Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

How to Feel Joy in Pain

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Yesterday I was driving to run a few errands. I had one day off before returning to my stressful job in the ICU, and that meant the day was dwindling away with unpleasurable tasks rather than sitting by the pool and reading a book. Yet, despite my mundane to-do’s, I cranked up the radio with a smile, hummed happily as I admired the blue sky, and drove forward in joy while the warmth of the day rested on my happy face. I had a minuscule moment of surprise over my unexpected elation, before it hit me why I was walking on sunshine at all. Every day got better than the last!

Look, I’m a realist. I’m not going to try and sprinkle rainbows on your cloudy day. I’m not spouting a magic cure or trying to be a lifestyle coach of optimism. But what I will do is share with you my life experiences.

I suffer from depression, and I also suffer from anxiety. Some days are better than others. Some days, though, I’m sad for no reason, and that drives me mad. I go through seasons where my melancholy mood is worse than others, and I can be negatively affected by work stress and problems in relationships with friends or family. I’m an over-thinker, and my persistence in going over a problem repeatedly will keep me up at night. What I’m trying to say is, I’m not without trouble. I’m not perfect. But I have found what helps.

I’ll go ahead and get this out of the way… I’m on an antidepressant/anti anxiety medication prescribed by my doctor. In fact, I reached out to my physician a couple of months ago when I saw the signs that my condition was worsening and a dose adjustment was necessary. I hate when the devil tries to use our weaknesses against us, like telling us we’re not a “good enough Christian” if we can’t get rid of mental illness by prayer and Bible reading. It’s simply not true!

I come from a long line/family history of mental illness, depression, alcoholism, and suicide. I won’t pretend to be an expert on chemical imbalances and hereditary factors in mental health, but I will say I believe they exist. I’m a believer in nature AND nurture. Your past experiences do affect your future self. Do they control the narrative? No. But we can’t throw out the scars that rejection and other painful instances leave in their wake. Also, I believe in spiritual forces beyond our recognition. I believe in familial curses that can impact one generation after another, and I believe the devil prowls like a lion looking to destroy us. I believe in demonic forces at work in mankind distorting our perception of reality and feeding lies into our thoughts. Never-mind external stressors like working a pandemic in critical care (insert your own personal stressor)!

With so many different factors that play a part in mental health, how can we as Christians say just one thing works? So, if you’ve ever felt guilty, or been made to feel guilty, for seeking medical help for your mental health, please don’t. Throw that out with the garbage. I love Jesus more than the air I breathe, but I still found myself with suicidal ideation the day before my period would start. I talk to God all day long, yet I couldn’t stop myself from worrying about things that were not even things! I read my Bible every day, but I know better than to think I’ve kicked addiction’s butt. I can’t just have a glass of wine and call it a day. It will end up being a whole bottle and headache in the morning. I know the Lord has broken the chains of addiction in my life, but I’m not about to put Him to the test. It’s not necessary. But I digress. I’m just trying to say, this is a broken world. Don’t be surprised if you need a little help picking up the pieces. You can believe in God’s healing and still take an antidepressant. God does much of his healing through the work of His children, be it a counselor or prescription provider.

But let’s get to the meat of this post. I’ve had plenty of patients over the years that have been on a bucket of medication, but they still couldn’t get out of their pit. Remember when I discussed the multifaceted nature of mental health? I believe that my healing, strength, and joy come from Jesus. Yes, I take a daily prescription, and yes, I talk about my feelings, but it’s His strength that keeps me going. Here are a few things that have made a positive difference in my life.

One, I read the Bible every day and spend substantial time in His presence. You can do this a number of ways. I read devotions from the Bible app on my phone. I read encouraging emails from trusted, Christian websites. I will take out my Bible and just open it up where I feel the Holy Spirit leads me and read. That may just be letting it fall open, or going to a book you feel the Spirit impress to your mind. I also journal. I’m going to attach a diagram of words. You can pick one for each day. Get your word, pray and ask God to speak to your heart, and then just write whatever comes out. This is a great way to communicate with Him. On work days I listen to praise music on my commute and I worship like the interior of my car is church on Sunday morning. Some of my best times with the Lord have been in the car!

Image from HIScoach Training Academy

Two, I give Him every day. I discovered my best place to get quiet time that is uninterrupted is in the shower. I bought a shower chair, and I’ll have a seat and talk to my Father. I pray about different things. Yesterday I just talked to Jesus like He was my best friend (because He is), and I told Him different things I had been thinking about my home and work life. He didn’t say anything back, but I knew He was listening, and I felt a weight lifted afterwards. One thing I always do in my shower chair/prayer closet is surrender my life/day to Him. I close my eyes and imagine I’m at the foot of His throne. Then I lay down physical objects that signify my mental battles. I lay down anxiety, depression, worry, doubt, and fear. I also give Him my finances, family, and future. I call it laying down the big three. I ask for more or His Spirit and less of this world. I ask for ears to hear His Spirit and truth over everything else. I do this every single day.

