The Loudest Whispers (#fmf)

    There are moments when the whispers of the Holy Spirit become the loudest things I hear. That still small voice loudly echoes over all the noise in the world in such a way that I can’t help but hear it (I Kings 19:11–12). That voice beckons a response as it ushers in wisdom, clarity and peace. It informs, redirects and leads the way (Isaiah 20:31). In those moments, the loudest thing in the room is the sound of my heart beating—beating with anticipation for things revealed and beating with fear for things unknown. A flurry of thoughts fill my head as I ponder the possibilities of what could be and revisit old dreams. These old dreams carry hints of things to come...things that haven’t died no matter the twists and turns that have happened over the years (Psalm 32:8). These dreams remind me of the still small voice that spoke so loudly years ago. But I ran from that voice because I was scared of the bigness of it all—what if I failed at carrying out what was being asked but what if I succeeded at it, too? Both seemed equally scary.

    Yet this time around, the still small voice loudly reassures me of truth and I now know how to stand firmly in that truth. The voice reminds me of the transformation that has taken place and that I no longer have to run in fear. I now understand that new paths can be forged if the process is welcomed, accepted and endured one step at a time--pacing myself for the long-haul rather than burning out after the first year or two. This transformation speaks loudly of the security that comes from hearing and trusting the Holy Spirit. 

     Once holy whispers become the loudest things we hear, we are able to move forward in new ways because those whispers shout louder than our doubts and fears.

Five Minute Friday (#FMFparty) gives writers a word prompt every Friday. We are encouraged to write whatever comes to mind about that word in just five minutes. No editing, no perfection, only writing from the heart. To find out more, visit Five Minute Friday. This week's word is "LOUD".

 

 
This mixed media response piece was created from two processing finger paintings as I processed through several big things on my mind. I tore up the finger paintings (which is cathartic in itself) to create this piece merging the two lines of thought. This mixed media piece represents the swirling between old and new, past and present, light and dark, trauma and possibilities, stuck and moving forward, and fear and faith. This piece can be turned in different directions. Whether pointing upward or pointing forward to the right, the arrow represents shalom and kairos moments...moments infused with the Holy Spirit...that break through our lives as the Spirit fulfills God’s promises in Psalm 32:8 revealing the paths He has for us.

The Right Time to Write (#fmf)

It has been a couple years since I’ve done a Five Minute Friday! Not exactly sure what happened except that I lost my words. They stopped flowing out of me. And it was scary to lose my words! 

Who am I when I can’t write, when I can’t express the depths of me in old familiar ways, when I lose all of my opinions and cares and become silent? Pain and sheer levels of turmoil, chaos and burnout stored within my heart and mind choked out all flow of words. That pain undeniably cried out to be healed and I couldn’t ignore it any longer. It needed to be cleared out of the way before my words (and my life) could flow freely again! But in order for the pain to be healed, I had to find a different way to speak. 

Slowly, the words began to slide out but they came out in art. Art journaling took the place of blogging as color, doodling and collaging together spoke my truth. Through the pages of my art journals, the deepest and rawest parts of me were being revealed, nurtured, loved, counseled and slowly nursed to a level of health and wholeness that I never knew existed. All that was made wrong was slowly being set right. Years of perseverance, strength and determination to find healing finally led to freedom and transformation. This transformation is finally leading me back to the written word once again! 

But who am I after that journey? How does that journey impact my writing? What do I even want to write about? What is worth saying in a world where everyone has something to say? Where can my voice make a difference? Where can my words bring hope? 

I don’t know the answers to these questions right now, but the right thing to do is to show back up today, to pick up the pen (keyboard?), to remain open to rediscovering my written voice and to offer up my heart and my words to the One who has led me into shalom. My words are back and now is the right time to unleash them once again! 

Five Minute Friday (#FMFparty) gives writers a word prompt every Friday. We are encouraged to write whatever comes to mind about that word in just five minutes. No editing, no perfection, only writing from the heart. To find out more, visit Five Minute Friday. This week's word is "RIGHT”.

A Tribute to My Grandpa

My grandpa passed away on Monday, December 18, 2017, and this is what I shared at his Celebration of Life service the following week. 

