Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

When Your Well-Made Plans Fall Through

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Proverbs 16:9 (NLV)

We can make our plans, but the LORD determines our steps.

This verse popped into my head last night, and I just had to laugh. It’s all I could do. I’ll be perfectly honest, though; at first I wanted to cry. All the plans I had made, and not a single one had panned out. In fact, each one, one by one had fallen through. Now what were we gonna do?!

A month off! Sounds good, but crazy, right?! I mean, it’s not like I had paid time off. It’s not even like we had some huge nest egg set back to pull from. Nope. All I had was certainty. I’ve stopped questioning my ability to hear from the Lord. When I feel Him leading me in a certain direction, well, I just go. I used to obsess back and forth, “is this really God’s will,” but I learned something pretty darn important. Are you ready for this nugget?

He’ll work it out regardless.

I’ve found that you often have to step out of your comfort zone to follow where God is leading. Sometimes we can use the excuse of “I’m not sure it’s God’s will” to keep us from doing something scary, and as a side effect we never experience the blessing he had in mind. It takes courage to hear from the Lord, but once you can trust that he’s speaking to you, especially in the big things, it will simply become second nature to follow him for the little things. It took me a while to grasp this. The great, grand conclusion is that even if you accidentally turn left when God says right, he’ll just have you bust a couple more lefts to get around the block.

Romans 8:28 (NLT)

And we know that God causes everything to work together[a] for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.

Anyway, back to my story. I had decided to take the month of December off work as a travel nurse. I felt like God was leading us to take that time. I felt it was a needed rest, a time of rejuvenation for my husband, and much needed communion with my loved ones beyond our immediate family circle. I felt I needed to take those five weeks off from work so strongly that I just made the decision and did it!

I remember telling a coworker, “I’m not sure we have the funds to take off all that time, but I’m walking it out in faith.”

Even though I knew in my heart God wanted us to take this sabbatical, and I knew he was our provider, you better believe I set out planning. And that’s a good thing. I’m a quarter fly by the seat of my pants, half map it out accordingly, and 1/4 let the chips fall where they may, after my map flies out the window. Which is exactly what happened.

I started by squirreling money away, telling the kids no, placing a freeze on eating out. All good things. I kept running through the numbers, like, repeatedly tallying debits versus credits, to the point that even I felt convicted.

“Sorry, Lord,” I’d say as I put my calculator down. “I just need to trust you on this.”

The numbers were there, though, and that honestly gave me peace to know we weren’t being total idiots. With our camping membership in play, the whole time back home with family would be a rent-free stay for our RV, and I even found parks along the route home that would be free or no more than $10 for the night. I was pretty proud of myself.

“Oh, I’m sorry hon,” the lady on the phone said. “There are no vacancies.”

And so it began. Every stop I had planned, didn’t go as planned. The park within our camping membership back home that promised a three week stay for free? Closed for the season. Not one single plan I made went as planned, and I’ve found that happens in this life. As much as I want to try and fix everything before it’s even broken, some things I just don’t have the knowledge to mend. But my Poppa does.

I told a friend last night, “if there’s anything I’ve learned over the past two years, it’s that it will work out.”

Y’all, God is faithful to those who trust in him. We certainly don’t deserve it, but he continues to pour out his great grace and favor over us. The past couple of years have been a faith-building journey of uncertainty, yet through it all God always made a way. Nowhere to stay? He would place something unexpectedly in our path. Good health, safety, and provision always given. If an unexpected repair came up, then the funds came through. We learned not to worry what our next step would be. We just kept our eye on our guide. Jesus. Always Jesus.

It’s like, the more I placed my trust in him, the more he supplied his favor. I said I laughed when I thought of that verse from Proverbs because I know God’s not done with me yet.

Last night I told the Lord, “well, I guess you’re not done showing me what all you can do.”

My faith isn’t perfect, y’all. Far from it. You better believe I got a little twitchy thinking about the extra funds needed for lot rent for the month of December, but then the Holy Spirit whispered that verse. See, besides being just okay at my faith, I’m also just an alright planner, but thankfully my all-knowing God’s got this. My plans can fall through, and I don’t have to sweat it, because my trust is in him. Where he leads, he provides, and in the end, that’s really all I need to know.

3 Steps to Experience the Miracles of Jesus in Your Life

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Don’t you love how you can read something in the Bible many different times, but it can suddenly speak something different to your heart than it ever has before? I used to think maybe I hadn’t paid as much attention to detail the first few times, but then I realized it was actually the Holy Spirit. You see, the Bible is a living word and Jesus speaks to us through it as he wills. I know this, but I still felt that feeling of awe when reading a familiar account recently. The feeding of the 5,000 in Luke is a Bible story taught to little children, but I felt like a youth when I read it yesterday. It spoke anew to me of the responsibility his disciples held in assisting Jesus to carry out the miracle. They had responsibilities, and it turns out, so do we.

If you aren’t interested in seeing Jesus work miracles in and through your life then stop reading now. Close out this link and continue on in your place of comfort, but if you’re eager for even just some crumbs from the Master’s table, then let’s break it down together.

1. Let go of your plan. You’ll notice that right away when the disciples saw a problem they started coming up with solutions. Practical solutions. Hey, I’ve discovered that miracles don’t typically appear practical, and it didn’t readily enter the minds of the disciples to ask for one. I’m sure we can relate.

Hungry crowd. Check. Can someone call Pizza Hut and see if they deliver out this far? But seriously, it says the twelve saw the crowd, went to Jesus and said, “hey, you probably better tell this mob to cut out and grab some grub” (ok, I’m paraphrasing, but you get me).

They saw the issue. Hungry crowd. They went for an obvious solution, albeit not the best. Sure, it may have been the easiest, but the crowd would miss the blessing if they left early to go find food. Turns out, the twelve would have missed their blessing as well.

See, for Jesus to do what he can do, we have to let go of our way. We have to forfeit our plans much of the time. We can’t go into prayer and say, “Jesus, I need you to do ______.” Instead we need to ask, “Lord, how should we solve this? What can you do in this hopeless, difficult situation? I know you have a plan.”

2. Obey. Ok, so when the disciples went to Jesus with the problem and solution (in their minds), he was quick to say, “you give them something to eat.”

You.

How many times has Jesus said “you” to one of us and we’ve answered back, “oh, not me, Lord. Someone else is far more qualified I’m sure.”

