Screaming Lies & Whispers of Truth

10 Steps for Applying Truth to an Onslaught of Lies (Part 1)

"Be tenderhearted, and keep a humble attitude. Don’t repay evil for evil. Don’t retaliate with insults when people insult you. Instead, pay them back with a blessing. That is what God has called you to do, and he will bless you for it.” (1 Peter 3:8,9)

Every day, your soul and mine are bombarded with lies. Lies about how to fulfill our deepest longings, lies about what dictates our worth – and whether it’s stable, or comes and goes like the ocean tide. Lies about the purpose of relationships. Lies about who God is, and who we are.

Sometimes we can spot ‘em a mile away. Like dark clouds looming up the road. And so we do a u-turn and high speed the other way – or at least brace ourselves for the storm to come. And other times, they arrive unexpectedly on the doorstep of our hearts. Explosive devices camouflaged in seemingly-innocent brown paper packages.

So I want to share with you 10 things I have found helpful in processing my response to the influx of lies this world doles out. Is this a formula? Nope. As with anything in life, the only “formula” is to align ourselves with the Truth of God’s Word, depend on Jesus to live out that Truth, and follow the Holy Spirit’s leading from moment to moment.

To offer you a little more time to digest these principles, I’m just going to share 1-5 today. So be sure to come back for 6-10!

1. Start with the Cross.
“I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can’t.” (Rom. 7:18, NLT)

In every circumstance we find ourselves, we must always start with the Cross. In other words, we need to completely surrender our will and our self effort to the full lordship of Jesus. With nothing held back. Because without Him, we are unable to live within a context of Truth, and respond to life appropriately.
Without Him, we are powerless.

God has been reminding me lately that the purpose of the Gospel is not only to save me from eternal destruction, but also to save me from the daily destruction of self. Because when I don’t start with the Cross, my pride strangles out humility, and I end up putting myself on the throne of my life, instead of God. And that causes further damage to my soul, and my relationship with Him.
Not my will, but Thine be done.

"I've been crucified with Christ, it is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives within me." (Galations 2:20)

2. Recognize a lie for what it is.
Sometimes lies are obvious, and we know to just schlep ‘em off. But sometimes they’re wrapped in pretty packaging with our favorite color. Full and complete with a bow. And so we’re enticed, and don’t even recognize them as lies. After all, how could something so good, so beautiful be an agent of destruction? . . . (Alas, the questions that began in the Garden still continue today, don’t they?)

Whether you spot a lie right away, or realize it after thinking on it for a while, don’t be afraid to recognize it as sin, a grave offense against the holiness of God. Just remember, my friend: It’s a violation of God’s perfect law – not yours.

“Do not judge, and you will not be judged.
Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned.
Forgive, and you will be forgiven.” (Luke 6:37)

Again, it’s imperative that we start with the Cross because on our own, we {subconsciously} believe that WE are the offended Judge. And when we do that, the warm glow of gospel grace sadly becomes cold in our hearts, and leaves our souls frozen in bitterness.

On our own, our vision is distorted by the log in our own eye.
On our own, we can easily mistake personal conviction for biblical Truth.
On our own, our pride subtly buys into self-centered thinking under the guise of passionately pursuing righteousness and Truth. And love is derailed. Oftentimes unknowingly.

Been there. Done that.

3. Don’t listen to the lies. Listen to Truth.
“We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Cor. 10:5)

We often think about our obedience to Christ in terms of our actions, but did you catch what this verse says? Our thoughts need to obey Christ! Have you ever thought about it that way?

To do that, we need to bring them to Him. The good, the bad, and the ugly. And allow them to be under His control, not ours. We need His strength to think hard on Truth amidst the battles of our souls.

But oftentimes, we willingly receive lies and put them on like a comfortable old pair of shoes. I know I do. But you don’t have to put them on, friends. Clothe your soul with Truth instead.

“Be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is — his good, pleasing and perfect will.”
(Romans 12:2)

4. Bring Him your pain.
Our souls were created for Truth, not lies. For freedom, not bondage. For life, not death. And so our fragile souls grow weary of the oppression of the constant borage of lies. To that, He beckons us to come:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matt. 11:28)

5. Receive His comfort, His words of life.
“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet was without sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” (Hebrews 4:15,16)

Jesus is no stranger to the Enemy’s attacks, friends. In fact, He is acquainted with them far MORE than you or I will ever be. He understands the intensity that develops in the human heart when a lie is spoken. For He is the One against whom all lies are ultimately directed. He knows, friends. And He is near.
Always.
Whether your feelings agree or not.

