sometimes a light

I stood mesmerized by the bowl of peaches beside me. They glowed. The late morning sun pouring from our large dining room window infused every crinkle of skin, blush of color, and gentle curve of these orbs. I held my breath for the passing beauty of it.

Then I thought of how I came to be standing at my dining room table late on this weekday morning. How work-from-home wasn’t even in my vocabulary until the last couple months. How I never knew so much life happened right outside this window every day. And then I knew that I had to share this with you.  

To catch you up before I start blogging again.

To add your hallelujah to my chorus.

It got pretty dark for a while there. For months this year and last I was courted long-distance for a fantastic position that would have made all my education, loves, and experience make sense.  And, I’ll admit it was the making sense (to myself and others) part that I was happiest about. No more having to explain why I’m single, living in this city, working plain office jobs with two degrees, jumping houses and workplaces every so often…finally I’d have a settled career. Stability. Everyone was breathing a sigh of relief.

It didn’t work out.

When I turned back to my life here everything was out of sorts. It’s like I had changed shape and couldn’t fit back in. Relationships had been severed over those months. What had seemed like the perfect and acceptable and reasonable office job was suddenly none of the above for me. So much of my current life was not enough anymore. And the guilt I felt over that discovery struck deep. The disappointment of the 'no' from far away coupled with the weight of severed relationships was crushing. The longing for my life just to be right again flung me into a tailspin. Months. Depression. Confusion. Frustration. Faith became a feeble, half-closed stare. A single thread.

Then the Lord stood up.  And the job offer came quickly out of nowhere. In a matter of weeks He gave me a new position writing a Bible program being used by hundreds of students already this school year. Every week I stand at my table creating content that is flung far and wide to classrooms and hearts I could never reach on my own. Then He gave me a local teaching position where I get to guide 80+ students deep into the world of writing every week. I was stunned. It was like living in a dream. So now I’m a writer teaching writing (insert grin). I get to make full proof of both my degrees while flexing my love of Bible, words, and teaching. AND l'm learning a ton about all those things every week. 

I could not have constructed a more beautiful turn in my path. And there could be many more turns ahead, but I was made for this. This point in time. This work...however long it stretches. What I love to do for Jesus is no longer relegated to the margins of my life. It is my life. God did that. He shook me loose, tenderly taking months to work me free from a tightly cinched idea of what I thought my life could and should be.  

Sometimes a light surprises. All the sudden we see the beauty of the crinkles and curves and blushes of color.

The light is our God rising to meet us.

Do not doubt it.

Beth

Sometimes a light surprises the Christian while he sings;
it is the Lord who rises with healing in His wings;
when comforts are declining, He grants the soul again
a season of clear shining, to cheer it after rain. 
~Cowper

8 helps when you hear "I'm discouraged"

Discouragement grows in many soils. It has a varied root system and flutters above ground with a varied foliage. Yet it is common to man. I’m not able to cover all the roots and soils in this post, but my adult life has been pocked with seasons of discouragement in which I’ve been tremendously helped by believers around me. Maybe there’s something for all of us to learn here?

(preliminary point) Don’t dismiss the confession

You’re not discouraged, honey! Everyone knows you’re always happy.

If you really were struggling you would…and let me tell you about someone who was truly discouraged…

Hahahahaha…You’re fine, you’re fine.

Smile-blink-smile-blink-smile-smile-blink.

I’ve reacted some of these ways when I've heard of others' discouragement, and I’ve experienced them all. But it’s not in the realm of acceptable to dismiss a fellow believer’s struggles. We are called to build each other up (Eph. 4:16). To be tender and compassionate. (Eph. 4:32) To be looking diligently after each other (Heb 12: 15). Encouraging one another in an ever-increasing way (Heb 10:25). Being dismissive does not match the rest of those terms.

1.  Avoid pinning the tail on sin

When my sister and I lived together, we were always coming up with new word games and phrases (thanks, Mom.) One of our classics was “insta-judge.” We could toss it out whenever we heard (or spoke) critical remarks that were obnoxiously definitive and uninformed. It turned into a humorous way to give ourselves a reality check. But...

There is a Holy Spirit and we are not him. So beware of insta-judging the root of someone’s struggle with comments like what unconfessed sin are you hiding? What weakness? What relationship failure? What bad have you done that you are so castdown? The Psalmist David is a good example of how sin can be at the root of discouragement. But he also illustrates that a righteous man behaving righteously can sail straight into that storm as well. Beware the sin label.

