Trust

TRUST.

That is the very word Holy Spirit spoke to me last night in church--the word God highlighted as my area of needed breakthrough from the message shared by Pastor Robert.

I believed he was going to speak finances, and then maybe even marriage or restoration of broken relationships on the side, but he spoke trust. Honestly, I was a bit surprised when the word popped up before I could even finish the question, and I just as quickly asked God "why that word?"

You see, anyone who has walked this past year with us knows that it's been a season of both financial struggle and also of unexpected provision, of pressing into God to hear his plan and obeying even when it sounded contrary to popular opinion. We've been united on this path to something new almost every step of the way, and I only use 'almost' because a year of wandering requires a lot of steps to be taken, and along the way we've both tripped and fallen--stumbled over faith and reason. We've sat down on the side of the road to question if we'd heard clearly and sometimes we cried out when silence was all we could hear. There have been days when his faith was strong and mine was lacking and vice versa, and days when we both borrowed faith from others. Days when what or how or even why was used for more prevalently than promise, trust or believe.

Here we sit on the precipice of our future. Tomorrow marks the first day of our something new that I wrote about here. And yet the promise "to prosper you and not to harm you; plans to give you hope and a future" (Jer 29:11) is still just that ... our future. Tomorrow's work will not pay yesterday's responsibilities or the ones that come today or the ones that are already on the horizon before our future meets up with our present. And it's daunting, to say the least. A bit scary, to be totally honest. Our future holds such promise, but today's needs overshadow our future promise like a monstrous obstacle. And when sat side-by-side next to someone else's need, ours may seem like a drop in a bucket, but they're still ours ... and they must be met before our something new can fully provide for our future.

And so we sat in church yesterday. And when I asked God at the end of the message what area he wanted me most to focus on for immediate breakthrough, I fully expected to hear him say "finances". It is, after all, the most glaringly obvious choice. But he surprised me, as he so often does, and spoke trust. And so I asked him why. And he answered:

I spoke trust because if I have breakthrough with you in this area then you will fully trust me for all of the other areas (both known and unknown) where breakthrough is also needed ... and they will be taken care of.

Hand in hand we walked to the altar for prayer and were met by the smile of a man he knows better than I, but one I trust because he did first. And he prayed for us; and thanked God for our something new with us; and cried out for supernatural provision over our yesterday and today needs; and called out for our mailbox to be a place of miracles; and for God to be given glory for the testimony he was going to write in our lives as we stand in the gap between our year-long journey that's about to end and our future that is just within arms reach.

And I'm choosing to trust. Trust that God will provide in ways that I can't even begin to ask for. Not because he considers us his charity case, but His children.

In the blog I linked to above, I opened it with this passage of scripture:

Now that the worst is over, we're pleased we can report that we've come out of this with conscience and faith intact, and can face the world--and even more importantly, face you with our heads held high. But it wasn't by any fancy footwork on our part. It was God who kept us focused on him, uncompromised. 2 Corinthians 1:12 [MSG]

When God speaks to us from His Word, it IS a promise that we are to hold onto. By choosing trust, I am choosing to also hold onto this promise when we will say "now that the worst is over...". While we cannot say that just yet, it's coming. This gap is all that stands between us and our future.

Last night, before we stood to go up for prayer, a woman sitting next to me handed me four notecards with handwritten Bible verses on them. She told me that one of them was for me but she didn't know which one. I didn't look at them until we were walking out of the sanctuary. The one that (I knew when I read it) was for me was the last card, and the tears rolled down as I read His reminder to me:

But God's not finished. He's waiting around to be gracious to you. He's gathering strength to show mercy to you. God takes time to do everything right--everything. Those who wait around for Him are the lucky ones. Isaiah 30:18

The wait between here and our future seems long and heavy. But God was very purposeful last night to remind me that He's in that wait. That grace and mercy are in that wait. And my heart melted right there in those words because he didn't condemn me for needing to be reminded, he simply loved me in the reminding.

Will you stand with us in prayer for this miracle? Will you believe with us that God will provide in the gap? And that the enemy will be defeated by the blood of the Lamb and the word our future testimony (Rev 12:11)?

I don't know how God's going to do it. But today I'm standing firm, like I did when he spoke to me about our future, and I'm both asking for and trusting in a miracle.

Trust in the Lord will all your heart; lean not on your own understanding. (Prov 3:5)

On Guns and Bullets

The words shot out at the screen. BAM! BAM! BAM! They weren't focused on the quality of the script or the cinematography efforts of the film being watched, but instead aimed at one of the characters within the story. Like bullets being shot out of a gun pointed directly at the female lead, each sentence was pulling the trigger at her assumed affiliation with a world view that didn't match the gun holder's. And the gun holder was letting her (and us) know it.

what? why?

