Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

I Will Never Forget the Trauma of COVID-19

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Numbers have been declining, face mask mandates rescinded, and I try to be hopeful. I haven’t taken care of a COVID positive patient in two weeks! I want this to end more than you know. I want life to return to normal. I want my outgoing husband to go back to ministering to strangers in love, and I desire for my daughters to play with other children without concern or worry. It’s not fear, you see, that drives me, but rather things I saw and cannot forget.

A few months ago I received my first dose of the COVID vaccine. I felt hopeful. In all honesty, I cried happy tears. I wanted an end to this pandemic more than anyone could ever imagine. I posted a picture to Instagram of me smiling with my vaccination card. A stranger commented about my lack of faith, and my obvious succumbing to fear. That broke my heart.

This morning my husband and I talked about it on the front porch. Before children wake, with coffee in hand, we’re allowed these private conversations. I mentioned how I wanted to see him engage with neighbors more readily, like he used to do. You see, the past year has not just impacted me. It had also scarred my best friend, my spouse who heard my pain after a long day at the ICU bedside. He knew the truth of it.

As we spoke of hope, of how things seemed to be getting better, I was taken back to this past summer. June and July of 2020. I had been working in a major, metropolitan area of Central Florida, and we had been hit brutally by the pandemic.

I said to my husband, “I remember reaching that breaking point where I knew we couldn’t take much more. There were more patients than we could handle. Every shift another person died. A woman my age with young children like us died. Then that man with daughters the same age as ours. Followed by the death of a coworker’s spouse. I took care of him. I helped her put on the PPE right before he died. I remember thinking that could be me, losing you.”

He listened in that understanding way of his. Then I added, “I think a part of my depression at the worst of it had a lot to do with public perception. I would try to escape to social media to take my mind off what I was seeing at work, but I was met with people who made light of the very thing that was breaking me.”

I had to take a big step away from the world during all of this. I didn’t fear a virus, but I did fear the way my heart was feeling towards others who could not fathom what I was going through. Here I was crying into the phone with family who couldn’t hold their dying loved one, and the rest of the country was complaining about not having prom or how uncomfortable a thin piece of paper felt on their face for 20 minutes a day. I rubbed ointment of the reddened bridge of my nose, scarred by a respirator I wore for 13 hours a day, and I rubbed my bruised ego even harder.

It took months, and I mean months, for me to let go of the hurt and offense I felt at others negating my pain. I had to lay it all down and be grateful that they didn’t have to know the things I knew, see the things I had seen, or remember the trauma that could still pop up unexpected as I sat on my porch drinking coffee.

I have forgiven the offense, but I cannot forget the trauma I experienced. I know I’m not alone in this. I think of the wonderful, brave men and women, doctors, nurses, respiratory therapists, and other healthcare workers who served alongside me during the worst of it. We all had that hollow-eyed look, at the time, and I think even now are like a feral cat hesitantly approaching a bowl of food left in the garage. We want the good news. We want the numbers to go down, and a return to normalcy. Yet we can’t forget. The death, the hopelessness. We were supposed to save lives, yet there was a time where nothing we did worked. If you entered the COVID ICU, your chances of leaving it alive were slim to none. It’s not supposed to work like that.

I’m back on social media, and it’s about the same. It hasn’t changed, but I have. I realize I cannot change anyone’s mind. I cannot be a voice of reason or experience to anyone who doesn’t want to hear me. I let it go, as my daughter’s favorite princess would say. Opinions are still strong, and people like to voice them. People have their opinions on masks and vaccinations, and I won’t try to change that.

I would only say this. Don’t belittle what someone else decides to do, or God-forbid, question their belief system or faith. In 2020 there was this saying, “we’re all in this together.” While I could appreciate the sentiment, it just wasn’t true. We all experienced the COVID-19 pandemic, but exactly how it impacted us was very different. We were not together in the differing traumas we experienced. I didn’t suffer through financial hardship. I kept my job the entire time. Those who didn’t have money to pay their bills experienced a trauma I cannot relate to, but it’s also a reciprocal relationship. I saw things at the critical care bedside that the average person cannot fathom. That is why I try now to not be offended anymore. Others cannot understand my trauma, and I cannot understand theirs. I didn’t have family die. I suffered depression and anxiety, but not as much as I’m sure others did. I try to remind myself of that.

If someone continues to wear a mask when the mandate has been lifted, that’s their prerogative. If someone wants to wear their mask outdoors or in their car, with no other people in sight, that is their decision. You cannot know what they personally experienced the past year. Keep that in mind. If you’re totally against the COVID vaccine, I respect your personal decision, but I would encourage you to do the same. Every ICU nurse I worked with got the vaccination. Our work didn’t force us to do this. The trauma we experienced did. So, if I could offer any friendly advice as mandates and restrictions ease, it would be this. Don’t lessen someone else’s trauma simply because you didn’t experience it in the same way. Instead be grateful that you can have the perspective you do. Some of us, like myself, wish we could forget.

Lost in the Wilderness of 2020

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This morning I was reading my Bible. Sometimes when I’m reading the Word the passages will fly by as my eyes peruse them, soaking in the scriptural meaning, sure, but not speaking like a sword penetrating my soul. Does that make sense? What I mean is, sometimes I read the words, and while they’re good words, they read just like words. But other times, I read the words, and like living words they reach out and grab me by the neck, shaking me and saying, “listen to this, child.” I guess it’s like my kids. Sometimes they hear me. But other times, they really hear me!