“The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” (Ps. 34:18)

Recently, as I was trying to hear the whispers of Truth amidst a steady flow of criticism, a friend of mine offered me these life-giving words . . .

In Christ, you are loved. You are accepted.
You are loved and accepted right where you’re at,
right where you eat,
right where you think,
right where you live,
right where you sleep,
right where you laugh,
right where you cry,
right where you are afraid,
right where you trust,
right where you fail,
right where you see His success through you,
right wherever you are
and wherever you aren’t
and whatever you are or aren’t doing.
You are just LOVED.
And accepted!

“There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1)

So when you’ve lost the strength to even hang onto Truth, it’s okay, friend. Because in Christ, Truth is hangin’ onto you! Whether we are faithful or not, He IS.

What lies are you buying into today, friend? Lies from the world? Lies from your own mind? Maybe even lies from a friend. Bring them to the Cross, sweet soul. And leave them there.

“You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy.”
(Psalm 16:11, ESV)


Continue the journey with me by reading Steps 6-10 of Applying Truth to the Onslaught of Lies (by clicking here).

And I invite you to join the Truth in Weakness community on Facebook by clicking here. You can also sign up to have each new blog entry by Truth in Weakness delivered directly to your In Box by entering your e-mail address in the column to the right. Looking forward to continuing the journey with you!

~ ~ ~

Honored to be linking up with Joy in this Journey for Life: Unmasked Wednesdays!


(Image courtesy of Cameron Burns)

Getting Rid of the Lines

Fifteen years ago, I went on an interview for a writing position in center city Philly. After my interviewer had spent some time looking through my portfolio, she laid one of my pieces on the table in front of me, and asked if there were anything I’d change about it.

Now it’s important to note that this was many years before God reached out His hand and offered me the sacred opportunity to begin finding freedom from my perfectionist thinking, and walk through life authentically with Him. So in that season of life, I was well versed on interview tactics, such as how to answer the “What’s your greatest weakness?” question in a strategic manner that would essentially highlight a strength. Exude confidence without sounding arrogant – I knew the drill.

And when it comes to my writing, I’ve always been a perfectionist. Not just with the words, but with their context of design and presentation as well. Even since I’ve started blogging, I’ve had to try very hard – to NOT try! (Oh yes, God surely smiles when I have those conversations with Him. Frequently.) So like any other piece of mine, the piece that my interviewer laid on the table I had certainly worked through with a fine tooth comb ad infinitum.

But there was something about the way I designed this piece that seemed like a stellar idea when I started, but ended up being something I didn’t like at ALL when it was wrapped up. My use of lines.

I had created a thick line or bar under each of the subheadings. And during this early season as a writer, my appreciation for simplicity in life began to emerge in my writing. And that meant lots of white space, lots of room to breathe on a page. And for me, it also meant implementing a minimal-to-no use of lines. (I’m actually incredibly line averse now. That's right, I’m quite skilled at going from one extreme to the other, thankyouverymuch.)

So back to the actual interview. When she asked me what I would change about that piece, I broke my own rule {at the time} by revealing my humanity and gave her an immediate answer:

I’d get rid of all the lines.

It was completely out of character for me to be so transparent in an interview. But oh, what a foreshadowing of what was to come. Because you know what? It recently occurred to me that I’m making the very same change here on my blog. I’m getting rid of the lines . . .

In my early posts, like blogophobia and i am the older brother, I got my line feet wet. I had seen other bloggers strikethrough their words in order to say what they really felt, but what most people wouldn't want to admit. And the words in strikethrough always offered me a great “I can so relate to that!” laugh. They still do.

So after feeling a little more comfortable in my strikethrough skin, I found it a handy tool as I struggled to take a retrospective look back on 15 years in The Fixer-Upper Marriage. I was able to share my struggles – safely behind the lines.

And then came my strikethrough frenzy in because pride cometh before the fender bender. Apparently, there was no holding me back at that point. I mean really, just look at it – it’s practically the attack of the strikethrough font! So much wrestling through thoughts and feelings that I shared . . . well, sort of. At a safe distance, of course {behind the lines}.