Do you remember the rich ruler who asked what he needed to do to follow Jesus? Christ gave him the answer, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He walked off disappointed, and Jesus wasn’t able to show him the miracles he could have worked in and through that rich man. He couldn’t obey. Jesus was asking too much.

If you’re wanting to see the Lord work in your life then you’re going to have to obey. Obedience isn’t a bad thing. It’s not God’s heavy-handed way of beating us down. It’s actually a practice in love. When my husband tells our daughters to stop when they’re about to run into a parking lot, he instructs them in love. He wants to keep them safe, he wants to bless them, and he wants them to live to see all the wonderful things this life has to offer. When he instructs, they obey. Their obedience to him is a service in love. They obey out of respect, but also because they know Dad has their best interests at heart. Much the same, if we’re wanting the best life has to offer, and especially if we want to see the Lord work mightily in our lives, we must learn to obey.

3. Step out.

Okay, I love this part of the story. Jesus says, “have them sit down in groups of about fifty each.”

Alright, so first off Jesus tells them this right after they had relayed they only had five loaves of bread and two fish. For five thousand men! And that’s just the men they were counting. What about the women and children?! I know my nine year old daughter could eat the two fish and at least a loaf and a half herself. Regardless of the huge number, Jesus pulls out of left field this rather odd picnic idea, with limited resources, and do you know what his gang of twelve do?

Now, they knew. Don’t forget, they knew he could do some stuff. They knew he worked miracles. The thing is, we as a church know Jesus can work miracles too, but somewhere between shouting hallelujah and stepping out personally we get cold feet. We say, “yeah, I believe Jesus still performs miracles,” yet we don’t believe he can work them through us. We assume he saves the miracle business for the truly pious, the preacher, maybe the neighbor who remembers to read their Bible every single day. But not us.

So, we miss the miracle. Maybe we’re afraid we’ll step out and it won’t work. It doesn’t say it in scripture, but I imagine one of those twelve, as they sheepishly instructed hungry, tired folks to sit in groups of fifty, like a kindergarten story time, I imagine one of them must have felt silly. Surely one of them wondered how their teacher was going to pull this one off. I’m sure there was some doubt, yet still they obeyed. Luke goes on to say they did it. They did as Jesus said. They sat everyone down. In groups of fifty at that. And do you know what happened?!

Everyone was fed. And they were satisfied.

So, I guess the question is, are you hungry? Are you craving to be filled with the healing, joy, fullness, and divine knowledge of Christ? If you are thinking “yes” then maybe it’s time to pop a squat and anticipate your share as Jesus breaks the bread of miraculous power in his hands, blesses it, and then passes it on to you. He’s got enough to go around. He just requires more people who will let go of their specific lunch plans, have a seat, and partake in the miracle provision he provides.

Why Do We Celebrate Anxiety?

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“Girl, I am so busy! I’m about to lose my mind!”

We make a joke, make light of the situation, while in reality we just went into the bathroom and cried. Have you noticed yet that we’ve become a society who wears busyness like a badge of honor? It’s as if the fuller our plate here on earth, the greater our reward one day will be. But to me that represents a merit based system the world has created rather than the grace we’ve been gifted. We end up building who we are on what we do, and I don’t think it’s supposed to be that way.

A man who goes to his job sun-up til sundown, 6-7 days a week is a “good provider.” To be a good mother we are convinced we must reach a certain plateau. Our children must be pristinely groomed in the latest fashion, ready for a photo op at a moment’s notice. You need the right brands, the right house, and the right vehicle. Success is equated with the size of your pocket book, and your Christianity is based on Sunday attendance or how many ways you donate. And while I’ll be the first to admit those things do have their importance, we’ve convoluted our thinking to assume they’re the most important.

Young moms are bringing their babies to Sunday service not because they crave the presence of Jesus and His worshipping church, but rather because it’s expected. They dress their tots in matching, monogrammed outfits not for their own pleasure, but rather to appear like their life is as presentable as their children’s wardrobes. We lose sight of the ragged appearance of the Gospel, like our piety holds precedence over the bloody scene on Calvary. Not to say we don’t need reverence, but when you place it above the cross you’ve elevated man before His Savior.

We become what we do. It’s all a show. There’s a parade of what a perfect life should be, and everyone is in line to put on their costume for the day. Every day becomes the same, a repetition of being who we think we need to be, not who we were meant to be. In other words, we’re allowing the world to direct our steps, and we’re pushing the will of God into the closet with the gift bags and tissue paper we hold on to for a rainy day. Do you really think the Lord is grading our performance?

God wants our love, and the world wants our distraction. If we get lost in becoming what we see on Instagram, we’ll miss who Jesus wants us to become. If we’re placing our importance on how many plates we can spin, we’ll forget who to cry out to when they fall. When our perfect world comes crashing down, we’ll be lost on how to pick up the pieces.

We worry, oh Lord, do we worry. We worry where our sustenance will come from. We place our trust in horses and chariots to win our wars, for its our savings account that saves us. It’s our insurance that ensures we’re taken care of. It’s our devotion to our clean homes, cleanly swept walkway, and community reputation that gives us our purpose. We shine our windows so the world can see the outward beauty we project, but the chimneys, those hidden, dark places are filthy with soot. Our hearts are corrupted, but our front yard is maintained. We can check the boxes of soccer mom and baseball dad, but meanwhile we’re sleeping in separate beds. We can throw the perfect holiday party, but our soul feels as dirty as the kitchen sink the day after. But at least our Christmas card looks professional.

We feed our satisfaction with shopping sprees and our worried mind with a bottle of wine, yet our souls are in torment; they are hungry. We’ve become a very anxious lot, and the craziest part is we assume that’s just how it’s supposed to be.

John 14:27 (NIV)

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.

We’ve become a very anxious people, and the enemy will tell us that is to be celebrated, as if the fuller your plate, the fuller your cup, but the problem really becomes what that cup is overflowing. Is it Jesus? No! It’s bitterness, anger, and discontent. It’s worry, depression, and a sense of unfulfillment. We think the fastest rabbit wins the race, and that’s why you see people on their deathbed, at the finish line, weeping in regret. The fastest runner doesn’t win, but the one who can enjoy and learn from the journey. Who even remembers how to stop and smell the roses?

We make funny memes about how the Holiday Season has us freaking out, and we laugh and laugh. Meanwhile our hearts are hurting. We end up on the other side of January wondering where the joy went, why it can’t be like it was when we were a child.

