But He wanted to heal the hemorrhaging in my soul first.

As the hearts kept coming, I realized God was pursuing me. I was His Gomer, running from His love, making an idol of my husband, while He sought me through the dark streets, wooing my wounded heart. It wasn’t just a broken situation; it was me too. The circumstances were grueling, but my response to them was one of a heart paralyzed with pain, lies, fear, and a lack of trust from old wounds.

The damage from childhood sexual abuse and years of prodigal living hissed venomously at me that I didn’t deserve to be loved. False internalized messages of women’s inferiority had grown a bitter, rebellious root. My husband had his own issues to confront, but it took me some time to understand that I needed to follow Jesus and to trust that He was speaking to my husband’s heart too.

I repented of chasing after my husband and turned to His voice. As the hearts continued to appear, His words to me were: Rest. Respect. Rejoice.

Rest in Him. Rest by the fire. Read a good book. Watch the children play and cast my cares on Him. God slowly peeled back the layers of my pain and pride to touch the tender undercurrents surging there, bringing rest to my weary soul. He opened doors for me and my children to travel. He sent me a spiritual mama, Naomi style, who reminded me of the sacred battle I was in and bolstered me when I felt too weak to go on.

As I began to understand my unshakable identity as a daughter of the King, my self-respect grew, and fear abated. Loving and respecting myself, I could now love and respect my husband as a child of God. God had been softening his heart too, and he had responded. Arguments decreased, and with each healthy exchange, I rejoiced.

Over time, God gave us the miracle of reconciliation.

I meet many women wounded in difficult marriages. The enemy never stops attacking and tempting spouses, men and women, to abandon their covenants and sin against their families. But God is faithful. He is the healer of hearts.

Just in case I need a little reminder, I have a heart-shaped stone I found on a walk recently on our bedroom dresser. It is tangible, living proof of His love, His pursuit of me as His bride — to have and to hold, now and forever. “So let us be glad and rejoice” (Revelation 19:7 NKJV).

Letting Go of Expectations and Letting In the Light

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After reading Myquillyn Smith’s philosophy about how lamp light can improve the mood of a room, especially in the winter, I put on my shoes, grabbed the car keys and my purse, and skedaddled myself off to Home Goods.

With the sky-climbing Rockies just to the west of us, it gets dark mighty early this time of year. So, upon considering Myquillyn’s home perspective, I found it absolutely imperative that I infuse a little light into a couple dark corners of our home.

And really, it’s been several months of finding it absolutely imperative to infuse a little light into the dark corners of my life.

Alas, I find no right-sized lamps at Home Goods or Target, so after driving back home, I hop online and order two discounted lamps that fit the bill for what the space — specifically our sunroom — needs. I close my laptop and look out the window. The golden hour is straining to hold onto its last few rays of light, and I’m straining to hold onto the light this Christmas time when so many things look differently than in Christmases past.

Some of what looks different are good things — favorable changes. But there are several more that have barged through my front door without permission or invitation, and they’ve brought loss and limitations as they’ve long since overstayed their welcome.

And those changes exposed some expectations I’ve been carrying.

The limitations of COVID that we experienced in the spring, summer, and fall will likely be with us this Advent and Christmas, too. We can’t travel where we thought we could. We can’t necessarily be with those we want to be with. And even if some things are possible, not all things are advisable — depending on who you ask.

For some of us, the limitations extend to the worst of losses, the kind that make our Christmas traditions and celebrations look different not just this year but every future year to come.

I think we’re all a little desperate for the light.

Centuries ago, a people, too, were desperate for the light when a baby’s birth changed everything — although not in the way they had wanted:

See, the virgin will become pregnant and give birth to a son, and they will name him Immanuel, which is translated “God is with us.”
Matthew 1:23 (CSB)

The people expected a king in a palace, and who arrived was a King in a stable.
The people expected power and might, and who showed up was meek and humble.
The people expected one who would poise Himself over them in majesty, and who appeared was Immanuel, God with us.

Without this big change from long ago, we wouldn’t have Jesus. We wouldn’t have the presence of God like never before.

Sometimes, in order to accept difficult change, it helps to flip it over and allow the expectations we’re holding be exposed. Change always exposes expectations. And if we can dare to release those expectations, it might make room for other good things — better things — God has for us.

Because even in the worst times of change and loss, God is still for us.

This Christmas season may be the most difficult one you’ve experienced to date. If that’s true, then I’m so sorry. Like the people of Israel who didn’t receive what they expected but needed, I pray the Lord shows you today, even this hour, a glimpse of His Light telling the dark corners of your heart exactly what it needs to know.

My lamps arrive. and I set them up just where I need it the most. When the sun goes down in my sunroom, the lights push back the night, and I know this in my heart: The biggest change brings the opportunity to have the biggest encounter with Jesus.

May we all let His light in.

Love Over All: Love Celebrates

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They will proclaim the power of Your awe-inspiring acts, and I will declare your greatness. They will give a testimony of your great goodness and will joyfully sing of your righteousness.
Psalm 145:6-8 (CSB)

Every month of 2020, we featured the Love Over All theme verse on the first Sunday of the month. We loved everything about Love Over All (read more about it here), and we hope you did too!

December’s theme is Love Celebrates.

Celebrating God’s goodness can come at any time of the year, but how beautiful to celebrate Him during the Christmas season? We see His rich love abundantly displayed through the arrival of Jesus — the first time God is here with His people, fully man and fully God. Jesus was the fulfillment of so many of the promises God had made through His people.

