Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

Confessions of a Conservative Christian

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As I watched the rain come down in long, wet sheets I felt the Spirit of the Lord. He was in the cool wind that blew rivers of rain down the sidewalk and in the laughter of my nine year old as she laughed, jumping through puddles gleefully. He was everywhere, but mostly He was in my heart, whispering His desire to pour down His rain. As I watched the summer storm blow through my neighborhood, I knew this was what we needed most. A washing, a refreshing, a cleansing, to take away all the things we cling to, all the things not of Jesus, and to bring us back to His heart.

His heart. That is what had come to me earlier. As I drove and prayed the word “heartbeat” came to mind. Don’t laugh, but for some reason I thought of that scene from the movie with Patrick Swayze, Dirty Dancing, where he is trying to teach the clumsy Francis Houseman how to find her rhythm. He places his hand over hers, on his heart, and he says “lubdub, lubdub,” showing her that moving through dance steps is like feeling the beat through your whole body. I think his words were, “it’s a feeling,” and I understood God was wanting us to get His feeling for the world.

I felt like the Lord was telling me that we needed to get in sync with His heartbeat, and until we could do that, we couldn’t move in the right direction. The Word says we’re one body, but the fact is a body has a head. Unless we’re following the leader it doesn’t work. If one foot wants to go right, and the other foot wants to go left, you don’t end up actually going anywhere.

Naturally this thought led to political parties. I’ve heard a lot of that going on lately. People being accused of leaning one direction too far, and it made me wonder if we couldn’t just go straight, following the true compass for our direction. I have always considered myself a Republican, a Conservative Christian, but society had left me lately feeling like a vagabond, like a wanderer, a sojourner searching for my way home. The thing I was discovering was that perhaps the place I had always felt so comfortable wasn’t my home anymore. Perhaps the Lord was leading me to His home.

Democrat and Liberal had always been like dirty words where I came from, and I certainly couldn’t bend on my moral views. Some things the left stood for I couldn’t stand with, but many ways the right was acting didn’t settle right with my spirit. To me, we all had it jacked up, and we had gotten so busy building our own agendas, we forgot the cornerstone that had been laid down. God was calling us back to that foundation, that heartbeat, that place of love we had wandered away from.

Over the past couple of months I had seen more bickering, more disagreement, and more division than ever before. It’s like the country had two sides, you had to pick which camp you wanted to be a part of, but sadly neither seemed to be a place I’d want to lay my head down at night. I certainly wouldn’t sleep peacefully being a part of either. Then I started to notice other lost children running around in the wilderness in between. Good people, with good hearts, who couldn’t find there place in what the world had become. God was opening the eyes of His children, and once open many of us couldn’t believe what we were seeing. Had we always been blind to how off track we had gotten?

The more I’ve fallen in love with scripture over the past few years, the more I consume the truth therein, the more I see what Jesus wants for His church. One body, unified. His Spirit, in us. Us in Him, seated together with the Father in Heavenly places. Not just after we die, but now, while we wait for His return. We have been commissioned to draw all people to His table, but we forgot that along the way. Instead we decided to throw our own dinner party.

We’ve stopping listening to God’s word and applying it to our lives. We separated church and state, yet stand on our religion to throw large stones at those who are different than us. We have built idols out of our political party, and we’ve covered our home and families with banners made of cloth, rather than banners of His protection and love. We have thrown down the greatest commandment, in favor of cherry-picking the ones that meet our agenda. We have made our buildings and our denominations our house of worship. We have forgotten the temple is us, and the work of Jesus starts in our hearts. Like the Pharisees we have become more consumed with what goes into a man, and turned a blind eye to what comes out. We’re ok with leaders who speak hatred, because they give us better employment rates. We’re ok with leaders who don’t emulate the love of Jesus, because that only matters when we need His love to apply to us. We want the favor of God. We even say we want our country built on that same God in which we trust, yet we close that country’s doors to anyone we deem unworthy of entry. We shout for threat of someone taking our religious freedom, yet we spit in the face of Christianity when we treat our fellow man with hatred, inequality, bigotry, and rage. It’s as if religion has become our God, not the actual Savior who redeemed us.

Gosh, there are so many examples of current policy that somehow go against the teachings of Jesus, and while I feel like it’s as plain as the nose on my face, for others the veil of deception is heavy. If we hold the title of Christian then we are good. If our leaders hold the title of Christian, we/they are good. We can check that box on our ticket to Heaven, yet God is asking more of us. We can no longer be the church just in name. God is calling us to be the church in our actions. He is calling us to follow the beat of His heart, not the beat of our own drum. If our politics are beating out of sync with the lubdub of His love, then I believe we are entering a season where He is calling us to a new way.

What if the things we have always known, the sides we have always taken, and the direction we have always stepped needs a revamp. Instead of going to the left, or going to the right, the Lord is saying, “come this way. Follow me.” That is what we have forgotten. How to follow the way of Jesus. It’s right there in red print, but we miss it all the time. Instead of doing things the way we’ve always done, we listen for His heartbeat for our steps. We follow His directions, His example, and we stop supporting anything that doesn’t measure up to that.

I think one hindrance to following the Jesus beat is that it requires us to admit we’ve been doing things wrong. It requires us to humbly confess our wrongdoing and mistakes. It often means doing an about-face and taking another way. It means letting go of our pride in favor of His truth, truth that’s not always easy to swallow because it’s so different from what the world feeds us. But guys, the systems of this world are broken. We can’t keep expecting them to work. It’s time to develop new systems, systems built on Jesus, His heart, His way, His truth.

The systems of this world are like a stain that clings to our Spirit. This is why the enemy can so easily deceive those of us under the spell of our beloved worldly systems. But I believe we are in a rainy season. I believe storms have been building, brewing, and the Heavens are going to pour forth a cleansing rain. Eyes are opening, ears are hearing, and hearts are breaking for truth. Gifts are being poured out on God’s people, and He is calling forth those who follow Him to speak what He is saying. He is calling us to be the new church, one body that doesn’t try to go in opposite directions, but that stays centered on the heartbeat of His love and grace.

Are you tired of the way the world has been going? Me too. I believe God is saying it’s time for things to change. It’s time to do things differently. I don’t know all the answers of how this will work, but I believe as we listen to His heartbeat for people we will gain wisdom for next steps. I’m not naive. I understand the country is run on more than love, but I do strongly believe that should remain the foundation and the filter through which we make our decisions. Join me in prayer as I pray for rain, as I pray for our Nation to get the feeling of His heart, and that we may begin to walk in step, as one, in Spirit and truth, towards the future the Lord has for His church.

As I finished up this post, my husband called me outside to see the large rainbow that covered us. It was God’s covenant, not to destroy us, His promise for our future. If ever there has been a time we need that promise, I believe it is now. But first comes the rain.

The Tide is Coming In

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The Lord has been speaking the same message to me since the beginning of July, adding a bit more to it each day.

