Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

Is There a Thorn in Your Flesh?

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I’m going to be very transparent here. Naturally, that’s the only way I know to be. See, the past couple of months have been, not that great. In fact, at moments over the past month, they’ve been just plain awful. So many people look upon the things I write and perhaps assume my life is a Mary Poppins, practically perfect journey, but they would be mistaken. Even joy-filled women, victorious in Christ, suffer. I have been in a time of suffering, in the valley of the shadow of death, in a season of mourning. The worst part? I couldn’t pinpoint the reason for my grief.

Over the past couple of months I’ve found my mood declining, and the reason not easily discovered. I blamed some of it on the dreaded hormones. Since turning forty my body had begun a cruel roller coaster ride of emotional surges, and despite a couple of different medicines prescribed by my doctor to try and level things out, it had continued its ups and downs. Forgive the TMI, but I had actually been on my menstral cycle for five weeks straight recently. It was at that point I felt like I hit a rock bottom of my emotional well.

I know the mental and emotional discomfort I have been under has been the same for many people. Isolation, financial loss, and sickness have spanned the globe. As a nurse I’ve experienced the harsh work of dealing with a pandemic and the pain of being helpless to save the many lives we’ve lost. As a mother I’ve experienced the challenges of keeping children at home for extended periods, and as a working mom I’ve tried to maneuver through my daughters’ worry over me working in such close proximity to a sometimes deadly virus. I guess I say all that to get across that a downtrodden mood isn’t exactly unexpected, but that somehow doesn’t make it feel any better.

As a Christian I know I’m not immune to anxiety and depression, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that it’s hit me so hard lately. You see, I know that this world is not my home. I understand that Jesus is in me, and I am in Him, and we are seated with the Father in Heavenly places. Just recently as I prayed for His help I saw a vision of Jesus and me walking together in a field of grain. There was such peace in that moment. And I suppose knowing that this world is temporal and finite still couldn’t seem to remove me from the grip of hopelessness that tried to take me. That bothered me.

I was praying about it one day and Paul came to my mind.

1 Corinthians 12:7-10 Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

I didn’t know if depression was Paul’s thorn, but it certainly seemed to be mine. I know that many mornings recently I would wake up feeling so sad. My life is amazing, my family is wonderful, and on an off day of relaxing I certainly had no reason for a feeling of hopelessness. All I knew was that in those feelings I had to be extremely intentional to remove myself from them. Or rather, I knew I couldn’t extract myself, but I knew who could. And in those feelings of melancholy I would seek the Lord in earnest. In fact, I have never sought Him so hard as I have since April. I have never experienced the Holy Spirit so strongly as I have this year. So while 2020 has been terrible, it’s also been a blessing. In the mess I’ve discovered Jesus more deeply. In feelings of helplessness I’ve found my hope can only be in Him. I mean, this world sure ain’t helping.

The Lord has been speaking so much to us personally, and we are on the edge of a major stepping out. As we prepare to move forward in what God has for us, we have felt the resistance from the enemy. My husband, a man who has never been prone to depression, has also recently experienced the downtrodden mood that has no physical cause. We’ve been partaking in communion in our home, and that helped tremendously. The girls have been experiencing headaches, tummy aches, and trouble falling asleep the past few weeks, and this too isn’t normal. We recognize the attacks we are under, and again it has us clinging all the more closely to Jesus. But please, if you think of it, cover us with prayer frequently.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know who holds it. I do know who holds me, who holds my family. I do know that when feelings of hopelessness come, they are a lie, and I know where my hope is found. I suppose the past few months have been an exercise in this battle for truth, and thankfully I do not fight this battle alone. For now, my thorn remains, but like Paul, I can delight in a weakness that causes me to more desperately draw from His strength.

A Window Into COVID Critical Care

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My eyes ached. You know that gritty, raw feeling, like you’ve been crying razor blades or something? That’s what it felt like. I made an extra effort to focus on the freeway lines that zoomed by as I drove towards my safe place. Home. That’s where I could forget my day, where I could escape, leaving the sadness and stress sitting in the seat of my car, ready to be picked up again in the morning.

I had told my coworker that afternoon that it felt like 10 pm. My eyes had been hurting then, at what surprisingly was only four o’clock. I had assumed it was because of the tears. Now that I think about it, though, it was probably just the weariness of what I had seen. Not just that day, but every day for months. It was like being witness to a horrible car crash, and being unable to extract the victims. Except the wreck never ended. You relived it every day. I realized my eyes hurt from watching that repeated carnage. I wasn’t sure I’d be able to unsee it.

