I didn’t plan to revisit this topic. Sometimes discussing political matters feels like beating a dead horse, but I’m discovering that while some situations appear to be political, or perhaps are manipulated by politics, they are in essence a quality of life issue, a matter of relationship, and a practice of love. With that in mind, how can I not discuss a topic that brings so many questions. In fact, I’ve had so many people reach out to me concerning Black Lives Matter (BLM), that I feel it necessary to answer those questions. I just recently had a very kind email sincerely asking how I (a white, middle-aged, Christian woman) respond to BLM and still uphold my values and moral obligations. So, allow me to explain.

Do you recall how in scripture that when Jesus came He turned the religious world upside-down? Like, the Jewish, religious leaders had an absolute fit with His behavior. They couldn’t understand how a man who claimed to love God could hang out with sinners, tax collectors, or prostitutes. They couldn’t accept these teachings about eating flesh or drinking blood. Sure, He had His twelve (albeit, one would betray Him), but a large number of disciples/followers shrank back at the difficulty of His teachings. He brought this new covenant that people couldn’t quite understand, but when they did, it changed their life. Do you remember the Samaritan woman?

First, Samaritans didn’t interact with Jews. Jewish people considered themselves of a higher station than the Samaritans, but Jesus came to breakdown stereotypes and worldly systems. Second, let’s not forget this woman at the well was a big-time sinner. She not only had broken the code by being unlawfully divorced, but she was living out of wedlock with one man while still married to another. Dude! Why in the world would a man preaching salvation and forgiveness of sin decide to reveal Himself as the son of God to someone with five husbands?!

One thing I’ve discovered in my walk with the Lord is that we as humans get sidetracked a lot. We build our churches on a foundation other than the Cornerstone. What I mean by that is we have a tendency to place a lot of importance on the religious laws, and not so much on Jesus. He came to show us a new way, but over the course of 2,000 years or so, we have fallen back into old habits. Do you remember when the Holy Spirit spoke to Peter in a dream in Acts and told him not to make unclean what God had made clean? He was alluding to the Jewish law about forbidden meats, but this dream spoke to people rather than meat. It was an acceptance of Gentiles into the faith, but it also speaks to the New Covenant that brings us all grace through forgiveness of sin. It’s not to say that the law isn’t important (we need both), but to understand the law isn’t all there is. There is mercy, grace, and love. There is Jesus. And remember, He was known for shaking things up.

In the church today, much like the church of then, we assign much value to our laws. The Bible still stands as an instruction manual for Holy living, but as task-oriented humans, we can place too much of our focus on building the faith via the rules, and less focus on building the faith through the love of Christ. We bring people to salvation through fear of damnation, and less through the light of His love, which in turn will bring truth. In other words, we focus on “this is right, that is wrong, and that’s the bottom line.”

Here’s the problem Conservative Christianity sees with BLM. They see a website, a political organization, or a moral code. They see paragraphs that support non-Biblical values on a political website founded by another human with differing values. What they don’t see is the hurting hearts of their brothers and sisters of color. They don’t see the Samaritan woman at the well who needs living water, this hurting woman who wants to worship, but is held back by Jewish practices. Instead they see an adulterous, divorcee, who is living a life of sin openly and doesn’t even care! How dare she!

The thing is, the Samaritan woman isn’t even a prime example for this moment in our personal history. My friends of color have made no poor decisions that have left them marginalized. They were simply born into a station in life where many consider them unworthy of being equal (like the Samaritans). That isn’t right, and it isn’t something Jesus would support. His way was considered radical for the time, and I suppose that today when people choose to love like He showed us it is also too radical for the church.

I could come up with scripture all day showing why loving your neighbor as yourself is the way of Jesus, but religious opposers would come back with just as much scripture pointing to laws and sin that somehow couldn’t support the equal treatment of the black lives of fellow human beings. At the end of the day, for me, it’s not about a political organization, it’s about human life. It’s not about the moral values of a few people who created an organizational statement, but about the hundreds of black friends I speak with personally who are treated unjustly and left heartbroken and fearful. It’s about the people at my table, not the religious practices held above that.

