Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

How God Sees Our “Righteous Anger”

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Have you ever woken up feeling consumed by your emotions? It’s like you went to bed stewing on an issue, you drift off hoping it will finally go to bed too, but you wake up with your heart unwittingly wrapped around the same thoughts. It leaves you feeling like you didn’t sleep at all, like you must have wrestled with it all through the night, and through grainy eyes you can do one of two things.

One, you can continue to dwell on it. You can replay conversations in your mind. You can even make up new conversations based on what you wished you would have said! Or maybe that’s just me.

You can justify your feelings to yourself, making a mental tally of why you are right, and why other people are wrong. You can even convince yourself that you deserve to feel this offense. It is an honorable emotion, you decide. But the strange thing? You still won’t feel any better. Your thoughts will continue to run circles in your mind like a dog chasing its own tail.

There is another option, though. You can lay down offense. You can ask God to show you why you’re feeling the way you are. You can ask for a kingdom mindset, complete with eyes that see the situation through an eternal filter.

I recently found myself feeling offense. Red, hot anger, that I felt was justified, righteous, even. But what I couldn’t understand was, if it was righteous and justified by God, then why did I feel so bad? I’ve discovered that if I’m not feeling the peace of God, I need to ask Him why. I need to seek His purpose, His truth, and what He can teach me in the midst of all my mental mess. When I sought the Lord on offense, this is what I felt Him speak.

Do you know why this angers you? It’s not for me. It’s for you. You are offended. You are hurt. And you take that offense right into your heart and ball it up there, leaving little room for anything else. You feel justified in your feelings, but in reality it’s just unforgiveness festering there. And it pulls you away from me.

The word of the Lord reminded me of things I knew, but things that were easy to forget. In the Garden of Gethsemane even Jesus cried out for the cup to be taken. He knew God’s will, God’s plan, and God’s heart, but the part of Jesus that was human man, it had trouble letting go, even if just for a moment. He had to remind Himself, “yet not my will, but yours be done.”

I needed reminding of not my will, but His. I needed reminding of how to be angry, and this is something we all struggle with. The object of my anger was all off. I forgot it’s not flesh and blood we fight in this world, but principalities and powers of darkness. I was taking personal offense, when it reality it had nothing to do with me. I was placing far too much importance on temporal matters of this world, forgetting the comfort that lies in the eternal solution. I was acting like the remedy rested on my shoulders, rather than crying out to Jesus to resolve it. I was holding a personal grudge, even if unintentionally, rather than seeking personal intercession. I forgot to forgive, even if the offense had become overinflated in my human mind. I had forgotten to pray for the people who hurt me, and that was a straight command from Jesus.

As I began to pray for the objects of my anger I felt an immediate peace settle over me. As I let go of my hurt, that wasn’t really warranted (from a kingdom perspective, anyway), I felt the joy begin to return. The thoughts that had plagued me finally loosened their talons in my brain, and I felt the sweet release of surrender to God. I felt at ease when I gave the battle back to the only One who could fight right anyway. I remembered that righteousness comes from Him, as all things do, and I returned the matter to His capable hands, to deal with it as He saw fit. Who was I to take offense?

The # 1 Thing We’re Missing in America

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I guess you noticed I haven’t been sharing as much lately on the blog. Honestly, I’ve been overwhelmed. Not just overwhelmed with my work as a bedside, critical care nurse on the frontline of COVID-19, but also with my emotions. I have had all the feelings over the past couple of months, and many of them are ones I don’t enjoy having. It’s been kinda heavy, and I’ve spent much of my time not saying anything rather than saying something I regret. Too bad more people don’t practice that restraint.

I’ve felt sadness for the many, sick patients I’ve seen battling this pandemic, and my heart has broken for their families. I realize that I have firsthand experience with a disease process that many others do not. It’s unknown and scary, and perhaps that’s why it’s easier for so many people to have the luxury to be flippant or apathetic about the virus. After all, it is more comfortable to claim it all a hoax or government-inflated theatrics, than to admit the frailty of human life.

I’ve oscillated between frustration and red, hot anger, melancholy and disappointment at the selfishness of my fellow man. I have seen some of the most ignorant comments, and I’ve witnessed some pretty heinous statements on social media. Why does the ability to type an opinion trump the decency of treatment of others, or why do we put on blinders to the plight of another, in favor of our own inconvenience? In other words, why are we such a selfish lot?

Do you know what we’re missing in this unprecedented pandemic? Compassion.

We’ve replaced it with selfish ambition. We’ve allowed our perspective to become quite narrow, seeing no further than our own front door.

We see how uncomfortable wearing a mask can be, how difficult it is to breathe. We become angry at someone mandating we wear something to protect ourselves or others. It’s all about “my comfort and my right to refuse.” I suppose we’re refusing the right to protect the elderly and immune compromised from the virus we could be carrying. The fact that it makes you hot should definitely precede expert opinion that it prevents the spread of germs.

Why do healthcare professionals wear them, based on hundreds of years of tested research, if they don’t really work? Perhaps we should tell doctors, nurses, and anesthesiologists it’s not necessary to wear them anymore in the operating room. While we’re at it, let’s get rid of all those pesky seatbelt and car seat laws. My body, my right to fly through the windshield!

Our perspectives have become so skewed, whereas we only see how a situation affects us personally. We forget that things could be worse, and even that they definitely are for other people.

We see that we can’t work for weeks at a time. We never consider the families who have lost their primary breadwinner forever, to death by COVID.

And I know that financial stress and income loss is serious! But fifty days in the Intensive Care Unit, waking up to a hole in your neck, and muscles so wasted you cannot move, well, that’s pretty darn serious too. We don’t think about that, though. It hasn’t happened to anyone we know personally, so the news is probably making it up. I’ll go tell that to my patient’s family. They haven’t even seen their husband/father in over a month, since he was admitted.

We are such a spoiled society in the United States. We get mad at slow internet and red lights, so naturally we’re up in arms over having to stay at home. We have to stay within the four walls of our sturdy, comfortably thermostat-adjusted dwelling. We’re protected from the elements, stuffing our bellies with an abundance of stock-piled food, and all we can say is, “I miss going into a restaurant to eat!”