Initially I saw a huge mountain. Next I saw waves crashing into its base. They were large, violent waves, and I realized they were eroding pieces of the mountain away bit by bit.

I thought of the verse about faith, how with it we could ask a mountain to jump into the sea, and I heard the Lord say, “sometimes I move mountains little by little.”

The second day I saw just the waves, churning, building momentum, getting larger. I knew they were working their way towards something huge.

I asked the Lord, “what do the waves represent?”

“My Spirit,” He answered.

I asked the Lord, “what about the mountain?”

“The mountain,” He answered, “is the spirit of deception.”

“Well, then, where are we?” I asked.

He replied, “under the mountain.”

I keep coming back to this same word. I guess because I’ve been so busy at work, that I didn’t have time to put it down on paper, and God wanted to make sure I didn’t let this one pass by. I prayed in the Spirit again this morning, for the world at large, and I understood as I prayed that mountains are made out of hard rock. It takes time and repeated hits of the breakers to take down what religion has built.

I prayed that as the rocks of deception fell away into the sea, that God’s people could stand firm on the shore. I understood that many would be washed away with the tide because their system of belief was on the mountain of deception rather than the Spirit of Truth that had arrived to disassemble things/lies that had been too long standing.

I still believe God is moving in this season. I believe the tide is coming in. The Truth of God is tearing away deception. The thing about deception, this trickery of Satan, is that it looks good from the outside. It appears strong, colossal, favored even. It appears to tower over the land, standing tall and firm, but I think that the Spirit of Truth has been chipping away (slowly to our earthly minds) at this false idol. And I believe now that the waves are building, the tide is rising, and the true power of God is breaking down what is left.

The only question is where we will stand as believers? Will we cling to the traditions of the mountain, that so easily crumbles, or will we stand firm on the shore, as the Holy Spirit washes over us? I believe the Spirit will wash away deception and leave us standing, but only if that’s what we desire. Some will wash away into the sea, clinging to their piece of rock, never even understanding its pulling them under, until it’s too late and they drown.

The Second Prodigal Son

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We all love the parable of the Prodigal Son, and if you’re like me you’ve seen yourself mirrored in his runaway actions. We take joy at the Father who loves us, despite our sin, and the gratitude for being lost, but then found brings us joy. Who hasn’t sung the words to Amazing Grace and thanked the Lord for once being lost, but finally being found? We see ourselves in this Lost, Prodigal Son, but we rejoice that we now have eyes to see! But my question today is, do we truly see? Do we really? Or are we as lost as the second, prodigal son?

It’s easy to remember the son who strayed in the story, the one who was seeped in sin, but came back begging for his Father’s forgiveness. What we disregard is the second son, who (in regards to) at the end of the parable we’re left open-ended. Did he see what the Father was trying to impart?

In the familiar parable, if you’ll remember, the Father rejoices over his lost son’s return. He gathers for him a ring, the finest of robes, and prepares a wonderful feast. What we might forget is the second son, the brother of the lost, who in is own actions is just as wayward. As we read this parable we see Jesus introducing us to another prodigal, one who we cannot know if he was ever found.

The second son stands outside the banquet feast, sweltering in his anger. When speaking with his father he admits his rage and envy.

Luke 15: 28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

Upon reading these verses I wondered what Jesus might have been trying to convey, what warning He could offer to us today. I realized that although I had always seen myself as the first son, I had to be careful not to become the second prodigal. The second prodigal was like the church. He was the child who knew his father, and he resided in his home. He wasn’t lost, per se, yet I think he was blind. Even though he lived among his Father, he was blind to his father’s heart. He was blinded by his own pride and selfishness. Do we as believers fall into this trap?

When the lost come to the Father’s house, are we quick to say, “but Dad, look at the way they have sinned against you!”

Do we try and usurp the celebration with our own eyes of judgement? When the Father says love, do we say, “but, Dad?!”

Do we rush out in compassion and open arms like our Father, or do we stand outside arguing why there’s cause for celebration?

Jesus gives us three parables in Luke 15, once again overstating his point, knowing we needed such. He tries to impress the importance of “the one.” The one who is lost, the one who is hurting, the one who needs compassion and a welcoming embrace. Yet, do we, as the second prodigal, get lost on where His heart stands in this matter? Do we instead look at the one as oneself? In other words, do we make everything all about us?

I matter. I didn’t do anything wrong. My sin isn’t as big as his. What about my feelings, my rights, and my opinion on the matter? We miss the Father’s cause for celebration. We miss the Father’s desire to pluck his one son from the pig pen and bring him to the table. We miss our brother is hungry and in rags for clothing. Instead we ask, “what about my goat, or my royal robe?!”

Luke 15: 31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

And that’s the end of it. The final line of the parable. I’m left wondering, did he see his Father’s heart? Did he ever understand why he was just as lost, and just as much of a sinner by begrudging his brother? Will we ever understand the same?

The Father’s heart is pure. He doesn’t say to his son, “how dare you squander my wealth? What makes you think you can come home now?!”

And do you see what he says to the second son?

“All you have is mine.”

As believers, we shouldn’t act as nonbelievers. To think another brother is taking what belongs to us, that is putting a limit on the Father’s infinite riches, and this should not be so. We are lost when we worry our brother is taking what belongs to us. The truth is our Father gives us what we need. We are lost when we point out the sin of our brother. Our Father doesn’t pinpoint ours, but offers forgiveness for all. Remember, Jesus did not come to judge the lost, but to save them. We mustn’t take up the gavel. We are lost when we cannot see the Father’s heart for our brother. The only question is, will we stay lost, fuming outside the banquet, or will we heed the words of our Father and join the celebration?

All our Father has is ours. We shouldn’t fear what might be taken. Our Father’s heart is one of forgiveness, compassion, and love. How can we view our brothers and sisters with anything less?

There was a second Prodigal Son that day, and my hope for humanity would be that he would listen to the voice of his Father, seeing that He gives us all more than enough. The parable leaves us wondering, but my hope is that we the church will write the ending. My hope is that we will join with our brothers and sisters at the Father’s table, not looking at what our brother (who was hurting) has been given, but looking at what we (in our own good gifts) may give back.

The Devil Will Use Christians to Discourage You

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This morning as I prayed in the Spirit I felt like my prayers were ones of warfare. I’m certain many people would agree that below the surface of the differing opinions on social media or the civil unrest around us, in the places we cannot see, a battle rages for our hearts and minds. It’s a spiritual battle, and as the enemy tries to wreak havoc, sending his demonic forces to whisper discouragement and deception, the prayers of God’s saints strengthen the angel armies who surround His children with protection. The thing is, Satan is pretty good at what he does. I mean, he’s not called the Great Deceiver for nothing! He knows exactly where to plant his troops, but he’s not inserting his soldiers where you might think.