For me, it comes down to those clothe bracelets people wore when I was in school that said W.W.J.D. (What Would Jesus Do). Daily I read the words of Jesus, and when I read those words and pray for guidance from the Holy Spirit, I am led to love my brothers and sisters. I am led to lead in love and allow His truth to shine the brightest through that. God knows my heart; so who exactly is it I fear misunderstanding my Christian values when I support BLM? Is it the lost? No, I don’t think so. They’re lost. It actually probably pushes them from Christianity if I don’t stand for injustice. Is it fellow believers who I worry will think I’ve given up the commandments of my God? But they don’t hold the key to my salvation. Also, don’t forget that everything you read isn’t true. In the end, the question really becomes, do I invite the tax collector to dinner? Do I walk out of my way to end up at the well the exact same time as an adulterous woman? Do I step outside of religious obligation to show love and invite the hurting to the table of my Lord who heals?

I have discovered that a lot of people will disagree with me, and that’s ok. I promise, there’s no need to send anymore angry emails. I’ve gotten the point. But because I have loving hearts who have asked, this is my answer. How do you stand by your Christian values while supporting the hurting (black lives)? You do it just like Jesus did. It’s no secret when you read the Gospels that Jesus held the lives of people above the book of the law. For Him, leading people to His Father was the goal, not ensuring they came to the table dirt-free. He let the Father take care of that. He did not allow the religious practices to keep Him from showing another that they were precious and worthwhile to the Father. He just didn’t.

I won’t claim I’m right and others are wrong. I can only speak for my heart, and I can only share what the Lord has spoke to my heart. I can only tell you to do what I have done. Study the Word, pray, and seek Spirit and truth on this matter. My words (or those from another blogger) shouldn’t determine your position. The opinion of your friends, the news, or your political beliefs shouldn’t drive your behavior towards others. In the end, you stand at the well, and you decide if you can give someone a drink who is thirsty. If all lives matter, then all lives matter. Despite politics, despite sin, despite agenda, despite moral obligation, and despite religion. Stop allowing BLM to be about politics for you. That’s what the media and the world would try and convince you it’s all about. Why can’t it just be about the love the statement (black lives matter) implies? If all lives matter, then why can’t black lives matter too?

Every morning as I drive to work in the dark I pray. After praying for my day, my children, and my spouse, I usually allow the Holy Spirit to lead the rest of my prayers. Sometimes I pray for a specific friend or family member, and sometimes I pray for the world in general. This morning, though, I prayed for the unseen.

For some time now I have felt unrest under the surface. Starting back in March I could feel it, this unknown yet enormous conflict. The Lord began to speak to me about the battle that rages here on earth, and though we’ve seen a lot of arguments lately, that’s not the fighting I refer to. No. The battle I mention is waged in another world, a realm beyond what human eyes can normally see, although you might feel it on a spiritual level. And it will certainly affect you on a physical one.

Ephesians 6:12 For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

Demons and demonic influence are not just the stuff of Hollywood and horror movies, and while it makes for good entertainment, I suppose, it’s the furthest thing from fiction. The powers of good and evil are in an epic battle, and although we cannot see it, you have to admit you’ve felt the repercussions this year.

Have you felt down, depressed, and anxious? While you might want to blame it all on the physical circumstances of this year, I can assure you there’s more to it. Have you found yourself easily angered, to the point of rage, over the actions of others? It’s not just a difference in opinion. You’re experiencing spiritual warfare. For although the battle between angelic and demonic forces is occurring beyond what our human eye can perceive, that doesn’t mean we don’t suffer the after effects. Like a shock wave, the invisible, spiritual theme is being set for what is going on in a kingdom sense. While the armies position themselves for war, we find ourselves, human beings encouraged to position ourselves for battle.

The forces of evil are not just fighting angelic armies. They are also fighting mankind. But like their commander, the great deceiver, the father of lies, the prince of this world, they too are a sneaky bunch. They don’t appear in visible form to frighten you. That would be too obvious of their intent. No. They whisper to you. They tell little lies, over and over, until you believe they are true.

Never, in my lifetime, have I seen such blatant deception taking over so many. I’m sure you’ve seen it too. Things that normally would be recognized immediately as false are suddenly being given credit this season. Obvious evil is being called good, and atrocious acts are being called justified. I used to scoff at how mankind could possibly fall for the antics of the Antichrist, but this year I’ve seen it’s possible. The veil is thicker than it’s ever been, and the only explanation is a spiritual deception, an oppression so strong that it’s blinding.

Words that normally would be thought about before spoken out loud, have really been flying this year. Harsh, cruel, hateful insults thrown without care for the harm they can do. The apparent gentlest of people have erupted with almost monstrous glee. My jaw has dropped more times than I can count from the heinous comments I’ve seen fly over social media. Love has been suppressed in favor of rage. Understanding has been vanquished. Empathy eroded. Anger stoked. Conspiracy bred in abundance. Jesus weeps, and the devil cackles with laughter.

