27 | Be Strong

I want to be strong.  Lean.  Fit.  Powerful.  Toned.  

metro.co.uk

bleacherreport.com

But I have a pear-shaped body, a love of salty and sweet, and a series of minor injuries that have made it hard to stick to an exercise regimen.

So that picture of strong is not part of the current chapter of my life.

I want to be strong.  Successful.  Wise.  Influential.

Maya Angelou via www.eurweb.com

Sting via uthmag.com

Well, I've got a master's degree.  I can help my kiddos with their math homework. But successful?  I'm not even sure how to measure success in motherhood, church work, and substitute teaching with a side of tutoring.  My kids haven't broken bones or been suspended from school.  I've got enough work to keep me busy and out of trouble, and I truly enjoy what I do.  Influential?  Judging from my inability to get my kiddos to pick up their shoes off the mudroom floor...  Um.  No.  And I definitely don't have the recognition of Maya Angelou or Sting.  

So that picture of strong is not fully clear in this stage of my life.

I want to be strong. Resilient. Ready to handle whatever challenges come my way.

But there are days I end up in tears, dialing my Mr. for empathy and support.  There are days I detest the way I parent, feeling crabby to the core and leaving a legacy of frustrated fuming.  There are days I just want to crawl back into bed and pull the covers over my head.  And some days I actually do.

I know this: I'm not strong enough on my own.

Thank the Lord I don't have to be strong enough on my own.  My strength starts and ends with God.  When I quiet the voices of fear, breathe deep past my weakness, and become still in God's presence, he provides everything I need.

I lift my eyes up to the hills — from where will my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. Psalm 121:1-2

The very same God who created heaven and earth, all the goodness we see, watches over us and lifts us up.  The very same God who kept the Israelites strong with manna through 40 years of wandering in the wilderness — he will keep us strong in our faith and through our earthly trials.  The very same God who gave Paul the ability to find joy in his many trials and imprisonments, he will buoy up our spirits so we can rise above our troubles.

homegrownhospitality.typepad.com

We can lift our worries up in prayer, we can leave our fears at the foot of the cross. God will be our strength and our help in times of trouble.  The only strength we need is the muscle and will to look up to our Lord, the power to stretch out our hand for his help.

The Lord is with us, wherever we go.  God will lead us to and through whatever he has planned for us.  He doesn't just promise to be our strength and our help, he commands us to trust in his powerful assistance to the point where we clothe ourselves in his strength and courage.

spiritualinspiration.tumblr.com

And when we pull on God's strength, when we adorn ourselves with God's dignity, we can not only weather our trials and troubles, we can laugh at them and through them.  That's my favorite type of strength — a sense of humor that holds us up when the world seems like it is going to pull us down.

parenthood.com.au

let-her-bloom.tumblr.com

I want that kind of strength.  Trusting courage that laughs in the face of adversity. Fearlessness that allows me to look up and look on the lighter side of things. Strength and lifts me up to a place of spiritual joy.  Because this world, in all it's wonderfulness and worrisomeness, this world's got nothing on me and my God.

Won't you join me in praying for and praising God's powerful, joyful strength?

Lord,

Words cannot express how grateful I am that I don't need to go it alone.  I don't need to be strong enough.  I don't need to be strong at all.  You are my strength, through thick and thin, now and forever.

All I need to do is turn to you, to hand my worries and fears over to you.  You will take them in your powerful grasp and squeeze them into dry dust.  You are bigger than any fear or worry I will ever encounter.

Thank you for infusing me with your strength when this world drags me down and demands stretch me thin.  Thank you for gifting me with the ability to breathe deep through my battles, to laugh in the face of my fears.  

When I elevate to your perspective, when I rise up on the wings of your strength, my outlook lifts.  I can weather anything and everything.  Mountains surprisingly become molehills.  Groans ridiculously become giggles.  It makes no sense, and it makes all the sense in the world.  Because you've got the whole world in your hands, and at the end of the story we'll be holding hands in heaven.  I look forward to the joy we will share that day.

Amen.

11 | Be Rescued

Nobody wants to have to be rescued. 

We are "can do" creatures — especially us women, as we are pushing back against generations of limitations. 