Have you ever wondered why those MLM companies are so successful? It’s not just whatever product they’re pushing. It’s the dream they’re selling. A dream to not have to run so fast. A dream that you can slow down, off-load your daily to-do’s, and enjoy not having to worry about money! Money… that root of all evil, yet it’s only evil because of the focus we allow it. I’m guilty. We all just miss the fact that peace is here for the taking, but we have to lay down the things that don’t matter. What we’ve really become is a culture that places our importance on everything but the Kingdom of God right here, right now in our lives. Yes, Jesus come quick, I agree, but we forget that He is here right now, in our hearts, yet hidden by worldly distraction.

I wonder if we can change? I wonder if we can stop assuming a fast-paced anxiety is the best we’ll get this side of eternity, if we can understand that freedom has already been won when Jesus died for us? He didn’t give His life for us to be slaves to time, our workload, commitments, and routine. Indeed, He’s freed us from that sin that so easily entangles us.

Maybe we can step out in freedom by laying life down. Gain more by letting go of it all. Take an inventory of our full plate, and pick today to scrap off the pieces that aren’t giving us life. Jesus has given us life, but also an abundant life, a life free from anxiety. The Bible instructs us to “fear not” 365 times, one for every day of the year. We fear the things we cannot change, yet many of those same things we can change by letting them go. We can stop celebrating anxiety and instead cast it down.

Philippians 4:6 (NIV)

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.

Investing in the Future

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Today I was going through an app that allows me to see pictures I posted on social media from the time I had a smartphone, and as I was swiping left I came across a cherished photo. It was a black and white shot of my firstborn from six years ago, and I felt a bittersweet ache in my heart that got stuck as an emotional lump in my throat. As I gazed at the precious memory my eldest girl walked up.

Y’all, my child has gotten so tall, and when I saw her standing over my lounge chair poolside, in contrast to the tiny, chubby-cheeked babe on my phone, I was struck straight through the heart, as if an arrow representing the swift passage of time had pierced through to my marrow.

The most peculiar part, to me, was that I didn’t remain melancholy over how fast it all goes. Instead I felt a sense of contented joy, like everything was progressing as it should. I had zero regret for the things I should of/could of done, and though I wasn’t claiming a perfect parenting plan, I was pleased with our journey thus far. I didn’t feel so much like it was a cruel, fleeting season, but rather one I was savoring with vigor.

When I first became I mother I realized it was my greatest responsibility and most enjoyable tasking of life. I quickly discovered I wanted nothing more than to leave my nine to five and find a way to mother more. I was blessed at the time to find a position at my hospital where I could work less and be home more with little financial difference. Cause, come on, although a lot of men and/or women desire to see their children more, it doesn’t seem like it can always work out that way. I never took for granted the opportunity I had been afforded to spend time with my children while also working as a bedside nurse.

As life changed and seasons followed suit, I found circumstances altered, but my greatest goal never changed. Here’s what I didn’t want. I didn’t want other people raising my babies. They were my reward, and I didn’t want to hand that prize to another. But more than that, they were my legacy, my responsibility (which I took very seriously), and the ministry God had given me for this particular time of my life. I knew that my largest and most monumental heart desire was to be able to instill in my children the things I had been unaware of until adulthood. I wanted to raise them wholly aware of God’s hand in their life, and I desired to equip them with the wisdom of knowing they were not alone in the battles they faced. I needed them to see firsthand how joy-filled a life serving the Lord could be. I wanted them to have the opportunity to see things it had taken me forty years to discover.

This hefty, utmost knowledge I knew couldn’t be passed along in a thirty minute Sunday School lesson. It was something that must be instilled, but also modeled. It was something I had to walk out, showing them daily, and I wanted to be able to do it. As parents, my husband and I have made sacrifices to maintain our goals. We have downsized and let go of materialistic treasures, in favor of investing in what we consider our Heavenly Treasure. Our babies. To gain time with them we had to let go of the things that stole our time from them. I’m grateful we were given the desire and insight to make this work.

Not that I’ve obtained it yet, like, where I totally want to be, but I can look backwards and see improvement over time. Heck, a mere two-three years ago I was stuck in the hamster wheel too. I was running ragged, overbooking my schedule, over-extending myself, and sadly teaching my children that was normal. We were always going, rushing, and trying to fill commitments that weren’t necessary. Laundry was a chore, grocery shopping grueling, and the supper-time crunch exasperating. Why we call this normal, I’ll never know. I guess because it’s the way it’s always been, but with the addition of everyone critiquing our lives as we narrate them, or coveting how smoothly someone else’s story appears.

Thankfully, I can now proceed without regret, knowing I’m investing the most in what matters most. I don’t feel like I’m missing out on my children’s childhood. I have a ringside seat to their life. We homeschool largely in part because of our desire to not miss the majority of their life. I saw a story recently of schools possibly extending their hours. Can you imagine?!

We found an area of the country where we can work less but make a larger income, and on top of that we found a way to cut down our expenses. It was scary leaving our comfort zones, but totally worth it in the end. As the world gets faster and the focus convoluted, I see more people choosing to do things the way we are doing. Downsizing, minimalizing, and seeking opportunities to focus on family more. I’m thankful we realized it’s okay to step outside of the norm and pursue something different. Almost every day I see people voice their unhappiness with the pace of their life or with the lack of quality time with loved ones.

I guess I would just say to every discontented parent, “you can do it!” If you’re not happy with life, change it. Don’t be afraid to try something new. Don’t be afraid to step out of your comfort zone. Don’t be worried about what other people think, and don’t be scared to fail. You will never know if your life can improve if you stay stuck in your rut. Break out.

Maybe you’re happy with the way things are. That’s wonderful! But if you’re not consider this post your call to duty. It’s time to invest in what’s important in life, and it’s the people you love. I took care of a patient once who was on his death bed. In pleasant conversation I had told his wife about my life, how I traveled in an RV with my family, homeschooling, working a little, and having fun a lot. She was intrigued and enamored, as most people are, but I’ll never forget her words.

“I wish we had done that.”

You see, they had wanted to travel as a family, but they had waited. They waited until things settled down. They waited until a certain season passed. They waited until Junior finished school. Then they waited until retirement. One month into traveling her husband was diagnosed with terminal cancer.

“It’s too late now,” she had said.