Now, this one I had slacked off on, but I picked it back up because I find it helpful, I see a difference, and it’s super easy. I daily apply the Armor of God (Ephesians 6). I memorized these verses, not exactly word for word, but enough to recite them. I say the full armor out loud and mentally put it on. Take that, Satan! Don’t laugh, bro. It works.

Lastly, I strive to walk in Kingdom Truth. This is sooooo hard. That’s why you see me doing all the above stuff daily. To fight fear, you have to be like a well-trained athlete. You have to daily feed on the truth of God according to scripture. You have to allow that truth to become who you are. The truth of scripture changes you! If you know a Christian who isn’t different from the world and displaying the fruits of the spirit, such as love, patience, kindness, joy, and self-control, then they are just forgetting the truth of God. We all have our moments, but to walk in Kingdom Truth means to understand this world is temporary. The problems we face won’t be forever, but a life full of love in Jesus will last for eternity. Nothing can truly harm us as followers of Him. We don’t fear change, political unrest, or the opinions of others. We don’t allow broken relationships to break us. We understand that while the tears may come right now, that joy comes in the morning (future). This life is a sandcastle, and the waves will eventually sweep it away, but until then keep building your castle for the Lord. Invite others to build with you; even the sinners (oh, wait, that’s all of us). Even the ones persisting in sin (oh, wait, that’s all of us)!

Pain comes, but joy is the River of the Holy Spirit that runs through the heart of every believer. We just forget it’s there. Spending time with the Living Water (Jesus) will remind us of that truth. Depression happens on this earth, but the truth reminds us that His strength is made perfect in our weakness. Like Paul, God won’t always take the thorn from our side, but He will use it to help us find our way. Our way back to His truth. The truth that we are sons and daughters of a King who rules the entire earth and Heavens, yet still absolutely adores little ole you and me. We love because He loves us. We lay down our offenses because He laid down ours. We forgive, as He forgives. We help the hurting. We seek His healing and guidance. We allow trouble to roll off our backs like water off a duck, because He is in control of all things! He fights our battles! He protects, guides, and provides. And remembering this truth, that I have to remind myself of daily, spending time with Him, this truth brings me joy even in the midst of pain.

Why I Haven’t Been Blogging.

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I don’t know if anyone has even noticed, but I haven’t been blogging like I used to do. I’ve been writing regularly on this site for eight years, and I’ve always loved it, until recently. I’m sure some people have assumed I haven’t been as vocal because I’ve been busy working a pandemic as an ICU nurse, and while I have been swamped at the bedside, that’s just not the reason. It’s more disappointing than that.

I have always found joy in sharing the things that the Lord has laid upon my heart. Even when I received angry critiques, death threats, or online harassment, I laughed it off. I knew God had given me the gift and calling to write what I perceived the Holy Spirit was speaking. I never doubted that calling or that gift of knowledge and discernment. And I don’t doubt it now. Not sharing a word on this website has been like ending a relationship with a dear, longtime friend, yet despite the heartache, I simply have been too weary to pick it back up. In essence, as I told a family member recently, I have become disillusioned. This disappointment and awakening to reality has made sharing my thoughts so very hard.

Approximately a year ago it really came to a head. I’ve always heard that you can really see what you’re made of when the heat is turned up. Gosh, this is so true. 2020 really turned up the flame under our lives collectively, and I sadly started noticing what people were made of. It wasn’t the world at large that broke my heart; it was the Christian community. The “church,” the collection of those who claimed Jesus as their Savior, for a large part, were reacting to the heat in a way that did not reflect the character and example of Christ. I’ve always loved the verse that states you will know a tree by its fruit, or when Jesus himself said, “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another (John 13:35).”

I haven’t seen the love. In fact, I’ve seen quite the opposite. I always enjoyed sharing what God was teaching me and revealing to my heart. I never claimed to know it all, and I was always quick to say that I’m a work in progress. I learned that laying down pride and humbling myself daily to the Holy Spirit is so important, because in this posture He reveals His heart to ours. By listening to His direction in humble submission I can see where I have been wrong in the past. And boy, was I wrong.