We want to be strong. Self sufficient. Reliable, not reliant. Accomplished and ambitious, not needy or brought to our knees. 

So why "be rescued"?

We need to be rescued because we are human. Sinners. Broken. If not in this moment, then in sometime to come.  

We can deny it and hide it under a cloak of competence. And certainly sometimes we need to do just that to get us through a dark day or a rough patch. 

But there is an alternative. 

Be still in Jesus. 

Joe Viyh on flickr.com

Be rescued by his love, his sacrifice, his resurrection. Accept your brokenness so you can be built up in his grace. 

When we release this burden of constant can-do creaturedom, when we make space for God to work within us, we can relax. We can be refueled. We can be rescued. 

Kristin's Paperie on Etsy.com

God wants to do that for us because he loves us. He doesn't expect us to do all the work to save ourselves and everyone around us. Remember Martha?  All that work just makes worry. Remember Mary?  God invites us— expects us — to be still, to surrender our heavy loads. When we surrender to our Redeemer, he can lift us up and build us up to be his best work in us. 

God's power is made perfect on our imperfection. 

God's grace works by his love, by our faith -- not by our works. 

Today, let's take off our Wonder Woman capes, our Batman bravado. Let's be vulnerable and inviting to God's rescue through Jesus' resurrection. 

mannaeveryday.tumblr.com

Lord,

I have burdened myself with expectations that I can do it all, that I need to do it all. 

Please rescue me from this mindset. Help me to remember the kind of relationship you want with me. A relationship built on prayerfully surrendering burdens. A relationship built on releasing my responsibilities so I can relax into your peace. 

In this soft, still moment today, I ask you to take me away from my "To do"s, from my shoulds and woulds and coulds. It is not my work you want, but my trust and my faith. Clear away my can-do clutter so that there is space in my heart, my mind, and my soul for your grace. 

Make space in my heart, my mind, and my soul for YOUR GRACE.

Your Grace. 

I sit at your feet, precious lord. I soak up your deep and abiding love. I wonder at your willingness to lead me through every trouble, every doubt, every effort and ambition with your wisdom and your word. Thank you for your powerful presence. 

And throughout this day, help me to remember that I don't have to be powerful or super human or constantly competent. Help me to remember that my cracks and flaws are there for a reason -- they serve as portals through which you can pour your salvation.  

For your rescue and your grace, I am so grateful. 

Amen



A couple more slices of inspiration when you're not sure you want to be rescued, or if you even can be rescued...

weandserendipity.com

homegrownhospitality.typepad.com

9 | Be Forgiven

Do you like Jimmy John's?  I like Jimmy John's.  Here's my favorite thing about dining there.  (Ha!  I say "dining" like it's a fancy schmancy place.  But as long as I'm not cooking and cleaning, it does feel downright fancy schmancy.)

Jimmy John's has great signs.

Their signs are entertaining, educational, and great reminders about how to live a good life.  Take, for instance, this one about "proper apologies."

Wampa-One via flickr.com

I've used this three-part rule with my kiddo, my students, and even myself.  It's a little hard to read, so let me transcribe.

Proper Apologies Have Three Parts

1.  What I did was wrong.
2.  I feel badly that I hurt you.
3.  How can I make this better.

I love how this formula focuses not just on the mistake, but the ramifications and the restitution of the problem.

What does this have to do with stillness?  Good question.

I don't know about you, but sometimes when I'm having trouble being still before God, or when I'm plain old avoiding God, it's because I'm stuck on one of the three parts of apologizing for one of my many sins.  Have you ever seen a fidgety kid, caught in the act of true naughtiness, squirming to find some way out of the laser-like focus of a parent?  Yep.  It's hard to be still when we are confronted with our sin.

When I find myself shouldering a doozy of a mistake, squirming to get out from under its weight, I need to unload that shame.  I have to let it go at the foot of the cross, where Jesus died so that we might be saved from our sins.  Where God stands ready to take our mistakes, forgive them, and forget them, casting them to the opposite corner of the world.