I love a good story, whether I get the opportunity to read it in a book or see it on the big screen or rent it from Redbox ... I love a good story. I love well written characters and plot lines and intentional pacing. And I most love stories that make me think--that cause me to question where I currently stand on a life matter or even shake the foundation of the easy, American-styled life I live.

But that gun ... and those bullets? They were filled with a personal disgust for the fictional character's decisions, and they made me immediately question why?

What causes a soul to become so rankled by a fictional movie?
How can a fabricated character crawl under skin so easily?
What does she represent that provokes judgment?
Why does there seem to be an air of satisfaction at her suffering?

The human character is complex. As I walk through this season of life, I am even more aware of that fact. And I believe we are so complex, in part, because glory highlights flaws. And one can't see truth without recognizing the lie. And words are always revealing.

This is not judgment, but perspective. Those words could have come from me. Those kinds of words have come from me.

I've heard it said that the way we judge others is really just a [re]presentation of the way we judge ourselves--the way not being the particulars, but the heart attitude. When judgment towards others is harsh, does that mean we are just as harsh with ourselves, or even more so?

As I journey deeper into my relationship with Jesus, my spirit is becoming more and more sensitive to words. I find myself listening not to just what's being said, but becoming actively attentive to hear what is being revealed by what's being said. Scripture states that anything that proceeds from the mouth proceeds from the heart (Matthew 15:18). Trust me when I declare that my words have betrayed my heart too many times in the past and still do to this day ... and the cleansing of the foul muck in my heart is a huge part of my Jesus journey here on earth. I am not innocent in this area and I do not take pride in it either; I'm just choosing not to hide from it.

I want to hear others with an openness to origination and revelation. I want to hear myself the way I want to hear others--to know my words' origins and to be changed at the core by their revelation. I want to hear, not so I can judge, but grow.

Hope Allows

5:12am. Wednesday. January 30.

I woke up at 3:30am with my head and heart very actively engaged in processing life. Yesterday was a difficult day in our family as we processed news that played out completely different than what we had anticipated, even expected.

In this world of so much heartbreak and suffering, our news was not earth shattering, but it was still disappointing. Our sophomore, who has grown up with a baseball in one hand and a glove on the other, was given news that his place on this year's high school team is one of demotion, not promotion: 2nd string catcher on the 3rd of three teams. Basically, he received the last available slot for his position on the high school roster ... one step away from having been cut altogether.

Receiving his one-word text "JV2", my heart immediately dropped for him. After a series of questions and short replies between him and me, his astonishment and discouragement were evident. This was not the news he was expecting to hear as he stepped inside the coach's office yesterday morning. With an entire school day and first after school practice still ahead, those of us at home were left with more questions than answers (as I'm sure my sophomore was too).

How? What happened?

By the time I picked him up from school ten hours later, my heart was more concerned for how he was doing and feeling than figuring out the roster results. He was downcast, defeated, discouraged and angry. I know anger; it's how we process pain when we don't know what to do with it.

From the time he was two he carried a ball and glove around wherever he went. He watched complete baseball games on TV with his grandpa at age five. He could recite line-ups and player positions of his favorite team, the Angels, at six-years-old. He has lived, breathed and loved the purity of this game for all the years he can remember ... me too.

And then he's basically told that he was "kept in the program" because the new freshman coach highly recommended him; a coach that could only judge him from a few days of tryouts. His talent and skills and 18 months practicing under the watchful eyes of the Varsity coaches hadn't convinced them, but the new coach did. Talk about a blow to his dreams and his hopes and his reality.

His eyes told me all he felt without saying a word. Sliding into the front seat of our car, shoulders slumped and arms loaded with uniform colors he didn't think he'd have to wear again this year, his body language spoke even louder. My heart was breaking badly for my son and I didn't have the words that would make him feel better. Through conversation I could only help him process what neither of us really understood and pray that God would hold his heart and help him process through the pain of disappointment. Life is disappointing and none of us escape that. But gosh, it's so hard to watch one of your children live through it.

So ... this morning. My head. My heart. All those questions and residual heartache. I got up in the dark knowing I was sacrificing sleep for what was more important: I needed to hear from God--needed my soul settled and encouraged, and wanted something to give my sophomore to hold onto today; a piece of God's heart that reminded him to keep looking up, not out.

And then I read this:

"Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see." Hebrews 11:1 [NLT]

When you think about the future, are you hopeful? Or do you struggle with a sense of dread? ... A close cousin to fear, dread steals the ability to enjoy ordinary life and makes people anxious about the future. Hope is the opposite of dread, and a close relative of faith. ... Hope allows us to leave our unanswered questions in God's hands; it empowers us to live in peace, and it enables us to believe the best about the days to come. You can have hope when you trust in God's love. He has the power to provide for you and lead you through every situation. [Joyce Meyer]

I don't read that verse and think its inference is that everything we hope for in [this] life will magically come true. This is not a "God in a genie in the bottle" type of verse. Considering our treasure should be placed in the eternal things, God does not promise that all our "earthly hopes" will come true.