Anyway, this morning I read a particular passage from Psalms. I like the Psalms, sure, but most of the time I’m just like, yeah, David, dude, that is so true. I prefer the words in red when I’m looking for some truth to shake me, but I’ve also noticed that God has spoken to me in the middle of one of the most seemingly boring books of the Bible (Numbers), so I know He can speak revelations through more than just Revelations. If you know what I mean. But back to Psalms.

Psalm 78:15 He split the rocks in the wilderness
and gave them water as abundant as the seas.

Talk about timely. If you’re not familiar, this Psalm is referencing a time in the past. The writer is remembering the goodness of God to supply His people, the Israelites, water to drink when they were traveling through the desert and dying of thirst. I mean, imagine the scene. Sun beating on your face, nothing but dry sand in sight. You cry out to your leader, “we’re thirsty, man. Our water bottles went dry miles back. I don’t see a rest stop anywhere close!”

They were in the desert, no water, no river, no oasis, no spring. Just rocks, sand, and a thirsty crowd. But God! He tells Moses to hit his staff on a rock, and to the surprise and delight of the group, water comes out. And not just a trickle, either. It flowed out like a rushing river, as abundant as an ocean.

Y’all, I don’t know about you, but this year has been like a desert for me. Sure, I knew the God who parted the Red Sea, but I’ve felt lost in the wilderness of 2020. As a critical care nurse, watching large numbers of my patient population die of a virus we’re still learning about, it’s been hard. My job is to make people better, but that hasn’t come easy this year. It hasn’t hardly come at all.

And the relationships! I’ve suffered broken friendships, a broken heart, and a disillusioned mind. As an extremely sensitive soul, this year actually sent me into a dark depression, and while I don’t like admitting it, I spent almost two months laying solely in bed on my days off work. I lost weight, I lost sleep, and I almost lost hope. I reached out to family and friends for prayer when I realized how bad I was feeling, and I reached out to my doctor as well. I haven’t experienced a season of darkness like this in over twenty years. I thought my walk with Jesus was too mature to feel so helpless, but this year showed me that I need more of Him than ever before.

2020 has been my wilderness, and perhaps it’s been yours too. I just want to remind you of the things our Father can do. He can take a rock and wring it out like a sponge, so He can certainly rain His Spirit into our dry and cracked crevices. That is what I’m needing.

This morning I stood in the shower and I asked God if there was a single word He had for me for the New Year?

“Journey,” He said. “You may have stopped traveling, but you haven’t stopped going places with me.”

I told a friend earlier that my goal was to travel into the new year with as little weight as possible. No, I’m not talking about a diet resolution. I’m talking about the weight of this world that we often carry. When the Israelites were in the desert hungry, the Lord rained down manna. Bread from heaven. He gave them just enough for each day (excluding the extra the day before the Sabbath). If they tried to gather more and carry it to the next day, it rotted. That happens in our lives too. We aren’t meant to be self-reliant, but rather God-dependent. We cannot try to gather for ourselves the things He never intended, and the worries of yesterday will only fester as we carry them into tomorrow.

So, I lay down the weight of this past year, and I go forward into the new year with just enough for each day. My rock-splitting Father will provide the flow of living water I need as I journey further into His plan for my life.

I’m Done With God

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“Don’t preach to me. I’m done with God.”

This is something a friend said to me recently, and afterwards it really got me to thinking. At the time I remember my head said, “He’s not done with you, though,” yet the words that came out of my mouth were more subdued.

“Ok.”

That is what I had said. To back down was easier than to engage, but that doesn’t mean it’s always the best answer. Thinking over the situation I realized my friend was done like a lot of people were done. It wasn’t so much that he was done with God, but rather that He was done with religion. I get it.

Religion, to me, is like book learning. I read all the material in nursing school. I even took notes. But I did not develop a love for the field until I entered into it hands on. I mean, I was intrigued by anatomy and physiology. The idea of healing made me happy. But it wasn’t until I saw the power of how my healing hands affected another human being that the field of nursing brought me joy. If I just looked at it as a paycheck, I’m sure I would have found something easier on my back with better hours long ago. Droves of nurses flee the bedside because the stress of the field is frustrating and overwhelming. Some of us stay because we’ve fallen in love with what we do. I think for much of the world, they’re easily burned out on religion. I get it.

My friend had asked me some questions about that angry God in the sky. I think the hellfire and damnation part was causing a great divide in his heart. He couldn’t understand how he could follow a Father who would let good friends of his not experience eternity in Heaven. I think he was kinda seeing God like the mean kid in high school who threw the best parties, but you only got invited if your parent’s bank account was up to par. I get it. Book learning will only teach you so much. Heart learning is the only way to get the right answers.

At the time I simply said, “I’m not the judge of who goes to heaven or hell. I leave that up to Him.” But I should have said more.

I should have admitted, “I don’t know all the answers, but I do know my Father.”

I know Jesus. And to know Him is to trust Him.

I don’t know why good people die young. I don’t know why my mother died at 54, or why a good friend of mine just died at 51. But I do know God is good. I didn’t just learn that by going to church, and not even just by taping some inspirational Bible verses on my bathroom mirror. I learned it by love.