Consider this your wake up call, your sign, if you will. Don’t wait another minute to follow your dreams and spend time doing what you love. You just think there’s no way out, but there’s always another way. It may involve sacrifice, and it might be frightening. People may try and talk you out of it, but I am encouraging you to try anyway. You will never know unless you take that step, and you’ll only regret what you didn’t do.

I Never Did Mind the Little Things

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I turned to throw a used cotton-ball into the tiny, bathroom trashcan, and I suddenly noticed the huge ball of long gray hair. It sat on the outside of the swinging door entrance to the garbage, and I easily identified it as my husband’s since the rest of us were all crowned with differing shades of dirty dishwater blond. I could picture him standing in the small bathroom, running his fingers through his long, more salt than pepper hair, before gathering it into a tidy ponytail, and flinging the loose hairs that had caught between his digits towards the trash absently. Sigh. This was my husband.

I easily and quickly pushed the wad of forgotten hair into the awaiting can, while also depositing there any hint of frustration that had tried to rear it’s ugly head.

I never did mind the little things.

I smiled to myself as the line of a nineties movie staring Bridget Fonda came to mind. In the film she had been a thief turned government assassin, who subsequently had to be turned from a crack addict criminal into a lady of refinement (ain’t Hollywood grand), and her etiquette coach had encouraged her that when nervous to repeat the phrase to herself to remain calm.

I never did mind the little things.

Although I wasn’t hiding behind a small, kitchen counter loading my beretta while gunfire exploded around me like our dear Bridget, I could certainly relate to my emotions getting the better of me. And though it wasn’t my life I feared for, it was my marriage and family. Even though I couldn’t see the bullets blowing up around me, I knew that fiery arrows flew in my direction. As a child of God I knew it wasn’t flesh and blood I battled, but attacks from an enemy who sought to destroy the covenant of marriage. One very effective weapon of warfare in his arsenal was the missile of comparison and the smoke bomb of selfishness. As silly as it may sound, he brought both of those things stealthily into the atmosphere of marriage to create an air of discontent and division.

I never did mind the little things.

My defense was my ability to not take offense. In other words, when I felt nudged to selfishly compare myself to my spouse, I had to take inventory.

I had to ask myself, “is this really worth being bothered by?”

I had to remember my faults and not just highlight my husband’s.

My husband and I will have been married ten years this month, and I learned early on that we had our differences. Things I felt were important weren’t as much to him, and things that bothered me didn’t cause him concern at all. As we’ve grown as a couple over the years we have learned how to take the feelings of the other into consideration and act/react accordingly, but it’s not like we’ve changed who we are. We’ve become more loving, considerate, and selfless in our service to one another, but it’s not like we took a magic potion to suddenly become the perfect spouse. He wasn’t perfect, I wasn’t perfect, but most importantly, we didn’t expect that of each other.

A widow will tell you how she pines to find her late husband’s laundry outside of the basket. For the very things we may find at one moment as annoying are the very things someone else could only hope for. A dirty dish beside the bed is far better than a forever empty sink. It comes down to having a choice to make in your relationship. You can choose to focus on the minuscule madness or see it all as a beautiful mess. You can point out the idiosyncrasies of your spouse while ignoring your own, or you can celebrate having someone to share in the ups and downs of life. I’m not saying you ignore blatantly inconsiderate actions, silently taking abuse like some marital martyr, but I am suggesting we take a moment to calm our emotions and take an inventory of what is most important.

I never did mind the little things.

Is being right every time the most important? Is it winning every argument? Is it never picking up the slack when your partner doesn’t carry their fair share of the load, assuming that you yourself never falter in such a way?

If you answered yes to the above then marriage will not be enjoyable to you much of the time, because instead of a partnership, you’re viewing it as a competition.

Perhaps a happy union means that you decide to let the little things go. Maybe it means serving someone in love while expecting nothing in return. I think it involves changing your perspective, highlighting the positive, rather than magnifying the minor faults that arise. I don’t see a ball of discarded hair or a pile of dirty clothes as much as I see a loving man who makes me feel beautiful always, who serves me consistently, who teaches and disciplines our children with grace, who would lay down his very life for us.

I never did mind the little things.

Because I’m too focused on the big things. I see to the heart of the matter rather than being distracted by the things of this world. I don’t expect perfection of my spouse. The only perfect man died for me over 2,000 years ago. But I will appreciate the man God has placed in my life to love me, my faults included. I’ll be thankful he adores me despite those same faults. I’ll be grateful that he too never did mind the little things.

When Jesus Tells You to Put Out Deep

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I come from a long line of fisherman; not by trade, but certainly not just for pleasure. What I mean is, my kinfolk wanted to catch something when they went fishing. My grandpa was known for his ability to reel in a huge haul even when others couldn’t get a bite. He took pride in knowing the waters, what time the fish were biting, and what bait best caught which fish. He was an expert at his trade, and he knew how to always bring home a full basket of fish.

Me? I didn’t inherit that specific skill. It’s not that I didn’t like fishing. I quite enjoyed it. I just wasn’t that great of a fisherwoman. I’d go home empty handed a lot, but it didn’t really bother me. See, I didn’t so much want to catch fish as much as I just liked fishing. I can think back on sweet Summer afternoons, a book in hand, draping the line between my bare toes, so if I got a tug I’d know. I was too busy reading to watch my bobber, and as you can imagine, I got my bait stolen more than not.

Not catching a big bass or catfish was just fine for me sitting out on the lake across from where I grew up, but when you start talking about bigger fish, well, it’s a different story. This morning I was reading in the Book of Luke about some guys who fished for a living. In fact, these fellas had been fishing all night. The bad part was they weren’t catching anything. They had the boat, they had the net, and they certainly had the desire, but their haul for this particular excursion had been paltry.

Suddenly, though, Jesus offers them a specific instruction, and when I read it the words were like an electric shock up my spine.

Jesus had instructed, “put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” (Luke 5:4 ESV)

It got me to thinking… Jesus was telling me to put out deep.

How many times are we in that boat, we have the desire to do God’s will, and we even have the right equipment, but we can’t seem to net a result? Perhaps it’s because we haven’t yet put out into the deep.

Y’all, there is nothing wrong with the shallow end. I like it, personally. It’s safe. You don’t get tired from treading water, and you can always see the bottom. The shallow end is known, comfortable, and you get plenty wet swimming there. But I’ve found that sometimes to really swim you have to go out to the deep end. To catch fish you have to stop being distracted and pay attention. You just do. And if Jesus is telling you to go deeper, you won’t be satisfied until you do.