"I, even I, am he who blots out your transgressions, for my own sake, and remembers your sins no more."  Isaiah 43:25

God not only forgives, he chooses to forget.  He removes our sins from us, placing it far, far away, “as far as the east is from the west” (Psalm 103:12).

Jesus paid for our sins once.  One-time payment with the all-time selfless, loving act of sacrifice.  We don't need to keep sacrificing, keep burdening ourselves with them. That just burdens our relationship with God.  All we need to do is offer up a proper apology.

So why do I hang on to my sins?  Why am I reluctant to embrace God's grace and forgiveness?  Why do I continue to squirm in shame? 

biblia.com

I wish I knew.  But what I do know is this: God will get me to true and lasting belief that my sins are forgiven and gone.

If I repent by 1) acknowledging my mistakes, 2) admitting to how they hurt God, others, and myself, and 3) turning back to God seeking his better way, then God promises complete and perfect forgiveness.  He clears the way for me to be made new in Christ.

So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! 

2 Corinthians 5:17

I need signs to remind me of this, to break me out of my doubts about complete and permanent forgiveness.  So I can really let go and let God to a new thing in me.  So I created these over at canva.com and I'm using them as book marks, note paper, signs on the mirror, you name it.  If you like signs, too, feel free to click on the caption below your favorite image(s) for a link to a free printable.  You can't have too many reminders to embrace God's grace!

Fresh Start

Embrace God's Grace

Forgiven Forever!

2 Corinthians 5:17
image credit: Amy Westerman Photography

Will you please join me in this prayer of releasing our past mistakes for the forgiven stillness of the present?

Lord,  

You know the thoughts of my heart before I even voice them.  You know the sins I hang onto even though you've promised forgiveness.  

Help me to release this guilt, this shame, this clinging to the past.  Help me to embrace your grace-filled forgiveness, to feel comfortable being made shiny new and squeaky clean in your love, and to be open to the spacious room that makes in our relationship.  Where I harbor doubt and question my worth, remind me that your grace is not about what I've done or not done, but instead about your loving goodness toward me.  

I accept this free gift, no strings attached.  I cut the lingering cobwebby strands of my shame so I can walk, light and free, in your footsteps.  And I promise to hold dear the signs and reminders that I am forgiven and made new in Christ.

Amen.

7 | Surrendering in the Stillness

After I published yesterday's piece about "When Being Still Is Hard," it got a lot harder.

I set out on an easy three-mile run.  (I've learned over the years that the weekly or bi-weekly short run is all my body can take.)  Just as I'm coasting into that two-mile autopilot, no-effort mode, it happened.

Uneven sidewalk.  Lunging dog.  Tight hamstring.  Tear.  Treacherous tumble.

Twenty minutes of praise-filled prayer, of lead-me-Lord listening, torn out from under me.  Flat on my fanny, I pulled out my phone to call for a ride.  The spiraling dots were dialing down to a dead battery.

Talk about feeling disconnected.  Nevermind the fact that this week I have no access to either of my work emails from two different organizations for mysterious, Poltergeisty reasons.  Nevermind that the two aged laptops we own are wheezing and freezing, and the wifi needs unplugging and replugging on a daily basis. Disconnected.  Minding the gaps — physical, technological, social — minding them very much, indeed.

The mile walk home was a downward spiral from "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me" to a bitter pity party.  My spiritual battery was dying, too.  I was mad at God for the recent sequence of events on top of years of problematic patterns.  All the wounded disconnections stormed up into a cold silence by the time I walked the last blocks home.  "I can do all things" subsided to a whimpering "why even try?"

That whole mile I wanted to by physically still, but I needed to get home.  That whole afternoon I wanted to deliver a spiritual silent treatment to God, not enjoy any spiritual stillness.  But God kept pointing me to his home of love and grace.

Geri Madera Photography

Fastforward four hours to the MRI lab.  Thirty-six minutes of forced stillness. Preceded by worries about potential surgery and twitching legs and loud robotic bleats and bursts.  Yet those thirty-six minutes turned out to be pure gift.  Pure gift of prayer that went from self-pity to petitions for friends who are in much more dire straits than myself.  I became engrossed in lifting up Chronic Fatigue Syndrome and throat cysts and deep grief and cancerous brain spots.  Amidst the robotic machinations of the MRI, my prayers melted from robotic supplications to heartfelt lifting of friends on pallets, lowering them through the roof to Jesus' healing presence.  My prayers melted from "Why me?" to "Can you?" to "You promise, and I believe."