And I didn’t realize it at the time, but just like the piece that my interviewer laid on the table 15 years ago, that blog entry was the one that the Lord laid on the table in front of my heart, and asked me how I’d like to make my writing better.
Because I started getting rid of the lines.

Okay, so I still pulled ‘em out a couple months later when I shared my less-than-stellar mom moment in flying shoes & dysfunctional status quos.

But for the most part, the lines are disappearing here at Truth in Weakness.
I’m not hiding behind the strikethrough, anymore.

And I don’t know about you, but just like I love lots of white space on a page, I am loving the emotional breathing space that we’re gaining as I step out from behind the lines!
Room to exchange even more freedom together.

But it's hard to get rid of the lines, isn't it? To risk being that vulnerable? Solid yellow lines get cemented into our hearts telling us that we're only safe within the lines (or behind them). So out of fear of our soul colliding with another and ending up crushed in pieces on cold asphalt, we do not cross.

But I've said it before, and I'll say it again:
The best of friendships are based on truth, not pretense, and offer a safe place to be real and vulnerable.

However, I've also reminded us that as we boldly take steps toward authenticity, we are not defined by how others respond to us in our vulnerability. Our identity must be anchored in Christ alone or else this whole transparency thing becomes one big threat.

So what lines are you still hiding behind, friend? In what areas of your life is it hard to let go of the lines? Oh, how I understand. Because I still have my own lines in life. But with my soul resting safely in the loving arms of Jesus, I’m continuing to get rid of them.
One strikethrough at a time.


Linking up with Beholding Glory for Faith-Filled Friday

How to Strangle a Great Marriage

{Ravaged by} Great Expectations: Part 1

I’ve said more than once that if I could just take all of my expectations and chuck them out the window, I’d have SIGNIFICANTLY less problems in my life. Really, they haunt me in practically every relationship. They suck the very life out of me – and those around me. Some nights they wear me out ‘til I am physically sapped to the core.
Tonight was one of those nights.

I was processing this expectation beast with the Lord, wanting to understand the source of a few of them, in particular – the ones that weigh me down with the heaviest of chains. And why I haven’t let them go yet??
Why do I continue to hold onto some of them when I know that Freedom & Joy await me on the other side? . . .

Like every other married person on the planet, I have dreams and desires for my marriage. Noble dreams! Healthy desires. And so the thought of letting go of them feels like resignation.
As if to show my husband grace by releasing him of an expectation is to throw away the value associated with the expectation, and the well-being of the relationship.
It feels like I’d have to throw away the dream.

“You are a slave to whatever controls you.”
- 2 peter 2:19, CEB

Unfortunately, when it comes to something as important as my marriage, I easily lose every ounce of patience {and perspective} and want results yesterday. So for the sake of time, I repeatedly take matters into my own hands.

Rather than talk to God {the Creator and Sustainer of marriage, by the way} about it first, I go right to my husband {in all my ungracious self-life} and “enlighten him” about the speck in his eye.
And I create relational damage every. single. time.

So when I cling more tightly to good things than to our great God, I put them on a throne that only He deserves. Bright hopes and dreams fade into dark shadows of entitlement. Life and vibrance get strangled out of the relationship.
And I miss the treasure standing right in front of me.

Truth: Trusting God doesn’t mean that we have to lose our dreams and desires.
It means we get to find the very Fulfillment of them!
In the Right Place.
{And the other reality check in all this? Just like I'm needing to entrust my ummet expectations into to the Lord's loving hands, my husband is needing to do the very. same. thing. . . }

Dear friend, do you find it hard to entrust God with your soul's desires, too?
And miss the treasures right before you?

Join the many sojourners struggling along this journey by sharing your thoughts in a comment. Then, be sure to continue with us by reading Part 2, Hope for the Critical Heart.


Image courtesy of Vincent Zegna

Unable to Pray

I walked carefully up the staircase lined with seated people. Bibles open, eyes closed, heads bowed. Each one pleading for a miracle. Yet making a painful choice of the will to surrender their deep desire for God to spare her life, to the mysteries of the One who gave her life.

In a matter of moments, the still, quiet corridor turned Doorway to Divinity, emphatic choruses flooding the Entrance.
Gutsy petitions boldly approaching the Throne of Grace.
Desperate souls running to the Mercy Seat, begging for her healing.

