Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

Interceding for Our World: Part II

by 2 Comments

If you missed part one, I’ll include the link here. I have continued to pray in the Spirit, by God’s leading, for things I don’t even know until I pray. It’s come to my attention that some brothers and sisters are praying along with me, so I wanted to catch you up on my prayer time. I guess you could call this a prayer log.

4/2/20 Prayers in the Spirit

I saw a massive crowd of people. They were on their knees bowing in surrender and worshipping the Lord. They were of one voice, one Spirit, one heart, joined in one purpose, to exalt the King. They worship in sync and in joy. Their hearts joined powerfully in the Spiritual Realm giving power to the One. I saw His Spirit come down on His people, like the day of Pentecost. Nations of believers joined for one purpose, in Spirit and truth, loving the King.

4/3/20

This morning was a little painful and emotional as I felt like I was interceding for the fallen world as a whole, again. As if I stood in the gap pleading for mercy. A world that deserves fire and damnation, yet children who cry out to the Father for His love. Isn’t that what we’re all missing? I had heard a song this morning with the lyrics singing, “a second chance is Heaven’s heart,” and that was my heart this morning. It’s also the heart of the Father.

John 3:17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. I cling to the truth of His word, and I sing the banner of His loving mercy over our land.

4/4/20

While praying this morning I felt like it was in a Spirit of worship. I was worshipping an unchanging God. One whose word stands forever. A Father who is the same today, yesterday, and forever. His love is constant. We are the ones who waver. As I prayed I saw a grassy plain, and rippling over it a banner (perhaps similar to images you’ve seen of a waving American flag), but instead of Stars and Stripes, it was a rainbow banner. The color of God’s covenant. Although originally a covenant to not destroy by flood, I felt the covenant still stood. That our God would not destroy us from the earth. His banner, His unchanging covenant, covers us today.

4/6/20

I see reports of grim circumstances coming our way as a country, death numbers exceeding what has come thus far, tragedy to compare to the worst disasters we, or our grandparents have ever seen. I’m not surprised now for the prayers I prayed today.

Today in prayer I proclaimed our God as the solid rock. Unwavering, unmovable, a strong foundation upon which we could stand as we tried to climb out of the pit of despair. I pictured a man climbing a mountain. The mountain was God, and as long as the climber found firm footing on that solid rock beneath him, he did not fall.

I saw a vineyard, and the Lord said, “become grafted into me. Become part of my vine, and I will nourish you. My strong roots will feed you, giving you everything you need to bear fruit.”

Later I took a bicycle ride, and I prayed some more. I could feel Him in the breeze in my hair. I could feel His love in the sun that warmed my arms. He was everywhere. He is everywhere. He is the only thing that is sure right now.

I don’t know about projections. I mean, I have my opinions, and I have felt for some time that this will not be like man predicts. The breath of God in Hebrew is Ruach, and my husband and I believe His Ruach will blow across the land taking the virus with it. We could be wrong, but I don’t have to know. I don’t have to make predictions or projections because I serve the King of the Universe, and He is the rock on which I stand. If I were to die today, I would still live. What can trump that?

I guess I’m trying to say, don’t focus on the noise of the world. Focus instead on the rock.

4/7/20

Today I felt as if my prayers were a sonnet, a romantic song serenading the lover of my soul.

I saw a couple dancing, spinning, laughing, heads thrown back in abandon and joy.

“My love for you,” the Lord said, “it cannot be fathomed.”

It’s a love like no other, a love that cannot be compared. It’s a love free for the taking, yet a love that gives and gives. It’s a love that separation cannot even defeat. You see, sin tried to separate us from His love, but He wasn’t having it. He gave of Himself, His own son, His own life, a ransom, paid in full for His bride.

For me.

For you.

This is a love that isn’t swayed by disease, poverty, or uncertainty. If you can call out to this love, and ask Him to bring you an understanding of it, you will laugh in the face of a current world that’s gone mad. You can rest in the peace of His love, you can walk through each day bravely in the shelter of His love, and you can hope for the future in the illuminating light of His love. Nothing can separate us from it.

Romans 8:38-39 (NIV)

38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[a] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

As I prayed I said, “oh, Lord, let the earth, let them all know this kind of love!!”

And He answered, “that is what I’m doing.”

I hope you will join me in this frequent intercession, and together we can worship a very good Father who knows our every need. May we, the Saints, link spiritual arms, and hold spiritual hands to pray for our planet, to pray for the souls therein, and to pray for God’s will here on earth, as it is in heaven.

Who Do You Say I Am? A Guide to Victory in Pandemic.

by 8 Comments

Easter is quickly approaching, and it seems we’ll still be under social distancing at that time. I know for many Christians they may have never spent an Easter Sunday not in church, and I was reminded this morning of an Easter Sunday I spent at the hospital bedside years ago. I recall being disappointed that I wasn’t in the house of God that holiday, and it was then that the Lord spoke something very strongly to my heart.

He said, my resurrection lives in you.

With all the happenings globally as of late, I am reminded of His Spirit at work in us. And with all the common reactions to this pandemic, I am reminded of some lyrics I heard in a song recently.

It said, God isn’t hard to find.

I suppose that seems way off base to many people, especially lately. After all, so many times God seems silent. When tragedy strikes, like now, He can especially seem distant. But when I heard those lyrics the other morning I was hit by the truth of it. You see, God isn’t hard to find. It’s just hard for us to do the locating. We’re too distracted by the world to realize that He is here with us all along.

It’s not hard to see the fear out there. It’s not hard to feel it yourself. I realized after a four day stretch at the hospital bedside that I was overwhelmed with the very realness of all this. I was inundated with COVID-19 statistics, the ever-changing instructions for how to deal with it all. Uncertain and evolving information from the CDC and those in power above me made my head spin. I discovered pretty quickly that I had to be intentional in my time with Jesus, because everything else vying for my focus was pretty intense. Not only were the worries of having enough food to eat there, or how the economy would suffer, but also the real threat of taking home a dangerous illness to my family.