We love reading the Christmas story because it shows the true display of awe and wonder in the people. From shepherds watching over their flocks by night to wise men and more, they delighted in meeting their Savior and King, in the form of a baby wrapped in swaddling cloths lying in a manger. Hope came in an unexpected package, but it was here. And because of this, today we too can celebrate and rejoice in God’s goodness as witnesses to the Hope born before us and still present long after His birthday in Bethlehem. Let’s celebrate this month with full joy and praise for all the amazing things God has done.

Chaos Doesn’t Get the Final Say

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With a smile on my face and tears in my eyes, I read the final line in Scripture and sighed as the sermon concluded. It’s a bit of a running joke within my small group: For whatever reason, God has wanted me in the book of Revelation.

A year and a half ago, with the help of a study book, I began to slowly go through Revelation one chapter at a time. A handful of weeks after turning the last page, my Bible study group decided to dig deep into that very same letter. Most of the group, based on what they had previously heard, approached Revelation with fear, confusion, and overwhelm. Several months later, each and every one of us went around the circle talking about how somewhere along the way, our overwhelm and fear turned to overwhelming hope.

A month later, as our church came to the end of studying Philippians, our pastor announced we would begin walking through Revelation the following week. Every head in the row spun to look at me as our group held back laughter. “I guess God wants you here a little longer,” a friend whispered.

The sermon series was planned long before a pandemic, but it’s a funny thing to study Revelation in 2020. A year and a half later, though, after hours of studying on my own, with a small group, and every Sunday at church, there are two truths I want you to know:

1. The Author is good.

2. One day, the sea will be no more.

In ancient times, expanses of water were tied to darkness and chaos. The sea was believed to be where evil had a foothold. If you read Scripture through that lens, you’ll be amazed at how God’s goodness is woven through.⁣

The Red Sea is split for the Israelites to walk through. Jesus is baptized in the Jordan River. Twice, the disciples, many of whom grew up on the water as fishermen, found themselves in the middle of the Sea of Galilee as a storm raged around them. They knew the Sea of Galilee intimately, and they were terrified.
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In one storm, Jesus is sleeping — completely at peace as the sea rages. He isn’t concerned, frightened, or unsure. When He speaks, the waters still. The waves and the wind know His voice. In another, Jesus comes in the middle of the storm, walking on the swelling waves that threaten to overtake.⁣

At the very beginning of Genesis, the Spirit hovers over the waters. In Revelation, the sea will be no more. And all throughout, God is in control. He is the answer, the Way, the anchor. He parts the waters, and He walks upon them. With one word, the waves still. The sound of His voice is enough for the created knows its Creator.⁣

Friend, the sea has an end date. Chaos will once and for all be calmed because the Prince of Peace gets the final say. A few verses after the beautiful promise in 21:1, Revelation offers this hope:

And the one sitting on the throne said, “Look, I am making everything new!” And then he said to me, “Write this down, for what I tell you is trustworthy and true.” And he also said, “It is finished! I am the Alpha and the Omega—the Beginning and the End. To all who are thirsty I will give freely from the springs of the water of life.
Revelation 21:5-6 (NLT)

There will still be water, but there will be no reason to fear because like the One who is Living Water (John 4 and John 7), it will not take life or bring chaos. It will give life to those who are thirsty.

As we near the end of 2020, a year marked for many by a global pandemic, great losses, strained relationships, and overwhelming fear, I’m all the more grateful for the hope of Advent.

It takes half a second to flip from Malachi to Matthew in the Bible, but 400 years pass between the two. Four hundred years from the last time the people of God heard Him speak. Similar to the feelings that rose to the surface as we opened Revelation many months ago, I imagine 400 years of silence felt like confusion, doubt, and fear.

But they held onto hope. They continued to believe. They remembered His words, one generation testifying of His faithfulness to the next.

And then the page turned, for the promise-maker in Malachi is the promise-keeper in Matthew.⁣

We get to tell the story in this in-between, on this page marked 2020, confident that the Author is good all the way through.
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May we be a people who wait well, who cling to hope when the night is long, who remember and believe that chaos will one day be calmed once and for all.

⁣Take heart! The Word gets the final word. Everything sad will come untrue for Light has come, Love has won, and all is being made new.⁣
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One day, the sea will be no more. Hallelujah!

A Simple Christmas: No Other Gift Can Compare

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I have a love/hate relationship with the holidays. I love the shimmering beauty and festive spirit of Christmas: the sparkling lights, the joy-filled carols, the alluring packages carefully arranged under a twinkling tree. What I don’t love so much is the heavy weight of expectation I place on myself to make the holidays bright and meaningful for those around me.

Over the past few years, as I’ve embraced simplicity in my home and schedule, I’ve become aware of how easily I still fall prey to the trappings of consumerism at Christmastime, with its messages of “more, more, more” and “bigger is better” — the dark side of this otherwise merry holiday.

I finally began to make some changes that helped me cut back on spending and alleviate some of my burdensome gift-giving expectations.

I started at school. Though we donate money at the beginning of the year toward class gifts for the teachers’ birthdays, Christmas, and Teacher Appreciation Week, I still felt compelled to buy or create a unique and special gift not just for one  but all of my children’s teachers for the holidays. One year, I spent hours making matching sets of coasters and clipboards, appropriately decorated for each teacher. They were a hit, and I was bolstered by the praise and thanks I received. But then, it dawned on me: Was that why I went to all the effort in the first place? To gain acceptance and affirmation for myself? That was hardly in line with the true spirit of giving.