I have spent a lot of time this year in scripture, in prayer, and in quiet, listening to the Holy Spirit. I believe that God is doing something very big. I think Kingdom impact is happening, the harvest is near, and because of that Satan is also in overtime to try and turn it around before the final act. A war for mankind goes on behind the scenes, this year more than any other, I think, and that is why we are seeing such waves in the physical realm. It’s not just by chance this year has been so horrible, that tempers have been so short, that violence has been so widespread, that deception has been so thick, but also that eyes have been opened like never before, or that justice has begun to get a grip in this world. Change is on the horizon. Now is the time for the church to take action.

The Lord is calling all believers to pray without ceasing. Christian soldiers are being called to the frontlines of a battle you cannot yet see. I don’t care whether you are crying out for the unborn or marching in protest of racial injustice, God is calling us all to fight the good fight. Whether you’re #blm, backing the blue, or screaming all lives matter, you are called to intercede for the Kingdom. It seems that on many issues the church is divided within the physical realm, but the time has come for us to unite in the spiritual realm.

The fact is, as believers, we may be temporary citizens in this world, but we are not of it. By the blood of Jesus we’ve risen above this temporal world, and until we are completely relocated to the new earth, we would do good to remember our heritage. We don’t serve the prince of this world. We serve the King of all Kings. Our King is calling us to bear arms, but He is calling us to fight the real enemy rather than one another. He is calling us to hit our knees, to take the stance of faithful intercession, and to pray for our world. Not just our country, and not just one group of people. I don’t care whether you’re Republican or left-leaning, the Lord is calling all believers to a time of prayer. He wants us to stand, but before we stand for a particular platform or agenda, He wants us to stand for His Kingdom, which is so much greater than the physical problems we see manifesting in this world.

So, please don’t misunderstand. Continue to fight for justice for all, but love your enemy. Continue to stand up for freedom and religious rights, but not by standing on the back of anyone who disagrees with you. Speak out for truth, but not by believing the enemy’s lies to do it. Seek Him first, and He will lead you towards the rest. Now, more than ever, we must fight the real enemy, and we must unite in this common goal. We must commit to prayer for the battles we cannot see that are creating the battles we do. This is the calling of all Christian soldiers. Please join me, as we link spiritual arms, and support the real cause for Christ.

I’m aware that for some of you this will sound very strange, and that’s ok. But I’ve always been transparent, so I know no other way to share this account than how it happened. Since it’s making such a large impact on our lives, I wanted to share. Perhaps it will impact you too.

Around the first week of August I traveled to the Fort Meyers area to visit with my aunt for my birthday. We got a hotel along the beach, but the best part of the trip was definitely the company. I wasn’t that impressed with the beach there. It was probably my least favorite of all I’ve visited, and the hotel was nothing like I imagined. I could hardly take the girls to the pool due to the large crowd of adults (doing adult things, lol) there. I promise there’s a point to my descriptions of the area. Just know, it wasn’t going down as my best mini vacay ever.

Anyway, the last night there I felt a very real uneasiness, off kilter, like something was missing. I grabbed my Bible, because that’s what I do when I feel that way, but before I could get into scripture I felt the Lord tell me to go outside where it was quiet, so I could hear Him better. The girls were awake and running around in the hotel room, so the request made perfect sense. I went to the quiet balcony and took a seat.

“I’m here,” I prayed. “What now?”

I felt the Lord say, “I need you to move here.”

“I can certainly think of better beach towns to relocate to,” I joked.

He repeated, “I need you to move here.”

“When?” I asked.

“Soon.”

I continued in prayer with the Lord, and I felt that September would be the when. I felt on one hand that the Lord wanted to move my family for our protection. For some time I have had the impression that this fall will not be a good time in our country. COVID, elections, civil unrest. I’m not afraid, but I do feel like a portion of this move will be a safety thing for us. Above that, I feel it is God positioning us for His kingdom purposes. I’ve posted on social media before a vision of red push pins on a map, strings joining the pins across the globe. I believe something monumental is going on in this world, but also in the spiritual realm. The Lord is positioning His saints for His purposes. As I prayed, I heard the words “racial reconciliation,” and I pictured a black man I had seen on the street the day prior, how his eyes had glanced towards me untrustingly, and how at that time my heart had wanted to cry, “I love you, brother.” This is the first time I’ve put down that part of all this.