I don’t know what happens when hurting, lost people die. I know what scriptures say about things like “weeping and gnashing of teeth,” and I believe that the only way to eternal life is through Jesus, but I don’t know what happens in the unseen. I don’t know what happens on a spiritual plain between here and there. But I know Him. I know He is love. I know He is forgiveness. I know He is the way.

I’m not a Biblical scholar, and I’m not an expert on the law. But I do know Grace. I know that it saves. I do know mercy, and I know the Father’s is abundant.

I think my friend, and a lot of people out there aren’t so much done with God as they are just getting started with Him. The beginning of any relationship can be rocky. The Holy Spirit calls us in. Our hearts are made to be filled with Him. But changing the way we live our lives? That will never come by memorizing scripture. It will come, though, by falling in love with the One who breathed those words into life. And that sweet Ruach, breath longs to blow off the pages into our lives.

This is hard to write. See, I don’t want to discount the truth of the words written in the Bible, but I do want to impress that they are more than just words we must adhere to. They are a doorway into a relationship, a happy home built into our hearts, and therein the answers are found. Without the relationship the words can be meaningless. I know many atheists who have read the Bible front to back. Without the love embossed on the pages, we lose sight of the author’s heart.

I don’t know all the answers to this broken world, but I do know the heart of the God who saved it. I found that the difficult questions of life no longer bothered me as much when I put my focus on the final answer to it all. Jesus. I remember a song I learned when I was young, based on scripture.

Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness. And all these things will be added unto you.

It was true all along. To seek is to find, and to find is to know. To know isn’t to know all the answers, but it is to know that whatever the answer is, it is good. It is good because He is good. There are so many things we cannot understand, fathom, or explain, but we can get a little bit closer to the answers by knowing His heart. All I know is, my God is love, and He loves all His children. I will trust Him to sort it out and do things in a magnificently beautiful way. A way that upends religion, much like He upended those tables.

I said before that I didn’t think my friend was so much done with God, but rather he hadn’t got good and started yet. What I’m saying is, you can go to church every Sunday and listen to the entire sermon, but until you spend time alone with Jesus, talking to Him, reading His words, and asking Him to speak the truth of those words through His Holy Spirit into your heart, you’re gonna get tripped up on the details. You’re gonna think the Judge in the sky is angry over your sins, and you’ll forget the Savior who said, “forgive them, Father, they don’t know what they’re doing.” Even as they tortured and killed Him! He spilled His blood for the crowds that yelled “crucify Him,” and until you know that Jesus like a best friend, you’re going to be done too.

Religion will make you say grace before a meal, but relationship will have you give away your last bit of food. Like any relationship, that is cultivated by time together, a love life with Jesus will change your perspective of who He is.

You won’t say, “how can God do this to me!”

You’ll pray, “Jesus, help me through this. I don’t know what you’re doing through this, but I know it must be for my good.”

God loves us too much to be a big, mean kid with a magnifying glass burning ants on the sidewalk. But the only way to see Him as He intends is to get to know Him. I should have told my friend when he asked me tough questions, “my Father, the Dad I know, He isn’t looking down from the clouds with a menacing grin while He throws people in a fire pit.”

If that’s who you think God is, then I would encourage you to dive a little deeper. Get to know Him, and then all the hard questions will have the same easy answer. Realize you’re not done; you never really got started. And He is certainly no where near completed with us.

Wrecking Grace

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I don’t usually share interactions I have with others, but I felt this was a good learning tool for us all. I always say I’m a work in progress, and I think we should all strive each and every day to grow into the people God intended us to be. I read a classic devotional just this morning that stated, “it takes God all time and eternity to make a man and woman after His own purposes,” (Oswald Chambers). With that in mind I keep my heart open to how I might most emulate Jesus.

I recently shared this image on social media.

The original poster wrote, “no matter where you stand, history is being made, and that brings me to tears ❤️”

It also touched my heart to see this powerful image. The fact is that women, and especially women of color, have not been afforded the same opportunities in this country. To witness such gains is a sight to behold. There are many things in (of) this world that are not right, and racism and unequal rights are one.

Not long after sharing this post I started receiving political comments. Yes, Kamala Harris is a Democrat and Vice President elect, but I wasn’t fishing for a political argument when I shared this. Sometimes I forget that we all see things in a different light.

One friend on my post said, “it’s a shame that a woman that wants to legalize prostitution and murder the unborn is praised and admired.”

To which I replied, “it’s not necessary to comment negatively on a post where I’m celebrating and supporting friends of color (and all women) who have finally (after way too long) obtained a well respected government office. I think perhaps that’s a problem with society today, and sadly the breakdown of Christianity and its witness to a lost world. We cannot manage to hold onto our values without crushing others. I am a pro life lover of Jesus. I also support minorities as Jesus commanded. The wonderful thing about life is we can do multiple things. I choose to do my multiple things in love.”

My friend ended up replying that she wasn’t against women or minorities, that I must have misunderstood her. And here’s the thing, I never thought she was. I assumed her passion for politics and pro life issues caused her to comment negatively about the VP. The problem is, many people do misunderstand our intentions when we polarize issues. So I wanted to share a few things I truly believe in my heart and spirit to be true.

You can disagree with someone politically, yet still love them. To love them is to give them worth. To love them is to see them as God sees them, and to understand they are made in His image whether they realize it or act like it. One friend commented she’d be happier if Kamala was a Godly woman. I would too. But as I told my friend, perhaps we can pray for her. We can pray that God will place a loving person in her path who shines the light of Jesus rather than condemning her for where she is in this life.