There is a weight sitting heavy on the heart of healthcare right now. From a critical care point of view, it feels like the dreaded elephant on your chest. It’s this heaviness brought on by unspent grief, coupled with a frantic frustration over the things we cannot change. You see, COVID-19 has brought us something we’re not used to or comfortable with. Defeat. It’s beating us, pretty much every time.

The world, and certainly the United States, has experienced the unparalleled effects of this novel virus. We’ve all experienced the shutdown, the isolation, and the economic loss. What a large percentage of people, outside of the healthcare system, are not seeing is the wicked behavior of this disease. They don’t see the cruel nature by which it attacks, making certain that stories of survival are few and far between for those poor people who happen to fall into respiratory distress under its grip. Y’all, it just won’t let the people go.

Here it is in a nutshell. Because we’ve shut the hospital doors and won’t allow you in. Here is a window into COVID Critical Care.

Death. Over and over. It does not matter what we do, or what we don’t do. It doesn’t matter if we follow every recommendation, give every medicine, and check every single box. Nine times out of ten, if you end up on a ventilator with COVID-19, you are not coming off until your heart stops. That is why my eyes hurt.

You can see your patient turn the corner, start looking better, wean down the oxygen from 100%, finally. You can say to the spouse something you try not to say lately, like, “I’m hopeful. Things are looking better. I’m very optimistic about this.”

You can say those things one week, a few weeks into the particular ordeal, and you can want to believe it in your heart so desperately, but then you can have your hand on that same spouse the following week, praying for comfort while they cry, holding them while they weep in grief because your hope just didn’t pan out. That is why our eyes ache. You cannot unsee some things. Some pain etches itself into your retinas.

Listen, we knew what we were getting into with nursing and medicine. We knew that death and dying occur. We’ve dealt with this our entire careers, some of us for twenty or thirty years. What we were not prepared for was constant death. See, in nursing you win some and you lose some. But you win some! Do you see where I’m going? We’re used to having some good news to throw into the mix, but this pandemic hasn’t been playing by the usual rules. It has its own book, and sadly that manual is still being written. As it stands now, and since this began, the odds are not in our favor. The real Hunger Games are worse than you ever saw on TV.

We are fighting, y’all. We are doing all the things we do so well. There are many times over the years that I’ve been part in successfully reviving and continuing the life of someone who probably should have been allowed to pass on to the hereafter. In those moments I have said, “we are too good at what we do.” Well, this year has upended that statement. This year, we can’t seem to be good enough. We can fight, and we can do all the great things we normally do, but nothing can seem to alter the poor outcomes of critically ill COVID-19 patients. It. Is. Killing. Us. All of us. It is breaking our hearts, but it hasn’t stopped, so we just keep fighting.

You can watch a patient you’ve personally fought for, die every shift, every day, and it’s draining. Sometimes it’s more, sometimes it’s less. I don’t know the numbers, but I know how it feels. It sucks. Where’s some good news?!

I can count the success stories, on one hand, and I’m so very grateful for them. But they’re not enough. The bad is still outweighing the good in intensive care. Even when you do have someone get wheeled out the door, they’re not the same. The effects of this continue, and we don’t even know to what extent yet. I’m not a negative or fearful person, but gosh, that’s scary. The significant and lasting damage to lung tissue is real, and it’s crazy. We won’t even talk about the other physical and emotional tolls.

Our eyes hurt from the things we cannot unsee, from the tears we sometimes cannot stop. Our hearts hurt for the grieving families, for the pain of our patients and their loved ones. Our brains ache from trying to understand the vast variations of presentation and progression of this virus, and our minds are blown by the damage it can do. This virus is cruel, it’s uncertain, and it’s unlike anything we have seen. We have worked beyond what we believed we were capable of doing. We have carried ourselves to physical points we have never experienced before, but also emotional roller coaster rides we never anticipated. So, while the Nation at large is angry to watch football and not be made to wear masks, we’re just over here trying to survive. We’re just over here trying to make our patients survive, even as we know that statistically they will not.

The Side Effects Nurses Are Having From COVID-19

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I fell asleep the other night feeling so beaten down and defeated. I had tried to scroll mindlessly through my Facebook newsfeed before bed as I used to do to decompress after a long, thirteen hour shift at the critical care bedside, but it had only succeeded in making me more upset. I wasn’t even mad about the ridiculous post I had seen shared by a friend claiming coronavirus was a “Democratic hoax.” It would have made me mad back in April, when I knew this thing I fought was really real, but at this point, as numbers climbed even faster than I had imagined they would, I was just tired. I had erased the very true comments I had written on the aforementioned post, and I had fallen asleep knowing that was just one more thing I had no control over.