Almost two years ago Jesus told me and my husband to go out deep. I even wanted to do it, too, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t scary. A lot of people we loved tried to talk us out of it. They didn’t want us to drown, and I get that. We just knew that Jesus wanted us to fill His nets more than we could do in the shallow end.

We had to leave the familiar town, jobs, and family support systems we knew. In fact, just to make sure we didn’t get cold feet, the Lord pushed us into the deep. He took away the security of the familiar, forcing us to step out in the move He had placed on our hearts. We left a failing business in search of better employment, but that doesn’t mean we could see the bottom. The deep can be murky. Faith keeps you swimming.

We traveled a thousand miles with a pickup truck of suitcases, and a reservation at an extended stay hotel. It was the size of our previous living room, and the rent almost three times our mortgage back home!

I questioned, “how could this be God’s Plan?!!”

But still He whispered, “let out into the deep.”

Y’all, I had scoured the internet prior to leaving for Florida and I couldn’t find anywhere to house a family of five within our budget. The housing assistance with my travel company was no help. They quoted me a $13,000 bill for a three month lease with what they found! No one wanted to do a short lease, or they were charging more than I could afford. It was so much more/worse than I had bargained for, and after another fruitless day I had broken down into hopeless tears. I couldn’t for the life of me fix this particular problem, and that’s when I knew deep down in my Spirit that I had to stop trying.

So, we had left our home with no concrete housing solution. We had enough money in the bank (from selling all of our possessions) to last in that hotel maybe a month. Still we put out deep. We knew that’s where we would net what God had for us.

Have you ever experienced one of those crazy coincidences, like, where one step leads to another? I don’t believe in luck or coincidences, but I do believe in a faithful God. Within a week and a half of housing my family in little more than a broom closet, in the worst section of downtown Orlando, God led me in one specific direction for a housing solution. Of the thirty people I emailed, one replied. She replied to tell me she couldn’t accommodate us, but she did have a suggestion of someone who might could. That suggestion led us to not only a bigger space, but one that was in a safe area, in a gated community, at 1/4 of the price we had been paying, with our own yard and a community pool. I had exhausted every ounce of what I knew to do, but God led us exactly to what we needed. And it ended up being better than anything we could have manufactured on our own.

Many times God has exactly the answer we need. He has the exact solution to our dilemma, but He cannot present His solution until we put out into the deep. He cannot throw us a lifesaver until we leave the safety of the shore. We’re crying for a catch, but we’re refusing to let down our net. We’re not happy with splashing around in the kiddie pool, yet we’re afraid to cross the rope into the deep end.

He’s saying, “let down into the deep.”

We weren’t happy, you see. Back then. We weren’t happy with the way things were, we wanted something different, and we wanted God to lead us to new things. But we were also hesitant.

We’ve been fishing all night and haven’t caught a thing!

That’s what Simon said. But then he remembered what He knew about Jesus. He decided, well, if He says do it, then I’ll do it. I’ll let my nets out again, but deeper this time. I’ll trust that what He instructs me to do will work, even though I’ve already done everything I know to do.

Y’all, God is still calling us deeper. Each day we become aware of more areas of our life where we’ve been trying to do it on our own, but it hasn’t been netting the results we desire. We’re realizing that we have to keep putting out into the deep. It’s still scary, but the thing is, we’ve seen the kind of fisherman Jesus is. He does it for pleasure and for the fruit. He gets joy from the harvest. When you let down where He leads, trusting His instruction and provision, the result is always more than your boat can hold!

This post alone cannot hold all the specific, miraculous instances where God provided for us financially, protected us physically, or sustained us emotionally through the last two years. It’s been amazing, and subsequently we’ve become stronger swimmers. Listen, I’m not saying you have to follow our lead, sell all your possessions, and take off to new places. But I am suggesting this. If you’ve been praying for a change or asking God for something in particular, and you’re just not seeing any result, perhaps ask yourself if He is calling you to let out into the deep. Ask yourself if He is calling you to trust Him deeper, get to know Him further, seek Him at new depths, or simply to stop thrashing about in the waves like He’s not able to save you. The thing is, when Jesus tell you to put out deep, you need to be ready to drop your net.

Is Satan Stealing Our Marriages?

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This morning I sat outside sipping hot coffee while a cool (but not too cold breeze) stirred the air. My husband and children still slept, and per usual I had awoken a bit before them so I might enjoy some quiet time before our day began. We had made plans to go swimming at a natural spring, and I knew the task of packing up for a day away awaited me. There would be suits to track down, dry clothes to pack, and of course, food for the day. Feeding a family of five at a snack bar got pricey, so bringing our own grub was a must. I’d need cold drinks to keep everyone hydrated, and I wondered if we should blow up and haul our own innertube?

Another breeze blew over me, refreshing, nice, and the Hebrew word ruach entered my mind. Wind, breath, the very spirit of God, it blew on me and I felt peace, contentment, satisfaction. “I could sit here all day,” I whispered, and by the time my husband woke up I had decided to do just that. He was quick to agree, and just like that we dropped the well-intentioned plans we had made for the day.

Have you ever noticed how plans play out? Especially with small children? You spend a large amount of time creating fun ideas, creating the best environment for those ideas, and struggling to have them play out just as you envisioned. Which never happens. We’ve forgotten how to be still, and we’ve forgotten how to enjoy simple. And it’s just one more thing that the enemy is using to drive a wedge between a husband and wife.

How many expensive vacations end in exhaustion? An empty savings account, a stressed out mind, and the silent treatment. We’re a very mobile generation, always on the move, and we expect as much from our family as we do our internet provider.

Hurry up! Come on! Let’s go. We’re running out of time!

Wives are on edge, and husbands are at the end of their rope. You see, both are working very hard to create a picture perfect life, one that Instagram would be proud of.

“I’m making memories,” we proclaim.

But at what cost, I wonder?

Overtime. Husbands and wives both working full-time to support a family is commonplace, and while I’ll be the first to admit that this world today is crazy expensive, I’ll also be the first to confess that it isn’t as pricey as we create it. We are the ones who decide our homes must be a certain size. We need the fourth bedroom and downstairs half-bath. We gotta have more than one vehicle, and it needs to be something reliable. Minivan? Yuck. No thanks. A Suburban, please. We work to buy the stuff we don’t need, and as our square footage grows, so does our work week. Cha-Ching.