This morning, and last night, I was drawn to the book of Matthew. I read it before bed, but also again this morning,

Matthew 16:15-16 (NIV)

15 “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

16 Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

As Easter approaches I’m reminded of the days leading up to the Crucifixion. Jesus enters Jerusalem with much fanfare and praise, the crowds singing and proclaiming Him a king. Yet five days later the same words of “King of the Jews,” were used to find Him guilty and sentenced to death. Public opinion was a shifty one, indeed, and it’s in Matthew 16 we see Jesus gently leading Peter to the realization that it’s not what the crowd says that matters.

Who do you say I am?

This is becoming a question that Jesus asks us all. Who is the Lord to us during such a time as this? Is He an angry God, distant, pouring a plague on His people, only to forget them as they suffer? Or is He the Messiah, the Savior of the world?

In the midst of COVID-19 and the fallout of this pandemic, it’s hard not to be afraid. We see the news, the growing numbers of infected, and of course, the personal stories and accounts coming from those working in the thick of this illness. Some of us see dwindling bank balances and empty cupboards. Others see plummeting stocks, or death up close and personal. I’m reminded again of our dear disciple Peter. He knew, before it all went down, that Jesus was the Son of God. He spoke it out loud in faith, yet we all remember what happened before the cock crowed three times. He denied Jesus. It’s a disappointing turn of events in scripture, yet Jesus still fulfilled what He spoke in Matthew 16. He still built the church on the rock that was Peter. That’s good news for us!

When Jesus spoke about building the church, with a mere man who He knew would deny Him down the road, He spoke this.

The gates of Hell will not overcome it!

Today, we face the straining of Hell coming against us. A spirit of death and sickness come in a virus form, and a spirit of fear tries to make us deny (or forget) the power of our God, but Jesus promises that evil does not win. It can not overcome us!

Another verse comes to me as I write this post.

Psalm 121:1-2 (NIV)

I lift up my eyes to the hills– where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.

As believers, we can find God. It’s not hard, after all. He is here in us. He has not forgotten us, and actually has promised our victory. He doesn’t want us in fear, denying the power He gives us to overcome problems, but He does still provide us victory, knowing we will have our doubts. Today, I would remind you to ask of yourself the same question that Jesus asked Peter.

Who do you say I am?

Is He the rising infection rates or empty store shelves? Is He the dwindling economy or uncertain future? Is He the depressing news reports or scary Facebook posts? No! None of this is a surprise or uncertain to our God. He is the Messiah, the Savior of the world, the Great I Am, and He will! Be encouraged.

Three Things God Says About COVID-19

by 22 Comments

Nothing brings character out quite like crisis. You will see some of the most courageous people charge into a burning building, but sadly, you will also see the ones who knock down the weak, trampling them to escape calamity. You will see people who instill fear, take advantage of a bad situation, yet also the helpers, the ones who pick up the fallen, serve the weak, despite their own trepidation, and give more than they take. I would like to think that all followers of Jesus fall into only one of the above mentioned categories, but sadly we all can fall to fear, panic, and survival of the fittest. Yet, in a time of chaos and uncertainty, I believe God calls His children to a deeper level of trust in Him. So, consider this a friendly reminder, to all of us who profess the faith, to follow the commands God has put forth for us in His word.

Without further ado, here are three things God is telling us amidst COVID-19.

1. Stay home! I want to put this as best as I can. I completely understand the fear of losing financial resources. I totally do. Most of us don’t have a huge savings built up, but I’m trying to encourage a kingdom mindset amongst all of this. I want my brothers and sisters out there to try and see this situation as an opportunity to grow deeper in dependence and relationship with Jesus, to not fear the waves that come, but trust the one who controls the storms. It’s not the boat that will save you; it’s the One who controls the ocean. He will provide.

Also, let’s think about what’s important. Is it staying current on bills or human life? Trust me as a healthcare provider on the frontline of this. It’s serious. People are dying. Maybe not you, the healthy twenty-something, but you can be without symptoms at the beginning of the virus and pass it along to people you do care about. Your grandparents, your friend’s immune compromised child. Life will always trump bank balance.

Then there’s this little nugget.

Romans 13:1-2 (NIV)

Submission to Governing Authorities

13 Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. 2 Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves.

Please trust the experts in disease transmission on this. Let’s not listen to that mom in your private Facebook group.

I won’t say I believe every word from a politician’s mouth or especially the news, but I do obey the authorities God has placed over me. Our government has given very clear and strong recommendations, and a large number of people are still ignoring the highly educated, well established plans to slow the spread of this virus. You are hurting others, you are hurting yourself, and you are disobeying more than the president you don’t like. You’re disobeying scripture. Let’s humble ourselves under the authority God has placed over us, trust that His plans will prevail, and stay home! I’m a nurse and a Christian. I trust medical science, but above all my Savior. God has given us healthcare and healthcare providers with the knowledge to save us. Let’s trust that God-given wisdom that says staying home will keep this from getting bigger than our hospitals and medical supplies can handle. Please.

2. Stop hoarding food! I have had friends inquire of my family, if we have enough. Since we started living in an RV we have limited space for storage period. Our fridge is small, our pantry also. We can store about enough for a week for our family of five, and that means frequent grocery trips. This past week I went shopping after a twelve hour shift at the hospital bedside, and as most of you know, the shelves were bare. Yet as I made my way through the aisles I always found one to two of every item I needed, even if it wasn’t my typical brand. By the way, I only took one, leaving the other for the next person.

Matthew 6:25-27 (NIV)

Do Not Worry

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

I’m reminded of the Israelites in the desert. God provided enough manna for each day. Some tried to take more and keep it for the next day, but He caused it to spoil. He wanted them to understand that He was their provider, and they could trust Him to give exactly what they needed. I’ll bet there’s a lot of people today who may end up throwing out some food they bought in over abundance, never realizing that God wanted to show them what He could give them.