I have stepped out with this word, and I believe the time has come that the Lord will start opening doors and paving the way for this move. I now feel the release to share this with coworkers, friends, and family, beyond the small circle I’ve already told. God is doing something, y’all. In this world, but also in the hearts of each person. If we are open to His Spirit, He will do amazing things. Our life the past few years has been about following the Lord’s plan for us. We consider each day of our lives a ministry. My husband is so supportive and together we are in agreement for God’s plans to direct our steps. The past eight months of stability, with a permanent job (with all its perks) has been nice, but that’s just not what God has for us right now. I’m not sure if it ever will be.

This morning, when I felt the release to speak this openly, I also felt that God is about to move big time in our lives, but God works in our hearts to the degree we are willing to allow Him access. With that in mind, I realize there is a lot of distraction in this world. I shared recently the attacks we have been under since the Lord spoke this next step, and I understand now is a time where I must focus on His truth. Each day is a ministry opportunity, but we have to be listening. With that in mind, I will be disabling Facebook and Twitter. The noise is too great. This was a difficult decision for me because I love sharing what God is doing with y’all, and I know social media is a big part of that. I have weighed the pros and cons. Maybe I’ll be back one day, but for now I cut off distraction so I will have ears to hear God in this season.

I will continue to update the blog on our lives and what God is doing, but I will not be able to share it to Facebook. As always, you can find me at briegowen.com. You can join the (email) mailing list at the bottom of each post. You can even share to social media yourself with the share buttons provided at the bottom of a post, but if you just look on Facebook, you won’t find me. If you need to contact me, my Facebook messenger will still be active even though my Facebook newsfeed and page is disabled. I will keep FB and Twitter open for the next 24 hours, just so friends can see this post, but then I’ll be absent from the noise. I think social media is awesome, and I’m going to miss a lot of it. But there’s a lot I won’t miss. I don’t think we’re meant to see some of the inner ugliness that’s been apparent lately. It’s heartbreaking, and my spirit can hardly take it. Beyond that, it brews things in me that I know aren’t always of God. Three years ago we opted for a simple life. The exit of social media will make it even more so. I am saddened for the great many, Facebook friends I’ve discovered, especially over the last year. Please, y’all, keep in touch via Messenger. I don’t want to lose the sweet spirits God has placed in my life.

With joyous anticipation I look forward to the things God has planned, and I look forward with continuing to share that with you all, via my website. Thank you for following along on my journey.

P.S. If you still want to see photos of my adorable children and our adventures, I’ll still post pictures to my Instagram account, which is the same name as my website. ☺️

My daughter is at a friend’s house. Well, actually, it’s another RV, and she’s just playing in her friend’s lot/yard. It’s only maybe half a mile away, a simple bike ride, perhaps even within whistling distance if I could make one of those super loud whistles through my lips and tongue like my mother could do. So, she was close, but that didn’t make it any easier. It just didn’t.

Yesterday evening she had asked me if she could ride her bike to her best buddy’s house.

“I could tell when we video chatted that she was scared for me,” my daughter had said. “I want to make sure she can see that I’m ok.”

She was ok, but had literally been discharged from the hospital a couple of hours prior, so at her request yesterday, I had answered, “you’re so tired, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Seeing her disappointment I had added, “but me or your dad can drive you there.”

And that’s what we had done. We had driven her the little more than a football field distance to see her friend. This morning, she had slept in later than me, and as I sat in the living room I found myself wanting to go check on her in the bed. She had an acute seizure less than 48 hours prior, and I had not stopped replaying the scene in my head. I saw her eyes rolled back, and it brought tears to my own eyes, the memory was so fresh. It hurt just to recall the event I could not control, and my husband said as much.

“I keep seeing it in my head,” he commented from the other end of the couch. “I think the worst part was just watching it happen, because really there was nothing we could do to make the seizure stop. We just had to wait for it to end.”

I wanted to go check on her then, and even as I realized the irrationality of the desire, it made me feel better to look at her still, sleeping face, to kiss her forehead. My worried mind had wondered, what if she has another seizure, and you’re not there to help her? Somehow placing my eyes on her helped, but I also knew I couldn’t always have her in my sight.

We had allowed her to have her friend over this afternoon, but when the little girl needed to go back home, Chloe had asked to go with her. I heard Ben say he’d drive her there, but when he appeared in our bedroom a minute later I realized he had not.