There are more than two sins in the Bible. Murder (abortion for the Conservative) and Homosexuality aren’t God’s top agenda for 2021. People forget this, but pride is a sin. Sorry, Mr. Trump. Rage is a sin. Dang, that’s half of my Facebook timeline. Greed is a sin. But I’m sure that’s not behind anyone’s stance on taxes, government aid, or immigration. Sorry, that was sarcasm. Like I said, I’m still working on me.

My point is, you cannot hold firm to one topic of this world and let that be your guiding force. You cannot decide to spew hateful comments, ridicule people, or allow other sinful behavior just because someone’s value system isn’t like yours. If you think this world needs Jesus, then show them Jesus. Turn the other cheek, give your coat when they ask for your shirt, touch the lepers, feed the hungry, stand up for the marginalized, and let all that you do be done in love. Eat with prostitutes and sinners, and show them unconditional love. Love the Lord with all your heart, and love others as yourself.

It’s ok to be a Christian and still love minorities. You can support your friends who say, “black lives matter” because they do! You can lay down politics long enough to answer back, “yes, your life does matter. I’m sorry people have made you feel like it doesn’t.”

It’s ok to love people who don’t have the same moral compass as you. Again, how do we love? Not by condemnation or judgement, but by esteeming them with worth. We are all children of God. Like I tell my girls, “just because your sister makes you mad doesn’t mean you aren’t sisters. You can’t say you hate her. You can’t speak ugly things to her. You’re sisters.”

Jesus said He didn’t come to judge the world, but to save it. If you’re a Christian then you believe salvation comes through belief in Christ. So, how do we lead others to this saving grace? I’ll give you a hint. It’s not by building a ‘me against them’ mentality. It’s not by voting red, blue, or anything else. I have never seen such worldly thinking as this year. This earth is not our home. An election isn’t our eternity, and a president isn’t our savior. Our eternity is life with the Lord, and our commission here on earth is to tell people this good news. Y’all! We’re failing miserably. We are alienating the lost. We’re killing our witness. We are wrecking the gift of grace by not showing it at all. We must do better.

I don’t even know how to end this post, and when I don’t know what to say, I just pray.

God, help us. Speak your truth to our hearts. May we abide in mercy, and extend that to those hurting around us. May we lay down pride, and see your love for each person we meet. May we arise at the end of this fiery year as a new and better church, a bride who has her eyes fixed on her groom, not on the font of the wedding invitations. May we remember our end goal of victory, and not fuss over who all is and is not playing according to all the rules. You are the ultimate referee making those calls. May we remember that. But mostly, Lord, make us extravagant lovers, the kind of people who would lay down their life, even for the sinners who don’t deserve it. Because we are all the undeserving, yet you loved us anyway. Remind us to extend that same grace and light of love each day. We’ve forgotten.

The Unexpected Peace I Found in Pain

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I was a few months away from my thirtieth birthday when my life fell apart. I had a beautiful home, new vehicles shining in the double garage, and the financial stability to add to the rooms of my house pretty much anything my heart desired. Four bedrooms, but basically silent halls. I had a wonderful 9-5, good friends, and who can forget the double shelves of alphabetized DVDs. Life was good. Or as good as life got, anyway. Right?!

I can remember the heartache like no other. My throat was raw with it. The deep pain in my chest rose with bile and acid up my esophagus, and the tears just kept falling. They had not stopped since the night before, and glancing at my red-rimmed eyes in my new car’s mirror made me glad I had not reported to my job site that morning. They would have known immediately.

“What’s wrong with me?!” I wondered.

I drove along an unknown roadway. Despite having tossed and turned most of the night, and regardless of the six pack I had numbly swallowed to help usher in the sandman, I had managed to leave my happy (looking) home early to get to work on time. My promotion had brought along new training, and it seemed the best bit of luck that this particular day would be one spent commuting over an hour to work, alongside strangers who wouldn’t question my melancholy. This was back when I believed in things like luck or coincidence.

“Why am I so unlovable?!” I questioned the pristine interior of my vehicle.

I was almost thirty years old, and I felt like I should be thinking about starting a family. Not this. My mind traveled back to the prior week, how my primary care doctor had questioned my desire for children in light of the birth control prescription she was writing. I didn’t know when she asked why we hadn’t started a family yet. We both wanted children. But in the silence of the rubber meeting the roadway that morning, I knew. I finally understood.

“What did I do wrong?!” I cried.

I racked my brain in the dim, morning light. I tried to be a good wife. I didn’t nag. I kept fit and trim. I had even fixed that flat chest situation. Thank you, Mr. Surgeon. I was a good cook, a complimentary companion, and always quick to concede in an argument. So why did he not want me?

“I don’t want to be married anymore,” he had said the night before.

He had asked me to take a seat, then had spoken the words matter-of-fact, like turning off love and ending a marriage was as easy as changing the color pattern of the living room. Perhaps easier.

“Help me, God!” I cried into the silent car, as I replayed the night before my marriage ended.

God. I still believed in Him. I had never stopped, really. I just hadn’t spoken to Him in a while. In fact, the last time I remembered hearing His voice was before I had gotten married. As things began to heat up in our relationship, some six years prior, I remember the whisper of the Holy Spirit reminding me of something I had learned as a young woman at a discipleship training school overseas. The speaker had cautioned the room full of us young adults about the dangers of “missionary-dating.” You might be familiar with the Bible’s instruction about being unequally yoked, and this was the caution the Lord brought to my mind.