Jesus came showing us how to be servants, showing us that the first would be last, and the last first. He saw people in need and He fed them. Never once did He hold onto what God had given Him and not share with the rest. He didn’t take all the fish and bread from the little boy and split it with His disciples. He thanked God for the little He had, then God multiplied that gratitude to feed five thousand. Imagine the blessings we are missing out on because instead of thanking God for what we’ve been given that we need, we’re taking more than enough right out of the hands of the hungry. It’s going to rot.

2 Timothy 1:7 ESV

For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.

Don’t let fear drive your actions. I love my family, and I feel the need to take care of them. I understand that you want to get your family what they need, but stop and consider the fact that fear is driving you to load up a shopping cart with sixteen cases of water and twelves packs of toilet paper.

Which leads us to the third yet biggest commandment He’s speaking during this time.

3. Do not fear!

I say it again. Do. Not. Fear. There’s a reason this is the most repeated phrase in scripture. You see, fear is from the devil, and fear is a liar. Is all this kinda scary? You betcha butt! I am walking into a lockdown, negative air pressure, isolation, COVID-19 unit at work. Tons of healthcare providers around the country are doing this. If we let fear rule our actions, we would shut them all in a room and let nature take its course, but no, we go in and provide the very best, life-saving care we can. Are we afraid of catching the virus, or perhaps spreading it to our family? Of course! But we don’t let fear dominate and rule our actions. The reason the Bible says so frequently not to fear is because God knows we will. Sin has created some really crazy, frightening things out there, but faith in Jesus gives us a mode to combat fear and not let it rule our hearts and lives. He has overcome all evil, and COVID is no different. Even death has lost its sting, y’all. I serve a creator who gives eternal life, and the gift He offers is bigger than the most fatal of diseases.

Do you think this surprises God? Do you think He is as shocked as we all are by the death toll in Italy? No!

Psalm 139:16 ESV

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.

God knows beginning to end. He knew this was coming, and He knows how it will end. He knows the solution. He knows the good that will come from this. What the enemy means for evil, God will turn to our good. We have a tendency to forget that.

God is whispering amongst the chaos,

come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. I will give you peace. I do not give as the world gives. Take comfort, for I have overcome the world. There it is. Do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wasteland and streams in the desert. Hope like a river, it flows to those who trust in me. Do not be afraid. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Your foot will not strike the stone. I will rescue you.

If I were to offer any advice during this time of social distancing it would be this. Use this time to read the Bible. Y’all! There’s a wealth of truth and wisdom from the Lord inside those pages. Let them be a healing balm to your worried soul. Let them guide your decisions so that fear doesn’t lead you, but His peace sustains you. Listen to the real expert on what’s happening. Don’t just take my word for it.

The Upper Room

by

I’ve felt such a heaviness for the past few days, and I can’t for the life of me pinpoint why. I think that’s the worst part of it. To feel downtrodden even when from the outside in things look good. To be unable to name the reason for melancholy, it makes it all the more absurd. An unwelcome visitor to your happy home. I wonder if it will always be this way, while I exist in this body? Separated from joy that is so close I can taste it.

For a few days I’ve wanted to write something about the upper room. It’s been dancing on the periphery of my brain, waiting to be put down into words, yet unwilling to escape from the mental chamber keeping it captive. How could I speak of Heavenly things when my heart felt pushed into the dirty earth? Still feeling captive to my flesh, I knew I needed to write it anyway, if only to show myself I could.

I find it no coincidence that in Luke 22 Jesus plans the Passover meal venue, the upper room, and just prior to that, in Chapter 21, He says this.

Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap.

It’s so easy to forget that there’s more for us than next month’s work schedule or a pending dental appointment for the children. Before you know it you’re focusing on the bank balance versus the pending bill stack, or you’re questioning the commitments you’ve plotted in your calendar. You find yourself worrying about the virus the household keeps passing around, or replaying that thing you said to so-and-so, that ridiculous comment you wish you could stuff back into your stupid, gaping mouth. We busy our thoughts with if it’s time to wash the linen, or what theme we should plan for the youngest child’s birthday party. We never once contemplate the upper room.

He has prepared a place. He’s gone ahead of us and made arrangements. A banquet is coming, the likes of which we have never seen, yet we busy ourselves with plans akin to dining at Burger King. The Lord is setting the table for a grand feast, and we are somehow content to catch the scraps of the world where we wait. We forget all about the upper room.

It’s like we have an invitation sitting on our bar. It’s mixed in with grocery store flyers, an exorbitant utility bill, and one of those card stock advertisements with a fake, brand new car key attached. It’s addressed in gold letters, sealed with a blood red stamp, and it’s just waiting to be opened. Each and every day we pass it by. It’s left unopened, forgotten, pushed to the bottom of a stack meant for the trash.

We pass it by in favor of our favorite Netflix series, or rushing to the kitchen table to argue angrily over homework, pressing a dry kiss and sideways hello to our spouse. Tired, worn thin and wore out. We pass the invitation for rest, and we pass it in favor of rush and hurry. We run towards the things of this world that are here today and gone tomorrow.

Have you noticed the things of this world bring us a heap of stress, yet we pursue them with vigor? We think, if only I can hit the deadline. If only I can pay this debt. I just gotta get the kids through school and get this mortgage paid down. Then, maybe things will settle down.

We’re always in eager anticipation, expecting a future of better things. We’re hoping in a time when we won’t struggle so much. We’re waiting for a time when we won’t be so tired, when finances won’t be so tight, or when raising kids will get easier. We cling to dreams of a brighter future with less stress and more bless. We trudge through our season, weary and wondering when we’ll find our better day. We pass by the dusty, forgotten invitation.

There has to be a better way! That’s what we say. It shouldn’t be this hard! We buy self help books, seek advice from a counselor, maybe even beg that lady on Oprah Winfrey’s channel to fix our life! We forget all about the upper room.