“Did she ride her bike there?” I asked.

He replied, “yeah, I told her to come back in 40 minutes. I’ve got to just let it go.”

I nodded understanding. We had already began the discussion in the bathroom earlier. After I had been praying in the shower, I had asked him, “are you finding yourself worried about her?”

The nurse discharging us had told my daughter, “Wanna know the best part? Your life doesn’t have to change. You can do everything you’ve always done; you’ll just have to take a pill twice a day.”

I knew he had said it for her, but I also think it was a bit for me. Regardless, knowing and doing were two different things. I didn’t want her to feel different or handicapped. I remember how bad it felt for me as a little girl to be treated like the “weird, sick kid.” I remember teachers saying I shouldn’t be allowed in the computer lab with the other students because the screen might induce a seizure. I remember not being allowed to ride the three wheeler with my cousins because of the worry of me hitting my head. I remember the way kids treated me different. I even remember some family members questioning my mom for allowing me to get my driver’s license. It was not cool. I didn’t want her to feel like epilepsy made her abnormal. Just because her brain waves were.

I didn’t want to treat my baby like she was made of glass, but I also realized this was still new. It was a fresh insult to my senses, and I cut myself some slack for that. As with anytime I find myself in turmoil or worry, I had sought the Lord’s voice in the midst of my concern.

He reminded me of my own childhood. I had only had one seizure in my twelve year diagnosis of epilepsy. That’s unheard of! My first seizure had been my last, and even though I stayed on medication until I was twenty, I never had a seizure after third grade.

As I thought of this I felt the Lord say, “you see, I was with you then. Always. Even though you didn’t realize it.”

At the time of my diagnosis I did not know the Lord. I had not gone to church, and I had even initially been raised in an atheist home. I didn’t understand things like prayer and healing, or even calling out to Jesus for help. And even when we began attending a church on Sunday as I went through elementary school, it never occurred to me or was suggested to me to pray about my diagnosis. It was just something I lived with.

Last night my daughter had said, “I hope I don’t have to take medicine until I’m twenty like you did. Why did God wait so long to heal you?”

Even though the answer was easy, it surprised me when I had said, “I never thought to ask Him to. It wasn’t until I was twenty that people prayed for me about it.”

As I stood in the shower talking to My Father, and He reminded me of His presence through my time with epilepsy, I realized the gift of His love. I had not known Him and I didn’t pray to Him, but He knew me. He loved me even when I didn’t know He cared, and He had poured out His favor and mercy on me even then. He was the reason I had only one seizure. He was the reason my illness was not worse. He had always wanted to heal me, but He had to wait until the right time.

“I had to wait until you would know it was me.”

As I listened to the Spirit of the Lord I realized He loves Chloe, my firstborn, even more than I love her. He didn’t want to see her in pain or sickness. It hurt His heart too when she convulsed on my lap, but just like me, He was also with her. He would take care of her. I was reminded of how He cared for me, even when I didn’t know Him, and I thought, how much more will He pour out His favor on my daughter who cries out to Him in faith! On my daughter who we all intercede for!

Then I pictured myself at the feet of Jesus, at His thrown. I laid down my worry, my anxiety, and my child. I surrendered my girl to Him. I trusted that the One who loved her even more than I did, that He would do what was best for her life. I released her. I let go of what I loved. In return, I took the gift of His peace and comfort.

The fact is, I can’t always be with my child. I don’t know if she might have further seizures. I can’t control the future of her illness any more than I could control her seizing body days prior. But I can trust the God who has all control. So that’s where I am with this right now.

Before I even got halfway through this post my daughter returned from her friend’s house. She was all smiles and no worries. She sat on the bed with me as I wrote, telling story after story of her latest slime she had made, and I realized some things didn’t change. Her epilepsy had not changed the joyful nature she exuded, and the Father who had held me as a sick child was the same Father who now held her. And that gave me peace.

Have you ever had one of those days? Like, I’m talking about the kind of day where you hit a brick wall mentally in what you feel like you can handle for the shift, but then you realize you have to keep going? Through that concrete wall?! Yeah, I had one of those recently. It happens in the field of nursing.

But thankfully there’s also the days where you wanna pinch yourself and say, “I can’t believe they’re paying me so much to do this!”