That afternoon, every inch of their home was an open invitation to prayer. {If I’m not mistaken, it’s the same southern home that still adorns Bible verses on the sheetrock and 2x4s in her handwriting.}

When I reached the upstairs, I began my time in her boy’s room. A sobering place to pray when you’re also a mom of a little boy right around his age. A moment when the challenges of life as a mom instantaneously became pale; invisible, really. And so my prayers joined alongside of hers to plead for the well-being of his tender heart and mind, come what may.

I then walked into their girl’s room, and sat on her dainty chair. And suddenly, I was a little girl, too. Crawling up, saddened, into my Father’s lap. All my uncertainties, all my fears, all in plain view. Feebly lifting my head to whisper a prayer into His ear, asking Him to cover this girl’s sweet soul in His strong grace.

After some time in her room, I came to the guest bedroom, my friend’s mom’s room at the time. Her mom was staying with their family to lighten the load, to walk by her daughter’s side during this cruel invasion of disease. And so I kneeled by her bed and prayed for her. For extra measures of Strength, and Grace, and Comfort. And for my friend's dad. And also her brother.

Then, I stepped into my friend and her husband’s bedroom . . .

At the time, I knew my friend’s husband was faithfully loving her through the extra mile of her disease. But it wasn’t until a couple years after this event when I watched my own husband carry the weight of the world on his shoulders during my own health crisis that I could even begin to appreciate the kind of deep, selfless love that my friend's husband had given her. And let me be clear: Our journey is of no comparison whatsoever to theirs. But it sure did open my eyes.

I sat down on the floor, leaned my back against the bed, and tried to pray.
And that’s when my wrestling began.

Given the gravity of my friend’s affliction, I was so overwhelmed I didn’t even know where to begin. I just knew that I was in deep anguish for her and her precious family. So I wanted my prayers to somehow carry a weight comparable to the massive weight of their circumstance. I desperately needed my prayers to be effective . . .

As I sat there on the floor wrestling through this with the Lord, He whispered to me.

Stop trying . . .

That wasn’t the first time He had offered those two words to me that weekend. Nor the first time I felt plagued by inadequacy. I longed to reach down to the core of my friend’s being and love on her in ways that would deeply minister to the depths of her beautiful soul. But I felt so very inadequate for the opportunity.

I heard those two words, and I stopped.
I stopped agonizing over my words.
I stopped trying to pray.

But that stopping, it only happened because of God’s mercy to me and His power. Because once I start trying hard to do something, it is incredibly difficult for me to NOT try. Usually feels near impossible.

Shortly thereafter, my Father began to lead me by the hand to pray. I don’t even remember what I prayed. But I remember that it was effortless.
Because it was all from Him, not from me.

That sacred afternoon in my friends’ home, God revealed to me that it’s not compelling words that make prayer effective and powerful. It’s the power of the Holy Spirit living and breathing through me, as I cry out to the Father with honest and desperate pleas.

God also reminded me that He is the only One who can reach into the depths of a soul and impact it in ways that human lives never can.
He is God. I am not.

Yes, He will sometimes choose to use me in the life of another. But my part is simply to make myself available. The rest is up to Him.

Just like I needed Jesus to save me from the power of my sin, so I also need Him daily to be my Power in living out this life.
Including when I pray.

“Jesus responds not to the eloquence of our prayers, but to our pain . . .
Our prayers may be awkward. Our attempts may be feeble. But since the power of prayer is in the One who hears it and not the one who says it, our prayers do make a difference."
– Max Lucado (He Still Moves Stones)

~ ~ ~

This piece was written in loving memory of my precious friend and sister in Christ, Tara. I am so grateful for the numerous ways that God worked powerfully through her life, and her testimony, to impact my life. And countless others'. It was a privilege to be called her friend.

Thank you to her closest loved ones who gave me the gift of their blessing to share how God continues to use her life, and her passing from this life to the next, to impact my own life.

If you appreciated this piece, I'd love for you to subscribe to receive my posts. All kinds of good subscription options on the right toward the top.