So, I scaled back — way back — and determined that my anonymous contribution to the class gift was sufficient. My gift from now on was to be the gift of one-less-thing. This lined up perfectly with my personal philosophy and hopefully gave a bit of space to the teachers as well.

The next area of gift-giving I let go of was harder because it dealt with those closer to me: my friends. Gift giving is a love language I enjoy bestowing on those I care about, but finding the perfect expression of my love for and my knowledge of my friends was becoming time-consuming at Christmas, when I had five children and other family to shop or create for.

Instead of focusing my gift-giving energy on my friends at Christmastime, I decided to redirect it to the celebration of their birthdays. In this way, I have the whole year to happen upon just the right thing for each of my friends, and because their birthdays are all spread out over the year, I don’t have to worry about feeling overwhelmed, eliminating the stress of mass gift-giving. With a few exceptions, I’ve made these birthday gifts into one-on-one outings for breakfast or lunch, giving the gift of time and conversation during this busy season of our lives as moms.

Finally, I identified another area where I can move gift-giving off my plate for the holidays: baking for my neighbors. We have five families on our street, and I have always baked assorted goods for them at Christmastime. But some years, finding time to bake ended up as a night-before-Christmas-Eve baking frenzy. After all, Christmas is usually one big feasting celebration, and no one needs to receive another plate of cookies to add to their table. So, I decided to celebrate my neighbors in November, the month of gratitude, with harvest treats and notes of thanks for their help and friendship throughout the year.

By eliminating the stress and overwhelm of gift-giving at Christmas, I can concentrate more fully on the wonder of God’s greatest gift to us, not wrapped in gold or silver but in a common swaddling cloth — our Redeemer Jesus. He who would grow up to save the world from sin by giving His life for us on the cross — no other gift can compare.

This post by Aimee Mae Wiley first appeared on (in)courage in 2018.

We want you to enjoy a heartfelt, simplified Christmas this year, so we’ve gathered a few of our favorite (in)courage words on this very subject!

Sign up for this FREE Simple Christmas 5-day email series, and we will send you five daily emails with encouragement to be present and celebrate this special season with courageous simplicity. Join us and get your holidays off to a simply great start.

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Learning to Give Thanks Even When It’s Hard

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I can’t believe it’s already December, and yet on the other hand, it feels like we’ve been in 2020 for ages. I was thankfully able to have a great deal of normalcy this year, and though I wasn’t affected in some of the ways my friends were, I still experienced pain and loss too. It wasn’t pandemic related, but it overwhelmed me just the same.

I had been navigating hurt in several friendships, but in this time of isolation, the rifts in my relationships have hurt more. I battled loneliness and heartache. I fought off offense and anger. I can’t say I’m fully on the other side of it all, but the Lord has been sustaining me.

Now, with Thanksgiving behind us and Advent upon us, I’m finding myself struggling to feel what I ought to feel this holiday season. I’m not a pessimist nor am I an optimist. I tend to fall into the realist category. In the midst of the valley, I know what I should thank God for, but it’s also hard to see through the clouds at the top of the mountain to notice all the joy. My heart desperately wants to live in a state of perpetual gratitude, but I often see the lack, the loss, and all that is not yet. There has been some restoration in my friendships, but hopelessness lies in wait to steal any joy the Lord has for me.

I hold both the hard reality of my life and the bits of hope, and I turn to God’s Word to guide me when my feelings can’t seem to catch up. I turn to Psalm 100 and read:

Shout joyfully to the Lord, all the earth.
Serve the Lord with gladness;
Come before Him with joyful singing.
Know that the Lord Himself is God;
It is He who has made us, and not we ourselves;
We are His people and the sheep of His pasture.

Enter His gates with thanksgiving
And His courts with praise.
Give thanks to Him, bless His name.
For the Lord is good;
His loving kindness is everlasting
And His faithfulness to all generations.

These words remind me of the truth I so easily forget: God is God, and no one can compare to His greatness. We were made by Him and for Him, and He calls us His very own. We are His sheep, dearly and wholly loved by Him. He has blessed us with His goodness, and He is faithful to us throughout our lives. And it doesn’t end with us! It keeps going to all future generations.

I read the psalm over and over again because my heart needs to soak in the truth. Slowly but surely, I start to remember all the moments where I experienced God’s goodness and faithfulness to me. And each one gives me reason to give thanks and to rejoice.

Regardless of my circumstances, I can return to the truth that God is God. No matter what my emotions say, He is still good and He loves me more than anyone else can. Despite what others might say about me, the truth is that God made me in His likeness and He calls me worthy.

The hope of this season for me and you, for all of us feeling lonely and heavy hearted, is that the Lord is near. He is everything we need and everything we desire. And that’s why we can give thanks, shout joyfully, serve with gladness, and sing praise.

Are you struggling to be thankful? Let’s remember who God has been and what He has done, and let’s name at least one thing we can be thankful for.

 

Rejoice in the Source of Our Hope

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Many of you might be feeling a bit weary. I can hear it in your voices. I can read it between the lines of written words. I am weary too, friends. From big things to small things — health, family, a heartbreaking, unexpected death, a global pandemic, even a broken refrigerator — it has been a hard season. And it seems that one issue after another has kept me out of my art studio. I haven’t created any new art for some time, and I figured I’d just let it go until the new year, get a fresh start then.