Regardless of the day, good or bad, crazy busy or super slow, blessed or a mess, you can typically think of some amusing ways to describe it. I know when I was losing my marbles the other day I thought of a really good one. So, without further ado, here’s 35 descriptions of nursing, or comparisons, if you will, that I thought might brighten your day. Enjoy.

Nursing is like…

1. Forest Gump’s box of chocolates. You never know what you’re going to get.

2. A magician’s handkerchief. You can think you’ve reached the end of a task, but it just keeps coming and coming.

3. Working in a restaurant. It’s either dead or dinner rush.

4. Murphy’s Law on Steroids.

5. Reading stereo instructions. Upside down. In Mandarin.

6. Riding a bicycle. On ice. Very thin ice.

7. A cruise. On the Titanic.

8. Final exams. But if you fail someone dies.

9. The movie Groundhog Day.

10. That dream where you’re falling.

11. Being lost in the desert. Your lunch break is the oasis in the distance. But it keeps being a mirage.

12. The nightmare where you’re naked in front of a classroom. Except the class is your patient’s family. And the speech you’re giving is the answer to irrelevant questions.

13. A debate. And your opponent is WebMD.

14. A Maury episode. “You stated you didn’t need anything else. Your use of the call light 0.2 seconds later determined that to be a lie.

15. Being a firefighter. But all your extinguishers and hoses are filled with gasoline. And there’s no accessible emergency exit.

16. Playing Tetris. Your level is the elevator. Before the door closes you have to stack your patient, bed, IV pole, Respiratory Therapist, transporter, and self. God Speed.

17. Being a lip reader.

18. Being a mind reader.

19. Playing Good Cop/Bad Cop. You play both parts. In the same shift.

20. Waiting tables. But there’s no tips.

21. An episode of Dr. G.

22. An episode of Hoarders.

23. An episode of Intervention.

24. An episode of My Strange Addiction.

25. That song from The Lamb Chop Show. “This is the shift that never ends. It just goes on and on my friend!”

26. Being the coyote on Road Runner when he would run into a brick wall thinking it was a light at the end of the tunnel, then get up and keep the chase going.

27. Being lost in the woods, thinking you’re about to find your way out over the next ridge, then realizing you just walked in a circle.

28. Leading a horse to water, but then it getting admitted within thirty days for dehydration.

29. Being a personal assistant to a Kardashian. Not the ones on the show, but maybe one of their less well-known cousins.

30. Being a superhero, but anyone who knows you just thinks you’re Clark Kent or Peter Parker.

31. Those circus performers who balance multiple spinning plates on tiny poles.

32. MacGyver. With fewer supplies on hand.

33. A plane going down, and trying to remember to put on your own mask before helping others.

34. Dinner at the inappropriate relatives’ table. Have you heard the conversations at the nurses’ station?!

35. Nothing you see on the medical dramas on television!

What ones can you add? Let me know in the comments.

This morning as I was driving to work the topic of addiction came to my mind. I’m not sure what brought it specifically up in my thoughts, but I would imagine it’s because it’s played a major role in my life.

You see, I knew how to draw lines of cocaine by the age of five.

I was born into a long lineage of alcoholism, mental illness, and suicide.

I attempted to kill myself the first time by age eight.

I have attended so many funerals related to addiction.

I have family who have suffered through addiction, and I have friends suffering through it still.

I’ve seen too many people lose that battle.

I married an addict.

I myself was an addict.

No one can seem to wrap their head around the idea when I share that my five foot four, one hundred and ten pound self use to easily drink up to eighteen beers a night. Eighteen. No one believes me. I guess I don’t look like an alcoholic.

And that’s what brought my thoughts around to a special truth this morning. It’s something God has let me in on over time. It’s a comment that flies in the face of everything addicts are told, but it’s something I think they need to hear the most.

It’s what God would say to the person who is currently or has in the past suffered with addiction. To you, God would say this.

You are not an addict.

Stop the presses! Crazy, I know. But this is core truth. This is what carries me each day.

I am not an addict.

My husband? He is not an addict.

AA (Alcoholics Anonymous) would shudder at the phrase. And I’ve even said myself, once an addict, always an addict. But y’all, that’s just not true.

I am a child of God.

You are a child of God.

Does that mean I’m gonna pick up a case of Miller Light on the way home from work? No. I know that my tendencies to overindulge in alcohol are still present. I know my flesh and worldly self would like nothing more than to unwind after a hard day with some booze. A nice buzz would feel great. So, I won’t stop for beer on the way home. But, I am not an addict. Addiction is something I have dealt with, it’s something God has healed me from, and it’s something that I could fall back into under the right circumstances if I allowed it access.