I had zero control over the public’s perception of this virus, and even though I had intimate details of what Covid was really like, it didn’t matter. I could change opinions about this about as much as I could about mushrooms being gross. The fact was a lot of people really liked mushrooms, and I had zero chance of making any of those folks agree with me that they were slippery and weird. Touché. I guess what ground my gears was having an appetite for fungi was a matter of preference, but in my book COVID-19 was as sure as the button nose on my masked face. For me, standing in the muck of this mess, it was not debatable.

And so I drifted asleep feeling bummed that public perception was just one more thing I couldn’t control. This concern toppled over the crown of a hundred other uncontrollable factors I held as a nurse during a pandemic. My healthcare peers and I faced a novel virus, new to us all, and we swam through the treacherous waters together. Initially, much fanfare and support had followed the medical community as we stood bravely against this foe. But now? Not so much. Nurses were no longer the darlings of the working world. We were lumped in with all the other exaggerators, seemingly wringing our hands for a bug that experts on social media described as “basically the flu.” I mean, you can’t applaud someone who combats a fake virus.

The thing was/is, I didn’t need applause. But I did desire someone to take our words for it. Instead it seemed a large part of public opinion favored the advice of YouTubers or folks with one-lettered names like ‘Q.’ I couldn’t tell if people were so scared they convinced themselves it was fake, so distracted by the conspiracy theories that they truly believed it was all a political ploy, or so dense that they didn’t care. After all, I had even seen some people in nonclinical healthcare suggest we all go out and catch it.

Just the day prior I had heard such an idea of herd immunity, and while I understood the general premise and points, I could only reply, “I still can’t figure out what makes you the type of person who this affects like a mild case of the flu versus the people whose lungs are attacked and die. Until they figure that out, I don’t want to roll the dice with my family.”

See, that’s the burden bedside nursing carries. The physicians, respiratory therapists, and nurse aids in the trenches too. We all see what it can and does do to a person. Young, old, healthy, sick. Doesn’t matter. It will kill anybody it so desires. We wish we could end this crap already too, but we’re too personally involved with corona to play roulette.

I see people protesting being required to wear a mask in public places. Meanwhile, I’m triple checking the seal on my respirator to make sure I don’t take this virus home to my family. I see people griping about wearing it for a thirty minute shopping trip. Meanwhile I fall asleep with my nose still feeling numb from the pressure of a mask for thirteen hours straight.

The next morning when I arrived at work, all prayed up, and mostly rested up, almost immediately someone asked me what was wrong. You see, I’m the singing nurse, the smiling nurse, the uplifting one who always lightens dark moods. So when I’m not exuding those things, it’s noticeable. After a second person asked, I realized I was suffering from the side effects of a pandemic. No, I wasn’t sick with a virus, but I was sick with the emotional, physical, and mental toil of the virus. You can only exist in so much uncertainty, sickness, and sadness before you succumb.

I thought of the patient who breathlessly called family to say quickly, “well, they’re putting me to sleep for a while. Talk to you soon.”

The memory left my heart hurting, and I recalled how at the time my eyes had met those of a coworker, both of us hoping that was true, but knowing that statistically and according to gut feeling, the patient likely would not wake up again. And that’s the biggest battle we face. That was what kept us awake at night. That’s what might create future PTSD for many, and it’s what made my spirit feel so heavy since this had begun. The rising case numbers, incidents, and COVID admissions only worsened an already aching heart. It was the thing we wanted to control the most, but the one thing that sadly we could not. No matter how hard we tried. People were dying, a lot of them, and for those accustomed to healing, this bitter pill was especially hard to swallow.

The side effects to COVID-19 on healthcare workers are multifaceted. They’re not just placing their physical bodies at risk, or even that of their families. They are also investing their hearts. The emotional and mental toil cannot be imagined unless you have faced it head on personally. I am a veteran, and I don’t use this term loosely, but I do consider this a battlefield of sorts. Nursing is fighting a war, one they feel they are losing, both at the bedside and in the court of public opinion. We’ve got battle scars already. I can’t imagine how it will feel down the road.

So, if you see a nurse, please cut them some slack. If they’re sharing about the benefits of social distancing, hand hygiene, or wearing a mask, realize it’s because they care. They’re not pushing any hidden agenda, playing politics, or even in on the “government hoax.” The fact is, we’ve seen far too much death already, we anticipate to see much more, and we want to prevent that if at all possible. There’s so much with this pandemic we cannot control, but maybe we can help save a life.