But day after day, something has been pressing on my heart. I couldn’t get the thought of my head, and I could no longer keep pushing that small voice aside.

I made my way into my studio with only this message on my heart: hope and time for this weary world to rejoice. It was such a strong message that I knew I needed to share it right now — this season, this year. It couldn’t wait until next Christmas.

This is the message we need to hear right now: This weary world can rejoice because we have a Savior in Jesus. Only He can bring the peace, love, and hope we long for. 

I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in Him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit.
Romans 15:13 (NLT)

Romans 15 gives us an incredible reminder of where our peace, our joy, and our hope come from. Jesus is our source of them all.

Even before the challenges of being in a pandemic were added, this time of year was already overwhelming with expectations — expectations of a perfectly put together Christmas experience, Advent calendar activities, dinner parties, family photos in coordinated outfits, pictures with Santa, following every tradition, creating memories, finding perfect gifts, and checking all the lists. The problem with all those expectations was that when they didn’t go as planned, we felt disappointed or maybe even that we’ve ruined Christmas. The high expectations were just not realistic.

When our joy is placed achieving impossible standards, we set ourselves up to feeling empty. But when we put our joy and happiness in Jesus, He fills us in ways that cannot be understood or explained. The hope we have in Jesus will carry us through even the darkest days. 

No matter if we’re feeling broken, rejected, or fearful, no matter what our homes or schedules look like, no matter what we’re walking through this season, Jesus steps into the darkness and brings the hope we need. He meets us in our mess and redeems it.

He is truly the Light in the darkness.

So, let’s choose to let go of all those expectations. Let’s focus on the love around us, the joy that still surrounds us. Jesus is still here. He is the source of hope that will not disappoint, and He can heal a weary world. He is the best gift of all, and that calls for some rejoicing.

 

I created “The Weary World Rejoices” art collection with you in mind! Each piece is a reminder that Jesus is our only source of hope. Get one for you and a friend this Christmas!

 

The Delight of Eating Together

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For months, the Holy Spirit prodded at my heart to reach out to a widow down the street from us. Weeks went by and then months of ignoring a growing conviction, until all the excuses I’d wrapped so beautifully started to unravel. With a thumping in my heart and apologies on my tongue, I gave her a call.

I had no idea how she’d react, and I honestly felt overwhelming guilt for waiting so long. Cognizant of her health, I offered a front porch, physically distant coffee date. Without hesitation, without expressing frustration for all the times I drove by her home without acknowledgment, she squealed, “Oh Jen, I couldn’t be any more tickled with delight.”

Tickled with delight. It felt straight out of a Hallmark movie.

Why had I waited so long? It rocked me once again to know that a simple invitation to gather at the table would be met with such joy amidst loneliness.

But should that surprise me?

I’ve spent a lot of time in Luke. I think he’d be the first Bible personality I’d invite to my table if I could. More than any of the other Gospel writers, Luke seemed to understand the significance of mealtime and table fellowship. I imagine him as the quintessential New Testament food blogger, whipping out his cell phone to capture in pictures what can’t be described with words. He’d bring to life the significance of food and community. After all, food was mentioned around fifty times in his gospel. Robert Karris observes, “In Luke’s Gospel, Jesus is either going to a meal, at a meal, or coming from a meal.”

Jesus used the sharing of food throughout His ministry as an opportunity for nourishment on so many levels — to break down barriers, bring community together, radically cross economic and political boundaries, and even give opposing enemies the opportunity to sit together. The context behind many of Jesus’ interactions with His followers was a simple meal. He modeled its importance, and yet Luke seems to be the only one who highlighted this in his writing. Maybe he didn’t want us to miss out on Jesus’ simple yet revolutionary method.

We can learn and apply a lot from this. In A Meal with Jesus, author Tim Chester reflects on six particular chapters in Luke and poses an interesting question in the introduction: “How would you complete this sentence — The Son of Man came . . .”

Out of curiosity, I asked my husband and son this question, and they followed suit with the majority of Christians. They answered, “The Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Mark 10:45 ESV), followed by, “The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10 ESV).

So then I offered, “There’s a third way to respond.” They were as stumped as I had been. The third response I told them is, “The Son of Man has come eating and drinking” (Luke 7:34 ESV).

My husband argued, “Oh no He didn’t.”

“Oh yes He did. Open the Bible, and I’ll show you.”

How is it that I’d glossed over that last statement when I’d read it so often? Chester writes, “The first two are statements of purpose. Why did Jesus come? He came to serve, to give His life as a ransom, to seek and save the lost. The third statement is a statement of method.” It’s how Jesus came — eating and drinking. Isn’t that a dynamic insight?

How brilliant that His gospel strategy was often disguised as a long, lingering meal stretching out past sunset. He didn’t spend time creating more corporate planning strategy meetings or developing new church programs. He simply fed more. He intertwined His message and His method in such an authentic and natural way that it’s easy to miss if we’re not paying attention.

Jesus came “eating and drinking,” and it blew people’s minds. That’s because when He sat down to eat, there was a lot more going on than just the savoring of fresh fish hot off the grill, a loaf of bread, and a cool drink. Doing life around the table was and continues to be one of God’s favorite ways to enact world change — one of His most profound yet simple strategies for discipleship, evangelism, and the encouragement of the saints.

Our tables may look different this year due to COVID, but more than ever before, let’s take His lead. The profound impact a simple, safe, creative invitation can have on the lives of those around us must be pursued.