Here’s the secret. Here’s the thing we all forget. We don’t have to wait until the feast begins to partake of the hors d’oeuvres. He is preparing the banquet table, but until it’s time to be seated, we can remember that we already have a place set with our names on it. The best five star restaurant in NYC doesn’t compare, and even better, the worst dinner party we throw doesn’t matter. It all falls flat when set beside the upper room.

The invitation that awaits, it’s one that requires our RSVP, and by accepting our individual place of honor, we agree to walk out each day with an air of importance. We can pass through each day throwing off the anxiety of a fading world that falsely vies for our attention, and instead we can say, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to a party. I can’t be bothered by that at the moment. My mind is on the upper room.”

In my time of heaviness the past few days, I am reminded to hold tightly to my invitation. It promises a wonderful feast. I don’t have to falsely hope for better days here on earth. Instead I can know in my heart that better days will come. I can walk each moment, even as my flesh and heart may fail, in joy, knowing that I am a special guest, and a special seat waits for me. Nothing much matters compared to that. He’s preparing a place.

Children get sick and the truck needs new tires, but He’s preparing a place. I feel heavy, sometimes for no reason at all, but I am invited. The world could hate me, but I’d still be invited. Karen could roll her eyes in my direction, and the whole table could talk about me after I walk away. It doesn’t matter. My Father has set a place for me at His table. Bye, Felicia.

But seriously. All the ridiculous things that try to pull me away. The unimportant tasks that try to overwhelm me. The minuscule happenings that attempt to shake me. The inconveniences that mar my day, or the mistakes that make up my past… they can’t hold a candle to what lies ahead. The upper room.

Lord, when my mind wanders to places it doesn’t need to go, remind me of the upper room. When I place my hope in anything other than you, remind me of the upper room. When I’m hurting, remind me of the upper room. When I’m happy and everything is peachy, remind me of the upper room. When I put too much stock in this fast food life, remind me of the banquet you have lavishly prepared. May I never forget the invitation that requires my focus even now. Keep my thoughts always on the upper room. I know that at your table I will never thirst, and most importantly, I will be filled.

Three Things God Has Done for Me

by

I was recently reading a devotional, and in it the author encouraged the reader to make a list of three things God has done in your life. Initially, I laughed to myself. Only three! I mean, God has done more in my life than I could possibly fit on paper. Even a whole notebook. He woke me up in the morning, gave me hot water to shower with, and who could forget about coffee?! Talk about the best invention ever! And that’s just the first hour of my day. How in the world I could just pick three, I didn’t know, but I felt led to try. As I quieted my mind, these three bullets came to me, and I thought I would share them with you.

1. He healed me. Ok, so I could start with how God miraculously healed me of epilepsy. How after a decade-long battle of neurologist visits, medications three times a day, abnormal EEG’s, and debilitating migraines, He took the disease completely, totally, and immediately from me. I could talk about that, but no, it’s more than just a seizure disorder.

I could tell you how He took the pain from my knees, the pain that had been there since my twenties, the messed up knees that a doctor had told me when I was twelve years old would eventually “go out on me.” I could tell you how I carried that curse and constant pain into my forties, but the day I asked for His healing, they never hurt me again. But this is about more than not needing a knee replacement after all.

I could testify to physical healing, of myself, and of my children. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that God isn’t limited to just one kind of healing. He certainly had healed my physical body, but He had also healed the rest of me. If I looked on the outside like I used to feel on the inside, I would resemble an old China doll. The lines of harsh reality had riddled my fragile shell like cracks in aged porcelain. One wrong move and I probably would have shattered to pieces. But God.

My life before the love of Christ was broken. Torn by the pain of rejection, I felt lacking. Twisted by the lies that I was only as good as the people who had left me in life, I felt worth little more than nothing. I felt empty. We’re not made to feel that way, and as such I wasted many years trying to fill myself with anything I could. Anything that would give me some substance, make me feel worthwhile. I sought the approval of man, and I numbed my pain with empty indulgence. I tried to be better, basing my worth on what I could achieve in life. It never felt like enough. It wasn’t until I found the love of Jesus that I could be healed from all the hurt this world had piled upon me.

He healed me from the pain of sin, and He gave me eternal life. He healed me from my past, and He gave me a future. He healed me from rejection, and He adopted me as His own. He healed me from the bondage of slavery, and He gave me real freedom to live life fully and joyfully.

2. He gave me a new identity. I have had several last names in my life. I had the one I was born with, and later, my adoptive dad’s last name. I had my first husband’s last name, and now I have my second husband’s name. I have held many titles in life, some of them I’d rather forget, but others that I’m proud to go by to this day. I love holding the role of wife, mother, nurse, and friend. I’m a writer, a Navy veteran, an encourager, and a singer at times. I’ve been known to be a goofball, a crybaby, and even an outcast. I have been labeled things that make me cringe, and I’ve been called names that made me cry. But do you know what all these things have in common?

They are meaningless.

They are meaningless when held alongside my identity in Christ. Often times in life we can falsely build our worth and self esteem on the titles we possess or roles we play. We think we’re what our last name is, what job we perform, or how well we perform it. We assume we’re what we do, the mistakes we’ve made, or even the things we’ve failed to achieve. We fall to lies that we’re held back by who our family is, genetics, our financial circumstances, where we live, the way it’s always been, or our lot in life. We never reach the potential God has for us because we believe in a false identity. The identity of this world.

When I came to know the Lord, I realized my true identity was in Him. I was His child. I was created in His image, with a destiny in mind. I was forethought, artfully designed, on purpose, with each detail precisely constructed in love. I was worth dying for, and I was worth pursuing. I was a child of the King, protected, holy, worthy, righteous, and redeemed. I was His. I was not alone. I was loved.

3. He gave me a purpose beyond myself. Once I found myself healed and whole, loved and set free, I felt an urgency to share this miraculous happening. It’s like, if you suddenly had the best cup of coffee in your life. It would be all you could talk about. You’d make sure your spouse, your best friend, and all your coworkers knew how to find this divine cup of joe. This is where I found myself.