My sophomore is not promised a career in baseball making millions of dollars playing for a major league team simply because he "hopes" for that. His hope to be a Sooner and play for OU is not written in stone in the Heavenlies (that we're aware of yet anyway). His hope of catching for his high school varsity team is even on shaky ground from where he sits today. But that doesn't mean he's been instructed to stop hoping; instead, he is to be secured by his faith in a God who holds his unanswered questions (for now) and encourages him to press on and in while depositing peace and power to pursue the days, weeks and months ahead trusting in God's plan that is still unfolding.

Hope is a precarious thing. It can feel like we're walking a tight-rope at times without a visible net below us. And disappointment is like a tremor to our foundation of faith. It shakes us, but doesn't have to shift us.

Hope allows us [the choice] to leave our unanswered questions in God's hands. The choice is ours ... always ours.

Standing Firm: Job Speak

Now that the worst is over, we're pleased we can report that we've come out of this with conscience and faith intact, and can face the world--and even more importantly, face you with our heads held high. But it wasn't by any fancy footwork on our part. It was God who kept us focused on him, uncompromised. 2 Corinthians 1:12 [MSG]

As I opened up today's entry on YouVersion and read these first few sentences, I felt this strong, immediate impression that I was reading it as if these words are the newest addition to Anthony's and my testimony regarding our walk through the [un]employment journey of 2012. It was so clear to me that I found myself questioning whether or not it was my soulish desire to read it like this (through the filter of believing this job opportunity is God's plan), or if it was God. But just as quickly as that thought arrived, I was reminded of this question I read somewhere:

Why is it that we constantly question the validity (or source: me or God) when Holy Spirit speaks to us, but we so readily absorb the accusations and lies of the enemy without question?

I didn't consciously try to read this through the filter of wanting (worldly) confirmation of this plan (an official job offer). It's 6:30am--early for this brain of mine--and I've been up since 5:30am, mulling over this passage of scripture for almost an hour now. When I opened my laptop I hadn't been awake but 10 minutes and my conscience thoughts were no where near related to Anthony's job. I simply popped open the day's entry and began reading. The impression was immediate and concrete: these are your words and this is My promise and confirmation.

It is my choice whether or not to allow my flesh and my enemy to convince me otherwise, but God delights in my faith and trust, and it's in Him--not myself or my accuser--that I choose to place both.

I am risking what I declare I've "heard" from God (and my soul has a way of reminding me of this every time I talk about this job opportunity) by consistently standing on the belief that this is what God has been working out for Anthony, for us, since October 2012. I've "felt it" since the first conversation Anthony had with [him]--a conversation that quickly turned into a job interview (unbeknownst to Anthony until the end of it 1.5 hours later). There was this peace, this knowing of sorts, that wrapped that evening's re-telling of Anthony's conversation with him.

Did I think back then that it would take this long for it to come to pass? Heck NO! I was thinking ... "YES! Here it finally is!" Yet here we sit, in January 2013 (almost into February) and we're still waiting for a final word ... here on earth, at least. I believe it's already been spoken in the Heavenlies.

What's interesting to me is if you read this particular passage in any other translation it doesn't read like this at all. Maybe some would say "Aha! There's the contradiction." But that doesn't take away from what or how God chose to speak to me. On the contrary, I believe The Message translation was exactly what I was supposed to read first so that He could speak this point specifically to me--not coincidence ... not contradiction ... but purpose.

As I read the above words, my spirit was buzzing a bit, asking God if today is the day we'll know. I do not know that answer; it wasn't really addressed. But I do so love when my spirit starts to flit about like a June bug, all kinds of erratic in motion. Watch a June beetle in flight; there is nothing predictable about its pattern or course because it sees differently than I do. Hmmm... catch the nuance?

So this morning I do not shrink back from the words that I've been holding onto for months now: this job opportunity IS for us; it is what God has been working out; it is the breakthrough to something new for us--not because it comes with a paycheck but also because it comes with a paycheck. Provision is part of God's plan for us and cannot be removed because someone can choose to label that "fleshy hearted". There is nothing fleshy about believing in and for God's provision; it's faith to believe God for the provision of our needs (Matthew 6:26) and the abundance to bless us above and beyond anything we could ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:21)--and I choose to stand on faith.

A couple weeks ago, as I was coming out of a weeks-long battle with a severe cold and then the flu, I remember sitting on my couch asking God for a word to get me through January. We'd had zero word about this job opportunity for weeks; between the partnership of sickness and uncertainty, my soul was dry and in need. Immediately Jeremiah 29:11 came to mind. I actually scoffed a bit thinking "That's too easy. Everyone knows that verse, God." Then I was prompted to open up Facebook--yep, I go with the flow with God like that--and the very first entry in the news feed was this verse, posted by a friend. Okay, I hear ya, God!