2.  Never play whack-a-verse

It takes courage to speak up about discouragement in our conservative Christian culture. Courage when we are at our weakest. When someone does speak up, beware the temptation to hoist the first verse that comes to mind and slam it down without context or compassion. We’ve all experienced that, right? Right.

3.  Beware of glistening generalities

You’ll get over it

It happens to everyone

Just part of life sometimes

Prayin’ for ya (slap on the back)

Phrases like these have a hollow ring and a hollow affect. They may be quick and tidy, but they all fail to convey hope. Leave the hollow, shiny phrases to this world. We have the comfort of the scriptures that work a deep and healing hope. (Rom. 15:4)

4.  Run from the temptation to compensate.

We can’t swing someone out of discouragement by being extra-super happy around them. I had someone burst into a medley of children’s songs about joy when I was sad once. This was not helpful. This strained the very bulwarks of my sanctification.

As believers, we have the privilege of going deeper than the smile (or lack thereof) on the face. This may mean I sit clinging to someone in my living room weeping with them so hard I can’t see. (Rom. 12:15) This may mean I lift up and strengthen with truth and hope when I’d much rather just walk away because my own day’s been too hard already. (Heb. 12:12) This may mean I labor for their godliness as a mother labors in childbirth until Christ is formed in them (Gal. 4:19) And all of these responses will be more effective than a happy pounce.

5. Do ask hard questions and settle in to listen

Tell me what’s going on and how it all started? How is this discouragement affecting your everyday life? Your walk with God? What is helping you most right now? What passage of Scripture or truth about God are you clinging to? Who have you been reaching out to? What can I do that would be the greatest help to you? How can I hold you accountable during this season?

Not only are these questions going to gather important information, by simply asking and listening you will convey a beautiful love that is looking beyond its own things and caring for the things of others. (Phil. 2:3-4)

6.  Shed a personal light on the situation

Beth, we’ve been through that countless times in our ministry and it hurt every time. It sent us spinning and left us disappointed. Wow. I still remember what that was like. You ask God, what was that? But we just kept trusting and doing what He’s given us to do, and He settled our hearts again. We can’t turn away because things don’t make sense.

Honest? It was the personal testimony of this woman that opened my heart to receive truth from her not long ago. Coming along side someone or even from behind them in order to help them forward will take humility and honesty. It will take a sharing our own weaknesses and what has helped us. And that? Will be God’s plan. (2 Cor. 1:4-5)

7.  Address discouragement through Biblical example

Hey want to study how David dealt discouragement in the Psalms with me? Please someone do this next time you see someone cast down. The Bible is full of divinely placed examples for our learning and hope. Let’s use them.

8.  Commit to the long haul

Or just find someone who can because there is no quick fix. No spiritual pill you can hand someone and walk away. We can help deal with the root. We can offer hope. We can pray. We can encourage someone to trust God and walk in obedience even in their discouragement, but sometimes it takes a while for emotions to swing back into place. So let’s not throw in the towel after a 5 minute convo. Christ endured. We endure. We can help each other endure.

Beth

the broken home of love and hope

Because we’re all broken, right? And those of us who don’t look it are just really good at the hiding of it. We’re all fallen. Imperfect. Failures at something. We’ve all gone astray. Not one of us is righteous. And at some point we notice that we can try but we cannot. 

That’s gospel truth.

So we pull away from each other because broken things snag and rip open other things. We pull away from God because what sort of deity could be pleased with something incapable of getting it right? And must we really hobble through life with all our ugly showing. And what could possibly soften and cover these jagged edges.

 That’s when we remember God’s love.  

Because God does not switch on the light of His love when we look good and perform well, and cut it off when we don’t. And maybe we need to read that sentence again.

Nothing separates us from the love that is in Christ Jesus our Lord. Our position of loving acceptance in the beloved is not based on ourselves. We may grieve Him and break our fellowship with Him, but we cannot break His love for us. Nothing plucks us from that. No force of evil. No catastrophic event. Death cannot do it. Life falls short of it. The future, and swords, and angels may try. And we may feel as if we’ve surely severed it this time. But the steadfast loving kindness of God endures forever. 

That’s gospel truth.

And we must remember our hope.