You see, a large part of me enjoyed the accolades from my fellow Christians. I had not always been a Christian. I didn’t start reading scripture regularly and daily until my thirties. So, as a “newer” believer, I leaned heavily on the church and elders I respected to guide me. Approximately three or four years ago, when I committed to hours of Bible study and quiet time at least 4 days a week, I started to notice a disconnect between the scripture and the behavior of many religious people. In other words, the fruit wasn’t there. Again, this discernment wasn’t from a position of pride. It wasn’t like I thought, “gosh, look at all these church folks not following Jesus like me!” No, it wasn’t like that. More than anything, it was a sad revelation. I became aware of a religious heaviness and spiritual oppression that persisted in some areas. I could feel it. It was heartbreaking.

I continued my seeking daily of God’s will as the years went by. My family sold all our possessions. We went from having everything to basically having nothing. Nothing but each other and God, that is. In this season of casting off the world we found a deeper walk with the Lord. We found God’s priorities for our family. We discovered how to trust Him more deeply and depend completely on His leading. It was glorious!

Along our season of walking deeper with Jesus, came an awakening to the world around us. We became more aware of how we could please the Lord in our daily lives. We changed our actions and behavior based on scripture. We wanted to walk in the Fruits of the Spirit, at all times! Even when the heat got turned up, it seems.

In 2020 the whole world caught fire, but it seemed to me that it was the church that let themselves get burned the most. Not at first. At first everyone was very loving to their neighbor, but as it got hotter out there, the rotten fruit came out. Again, please understand this doesn’t come from a place of pride for me. This comes from a place of heartache for my brothers and sisters in Christ. I haven’t spoken because my heart hurts too much to have uttered a word.

Somewhere in the fire of lockdowns, sickness, and financial strain, my brothers and sisters became very angry. I didn’t have a problem with the anger. I mean, I got angry too. The problem was where the anger was projected.

The Christian community is quick to say “it’s not a battle of flesh and blood we fight, but a spiritual one against the forces of darkness. Like, every believer I’ve ever met will agree. So my question is, why have we been fighting flesh and blood?!

I do blame social media for a large part of the problem. We live in a sinful world, born with a sinful nature of this world, and social media has been more than happy to feed that fleshly character. I have seen blatant, political propaganda be slurped up happily like it was the Gospel, and in this vehicle of political and religious angst, I’ve seen the church derail. Instead of a battle of good and evil, where God always wins in the end, we’ve lost our Kingdom-view glasses, and we’ve started a battle of us against them.

Republicans versus Democrats

BLM versus All Lives Matter

Like, you can’t support the police and support justice and equality.

Somewhere along the way we labeled everything that didn’t fit into our box as unGodly and bad. Vaccines became bad. While they’ve always been a way to combat disease, they suddenly became a way to “take away freedom.” I’m not sure where this started, but it really took off! It became a trend that if you were a Christian you couldn’t get vaccinated. False information began to fly around. Some of the most ridiculous and false information I’ve ever seen. Suddenly the Covid vaccine contained baby parts and changed your DNA. Don’t even get me started on the magnets and chip discussions. But I digress.

I don’t want this post to be about the vaccine. You can love Jesus and decide not to get the Covid vaccine. That’s not the point of this. The point is, people began to widely accept unvalidated, false info. The point is, Christians started believing we were in a battle of flesh and blood, that the pharmaceutical companies (flesh, real men and women), that the Democrats (flesh, real men and women), that the president (flesh, a real man) was out to destroy them. Instead of putting faith in God, or trusting Him to fight our battles of a spiritual nature, we took to horses and chariots to fight the flesh of those who oppose us.

I have heard preachers state the Democrats are trying to attack the church and take away our freedom to worship. There’s no thought of the Lord fighting for us, but only how we must arm ourselves with rifles to keep them sinners out!

We don’t see people as children of God. We see them as the enemy.

Our fruits are not patience, peace, gentleness, kindness, and especially not self-control. The fruits of many Christians have become rage, judgment, selfishness, and the exact opposite of love.

Christians have been proclaiming “faith over fear” and wrongly assuming that getting a vaccine or wearing a mask is fear. Those things aren’t fear. They’re wise, selfless, scientifically proven ways to decrease virus transmission. The real fear is the fear of losing our man-made religion! The Bible states nothing can separate us from His love, yet we’re afraid of the democrats closing our church building! Doesn’t add up, guys. The real problem today is fear among Christians. The Bible states there is no fear in love, yet proclaimed Christians are afraid of governmental control, vaccine and mask mandates, and liberal lawmakers. That makes it seem like maybe love isn’t there, since fear is so prominent. I mean, the fruit isn’t speaking like we’re His disciples. Just saying.