Who can you save a seat for this holiday season? Trust me, they’ll be tickled with delight.

 

How to Live a Deeply Rooted Life

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It seems impossible, but it’s true: Our dear friend Shelly Miller has been gone from this earth for a whole month now. And because grief is a weird thing, I find myself doing two things over and over again:

First, I keep listening to the last message Shelly sent to me. I listen to her voice, memorizing the words, the cadence, and the turns of phrases. 

It’s exactly three minutes and eight seconds long. Her voice is weak and wavering, and I’m still shocked when I hear her utter these impossible words — “The disease is taking over my body.” 

When I had first heard these words, I didn’t believe it. Losing Shelly seemed unimaginable even after she’d been given a terminal diagnosis of cancer. And though her body had lost its strength, her faith hadn’t. She sought peace through it all and until the end. 

She left that voice message on a Saturday, and twenty-four hours later, Shelly slipped away to heaven. 

The second thing I keep doing is looking at a photo I had snapped when our family had visited Shelly and her husband H at their home in London. Gorgeous white flowers were blooming profusely in the most unexpected place — atop a brick wall. There was no soil up on that wall, at least that I could see, no tending by human hands, and yet there they were, an abundance of snow-white flowers waving in the breeze. I marveled at them and took a photo to remember how they simply existed because they existed. 

I stare at the photo now, and this part of 1 Corinthians 3:7 comes to mind, “ . . . only God, who makes things grow.” Some flowers burst forth in bloom simply because God made it so. 

Shelly was that way. Some of you here might know her already. She was a friend of (in)courage, a beloved author, and a gifted photographer. She was known around the world as the Rest Mentor. Through her words, she constantly encouraged us to carry a bit of Sabbath in our hearts. For me, she was a dear friend and also a steady voice in my ear to pause and rest when I pushed too hard. 

Shelly would always tell her readers that it was possible to “make rest realistic, not just miraculous.” In a culture that idolizes hustle, she wanted us to know that we didn’t have to wait for some magical moment to take a beat in this busy world. 

And like those flowers outside the window of Shelly’s home, she was able to flourish in impossible places, even in the midst of a cancer diagnosis. I told Shelly that sometimes it seemed like when the cancer grew, her faith grew bigger.

While Shelly was like those flowers in important ways — blooming in unexpected ways and in an unexpected place — she was also different. We couldn’t see the roots of the flowers, but we all could see that Shelly was a deeply rooted woman. 

I always told her she had a “resourced faith.” She spent countless hours studying God’s Word and being still in His presence, teaching about rest and living out those lessons. All of it added up to a bank of spiritual resources. In hard times, she was able to draw from the “faith bank” that she had built during less turbulent times. 

Resourced faith — built quietly over time — can sustain us in seasons of great trials, in the same way that a strong and deeply rooted system can keep a plant blooming strong.

“Even in the midst of living with a terminal illness, joy is found and markers are to be celebrated. We don’t stop living just because of prognoses,” Shelly wrote in one of her last Instagram posts. In another, she wrote: “Uncertainty comes with a choice: Let circumstances control you or give control to the One who knows every detail of your circumstance.”

Shelly taught us a lot of lessons in the fifty-six years of her beautiful life. She showed us what it looked like to bloom wherever she was planted — in the soil of adversity or in the soil of joyful abundance, planted by God who gives life and makes things bloom. 

When I think about the kind of life I want to live, it’s clear to me that I want to live like Shelly, making each day count by putting down roots that go deep — roots that will help me to not only stand strong during the storms of this life but to also flourish with beauty and grace.

The Reason for This Advent Season

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For a child will be born for us,
a son will be given to us,
and the government will be on his shoulders.
He will be named
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Eternal Father, Prince of Peace.
Isaiah 9:6 (CSB)

Today, we mark the first week of Advent, a season of expectant waiting and longing for Christ to come again as we celebrate His first coming. Perhaps more than ever, we feel the ache of wanting God to make all things right again, so let’s let the words of this familiar passage marinate in our hearts.

Jesus is our Wonderful Counselor. When we are in despair from the overwhelming pain of this year, we remember that God is Healer and Counselor. He is both the One who helps us and the very balm we need for our broken hearts, our fragile minds, and our bruised bodies.

Jesus is our Mighty God. When we are taken advantage of, when we feel powerless, God is our strength and our defender. No can stand against His powerful name.

Jesus is our Eternal Father. When we feel unloved — particularly during this holiday season, we remember that God is our loving Father. He has known us from before He created the world and knows where we are headed. He cares about each moment and every part of our lives.

Jesus is our Prince of Peace. When fear and anxiety rule our hearts, He is still the giver of peace. He Himself is Peace and dwells within us through the Holy Spirit. Find rest in Him.

Come, Lord Jesus, come. Amen. 

Choosing the Path to Bethlehem

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I still remember sitting at that outdoor café table across from my mama as a newly-minted widow. In those days, it was hard for us to find time away from my three young daughters to process together. We savored our sandwiches on freshly-baked bread and sipped cappuccino on that fall day. Our conversation wandered to the book of Ruth, which we were walking through at our church Bible study.

Was it any wonder that just a few months after my husband soared to heaven that God would have me circle back to study one of my favorite books in the Bible? The timing of it all was not lost on me.

This time, I was reading through the book with a new lens as a young widow myself. The details leaped off the pages of my Bible, and I saw His fingerprints all over the story.