All over this world mothers are crying because their children are starving. Fathers feel helpless that they cannot put a roof over their families’ heads. Families are running barefoot, with a pack of meager belongings slung over their backs, and they’re running to escape real bullets of persecution. Not the figurative bullets we think we are enduring from being forced to stay safe at home. Our inconvenience is the stuff some people dream of having, but we will never consider that.

We miss going to the mall, never thinking to thank God we have such things normally. We get angry over our children missing school activities, or our seniors not walking on stage at graduation. Do we ever consider the families who have lost children to this virus? They will never see them walk across any stage. The number of deaths by Coronavirus under age 18 seem low, until it’s your child.

Pictured above is Skylar Herbert who passed away in Detroit from COVID-19. Her father was a first responder.

Do you know I’ve even seen comments that COVID-19 only strikes “nasty” people with bad hygiene? Hmmm. I don’t even know where to begin. I could say this virus is no respecter of persons, hitting all races and socioeconomic levels, but instead I’ll ask a question. Since when is it acceptable to say one type of person is more understandable and acceptable to die? Like, it’s their fault where or what they were born into, and therefore they are less. Does this sound familiar to anyone? Gosh, we’re not much different than Hitler if we’re judging whose life matters more.

This pandemic has been really hard for me. I’ve dealt with the stress of caring for patients with the virus who nine times out of ten don’t get better, but I have tried to never let it escape me how well I have it. When my face hurt from the mask and I couldn’t breathe, or when I got tired and frustrated with the hectic environment, I would remind myself that I wasn’t scared, alone, and/or dying in a hospital bed.

Do you know the saying about trying to walk in another’s shoes? Maybe we should all lay in another’s hospital bed. It’s easy to dismiss the statistics if they’re far from your town/city, or if you tell yourself that they’re exaggerated. It’s not so easy for my Chaplain who lost his father, my friend who currently has four family members fighting the virus, or the nurses like myself who have seen more patients die with it than they can ever forget. It’s the same as the flu for someone who sits safely behind their smart phone screen on social media, sharing YouTube videos of conspiracy theories. But for the fifty year old man struggling to breathe in my hospital bed, being told to turn upside down and lay on his stomach to try and breathe better, well, this man knows it’s not like the flu at all.

It’s easy to blame the government or even Bill Gates for everything that’s going on when you’re sitting in front of your computer, but do you know who doesn’t have time for such extracurriculars? The weeping wife, pleading to God to save her husband, as she prays into his ear through the hospital room phone, hoping he can hear her, even though he won’t open his eyes. Yeah, that was hard for me to witness, but I simply joined her in prayer.

Perhaps that’s what we should be doing. Instead of complaining, let’s try sympathizing. Let’s join people in prayer, let’s offer them hope. Heck, at least offer them your hoarded toilet paper. But don’t lessen their grief and horrible situation by petty, selfish complaints. Instead of coming up with theories of why the numbers aren’t as bad as predicted, let’s thank God for His mercy, for answered prayers, and that flattening the curve and social distancing were successful. Let’s be grateful for life, not grumbling that it’s not as perfect as we believe it should be. Let’s take a moment and recognize that all the stuff we get frustrated about in this situation (like lack of toilet paper and bored children) are way better than an unexpected funeral that you can’t attend.

My Opinion on Conspiracy Videos

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I broke down and watched one of the frequently shared YouTube, conspiracy videos the other day, and I got sucked right in. I wanted to show it to my husband. I told him the details, and I found myself saying, “yeah, I can totally see the government doing that.”

Then I began to see hoards of my friends on social media sharing it, and my bristles went up. You see, I haven’t been a huge fan of COVID conspiracy, mainly because so many of the posts or articles I saw made false assumptions that since something suspicious was afoot, that everything must be a lie. In other words, if the news happened to be exaggerating the seriousness of COVID-19, then it must not be serious at all. If the numbers were being inflated, then what could be said of any truly positive cases? This line of irresponsible thought made this nurse angry. Serving in a COVID hotspot, I didn’t have the luxury of hypothesizing the cases were minimal or the disease not much different than the flu. I saw the people dying, and I couldn’t tell myself it wasn’t serious. It was all I could do not to cry myself to sleep at night from the very real and seriousness of COVID-19.

So when I continued to see more conspiracy videos and posts emerge, the most recent Plandemic, I became concerned. I mean, you can only be fed information repeatedly for so long before you question your indigestion. So I found myself with a feeling of worry.

Here’s the thing. I’m a smart girl. I was in the military, I’m well-read, and I’ve had forty-two years of life experience. I am aware of propaganda, and I’m no stranger to government intrusion. I am familiar with Snowden, and I have no doubt the government is/can watch me through my computer camera, or listen to my phone calls. The CIA scares the crap out of me, and there’s legit some evil folks in power. I am certain political spins are being placed on this issue, and politicians are using it for their own agenda. Big Brother is watching, and I know the devil whispers in the ear of some upper echelon peeps. I am not blind to evil among us. But I also am not going to put more faith in the Big Bad Wolf than I do my Father God. He is the only one who controls my life.

That being said, I found myself this morning wondering too much about what is true, and what is not. I felt a heavy emotion of uncertainty concerning world events, and I knew I should not be feeling that way. I asked God to speak clarity to my mind.

Immediately I felt the Lord speak to my heart, “you know who’s the author of confusion.”

And I felt an immediate weight lift from me.

1 Corinthians 14:33 (KJV)

For God is not the author of confusion, but of peace, as in all churches of the saints.

The Christian life isn’t an easy one, but it is a blessed one. We are faced with the situation of being in the world, but not of the world. So we must take into consideration the evil of this world, but we cannot let it overtake us, even mentally. We must be wise, but also confident. We must be aware, but not overcome. Uncertain, worldly circumstances bring fear, but the strong tower of the Lord brings courage. So while I find it wise and prudent to have open eyes to evil, corruption, and injustice, I find that in times like these (the most recent pandemic), where we are emotionally and mentally stressed, it’s easy to fall prey to deception and fear. What begins as concern and a search for truth, can easily become belief in things of this world. Our search for “truth” becomes like an idol, and we place more importance in the conspiracies we uncover than the Spirit that saves us from this sandstorm. See, we forget this world is a vapor, and can easily put too much stock in something that is here today and gone tomorrow. We forget whose corner we’re in, who holds the victory in battle, or even the fact that the war has already been won.