Every time we had a school project to do on a hero, my grandpa was the first person I’d go to. The little journalist in me filled my steno-book with questions as I interviewed my grandpa about his days in the Navy, life aboard a ship, the Korean War, and his work at the shipyard. He’d joyfully answer my questions and I took great pride in recording his answers and crafting the perfect presentation to share with my teacher and my classmates because I wanted everyone to know about my grandpa. I wanted my class to know about his bravery, his dedication, his strength, and his faith—for that is what made my grandpa such a hero in my eyes.

Now, fast forward 30 years and I feel like that same little girl today who earnestly wants you to see the greatness that I see in my grandpa. Yet words seem so inadequate because no words can describe the bond that we shared as I was his #1 (he’d always call me that bcs I was his first grandchild.)

My grandpa was the only one I could sit and have a conversation with and never utter a word and I’d leave thinking that was one of the best conversations we’ve ever had. He was an introvert like me and all throughout my life, my favorite times with him centered around sitting together in silence. No words were needed because love, acceptance, and support spoke louder than words. However, when my grandpa did speak, his words were deep, truthful, thankful, and always pointed back to God both in the good and bad times. He enjoyed talking about what God was teaching him and how it intersected with his life. He loved to share memories of my grandma, my mom, and even me and my sister in our younger days and he always shared how He saw God working in our lives. My grandpa was very thankful for his salvation and always spoke of the fact that he was a first-generation Christian. He didn’t grow up knowing God like we did, so every day was a new discovery for him and he tried to live faithfully to God in all that he did.

My grandpa was a strong leader, but also a silent leader. He knew how to command attention with his presence yet he knew how to gently shepherd each heart in his care.

My grandpa’s strength was heard across a room or a sanctuary as he opened his voice to sing or to pray. He sang and prayed with such gusto, conviction, and love for God that everyone knew he believed every word that he sang or spoke.

His strength was seen in the way he led our family as he cherished my grandma, faithfully prayed for each one of us, intentionally spoke God’s Word to us as we shared our lives with him, and consciously praised God for both the trials and the blessings.

What I enjoyed about my grandpa was that he was as serious about life as I was. He was always willing to talk deeply and would explore different ideas with me whether it was something spiritual or envisioning what God could do in ministry or an intriguing subject at school or figuring out motherhood. He always listened to whatever I had to say as if it was the most important thing that could be said in that moment for he knew the gift and joy of being present in the moment without distractions. My grandpa is the one that taught me the most about what God must be like and his example continually pushed me to search for more of God because I wanted to be a wise person of strength just like him.

            Yesterday, Psalm 100:5 really jumped out at me—“For the Lord is good and His faithful love endures forever; his faithfulness through all generations.” This is something my grandpa believed. He was able to be faithful to God because he experienced God’s faithfulness for himself.

I used to wonder what does God’s faithfulness look like and can God be as faithful to me as He has been to my grandpa and then I look at what all as has unfolded since my grandpa died last week. Less than 12 hours after we buried my grandpa, my husband was in the ER with heart attack symptoms. 24 hours after that, we were back in the ER and admitted overnight. It seemed so surreal to be going through all of this because I was still trying to grasp the fact that my grandpa is gone. But this is where I got to experience that same faithfulness my grandpa so often spoke of. God’s faithfulness showed up in His peace and comfort. And He is showing up in all the ways that our friends, family, and church family are loving us and taking care of us. God was in the details already knowing that this is too much for one family to handle, but yet He faithfully provided ways for us to walk through it.

In that long night at the hospital, I couldn’t help but think about the many times my grandpa sat by my grandma’s side, loving her, watching her, praying over her, and reading His Bible to help both of them get through as I did the same thing with my husband. And once again, my grandpa’s example of strength challenged me to keep seeking God and looking for His faithfulness and that is what allows me to stand here before you today.

Because God was faithful to my grandpa, my grandpa lived a life of faithfulness to Him. Because of my grandpa’s faithfulness, 3 generations of our family have been able to know God and have been invited to experience the faithfulness of God, too.