So, over a table full of empty beer bottles, in a smoky bar, I had asked my soon-to-be spouse if he believed in Jesus.

“Of course! I’m Catholic,” he answered with a laugh, and that had been the extent of my prayerful consideration of our relationship.

I don’t want to paint the object of my (then) affection and ex-husband in a bad light. I certainly was no saint, and the point of this story is me. I had ignored the voice of God, His guidance, His Spirit, and relationship with Him for over six years. Yet in the midst of my utter failure and pain, He was the One I cried out to for help.

“Help me, God,” I had cried, and calling for His assistance came as naturally as if I had been doing it all along.

And there, in my pain, He met me. There in my brokenness, He spoke to my heart. The words I heard from the Lord at that moment were like a lightening bolt, yet also, simultaneously, like the whisper of a trusted friend placing their hand on my sagging shoulder and speaking the advice I needed. It’s not important what He said to me in that moment, but I can tell you it rang as one of the truest things that has ever been spoken into my life. It was exactly what I needed in that moment, where I felt so unworthy and unloved, but also what I needed to pick myself up from the mess I was in, and move on from a broken situation I could not control or mend.

I arrived to the alternate job site carrying some things I did not expect to find. Hope for the future, and peace for my current situation. I had been feeling a hurt and pain I couldn’t make my way through, but as I put my car in park in an unfamiliar lot, I knew I could make it with God carrying me. Somehow, and for some reason, He had met me in the midst of my pain. I didn’t deserve an answer. In fact, I had given Him the silent treatment for years. Yet when I cried out in my hurt, my Father answered. I still don’t think I deserved that, but thankfully He is a good, good Father. Compassionate, kind, and unending in mercy.

Life has never been the same since I encountered God in the middle of a lonely highway over thirteen years ago. It didn’t immediately become a pathway of roses, but I do know it began to look up from there. He pulled me from my pit, and I have kept in constant communication with Him ever since. I mean, a God who answers a wayward child who is reaping what she sowed… that is a relationship I could never turn my back on again.

The Lord not only pulled me from my pit, but He filled me with a new song. He gave me a new life, a wonderful husband, beautiful children, a path with purpose, forgiveness, redemption, and all the blessings that are promised in His Word. I haven’t written about my divorce in a long time, but this story has been on my mind lately. Although the circumstances are sad and broken, the healing and restoration is something I never want to forget. I’m so grateful we can serve a God of redemption, who writes us a new story, even when we’ve ripped the pages. He truly makes all things new. This story, while my personal account, is also the story of all mankind. We are all the broken pieces, who had searched for fulfillment in all the wrong places, yet aren’t left on our own. All we have to do is call for help, and He will hear. Even if we haven’t spoken in years. He hears, and He rescues the fallen.

#relationshipgoals

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The awesomeness of God is all-encompassing, and one of the billion things I love about serving the Great I Am is the ability to see my relationship with Him in multiple ways. I remember as a young woman, new to the faith, I found great comfort in the Father Heart aspect of God. As a product of past rejection from an earthly father, it gave me peace to have a Heavenly Dad who would never leave me. Since then I’ve learned to dive deeper into the multifaceted faces of the Lord, and I’ve found lasting relationship in my explorations. At times, He is my groom, the lover of my soul. Other times, a brother, a friend. I’ve even found peace with verses describing the Lord like a nursing mother, even though modern religion would raise us to see God as male only. The thing is, God is so much more. My Savior is everything. But this morning the Holy Spirit spoke a new description to my heart, and I found it so wonderful that I wanted to share.

This morning I was listening to worship music, meditating on the words and my relationship with the Lord, when I felt the Holy Spirit impress these words to my heart.

I’m courting you. It’s like a long distance relationship.

I’ll admit that made me chuckle at first. I mean, if ever there was a relationship I stunk at, it was a long distance one, but as I thought on it more, the comparison made perfect sense. After all, I couldn’t see Jesus, but I knew I loved Him. In fact, the love was so deep and powerful, it often times made me weep with joy. No one had ever made me feel that way.

My past experience with a long distance relationship as a woman in my early twenties had not gone well. He was a great guy, but the distance didn’t make my heart grow fonder; it only made it grow lonely. I mentioned that early rejection previously, and I’m sure that had a lot to do with my need for affection. I felt as if I needed almost constant reassurance and proof of love. I needed to hear the words, and I needed the physical touch. With a thousand miles separating me and this particular fella, it didn’t bode well. I found proximal affection in someone within my zip code, and because of my unfaithfulness, the distant relationship fell apart.

The thing is, something wild happened when I entered a relationship with Jesus. It wasn’t immediate, but more aptly developed over time. It seemed that the more time I spent with the Lord in prayer and reading His love letters to me in scripture, the less I needed that aforementioned affirmation. I knew Jesus loved me. I knew it deep down in my soul. I didn’t need a physical hand holding mine because His Holy Spirit was with me always, and in the lonely times when I couldn’t feel His presence, all I had to do was revisit those love letters in the Bible. They reminded me of His unending affections.

As a young woman I had problems with my self esteem, but once I began a relationship with Christ I knew my worth in Him. I knew in my heart that He adored me, that I was precious to Him, and that despite what I may mess up, He loved me unconditionally.