This morning I prayed for a Spirit of Truth to cover God’s people, because so many of us can think we’re searching for the “truth,” but I wonder if we’re really finding distraction and confusion from the enemy. Just like there’s two types of wisdom, heavenly and earthly, so too are there two types of truth. I know a lot of earthly wise folks, but when it comes to heavenly matters they are clueless. We can seek the “truth” in matters of the world around us, and we can even become extremely proud of ourselves for being “woke” to those truths, but the one thing we miss is how those same earthly truths can take up all the room in our mind and heart, leaving little room for heavenly truth. The heavenly truth is that none of this is a surprise to God. There’s no secret conspiracies to Him. He’s not worried about the bad guys pulling one over on us, and He holds the key to justice. Yes, God gives us courage to demand truth, and He gives us knowledge to ask questions and seek the right answers, but He is never the author of confusion. He will never have us chasing our tail or running through rabbit hole after rabbit hole for the heck of it. If you find yourself consumed or worried as of late, I would encourage you to go to the one source you know without a doubt is true, the Bible. Ask the Lord to reveal His Heavenly truth to you through His word. God speaks to us in many ways, but I’m not ready to believe He’s doing it through every YouTube or Facebook video that goes across my feed.

Isaiah 8:12 ESV

Do not call conspiracy all that this people calls conspiracy, and do not fear what they fear, nor be in dread.

Snags: Everything Happens For A Reason

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I haven’t shared many personal stories of our little family lately, but after today’s events especially, I felt the need to tell you about it. Today we were finally able to move to another RV Park. The state of Florida had opened back up (kinda), and we packed up our moving home this morning to go elsewhere. The camping membership we hold allows us to camp for free as long as we shuffle between parks within our membership, and even a couple of weeks free at sister parks. It just so happened we had been at a sister park when the Governor decided to lock down the state. The company communication we had received early April said if we happened to be in a sister park we wouldn’t be kicked out, but we would be required to pay rent. We initially tried to get back to our home base park, but when it became apparent we weren’t being allowed to move by law we accepted our fate. No anxiety, no stress. We knew God would provide.

I paid the park around thirty days of lot rent, and we settled down to ride this one out, come what may. It was closer to work, at least, and we focused on bright sides like that. The day after our payment I received a call back from them to inform me they would be refunding our money.

Her exact words were, “we were told not to charge you for your stay.”

I didn’t ask who told them that, but rather took the good news with a smile. I’m connected with other members through social media, and it became apparent that not everyone (in fact, no one I knew of) received this same exception. I saw a lot of people angry over having to pay out of pocket. I don’t know if it was because I’m a nurse, but I just took it as a God is good to us moment and moved on.

I just had to share that story, but that’s not even the real message of my post today. As we seek God’s will He continues to bless us more than we deserve, and the above was simply another example of that.

But back to moving… we worked together in fluid motion, despite sitting in one spot for a month and a half. We were just about ready to roll, but as we closed up the slides we hit a snag. I watched one of the three close, but then nothing.

I heard Ben say, “ut-oh. We got a problem.”

The slides had stopped going in, and I knew this could be a number of things, some being quite costly. But even putting the financial aspect aside, we didn’t really need the delay. I had a few days off, and we were taking a much-needed getaway after we moved our RV. We had found a secluded state park, and since the children had not left the house in 8 weeks, we were all excited for the trip. Naturally I wondered if we’d even make it.

My husband ran through all the things he knew to do. The awning also wouldn’t move, so we knew it was a power issue, not just a slide issue, thank the Lord. He checked fuses, breakers, GFC outlets, the power box outside. When we came up empty on our end, we wondered if perhaps it was a problem at the electric box. So I called the park office, and they said they’d send a maintenance man out to check their box.

As I stood outside wondering what it might be I felt led to pray this. “Lord, what do you want to show us through this? How can you use this situation to impact your kingdom?”

See, I’ve learned something through the years. Ever heard that old adage “everything happens for a reason?” Well, while it sounds cliche, it’s actually true. Although some problems arise because of our own poor decisions rather than God’s will, I am of the belief that He has His hands in all things, especially when we invite Him to be a part of all of our life. I was the kind of person that knew delays were part of God’s plan, whether to protect me or redirect me, and I trusted Him no matter what the situation. Time and time again He had proven His ability to work all things for our good, and I had come to a place in my life where I also wanted Him to use me for His good. Hence, the “how can you use this” question. He had done so much (and continues to do so much) for us that I desired to do for Him.

Within a few minutes of my prayer a golf cart rolled up, and I knew immediately the why. As I watched the maintenance guy and my husband speak together I had no doubt in my mind. This was the purpose for our problem. I was to pray for this man.

Now, before you misunderstand, it’s not that I felt my prayers specifically were the key to this man’s salvation. God is all powerful and able to do as He wills, but the fact is He likes to get His children involved. It’s like a family business, and Poppa gives His kids the keys to His empire, and all the tools they need to run it like He models. When His children pray, filled with His power and strength, they are able to make things move in the spiritual realm, and I felt like there was a spiritual battle going on for this man’s soul.

I felt like this man had a part to play, much like we all do, and God needed him in our family to work His purposes for his future. It’s like life is similar to the ripples on a lake after a stone is thrown. You never know how the waves you make when you jump in will impact people on the shore, for generations to come even. I didn’t know what the Lord had in mind for this man, but I felt like it was important. I felt like my prayers were strengthening the angel armies, like a battle cry prior to sounding the charge, and it helped tip the fight in the favor of good.

The gentleman didn’t stick around long before he determined there wasn’t a problem with their box, but he had shown up long enough for me to know to pray for him. And boy, did I! Meanwhile we knew the problem rested with our rig, and like a veil was lifted suddenly I heard my husband pronounce, “I think I figured it out.”

It was something he had already checked, right at first, and somehow missed. As he set to check the issue I knew in my heart this would fix it. God’s purpose had prevailed, and we could go now. Sure enough, the slides went in, we hooked up, and we took off. Somehow we were only 30 minutes behind schedule, even though that snafu had seemed much longer.