And for goodness sake, stop trying to convince us it’s not a big deal or as bad as the media says! I don’t even watch the news. But I do believe what my eyes tell me. And right now, sometimes through tears, they tell me we have to work together to stop this thing. Please.

Is Satan Stealing Our Nation?

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I was praying this morning on the way to work, and I felt the Lord speaking to me about the condition of our Nation. I mean, how could He not. Unless you’ve been asleep under a rock, you’ve seen the devastation occurring. We giggle at the many memes joking about the craziness of the year 2020, but I think we laugh so we won’t cry. After all, who hasn’t considered the fact when someone brings up words like “end times.” Indeed, we are living in unprecedented times, and I wonder if we can truly see what is happening around us.

This morning as I prayed I had a vision of people on their knees. It was Saints of God, bowing in worship, and as they prayed light from Heaven beamed down into their bodies. It was as if the Holy Spirit was infusing His people with the power they needed, and the thought of this gave me hope. I prayed for revival, knowing that was what we needed, and then I received clarity on the battle to prevent awakening in our world. We were under attack, like never before, and if we were in end times, then we needed to have eyes to see and ears to hear! That is what I prayed for.

When COVID-19 first descended on our country, and it became apparent that the danger we faced was real, I could see a light peeking through the darkness. I know many of you saw it too. The light was shining from the life of others, as the Lord worked through His people to bring hope to a shocked world. We were witnesses to things we had never before encountered, and as we tried to make our way through the surreal fog of uncertainty, the essence of hope beamed like a beacon to persevere. People came together, communities stood tall, and voices rose. You could actually see faith in action, and while church buildings closed, the true church (the body of believers) came out of the woodwork to hold up the weak and weary. I was so proud.

It felt like revival was working its way through the country. Bibles were flying off store shelves and the Bible App reached record downloads. People who normally stayed away from entering a church building were showing up to watch services online, and the healing power of Jesus was reaching people it never had before. A pandemic was upon us, but in true, Awesome God fashion, the Lord was working it for good.

I remember thinking to myself, this is it. A great awakening is upon us.

But then the dastardly sandman slinked out of the grass, ready to close eyes however he could.

You began to see videos popping up on Facebook, and it was almost like the church of conspiracy theories was born. It stepped up its recruiting efforts in an unparalleled fashion, and it was like everyone I knew was suddenly “woke.” Isn’t it ironic how the medium the devil used to distract God’s people from His work, closing their eyes to what He really wanted them to do, was termed such a thing?

Everyone became suspicious. And while I’m a realist, aware of government intrusion, even I couldn’t believe the uproar. Helpers became hiders. People who had formerly been encouraging each other, suddenly began arguing amongst themselves. United people became fragmented factions, hurling ugly words over whether to stay at home or not. Masked men versus the unmasked, and vaccinators fighting with oil infusers. Ridiculous. Petty arguments over politics, and an ever-present stream of shock-factor videos that threatened to disappear if you didn’t watch right away!

While there was nothing wrong with awareness of media manipulation or political propaganda, the problem came with Satan using the work of evil men to further divide good people. The devil was taking something that should have been for the good of mankind and using it to drive a wedge between them. Tempers flared, and instead of us finding the strength we needed to persevere through difficult times in Jesus, we tried to find it in knowledge, as if uncovering conspiracy would make a very real virus suddenly disappear. Instead of finding unity in our fear of the unknown, we allowed evil to thin our patience, replacing it with anger at our neighbor, when really we were just angry with a situation we couldn’t control.

Basically, a time that could have been a win for the church, became an opportunity for losing our cool. What should have been a time of spiritual awakening, instead became a time of distracted slumber. Y’all, we fell for it hook, line, and sinker. I’m guilty too. In times where I could have shown compassion, I responded in frustration. Pride abounded, with each group certain of only one thing; they were right about absolutely everything. We forgot how to humble ourselves, and Satan lapped it up like the dog he is. Evil fed off our anger, and if we could see into the spiritual realm, I’m certain we would have seen demonic forces strengthened by the vapors of our fear and rage. A time when the Nation could have come together, when the church had the utmost opportunity to be a witness of love, we instead fought over whether Outback Steakhouse should open back up their dining room. It’s a laughable comment, until you realize it’s true. We lashed out when we could have loved instead. Fueled by fear and a lack of control, we found false security in fighting over petty indifferences. As if proving that a face mask does no good in public, that would somehow make everything fall into place.