When you look at your life on earth from a kingdom perspective, knowing that this life is but a breath, and eternity in Heaven is the ultimate goal, you can wonder what your purpose is in this short spell on earth. This morning the Lord reminded me that a main purpose is to develop my relationship with Him. It’s like a long distance courtship, in that I cannot look into the face of my Savior just yet, but it’s a wonderful experience falling deeper in love with Him before the wedding. One day the church will stand before the bridegroom, but we won’t stand at the altar as strangers in some arranged marriage. We will be in the presence of the one we have grown to love deeply. I can remember standing at the altar with my husband. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him; I was so enamored and full of happiness! Can you imagine the joy we will feel on our eternal wedding day?!

In my life on earth I am courting for the greatest relationship of all times. As I make my way through a fallen world full of sin and hardship, I am drawn into the strong arms of Jesus. He comforts me in my trouble. In earthly wedding vows they say things about promising to stick it out through good times and bad times, but many marriages will end in divorce because the couple can’t make it through the bad times together. In our relationship with the Lord we are afforded the bad news first, so to speak. We learn to love Him through the brokenness of this world, and in that we begin to understand all that He can be for us. We spend an average of 72 years learning how to love deeply and unconditionally, through richer or poorer, through sickness and health, and then we are given the ultimate wedding gift and feast as our reward. An eternity with the One who never left our side through it all. In that sense, it’s the furthest thing from long distance there is.

As for now, although I cannot stand before Him, I love Him. Although I can’t see His face, I feel His heart for me. Even though we exist on different realms, so to speak, He never leaves me or forsakes me. My goal in (this) life is to love Him deeper, and to raise my children the same. To show the world the light of His love, and to prepare for the wedding that I know is one day coming.

Why You Mad, Though?!

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I have never seen people angrier than they’ve been in 2020. Am I right?! I mean, I’ve seen people mad about masks more than I ever imagined possible. As a healthcare worker, I assumed face masks to be used for the protection of self and others, but this year I learned they’re actually an affront to personal freedom. I can’t believe I’ve been unknowingly under the thumb of tyrannical, hospital administration for twenty years!

I joke, but in all seriousness, have you noticed the tense nature of human interaction at large this year? Barely a quarter into the pandemic, groups began to emerge. People separated by their opinions, but worse, pushed apart by those same disagreements. It no longer became a simple difference of ideas, but rather a battle for who was right.

I could have probably ignored the strong will and raging meme wars if not for the fact that it continued past the stay-at-home orders. The Country began to set-up differing camps based not just on COVID-19 theories, but rather separated on issues of racial equality. A topic that would seem cut and dry (as in, all men are created equal) suddenly became convoluted by matters that shouldn’t. In other words, someone’s ability to be murdered was weighed against their possible, past criminal record. And instead of agreeing that marginalized minorities should be supported, a sadly large number of people argued the idea that injustice even existed. Racism became as much a hoax to some as coronavirus had been deemed, and then the ridiculousness really began.

People began to question the salvation of fellow Christians based on political affiliation. Society began to rate civil issues on a scale. Such as, human trafficking compared to racism, or pedophilia up against civil rights. We suddenly became increasingly concerned over the validity of hospital recording data for patient demise, and the layman became an expert in things like carbon dioxide levels while wearing a facial covering. It was proclaimed that respect for fellow man could not be displayed by resting your weight on a knee, lest it undo your dedication to a Higher Power. We learned Pizza was more than food, when combined with the word Gate, and apparently the Queen of England is into cannibalism. You could question the moral compass of a stranger on Facebook, but not the POTUS. You could ignore the need of those hurting around you, but pounce immediately on anyone with an opinion different from your own. You could rate sin on a scale from overlook-able to definitely burning in hell, and you could be certain that everything going on around you meant the end is near.

I think we can all agree it’s been a year of firsts for us. First time in a pandemic, first time to see things like flags change, or Walmart closing one entire entrance of its store. Mask mandates, racial equality measures enacted, and by far the worst presidential debate in history (although, I’ll admit I’m going off hearsay; couldn’t stomach watching in myself). I could probably make a pretty lengthy list of things that have blown my mind this year, and I’ve even seen some pretty good memes joking about how nothing in 2020 would come as a surprise anymore. But y’all, I am still in awe over the behavior of mankind. I’m still surprised by the attitude of society. In fact, I’m devastated by the anger I’ve seen displayed across the board. It’s mind blowing.

The other day I was praying about the anger. I mean, everyone is on edge (or so it seems). Everyone is mad about something, easily offended, and way too quick to speak in anger. Myself included, I’ll admit. So not only has this been a year of firsts in previously mentioned regards, but also a year of the first time I’ve ever seen so much unbridled rage, division, and disagreement. It’s been terrible. Can we at least agree on that?!

But anyway, as I was praying I felt the Lord speak this to my heart… “They’re afraid.”

It was only two, simple words, but they hit me like a ton of bricks. The truth of the statement rang solidly with my spirit. The thing is, the majority of the time (as in most of the time), anger is simply fear manifested. Anger is fear of loss. And there’s been a lot of warranted fear of loss this year. Fear for our health, fear for our freedom, fear for our lives, fear for our country, and fear for the innocent or mistreated among us. I’m not saying I don’t get it, but I am saying we need to deal with this another way. We cannot allow fear of the unknown to mutate into anger for what’s in front of us. We say that we know this isn’t a battle of flesh and blood we fight, yet that’s exactly who we’re fighting against. We say the real enemy is evil, yet we feel it necessary to give evil our own labels, such as Democrat or Republican. We take our fear of civil unrest and lump it together in a group titled BLM, Antifa, or white supremacy. We try and ease our fears of evil among us by becoming “woke” to the inner secrets of society’s worst. If we can give evil a tangible face we somehow feel a measure of relief. And before you misunderstand, I do believe evil manifests itself in the natural, working through man, but we must remember that the real enemy has already been defeated.