No, it’s not on the streets or in the gutters where he plants the enemy’s whisper. It’s not in the strip clubs, bars, or prisons where you would see the greatest battle for good, if you could see in the spiritual realm. My husband is fond of saying, “if you’re looking for the devil, don’t try the home of sinners. Look in the church instead.”

That’s a hard pill for a lot of people to swallow, but the truth usually is. You see, if someone is a slave to sin already, the powers of darkness don’t have to work as hard to keep them down. But believers? Now those are the devil’s favorite people to blind and fool.

I can remember a couple of years ago deciding to unfriend a very pious, self-proclaimed “prophet for the Lord,” Facebook friend of mine. I had known her for over twenty years, and in fact, the first time we had met, in church, with me as a brand new believer, she had introduced herself not by name, but with a comment about how something I was wearing was “demonic.” Talk about speechless. I remember not knowing what to say back then. Did I leave? Did I say I’m sorry, I had no idea. In the end, thankfully, I let the hurt leave my mind as quickly as it entered. Instead I learned why my earrings could be seen as occult, and why as a believer I should stray from such things. I let her abrupt manner not harm me, but this first interaction wouldn’t be our last.

When I finally decided to separate myself from this woman who had done nothing but discourage me every time I interacted with her, I wondered if she even knew the devil used her to crush the spirit of fellow believers. I considered the many times she argued with me as I tried to learn more about scripture, or the way she answered me condescendingly when I sought wisdom from others in the church. I remembered all the other times I had seen her attack multiple Christians (without provocation) for their feelings or beliefs, in a public manner, like she was the judge and jury for Jesus Himself. It grieved my heart to think of the people trying to find the love of Christ, but encountering her hard judgment, callous behavior, and obvious disdain for those she considered less learned than herself. I couldn’t imagine how many people she might have pushed away from His throne, so she could throw herself there in unrealized hypocrisy.

Yeah, I know, my words sound pretty harsh, but after so many years of watching people leave Christianity because of other believers in Christ, I am feeling pretty harsh. I’m angry. I’m mad that my brothers and sisters allow themselves to be used by the enemy to keep others from seeing Jesus. It’s the greatest tragedy of our time.

Back to my early Christianity, I can recall so many instances where members of the church unintentionally (or perhaps intentionally) discouraged me. I can recall a year into my walk with Christ having the desire and call to become a missionary. I was on fire, y’all! I wanted to share the Good News that had saved me. I did all the leg work, and was over halfway through the fundraising for my discipleship training when I decided to beseech my home congregation to help me financially. Look, I never would expect someone to give where the Lord isn’t leading, but this incident hurt me deeply.

I sought the help of the small, Southern Church I had attended for twelve years of my life, a church devoid of the Holy Spirit in many ways. For although I had attended this church since the age of eight, I sadly didn’t understand a relationship with Jesus until I found it in another congregation. But still I had stayed loyal to my parent’s church, attending there on Sunday, and then going to the congregation where I discovered the realness of God and how much He loved me on Sunday nights. I hope this isn’t confusing.

It was the dead, Sunday-morning building I decided to ask for help. The one that had seen me grow up and even dunked in their baptismal. Not that they had explained at the time what baptism was supposed to mean. Although my Spirit-thriving, Sunday-night church of Jesus lovers had already contributed to my missions without being asked, I found it necessary to attend a business meeting to submit my request for an offering, approved by the deacons and an elder vote, to see if I could get assistance from the church that held my “membership letter.” What is that anyway?

To make a long story short, they voted not to help me financially, giving the reason “if we fund your mission work, we’ll have to fund the mission work of anyone else in the congregation who asks. We can’t afford to help everybody.”

As an on-fire, new (true) believer in Jesus, their behavior hurt me, but it didn’t put out my fire. Of note, that particular story is just one of many.

I could tell numerous stories of discouragement and judgement I’ve seen through the years. Times where I tried to fit into the “Christian kids” clique, but my parents didn’t make enough money, or my family didn’t have a good enough reputation to make the cut. I can tell you times I was discriminated against as a young woman by Christian adults for the clothes I wore or the tattoo my mom had let me get at seventeen. I can remember being removed from a drama stage or barred from a team for these things that should have caused these more seasoned believers to take me under their wing and mentor me instead of publicly humiliating me. I can remember when I had a problem with alcohol being condemned rather than encouraged that the Lord could help me break the cycle of alcoholism in my family. Welcome to life in the Bible Belt.

With all the discouragement I received from believers, it’s amazing that I remained one. I wasn’t taught from birth the love of the Lord like I’m teaching my children. I didn’t have that stable foundation to keep me grounded when temptation came my way, or worse, when the devil used fellow followers of God to try and break me. It is only by the grace of God, the forgiveness of Jesus, the love of the Holy Spirit, and the guidance from true Christians, in word and deed, that kept me from leaving the church forever. It shouldn’t be this way.

The thing is, the lady I mentioned finally unfriending, she was the member of a really wonderful church of believers. See, you can find a really great barrel of apples, but there’s always that one rotten one that will try and ruin the whole thing for you. Don’t let them!

The devil and his minions are in the church, y’all, and I’m sure if you’ve seen the posts of some of your friends on social media lately, you’ve seen some not very loving behavior. He wreaks havoc, causes division, and cultivates pride. He whispers offense, steals peace, and replaces it with rage. He loosens tongues to speak words that are better left unsaid, and he manipulates the truth worse than even your most deplorable politician. Why are we falling for it, time and time again?

In times of attack from enemy forces, you have to pull out your weapons of warfare, starting with The Sword of the Spirit, the Word of God. It’s the thing that will cut through the lies. So, keep reading your Bible, my friends.

If you’re finding yourself discouraged, I would encourage you to apply the helmet of salvation. If you have been saved by the blood of Jesus, they can try to beat you over the head with the parts of the Bible they choose, but they will not break through your armor. Jesus has set you free from the yoke of sin, and don’t let anyone make you feel like a failure.

If you’re like me, and you find your heart broken by all this hypocrisy, put on the breastplate of righteousness. We are in this world, but not of this world. His righteousness guards our hearts.

Use your shield of faith to stop the enemy’s arrows. Your heritage as a child of the king is the only thing that makes you who you are. You are precious in His sight, and this is the truth that will keep you by His side when the enemy attacks. Sadly, many times he attacks through God’s people. I wish it wasn’t so.

My best advice is to find your people. There are congregations and believers who walk in Spirit and truth, who care more about your adoption into the family of God than who your earthly family is. Find your family of true believers who don’t care so much about the outfit you wear, but more about the fact that Jesus has given us all garments of white. Find your Godly mentor, that spiritual parent, who will speak truth and life, and teach you, not diminish you. I promise these people exist. Don’t allow the loud, hateful voices to drown out the true ones.

We (the Church) Have to Do Better

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Not long ago I had a coworker say to me, “if more people were like you, Brie, I might still go to church.”

Sharing this comment is in no way a tooting of my own horn. I am certainly God’s continuous work in progress, as I’m fond of saying, but what my friend said does lend credit to a problem I’m seeing more and more. It seems like Christians are killing the church. Or rather, religion is thwarting relationship. Either way, it’s a travesty.