Image courtesy of Travis Silva

Soul Love Song

"Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Jeshanah.
He named it Ebenezer, explaining,
'The Lord helped us to this very point.'”
- 1 Samuel 7:12

Most of you know that God recently offered me a unique opportunity for this blog. Last week, I submitted Truth in Weakness in the Circle of Moms “Top 25 Moms with Inspiring Families” contest. I didn’t find out about the contest ‘til six days before it finished, but I decided {again} to make this blog available to the Lord. And then let Him decide what He wants to do with it.

In those six days, numerous friends and family members captured the vision of extending God’s message of truth and grace to a hurting world by championing along side of me with your support. I am so grateful for that, SO grateful. Whether this blog landed in the Top 25 or not, each of you who advocated reminded me {by your example} that I want to be a friend who never hesitates to cheer another friend on in life.

And I am honored to share that on Wednesday at 7pm, God said yes!
Truth in Weakness came in at #21.

Funny thing is, as it climbed closer to the Top 25, it was harder for me to surrender to the prospect of God saying yes, than it was to the prospect of Him saying no . . . Ever have that??

The following morning, God brought me to a divinely-timed blog post of praise, based on the verse above in 1 Samuel. I had never been to this blog, but clearly, God had led me there. And my soul kept singing the love song of praise below.

Thank you, my friends and fellow sojourners.
I am celebrating Him with my Ebenezer soul!
- Tanya

Come thou fount of every blessing
(by Robert Robinson)

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise.
Teach me some melodious sonnet,
Sung by flaming tongues above.
Praise the mount! I'm fixed upon it,
Mount of Thy redeeming love.

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I'll begin;
Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I've come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.

Jesus sought me when a stranger,
Wandering from the fold of God;
He, to rescue me from danger,
Interposed His precious blood;
How His kindness yet pursues me
Mortal tongue can never tell,
Clothed in flesh, till death shall loose me
I cannot proclaim it well.

O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I'm constrained to be!
Let Thy goodness, like a fetter,
Bind my wandering heart to Thee.
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it,
Prone to leave the God I love;
Here's my heart, O take and seal it,
Seal it for Thy courts above.

Breathe!

Today, I am excited to offer you my first guest post! Lily has been a pioneer of transparency to me, so I know you'll appreciate the powerful message that the Lord has for you through her. Lily also happens to be my sister. {smile}

They thought it was rather silly when the doctor recommended a sleep study for her. Downright weird. “Ridiculous, new-fangled nonsense,” they privately scorned. But when the neurologist told them she had severe sleep apnea, they were stunned.

The watershed for diagnosing sleep apnea is if you stop breathing 5 times or more in an hour - then you have it. My mom? She stopped breathing 30 times in the span of an hour. Yes, severe sleep apnea.

Amongst other problems, sleep apnea can cause heart problems. My mom’s had those for years. Could this be the reason? They questioned . . .

I remember my mom recounting her apnea test to me. At one point, they woke her and brought her oxygen. I can’t describe the rush I heard in her voice as she told me how good it felt, but it was obvious this taste of getting what she needed was powerful.

All this time, she has done without the oxygen. All those nights she’s done without . . . breathing. And to her, it was normal – her normal.

And the thought ran through my mind, isn’t that like any of us? We tend to define normal by what we’ve always known, by what is familiar to us. Somehow, even in the midst of living with difficult circumstances, we can be duped into thinking our familiar experience defines normal simply because it’s all we’ve ever known.

And then . . . in steps God. His truth sheds light on our experience and shows it for what it really is. Our eyes are opened and our breath is taken away by the vast difference between our normal and what God says is good. Our false definition shatters into pieces and in the shattering, a new hope is found -
the hope of the Lord revealed in His truth.

We all need that beautiful, objective Caregiver to step in & set us straight. To tell us that we’ve stopped breathing, acting more like a dead man than one who pants vibrantly with life.

We can do that, you know. Stop breathing.
We don’t always know we’ve done it as it can happen when we’re sleeping.

God wants us to breathe deeply of His love and of His grace. But sometimes, we spiritually fall asleep into despondency and numbness.

I do. I stop breathing at times.

I am so thankful for the Lord Who comes, wakes me up, and offers me oxygen – offers me Himself.

“Inhale. Breathe deeply,” He says,
“take in all that you can of Me.
Let your lungs fill completely; let it go all through your veins.
I am here to resuscitate you.”

And as I inhale, I can feel the newness of His life infusing my soul.

Oh Father, we all are prone to stop breathing at times. Without even knowing it, we often fall asleep and become as if lifeless, without breath. And somehow, it can start to feel like normal to us.