Anyone related to my grandpa is very familiar with his heart’s desire and it’s found in 3 John 1:4—“I have no greater joy than this: to hear that my children are walking in truth.” My grandpa knew the truth, walked in the truth, and died in truth knowing that he will not only be with my grandma but with his Heavenly Father forever and he wants that same truth to be our truth!

My grandpa’s life teaches us that, real strength comes from walking in the truth. That truth is ONLY found in the Word of God and through the Holy Spirit weaving that Word into our lives. That kind of truth goes far beyond church attendance, ministry involvement, and keeping up a polished Christian image. The kind of truth my grandpa lived by was a day-to-day, step-by-step kind of truth as he sought after God and banked on God’s love and faithfulness to get him through everything.

So while the little journalist in me knows to conclude this by repeating the topic sentence of why my grandpa is my hero, what I really want to say is that his death brings a loss that I have never known before. He has been such a rock to me throughout my 40 years. But while the tears and heartache will last for awhile, my grandpa taught all of us who knew him everything we need to know to make it here without him. He didn’t leave us empty-handed and lost, but rather he continues to encourage us to live and thrive by fulfilling the simple affirmation of  3 John 1:4—“I have no greater joy than this: to hear that my children are walking in truth.”

Theologian Albert Barnes from the 1800s writes “There is nothing that would give more peace to the dying pillow of the Christian parent [or grandparent], than to be able to leave the world with the assurance that his children would always walk in truth." That is all my grandpa ever wanted from us. May we remember that, and may we seek after truth and live to experience God’s faithfulness just like he did!      

When Christmas Isn’t Christmas

At the beginning of December, I found myself really drawn into Matthew 1:23—“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.'” (HCSB)

 “...Immanuel, which is translated ‘God is with us’”…the longer I pondered the fact that a name could hold such meaning in life and survive a crucifying death, the more “God is with us” kept stirring in my heart. 

Two weeks before Christmas, I wanted to weave "Immanuel—God is with us" into the devotional for the Upward basketball teams for it was a message that the youngest kindergartner to the oldest coach could understand. I remember ending the devotional with something like "God is with us when we are happy. God is with us when we are sad. He is with us when we are scared or unsure what to do. We are never alone. So when you celebrate Christmas, remember that God is with us right now, not just as Baby Jesus, but He is real and really with us.” Little did I know that this thought would become a defining theme this Christmas! 

My son, NoNut, and I had our week leading up to Christmas planned with our favorite traditions like decorating cookies, finishing our Christmas shopping, doing more Christmas baking, playing Santa at the cancer center, caroling, making and delivering special gifts to our bank tellers and those who routinely serve us. We had our growing pile of Christmas story books, blankets to snuggle up under, mugs of hot chocolate to drink, and our usual Christmas movie line up. We began Christmas week celebrating Christmas only to find out mere hours later (not even long enough for our sugar cookie dough to chill) that my grandpa was at home taking his last breath. My world came crashing down as I got the call that my grandpa, who was like a father to me, unexpectedly and quietly passed away. It was hard to comprehend the news because we were supposed to have seen him later that day, take him to go see Christmas lights, play games with him, and have some fun Christmas adventures. But instead, we were left burying him 3 days before Christmas Eve. 

We were supposed to be getting ready for Christmas not standing next to my grandpa’s casket staring at it blankly trying to determine if this is really happening or not. And then less than 12 hours after burying my grandpa, my husband, PaNut, ended up in the emergency room with heart attack symptoms. The doctors determined that he didn’t have a heart attack but something was going on but he was stable so they sent him home in the wee hours of the morning. We were home all day and in the wee hours of the next morning, we were back at the emergency room and admitted overnight. It was so surreal. What do you do in moments like that?! I had no idea except that time keeps marching on and you just have to roll with it and figure it out as you go.

Earlier at the graveside, I kept thinking how much it stinks that we are burying my grandpa at Christmas—it wasn’t supposed to be this way! We didn’t get to have our Christmas memories with him! And what do you do when you have presents for someone sitting under the Christmas tree and suddenly they aren't there to open them? How do you even have Christmas without someone who has spent every single Christmas with you? And then as I looked at PaNut laying in the hospital bed so pale, uncertain, and scared instead of the strong, unwavering rock that he is, I felt this presence rush over me. The word “Immanuel” came to mind whispering “God is with us” as a mother would whisper comfort to a crying baby.