I felt such joy as we drove away, and not because we had escaped a hefty repair bill, or even due to the white, sandy beach that awaited me. I felt joy because of Jesus, and I have never felt so full than I do when I live a life loving and serving Him. I’ve discovered that a life serving the Lord isn’t perfect and without pain. A perfect life would have let us move to our home base RV Park when we tried to, but then I never would have seen how God can move mountains out of the way for me. A perfect life would contain slides that never stopped working, but then I would not have seen how God can use me to work in the middle of my mess, for His glory.

Check On Your Nurse Friends. We Are Not Ok.

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I took a survey from my employer today, and as I went through the questions I was surprised by how easily I could answer one way or another. It was a survey for how the pandemic, COVID-19 was affecting us, and as I clicked each bubble I understood even more just how much things had changed. One question that stood out to me asked if I thought about work more when at home. The fact was I had always been proud of my ability to leave work at work. I am an extremely compassionate person, but after twenty years in healthcare I had learned that to keep my sanity intact, patient care needed to stay at the bedside. It would be there waiting when I returned. But today, as I pondered the question on the survey, I realized that had changed. Everything had changed.

It had really started to hit me, the weight of it all, a few nights ago. I sat in bed the night before work and I prayed. I felt so down, and the fact was I had for weeks. There was nothing wrong going on in my life. I wasn’t financially stressed. My marriage was amazing, my children healthy and adorable. I had absolutely nothing to be upset about, yet I was. The only out of place factor I could pinpoint? COVID-19.

Years ago I had come to a place in my nursing career where I absolutely loved my job. I considered patient care to be a privilege, and even on tough days I considered it a wonderful vocation. It was a calling, and I carried the task with a smile. This past week I noticed an unwelcome feeling coming over me. It was a feeling I hadn’t experienced in many years. It was dread. I was dreading the return to the critical care bedside. How could I dread something I loved so much? I cried out to God to bring back my joy for the field.

When I sat in bed praying to feel better I realized that all this was hitting me harder than I thought. I realized that even though I thought I was doing ok, I really wasn’t. Even though I thought I could handle stress well, I don’t guess I had ever experienced stress like this.

Typically, nursing is about healing. A patient comes in sick, and we make them better. That’s not COVID-19.

And yes, I had experienced lots of death and dying. It was part of the job. So it wasn’t the people dying that got me. It was the fact that most of them seemed to be dying. The ones that were in Critical Care, anyway. The prognosis of these people was horrible, and when you have to break that to a daughter who can’t talk to her mom, or even see her, it’s depressing.

I was used to elderly and debilitated patients dying, but this was different. I was seeing people my age, younger, or just a few years older, and they were not doing well at all.

Nursing had always been a career where I had to be careful with infectious disease. I frequently encountered illnesses I could pick up and take home if I didn’t use proper protection or hygiene, but this was different. It was so new, and I watched the information available change day by day. One minute it’s airborne, the next droplet. One day the CDC says one thing, the next day, something else. The suggested PPE (personal protective equipment) changed faster than I could keep up, and it became this constantly evolving situation. I sadly knew that each time I came to work things would be different than when I left.

Do I need to shower and change clothes at work? Is it in my hair? The questions I had to ask myself. Is a Level 1 mask good enough, or is a Level 3 safer? Wait, now you’re saying it’s aerosolized and I should definitely wear googles? Why didn’t anyone tell me that yesterday?

Am I bringing bad stuff home to my children? They’re so little still. The fact that our government and healthcare system was treating the response to this unlike anything I had ever encountered only added to my thoughts. I mean, your president says everyone needs to stay home. Except you. You need to run into it head on! Unless your patient’s heart stops. Then, don’t run; put on your PPE first. It was going against everything we had ever done as lifesavers!

Everyone was watching us. People whose sole job was to make sure we were protecting ourselves properly. And while I appreciated the effort, it also made you feel pretty odd. I mean, what kind of crazy crap makes hoards of upper management and administration watch your every move? What exactly were we dealing with? The answer to that seemed to change every day!

I never felt so helpless. Everything we tried seemed to be in vain. They typically weren’t getting better. One week this was the go-to drug of choice, the next week something else, and the next week the surprising news that none of it would improve outcomes. In fact, it might make it worse.

It didn’t matter that the mask or respirator hurt my face, left bruises and sores, or that it left me feeling drowsy and cloudy headed after so many hours on straight. It didn’t change the fact that I was paranoid about the seal, worried that the tiny virus could somehow get through.

The stress made me become the type of person I didn’t want to be, short tempered and easily frustrated. The high acuity of the severely critical patients forced me to become the kind of nurse I didn’t want to be, hurried, harried, just struggling to keep them alive, keep my head above the water. My shift would end and I’d be sure I had missed something, which drove me crazy, but at least they had lived through my shift. They would likely die after I left. The prognosis was always poor.

Seeing the fear in their eyes, or hearing the words, “am I going to die,” remembering those words after they were gone. Holding their hand, offering comforting, muffled words, but knowing you were no adequate substitute for their loved ones.

Speaking of loved ones. We had those too, and just this week my nine year old said sadly, “Mom, I don’t want you to go to work. I’m worried you’ll get sick.”

But then I also had loved ones who had no idea. As I was leaving work today it occurred to me that not many of my family members had called to check on me. It wasn’t their fault; they didn’t know. I had not told them the toll this pandemic was having on me, and that’s when I knew I needed to. I see Facebook posts of people who don’t even think the pandemic is real, or that it’s like the flu. They have the privilege of not knowing how hard this is hitting me and my coworkers. I don’t normally try to play a pity party or seek attention, but I realized that a lot of people just didn’t know. They didn’t know that we’re not ok.

I have spoken with my coworkers and peers, and all the ones I have questioned are feeling the same pressing weight as me. They’re tired, worn thin, worried, beyond the typical stress of saving lives on a daily basis. It’s beyond skipping lunch and bathroom breaks to keep someone from dying. That’s just a regular Thursday. This, this is different. This is harder.