Come, wake us. Resuscitate us according to Your Spirit. Breathe on us that we might have breath and we might inhale and exhale the life that You give. Fill our spiritual lungs completely.

And where we have adopted a sense of false normalcy, give us Your objectivity to discern merely familiar from good. Redefine normal for us in light of Who You are, for since the fall – You are the only truly normal we can know. We are all askew.

Help us to know Your truth as our objective measure. Our experiences are so in our faces that we tend to receive Your truth through their lenses. Give us eyes to see beyond them.

And teach us to breathe, inhaling all that You are and exhaling all that honors You and Your Name. To Your Name be glory.
Amen.

Breathe!

About Lily . . . My name is Lily, and I'm on an imperfect journey of knowing and loving a perfectly wonderful God....in the now....in the midst of whatever I'm going through. My heart has found its resting place under the rescuing cross of Jesus, though I foolishly wander from its haven. But all the while He beckons and calls and remains my Redeeming Rescuer, redeeming my ordinary things for extraordinary purposes. Redeeming all of me. And in the end it is all glory for Him and grace for me.

Making Room {for Healing}

"The LORD is near to the brokenhearted.
And saves those who are crushed in spirit."
(Psalm 34:18 NASB)

I told my husband recently that I’d found a great way to make more room in our kitchen cabinets. After he kindly took the bait & asked how, I told him that I just keep breaking dishes. {Really, I don’t know what the deal is, but it has happened a bunch lately.}

But I’m actually not too bummed about it. Because both my glasses and my dishes have unfortunately lost their luster in recent years.

My glasses show the years they spent regularly immersed in water so hard it could cut through a rock. {With every run of the dishwasher, they sadly escaped looking worse than when they went in.}

And the random display of scratch marks on our plates evidence that apparently they weren’t made for cutting. {Wish that memo would have come with the product.} And several of them have cracked under the pressure of microwave heat. {That memo would have been nice, too.}

For the most part, I’ve gotten used to their ugly scars. Probably because they’ve been that way for so long. But since they’ve lost their visual appeal, make no mistake – I’ll gladly part with the stains and the scratches! {And secretly hope that as a result, someday I’ll get need to buy new ones.}

The other day, it struck me that in many ways, I am like these couriers of cuisine.

My mind a glass with cloudy misplaced hope that distorts my vision.
My heart scraped up from critical words that cut like a knife.
And my emotions? Well, they can certainly crack under pressure when the heat is too much.

Many days my soul is fragile china in a world of careless bulls that threaten to crush me.

But I believe that sometimes Jesus allows our hearts to break.
To make more room. Room for uninhibited freedom.
Room for restored beauty.
Room for renewed joy.
Room in our souls for undiminished healing.
More room for Him.

Our Father is a gentleman, though. Oftentimes, He waits until we can see our pain for what it is.
Until we're ready to abandon to renewal and redemption.
Until we’re ready to part with our pain.

He beckons us, as if to say,

Oh, My precious child,
You don’t have to bear these stains any longer.
You don’t have to feel those scratches in your soul when critical knives are near.
Release your scars, My child.
Bring them to Me.
Bring them all.
And let Me wash you in My living water of hope, healing, and life abundant.

I conveniently neglected to mention that I also have a few pieces that I’m NOT ready to part with, even though they clearly need to go. I have these oversized mugs that I absolutely love to use for pretty much anything. They are my goldilocks bowls – not too big, and not too small. Just right.

But sadly, bear mug 1 and bear mug 2 {See, they even exude the warmth of a bear hug!} now both have a broken handle. So there is now a sharp, jagged knob protruding from each of the two mugs. {Even my 1st grader pointed out that they’re major safety hazards.}

But I LIKE my oversized bear mugs! And all the alternatives before my human eyes will be either, well, you know – too big, or too small.

But patiently, He waits. Offering me something far better than the short-lived comfort of my bear mugs.Whenever I invite Him to make more room.

Have you ever thought of the aches in your soul as actually serving you well? {to make more room for God?}
Or brokenness as a means to beauty?
Maybe you hang onto pieces in life that are hazards to your heart like I do.
Know that our Father longs to pick up all of the sharp, broken pieces of your shattered soul. To put them back together in way that you never would have imagined.