Nothing has brought this more to the forefront of my mind than recent events in society. I’ve discovered a whole lot of people who can quote scripture, but not near as many who actually live out scripture. In other words, people can recite, “the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, and the second to love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:37-39), yet when it comes to walking out this love, we lack.

I have been utterly heartbroken for weeks now, but not about the things you might think. Yes, the violence is devastating and the injustice catastrophic, but it wasn’t the police brutality that broke me. It wasn’t the looting and rioting that made me mad. In the end, the absolute worst thing I’ve seen come out of society after the murder of George Floyd was the response from a large majority of the Christian community.

Even now, as some people read these words, their quills will rise and the claws will come out. They will buck up defensively and begin justifying their behavior without even trying to absorb the rest of my thoughts. It makes me think of my nine year old when I try to lovingly correct her to teach her something I’ve learned the hard way, through trial and effort. She typically gets mad, sullen, and pouts that I would dare say such a meany thing. But she’s nine. I think one of the biggest marks of personal growth is the ability to accept correction, check your heart, and move forward in change as necessary. Sadly, that is also lacking.

Individuals who claim to be children of God have shared some of the cruelest, insensitive posts on social media that I have ever seen. It. Blows. My. Mind. They try to justify their ugliness by saying, “this society has become one that gets offended by everything,” but I don’t think that’s it. I think we are a growing society that realizes change is necessary, that kindness is a good quality, that human worth isn’t based on our opinion. So, you can call it being offended if that helps you sleep at night. I call it being a decent human being. We should all try it sometime.

Somewhere along the way the church has backtracked to pre-Jesus time. The Pharisees are still here, is what I’m saying; they just disguise themselves as followers of Jesus. But to follow Jesus, you have to follow His example. Somehow we missed that part.

We’ve fallen back on the law, forgetting about grace. We’ve appointed ourselves as judges, but the craziest part of that is only some sins are an offense to the law of man. For example, in the court of the church, not all sins are equal. The sins you can keep hidden are okay. Don’t steal, unless it’s cheating on your taxes. After all, the government is run by left leaning liberals who just want to give money to people who don’t want to work! See how we can justify our sins?

You can get a divorce if you don’t love your spouse anymore. You can commit adultery, sexually harass your secretary, or get slobbering drunk each night, but don’t dare enter a homosexual relationship. I know, you’ll argue that you don’t hold one sin higher than the other, but is that really true? Do you post memes about adultery and drunkenness ruining our country? Do you make fun of, whisper about, or treat the divorcee different when they try to walk up and talk to you? Do you bar them from your congregation? Do you ignore the envy in your own heart or carry a haughty spirit with a smile? Why is it that we as a Christian society get to decide what sins get us really worked up, but others we can just give a pass on?

I will pause to say a few things here, because I have to for some folks before they bring it up first. One, I follow the Bible for what is and what isn’t approving in God’s eyes. No denying scripture, ok? This isn’t about defining sin; it’s about rating sin. In this instance I’m referring to the fact that some churches, areas of the country, or groups of Christians feel it’s their responsibility to place sin on a scale of one to ten. I don’t think that’s necessary, and it’s certainly not impacting the world in a positive way.

Two, I am using the term “church” in this post, and I don’t want that to be taken in a derogatory sense. It’s like I tell my children, “if I’m not talking about you, then it’s not about you.” Read that again, please. In other words, I love the church in a sense of believers gathering to help one another grow and mature in Christ. I personally love my church. I do not approve of the “church” when it tries to take the role of God, and in essence pushes people away from the Lord.

Three, I have to say this now because I am about to go into the subject. I am pro-life. This is a big deal to me. Huge. I find sanctity of life hugely important. It’s top priority. My problem comes with other people who oppose abortion like me, but treat other human beings like they are not worthy of life. All human interaction should be about sanctity of life, but for some reason, it’s not.

Hey, I’ve been guilty. I have based my political vote on the issue of abortion, letting that stance sway my vote, but I can see now that life as a Christian isn’t that easy. I thought with an issue like abortion, the choice is black or white (something I still believe), but if I’m using that one gauge to test my candidate, I’m missing the fact that he/she may not value the life of minorities, immigrants, or women. That makes sanctity of life a gray issue, sadly, and we have to ask ourselves what Jesus would do. I’ve heard people say that a politician doesn’t have to be a good person, but just good at their role. I think of my nursing job. If I was rude and did not have compassion for my patients, but I had great clinical skills, would folks still say I was a good nurse?

Another consideration, you will never change anyone’s heart by pointing out their sin when you first meet. In other words, unless you’ve developed a relationship with someone, you cannot get them to see what you think you can so clearly see. In scripture Jesus didn’t go up to prostitutes and tell them to quit being a ho. He sat down to dinner with them. I hear a lot the reciting of the part of the verse where Jesus says to the adulterous woman, “go and sin no more.” People use this as an excuse for their behavior when calling out the sins of strangers, as if the stranger’s sin is worse than their own. You know, because they miss the whole beginning part of the verse about needing to be sinless before you throw a stone. But let’s just let that part go for the benefit of the doubt. Let’s say it’s ok for the sinful to throw stones at the more sinful. Looking back at Jesus, He didn’t just walk up to someone on Facebook and say, “don’t sin anymore.” Y’all, He had just saved her life. He stood up for her, putting His own reputation and life at risk. He formed a relationship with her in these actions, and that’s why she listened when He encouraged her to leave her life of sin.

Followers of Jesus, back in His day, changed their life because of their love for Him. He didn’t demand it of them. He didn’t try to scare or guilt them into it. He loved them into it. He was honest, but loving. And that’s mostly the way life should work now. The hypocritical, religious will try and beat sinners with their Bibles. As a sinner, I know. In my past, sinful life of drunkenness and promiscuity, I had some horrible things said to me by so-called Christians. It is only the immense love of God that drew me in despite their behavior. I look at how we’ve treated the black community, founding our country on laws that made it okay to treat them less, and I know it was the Lord’s great love that called them into His arms. Certainly not the example of early, White Christianity.

In times when people are hurting, the church should be the first to say, “I’m sorry this hurts you. What can I do?”

Instead we’re too busy grumbling about pancake syrup.

In times when people are a slave to sin, the church should be the one asking them over for dinner, not throwing bricks. Yes, bricks, not small stones.

What we shouldn’t be doing is justifying bad behavior. We shouldn’t be saying things like, “you won’t be discriminated against if you can just be like me.”

We can’t make excuses for why someone was murdered. We can’t act like we know what the walk is like in someone else’s shoes. We shouldn’t take personal offense at another human being demanding they be treated as a human being. We should humble ourselves to try and see the point of view of another, rather than simply digging stubborn heels into the ground.