I believe if we could adjust our mindsets to one of a Kingdom nature, we could let go of our fear and loosen the grip our anger has taken. If we can surrender our offense, understanding that God is in control of all things, we can move forward in Kingdom purposes. We can lead people to an eternal perspective rather than bickering over worldly matters that are here today and gone tomorrow. This isn’t easy! It takes daily redoing. Every day we must lay down our flesh, our judgement, and our offense in exchange for God’s truth. We let go of fear, we humble ourselves, and we have faith that the God who began a good work in us (all of us) is going to complete it.

I saw a lot of my friends on Facebook (from all walks of life, opinions, and political affiliations) agree on one thing. They agreed that the presidential debate was horrible. But y’all, those guys gave us exactly what they thought we wanted. They called each other names for all the watching name-callers. They were rude, petty, argumentative, unforgiving, and prideful, just as the majority of our Country has been this year. How can we expect more from our elected leaders than we have supplied ourselves? We are reaping what we sow, but I’m trying to be hopeful that we can turn it around. So, let’s try and agree that the mess we’re in, we are all responsible for, and we can only fix it together. Deal?

How to Hear the Voice of God Better

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Do you remember the Kevin Costner film from 1989 titled Field of Dreams? In the movie (based on a novel) an Iowa corn farmer is walking through his field when he sees a vision of a baseball field and hears a voice say, “build it and he will come.” Although everyone thinks he’s crazy, he is so certain that he’s supposed to build a baseball field in his cornfield so Shoeless Joe Jackson can come play there, that despite public opinion he plows down his corn and steps out in this unconventional calling. I won’t ruin the plot for you if you haven’t seen it, but let’s just say that his commitment to carry forth the word he’s given does more for his personal life and spiritual growth than something as simple as a baseball legend coming to visit.

The words uttered in that film, “build it and he will come,” resounded with me deeply when I recalled them yesterday and not because I loved that old movie so much, but rather due to the spiritual significance they spoke.

If we build it, He will come.

Our bodies are a temple for the Holy Spirit, and as such, when we consecrate that space for Him, He is faithful to meet us there. The problem with our temples is they become too crowded for His Spirit to comfortably reside there. Our minds are filled with worries, and our hearts filled with anxiety. We harbor guilt, anger, and unforgiveness on the shelves of our mind. We spend our time on television, social media, or our busy schedule more than we do laying a good foundation in our spirit. Hey, I’m guilty too, but if you desire to hear more from the Lord, I’ve found you must close out the distraction and noise of this world to be able to listen. His voice is a whisper.

  

I’ve taken to practicing a daily unloading of the world. Usually first thing in the morning while in the shower I will quiet my heart and mind, close my eyes, and picture that I am standing at the foot of a throne. In the highest seat is Jesus, and I mentally and emotionally unload my burdens. I pray in surrender and tell the Lord something like, “today I give you all my anxiety, worries, and uncertainty. I exchange them for your Spirit and peace.”

I’ve noticed a tremendous upswing in my day with this simple practice of surrender. In it, I am acknowledging His supreme power in my life. I’m admitting I cannot do it alone. Many times I will imagine myself walking in a field with Jesus, simply spending carefree time with my Savior. I will pray out loud something like, “thank you that I am in you, and you are in me, and we are one with the Father, seated in Heavenly places.” By repeating these powerful words of truth I am acknowledging scripture, believing that the troubles of this world mean little compared to His power, His kingdom, and His plans for me.

When we can pray, listen, and read the Word, the Lord will speak to our hearts. He will impart His plans, His knowledge, and His heart, but I’ve found the key to hearing that still, small voice is pushing out the noise that distracts us. And when I say noise, I don’t just mean the television or screaming children. I’m referring to the noise in our heads, the to-do lists, or the lies from the enemy that say how we perform in life is more important than who God made us to be. The lies that compare us to others, or worry about the opinion of others versus who God says we are. To hear from the Lord is to lay down your life, meaning you would give up anything and everything, including and foremost the things of this world.

There is no room in our bodies, hearts, and minds for anything other than God, but we continue to fill the spaces with it. The thing is, those things don’t satisfy, they just leak out leaving us feeling empty. If we build it, though, He will come. If we empty our houses, clean them of the things not of God, and open the doors in anticipation of His Spirit, He will come and make His home in us. And much like our friend Kevin Costner learned, He will bring us much greater things than we ever imagined.

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.

To the Moms in the Midst of a Pandemic

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To All My Mom Friends,

You are doing great! Do you hear me? Great. Cut yourself some slack. None of the parenting books or websites ever prepared us for what we would face as mothers and fathers in 2020.

As a nurse serving on the frontlines of the COVID-19 pandemic, in a hard hit area, I’ve gotten a lot of messages from fellow mothers with questions and concerns. They always start with, “I’m sorry, I know you’re busy,” or “I’m sorry, I know you probably get a lot of these messages.”