The Word became flesh, leaving the perfection of Heaven to set up His tent in this broken world. And He would still tabernacle in your broken. He would dwell in you richly. All His glorious perfect would abide in you and spring forth with much fruit. Hope for patience. Hope for comfort. Hope for strength. Hope in death. Hope in sin. Hope to get it right.

You see, our cracks and hollows are needed because if we’re all closed up glossy perfect, how can our hope be seen? It is not our perfections that will woo this world and our weary to faith in Him. It is seeing through our broken humanity and asking the reason for the hope who has so beautifully set up His home in us. Christ in us, the hope of glory. 

That’s gospel truth.

...................................

So when those life moments come. 

When the blinders fall away and we see how crippled we really are. 

We remember what is in this broken and we rejoice.

Love and Hope dwell here.

Beth

something immovable

It was the last day of our family reunion on the coast when I realized it.

The beach is one swirl of constant motion. 

In the early morning light, I saw it so clearly. Shells tumbled up and skidded back in harmony with the tide. The sand continually whisked from under my feet. The crashing forward then sucking back of the waves. The wind shifting the clouds and mist of an endless sky. The morning sun hidden then at once bright shining. Even the pelicans, sandpipers, and seagulls were in perpetual motion skimming waves or strutting down the sand. 

'Uh, Beth, it took you seven days to realize 
things move on the beach?...'  

Let me explain myself. 

You see this revelation, although obvious, was the opposite of a memory that had captured my thoughts all week. One of a previous reunion on this stretch of beach. One of my Dad.

My Dad, and a certain stringy-blond, waif of a little girl who would not be content in the shallow water. And I've not forgotten what it felt like to wrap my bony arms around his neck and cling tight to his back as we made our way to where the waves flung their bubbly spume and rolled their mighty rolls in what seemed a magical deep. Nor have I forgotten what I felt as those waves towered high above our heads and, at times, swallowed us whole in their powerful curls. 

I felt bold. 

And fearless. 

Let the waves crash against my tiny frame. let them turban my long-stranded hair about my face and fill my mouth with the taste of salt. I was attached to something immovable. And when my strength gave way, something greater than I anchored me tight: My Dad's thick, strong arm was about my waist. I could face the waves with a sheer joy that rivaled that of the cawing gulls dipping in the sky above me. 

This scene played out many times at our reunion last week. Tiny nieces and nephews all timidity at the ocean's edge. But against the broad shoulders of my brothers, they became reckless bold and laughing as the waves rushed about them. They knew what I had so many years ago. Though their lilting voices and waving hands could not explain it, they were attached to something immovable. And that changed everything.

Life is one swirl of constant motion. 

From every direction it crashes against us all unpredictable and daunting. At times we feel it rip the very ground from underneath us. And the future clear and bright shining all at once turns taciturn. We tumble. We are pulled and pushed.

But we are attached to something immovable. A Rock. A Strong Tower. A Fortress. And though our flesh and heart fails, we find about us an arm strong in salvation that will not let us go. So let this world surge around us, let it tumble and plunge us. We face it bold. Fearless. With a certain abandonment of joy. For nothing can pluck us from our Saviour's grip. He told us so. And we've known it true. 

But it's not just that we're anchored fast to this Rock. Hidden in every wave-curl is a sovereign design. As this life towers then crashes into my thousand-edged points, those jagged corners of me, they transform. They soften, and purify, and tumble us smooth and shining. Making us more reflective of the Christ who holds us tight in His strong arm.

And that's when those around us notice. Scouring this broad earth for a shell-shard of meaning...Look, they say, this one's different. It's all smoothness. All gentleness, kindness, meekness...all joy and confident faith...how can that be on a beach of manic, roaring motion? Then we need only point them to our Saviour.

And what was a faint reflection in us, they see full on for themselves in the face of Christ. Our Rock.

Beth

dear single: let yourself adult

Dear single, you don’t have to sleep on a twin bed. You don’t have to share a room. Or a house. Or a car. You may choose to. You may enjoy doing so. Or be happy to for a time. But you do not have to. You are an adult. It’s ok.

 Know what you love doing for God? Know how He uses you? Single, run toward it. That may look like a very small step for man as well as a small step for mankind. But single? Keep stepping toward your calling. You are an adult. Now is the time. 