We shouldn’t make a mockery of another’s pain. Even what you consider the funniest joke, is in poor taste when it hurts another. We shouldn’t be placing blame on political parties or media manipulation (even though I do believe those exist) as a reason to gloss over certain sins, like racism. Diverting blame doesn’t erase injustice. Not talking about something doesn’t make it go away. That’s why a whole generation of children who were sexually abused by the “church” (I use that term loosely) are still trying to put together the pieces. But that’s a blog for another day.

Do you know why my coworker said what she did? She has witnessed hypocrisy. Religious people calling out other’s sawdust of sin before addressing their own plank. She’s seen the cruel hatred and bigotry, and this comment was before 2020 had even begun. Sadly, the Christian church has a long history of murdering and silencing people in the name of Jesus. I can’t imagine the pain He must have over what we have done, but even more so, what we continue to do.

Jesus gave us in great detail the instructions for carrying on His church, a church much different from the religious sect that preceded it. The problem is, although hard to belief, a large part of the church doesn’t read the instruction manual. I mean, they go to a church building on Sunday, but they have no clue that the church should also reside in them. They go by how they’ve been raised, or what they’ve always been taught, yet they’re resistant to allow the Holy Spirit to speak His truth. In fact, I think they’ve forgotten about the Holy Spirit all together.

In this life, as a Christian, we must walk in Spirit and in truth. The truth is found in His Word, the Bible, and you obtain His truth by reading, studying, and meditating on scripture. His Holy Spirit will speak if we confess our own sins and ask for His clarity and wisdom. There’s nothing wrong with asking the Lord to shed light on a situation for you. He can speak to us all. In John 16 Jesus told us “when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you into all the truth.” Y’all, it’s time we let him guide us into all the truth.

I believe there is a terrible Spirit of Religion that oppresses a large portion of the Christian church, and it is binding us from loving our neighbor as Christ instructed. It tells us to condemn the sinner, not the sin. It places self worth or a person’s identity on the sin we may see, rather than the fact that even sinners are children of God, and in fact, we are all sinners, the whole lot. It’s not our job to cast stones or pass judgement, but it is our job to show the lost Jesus in us. It’s not our job to treat others less, but it is our job to treat them as we would wish to be treated. It isn’t our job to search for sin in others, but it is our job to confess our own. It is our duty to bear the fruit of the Spirit ( love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control), something that has all but disappeared on many “Christian’s” Facebook timelines.

Do the words you speak bring life? Are you taking offense at every turn? Are you seeing life with a Kingdom mindset? Ask, how does this have an impact on eternity? How do my actions have an impact on the eternity of others? Ouch. Are your actions leading people to Jesus, or are they just showing them your opinion (that really only matters this side of eternity)? Do you desire to see those who disagree with you in Heaven, or do you just want to prove that you’re right? When did we get the idea it’s up to us to fix folks, rather than setting the example and letting God do the hard, heart changes?

Matthew 5: 38-48 You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you. You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

I know that’s asking a lot of us, but no one every said this walk would be easy. I included the above verses because although all humanity should follow this example, they do not. But if you claim the title of Christian, then it is your duty to follow it. We cannot focus on what others do or don’t do, but we can focus on our own actions.

I don’t have life all figured out and I fail daily, but I do have a heart that desires to be like Jesus. I do desire to follow His example. My point in writing this post isn’t to condemn fellow believers in Jesus, but to submit to you that we all can follow Him better than we do. We can all fish for men rather than pushing them away from the boat. Christianity comes with a lofty heritage (since we like that word so much), and we should strive to live up to the name and example of Christ. I’m willing to work on it, and I pray you will be too.

How to Respond When People Disagree With You on Facebook

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This morning as I walked to our van I felt a strong desire to worship and praise the Lord. So as I drove down the road I began to praise God for all the many wonderful things He was in my life. I started praying in the spirit, and as I prayed I had a vision of a large, concrete wall. It was as tall as the Hoover Dam, and I knew this represented the enormous divide that separated this country right now. I continued to pray, and as I did a huge explosion occurred breaking apart the gigantic barrier at its base.

I knew in my heart that it was the combined prayers of believers that caused the wall to crumble, and I realized this was what we needed. Believers in Christ needed to come together in truth and the power of Jesus to destroy strongholds of the enemy.

I felt my own conviction, understanding that petty (in a kingdom sense) disagreement was the work of the enemy, and he used this distraction to prevent saints from combining their prayers to move the mountains of sin in this country. As long as Satan could keep our eyes on ourselves and our desire to be right, he could keep our eyes off what God was doing. I understood then that I didn’t need to be right. I had nothing to prove, and I couldn’t change minds likely anyway. Only God could change hearts. It didn’t matter if I was right or wrong when it came right down to it, because I served an all-knowing God. His will would be done, and His purposes would reach completion.

As I continued to pray I understood that the detonating force behind the explosion of the dividing wall was worship. Worship was faith in action. Worship said nothing mattered but God in control. To worship amidst confusion was to say, “I know my God will bring truth and victory in the end.”

Satan would have us to argue. His enemy army would whisper offense into our hearts, and his demons would stoke the fires of rage. In our uncontrollable anger we missed the fact that we were powerless in our arguments, and the only thing it really did was add more bricks to the wall.

Understand, that’s not to say speaking up for injustice and speaking truth is pointless and without merit. Jesus would always have us speak up for truth. Speaking truth can open eyes, ears, and hearts. That is what we’re seeing right this moment. No, what I’m talking about is the hardened hearts that wear a blindfold, with heels dug in deep. No amount of well-written or eloquently spoken words can change every mind. In this case we worship. We worship the God who can, and our collective worship has the power to tear down walls, to build bridges, and to shine light in the darkest places.

I think we all need work on this. We need to ask ourselves, do I continue to argue or do I simply worship? Do I continue to be angry, or do I lay it down to praise a God who can do all things?

The past couple of days I’ve found that after only a few minutes on social media I see something that wants to make me angry. It can be overwhelming, depressing, and totally frustrating. In those moments I have remained silent, closed my app, and opened my Bible. Only the Sword of the Spirit, the Word of God can give clarity amidst so much confusion. In times of so much noise, we require the whisper of His Spirit to quiet our spinning minds and hurting hearts. In place of angry disputes that have no end, we need the act of worship to break down the strongholds we cannot even see. It’s not flesh and blood we fight, but principalities and powers of darkness. To worship is to walk in faith for the one who wins over all evil.

So, I will choose to worship. Will you?

You’ve Heard the Thunder. Now Watch For the Lightning.

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This morning a summer storm came quickly to our neighborhood, and as I looked out the large, living room window at the dark clouds in the distance, a bolt of lightning touched down.

“Look girls,” I said to my young daughters. “Lightning!”

It was magnificent to me, and I continued to explain to my girls, “do you hear the thunder? Just wait a few beats, then you’ll see the lightning.”