I don’t know the answers, and I don’t know if things will ever be the same. I don’t know if there’s anything you can do to make it better for your nursing friends. You can pray. You can send us a message, drop off some toilet paper, or even just a long-distance hug. We need so many hugs right now, and social distancing is messing that all up. The typical outlets aren’t available to decompress, or the ways we deal with stress are not allowed. Nurses have the added weight of homeschooling, when that’s not something they are used to, or a spouse out of work. We’re dealing with all the same stress and aggravation as the rest of the population, but also the additional stress of facing this monster up close and personal.

We can’t pretend it’s not happening or busy ourselves with conspiracy theories. We’re too preoccupied with telling ourselves, “it’s not your fault. You did everything you could do.”

This is all I can write right now. There’s more, so much more, but I am exhausted after a day of the above. I need to lay down so I can wake up and do it again. See, that’s the great thing about nurses. We are not ok, but you’ll still find us when you need us. We’ll be in the clinics, ER’s, and units ready to do all we can do for those who need us. We’ll worry about us later.

Stepping Out in Faith Isn’t as Hard as I Always Thought

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This morning I was reading in the book of James again. There’s a lot packed into such a small book of the Bible, so it didn’t matter that I had just finished it last night. I started it over this morning, and then I jumped to Galatians. Funny how the Spirit leads, and I smiled as both chapters I had read from those particular books talked about the faith of Abraham.

Abraham. He’s the founding father of us all, that guy whose faith was counted as righteousness, and something we can all desire to be like. Although I am not sure I’d pass the test if God asked me to sacrifice my daughter on the altar. And I guess that’s what God talked to me about this morning. Faith, and how/why the stepping out in it part isn’t as bad as I had always imagined.

I bounced back and forth this morning between verses of the importance of faith in action, deeds that went along with the faith we proclaimed. Abraham had not known where God was going to have him end up, but when God said go, he did. It reminded me of our own experience in the fall of 2017.

God had spoken something very unusual to us. He had told us to go.

Go?! We had just bought our home, didn’t even have our last baby out of diapers. How was that supposed to work?!

But He had said it. The interesting part to me, in hindsight, is that we never doubted it. Y’all, I have doubts about my ability to always hear God correctly, but in this instance I knew without a doubt. My husband knew too, and that surprised me. For a man normally so contemplative when it came to God’s will, even he seemed solid as a rock. We just knew what we were supposed to do, and we did it.

There were naysayers. People we loved and respected questioned our decision. The world at large questioned our decision. I mean, why would anyone want to sell all the stuff they had worked twenty years to obtain? Why would you drag your children away from family and friends? Why would you trade a safe, comfortable job, retirement vested, for an uncertain, possibly unstable one? Why would you trade 2,200 square feet for 200?! It didn’t make sense to the world, I’m sure, but it made sense to us. Why was that?

I had always been a collector of things. I had things I had obtained from all around the world, and after my mother (a fellow collector) had passed away, I also held her things. I loved my things. Really, really loved them. Yet when I felt like God said to get rid of it all, it wasn’t an issue. I took a corner, gave myself 15 minutes, and I sorted into give, sell, or toss piles. I did it with my whole house. Everything. Gone.

My daughters loved their toys. Like, seriously loved their toys. Yet when I gave them one rubber-made tote and said, “fill it with what you want, the rest is going away,” they jumped at the chance. It didn’t make any sense to me, but they never complained. They never cried. In fact, they made a game of it. It was as if they enjoyed taking a room full of toys and paring it down into a little box. They smiled as they showed me their chosen treasures. Weird, right?

I read about Abraham this morning, and I thought back to when God told us to go. I remembered how easy it had all been. Despite the challenges, we had gone through with it. Despite the naysayers, we had moved forward. Despite the uncertainty and wackiness of the Word, we had left our home with a few suitcases and even less boxes, and we had hit the road to go wherever God said to go. I remember being scared, a little anxious at times, but nowhere near as bonkers as you would think a total life shift would make me. I took my children to a new city, with nowhere long term to shelter, a job that could fall through at any moment, and we had a ball. We loved it!

Now we live in an RV, and we live each day still with a “whatcha got next, God” attitude. I realize that when the Lord asks you to walk out your faith, He doesn’t ask you to walk alone. When the Lord requires deeds to follow the faith you profess, He gives you the strength to carry it out. I realized that a couple of years ago when we struck out for the unknown, we were able to move forward because God willed it. There was nothing extraordinary about us or our faith. He had simply given us the ability to step out in what He asked us to do. He had stripped away our flesh, and He had led us in Spirit. After all, our flesh would have flipped out at what we were doing back then, but our Spirits had simply obeyed.

It helped me understand that no matter what God has in store for our future, He will equip us to walk in it. It will never be something we must do on our own strength and might. All He asks is for a heart that seeks His, a heart that listens for next step directions, never being so distracted by the noise of the world, that you never hear His suggestion. After all, God never makes us do anything. He simply asks. It’s up to us if we will hear, and what we will do after that. I recognized today that we never have to worry that we can’t do what He asks, because He never asks us to do something He isn’t willing to make a way for. Where we lack, He will act. And looking back you’ll marvel at how stepping out was so easy.

How I Learned to Fall in Love

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This morning I was reading the Bible, and as I came upon a particular scripture I thought of my spouse.

Psalm 37:4 (ESV)

Delight yourself in the Lord, and he will give you the desires of your heart.

Immediately my mind went to my husband. This was no surprise. All morning I had been filled with love for him, and it seemed that now the Lord was telling me why.

As my husband had walked into the living room, first thing this morning, I had smiled. I had smiled at his bed head and scraggly beard. I had smiled at his sleepy eyes, surrounded with crow’s feet. We were both getting older, but the more his hair grayed and his wrinkles deepened, the more handsome he was to me.

I had smiled as he stood at the coffee maker, his rainbow, kitty cat pajama pants grinning back at me. What other middle aged man could make “People of WalMart” attire look so good? The press of his chest against the dull white of his stretched, old undershirt made me melt, and he was the only man who could make me respond this way. On his worse day, he put more flutters in my belly than People magazine’s Sexy Man Alive (any year and counting) could even try to achieve.