The story begins with two women, Naomi and her daughter-in-law Ruth, in the midst of a crisis. Naomi’s husband Elimelech has died and her two sons, including Ruth’s husband, have also died in Moab where they had lived.

Naomi decides to return to her home town of Bethlehem where there is promise of provision and urges her two daughters-in-law to return to their Moabite families. She has nothing to offer them. But Ruth takes an unexpected stand.

Her words echo through the halls of history:

“Do not persuade me to leave you or go back and not follow you. For wherever you go, I will go, and wherever you live, I will live; your people will be my people, and your God will be my God.”
Ruth 1:16 (HCSB)

Ruth chooses the road to Bethlehem. She walks away from her home in Moab, her family of origin, and her past.

On the road to Bethlehem, Ruth’s life is transformed. In Hebrew, Bethlehem means the “house of bread” — a symbol of provision. Ruth doesn’t know it at the time, but trusting in God means walking toward provision, freedom, and eventually unexpected redemption for both her and Naomi.

That day, sitting at the cafe, my mama said these words to me, “I just want to encourage you to open your heart. I believe God has someone else for you.”

My hands and heart trembled. How could she suggest that God might bring a new man to our family when I was still in the depths of my grief?

My marriage with my husband Ericlee had been strong. We were a team in parenting and ministry. But in losing him, I was down a teammate, and the wounds were still fresh. It was difficult to lift my head to imagine a hopeful future.

But I heard my mama’s words.

As crimson and gold leaves sashayed to the ground, and the sun warmed my cheeks, I felt a glimmer of hope.

In that same season, God brought Shawn into my life.

Shawn was a dear friend of our family – one of Ericlee’s best friends. We rekindled our friendship, and God began to unfold His wild plan for my future. Shawn spent time with the girls and me, and I began to look at him in a new way. My heart began to open.

Could this be God’s unexpected provision?

I expected pushback, but our friends and families gave us their blessing. Our Author-God handed us the next chapter of this life and invited my three young daughters and me into an unexpected redemption story only He could have written. Out of our brokenness, God brought abundance.

We wanted everyone who attended our wedding to know that God was the one who deserved all the glory for bringing us together. More than 700 people filled the church that day to celebrate with us. These were the people who had prayed for healing and grieved with us, the ones who had stood by my side on my hardest days and lifted me up.

When I look back over our wedding pictures, joy and wonder still bubble up in my spirit. We laughed, we cried, we feasted, we danced – all the while giving God glory for the surprising beauty He brought from our ashes.

God brings beauty from the ashes of Ruth’s life too. That single decision to follow Naomi to Bethlehem changes the trajectory of her life. She meets Boaz in Bethlehem, who later becomes her kinsman-redeemer and husband. More importantly, Ruth meets God, who is her ultimate Redeemer.

God includes her in His story – history – as the great-grandmother of King David and part of the bloodline of His Son Jesus. It’s no coincidence that Jesus is later born in Bethlehem, where Ruth discovered the kindness of God and true redemption.

Friend, if are feeling hopeless, remember Ruth. If you are wading through the mess of 2020 feeling like redemption is out of reach, remember how Yahweh met her on the road to Bethlehem. He met me there too.

As Christmas approaches, let’s all take a step toward Bethlehem. Our Redeemer awaits.

 

Dorina has written a free print and audio Advent devotional called “Under His Wings.” Sign up for her Glorygram here and a copy will be delivered to you every Sunday during Advent.

 

The Best Kind of Shopping

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Growing up, my mom and I went shopping every Black Friday. She raised me to be a bargain hunter, and the day after Thanksgiving was our main event. We pored over the Thanksgiving newspaper sprawled out on the floor after dinner and circled the items on our wish list like kids with a toy catalog. In those days, stores opened at the before-dawn hour of 6:00 am.

Mom and I would wait in line at Target, Dayton’s, and Kohl’s, and we would choose our first stop based on the free gifts they were handing out at the door. Yes, they used to do that! Over the years we collected snowglobes, stuffed animals, lawn chairs, and fleece blankets at the start. Then we would wander the store, standing in lines to check out with our treasures, giddily thinking about the recipient’s face on Christmas Day when they would open the perfect gift we got them. On the way home, we’d stop at a gas station for hot chocolate and donuts, our hands cold but our hearts warm from spending time together.

Black Friday shopping was a big deal because it meant one-on-one time with my mom. Years later, she admitted to me that she actually hated getting out of bed to stand in lines in the  freezing cold, but she did it because I loved it and she loved me.

The great deals we scored were just the icing on the cake.

Story by Anna E. Rendell

Gone are the days of free gifts in line and stores waiting until dawn to open. Black Friday shopping, especially this year, isn’t what it used to be, but we think it can still be fun — and helpful to your holiday budget too!

With that in mind, we’re super excited to tell you that EVERYTHING at Dayspring.com is 30% off for Black Friday!

Beautiful and created with intentional meaning, these items will make amazing gifts for women near and dear to your heart and will serve as a tangible reminder of God’s love for them.

And the best part about shopping these deals at DaySpring.com? You can wear your sweatpants, have your hair up in a messy bun, and you don’t have to leave your couch — all while stocking up on lovely, inspirational gifts for your family and friends. Is there any better kind of shopping?

Here are a few of our favorite (in)courage-inspired Dayspring products:

CSB (in)courage Devotional Bible: This sale is a fabulous chance to save big on the (in)courage Devotional Bible. We even have a brand new cover to choose from! With 322 devotions from over 100 (in)courage writers, this Bible is just what you’ve been looking for.