But, I am not an addict. Addiction is an affliction I suffered. It’s a hereditary trait that runs in my family. It’s a cruel habit I tried to break for years that caused broken relationships and could have killed me. I’ve seen it do even worse to people I love. I’ve had my own heart shattered to pieces at the hand of addiction in the life of those I hold dear.

But, I am not an addict.

I am a daughter of the Most High God.

You are not an addict. You might be suffering under the stronghold of addiction. And oh my goodness, that grip is an iron one. I know. You might feel you can never overcome, and on your own, I believe that’s true. But we can do all things through Christ who gives us strength (Philippians 4:13).

He can do more than we can fathom or imagine (Ephesians 3:20).

We are more than conquerors through Him, because He loves us (Romans 8:37).

The past is gone! We’ve been made new (2 Corinthians 5:17)!

We are sons and daughters of God!! Here’s 20 verses that say it’s so.

And your (my) adoption as a child of God is the only title that matters.

I work as a nurse, but I’m a child of God. Nursing doesn’t define me.

I am married, but I’m a child of God. Being a wife doesn’t define me.

I have three lovely daughters, but I am, myself, the daughter of the King! Being a mother doesn’t define me.

Being a child of God, being one with Jesus Christ who died for me, being one with the Father. That is what defines me.

I am not an addict. I am so much more, through Christ. I am free. Chains are broken. Addictions are thrown out. Familial curses are stopped in their tracks. Diagnoses don’t even stand a chance. I know, this flies in the face of everything we are told. Is addiction a choice, or is it a disease? It doesn’t matter. The fact that addiction doesn’t rule you; that’s what matters. It may for a time. It might still have a grasp. But it doesn’t define you. You are more than addiction. You are a child of God.

If you have a family member who is under addiction, please don’t treat them like an addict. I mean, if your son is addicted to heroin, he doesn’t suddenly become “not” your son. He’s not an addict. He’s your son who has a problem with addiction. Don’t affirm his worth based on his habit. Affirm his worth based on your love for him as a son.

If you love someone battling addiction, you may have to step back, place boundaries, protect your heart, but don’t see them just as an addict. They are a child of God. He holds them in His hand. And though their free will to decide may cause them harm, He is always working towards their good. He loves them. So, you love them too.

Don’t let your past addiction define you. You have been made new.

Don’t let your current addiction define you. He is making all things new. Hold on, press in, cry out to the Father. You are a child of God. So call Dad to bail you out.

When the world seems to have given up on you, He has not.

When you have given up on yourself, He has not.

When you have given up on your loved one, He has not.

You are not an addict. Through Christ, because of Christ, you are more.

Something happens to kids during the Christmas season, and although I’ve been taking it all in stride with jolly remembrances of my own childhood in mind, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have moments of red-hot frustration.

Little kids, and heck, big kids too, get super excited for Christmas time. There’s a big tree in the living room with tons of sparkly baubles to move around. There’s cookies, and music, and so many parties. With presents! So many presents.

I’m the biggest kid of them all this time of year, and I get excited too, but nothing compared to my girls. They get wild, and perhaps the extra sugar is to blame, but regardless of the specific cause they are like tiny, chattering tornados. They’re quick to get into mischief, and slow to listen.

What better way to keep kiddos in line than to pull out the old Santa card. After all, he sees you when you’re sleeping, and he knows when you’re awake. He even knows if you’ve been bad or good, and now his buddy the Elf on the Shelf helps ensure you’re good for goodness sake.

It’s perfect, and parents will tell you they readily use the “you better be good if you want presents” line to keep hyper children from killing them slowly with their ill-enacted excitement. I certainly do, but today I realized I’ve been doing it all wrong.

It came to me as my young daughters argued over a toy, and their screeching voices carried into the other room. It was their billionth fight of the day, and tense after only being able to handle so much crying in a given day I called out, “If I were you I’d be good. I’d be worried I wouldn’t get any presents for being so bad!”

Beautiful silence answered from the other room, but then I felt God speak to my heart. “Is that how it is Brie?” He asked softly.

I pondered to myself, do I even deserve this gift of Christmas? I certainly haven’t earned my salvation.

While I love the excitement of Santa Clause, and the magic he brings with his sackful of presents, I wonder if I’ve missed the mark in properly presenting the true spirit of Christmas.