As I said those words I felt the Spirit of God strongly. I’ve discovered over the years that when the Lord brings something to my mind and I speak it, He will kinda punch my spirit when He wants me to pay special attention. That’s the only way I know to describe it. All I know is my thoughts halt, and my brain and heart understand that the thought or words I may have spoken were impressed to me through the Lord.

Naturally, I asked God, “ok, Lord. What are you trying to tell me through this thunder and lightning out there?”

You have heard the thunder.

In a storm, like the one we watched this morning, thunder and lightning happen at approximately the same time, but as many of you know, lightning travels faster than thunder (even though it is moving at supersonic speeds) and thus we see the flash before we hear the thunder. The thing is, my daughters had previously missed the lightning, the display of His glory, yet they had been unable to miss the roar of His thunder. It had cried out for their attention, and now they only had to look away from the distraction of their tablets to see the magnificent light.

Thunder roars, and although God most often speaks through a whisper, desiring hearts that press in close and listen, sometimes He speaks in a roar. This world we are living in has always been noisy and distracting, but it seems to me that God had decided to use His Big Poppa voice to get our attention. We have not been listening, as a whole, so this year I think He decided to pull out all the stops and speak with the kind of authority even the deaf can hear.

He has roared with an unprecedented crash, as pandemic reared its ugly head. He has allowed sickness to shake the atmosphere, and in His mercy brought healing too.

He has roared the difficulty of the ensuing social isolation and financial loss, yet shown His grace through the silver linings of time together with family, the generosity of others, the giving spirit of mankind, the power of prayer when Saints unite.

I have seen His gifts emerge in me, and the roar of His Spirit speaking to my heart, even as the world seemed to fall apart around me at the seams.

We have seen the roar of an angry God, who seeks justice for all His children. We’ve seen the evil of the enemy using mankind to bring death, and we’ve seen our God manage to use it for good. We’ve seen Him bring out the roar in His children, bringing courage, conviction, clarity, and a determination to stand for what is right.

He has roared that enough is enough, and He has heard the cries of the afflicted.

You have heard the thunder. Now watch for the lightning.

The lighting will always accompany the thunder. The lightning is the power. It is the electrifying force that can bring fire to a dead, dry tree, but I think in this instance it wants to bring fire to dry bones. Arise, dry bones, and come to life!

I continued to think about this force. How do we prepare for lightning? Well, we usually take shelter, and I think the Lord is calling us like never before to find our purpose and meaning in the shelter of His wings. There, even when the enemy comes against us, we will be saved.

Then I thought of Benjamin Franklin. Do you remember in elementary school seeing the image of Benjamin Franklin flying a kite in a lightning storm? People probably thought he was crazy, but he understood that he needed to utilize the power above him. He knew he needed to harness that power, and in doing so, he could bring light to the darkness. In all reality, Ben Franklin didn’t invent electricity with his actions, but he did demonstrate the connection between lightning and electricity. I think we as a people need a reminder that the power above is what truly brings us light, no matter what your power bill may say.

The point is, we must be prepared to hold up our lightning rods, to direct the power of God towards the earth, and bring some much-needed illumination. We find ourselves in the middle of a storm in this country right now, but it is up to us how we will proceed. We have heard the roar of thunder, but now will we have eyes to see the lightning?

How can God use you? Right here, right now, in the middle of the torrential downpour in this country? Will you stand for truth, justice, and the heart of God? Will you raise your hands in surrender, saying, “God, I haven’t always gotten everything right, but I’m ready to be used by you!”

As believers in Jesus, we are a house on a hill, and our light can no longer be hidden in the safety of our storm cellars. We have to rise and watch for the lightning. We must open our eyes to His power and Spirit, and be ready to conduct that to everyone we encounter.

The Word says that by their fruit you will know them, and the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I think many of us, myself included, if we took an inventory of our actions, would see that our fruit has been lacking.

I don’t think it’s too late, though. I think that the Lord has sent His thunder to grab our attention. It’s been distracted by the world for far too long. We have all heard the thunder this year, but now it is up to us to watch for His lightning. He is sending His power to those who ask, and He is ready to use that power to impact the world in a positive way. Will we be beacons of the light He gives, or will we hide it under a basket?

In the end, the choice is ours. Who will we serve in the storms of life? A time is coming to choose darkness or light, and thankfully the Lord is calling to us with a roar. Don’t ignore the call.

Something I Learned When My Daughter Got Sick

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I am naive when it comes to dealing with sick children. Sure, I’m a nurse, but I haven’t dealt with pediatrics since a Nursing Clinical in 2002. Yet even if I was used to working with sick kids, I don’t think it would have had any bearing on this issue, because the sick kid ended up being my own.

It’s easier not to worry about the worse case scenario when the child belongs to someone else, but when they’re your child, it changes everything. I’m thankful Jesus took the wheel for me yesterday when my nine year old began having an unexpected seizure. That’s the only explanation I have for not totally freaking out. I mean, they tell me at work that I’m totally calm in the face of chaos and everyone loves my extra chill demeanor when crap goes down, but this was totally different. It was different because the patient was my baby. My children have never been sick, hospitalized, or on any kind of medicine other than a week long antibiotic, so this was new for me.

I realize that the Lord often utilizes trying situations to draw people closer to Him. I mean, I’ve seen it time and time again, when calamity strikes, folks hit their knees. When tragedy falls, people finally look up. In the face of an uncontrollable situation, that is when God’s children usually cry out in earnest petition and pleading prayer. Even in my own past, I can think of a terrible situation leading me back to Jesus. I had fallen away from listening to the Lord, and it wasn’t until I was faced with an unexpected divorce that I cried out in surrender for His help. I had not heard His voice in my life in many years, but at that (my) lowest point I did. In retrospect, I realize I simply wasn’t listening very well until then.

This morning when I woke up in the hospital bed, cuddled up to my little girl, I found worried thoughts had returned. I had naturally experienced them the day before in the ambulance, the Emergency Room, and later hospital room as we waited for answers. Yet each time worries came, I was able to combat them with truth. This morning I wondered about why they had not done a scan of her head. My medical mind told me it was because the chance of it being anything other than a genetic cause was slim, and that made a CT not necessary. But my human heart worried for things like tumors or the dreaded ‘C’ word which I had to push from my mind.

As I sat up drinking coffee and thinking in the quiet, dim hospital room, I realized I was grateful for that auto pilot I had mentioned earlier. My husband and I agreed we had both been moved through the day before by the Spirit, and I knew it was Spirit and Truth that helped me answer the hard questions with wisdom that my young, confused daughter asked of me.

I had several times in my stress yesterday where I wanted to pull out my Bible and read God’s Word. Several times where I wanted to seek His wisdom through prayer. But there was always something going on, people coming in, tests being done, my daughter needing my assistance. By the time we finally settled down for the night my eyes were seeing double, and even though I cracked my Bible open to Zechariah and then John, I could barely focus on the words.