Confession: I don't normally pray with that kind of passion and trust.

I don't know how to do it without feeling skeptical or just plain weird.  But I do know it happened yesterday, by the grace of God.  Literally.  In the moment where I surrendered my worries, accepted my current state, and whispered (without moving a muscle) for help, God entered my prayers and filled them with all the faith I didn't have.  It was a stillness that was situationally forced and spiritually freeing.  All I had to do was let go.  That, and fall in a clumsy, crazy, contorted way.

ibibleverses.christianpost.com

Interpretation:  God is still working in me to get better at this Being Still thing.

Just when I think I've figured out what he wants me to do, to say, to share, God brings me back to doing things in his time and in his way.  Being still is not for me to think my way through, to figure out on my own.  It's not just, as I wrote yesterday, me inviting God into my moment of slow.  Being still is God's invitation for me to come to a full stop — to trust and to surrender, so he can fill and overflow.  Because what God brings to the stillness is so much more powerful than anything I can ever offer.

Philippians 2:13 from VersifyLife.com

And with that, I'm going to just shut up for today.  But not before I leave you with this prayer.

Lord,  

My ideas for what is possible in my relationship with you are so humanly limited.  

I pray that you blow wide open the realm of possibility for our time together.  Where I seek space, I ask you to create your own peaceful dwelling place.  Where I seek silence, I ask you to fill it with your living word.  Where I seek sanctuary in the midst of busy, I ask you to make my business all about being a living, breathing, walking, talking sanctuary that glorifies you.   

And where I try to keep hold of the reins, I implore you to take them from my controlling clutches, take them under your divine direction, and teach me to surrender to your serenity. 

Amen.

Summer School

School may be out, but I've learned a thing or two this summer.  For instance...

Don't stare a big hairy goal in the face.  
It's too intimidating.  Check it out one little piece at a time.  Look at the toes first, then the ankle bone, and before you know it you're at the elbow and the arm pit. (All strange, funny parts that are interesting in unexpected ways.)  That's been my approach for reading every book of the Bible (something I started long ago, but am determined to finish this year).  I'm 73% percent done, and God is teaching me so much about perseverance in the process.

via YoungCatholicWomen.com

Embrace interruptions.  
They come bearing gifts.  Like giggles and hugs.  Heart to heart talks.  Job opportunities.  Glimpses of God.  And my eight-year-old's new love of cribbage, which floods me with memories of playing cards with my grandpa.  The laundry can always wait.

from Whimsy Studios

Check your laundry hoses every five years.
When they go, they go big and they go badly.  A week ago our hot water laundry hose ruptured.  Water sprayed all over the laundry room.  Which, when you are upstairs in bed after a long summer day, sounds just like the washer tub filling.  Which, by the time you find it at 6:57 the next morning, looks like three inches of standing water in the basement.  Which, in your groggy, disbelieving, pre-coffee-stimulated brain, makes you wonder why the previous owners' moved the laundry room to the opposite side of the basement from the floor drain.  It's kind of funny how thousands of dollars of damage and a week (and counting) of inconvenience can be avoided with a $28 pair of braided hoses and five minutes of labor.  

When crisis makes you crazy, pray.
I can handle the flood, the mess, the little bits of loss.  But it's the interminable noise of the 11 industrial fans that has been pushing me over the edge.  That and some pre-menopausal hormonal hullaballoo.  
I am so glad for digital, visual reminders that God is on standby, waiting for my prayers, waiting to carry me through crazy times.

from Lee Younger

from BornToMakeAnImpact@tumblr

I am so glad I can unload my burdens on God, then reload with his saving grace, all in a few prayerful moments.  And when God answers with a neighbor coming by to swoop up two bored and whining kids... Aaaaahhhh.  He IS so very good!