But one thing is for sure. We do it for our children. They need the absolute best. They need the dance class, drama camp, and tumbling too. All of the above, please. Sign us up!

I’ll volunteer to chaperone the field trip. Hubby can coach little league on the weekends. Games on Sunday? No problem.

We pull an extra shift at work to purchase new uniforms, use that credit card for the nicer pair of cleats. Johnny says all the other kids are wearing the name-brand ones, and you don’t want him to feel left out or get bullied.

Homework. Oh my goodness, the homework those kids bring in the door. You yell too much, and then you feel guilty. You know your son is just tired from staying up late due to that extended basketball practice, and waking up early to drive across town to his exclusive private school.

Somewhere in between the late nights, running errands after practice, overtime at the office for next year’s Disney trip, and squeezing in a quick WalMart trip for another Reading Fair project, you manage to squeeze in a date night. You sit at a dark booth, both of you with your heads in your phone, and you wonder when life will slow down.

Was it always this hard?! They say it’s easier after the kids leave home, but then you think of all your parent’s friends who got divorced once empty nesters. Did they run out of stuff to talk about? You can certainly relate. I mean, what’s there to discuss once the conversation doesn’t center around the children, where they’re going and what achievement they just won? What happened to people staying in love forever? Maybe true love doesn’t exist anymore.

Or perhaps we’ve just changed our investment strategies. Maybe our focus isn’t on our marriages. I think we’re too overwhelmed to feed into that relationship. We’ve become complacent in our comfortable life as roommates, partners in parenting, and financial assistant roles. We assume our marriage will thrive without watering, with plans to feed into it later. There’s just no time!

I wonder if we create our overloaded schedules? Is it our boss insisting we work late, or are we the cause? We can’t face our spouse that we forgot how to talk to. We can’t face another conversation about the kids’ future. The stress and worry is too much, and overtime seems like a pleasant option.

I wonder if we create our debt? We need 3000 square feet! We need a trip to the coast! We need a closet so packed the doors won’t close, and a cupboard so full of processed food we can make on the fly! We need Maui, a newer cell phone, and of course, more toys. Toys to keep the children entertained, but also toys to keep each other happy. It fills the silence, you know.

We are so focused on raising the best children on the block. We are so focused on appearances. We are so focused on bigger, better, and more. We’ve gotten so good at being busy; we consider it a badge of honor. We’ve gotten so concerned with keeping up with what everyone else is doing. We’ve gotten so used to being stressed out that we think it’s normal. We medicate with wine, and we overindulge in our favorite vices. We’re too tired for sex, too exhausted to just sit and talk. We keep waiting for life to slow down, never understanding that we set the pace.

Husbands and wives become opponents instead of teammates. Marriage becomes a contest to see who contributes the most to the family unit. We become bitter, expecting our spouse to give us a reprieve, even though we ourselves have created our own chaos.

Parents forget that children don’t come first! Kids plot parents against one another, having learned early on that we allow it. We spend thousands of dollars a year on things our children don’t need, and we invest even more in a college fund to the most prestigious university. Never once do we invest in our relationship with our spouse.

But date night, you say. We have that!

Ahh, yes, the two hours alone, where you’re both too exhausted from work to do much more than lift a heavy fork to your silent mouth. That sounds lovely.

We have removed fathers from the head of the family, and we’ve replaced them with our darling child. They rule the roost. We even joke about it on Facebook. Isn’t it so cute how sassy my little diva is?!

We’ve placed our work above our families. We’ve given it to coaches and teachers to handle. Yet when something falls apart, our spouse will be the one we attack.

We’ve dropped going to church together on Sunday. It’s seriously the only day we can sleep in. Saturday is packed with extracurriculars. We’re too tired to pray together before bed, and we can’t seem to find the time to instruct our children with the Bible. They already have so much homework as it is!

But then we wonder why our children don’t respect us? We wonder why our spouse is so short-tempered.

What about our quiet time with God? Well, it’s been a while. We planned to do that today, but there was too much to do before we left the house. The house with the crazy, high mortgage, that we spend very little time in other than to sleep five hours a night.

We make excuses.

If only my husband would help out more around the house.

If only my wife would try to understand I have needs.

We’ll work this out tomorrow. I’m exhausted tonight.

One silent day leads to another, and leads to another. We find ourselves living together but feeling alone. We raise children together but exist in silence, an invisible space separating us. We make it so easy for Satan to destroy the foundation of marriage. He uses our busyness to keep us from communicating. He uses our selfishness to increase our anger. He uses our coveting and comparison to keep us working harder for more of what we don’t need. He uses our obsession with the educational excellence of our children to keep us away from time with one another. He uses our preoccupation with our cell phones, tablets, and social media accounts to keep us from making God’s Word a part of our everyday lives. He brings sin into our homes slowly, so slowly that we barely recognize it. We’re sure the movies we watch, books we read, or websites we visit in secret aren’t harming our relationships.

But I’m of the belief that we must take back our families from the enemy. We must claim our right to a happy, healthy relationship like God intended. We have to take back our time. We can’t become confused by what the world says is important. We can’t believe the lies the enemy tells us to focus on. We have to stop investing into the world and get back to investing in love. We can’t spend the majority of our life away from our families, but then wonder why they’re falling apart. We have to stop investing so much in the materialistic aspects of our home, yet neglecting the lasting flesh and blood that resides therein. We gotta stop keeping up with the Joneses and start keeping up with God’s will for our families.

God created marriage, and He didn’t just make it so we’d have someone to help us with the dishes. He didn’t create this covenant with arguments over who forgot to buy toilet paper in mind. He didn’t place us together to run ourselves ragged with busy schedules and overwhelming responsibilities. He created marriage to mirror His covenant with us, and on the day we finally become His bride, do you think He’ll be too busy running the angels to soccer practice to sit down at the banquet table with us? Do you think He’ll be too tired to talk or too overwhelmed by His day of miracles to hold us?

And here’s a thought. Our children are watching us. They are creating their idea of marriage based on our example. What type of husband are you modeling for your daughter’s future expectations? What kind of wife are you showing your son to build a life with? Do you know how Satan is stealing our marriages? Through us! We are eagerly breaking down the future foundation of marriage by our poor example, and our complacence and neglect is pushing our own spouse further and further away. It shouldn’t be so.