Webster defines luster as “the state or quality of shining by reflecting light.”
Invite Him to restore your luster, my friend.

a sacred exchange of story & soul

"a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair." - isaiah 61:3

Just a year ago, I was barely able to get up off my couch, let alone step into my son’s Kindergarten classroom. I was in the thick of a health crisis that left me incapacitated for months on end. But the other day, I was there. In his classroom. Looking into the eyes of 20 precious 1st graders as I read a story to them. With my son as my proud, picture-showing assistant.

The story is a cute one about a siamese cat whose imagination transforms him into an invincible, sword-fighting chihuahua. And oh, how I can relate to little Skippyjon Jones, my soul wanting to be something I am not. Often. And missing the splendor of the distinctive ways that God created me in His glorious image. (But that’s another post.)

That afternoon with the children, my heart soared simply to be in their presence, gifting them with the treasure of a story. My imagination walking side-by-side with theirs as we journeyed together to a destination “two bones shy of the end of the world” to come up with a plan to save the world. (Or at least save los chimichangos from the bobble-ito in la casa perrito!)

Such a gift to look into the eyes of these precious souls, theirs looking back at mine. To connect with their hearts and minds. And to learn much about each of them simply by the individual expressions on each face as they listened.

One little girl wore an intent look that reminded me so much of me. Another one brushed her long hair. On the other side of the room, a couple of buddies snuck in a whisper.Each instance, a grand celebration of divine distinction.

And as the pages of time continued to turn, I rejoiced in this sacred privilege of entering their world for a few brief moments. And celebrating the gift that each of them are to this world.

In my last post, I shared that it’s often hard to miss the sweet embraces of our Savior.

This day, my friends, was not one of them.

Now it's your turn! What’s a moment that you beheld recently?



This post is dedicated to the wonderful community of staff and families at our son’s school. We are ever grateful for your prayers and tangible support for our family during my health crisis. And we pray that the Lord returns the blessing to each of you in abundance.

restless in the dark (& secret soul embrace)

"Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you."
- James 4:8

Before heading to bed the other night, I went into my son’s room where he was sound asleep to give him another kiss good-night. Something I often do. But this time, it was different.

As I bent down and gently placed my cheek against his, I whispered a soft “I love you.” And suddenly, his right hand began to move.
He was forming a tired, limp “I love you” sign.

My heart swelled with delight. I wasn’t expecting a response! I was simply wanting to love on him.
One more time.

The next day, I asked him if he recalled our exchange, and he didn’t.
His expression that night was simply the overflow of his heart.

And you know, just as my heart was reaching out to my son that night, so does our Heavenly Father’s heart reach out to us.
Every.
Day.
And do we know it? Sometimes.
Do we feel Him reaching out to us? Many times probably not.

But whether we know it or feel it doesn’t change the reality.
That He does.

With tender hands of compassion and mercy, our Abba Father reaches out to grace our hearts.
Because He knows that His nearness to us is our good.
Because He knows that our wounded souls desperately need the calm of His healing touch. Especially in the dark.
Because He values us.

And I wonder – what does the overflow of my heart look like when my soul receives His nurture unaware?
Do I instinctively respond with an expression of mutual adoration?
Absolutely!
At times . . .

But there are also times when my soul grows restless in the dark . . .

Times when I shrug my shoulders with indifference to astonishing grace.

Nights when I pull the covers up over my heart in shame.
Hoping He won’t see me.

Moments when I lay curled up in a ball and flinch at His healing touch.
Afraid to trust Him with my fragile soul.

I have winter nights when I toss and turn with cold, pouty lip.
Expressing He’s not enough.

Seasons when I’m too weak and weary to respond.
Because I’ve been carrying weighty loads that are meant for Him alone.

And sometimes my soul wears a scowl.
Because my selfishness dismisses the reality of His infinite goodness.

Rather than craft my fingers into a language of love,
misplaced hope forms a fist to cling to my deepest dreams.

All the while I move and breathe in the very presence
of their perfect Fulfillment.

So has your soul grown weak or weary in the dark? Does the overflow of your heart shun the very touch that longs to heal you? Or maybe you fasten your eyes closed because you’re afraid of the light.

Whatever the season of your soul, know that God’s infinite love for you remains fiercely immovable.
His love is not dependent on your response to Him.