I put my Bible down, watching him through our big window, as he traipsed through the grass in compression stocking feet, hunting for a snake he had seen. My knight in shining pj’s, smirking like Steve Erwin on the trail of a crikey rattler. I couldn’t take my eyes off him, and not simply because I feared a snake bite on his black-socked toe. He was my everything.

I don’t often speak of him like that. Everything. It seemed too much, like I was placing him on a pedestal above God Himself, but I finally understood the Lord knew better. After all, it was God who had given me the gift of my husband, and I finally understood the gift wasn’t just someone to do life with. It was someone to understand love with.

God is love, and He freely gives us that love. He gave it in the gift of His Son, but even with that there are many who can not comprehend it. I guess He knew that would happen, and that’s why He had it included in scripture. He reminded spouses to love one another as Christ loved the church. Husbands and wives have the opportunity to experience the love of Christ in a concrete, tangible way, here on earth, but too often miss it. You see, that was my gift in my husband. God knew Ben would love me like Jesus loves us all (or as similar as possible for us imperfect people to manage).

As I read that Psalm this morning I realized I had finally learned how to fall in love, and stay in love. I had sought the Lord with my whole heart, giving Him every single part of my life, and in turn He has given me the desires of my heart. A heart desires love. Not the romcom, Hollywood kind, but the real stuff. The stuff that doesn’t make it into romance novels. The real deal that wasn’t always pretty, because life seldom is, but was perfect in its raw honesty and steadfastness. He had given me an unconditional love, so like the one He modeled here on earth, and He delighted in watching us dance and laugh in our romance.

This was the only way I could understand our marriage, why it was so perfectly imperfect, and such a beautiful mess. It was the only explanation for why I grew to love this man more and more, each and every day, even as our bodies aged and our worse idiosyncrasies emerged. It was the only thing that made sense in a heart that thought it couldn’t possibly hold any more abundant affection, yet somehow each day expanded its walls. He was my gift, my gift of love, my personal representation of Christ’s dedication to me.

My husband would never throw a stone at me, even though I have given him many reasons, but he also knew I wouldn’t lob one back in exchange. I was the desire of Ben’s heart too, and as he had diligently and unabashedly sought Jesus, I had become that love his heart needed. I had become his example of love in the flesh. We had been woven together, with Christ running through us, and the love that had emerged was cataclysmic. Even now as I write it leaves me breathless.

To put it simply, I found the more I sought the Lord, the more He revealed Himself. And the more He revealed Himself in my marriage, in my husband, and in our relationship. I’ve been blessed that this hasn’t been a one-sided deal. We have achieved our happiness through us both investing our time, our time to seek Jesus, our time to seek how to bless one another, our time to show appreciation for the gift of love we’ve been given.

I’m unsure how to end this post, and perhaps that’s fitting. Too often marriages end prematurely, either in divorce, or worse, indifference. So many couples end before they even begin. They never see the kind of love that’s free for their taking, if only they could delight to find it, to understand it’s found in Jesus.

I heard once that you never stop learning. So here’s to us all continuing our education in love, seeking it like it’s the most honored, advanced degree. Never seeing the end of our quest for perfect love, and finding it in our Savior, who blesses us with His love, here on earth, now and forever.

Making it Not Meaningless

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God is doing something in me. I’m not yet sure what that is, but it’s something. Do you ever feel that way?

Three years ago my husband and I had reached an odd place in life. We found ourselves for the first time feeling anxious, downtrodden, and like things just weren’t right. We didn’t know what it was, but we knew who we could turn to in times of trouble. With that in mind we both took a greater interest in scripture. I mean, we had liked the Bible before, but at this stage in our life it became a deep need. We were thirsty, and God’s Word became our water. We were feeling empty, and His Bread of Life became our sustenance. We loved life, but we knew there was more than what we were doing to live it. I suppose that empty, strange time taught me that feeling like you’re lacking isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps it’s just God forcing you to seek a solution.

Towards the end of 2017 we realized that God had big change in mind. We sold everything we owned. We left our dream house behind. We left family we loved. And most importantly, we left what was known and comfortable. I mean, being in your comfort zone isn’t the best thing in life, but it can sure feel that way when God leads you towards the unknown. Uncertainty is scary, but I discovered that’s where you go to find your faith.

Today as I talked to the Lord about what was rumbling around in my head lately, I felt the leading to read Ecclesiastes. Ugh. I had always found it such a depressing read. Meaningless?! The guy just droned on and on about how life sucked. Or that’s the way I remembered it anyway. Funny how your perception can change.

Today I found myself nodding along. I had sought wisdom, gone to college, gotten that degree and dependable job my dad had suggested. I had enjoyed my toil, finding pleasure in helping others in healthcare. Certainly nothing wrong with that. I had worked hard, built my credit score, and got the house I always wanted. I had beautiful baby girls and all the fancy frills that went along with it. I had obtained the perfect life, and I was happy!

Then I had let go of all the things I had worked so hard for. Not because they weren’t enjoyable gifts. I let them go because I knew there was more. If the past month during a pandemic has taught me anything, it’s that there’s more for us here on earth. When you watch the world (as you know it) fall apart, you’re reminded how little you actually fish for men. When existence on this side of Heaven is questioned, you recognize that a kingdom mindset is the only one that really matters. It’s the one that’s not meaningless.

What an unpopular opinion that one is, you know? Society today knows little else than to toil. We have been raised to believe that is what gives us value in our lives. How hard we can work to achieve stability and station. Nothing like a nationwide lockdown to show things in a different light, eh?

Over the past couple of years I have discovered how to put my trust completely and totally in Jesus. We asked Him where to work, where to live, and how to go through each day. Where do we sow our time, our money, our focus, Lord? And as we asked, He answered.

This afternoon I found myself feeling like even though I had yanked myself from the familiar to the unknown, it still wasn’t quite far enough. It’s like once you’ve touched the hem of His garment, the rest seems fairly mundane. As I walked further from the pleasures of the world, I felt Him whisper, “just a little bit more.”