Woman of Courage Antique Silver Bar Pendant Necklace: Because every woman needs a reminder of who she is in Christ, this antique silver pendant necklace is a perfect gift for all occasions and will remind a friend, sister, daughter, or mom that she is strong and courageous when her trust is in God.

Take Heart: 100 Devotions for Seeing God When Life’s Not Okay: In our BRAND NEW 100-day devotional, the (in)courage community comes alongside you when your heart is grieving, your faith is shaking, or you’re having one of those mundane hard days. You won’t find tidy bows or trite quick fixes, just arrows pointing you straight to Jesus. After a year like 2020, this is the perfect gift for every woman on your list!

A Moment to Breathe Gift Set: Through this collection of stories, the (in)courage community invites you to kick off your shoes and join them for a relaxing but special time, where friends come together and share the real stuff of everyday faith.  This devotional gift set also includes our A Moment to Breathe devotional journal and matching perpetual calendar.

Simply enter FRIDAY at checkout for 30% off these (in)courage favorites AND everything else at DaySpring! Plus, with this great deal, you can save an extra 30% on sale items too!

Whether you are picking up curbside or shopping from your phone, may your 2020 Black Friday be filled with lots of coffee and great deals on meaningful gifts!

Do you have a memorable Black Friday story?
We’d love to hear it in the comments below!

 

We Thank God for YOU!

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I thank my God every time I remember you. In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy because of your partnership in the gospel from the first day until now, being confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.
Philippians 1:3-6 (NIV)

On a day that we’ve set aside for taking stock and counting blessings, we also want to set aside a moment with you. We are so very thankful for you.

Those of us working behind the scenes of (in)courage and those of us sharing our words and our stories never once take it for granted that you show up in this place, inviting us into your inboxes and your lives, sharing your own stories and hearts.

Thank you for being part of this community. Thank you for being, as Paul says in the passage above, our partners in the gospel. We know He will complete the good work He’s begun in you, and we pray that your love and ours will abound more and more.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends!

 

Changing Our Posture by Practicing Gratitude

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My kids are fifteen months apart. All they’ve known is being with each other, occupying the same space, having a constant companion. My daughter’s like my husband — logical, introverted, often craving space to herself so she can read or play unbothered. My son, on the other hand, is like me — affectionate, empathetic, always craving company and someone to play with. When they’re apart, they miss each other, wondering what the other is up to, what things they might be missing out on that the other is doing. They play well and fight well; it’s a can’t-live-with-or-without-each-other situation.

The other day, after some one-on-one time with my son at home, we go to pick up my daughter from my sister’s house. Less than five minutes into the car ride home, they start arguing, their tones twisting into whines and their voices rising in volume and sass. I have no patience for this. They had woken up that morning, complaining about the other, and so I yell, “You’re already fighting?! Why can’t you just be nice to each other?! That’s it! No one can talk until we get home!”

They scrunch their faces at me in frustration, but I don’t relent. We all need a timeout to take a breather, to let our emotions simmer down. Their last whines fade out, and as we drive the rest of the way home in silence, my anger subsides. I recognize my overreaction, and I remember the conversation my husband and I had about how it seems that every podcast or sermon or health tip we listen to these days talks about practicing gratitude.

Am I grateful or do I whine just like the kids do? Am I grateful even for them? If they’re gifts from God, how do I practice gratitude when I’ve lost my patience and yelled at them, when they don’t behave as I wish they would?

I check my heart and see the rigidity of my posture. When provoked, I often stand on a soapbox of my own righteousness and lord it over my kids, my finger wagging, my tone condescending. I feel entitled to them conforming to my ways, to complete obedience the first time every single time. I want them to play well with each other, to be happy and grateful.

But I realize that my expectations for their behavior is unrealistic. Though I want them to learn to listen, to respect me and each other, I’m asking for robots instead of children who need grace and reminders. And am I not also a child who needs the same things from the Father?

I’m not much different from my kids — I also need to try again, to use my words nicely, to say sorry and ask for forgiveness. I get off my soapbox and relax my stance. I look into the rearview mirror and see their faces, obediently quiet. I can tell they’re ready to be silly again, and I’m grateful their spirits haven’t been broken.

Our posture determines our attitude, and I’m understanding why so many people across the spectrum are talking about practicing gratitude. Gratitude changes our posture, and practicing gratitude means we must slow down our minds and our hearts to remember, recount, and recognize what we have to be grateful for. It helps us to make mental and emotional shifts throughout the day when it’s not going well, and it grounds us and gives us a better perspective.

Today has been much like yesterday, with the same arguments and whining, but my posture is softer, my heart more open. I’m running through the things I’m grateful for, and this is what I know:

I’m thankful for my kids, whom I get to raise and love and who make me proud and make me laugh. I’m thankful for second chances throughout the day, so we don’t have to be stuck in bad attitudes and crabby moods. I’m thankful for newfound creativity even in the mess of this year. I’m thankful for quiet hours when I get to work without interruption. I’m thankful for the work I get to do in caring for people’s words and guiding others with my own. I’m thankful that at the end of a long day, I have a comfy bed to fall into and the potential of a new day awaiting me.

I’m thankful for the depth yet simplicity of living out our faith and for Jesus who walked the way ahead of us. All is grace in Him, and all thanks be to Him.

What are you grateful for today?

 

Here’s to a Simple Christmas

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A simple Christmas — don’t we all, to some degree, hope for just this? For an opportunity to opt out of the hustle and bustle this season generally brings?