Learn to say no. There can be pushback when singles decline ministry opportunities in the church. One reason may be that sometimes we are not viewed as adults in the church context (with the right or need to say no) until we are married. And perhaps we have encouraged that perspective? But don’t assume single=should be in ________ministry or should not be in_________ministry or should be in all the ministries. Our spiritual gifts may not fit people’s perception of what a single should do. Because (truth-bomb) we are simply adults who are not married. Our gifts and strengths and loves reflect the infinite creativity of a perfect Creator. And while we should be willing to serve where we are needed, sometimes we must say no. 

Steward the skills God has placed in your hand. Writing does not bring home the bacon in my life now, but to set aside this gift would make me an unfaithful steward. “But God, I was unmarried” will not fly someday. What’s in your hand, single? What passion? Skill? Training? Be faithful with it.

Don’t be content fulfilling the responsibilities you had 5,10,15 years ago. That’s weird. Growing older should mean a growth in wisdom which should mean a growth in responsibility. Don’t fear taking on more responsibility. Buy the car. Plant the garden. Purchase the home. Commit to the ministry. Take the position. Let yourself be tied down. (Get married?) Start the company. It’s what adults do. 

If we are still content to fill in the blanks of our junior-high, cartoon devotional booklet, something is wrong. Singleness does not give us a pass on pursuing Christ. Do what it takes to grow spiritually. Carve out the time, pursue the resources, be in church and plugged in there. Run your life up against godly people. Don’t put your spiritual life in the back seat. You can’t afford to; you’re an adult. 

Work long and hard enough to support yourself whether you choose to live independently or not. It’s what adults do.

Take care of your body. It’s not somehow worldly or less than to do what it takes to stay healthy. It is wise and appropriate. Even as a single it is not selfish to rest. To have an evening at home. To work out. To let yourself recover after a season of intense giving. To decline the longer hours at work. To go to bed early on Saturday so you can pour yourself out with joy on Sunday. At this point in life we should know our physical boundaries and be content with them. This world does not need another believer whose health is wrecked, nerves are shot, and spirit is destroyed because of overwork. That is not a sparkling, jeweled trophy of super-spirituality--another saint broken for the cause. That is unwise stewardship of the temple of God. Single, stay healthy. 

-------------------------------

Dear single, 

God has allowed us to grow into adults. It is His plan that we should live like one with all the good and hard and beauty and work inherent in that. We were children. Now we are no more children, but load-bearing citizens of His kingdom and coheirs with Christ. 

Let’s live it. 

Beth

it's not about you and why that's a very good thing

Psalm 46 is a classic. Even as I write this, my mind is filled with a well-known musical setting of these verses. This Psalm is used for everything under the sun, and you could probably quote most of it. It begins “God is our refuge and strength…” Got it?

 But God only speaks once in this psalm.  One small verse out of eleven. It’s as if He reaches the point where He must interject saying let me apply this for you. Or as a former college professor used to tell us, let me put the cookies on the bottom shelf. And what God chooses to say in the next three lines is as radical as it is wonderful.

Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the heathen, I will be exalted in the earth.”

He is saying, stop. Stop and consider that what you see my sovereign hand doing in this world and for my people is for my glory. I am God. I protect and strengthen, and preserve and tear down, and build up, and allow…for my name’s sake.

I will be exalted.

It’s not about you.

You see the Psalm is true. We may well find our refuge and strength in God. He will rise up and go to war for us and break our enemies. He will live in our midst. He will make the noise of strife cease. But He does this so that the heathen and the whole of His creation pause to look and see Him high and lifted up either by our strong testimony in life or because there will be no other option at the end of this life.

And maybe God is there in our hurt and hard not so we can wring from Him every last drop of what we need. Maybe He’s there so we can take a good look at a hand that is not shortened and an ear that is not heavy. And what if our response to the rough and tumble of this world is not one of desperate clawing for relief from Him, but one filled with trust and wonder and praise for Him?

The psalmist is telling us that it’s not so much the fact that He is our refuge, as it is the fact that the Lord of hosts and God of Jacob is our refuge. He is mentioned 15+times in this short psalm. He saturates it. He is the song.

It’s not about you.

So stop being afraid. Stop the worry. Stop being faint. Stop falling. Stop panicking. Stop manipulating. Be still, and consider the God who is at work in and around you.

God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in the time of trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though earth be removed, and though mountains be carried into the midst of the sea, though waters thereof roar and be troubled, though the mountains shake with the swelling thereof…

The Lord of hosts is with us.

The God of Jacob is our refuge…

Be still, and know that I am God. I will be exalted…