I realize I’m getting too wordy, so please hang with me and I’ll try to tie this up. My point is, our Nation needs a wake up call, but every time God sends one, we fall for Satan’s lullaby! The Lord calls us to follow Him, but Satan whispers for us to hit the snooze button just one more time.

The remnant prayed for healing, and in His mercy the Lord heard their cries. He brought abundant blessing, cutting off Corona before it could carry out its full potential! But then do you know what we did?! The same people who had prayed for an end to the pandemic cursed it coming to an end. Instead of seeing God’s grace and answer to our prayers, they shouted, “I knew it was a hoax!”

That’s right. The Lord blessed His people with healing, but the devil whispered lies. The great deceiver laughed and laughed.

The Lord still allowed us to reap His blessing despite the blatant denial of His goodness. We began to see the cloud of COVID lift, case numbers go down, and communities opening back up. The light of the Lord’s favor was shining on our country once again. When the Lord blesses, the enemy will try and attack. Especially when the Lord is trying to show us His character, the enemy will come up with the next strategy to distract, divide, and blind.

Evil came to the forefront in a horrendous way, by act of murder. It started with Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Porter, and came to an explosion with the tragic death of George Floyd. Satan wanted death and destruction, and he brought it by senseless violence. The Lord desires healing, truth, and justice, and He used the video evidence of the obvious murder of George Floyd to illuminate a very real problem in America. He utilized the work of Satan to try and bring some good from the devastation. He opened eyes to racism, that it still existed today, and He opened hearts to compassion and empathy for the marginalized, black community. People who had turned a deaf ear, buried their head in the sand, or simply been blinded by a spirit of apathy, suddenly could see what the black community had been screaming for years!

Once again we are faced with an option. Will we sleep, or will we wake up? Will we have eyes to see and ears to hear, or will we remain blind? Satan is tricky and he will use the cover of religion (over true relationship with Jesus) to keep God’s people asleep. Satan will use division, pride, and anything he possibly can. So, while we may think the devil simply uses bigotry and obvious racist behavior to serve his purposes, in reality he uses so much more. He can cause us to deny racism is an issue, or he can make us apathetic to the plight of others. He can keep us silent with fear of what others may think, or by injecting confusion into the issue.

False thoughts like these.

I don’t agree with violence and rioting, so therefore I can’t stand with Black Lives Matter.

But I believe all lives matter, therefore I can’t stand with Black Lives Matter.

I don’t think all cops are bad, so I can’t support the black community.

These are just a few examples of the confusion that seeps into our thinking, and we inadvertently allow the distractions to prevent us from carrying out God’s will for our world. We’ve gotta stop! We have to recognize the fact that it’s not flesh and blood we fight, but principalities and powers of darkness. We must walk in love, compassion, and humility, facing all pandemics, areas of injustice, and really, all issues with a kingdom mindset. We need eyes wide open, and we need to consider what is not only important to our society as a whole, but also to the souls of society. What brings salvation? Is it arguments over a difference of opinion, or is it a kind, humble heart that considers the feelings of another?

Do you know the biggest barrier to revival in our country? It’s us. In my vision I saw God pouring His Spirit into His children, but I’m afraid when we close our eyes to injustice, our hearts to compassion, and our lives to working together for good, we also close off the flow of His power and blessing. In the end, we all miss out. We all lose. But none so much as the lost who never get to see Jesus in us.

How God Sees Our “Righteous Anger”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three Things God Has Done for Me

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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.

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.

I Don’t Identify as a Woman

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I’ve heard this in the media a lot lately, and last night as I sat slightly uncomfortable in a huge gathering of women, I felt it.

I don’t identify as a woman.

As hard as I have tried over the years, especially in high school, and as much as I may want it to be different, I just don’t feel it. I don’t. I don’t guess I’ve ever identified as a woman.

A couple of weeks ago I sat in church and they announced an upcoming Women’s Conference. The video made it look very appealing, but there was that large part of me that was like, “nah. I’m good.”

See, I’m not really a joiner, especially where women are concerned. I don’t fit in, I never have, and many years ago I stopped trying. I just wasn’t like them. I couldn’t get into the whole “girls’ night out,” and I didn’t trust ladies any further than I could throw them. Which isn’t far. Because even if they’re little, I’m really weak. But I digress. The point is, well, I’m going to be very honest here. I don’t like females.

Ok, I love being a woman. I love having daughters. But somewhere between being the new kid in third grade and being the butt of a bully’s angst in high school, I decided I could take it or leave it where female friendships were concerned. Actually, leave it. Definitely leave it.