When the Holy Spirit began speaking to my heart how to bear His fruit and be a disciple of His love, I tried sharing this with my Christian followers. The problem was, while my words were based on scriptural truth and the words of Jesus Christ, they didn’t coincide with the popular thoughts of the Christian Church (of this world) and religion. So, while my blog posts gave a WWJD, kingdom view, they upset the religious realm of this world. Therefore, my thoughts were met with anger. In fact, met with rage! I was vehemently persecuted like I was Satan himself. I was called a “baby murderer” when I questioned if the former president’s behavior was something a lover of Jesus could support. I was attacked in flesh and blood as if who held a political office was a kingdom matter that meant the tie-breaker for who won the spiritual battle at the end of times. Do we see the problem here?

I stopped writing because the deception that tells man that his religious practices and political affiliation will save him, was too deep for me to speak against. I stopped writing because the false narrative was so much more tasty for people to ingest than God’s truth according to scripture. I stopped writing because I became disillusioned with how people I had loved, trusted, and respected in the Christian community could treat other humans with so much hatred and disdain. It broke my heart to the point of paralyzing me to speak on it.

Will I write again after this post? I hope so. I write for God, and God is love, and sharing His love is my calling. I want to share His love here. I hope I can share it by modeling it. I hope I can model it by loving my enemy, by bearing good fruit, and by encouraging others to do the same. We can be disciples, but we will only ever be an exclusive club rather than His church and bride if we can’t draw people to His heart by love. Our politics won’t win souls to Jesus. Our anger, rage, and judgmental behavior of those who believe differently than us certainly will not. So, maybe I’ll start trying again to model that love. That love that knows no fear, that love that is patient and kind. That does not envy, boast, and is not proud. Love that does not dishonor others, and is not self-seeking, not easily angered, and keeps no record of wrongs. Love that does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. Love that always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres (1Corinthians 13). I will persevere.

I Cannot Get Lost When I’ve Already Been Found

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I was driving home from work last night when a thought occurred to me. I suppose that happens when you’re driving down a palm-tree-lined street, still getting used to new road signs, and realize, ‘yep, I really live here.’ Such is the life, I guess, of those led by the Spirit. You wonder, “how did I get here,” and you marvel at how far you’ve come. How did life shift so grandly, and how did it change so much? It feels good. Peace like a river.

When I told my husband last summer, “I feel like God told me we should move to Fort Myers,” his response may have been surprising to some.

Without hesitation he replied, “ok. Sounds good.”

And that was that. I started looking for another job, despite the fact that I loved the one I had. I started looking for a new place to live. I started looking at health insurance options, since I’d be losing ours with a job change, and I withdrew from college. I wouldn’t have the time to pursue an advanced degree like I planned. But mostly, I just prayed.

“Lord, lead us. Make the way.”

Looking back, I don’t think I can simplify my spouse’s response as just trusting me. I mean, I know he trusts my ability to hear from the Holy Spirit, but placing his calm, collected demeanor to it all in one tiny box would truly negate the point of how we live life like we do. In the same line of thinking, I cannot place my own decision to move forward so surely on the confidence in my ability to “hear God’s voice.” Indeed, stepping out in faith has little to do with self, and so much more to do with Jesus.

You see, while my husband trusted my discernment, more so he trusted our Savior. And while I believed in my spiritual ears to hear from the Lord, I would be a crumbling mess if that was all I had to rest on. My ability would have been sinking sand, and my spouse’s faith in me would have been a mudslide. But Jesus? Well, that we could count on solidly.

When I told my husband I felt led to uproot our happy existence in the city and community we had come to love, his response was based on trust in Christ, not me. When I realized I was going to step out with what God whispered to my heart as I sat alone with Him on a balcony at the beach, it felt kinda crazy. I mean, was I really about to suggest we change everything based on a still, quiet voice, that might not even be God?! Yet, I felt peace. Something that should have seemed crazy and unconventional to me, felt like the best decision there was. So, I took that first step. I knew I didn’t take it alone.

The point is, it wasn’t me that my husband so much trusted, but rather God’s plan for us. Being the chill, relaxed dude he is, he knew that if this wasn’t God’s will, then it wouldn’t work out. A new job wouldn’t come, or living arrangements would fall through. Financial constraints would arise, or roadblocks would occur. Where God leads, He makes a way. So, as we began to make small steps of faith, the Lord opened big doors. Jobs fell in my lap, and blessings poured out into our hands. No roadblocks, just paved roadways.

I’ve discovered over the past few years that following the Lord isn’t as hard as I assumed. It’s all about being still, listening, and then walking. It’s about waiting, and then stepping through the door that opens. It’s not about what I think I should do for God, but rather what He designs to happen. I don’t have to try so hard to live for Him; I just have to live my life in Him. Abiding in His presence. It’s about understanding that despite my best intentions, I’m likely going to mess things up. But more importantly, despite my missteps, the Lord will straighten my path. I’ve discovered that in this life I don’t have to always know where it’s going, as long as I understand who leads me. I cannot get lost when I’ve already been found.

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?