There always seems to be just so much to do. So many places to be. So much to accomplish. Gifts to purchase and then wrap and then deliver. Cards to order, sign, and send. Cookies to bake, gatherings to host, friends to see. Traditions to uphold, family to visit, floors to scrub.

But this year, many things are different, yet a few big things remain.

It reminds me of the analogy of “big rocks vs. little rocks.” The big rocks of our lives are to be placed into the bucket first. These are our foundations, our top priorities, and values: family, faith, treasured rituals and traditions. Basically, the big rocks are that which we hold most dear. Then the little rocks are placed into the bucket. These are the things that fill the rest of our lives: work, hobbies, activities, family management, and the like. Smaller than big rock items but still meaningful and important.

This Christmas, it feels like most of my little rocks are gone and all that remains in my bucket are the big rocks. And you know, it’s not all bad.

Often we look to Christmas as a kind of anchor for our traditions and celebrations, and this year many of those will not be able to happen or will need to be so modified that they will feel entirely different. But instead of throwing me off, I’m welcoming this rare chance for a simpler Christmas.

A cleared-off calendar, free of concerts, programs, and the need for coordinated outfits. No parties to host, clean, and cook for, purchase and wrap gifts for, or muster up the energy to attend. Fewer people to shop for and more people to pray for.

It’s as though all the extras, the small rocks, for better or not, have been removed, and what’s left are simply the biggest rocks — Christ born, family near, and love all around.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:13 (NIV)

Even in these ever-changing times, God is good, and Christmas will come. Will it look different? Likely. Will we grieve parts of our celebrations that are missing? Yes and that’s okay. Will we ever again have the chance to focus so clearly on the biggest rock of all – preparing for and celebrating the birth of Jesus? Maybe not.

So let’s take it. Let’s shift our focus, difficult as it may be, to entering this holiday season with courageous simplicity rather than grieving our no longer full schedules.

The simple truth is that Christmas faithfully comes to us no matter what.

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us.
John 1:14 (NIV)

Post by Anna E. Rendell

We want you to enjoy a heartfelt, simplified Christmas this year. So we’ve gathered a few of our favorite (in)courage words on this very subject, and we want to share them with you!

Sign up for this FREE Simple Christmas 5-day email series, and we will send you five daily emails with encouragement to be present and celebrate this special season with courageous simplicity. Join us and get your holidays off to a simply great start.

Sign up for the FREE Simple Christmas email series!

Hope and Heartache During the Holidays

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On a fall morning over a decade ago, I sat in a circle of women whose ages and stories varied. We clutched coffee cups and held in our emotions, no one wanting to be the first to share. What did we all have in common? Being part of a class at my church called “Interrupted Expectations.” I, as a counseling intern and co-facilitator, felt the pressure to say something brilliant but instead stared at the carpet.

Our leader, Jan Stockdale, pulled out a box of twenty-four crayons which she said represented our emotions. She showed us the whole range of colors but only pulled out two, black and white. “Most of us,” she said, “were only allowed to experience or express a narrow range of emotions. But what about all the rest?”

Everyone in the group had experienced some kind of loss, whether of a person, job, or dream. I was struggling with infertility. “Loss leads to grief,” Jan said, “and grief leads to messy emotions that aren’t black and white.”

I’ve been thinking of this again recently because humanity has endured a year of loss. Perhaps similar to the ones in my class, but also the loss of normalcy, routine, and a sense of security. Now it’s the holidays, which are supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year — only what if they’re not?

When I think of the crayon all of us are holding right now, that we might not know quite what to do with, it’s disappointment. Psychologist David Brandt has studied disappointment for decades, and he says, “Disappointment is unmet expectation.”

This is a relief to me. I worry sometimes that disappointment is a lack of faith. But that’s not true — it’s simply a human reaction to life not turning out the way we had hoped. It’s an emotion, a crayon in our box, that helps us make sense of loss.

How do we effectively deal with disappointment?

First, we can identify our loss by using this sentence: I hoped to ______ but ______ so I’m disappointed. For example, I hoped to be with my parents for Thanksgiving but COVID-19 kept me from traveling so I’m disappointed.

Then we can ask, “What else am I feeling that’s related to this disappointment?” Jan Stockdale says common emotions are “loneliness, helplessness, fear, jealousy, envy, rejection, depression, rage, anxiety, dread, confusion, panic, disappointment, despair, and resentment.”

We can bring all of what we’re feeling to God.

Next, we can ask, “What do I need right now?” The answer might be a nap, a conversation with a trusted friend, or making an appointment with a counselor. Choose one thing, even if it’s small, and take action.

Finally, Brandt says what helps most with disappointment is gratitude. Why? Because it shifts our focus from what could have been to what actually is.

I have a stack of paper leaves that I like to pull out at Thanksgiving. We pass them around our table and each of us record a blessing from the year. This year I want to do it differently, to set a box of twenty-four crayons on the table then write a disappointment on one side of the leaf and a gift on the other.

Heartache/Hope

Loss/Gain

Hurt/Healing

We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strengthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us.
Romans 5:3-5 NLT (emphasis mine)

God’s love is big enough to handle all of our emotions, strong enough to see us through this hard season, faithful enough to never let us go, and near to us when we need it most and beyond our expectations.

If you (or someone you love) could use a little extra encouragement right now, Holley’s book What Your Heart Needs for the Hard Days might be just what you need.