The thing is, God has really been dealing with me. He’s been teaching me new things over the past couple of years, stretching me, and taking me to new levels of trust with Him. Selling all my possessions and moving my family of five 800 miles away from all our extended family and friends? No problem. Taking on a job with zero insurance or paid time off? Easy peasy. That same travel position having no security of employment and income or knowledge of where the next job would come from? Bring it on! But stepping out of my turtle shell of introversion? I’m sure that wasn’t the voice of God.

So when I heard about the Women’s Conference I was of two minds. One said, go, but the other said hide.

“Oh, man. I work a shift at the hospital that day. Too bad,” I thought, with little upset.

But dang it. Still that feeling nagged me to go.

“Okay, God,” I prayed. “I’ll try and see if I can get off work. If you really want me to go, make it work.”

I challenged Him, and of course, He challenged me right back. I got the day off easily, no matter how much I told my boss, “I know this is last minute, so it’s ok if you can’t…”

Despite my dislike of most women, because let’s be honest, we’ve all lived through our own version of the Mean Girls movie, I do have a handful of trusted women in my life. It just so happened that most of them were my immediate family, and the rest were a thousand miles away. Undeterred, I went ahead to the conference alone, the Holy Spirit my plus one, and I asked God to use it for my growth.

Immediately upon arriving I realized there were women everywhere. I didn’t know any of them and I really didn’t like crowds, but I checked in with a smile and went to find a seat. I found a back row with a few open spots, settled into one, then was kindly asked to move over so a group of friends could sit next to their friends. I moved into the one empty seat, directly behind a large column blocking my view of the stage. I got up quickly and repeated this same sidestep seat swap another time before finally finding a vacant spot where a group of women were kind enough to let me linger.

At that moment I felt so alone in that big crowd. I watched women laughing and socializing with one another. I smiled brightly, watching, waiting, hoping for someone I could try and engage, but still I felt like an outsider. I had always felt that way. I had never fit in. I had always been the weirdo, the one other women talked about when I walked away. It had taken me years, decades even, to stop trying to fit in. I had finally, at forty, come to a place in my life where I was happy with how God made me, I wasn’t going to try and change for anyone, and I didn’t care what anyone thought! Ha. I felt peace with me. So why was God upsetting the balance?! Why push me to (I shudder) hang out with others.

The preacher was no better! He had said something six months or so ago that started this thorn in my side. It’s like he had been staring straight at me when he said God wanted us loving others, building relationships, and stepping out of our comfort zone. He deflated my balloon of intimate introversion, going so far as to say it wasn’t of God. Well, crap.

Next thing I knew God kept building on that, putting desires in me to join Outreach teams and small groups. All things that were outside of my wheelhouse. My safety net, my equally shy and shut-in spouse, he was no help. In an out of character for him fashion, he readily agreed to my suggestions of “getting involved.”

As I sat in that church last night, my wounded flesh wanted to scream, “I don’t belong here!” That bullied, flat-chested, anorexic teenager in me wanted to dwell on having no one to sit by or being ignored and pushed aside.

Instead I spoke in a whisper, “not today, satan.”

Y’all, I’ve never identified as a woman in that, I’m not like most. I have been hurt, and I’ve been pushed into my warm cocoon. I’ve made my circle so small that it no longer has room for God to work in my life the things He needs to work. So, He’s been calling me out of my circle of safety. He’s been calling me to step out and (gulp) make friends. Female ones! I’ve never identified as a woman in that I haven’t been able to enjoy or relate to the value of female friendships that other women seem to revel in. I feel God calling me to different ministries, but it seems you have to actually be around other people for that to work. Sigh.

It’s comical sometimes the things God can do to bring you where He wants you to be. Especially when you ask Him for it. He can make a borderline hoarder (I’m talking about myself, by the way) sell all their stuff, and take a scared girl (in a forty-two year old body) out of her shell. So, I’m open to that.

I haven’t ever been able to identify as a woman (not like other women, anyway), and even now it’s hard for me. But I see God moving. I see Him changing my heart. I see Him chiseling away the walls I’ve built. So last night I may have sat on the sidewalk alone, eating my nachos, praying someone would come talk to me, but I also made my way over to a group of ladies I knew, carrying a dessert, and starting a conversation like a bonafide normal person. I even hugged a few women and signed up for a ladies group.

I haven’t always been able to identify as a woman, but I do know that I’m God’s girl. And I’m starting to see all the sisters before me that He’s placing in my path.