When I told Anthony that day that I had asked God for a word about our situation, he had the same kind of reaction to the "overtness" of this verse, actually quoting it to me before I could tell him the specific verse God had given me--more in a questioning manner than anything declarative. Isn't it funny how we can so easily discredit the Word of God because a specific verse has somehow become cliche' and "overused" in our Christian culture? (That's a rabbit trail I won't go down in this blog, but that doesn't mean it's not worth taking.)

But God was purposing to settle my heart. Scripture is never cliche' to Him. He knows His plans and it was my choice to rest in that fact ... or not. And even today, when I can't point to an offer letter or employment start date, I can point to my God and His promise:

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give hope and a future." 

I'm smiling now as I come to the end of this [note] because I realize just how much I needed to walk through this exercise of declaration, of faith, of trust and of knowing.

Visiting: The Grace Perspective

"It's amazing how much more mercy I give to people who struggle with sins I understand." [Michael Cheshire, Going to Hell with Ted Haggard, Christianity Today, December 2012}

Ouch! Did I really just read that? And why did I catch myself catching my breath?

"You guys can't forgive him and let him back into your good graces. Every time you talk to me about God, you explain that he will take me as I am. You say he forgives all my failures and will restore my hope, and as long as I stay outside the church, you say God wants to forgive me. But that guy failed while he was one of you, and most of you are still vicious to him." Then he uttered words that left me reeling: "You Christians eat your own. Always have. Always will."

These were just the first of many thoughts that reached right into my gut and yanked at the fibers of what I believe about grace and stirred the pot of how conditional it is in my life.

Going to Hell with Ted Haggard [What I Learned about Grace and Redemption Through my Friendship with a Christian Pariah] is one of the most thought-provoking pieces I've read in quite a while. Not that I haven't read my share, but this man, Michael Cheshire, just dared to put us face-to-face with the ugly side of grace (catch my sarcasm here because grace was never intended to be ugly).

Truth be told, I would bet my next paycheck (if I earned one) that most people can relate to one side of this story or the other: the Christian sinner cast aside for daring to sin or, if we're throwing all caution to the wind for the sake of utter transparency, the person who has done the casting. Shoot, we've probably all sailed in both boats at one time or another. I know I have.

I think the reason this article touched such a tender spot in me is because I remember the unveiling of this "scandal", the media coverage it received and the venom it produced. Sadly, once I was over my shock of learning that a pastor, of all people, (more sarcasm) could fall from grace so harshly, I remember thinking along the lines of this thought pointed out in the article:

"Most Christians would say God can forgive him, but almost universally people agree that God will never use him again."

I shudder now when I realize that type of judgment resided in my heart just over six years ago, but I smile in thankfulness when I recognize that God has brought me a long way on the journey of learning grace in my life, although I still have a ways to go. Who am I to label someone "unusable"? In other words, "Who died and made me God?"

Now I read stories like this one and nod my head in agreement with the author's next line:

"'Why can't God still use Ted?" After all, I reasoned, Jesus restored Peter after he denied Christ."

But unless I trail off my intended path for this particular blog, I will let the "usable or unusable" topic sit for the time being. (For the record, I would stand in the "usable" line if asked to pick a side.) No, what struck me the most about these particular phrases is two-fold: 1) the grace partnership with restoration and, more importantly, 2) the basic necessity for grace itself.

I have a lot of thoughts spinning around my head, and I could easily digress here, but I've been really challenged by the whole topic of grace as I give it and live it. What's hit me is the notion that I have no problem reading this article and wholeheartedly agreeing that Ted Haggard deserves grace and restoration, not because he's earned it but precisely because he doesn't have to earn it, should not be made to earn it.

And yet...

In familiar fashion to the opening quote of this blog, I can say, "It's amazing how much more grace I give to those whose lives I view from afar, but I struggle with it when you own a piece of my heart."

Why do I hand out grace on a silver platter to the man down the street, or the person on Facebook I barely know, yet my grace has its limits and its conditions when it's tested by the same person(s) time and again? Is it still grace if it has limits, which in reality makes it conditional? If grace is unmerited then who am I to say, "Today you are worthy, tomorrow you are not. The first few times I'll cover you in grace, after that, dude you're on your own."

I mean, really ... who am I?

I either believe in the totality of grace or I don't, right? I either believe it's truly unmerited, in all circumstances for all people, or I don't, right?

But what if I don't? Why don't I?

Like I touched on in my Visiting blogs from last week (Grief and Reality), I am in a place of examining everything, and grace is that place today. I don't have the answers yet, but I am--at the least--willing to ask the questions.

Every journey starts somewhere.