Immanuel—it’s a name that brings promise, hope, peace, and comfort. It’s a name that brought strength that carried us through the funeral and then both hospital stays. “God is with us” was reiterated in countless ways—through texts, visits, prayers (definitely the countless prayers!), and support. We saw that God wasn’t just with PaNut and I in the hospital, but He was also with NoNut and with our family who cared for him even though all of us were emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually depleted after my grandpa’s death and funeral.

It was really hard being away from NoNut knowing that he was still trying to understand what the funeral was all about and that his great grandpa was gone and now wondering if PaNut would be okay. But NoNut demonstrated a lot of courage and bravery through all of this. He showed a maturity about him that surpassed his years. I had to trust that God also had NoNut in His hands and trust that our family and friends were reassuring NoNut in my place. But God kept leading me to Psalm 91:11-12 to pray for not only my child but for PaNut and I—“For He will give His angels orders concerning you, to protect you in all your ways. They will support you with their hands so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.” These verses became warrior verses. I actually had plenty of time while trying to sleep in the hospital chair to envision what angel protection must look like! [lol, “Whom Shall I Fear/God of Angel Armies” song kept running through my mind!] Each image of angel protection helped refuel my confidence that God IS with us.

A LOT happened at the emergency room both times—especially the second time. Yet in the midst of all the tests and waiting and more tests, there were big and small “Immanuel moments” where God was letting us know that He was with us--actually, He never left us. 

God demonstrated that He was with us by sending a childhood friend our way that I haven’t seen in years. She is a doctor as well as oversees the residency program and happened to be on call that weekend. She normally doesn’t go down the wing we were on but she did and my dad just happened to step outside of our unit thereby crossing paths with her. She was a God-send who walked with us through the whole ordeal, explained hospital procedures, convinced me to go eat and step away from PaNut for awhile, and she later sat with PaNut while I talked to friends in the lobby. She checked in on us after hours, and then a couple times the next day. Her presence helped us get excellent care as well as gave us resolve to speak up where needed for PaNut's care.

After PaNut was finally settled in his room, I was able to run home and get some things for our overnight stay. I also got to spend some time with NoNut and simply hug him and reassure him that God is with us no matter what happens and we will get through this. But I didn't realize how much we were in this intense funeral/hospital bubble until I crossed the threshold and took the longest, deepest breath ever. I looked around the living room at the darkened Christmas tree, remnants of Christmas festivities suddenly halted, shopping still undone and Christmas Eve the next day, and it hit me how unfair this is…this is NOT the Christmas I ever imagined. I sounded like a whining child as I shared my thoughts with God. When I was done, all I heard in reply was that quiet phrase “Immanuel—God is with us.” And then it hit me!

What if maybe this Christmas was supposed to be so totally different for us so that way we would understand what Christmas is truly about? What if we needed different to shake us up a little bit more (as if the events of 2017 haven’t been enough) so we could let go of our Baby Jesus view of God in order to cling to a Kingdom-type of God that we can’t comprehend but who wants to be with us anyway and who has been with us and will always be with us?

And then I got to thinking how Immanuel isn’t just a name. Rather, his name describes the lifestyle in which Immanuel walked when He was here on earth as He followed after God and did what He saw the Father doing. Immanuel describes an all-encompassing plan that was started long before His birth and continues to unfold long after His death. Immanuel is not only a name of the past but it's a name of the present because it leads the way to the future. It’s a name that conveys an everlasting love that extends far beyond our current circumstances.

As I pondered this and saw how just how much my Christmas got turned upside down in a matter of days and how everything that was supposed to be now wasn’t, the word “Immanuel” and it’s meaning of “God with us” began to usher in a different kind of Christmas--maybe the simplest yet truest form of Christmas that we've ever experienced. I could no longer mutter "This isn't fair" under my breath or feel hurt that God didn't at least let me say good-bye to my grandpa, because somehow in the midst of all of this, we were discovering the reality of Immanuel--how He lives up to His name, how He is with us, how He carries us by His grace, and how His grace somehow comforts even the deepest heartaches and holds the scariest fears.  