Each day, as my spirit draws closer to the Lord, I become more certain of the plans He has for me. Knowing my identity in Him, I am able to throw off the minuscule concerns of this world that have no eternal perspective. I am able to shed the busyness, the ridiculous distractions that vie for my attention, and in essence, pull me further from His truth. I think that’s the first step to finding God’s purpose for your life. You have to be able to let go of all that entangles you, trying to take first chair over His kingdom.

As you can release the treasures of this world, and can begin building eternal equity instead, you can find true purpose. You can find true peace. True joy, even.

When you can let go of the things of this world, the titles and roles that you think complete you, and instead find real fulfillment through your heritage and the inheritance of your Heavenly Father, you will discover your true path in life. Consider this world a practice run. The real thing is what awaits us.

When I realized this profound, yet simple truth, I found purpose. I found a purpose beyond myself and my front yard. I found a way to be full, to the brim, and an understanding that because of Him, I am never lacking. And in this fullness of life, I make each day about pouring out that love on others. The more I give, the more I get. I never realized that before.

So, now I would encourage you. Sit down, clear your mind, and ask yourself, “what has God done for me?” You might just discover along the way, what you can do for Him.

How God Made a Miracle Marriage Out of Our Mess

by

I guess if any relationship was doomed for failure, it was ours. I had come off the tail-end of heartbreak hard and fast. After six years of marriage, my ex-husband had come home and told me he didn’t love me anymore. Already an injured bird, it didn’t take much to rip off my wings, ensuring I would never fly again. Indeed, I was a woman who based her worth on the people who loved her, or sadly, in the event of divorce, the man who didn’t. And there you had this pitiful waif of a gal, running back home to Mississippi with her tail between her legs, sent packing by the funny guy from Chicago who had decided she wasn’t worth the effort. It was this broken mess that plunged heart-first into another love affair, but don’t go feeling sorry for me as the rejected woman. In all honesty, I was probably a terrible wife.

So, there you had a terrible (ex) wife, getting involved with a fellow ex’er. Yep, we were both once-divorced, and with a mix of trepidation and hope, we stepped into the mess of one another’s life. I’m not sure who was worse off, him or me, but I don’t guess that matters anymore. We certainly didn’t let it stop us then. My husband (husband now, that is) and I, ran into each other’s arms. He could no better hold me up than I could him, but I guess we tried. Two negatives do not make a positive, but we were determined to make our math work.

Within the first year of being married we found out a lot about each other. If dating me for a year, status post divorce and dirty thirty crisis, had not let Ben know I was an alcoholic, then living with me certainly did. He knew I was a homebody, but realizing I stayed home so I could drink became ever-clear (see what I did there) all the more once we were under the same roof. Each morning he would crush cans, twenty or thirty littering the kitchen counters, and he would laugh about how we needed to start recycling. I could drink him under the table, and we both knew it. After I began to abstain we would understand better why.

Now, don’t go thinking I was some saint who poured out my bottles of alcohol as some sort of victory stance. Nope. The only reason I quit drinking (at the time) was because of the tiny baby growing in my womb. I had desired, and failed, to stop drinking for years, but it wasn’t until the life of a child entered the mix that I put my vices on the back burner.

Well, I wasn’t the only one who wanted to quit being an addict. I still remember, at seven months pregnant, confronting my husband about missing narcotics. How had I not realized my spouse was on drugs before?! I guess I had always been too drunk to notice.

Y’all, that first year was a doozie. Maybe even the second year too. I’m not sure how two total idiots made a marriage work, but I’ll be the first to say it was a God-thing. Now, I certainly wouldn’t advise young couples to pursue matrimony and starting a family with someone as broken as yourself, but then again, I suppose we’re all broken in one way or another. Our problems were just more obvious to the keen observer. In between the lies, addiction, and wounded hearts, God did a miracle. He took two hopeless, helpless wrecks and exploded His spirit within us. I know it’s only God’s grace that made it happen rather than fall through the cracks.

It was God’s grace that caused me to give my new husband a chance that day on the sofa. I think he wanted that confrontation. I think he wanted to tell me. I think he wanted me to find out about the drugs. But I also think he thought I’d leave him. I did not.

In the heart of all men and women is the potential for good. We are created in the image of our Father in Heaven, and it’s only sin and this world that gets everything so convoluted. We all have sin, and if you say you don’t, you’re lying to yourself. The only question is, are you willing to be forgiven? And perhaps, also, are you willing to forgive?

I’ve realized that marriage is a whole lot about forgiveness. It’s forgiving because you were first forgiven, and it’s about loving beyond just yourself. I can’t explain how grateful I am that the Lord gave me such wisdom that first year or two into our marriage. He made me abundantly aware that I was so far from perfect, it wasn’t even funny. That I couldn’t expect perfection from others. But that He (alone) could make things perfect. He could heal broken hearts, broken lives, and make all things new. I didn’t go about trying to fix my broken husband. Instead, I went about fixing me. Or rather, allowing the Lord to show me how.

I realized pretty quickly that I couldn’t focus on what my husband had done or was doing wrong, but I could focus on being a better wife. I realized that I couldn’t make him do things my way, but I could do things for him. I discovered I couldn’t change him, but I could change me. Y’all, the craziest thing happened. While I was busy making myself a better wife, Ben became a better husband. I didn’t ask him to change; I just trusted Jesus to grow us both. And boy, did He ever.

Each day seems better than the last. Do you know what I mean? I hear so many people say, “marriage is hard,” but is it really? I don’t think marriage is hard. I think life is hard. Having someone to transverse through the difficulties of a hard life? Gosh, that’s a blessing.