What God Would Say to the Woman Who’s Not Enough

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Most of us women, at one time or another, feel as if we’re not enough, like we’re lacking some fundamental trait that will magically transform us into the women we wish to be. Not a patient enough mother, or perhaps you’re a wife who suffers to serve. We desire to be that mighty woman of God, to get it right at least every now and again. A fight with our spouse, or a harsh, thoughtless word screamed in frustration at our children prove to us where we have fallen short once again. If only we could be the kind of friend our girlfriends need, or have the time and energy to volunteer at church. If only we could keep the kitchen clean, laundry basket empty, or keep up with our graying roots like other moms seem to do.

We see our Facebook friends dressing trendy, our Instagram idols redecorating their homes. The lady next door doesn’t have trash falling out of the backseat of her minivan, and the mom of four at church, her kids are always so well behaved! A condescending look at the grocery store, the well-intentioned yet hurtful advice from an older woman at church, and the thoughtless comment from your husband all cement the idea that you need to step it up. You need to change, improve, work on you!

Wash your face, wipe your eyes, and work on you! Make time for yourself, yet cherish time with your children, time that is fleeting, and that you’re constantly reminded passes too quickly. How does that work?!

You’ll miss this, they say, all while taking afternoon naps themselves that you can’t personally enjoy.

So you strive to do better. You endeavor to be a Proverbs 31 woman, even though you feel like a Prozac 24/7 kinda gal. If you feel depressed you must not be godly enough, so back to the drawing board for you. Watch your weight, exercise, pray, repeat. Count backwards from ten, take your vitamins, and drink more water. Go out with your girlfriends, read a book, take time for yourself. Stay attractive for your spouse, serve him in love, and give him the affection you yourself feel like you’re lacking. Be in the mood, even if you’re not. Meal prep, crockpot, freezer meals. Keto, Paleo, Weight Watchers, Hello Fresh. So much advice, yet so little time. I don’t know about you, but I just want to not be tired anymore, and to wake up without a sore neck and back. Also, why am I anxious about nothing at all?!

Being a woman is hard, but working to be the woman you think you should be is even harder. It’s not easy being everything for everyone, yet still feeling like you’re not enough. Not good enough, pretty enough, young enough, thin enough, strong enough, happy enough. You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, sure, but maybe you just want to be the cup you yourself could enjoy. You want to be the mother your children deserve, the wife your husband desires, and the woman God needs you to be. Why is it so hard?!

Well, take a breath and listen. This is what God would say to you today.

Stop! Don’t work on you. Work on knowing me better. Stop striving to be the “mighty woman of God” you think you should be, and instead simply rest in who I have created you to be.

I don’t want you to be like her. I created you to be you. The things you see as flaws, I put those there. I thoughtfully formed your crooked nose and short legs. And even the flaws that the world has harshly placed upon you, I can work with those too. Don’t doubt what I can do.

The world will say you are not enough. Even my other children will tell you that is so. Satan will whisper lies so stealthy you will think they are truth, but I promise you this. You can only find my truth in my Word. If it’s not in the Bible, then it’s not for you to believe.

Stop seeking self-improvement, and instead seek my face. Spend time with me. Pour over my truths in scripture, and let that truth flood your soul. Allow it to take over your thoughts so that when lies from the enemy come, because they will, you can overpower them with who I say you are.

Stop working on being better, and start being better in me. Remember that my strength is in your weakness, that you have been made perfect in me, that I am in you, and you are in me. Together, there is no lack. There is always enough.

You are what I say you are, and you are enough. You can rest in my perfect peace, knowing the plans I have for you, plans for a wonderful future.

Stop fighting battles I have already won. Stop waging war on yourself. I take it personally. I created the stars in the sky, ones you cannot even see, ones that shine so fiercely they are blinding up close, but you are still my most precious creation. Just as you are. Stop trying to alter my design.

Stop planning to do better, and simply follow my path I have laid out for you. You cannot see it for your own anxieties of becoming lost. When you feel lost, go back to my map. Read the words there in red. They tell you the way.

Stop working on being a better you, and focus on residing in me. I am your safe place. I can block out the whispers that say you’re not enough. There’s nothing wrong with desiring to be a better you, except when you begin to think you alone hold the key to change. Only I can change hearts, and only in me will you find the completeness you desire. Stop trying to be everything, and rest in the fact that I already am. In me you have fullness of life. In me, you are already enough.

Why Do Bad Things Happen to Good People?