You see, some 2000 years ago a child was born of a virgin, and He would be a gift for all mankind. When He died on the cross as a man He did so to save me. Me, a sinner. His gift did not come with conditions, and no matter how “bad” I may be He still would have died for me. Conversely, no matter how “good” I am this is not what earns me the present of eternal life with Him. He gives it because He loves me, and I accept it humbly.

I found myself sitting down with my daughters and trying to explain a few facts I had missed. As the eldest listened wide-eyed I explained my love for her, my unconditional love. I told her of Jesus and the gift of His life given despite our “bad” behavior.

I explained that even if she wasn’t always her best that Christmas presents would still come to a grateful heart eager to receive. “We give out of love because that’s how Jesus taught us to give. I don’t want you to be good because you want something. You are good because you love me. But presents will come either way.”

Perhaps she will remember my words, or perhaps she was distracted by Rudolph on the TV. But either way I decided that from now on she deserved to be taught how Jesus works, not the world.

We’ll still do Santa, but our Saint Nick will have the character of Christ rather than a man with a list marking off his children based on their deeds.

Ephesians 2:8-9 (NIV)

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith, and this is not from yourselves; it is the gift of God, not by works, so that no one can boast.

*My Dear Readers,

If this post seems familiar to you, it’s because it’s a blog I first wrote four Christmases ago. I decided to resurrect it for the new friends who have joined our journey together.

I still hold firmly to the above belief. I don’t try and manipulate my children’s behavior using Santa threats, and it’s worked great for our family. We are a home built on grace, and we all, as children one way or the other, obey out of love and discipline.

Have a Merry Christmas friends, and be blessed for the great gifts given to you despite your (all our) missteps along the way.

In Christ,

Brie

My Dear Readers,

As an important part of our lives I wanted to send you out the photo we had taken for our Christmas cards. Now, be forewarned that this isn’t your typical card, but I think you’ll find it suits us well.

In the spirit of the popular movie, National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, I came up with this idea. My Mother never cared for that movie, or any of their other movies (unlike most of America) due to the main character, Chevy Chase’s wandering eye when it came to fidelity. I respected her for that opinion, and it too affected my opinion of the films. So, unlike many friends my age, I don’t consider Christmas Vacation to be the absolute best Christmas movie. I love It’s a Wonderful Life (which I’ve already seen this year), the original cartoon How the Grinch Stole Christmas (I know every line), and have recently fallen in love with Dolly Parton’s movies, Coat of Many Colors & Christmas of Many Colors. If you haven’t seen those two, then do yourself a favor and check them out!

But back to Christmas Vacation. It was the inspiration for our Christmas Card this year. If you recall, the infamous Cousin Eddie came along to visit in an RV. His lifestyle was frowned upon, and like him, I’m sure people look down in disdain for the life we have chosen to lead. Selling our large home in favor of a fifth wheel. Parting with our possessions to squeeze our family of five into a traveling home. Well, it may seem unconventional or even crazy, but if God leads, you follow.

In this Card we decided to go along with the stereotype and make a little fun of ourselves. So please enjoy at our expense the bags of trash, naked baby, and dirty children’s faces.

Thank you for following along as we learn our way through this life.

Love,

Ben, Brie, and the girls

My Dearest Husband,

Remember when I told you a few years ago, “I’d be happy living in a cardboard box as long as it was with you!” Well, on retrospect, I think you said that first, but I did readily agree. Lol.

Who knew back then where we’d be now. I gotta be honest, when we walked into that little extended stay hotel in Florida, I thought of that cardboard box. It was so tiny, and not what I expected at all, but I knew it would be ok. I just knew it. I knew because God was with us, but I also knew because you were with me.

I think God did an amazing thing when He put us together. Somehow when we became one flesh we started bringing out the best in one another, and then pushing out the worst. And it seems to me that even today we do that. You inspire me to be a better person, and I see God using you in my life.

I really could live in a box if you were there with me. Sometimes the bathroom of our RV feels like a box so maybe that counts.

What I love, though, is that together in this dynamic duo/powerhouse that God made when He united us, we don’t put God in a box. We go where He leads and continue to learn together.

So, my love, here’s to life in a box with you, but more importantly, life outside of the box the world tries to give.

I feel like I could do anything as long as it’s with you. Thank you for helping me to cultivate courage, to stretch myself past fear, to love others more abundantly, and to trust God in all things.

You are my person, and I’m so glad God placed us together, again. Happy 9th Anniversary!

Love,

Brie