This morning I was grateful that I didn’t wait until personal illness struck my family to seek Him. It’s hard to seek Jesus in the middle of a storm. But for me, I found that I could feel Him in the midst of the tumultuous waves and thundering roar. The fiery trial attempted to consume me when I watched my baby convulse, and later when I tried to help console her steady tears. Yet I could see Jesus in the fire with me, just like the people who looked down in the fiery furnace where three Hebrew men were tossed saw Him.

When she asked me tough questions, God spoke wisdom and truth to me through His Word that popped up in my mind. When I felt worried, His Spirit soothed me. When I wanted to be angry (and say things I’d regret) for hospital policy that said my husband couldn’t be in the room with us, the Fruit of the Spirit prevailed. When my emotions were more than I could handle, His comfort covered me like a blanket. Faith prevailed, fear was abolished, and I saw my daughter also miraculously change from being scared to pieces to speaking the most mature knowledge and spirit-led prayers. We didn’t have to seek Him for truth, comfort, and wisdom in the midst of our situation. We simply walked in what we already knew and held in our hearts, and I can’t explain how much of a blessing it was to have this occur!

I would encourage anyone reading this post right now to understand that you don’t need to wait until a struggle occurs to ask the Lord to get you through it. I think that would be really hard. Much harder than it has to be. I would encourage you to seek Him in the calm. Seek Him in the ordinary, in the seemingly perfect. Don’t wait to seek Him when things fall apart; seek Him now. I read the Bible every day, and I didn’t always do this. I was almost forty years old before I began to daily saturate myself with scripture. So, please understand I don’t come to you from some “perfect Christian” place. There’s no such thing! I simply wish to impart what I have learned.

By taking in God’s Word daily, praying continuously, and thereby investing in my relationship with Him, I was more able to deal with stress and uncertainty when it came my way. I was grateful for the scripture that flooded my thoughts. It soothed me. I was grateful for the prayers of so many saints, but I was also thankful that I didn’t feel dependent on their prayers. I knew my Father heard me. He’s used to my voice. We slipped easily into conversation when I needed His voice the most. This doesn’t happen overnight, but rather through persistent time with Him. You never know when tragedy will strike, but when it does, you will want an open, easily accessible, and comfortable line of communication with Christ. For me, I found I was at the end of myself. I could barely find the way to walk upright, much less hear the whisper of a voice if I did not know what to listen for. My gift through all of this was my connection to Jesus.

I am thankful for the hospital, the fine doctors and nurses, and modern medicine. I’m thankful for our wonderful family and friends. I’m abundantly thankful for my strong husband. But above all, I’m thankful for Jesus. He held this momma up, so I was able to hold my baby up. If I learned anything through this illness of epilepsy so far, it is how blessed I am to have someone walking through the fire with me. I depend on the presence of my wonderful spouse so much, but yesterday a fever kept him from being able to be with us. Yet even in Ben’s absence, I had a solid rock to stand on. I had a tower of refuge and strength, and that Spirit helped me help my child. I watched that same Spirit transform her mind. I am grateful that in a difficult situation, when seeking the Lord would have been hard, I did not have to look far for Him. I only had to look for Him in me.

The Gift of Giggles and Gal Time

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As I drove to work this morning the sun had yet to peek over the horizon, but a smile had already risen on my face. Despite the dark hour, sleepy brain, and still full coffee mug, I felt a joyful energy flowing through my veins. My thoughts came back to my eldest daughter’s giggle, the one that had just recently tickled my ears, and I beamed anew. I realized her sweet spirit had injected itself into my marrow, and I felt rejuvenated by the memory of her smile. What a gift!

Just to let you know, my oldest daughter, still age nine, loves to sleep. In fact, she reminds me of a teenage boy. If we didn’t make her wake she would Rip Van Winkle her life away. Even on school days, she didn’t get up until at least nine or ten, thanks to her homeschool schedule. Yet there she had sat when I opened the bathroom door. After a hot shower I had opened the door to allow the steam to exit, and sitting on the floor, waiting patiently, she smiled underneath sleepy eyes.

This wasn’t the first time my girl had woken up as I got ready, and as I hugged her tight I commented, “I hoped I’d see you.”

It had all started a couple of months ago. My big girl had heard me leaving for work, and she had woken brightly to give me a goodbye hug and kiss. Later that night, when I had returned home, she had exclaimed with conspiratorial glee, “I saw you this morning!”

It was like it had been our secret meeting, something that she as the eldest child could take part in alone, and it became apparent it was a big deal to her. So much so, that she started telling me before bed to wake her in the morning before I left. At first, I tried to let it go. I had whispered her name, and when I didn’t get an answer, gone about my way. I liked the quiet time in the mornings to reflect and pray, and surely she didn’t really want to wake up intentionally at 6:00 am!

Boy, was I wrong. I had to hear all about her disappointment. Then she took to adding to her bedtime prayers, “and let me wake up before Mom goes to work.”

Gulp.

The first morning the Lord answered her prayer, you would have thought He had caused the sun to stand still like He did for Joshua in the Old Testament. She had gushed to me at bedtime about how God had heard her. Spurred by her childlike faith she ended her prayers in the same manner, petitioning the Lord to wake her when I got up.

Well, He did. She woke up, and it seemed to make her so happy, I didn’t tell her not to. It got to where I found myself praying in the shower for God to help her wake up, and I assumed I was praying that prayer for her benefit, but this morning I started to wonder if it wasn’t also for me.

“Bark, bark, bark,” came the sound of our family dog.

She had giggled, holding a hand over her laughing mouth, and I had snickered along with her. That was the scene this morning when we had sat on the bed together before I left for the day. While I pulled on my compression socks she had shared story after story with me, like we were two gossiping girls at the back of the school bus, and the driver, aka dog, had let us know we were getting too loud. As I heard my husband grumble, “be quiet, Lizzie,” I stifled more laughter, and I exchanged amused glances with my daughter. We almost got caught!

As I later drove to work, still feeling the high of giggles and great big hugs, it hit me the absolute gift of these unexpected yet joyful meetings. I had not known I needed them, but now felt myself abundantly grateful for them. I couldn’t believe I had almost brushed off her attempts to meet with me, assuming we could always find a better and more convenient time. I had almost forgotten that one day she wouldn’t remember to pick up the phone and check in with her ole mom, much less get up hours early for daily gab sessions.

I didn’t know when might be our last morning to hug, or lay on the bed together while I played with her hair, neglecting thoughts that I needed to hurry up and get moving. I had grown to adore our morning prayers and hearing her middle-school-age thoughts on life. And I knew I better savor these precious moments while I could. I had to savor the fact that she wanted to spend time with me even more than she wanted to sleep in, and it humbled me to realize I must be pretty darn special in her book. The thought made me smile again.

Then I pondered, “is this how God feels when His children take the extra time to have a conversation with Him?”