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I suppose we have all wondered at one time or another. When a child dies in a freak accident, we question life. When a new mom passes away in childbirth, we throw up our hands, demanding answers, letting them fall back down limply in grief. When a family slips away from this earth as they sleep, a shocked community, and even the world wonder why them. We all want to know why only the good die young, or why in the world wonderful, kind people find themselves in tragedy, while the rotten, selfish folks continue on their merry way, skipping and whistling through their seemingly perfect life. I mean, seriously, why do bad things happen to good people?!

This is especially a difficult question for believers, and by that I mean people like myself, Christians, followers of Christ. We believe in a sovereign God who holds the world in the palm of His hand. We believe He controls our lives, controls the very ocean waves and violently strong wind when it blows. Why do people who love the Lord have their house burn down, lose a child, have to say goodbye to their marriage, suffer through sickness, or get laid off from work?

Why do bad things happen to good people?!

I think the first thing we have to do in these questioning moments is remember that questions are good. They’re not bad in themselves. I think God, especially as a Father, understands children who desire answers. So we shouldn’t feel guilt for angry, sorrowful questions thrown emotionally into the air, but we should also be open to the answers that will come. The thing about answers is they don’t always come until much later. So, we have to hold on to what we know.

I believe the first thing to keep in mind when bad things happen is God’s character. He is good. And since He’s good, bad doesn’t flow from Him. God doesn’t make bad things happen to us. He’s not mad at us. He doesn’t want to teach us a lesson like a stern school master, or purposefully injure us like a cruel kid pulling the wings off a fly. God is good. God is Love. Therefore, He wants love and good for His children.

His Word states He works all things for the good of those who love Him. That means that even the bad can be worked for our good.

We do live in a sin-filled world, a world ruled by sin, a world where sin creates bad things. God doesn’t create the bad, but He does work the bad for our eventual good. It’s hard to see that good in the thick of the bad, but as Christians who know God’s character, we can hold fast to that truth.

I can remember years ago, when my daughters were babies, continuously praying for their health. Sick babies are so scary. If you’ve ever held a tiny infant’s chest in your hand and felt their tiny ribcage rattle with the rough movement of mucous, you know what I mean. I can recall during one prayerful morning the Lord speaking something to me about their health. I had been praying for zero sickness. Perfect health, if you will. And the Lord reminded me of reality. They had to get sick!

As a nurse I knew the importance of them getting those little viruses. They needed to build their weak, immature immune systems. If they didn’t get a little sick with some common sniffles every once and a while then they wouldn’t be able to handle a bigger virus if it ever came. Sometimes you needed a little sickness to make you stronger.

I know you’ve heard people say jokingly, “let them play in the dirt. It builds their immunity.”

Well, sometimes life gets dirty to build us stronger.

Even as my children are young now, when they fall I know it’s for a reason. They’d never learn to be careful if they didn’t trip and fall first. They’d never understand accidents hurt if they never felt pain.

It’s the pain that matures us.

It’s the sickness that builds us.

It’s the fire that refines us.

It’s the hurt that teaches us.

It’s the tests that create our testimony.

I don’t always know why bad things happen to good people! But I do know this. I know God works the bad for our good.

I know that through the struggle we grow closer to Him.

I know that in transversing through pain we become stronger.

I realize that in the bad we become better.

I get that in the fire I don’t walk alone.

He is with me.

I can see that even in the bad, He is good, and His purposes always prevail.

But sometimes you can’t see. You can’t see Him. You can’t see how all the bad can ever be good! You can’t see the purpose in the pain! You can’t see why bad things happen to good people. You can’t see.

You can’t see the steps that lie ahead for you. You’re too afraid to walk further. You can’t even see behind you, to remind you of His past provision. But do you know what?

He sees.

He sees you.

He knows your pain. And He knows the way past it. He knows the steps you take, and He knows how to lead you to higher ground. He sees. Even when we are blinded by the bad, He sees good.

I don’t always understand why bad things happen to good people, but I do understand this. I understand that nothing we have been through or are going through now, in fact, no trial we face in this world can compare to the glory that awaits us. We face a tough world in the current, but the current problems of this world are like a passing mist compared to an eternity with Jesus. If we can only put on Kingdom Eyes we can see! We can see that the bad we face here is nothing. Our victory is in Christ. Our victory brings only good things ahead.

So, come on, sickness, debt, disaster, and such. We can count it all as joy for it is building us stronger, wiser, more mature, and closer to Him.

Why do bad things happen to good people? So we can become good like Him, better than we are. So He can show His love and power to us by lifting us higher. So He can take us beyond the passing bad to a constant good. A forever good. That is a future I can handle.