My husband is my best friend. I didn’t think marriage could be as good as it is, but it only gets better. We have seen a lot in a short (long) decade. We saw addictions broken (ten years sober/clean for us both). We saw trust rebuilt. We experienced the birth and raising of three babies. We experienced poverty and more than enough. Then we experienced poverty again. We’ve been through a lost business, overdrawn credit cards, reposed vehicles, and foreclosure. We’ve seen ups and downs, but only of the life and world around us. Never of our marriage. Life will give you a hard shake and very little break, but marriage should be the gift from God that can be a rock in shifting sand. In fact, if Jesus is the foundation of your marriage, it should be a strong tower of refuge in this stormy life.

I serve my spouse in love, and he serves me also. We cover ourselves in scripture, and God’s Word is the instruction manual for our marriage. Every reaction I have towards him is spirit-driven (or rather I strive for it to be). Those rogue, angry thoughts will surface occasionally, but that’s why a good, Christ-like pause is important. I measure my words, and so does he. I can’t for the life of me remember the last time he said something hurtful to me. My husband is so gentle with me, so caring and considerate. I don’t think that’s a typical “man” thing. I think that’s a Jesus thing. My spouse handles me with care, driven by love, inspired by our Savior, and I treat him the same. Slow to speak, slow to anger, and quick to forgive. Focusing on the other person, even to the point of denying self. I don’t have to worry that by denying my own needs I am left lacking. My husband meets my every need, and I serve him the same.

It’s funny to me, looking back. Our relationship was doomed to failure, from the perspective of the world, that is. God, on the other hand, looked at the mess of us, like a glob of unformed clay, and He said, “I can work with that.” We were malleable, you know? We were willing to have God change us for the better. I mean, we knew we were broken, and I guess that’s the first step to a happy marriage and life. Looking at yourself (and not just the other person) and admitting you need to be changed by the Lord. It’s looking to Jesus to fix you, not the person you’re in a relationship with. It’s allowing God to do the refining, and then trusting that He knows how to shape things better than you ever could alone. That’s the only explanation for what started between Ben and me thirteen (even twenty-three) years ago, and what it has become today. God knew what He was doing when He put us together, and despite our attempts to foul things up and all our missteps, God still made a happily-ever-after out of our mess. He gave us a miracle marriage, and each day is like Heaven on earth.

The Only Love That Makes Sense

by

I was listening to the radio this morning on the way to work, and as the singer’s lyrics rang out, I chuckled to myself at how true his words were.

He had sang, “it’s the kind of love that doesn’t make sense.”

And it certainly didn’t make sense how emotional I had been just twenty minutes before when listening to another song. A love song. My commute had started with a song about surrender, about handing my life to God so that He could make it into something beautiful. As I drove down the dark, deserted portion of turnpike, I had raised one hand in the air in agreement, and the act, thought, whatever, as the words poured through the speaker and into my heart, had caused me to weep uncontrollably.

Such love. That was what brought me to tears. Such peace at having my Heavenly Father direct my steps. That’s what had caused my emotional outpouring. I couldn’t help but bawl at such a wonderful love, and the fact that this relationship alone could rock me so severely made no sense, from a worldly point of you. I mean, I adored my children more than the air I breathed, but it took an intense event surrounding their lives to make my eyes leak at the corner. And I loved my husband more than words could express, yet even my immense affection for him did not impact me like the love of my Savior did. When I opened myself to the fact of what Jesus had done for me over 2,000 years ago, but also what He continues to do each and every day, I. Was. Wrecked. A total blubber-mess of gratitude and joy.

Sadly, I knew that for many people my response to thoughts of love for the Lord didn’t make sense, but as a woman who had suffered through the anxiety of trying to do life on my own, or the frustration of desperately seeking acceptance elsewhere, it made perfect sense. In fact, it was the only love that made any sense!

My husband is a wonderful husband, but the best thing I ever did for our marriage was understand that he couldn’t be my personal Mr. Fixit. He couldn’t save me, heal me, or love me perfectly. He just couldn’t. Human hearts are built longing for a perfect love, and the only surefire cure for the human condition is Jesus.

Spouses will let you down, friends will fail you. Children will frustrate you, and even your best pal will hurt your feelings. People will judge your performance, and they’ll falsely base your personal worth on what you do or the mistakes you make. These are the kind of common actions that create phrases like “love hurts,” but in all reality it’s the world that hurts. It’s sin that hurts. Love, in essence, in its purest form, the fact that God is love, this kind of love will never hurt us. Our running from it will hurt us, but there’s healing, total and complete, in surrendering to the perfect love we were created to enjoy.

The bottom line is that anything we pursue in this life, be it person or substance, to fill the void in our soul, it will fall short. It will be like the love you have for tacos. It’s pretty awesome, but it won’t save a life or build a future. Not even the best tacos. My spouse is the bee’s knees, but I don’t put the weight of perfection or filling my soul on his shoulders. He would collapse, and I’d end up dissatisfied. But, when I can realize that by falling fully for the only love that makes sense (the love of Christ), I am more able to healthily and happily invest in my other relationships. I can share that perfect love with them, and together we can all be content.

How to Receive God’s Promises in Your Battle

by

I’m going to tell you a story you may or may not be familiar with, and then I’m going to tell you exactly how you can apply the lesson to your own life. This story is about a man from the Old Testament called Joshua. I’ll bet you remember him. He’s the guy who marched around the wall of Jericho seven times, shouting loudly as God caused it to fall to the ground. But that’s not the only battle he led. He actually faced many armies on his way towards the land God had promised to Israel. The Book of Joshua is full of so many gems, so I’ll simply pass along one that really stuck out to me today. It’s good news we all can use as we face our own battles in the journey to God’s promises for us.

Following Jericho, God told Joshua of the next step. He wanted him to go take the land of Ai. I love that with every command of impending war, God tells Joshua, “do not be afraid.” That’s something we all need reminded of numerous times, not just in battle, but on the daily as we face the challenges of life. So, I like how God continues to tell Joshua not to be afraid, to be courageous, as He reminds him that the Lord God is always with him, as He is with us.