Seek the silver lining.
In response to the aforementioned basement flood, I am so grateful for plastic storage tubs, for shelving units 4" off the floor, for hard wood furniture that doesn't wick up moisture, and for the opportunity to purge our collection of stuff.  We didn't lose much that truly mattered.  And we have so much that many people don't ever get to take for granted.  Running water.  A sturdy roof over our heads.  An abundance of towels.  Helpful family and friends.  The list is endless...

via CreativeTryals.blogspot.com

Thank you, God, for giving me a teachable heart.  And a dry basement.  And inspiration all around. Amen.

I'm linking up with Emily at Chatting at the Sky today.  She is one big slice of my inspiration pie.

23 | Loving and Living God's Word

The sovereign Lord has given me an instructed tongue, to know the word that sustains the weary.  He wakens me morning by morning, wakens my ear to listen like one being taught.

Isaiah 50:4

Lord, 

You know I love a good letter.  Handwritten or typed.  Fancy stationery or crumpled loose leaf.  Long and newsy, short and heartfelt, meandering and conversational...  Any which way, the written word is like a prize, like capturing the sun sparkling upon the water and holding it in my hand.  

I love your letters most of all.  Your books of wisdom.  Your poems of praise.  Your gospel of love and promise.  Your guidance and goodness captured in the Bible.  Thank you for this book that I return to again and again, always finding something new, even in the most worn pages and passages.

Guide me with your word.  Nudge me to consult the Bible more often, to meditate and reflect on the wisdom and direction you provide there.  And when I falter during the day, help me to turn to you and hear the words you have written on my heart.  Give me a thirst and a mind for memorizing scripture, so that your word leaps forth when I need your encouragement and understanding.

Thank you for your word, God.  Thank you for the wisdom and insight of the Bible, and for the power and passion of your Living Word, Jesus Christ.  Help me to live your good word and share it with others.

Amen.

10 | Home Sweet Home

May this post find you in a safe and sacred place that feels like home.

My people will live in peaceful dwelling places, in secure homes, in undisturbed places of rest.

Isaiah 32:18

Dear Lord, 

As I look around our house that Mr. and I just cleaned yesterday for our Bible Study gathering, I am so grateful for this home, currently clutter free and orderly, solidly built and protecting our loved ones.  When we keep on top of the daily detritus, it is a home that welcomes our family and friends, a space that embraces us with peace.  Thank you for breathing your joy and faith-filled fellowship into our home last night; thank you for providing safe shelter for us each day.

In addition to thanks, I also have to utter pleas for forgiveness.  Forgive us for the quarrels and tantrums and nagging that go into taking care of our house.  Forgive us for the ugly emotional dirt behind the picking up and the cleaning.  Those battles gnaw at our souls.  I desperately want to find a better way to tend our home and hearth so that the heart of our home drums out a beat that is strong, loving, true.  Give us patience and creativity along with sponges and mops and garbage cans.  Give us thankful hearts as we dust and polish the provisions you have entrusted to us.

Lord, I want our home to be a serene, welcome sanctuary where we can rest our souls and bodies.  Help me to tend to the spiritual needs of our family and home, as well as the physical needs.  Help me to make this space a soft landing place.  I need deep breaths as I unlock the door.  I need warm hugs as I embrace loved ones returning home and guests crossing the threshold.  I need attentive ears to embrace hurts and victories, hard questions and slow answers.  I need soft words to coach, encourage, help and heal.  

What I most need is you, central and strong, abiding in our abode.  Make sure I make our home a sanctuary for you.  Help me to fill it with literal and figurative reminders of your absolute power and your saving grace.  Help me to clothe it in things that encourage quiet time with you.  Help me to clear it of the clutter that distracts and distorts your message of unconditional love.

I pray that today — as I swipe the sink and deodorize the dirty laundry — you will help me to foster the attitudes that cradle us in our abode, invite us to comfortably be ourselves, and encourage us to connect faithfully with each other and with you, our Living Lord.  Please make yourself so very comfortably at home in our humble home.

Amen.

How is God making your home a sanctuary for him and for your family?  How can your living space clearly point to our Living Lord?

There are dozens of fabulous 31 Dayers dedicated to making their homes safe sanctuaries, and generously sharing their ideas.  Here are just a few!