First off, no apologies allowed. I’m honored to be asked, and the fact that you’re seeking and asking questions means you’re a phenomenal parent. Don’t feel guilty for being a conscientious mother who cares. You should be applauded.

Mothering is hard. It’s hard when they’re growing in your belly and you can’t see if they’re ok. It’s hard when they’re newborns and wake you up every two hours, so small, perfect, and incredibly needy. It’s hard when they’re older, craving independence, yet still needing your guidance. It’s hard whether you work full time or you stay home full time, as I’ve done both. The point is, it’s hard all the time, but I don’t think the worst of sleepless nights or the grumpiest of preteen moods could prepare us for the season we are in right now. It’s unprecedented. It’s unprecedented for healthcare, government, and the school system. It’s unprecedented for us.

As a mother we are responsible for the well-being, be it physical, mental, or emotional, of our offspring. That’s a challenge on any given day, but factor in a novel virus, well, that makes it an emotional rollercoaster. This pandemic has made us worry about our own health, the health of our aging parents, and the health of our checking accounts. Balance on top of that the worries inherent in motherhood, and you’re like the Leaning Tower of Pisa. Where is Super Man to straighten that up?! Extra points for the middle aged moms who get the reference.

My point is, who wouldn’t question themselves during this time in our country? I mean, does anyone really know all the facts, the whole story, and all the legit answers?! But who questions themselves the most? Moms, of course. We not only want to parent the kiddos. We want to knock it out of the park. We want to not screw them up for life. And definitely not have them infected by a virus that we still don’t really understand.

Yesterday I took my seven year old and nine year old to the grocery store. It’s the first time they’ve been since March. I cleaned the shopping cart and put them inside it with little masks and instructions not to touch anything! I couldn’t keep them locked away forever, but I could be wise.

I knew some people would judge me for taking them out in public when I didn’t have to.

I knew other people would judge me for putting masks on them. They would say I was living in fear, but that wasn’t the case at all. I was living as a mom, in the middle of a pandemic, the best way I knew how.

As a nurse mom, working at the hospital bedside, I understood the seriousness of this virus, and that is why other moms asked me for advice. At the end of the day, though, I realized we’re all the same. I may have seen tragedy related to this virus that I can’t forget, and that tragedy affects my parenting decisions, but in the end we are all doing the best we can in an uncertain, ever-changing situation. Here are some tips I’ve tried to adopt and pass along. They are kingdom minded thought processes that guide my actions.

First, drop the mom guilt. Don’t feel too bad for your child. This is something you’re going through as well. At least my daughters don’t have to keep people alive. Lol. I’m just saying, it’s ok if you don’t get this right, because who really knows what that is. Feel like you overreacted about something? It’s cool. Just start fresh tomorrow. His mercies are new every morning.

Two, understand this is just a season. This isn’t forever. This sucks, but we will get through it. There will always be next summer. There will be another dance recital, ballgame, or birthday party. If it makes you feel more at peace to be the “mean mom” then be the best mean mom on the block. Say no. They will live.

Next, let’s talk about the things they legit are missing. Graduation was a big one for some of my friends. Prom. Senior year events. Like I said before, this really sucks, but it is a season. This whole existence in these failing, human bodies here on earth is a season. We are here today and gone tomorrow. So when we stand before Jesus can we be content with our actions? Did we carry ourselves in a kind, caring manner? Did we model for our children compassion, teaching them to care more for the health of others than themselves? Did we place too much importance on worldly, temporal things, or did we value relationships and actions of love?

In a world where personal freedom ranks higher in our home than compassionate servanthood to our fellow man, we might need to re-evaluate our perspective. We want to be more concerned about the state of our children’s souls, the souls of their friends, than we are the perfect pictures of an event they won’t remember in the long run. Let’s build their spirits, rather than their resumes. Told you this would be kingdom-minded content.

I think we’re in a fluid situation. Heck, I think we’re in end times. I think we have to get to a place where we can take things one day at a time. The Lord told me recently that this stuff going on in our world is too heavy. We can’t carry the weight of tomorrows, just the weight of today. We have to daily seek the Lord for what is right on that given day.

Do you feel comfortable taking them to a busy store? Great. You do what feels comfortable for your family. Just be wise. Be humble. Be kind. Be selfless.

Do you feel like public school isn’t safe right now? You’re not alone. Welcome to homeschooling. You can do this!

Do you worry about their socialization? It’s ok. I worry about my own. I miss talking to strangers and showing them the love of Jesus. This is just a season. Children are resilient, and we will all get through this.

Are you overly worried? Hang in there, my friend. I would encourage you not to trust in horses and chariots, but trust in the Lord who saves. Let Him place a hedge of protection around your family.

Are you not concerned at all, and you feel like this thing has been blown way out of proportion? That’s okay, too. No one said we must always agree. Just please understand if my family is hesitant to get out and run through the games at Chuck E. Cheese with y’all right now. We’re still wiping everything down with Lysol and washing our hands. We’re both just moms trying to make our way through a crazy world. I pray we can hang out when all this ends.

Here’s the thing. No one likes 2020, but we still have a ways to go. Let’s cut each other some slack. Let’s cut ourselves some slack. Let’s cut our kids some slack. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff, the big stuff, or even the unprecedented stuff. Let’s just do the best we can for each day and let God sort out the rest.

Praying for us all,

A fellow mom doing the best she can