Anyway, back to Ai. God starts by telling Joshua not to be afraid, and then He delivers His promise. He tells Joshua that they will win this battle, that God Himself will deliver Ai into the Israelites’ hands. Good news, right? There’s so many times I feel (hear) God’s promises to me. He tells me that He’ll provide for my family, that He will direct our paths. Sometimes His promises are just general in nature, but other times more specific. Like when He promised provision for our sabbatical back home in Mississippi. I think we all face battles on the daily, and whether by reading the Bible, praying, or talking with a Godly mentor, we receive promises from the Lord that we don’t have to fear what we’re facing, because we don’t face it alone.

It was the same for Joshua. He knew the direction God was leading him, and he knew God promised His favor in the battle. I have had instances where I’m reading The Word, and I feel a promise from the Lord delivered to my heart. I feel so good in that moment. So confident. But the next day, when I’m trying to walk out that promise, it’s a little harder. I think that’s why God commanded to Joshua what He did next.

Joshua 8:18 (NIV)

Then the LORD said to Joshua, “Hold out toward Ai the javelin that is in your hand, for into your hand I will deliver the city.” So Joshua held out toward the city the javelin that was in his hand.

God had promised the conquer of Ai, but as Joshua points his javelin towards the city, he is not only commanding his army to battle, he is also walking in faith. He is following the instruction of the Lord faithfully, and he is showing in a physical sense the inner trust his heart holds. He’s pointing in a certain direction, but he’s also making the proclamation (for all to see) that he is headed that way because God commanded it. He is not afraid, and his javelin shows it.

We move to a new city, or we take that intimidating promotion. We accept the position leadership gives us, or we agree to help out in a field we’re not fully confident in. Whether it’s coaching little league, teaching Sunday school, leading a team, or persevering through a difficult season of marriage, we walk forward in faith the things God places in our lives. We walk with confidence into the unknown because He tells us not to fear. We hold up our own javelins, even with arms trembling, and we step out, in faith. Or we should, rather.

For the sake of the lesson, let’s say we’ve all pointed our javelin with confidence (albeit shaky) towards our specific promise land. What’s next?

The battle, of course!

Y’all. Have you ever been in the middle of a battle, and it feels like a ten year war? Like, there is no end in sight. Even if you know a victory is supposed to be coming, your faith can falter when faced with continued hardship. When I read about the battle with Ai, I was convinced it lasted longer than five minutes. I mean, the strategy was really cool. They lured their enemy out to the middle of nowhere, attacked the vulnerable city in the enemy’s absence, then turned around from their fake retreat to surprise the over-confident Ai in an ambush of epic proportion. It was awesome, but I don’t think it was speedy. I’m pretty sure it took some time. I would imagine there were moments where Joshua (in his humanness) worried about his soldiers. He probably cringed as the plan played out, perhaps mental fingers covering his hesitant eyes while they prepared to take the land of their enemy.

Joshua 8:25-26 (NIV)

25 Twelve thousand men and women fell that day—all the people of Ai. 26 For Joshua did not draw back the hand that held out his javelin until he had destroyed[a] all who lived in Ai.

The battle had continued, the enemy had been mighty, the way uncertain, the victory not yet complete, but do you know what Joshua had not done, despite the odds? He had not drawn back his hand. He held the javelin, pointed in the direction of God’s promise, until the war was won.

He had walked in faith, but more importantly, he had continued to walk in faith even as the battle waged on. So many times we find ourselves in situations that seem endless, the victory too far away to see. We get discouraged, and we don’t want to keep going. Our arms get tired. Our fears crowd in. We begin our battle in confidence, but it’s easy to draw back our hand when the going gets tough. We don’t hold out until the battle is complete. We draw back, and in doing so, we miss the promise of victory that God had in mind.

If you find yourself in a tough situation today, I would encourage you to hold out your javelin in faith. Point it towards the promise of victory that God gives. Don’t pull back your hand when the battle drags on, but instead hold steady in faith until God declares it done. Don’t miss the victory He has promised in your life. Don’t draw back your hand until the end.

When I Realized I’d Never Be Enough

by

I’d like to think that after forty-two years of transversing this life, I wouldn’t give a hoot what people think of me. And for the most part, I typically don’t. I mean, I’m certainly not the young, flat-chested teen I used to be, trying my best to fit in with the kids at the cool table. Heck, I’m not even the harried woman I was in my thirties who replayed every single conversation, encounter, or confrontation for at least the next 48 hours, hoping I could change my reaction. Like that old cigarette ad used to say, I’ve come a long way, baby, but this week showed me I still had a ways to go.

I wonder, will I ever be enough? For others, or even, more importantly, for myself? I’m not sure.

The past year I felt I had finally entered into a more confident season of life. I counted myself as a seasoned professional, an asset to my coworkers, a dependable part of the team. Even though it still seemed shocking to me to have so many years under my belt, I finally felt like I could walk confidently in my role as a seasoned, experienced nurse. Yet as I’ve found myself waking into new roles and responsibilities this year, I’ve felt lacking. I’ve had moments where I thought, “I must look like a total moron!” And I’ve worried more in the past few weeks about my performance in one area than I have in two years of traveling to unknown and unfamiliar hospital settings across the country.

As I saw myself moving towards the specific ministry callings God was leading me into, I realized I was being distracted by the voices. You know the ones I’m talking about. The voices that always tell you what you are not.

You don’t know enough to do this.

You aren’t equipped for this.

You don’t have the ability to carry this out like it deserves.

The voices say, “you’re not enough.”

They tell little lies. That subsequently sound like they could be true.

They think you’re an idiot for what you said.

You sound so full of yourself!

You know they’re just humoring you, right?

I even found myself questioning my relationships with family. People that I am incredibly comfortable with, I suddenly began questioning my interactions with them. I didn’t think I was a good sister, or sensitive enough to the needs of others.

He hates you, probably.

Yeah, she’s not texting back because you made her mad.