2017 has been a year of seeking freedom and learning to embrace what freedom means. Through this journey, I’ve been discovering that freedom is ultimately about removing all that prevents us from truly knowing God. Freedom lets us see things we weren’t able to see before which allows us to experience God firsthand rather than see Him from the sidelines working in others while wondering how to make Him real in our lives. When we walk in freedom, there is fresh room for the Holy Spirit to take the things we read in the Bible and weave them into our very being so that in moments of crisis, there is this surety that we can lean on Him and that He will take care of us. There is nothing manufactured about that kind of faith or freedom. There isn’t any box-checking with real Spirit work. It’s when we are our truest selves in the moment and really have no clue what’s next and can totally lean back rest in the Spirit that we fully know that God is with us—that Immanuel is who He says He is and He is ever worthy of that name.

Though PaNut made it home in time for Santa Claus to visit and we slept away most of Christmas Day and though we still don’t know why it’s taking PaNut awhile to recover and he’s having more tests done, there has been an undercurrent of peace as I know, without a doubt, that God is with us. There isn’t any guessing or hoping that He is with us because He IS with us. There isn’t any reviewing if I’ve been good enough by Christian standards nor wondering if this is some kind of punishment because, God IS with us. Immanuel’s presence dispels any doubts. And when I start to doubt that, Ephesians 1 reminds me that because of Immanuel, God truly is with us. 

There were a couple nights last week when anxiety hit hard and it was an all-out battle to rest in the promise of Immanuel, but God’s words remained sweet reassurances in the midst of it all. Psalm 91:11-12 with the vision of angels surrounding us and protecting us stayed with me beyond the hospital. Because God is with me, I am not the mess I feared I would be when the dust finally settled from the funeral and hospital. Yet I can also grieve knowing God is with me and that He is holding me and giving me what is needed to still meet the challenges of each day in order carry on with life and to find a new normal for our family.

So this week when Upward basketball reconvened, I followed up on the “Immanuel—God is with us” theme/devotional and told the kids that our Christmas wasn’t very merry because of what happened. However, this Christmas is where I learned that God really is with us, just as He said. Immanuel is real. I got to share some ways that we knew God was with us and how God used the little acts of love that others showed us to reassure us that He was with us. I wanted to use our experience to encourage the children to find ways to be Jesus to others whether it’s giving a high-five on the court or cheering for a teammate in order to remind each other that God IS with us. We are NOT alone...never!!

A Messy Pizza & the Cross

Last week, God used a homemade stuffed crust pizza to illustrate my life versus His life. This followed recent conversations in which more than one friend pointed out blind spots of my "perfectionistic tendencies" that were spilling over into relationships and even into church life.

As I was looking at the pizza that I pulled out of the oven, I was struck with how much my focus has shifted away from where it used to be (God). This semester, I've spent more time trying to make my life look like the middle of the pizza...you know, the nice, neat, smooth, evenly cut slices--the kind that just look perfect all the way around! But the truth is, my life is more like the entire right edge of that pizza.

When I made the pizza, I carefully wrapped the string cheese in the crust. It looked semi-professional and promising! Yet ten minutes later, it looked anything but professional. It looked messy as the cheese kept oozing out of the crust.

Oh, how I have felt like that string cheese for the past six weeks because life has taken many unexpected twists and turns and disappointment and discouragement want to be my constant companions. I've tried so hard to stay within this nice, neat little crust of life, but yet I'm just oozing out everywhere! As the cheese oozes further and further, there is no way to control it. It has a life of its own as it slowly covers up all that looks good.

As I compared the contrasting middle slices to the end slices, God reminded me that even though the mess looks messy, it is still full of goodness. The edges may unravel, our cheesy mess may ooze out and cover that which we perfectly crafted, but it doesn't alter the fact that it’s still a pizza and it's still good. The not-so-stuffed crust gives the pizza character, questions, and a story. It's a picture of reality when we try so hard to cover the mess yet it all spills out anyway.