We have to take back our marriages before it’s too late. We have to reclaim our time so we can invest it where it is needed most. We have to take our eyes off other relationships and focus them in our own backyard. We have to let Dad lead the family. We have to stop competing. We have got to quit going and going! We have to be still! We have to sit quiet and let the ruach blow over our marriages. We’ll never feel it if we’re too busy striving for more. You have to be still to truly feel the wind blow. We have to stop handing the enemy our family on a golden platter. We have to take back what God has given us. We have to open our eyes to the gift of our spouse, just as God made them, and stop trying to make them into someone else. We have to take time to appreciate our partner. We have to trade in our badge of busy for the soothing silk of stillness. Only in simplicity can we truly see how blessed we are.

So I suppose the question is this. God has given us marriage. Will you make the pledge to take it back from the enemy today?

When Your Enemy Means You Harm

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I recently had a situation where someone wished to harm me. They had nothing to gain from me by their actions, and the only result of their jabs at me and my family would be their own pleasure. I believe you call that malicious, or perhaps vindictive. Regardless, I called it done. Despite this person’s attempt to cause us emotional and physical harm, we were unbothered. I’ll be honest; I’m pretty sure for a few minutes I wanted to be upset and worried, but I didn’t stay in that place. Thank God, I was able to abide in His truth.

Romans 8:31 What, then, shall we say in response to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?

It’s easy to become tussled by our enemies. I have met plenty of people in my life who let the devil use them to do evil, and if we allow it, the attack can not just be physical, but also mental. We can become burdened by their efforts to cause us strife, and we can forget who holds our lives in His hands. It’s ok, we all lose sight. I’ve found humans are a forgetful bunch, but last night I received a wonderful reminder of God’s goodness to us, especially when we are in great need, and I wanted to share it with you.

Have you ever read the book of Esther? It’s a short book, but packed with tons of good stuff. One thing especially stuck out to me as I read it last night. In the book, Haman is a high official to King Xerxes, and Haman decides he wants to kill a Jew by the name of Mordecai. Haman is so excited for his plan of murder he even builds a gallows by which to hang poor Mordecai. Haman is an important fellow, but Mordecai follows the one true God. So watch what God does.

King Xerxes is in bed battling insomnia and decides, out of nowhere, to read a book that keeps record of his kingdom (it does sound like good sleepy-time material). In this book he’s reminded of how a guy named Mordecai outed some bad guys who wished the king harm.

Xerxes is like, “dang. That Mordecai is a good dude. I need to honor him!”

The next day in comes Haman. He’s all pumped to tell the king about his plan to hang this fella, but the king interrupts his idea with a question of his own.

“Haman,” the king asks, “how should I honor a man who really needs accolades for his service?”

Of course, Haman thinks the king is talking about him, and full of pride he suggests a parade through the city in royal duds.

Boy was he surprised when the king said, “great idea! You drive the chariot tomorrow to honor Mordecai!”

Can you imagine his face?!

Here you have the ultimate enemy of Mordecai. He wants him dead. He plans out the details. He’s basically already dug the grave for Mordecai. But God! God had different plans. What Haman meant for harm, God turned to good. Only our God can turn a death sentence into a parade in your honor!

So, whatever enemy you face today, whatever battle you find yourself in, try and remember Mordecai. The same God who saved his life is also fighting for you! God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. And He loves His children with an unconditional, all-consuming love. He will move mountains for you. He can certainly handle a bit of malicious intent.

In my own situation, I am still dealing with the repercussions of my enemy’s attacks, but I am not beaten. I stand strong in what God can do. In fact, I’m excited to see how He works it all for our good.

How Do You Give It to God?!

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How in the world do you give it to God?!

Have you heard that before?!

You’re having a terribly stressful situation. It’s one of those times where you feel like you’re drowning, and there’s no buoy in sight. You know that God is in control. You know because that’s what everyone says! In fact, if you do reach out for guidance or share your plight with your Facebook friends, at least one person will say it.

“We’re praying for you, honey! Just give it to God!”

Ok. Great. Now, how do I do that again?

I think this was always one of those things in my Christian walk that kind of bothered me. Early on I asked more mature Christians the same question. Like, how? And most of the time I was told to just surrender.

“Brie, literally throw your hands up in the air and say, I can’t do it alone, God!” A friend suggested.

And yeah, that’s true. I mean, God certainly hears you, and He even answers. Things improve, it seems, after that outward expression of your innermost heart desire, but inevitably it creeps back. What I mean is, you can surrender your anxiety to Jesus on Tuesday, but by Saturday something else may rear its ugly head and the next thing you know, you’re anxious again.

Ugh, I thought I gave this to God! What gives?!

So, I sought that answer too, and I was told more good advice.

“Brie, surrender is something you have to do more than once,” my mentor said. “Sometimes, it’s a daily practice.”

And you know what? She was right about that too.

Okay, so you’re saying I need to just go on and tell God I’m giving it to Him. Check.

Then, I’ll need to do that many times over throughout my life. Gotcha.

But, do you know what else I’ve discovered? It’s taken me some time, but I have realized that giving it to God takes a lot more.

For one, it’s easy to say you surrender a situation with your words, but actually carrying that through in your head is a horse of a different color. You know what I mean. You’re sitting there minding your own business, certain that God’s got this, when suddenly you hear a little whisper of a thought. It’s a soft whisper at first.

It says something like, “but what if it doesn’t work out?”

And then the whisper gets a little louder. So you think about it some more. And it gets louder and louder. Before you know it the drumming of your heart in your ears competes with the urgent cry in your head.

“You’re going to fail,” it exclaims!

The terrible “what if’s” plague you, and you’re under its thumbnail. You know God’s got this, but what if?

What if it’s not God’s will?

Maybe He’s trying to teach me something.

Maybe I did something wrong.

Maybe this is my hard lesson.

Before you know it you’re riddled with anxiety, dread, shame, and a yucky feeling in the pit of your stomach. It manifests with physical symptoms. Headache, acid reflux, high blood pressure, insomnia, weight loss, or perhaps weight gain.

Hey, wait a minute! Didn’t I give this to God?! I must not have done it right.

You did. But I’ve discovered that us humans don’t like giving stuff away. Like, we’re major hoarders. It’s against our nature to give something away, even if it’s a problem we want to be rid of. We want to hang on to it so we can fix it, and only when we realize we can’t fix it, do we give it away! But even then, as our hands of surrender are raised high, we feel like we’re missing something. So in that empty place, we fill it. It has to be filled! Sadly, it’s typically filled with thoughts from the enemy. Remember, it’s not flesh and blood we battle. Yep, it’s the enemy who fills us with the anxious what-if’s. So it’s our job to fill that vacant place of surrender with something else.