What is God doing in me right now? I’m not sure. I do know each day He leads me closer, and He shows me what’s important in life. I know the Lord wants His children to be happy. I mean, I bought my daughters some electronic tablets during this quarantine. I know it’s not the best thing in this world for their little minds, but I do know it gives them joy too. My Heavenly Father smiles at me enjoying life, enjoying my gifts, enjoying myself. That’s not meaningless. I suppose it’s just good to remember that the happy gifts aren’t always the lasting gifts. The lasting gifts are relationships, appreciation of the people in my life, and fulfilling the role God has for me in this life.

I felt like God told me today, “it’s not for you to have the knowledge of good and evil. It’s for you to have the knowledge of my love. Life without my love is meaningless.”

So, what’s God doing in my life right now? I’m not completely sure. But I imagine it has something to do with helping more people gain the knowledge of His love.

COVID and the Cross

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Today we celebrated (at home) my favorite holiday, Easter. For Christians this isn’t about bunnies and colored eggs (even though that’s fun stuff), but more importantly it’s about the Resurrection of our Savior. Even the most wayward believer will feel the emotion pulling at their eyelids on this day, the day we remember that Jesus died on the cross to free us from sin. I mean, what other person can you think of who would ask their Dad, a Father who controls the rising of the sun and the ocean’s waves, to forgive the people who just conspired to kill Him? I think most of us would ask Poppa to teach those guys a lesson they wouldn’t soon forget. But alas, that just wasn’t part of the plan, was it? Nope. The plan from the beginning was to save men (and women) who didn’t know they needed saving, to save people who didn’t deserve saving, and even to save the stubborn who didn’t want saving. That’s love.

As I was praying in the Spirit today I felt like God told me that we’re all the prodigal son. Remember that story? He left home, spent his inheritance in record time, and came back with his tail between his legs just hoping for a job as a servant and a little crust of bread. But instead of his father giving him the third degree, or saying “I told you so, son,” he welcomed him with open arms. Then he threw him a party. His father gave him the best of what he had, even though he had squandered his own portion. That’s love.

We, the collective prodigals, love our Father. We know the sacrifice of His son. Yet we waste the inheritance we’ve been given, even though it’s the only thing we can take with us to Heaven. Instead of holding the gift from our Father of peace and security in Him while walking through this life, we chase the pleasures of this world. We forget the courage He has placed within us, and instead fear the unknown around us, never remembering that He controls it all. And worse yet, we place most of our value on things of zero kingdom value. We might as well be lying in the filth of the pig pen, since we’ve forgotten the royal heritage from which we come.

You know, I’ve really enjoyed the side effects of this recent pandemic. Sure, I wish I could go to the water park, especially since it’s 90 degrees in Florida today, but I must say I enjoy the not going. Something about going, it brings out that hurried nature. And I’m not saying I love the sickness that consumes so many. I am a nurse, after all, and I’ve seen firsthand the terrible trauma caused by this virus. It makes my heart weep. But I’ve also seen the ability it’s had to make us stop and be still. Now that is what we needed.

Hunger made the prodigal son run home to his Poppa, and a similar hunger has taken hold in our country. I’ve seen people run to God in their fear, uncertainty, and desperation. And even though we deserve a stern “I told you so, son,” He never even considers it. He just embraces us.

I’ve seen families sit down and talk, like, really talk. They’re no longer too busy to have a conversation.

I’ve seen people stop and enjoy a sunset since they’re no longer rushing about, too busy to see everyday blessings.

Children are home with their parents, spouses are taking a break from work, and they’re all seeing the beauty of time spent together. The world had gotten so busy, I think we forgot how special that is.

I’ve seen Christians begin to move in their spiritual gifting, myself included, as if we just needed that little push to make us more courageous.

I’ve seen humanity open its self to others. And even though there’s the selfish few taking more than they need, more than that I’ve seen an influx of giving. We’ve been forced to slow down and see the needs of a neighbor. We’ve had our eyes opened to how blessed we each are in our own way, and it’s encouraged us to share that blessing with someone else.

I’ve seen people realize that we don’t need department stores and malls to enjoy life. We don’t need amusement parks and sit down dining at its finest. In fact, I think people are suddenly understanding the sanctity of life. We want health, wellness, security, and safety! Y’all, this COVID-19 pandemic has changed us. We see the numbers rise, people dying, young and old alike, and we finally appreciate the gift of each unlabored breath we’re given.

Today, as we celebrated Easter, I was reminded how the Resurrection changed everything! The frightened apostles who had run from the Romans, even going so far as to deny their association with that man Jesus, suddenly became bold proclaimers of the truth that He is the Savior of the world. The curtain was torn, and what normally took the blood of an animal and a High Priest now was accomplished by the blood of one man. What used to be an annual sacrifice for forgiveness now became a sacrifice once and for all. It. Was. Finished. He sealed the deal, defeating death, covering the sins of mankind, and giving us the right to be called children of God. The separation was gone. He gave us a way to the Father, and He gave us a way to live life abundantly until we joined them at the banquet table. His rising from the dead changed everything!

Do you know what the resurrection and this pandemic have in common? Change. This virus is unprecedented, and I think that despite all the negatives surrounding it, it’s changed us for the better. God has a way of doing that, you know, using what the devil means for evil for our good instead. This virus has forced us to slow down, to take an inventory of our lives, and to see what’s really important. Guess what? As much as I love a clean bum, toilet paper ain’t it. The people that surround me, and even the people I’m currently social distancing from, that is what’s important. Life is about knowing God and making Him known. It’s about showing His love. It’s about preparing our hearts for eternity with Him, and it’s about taking everyone along that we can.

While I was praying earlier I also thought about a refiner’s fire. You see, it takes heat not just to bend and shape metal for a greater purpose, but to purify it so that it will be stronger and more valuable than before. A metalsmith was once asked how he knew when his piece he was working with got hot enough to be completely refined, and he answered, “when I can see my reflection in it.” I think perhaps God wants to see more of Himself in His children, and less of the world. Disease doesn’t come from God, it’s from the devil, but I think God has used the heat of this pandemic to purify His children. The question now becomes, what will we do with the finished product?

The resurrection has changed life and death for good!

1 Corinthians 15:55

Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?