All I know is, I’m grateful for this morning. I’m glad I took the time, that I enjoyed the time, and that I recognized that time with those you love is so very precious. Sometimes you might have to carve that much needed time out of your day, whether it’s to wake early, stay up a little late, or curtail your lunch break. I’m certainly glad my daughter felt I was worth it, and I’m blessed to see the gift that arrived this morning in the package of giggles and gal time.

We All Need It

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Nothing like a big ole dose of humility shoved in your face to choke down the ego. Sure enough, like milk squirting out of my nose, I had made a mess of myself, a reminder that I was so much of a work in progress, that it wasn’t even funny.

It had started out good enough, I suppose. I had felt myself feeling constricted by time as I drove alone to the grocery store. I always went to the grocery store solo lately. I would rush through the aisles quickly and uncomfortably, with a ripple of unintentional nervousness running below the surface. I would wear a hot covering over my face in the 92 degree, sunny weather of Florida, and I would hope for things like paper towels and toilet paper. But even though grocery shopping had changed, that wasn’t what was making me feel harried, not all of it, at least.

I looked at the clock. I had one hour. I calculated the trip there, the trip back, and guesstimated how much time I’d allow myself to sprint through the aisles. The pool opened at 2pm, and it was 1:03. I’d have to hurry.

See, this had never been a thing before, but like most things we took for granted (like breathing easily and being ok with running out of hand sanitizer), the new pool rules were just another straw on the haggard camel’s back of new regulations status post the corona virus.

Look, I’m a nurse, so I totally got it. I supported it, in fact. I had championed flattening the curve, and I still voted yes on wearing face masks in public. I understood the “why” of the way things were, but that didn’t mean I hated them any less than the next guy. I hated that I couldn’t go to the pool when I wanted. I hated that there were now set blocks, in two hour increments, complete with a maximum number of allowed people at one time. But mostly, I hated being in a hurry. I hated feeling like I needed to rush. I had spent the past few years building a slow, relaxing life, and I hated that the past few months had upset my balance. I did not feel chill.

But more than I hated the inconvenience, I hated feeling anything but peace. So, I centered myself in Jesus. I said, “Brie, you will not feel angry or rushed today.”

Then I drove slowly over the speed bumps out of my neighborhood, quite content with my amazing knack for being so cool, calm, and collected, even when things weren’t going my way. I even told myself, “so what, if you don’t get to go to the pool. It’s just one day of swimming.”

Yes, that sounded good.

So, I did my shopping, even though I couldn’t slowly peruse that amazing aisle of stuff you never knew you needed at Aldi (and that was really annoying). A lady sat parked by the rubber rain boots for $9.99, not understanding I couldn’t look at those boots too at a safe social distance, but I thought I held my chill quite fabulously.

I drove home with sweat on my face, even though I shed my face mask as soon as the sun and stale air hit me, and I looked at the clock. 2:01pm. The pool had just opened, for what I might add was the last block of the day, and I tried not to be concerned.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll just grab the girls when I get home, and we’ll go. After I put the groceries away. It won’t be full.”

Thirty minutes, or so, later I walked to the pool gate with my three daughters in tow, and I approached the “guard shack” at the gate.

The older man who had watched me approach from a sweltering journey of 50 yards away managed to look at his clipboard (and not my eyes) while he commented, “sorry, I only got room for one.”

I watched the jolly group of nineteen tan bodies bobbing in the cool, crisp, chlorinated water, and I said with as much joyful inflection as I could muster, “sorry, girls, we can’t go swimming. There’s no room for us.”

The grumbles began as we made the trek back to the already hot truck interior, and my eldest stomped ahead of us all with passionate disdain.

Suddenly, surprising even myself, I directed this comment to my angry middle schooler, “you know, this sucks for me too! I wanted to relax before I go to work tomorrow and wear a mask I can’t breathe in all day, but nope, not happening!”

I could have stopped there, but I didn’t. I’d like to say my raging rant didn’t continue after the truck doors closed, but that just wouldn’t be true. I’d like to forget that my raised voice, directed at the powers that be, made my four year old burst into tears, like I had projected them towards her, but I can’t seem to sweep it under the rug that easily. You could cut the tension with a knife as my nine year old messaged her neighborhood friend who planned on meeting us there, and I decided I was ready to cry right about the time the tears fell down my face.

“I have no right to be anyone’s parent,” I confessed to my husband at home, detailing the uncontrollable fit I had thrown in the vehicle. “How can I tell the girls not to overreact when I can’t even control my own self?!”

Want to hear the worst part? The message from my daughter to her friend read, “my mom is mad. I think it’s my fault cause I got mad.”

Insert knife in heart.

I read the message to my spouse, ready to burst into new tears. Bless his heart, my husband knew my hormones at the time weren’t helping matters, and he knew the stress that I (and all of us) had been under, but above all I think he understood my humanness. In all his calm understanding he tried to console me, and he tried to convince me not to be too hard on myself.

“Everyone has feelings,” he said. “We all get angry sometimes.”

Then he suggested I go back to the pool as the “one” allowed still to enter. I did say bless his heart, already, right?!

Five minutes later I sat by the water, and I texted my husband that more people might leave soon. I was having trouble getting over myself, and I still felt guilt for being a pot who tries to raise kettles not to be black. I mean, I could barely see the screen on my phone for the plank in my eye, or at least that’s how I felt. I texted that they could all join me soon, I was sure.

But he replied back, “maybe you just needed to hang out with Jesus today.”

I laughed back that, “I must need it.?”

He replied quite simply, “we all do.”

And that was the truth of it. I needed Jesus. Every minute of every day, I needed Him, cause on my own, I was a hot mess!

Y’all, I confessed pride. It was easy sometimes to think you had it all together. Like, I thought I knew what was important in life, and I scoffed at people who didn’t. I rolled my eyes at people who got upset over trivial matters. First World Problems, I called it, and over the last month or two, I had gotten pretty fed up with listening to people gripe about theirs. Just being honest. I had floated along through all the turmoil, and while it had been hard on me too, for the most part I tried to maintain. I knew that things could always be worse, and I tried to react to inconvenience with that in mind. In fact, I realized (or God revealed) sitting by the pool, that I had been pretty proud of myself for rolling with the punches. That is, until my emotions punched me right in the gut.

I had gotten upset over the very kind of thing I had chastised people for getting upset about! I had reacted poorly to personal inconvenience, and I wanted to slap me for it. How dare I stand and tell anyone to calm down when I couldn’t maintain my own feelings. How could I lecture my children when I acted like a child sometimes? And that was when I knew it even more than I did before. That’s when Jesus reminded me just how much I need Him. Without Him, I’m a mess, and I was humbled to remember that I fall so easy. I need Jesus. We all do.

This hasn’t been an easy year for any of us, and today I am reminded how fragile human emotions can be. I’m reminded of our need for the Rock of Salvation, that strong tower that keeps us steady in all of life’s storms. I don’t have it all together, and I shouldn’t expect more of anyone than I do of myself. Today may we all be reminded to lead with kindness. You never know how close another person is to losing their chill.