I’ve found that the act of truly giving it to God is three-fold.

First, yes, you surrender. We got that part. God is good.

Second, you must fill the vacant place where your problem resided in your mind prior to surrender. And the only thing that will fill it right is God’s truth. Y’all, you have to read the Bible. You have to! It’s the key to surrender. Because once you give your trouble to God, the devil is going to get mad. He’s going to attack you. He’s going to attack your thoughts, and you have to hit back with truth.

You have to know scripture back and forth so when the anxious thoughts come you’ll recognize them as a lie.

You’ll be able to stand firm and say, “wait, that doesn’t sound like God.”

Nowhere in the Bible does He say it’s just your lot in life, that life sucks, or you have bad luck. Nowhere. You have to speak truth to combat lies. You speak them out loud, you repeat them to yourself daily, you speak them over your life first thing in the morning before you even feel an attack. You prepare yourself for battle.

Then… you rest. You rest in His truth. Lies come, you kill them with truth, and rest in your surrender. This is the third and final piece, and resting doesn’t just mean being still. You’ll still have to fight with truth as attacks come, but to rest is to abide. It means you live in a state of believing what you’re proclaiming.

You read the truth, you memorize the truth, you repeat the truth. You repeat it over and over until it becomes passive like breathing. You exist, breathing in and out this truth, wearing it like your favorite hoodie. It becomes so engrained in your very center that it’s not just words; it’s the very sustenance of your life. It’s the meat, and you chew on it until it sticks to your bones. That way, despite if attacks come, you’re not frantically fighting them off. Instead you’re resting in the truth of Jesus that has already won the war. If that doesn’t make you want to jump and shout hallelujah then I don’t know what will!

Bottom line, friends. Giving it to God comes down to abiding in the victory Christ has already obtained for you. Spoiler alert… the devil doesn’t win. Anxiety doesn’t win. Depression doesn’t win. We just lose sight of that, sometimes, and that’s ok. There’s still room at the victory table, and getting a seat there starts with surrender. It’s followed by digging in and equipping yourself with God’s word. Then it’s topped off (it is finished, see what I did there) with abiding in His truth that your are in Him, and He is in you. That, my friends, is giving it to God.

When You Feel Like God Has Forgotten You

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“She was scared at first,” I told my husband.

I walked towards the lounge chair he had saved for me, while my six year old ran off to find her sisters. My middle child and I had just rode a lazy river ride together while the rest of the family went on to another wading pool with mini water slides.

“What in the world did she have to be afraid of?” he asked in exasperation.

I thought about how the water rushed rapidly as we had approached it, walking down the narrow aisle with rails on each side, a stack of people behind us, making it difficult to turn around even if you wanted to.

She had spoke softly, “I’m scared,” while gnawing nervously on a chunk of her wet, blond hair.

I had explained to her that I was there, and that I wouldn’t let anything bad happen to her. I relayed this to my husband as we sat poolside afterwards.

“I’ll be holding you the whole time,” I had encouraged her.

My husband shook his head incredulously as I retold the conversation with our middle daughter.

“I don’t think they understand the lengths we would go to to protect them,” my husband mused.

I replied, “now we know how God must feel.”

God tells us over and over in His Word, the Bible, that He will protect us.

“Be still.”

“Fear not.”

“I will never leave you.”

“I uphold you.”

“Don’t be anxious about your life.”

“Cast your anxieties on me.”

“Behold, I am with you.”

“I will strengthen you, I will help you.”

“The Lord is near to the broken-hearted.”

“The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want.”

“In this world you will have trouble, but take heart, I have overcome the world.”

“The hairs of your head are numbered.”

“I am the good shepherd, I lay down my life for my sheep.”

As a parent, I can tell my daughters again and again not to be afraid. I won’t let anything happen to them. I would die to protect them. They know this is true! Yet…

How often do I feel like a timid child, a small, soft-spoken six year old that a stiff wind could blow down? I, too, know my Heavenly Father will protect me. Yet…

When the scary current threatens to take me into deep waters.

When the illnesses come with age.

When the bank account dwindles and there’s not enough money to go around.

When people hurt me.

When my enemies come against me.

When I cannot see His face.

Twenty years ago God gave me a vision, and in this vision I was a small, towheaded wisp of a child, similar in appearance to my petite six year old now. In my vision I ran across a large field of green grass. My ABBA Father watched me from the porch of our farmhouse. He watched as I ran farther and farther from the safety of the house. I imagined I must be like a tiny, barely visible dot at the perimeter of the yard. I reached the fence, but that didn’t stop me. Still I ran. At some point I tripped over something and I fell. Tears ran down my cheeks as I looked at the bloody mess I had made of my knee. I was all alone, hurt, and it was my fault. I think I cried as much for the pain of my own heart as I did the ache in my knee. When suddenly a large hand reached for mine. It was Him. Papa.

He helped me up, He brushed the dirt off me, and He lovingly placed a bandage on my knee.

“How did you find me, Daddy?” I asked. “I was so far from home.”

“I was always with you,” He answered softly.

I wish I could tell you that after that, in my own life as an adult, that I never left Papa’s front yard. I wish I could say I didn’t hop the fence. Most of all, I wish I could say I never fell again, but I cannot. I still fall; some just harder than others. What I can say is this. Even at a point in my life when I fell the hardest, and when I was the farthest away, when I called His name I heard the answer.

“I am here.”

Never forgotten, never abandoned, loved beyond what I deserved.

This morning as I prayed about life, fending off melancholy over an area of life where I felt I had failed and fallen short, I felt the Lord speak.

“You know, sometimes what the world may call falling, I simply call redirection.”

If indeed I believed that the paths God laid down for me were the ones that succeeded, then I had to know His redirection was always for my good. And in life when I felt like I had fallen, He was always there with a big, comforting hand, soothing balm for my hurts, and a gentle voice of truth that said, “this way, child.”

Falling doesn’t mean forgotten. As children of God we feel like when we fail God is absent, sitting up high on a cloud, smirking over the idiocy of His creation. We cower under fear of this cruel world because we think we are alone. We assume Dad has left us to our own devices. We see the fast current, hear the rushing sound of water, and we are afraid, even when He is right there beside us. It’s human nature.

But aren’t you glad He patiently encourages us, over and over again, like you would a child?

“Do not be afraid. I am here.”