So rest, oh weary soul.
Breathe deeply in His presence.
And know that in Christ, you are safe and secure.
Even in the darkest of nights.

“My soul finds rest in God alone.”- Psalm 62:1

burnt offerings & walking in worship

[raging battles with the seen: part 2]
read part 1 here.

“victory always begins with a cry for help.”
- beth moore (breaking free)

the other day, my sister sent me a beautiful video clip that my nephew created for one of his classes. his assignment was simply to create a short clip that answered the question, “what is worship?”
and the tears i wiped testified that the question was well answered.

right after watching that, i came upon a post that a friend shared, and was immediately drawn in by both the picture and title. the picture was the runner up to the picture that i chose for the truth in weakness facebook page. so i remain incredibly drawn to it. and the title? something about food. and intimacy . . .

fortunately not the typical must-share-my-favorite-recipe post.
nor another endless rant on which diet is better than the others.
it was about how we interact with food. rather, how we interact with Jesus each time food passes through our hands and into our bodies.

given my recent heartbreaks in my relationship with food, the fact that i came to a post about the spiritual dimension of food immediately after watching a video snippet about worship made it obvious that God clearly had something in store for me.

and in that post, i read this:
“i want it to be an act of worship to incorporate intimacy with Christ in all things — even this, the meal-making.”

i could sense that God was wanting to put two conflicting pieces together for me, but i wasn’t quite seeing the how yet. so i walked out to the kitchen with an inquisitive chant that echoed through my mind: “food and worship, food and worship . . . ”
only to discover that my breakfast potatoes had burnt to a crisp.

i turned off the stove, and God then brought these two words to mind:
burnt offering

. . . i knew the term, but what did it mean for me? i googled pondered the thought, and came to another article that said:
“the altar of burnt offerings is also known as the altar of sacrifice . . .
as the Father was willing to sacrifice His son,
as the Son was willing to sacrifice His own life,
as abraham was willing to sacrifice His son isaac as a test of faith by the Lord,
so too, should we be willing to sacrifice all that the Lord asks if we truly desire to return to His presence.”

and like a ton (or ten) of bricks, it hit me:
God was calling me to offer this painful area of my life to Him.
to surrender it on the altar of my heart.

i then read elsewhere that burnt offerings served as reminders to those offering of their depravity. and oh, my depravity have. i. seen.
i returned to my scorched potatoes, placed them on my plate, and brought them to my dining room table. to eat them.
as an act of surrender.
as an act of worship.

"so here's what I want you to do, God helping you:
take your everyday, ordinary life—
your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—
and place it before God as an offering.

THIS is true worship."
(romans 12:1, combo of the mssg & today’s niv)

i bowed my head before the almighty King of creation, and with the closing of my eyes began a healing stream of repentant tears. i was overwhelmed and humbled by the privilege simply to come into His holy presence – particularly in the very context that’s been such an ugly one for me.

my soul was remembering the holiness of the One in whose presence i sat.
it was as if, amidst the intensity of my struggle, i had forgotten it.
at least within this context.

my relationship with food has become a place of bitterness, resentment, and perceived entitlement.
but.
where was i when the foundations of the earth were laid? . . .

"surely i spoke of things i did not understand,
things too wonderful for me to know. "
(job 42:3)

i was grieved by my complaining.
and lamenting my lack of gratitude.

"let us come boldly to the throne of our gracious God.
there we will receive His mercy,
and we will find grace to help us when we need it most."
(Heb. 4:16)

i laid it all before Him in confession, and surrendered the struggle.
and i invited Him to transform this area of bitterness, resentment, and entitlement into a place of contentment, thanksgiving . . .
into a place of worship.

i want to walk in worship in this context, Lord.
i want to walk in worship . . .

not just in the easy places of life,
but in the ugly, grueling, despairing places.
when my soul aches within me, i can still worship You.
i can worship You in my sorrow.
i can worship You WITH my sorrow.

that morning, amidst my deep longing to have full freedom with food, God graciously reminded me that He wants better for me.

He wants me to have unbridled freedom for my soul.

"my flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever."

(psalm 73:26 )

so tell me, friend . . . what are the heavy chains weighing down your soul today? the chains that you've longed for God to loosen and exchange for wings of freedom flight.

cry out to Him.
know He hears you.
and receive His power to walk in worship – even in the most anguished, desperate places of your soul.