My prayer would be that we would all remain changed from this virus too. COVID-19 was recently compared to 9/11. I remember that day. I was active duty Navy, and the effects of that day will carry with me always. I can recall being so proud of how the Country and all the people in it came together following such tragedy. It was amazing! But then we forgot. People went back to being selfish and uncaring, and really, it’s only gotten worse in the past decade. We have become so hard hearted, a society that only cares about numero uno, but over the past two weeks I’ve seen a glimmer of that past compassion I remember. I’ve seen it in hand-sewn face masks and the kind words given to the healthcare community. I’ve seen it in donated food items to those in need and to record online church attendance. Folks that normally won’t step into a church building are listening to sermons on Facebook, and they’re understanding that in bad times, God is good. People are seeing their need for God, and like the prodigal son whose growling stomach compelled him, the hungry hearts of hurting humans are crying out for the peace and fulfillment of the Lord!

Perhaps this fire (virus) is going to continue until God sees more of Himself in us. Perhaps He’s just waiting for all His children to run home. I think He’s got the fatted calf all picked out, and even the best of royal robes. He is calling the prodigals to return, and He is desiring our change in heart, a heart that turns to Him. He’s allowing this to burn into our memories so that we don’t forget. He’s allowing it to change us, and He’s allowing us to be the change. I pray that things never return to “normal.” At least, not what the world was calling normal lately. I pray we are changed by this pandemic, and I pray it’s a heart change that will last forever, making us to never be the same lost generation that is distracted by the shiny, counterfeit trinket the world’s been serving, rather than accepting the precious, eternal treasure our Father gives.

What COVID-19 Has Done for the Church

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Do you see what COVID-19 has done for the church? No, it’s not that it’s given it that push to get on social media. And it’s not about whether to meet, the importance of staying connected (although that’s important), or even the gumption to broadcast services live. What I’m talking about actually has nothing to do with whether a building has its doors opened or closed, or whether the government is skating too close to infringing on constitutional rights. It has nothing to do with religious organizations and everything to do with your relationship. Because, I’ll tell you a secret. You are the church. Allow me to explain.

Recently a coworker asked me how I had gotten to such a strong level of faith in my life. The person was pleasantly surprised when I said it wasn’t a switch that was flipped in my life, or even an overnight ordeal, but rather years of seeking and growth. I relayed the story of how my growing closer to Jesus had began.

Somewhere around 2010 I came across a wonderful opportunity at work. It was a weekend position that allowed me to work only 24 hours a week, while still getting paid for 40 hours. Pretty sweet, right? I had a baby, and another on my wish list, so working part time for full time pay was a God-send! The only problem? I would agree to work every weekend. While Saturday wasn’t a problem for me, Sunday was a lot harder. For one, I loved my church. My father-in-law was our pastor, and I worried how they would feel about the position.

It turns out, my father-in-law didn’t mind. He knew something I was about to learn. He knew something COVID-19 is trying to teach us all. He understood that a personal relationship with Jesus wasn’t found on Sunday morning alone, and he felt pretty confident in the Lord’s ability to show me just that.

My biggest concern after I took that weekender job? I worried my relationship with the Lord would suffer missing Sunday mornings, so I determined that it would not! How did I do that? I made the choice to seek the Lord more closely each and every day. I couldn’t go to church on Sunday, and my small congregation didn’t meet any other time. So I went to church Monday morning on my couch. I went to church Tuesday morning while I sipped my coffee. I went to church Wednesday morning while I fed my baby. I think you’re getting the point.

Ten years ago my life began to turn around for the better because I made a decision. I decided that since I couldn’t go to church, I would bring church to me! I started to set aside time daily to read my Bible, seek the Lord, pray, and listen to His voice. And we as a country are being given this same chance now! We are being told to stay home, and we have the opportunity to use that time wisely. We’re not just in a time in our lives where we can’t go to church. We’re in a time of our lives where we can bring church home. We can bring it into our hearts!

Even after I switched jobs and could attend worship with others on Sunday mornings, it was too late! My life had already changed, thank the Lord. I had begun to manifest the fruits of the Spirit. It wasn’t just my schedule that had changed. My personality had changed. I found that a life where I saturated myself with scripture, was a life where I could be more joyful and triumphant. I learned how to deal with the world’s problems according to the Bible’s answers. In those pages I discovered how much my Savior loved me, and sadly and honestly, I had spent ten years in church on Sundays as a child/teenager, never learning that truth. Salvation, discipline, and true life change aren’t always found in a building. And a deep relationship that changes you from the inside out, rarely is. Life change is found in time with Him.

This pandemic has given us all the rare opportunity to seek Him more. It has forced upon us the need to be fed at home, and I’m not talking about sustenance you get from the grocery store. I’m talking about the kind of spiritual food that will leave you never hungry again. It’s the kind of bread that gives you life, abundant life at that, and it fills you so full that fear can’t fit there. It fills you so overflowing that the uncertain circumstances surrounding you don’t stand a chance. It’s the Manna that God sends down from Heaven, and when you taste and eat you understand that He always provides just enough.

Do you know what the church (meaning the physical building AND all of us as the bride of Christ) needs? We need to learn how to be mature. God doesn’t intend for us to stay babies, being fed our spiritual bottle on Sunday mornings, thinking that will keep us full all week! He calls us to eat meat. He wants us to be self-feeding, steak-chewing, garden-growing, fruit-baring farmers. Y’all, it’s like He wants us to be homesteading harvesters who water where we’re planted. Of course He wants believers gathering together and supporting one another! Don’t get me wrong; this isn’t a church-bashing post. No, what this is is a reminder that we are the church, and we are called to grow the church. The fact is, it’s hard to grow a crop when all you do is eat the fruit. If you’re wanting to harvest, like God calls us all to do, then you have to start planting seeds, and folks forget you begin by planting the seeds in you.

So, I would encourage you to take advantage of this time. See it for what it is. It’s an opportunity, much like the one I experienced ten years ago, to seek the Lord so you don’t lose Him. Y’all, He’s not hard to find. We’re just usually so distracted by all the noise that we miss Him, but perhaps now is a National Call to Quiet. Perhaps Christ is calling us all away from the noise and into His arms. We have been given the chance to bring church into our hearts, the place where God has wanted it built all along. Don’t miss the positive change we can bring from such a negative time in our history. Don’t miss out on the greatest opportunity of all. To build His Church in you.