That night, I purposefully didn't eat the edge pieces because I was so desperately craving order and control in my life. I didn't want the mess regardless of how wonderful it would’ve tasted (as if I thought not eating the edge was a way of telling God what I really thought—oh, the totally immature and embarrassing games we play with God).

Since that night, the pizza image kept coming to mind as I've felt stuck in the same place I always get stuck at in life. It’s the same story, different year, different season...surely, there has got to be a different way!

Yet, the way to overcome is one that means looking straight at Christ like never before. It means overcoming all the hang-ups I have about "religion" and seeing that the cross isn't a religion, it's a way of life. It’s turning a lifetime of knowing about God into truly knowing Him. It's taking the things I learned during my first semester at Seminary and running it through the underlying question of every class and every chapel: "How does the gospel inform [fill in the blank with your current situation]?".

That question is a question I've been so afraid of answering and have been trying to run from because the answers scare me. They require letting go of every thought, every action, and every belief that runs contrary to God. It means living into a new identity (rather than continuing to study what our true identity is but failing to claim it). It means letting go of thoughts that keep me stuck in a rut. It means seeing the decision to believe in black and white. Because when anything is held up next to the cross, we see how futile it is. We see where God wants to break in with His love. We see where the power of God that raised Christ from the dead is our power to cling to and to use so we are never alone. We see a love that encompasses every petty thing that is said or done to us so that words no longer matter and our response is to simply love back.

I finally decided to do something about it because warring against God is wasting time, squandering Kingdom opportunities, and keeping me stuck in this same place. It's declaring that I still desire myself over God and if that's the case, it's time to make some decisions to step away from certain ministry roles for it only leaves a path of confusion and disappointment for me and others.  

When I sat down with a new three-subject notebook, God wasted no time in filling up the first page! Last semester, a professor suggested highlighting all the places in the Bible that say something about who God is. So, the first subject area in this notebook is a "God is ______" section where I write down everything that is revealed about God in whatever passage I read that day. It just so happened that it was Romans 8 ... one page later and I wasn't even done writing out who God is from the chapter. Halfway through the list, I'm like, "God, why do I so easily forget who You are? Why do I run away so much when You offer everything I could ever need and want?"

The second subject area is "Lies vs. Truth" -- one column is for the lies I believed today about God, myself, and/or others. The other column is to write out God's truth. It’s to a point where I need to stop dancing around the lies and justifying them and see them for what they are…I just didn’t expect to see the complete pettiness and downright falseness that I entertain in my mind compared to the wholeness of the truth. And it left me crying out to God, "Why do I wallow in lies when it's so obvious they are lies? Why do I remain blind when You’ve given us truth to speak into every situation?”

The last subject area is two parts--"The Gospel & Gratitude". It's where I take situations and/or people and hold them up to the cross and ask, "God, how does the gospel inform this situation? Or, how does the gospel inform the way I am to respond to this person?" And when doing that, it has a way of highlighting hope and purpose. It reminds me of my value and new identity—the overcoming, persevering, victorious one. It reminds me how powerful the cross is and that we are never alone in these situations.

Life can come at us from all different angles, but the reality is that we are secure in the cross and everything we need to face life is found in God. That produces a spirit of thankfulness and positivity that isn't there when we focus on all that is wrong and how much something hurts. There is always goodness to be found!  It's kind of like that pizza--the mess may look messy, but the taste is undeniable goodness!

Leave it to God to use a pizza to illustrate His point!

“You have your heads in your Bibles constantly because you think you’ll find eternal life there. But you miss the forest for the trees. These Scriptures are all about Me! And here I am, standing right before you, and you aren’t willing to receive from Me the life you say you want.”  John 5:39-40 (Message)

“There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who do not walk according to the flesh, but according to the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus has made me free from the law of sin and death.” Romans 8:1-2

“But if the Spirt of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, He who raised Christ from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you.” Romans 8:11

“For you did not receive the spirit of bondage again to fear, but you received the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit Himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ, if indeed we suffer with Him, that we may also be glorified together.” Romans 8:15-17  

Go read Romans 8 – it is filled with answers to “God is…” and truths to defeat every lie we tend to believe!