It’s the same voices that make you feel like you don’t belong, like an outcast, like relationships aren’t for you.

The only place I felt like I was achieving my goals was in my own home, and the comfort of being a good wife and mother kept me steady. Yet I was struggling in my other life roles. I felt convicted of my over-the-top concerns, and I questioned if I was putting the desire to please man above the Lord. So, I told myself, “I am good enough for God.”

But y’all, that didn’t help much with the fact that I felt lacking in areas of life that deserved more of me. Or that I felt deserved more of me. Because we are all our own worst enemy, am I right?

This morning the Lord got honest with me, and you know how we all need that hard truth hammered home sometimes!

I felt like God said, “Brie, you are not enough. You’ll never be enough.”

Gosh, He was right. As good as I tried to be, I wasn’t Mary Poppins. I’d never be practically perfect in every way. I couldn’t measure up to my own expectations or even that of the world around me, and there was something freeing about admitting that. Saying to myself, “yep, you’ll never be enough.” You see, it was a relief because of what the Lord whispered next.

He said, “but Jesus. He is enough.”

I could not measure up, but through Him I could step up. I could step into all the things God has for me. Alone, I definitely wasn’t enough to fill the shoes He had laid down, but with Him I could still walk confidently, walk forward, walk in peace.

I’d never be enough, but Jesus? Well, He had already paid more than enough for me for all eternity.

The Pajama Lesson

by

My nine year old got a few, new pairs of pajamas for Christmas. In fact, I asked people, when they inquired of me, to get them for her as a gift. Cause every kid loves clothes, right?! But seriously, she needed them, like, really bad needed them. So, boy, was I excited to see them rolling in at gift unwrapping time. One pair was especially adorable, and when she put them on they looked so cute I made one of those “ahhhh” sounds to emphasize my approval. She was grinning, too, so I assumed her stamp was given. She ran around all night, looking adorable in her striped, raccoon-icorn pj’s, but when bedtime came and she exited from the bathroom I was not prepared for her nighttime attire. There she was, smiling ear to ear, sporting her ratty, mismatched slumber wear. Do what?!

See, that’s why we had gotten her new pajamas, and I explained as much as I tucked her in the covers.

“These pajamas are super old,” I said. “I got you new ones so you don’t have to wear the same ones every night!”

Yes, she had worn them every night for as long as I could remember. They weren’t just her favorite; they were the only pair she’d wear. If she couldn’t find them, sometimes, it was a huge deal. She would search frantically for those ratty, worn-out pajamas. She did not think she could sleep without them.

“Why aren’t you wearing your new pajamas?” I asked.

She pulled at the thin, terry cloth fabric, covered in unicorns, and she answered, “cause they’re not comfy like these.”

She went on to explain in a variation of adjectives why her old ones were so stretchy, “bendy,” and easy to fall asleep in, and at that point I realized another reason she didn’t want to let them go.

Security.

See, for whatever reason, a year ago she began to fear going to sleep. Sure, a lot of children don’t like going to sleep, but my girl’s became a huge, irrational fear. She worried that she wouldn’t be able to fall asleep. Or she worried she wouldn’t stay asleep. It seems that at some point she woke up in the middle of the night, it was dark, and she got scared. And once the fear started, she couldn’t get past it to fall back asleep. She was immobilized from even going back to sleep, and after that she worried it would happen again. It didn’t matter that a year had gone by and she never had a problem again. She slept like a rock, but that didn’t mean as much in the face of fear.

At the beginning of her bedtime scare, we initiated a more solid routine. We did pajamas right at the time of sleep, we brushed teeth, we said our prayers, she watched a little bit of soothing, nature documentary with her dad to settle for the night. Before we realized it, this bedtime routine became a required ritual. She felt it necessary to hit each step. If I fell asleep (on my work nights) before her without praying for her, she would wake me up to pray. We explained that my prayers didn’t hold any more weight than her own, but she persisted that I had to be the one to pray with her. She spoke the same words in her prayer every night. The script, as much as the act of prayer, gave her comfort. I realized, after a year of wearing these pajamas every, single night (we laundered them regularly) she had built them into her much-needed routine. She felt like she needed those exact pajamas to sleep well.

I recognized that we all had our own pair of safety pajamas. And when I say pajamas, I don’t just mean pajamas. I mean that we all have routines, comfort zones, and certain people or things that make us feel secure. The bad part is those items in our life have no more power than some unicorn sleeping pants, but we give them a place of power when we allow them to keep us from moving forward into something better, or into the future God has for us.

How many women stay with an abusive man who has convinced her she cannot do better in life? I once spoke with a prostitute who remained under the thumb of her pimp because she felt that was the best she could do in life. She didn’t believe she deserved better.

How many men stay in a relationship where they are belittled and beat down?

How many of us stay in a job we hate? I can remember saying “better is the devil you know than the one you don’t.” I get it.

How many of us hate where we live, but are afraid to move somewhere new?

What about your career? I dreamed of being an actress on Broadway, but I let someone in my life convince me it wasn’t realistic to pursue, that I needed to go find a “real” job. So now, I just sing show-tunes to my intubated patients.

Yes, it’s good that I’m a nurse, but what I’m saying is, how often do we miss out on the best life for us and our families because we’re afraid to change pajamas? You see what I mean? Sometimes it’s easier to stay stuck in a routine we don’t really love, and that routine becomes a crutch. In fact, it becomes an albatross, or a millstone around our neck. It holds us down from enjoying the new gift we’ve been given, and we miss out on the fact that the new stuff may fit us even better than we could have ever imagined.

Well, I will report that she’s still wearing those old, ratty pj’s. The new ones are sitting in her drawer, still, but I’m hopeful that we can show her the truth. The truth is, change is scary, but it also brings blessing. Allowing fear to keep us from stepping out into the new, it only hurts us in the long run. We all could use a reminder of that. So, here’s to a new year of new things, new changes, new courage, and new confidence. I hope we all can embrace the new.