Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

I Never Wanted the Pony

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“I bet you can’t dive all the way to the bottom and touch the grate,” he dared me.

I was five years old. A toe-headed, deeply tanned, tiny thing, but boy, could I swim. I wasn’t daunted by the Olympic-sized swimming pool sparkling before me.

“But I got my clothes on,” I answered, waiting to see if he’d take back the challenge.

“If you do it, I’ll buy you a pony,” he replied with a smirk.

And that was all it took. Like a bullet from a gun, I shot quickly into the water, sans swimsuit or not, pointed finger first to touch the drain at the bottom of the pool. Spoiler alert. I reached my goal easily, and broke through the surface of the water, just as quickly, sucking in air hungrily. Almost as hungrily as I ached for his response.

Here’s the thing about five year old me. I really wanted a pony. I asked if I could get one, more than once, not understanding the obstacles that stood in the way of my cowgirl princess dreams, such as living in an apartment, or being dirt poor. I just wanted one, and my father had agreed I could get one. Several times. The poolside promise wasn’t a new thing.

Here’s the next thing. I knew I wasn’t getting a pony. I may had only recently learned to tie my shoelaces, but I understood a thing or two about human behavior. The promise of a pony was like wishing upon a star. It worked in Disney cartoons, but not for little girls who changed schools a billion times a year, chasing dad across the country while he sowed his oats. I didn’t even want the pony. Not at that moment.

I was proud of myself, though. I tried to reel it in, but I couldn’t help it. Sure, touching the bottom of the deep end was nothing new for me, but it was for him. And mom knew I could do it, but he didn’t know. He’d been gone when I learned. Where did he go anyway? With just a backpack and the contents of our bank account, for months at a time?

Yessiree, I was proud. I was cheesing, big time, and I waited for his response with anticipation. Wouldn’t he be so proud?!

All I can remember is the chuckle. A half laugh, half “well, I’ll be damned.” He laughed at the sport of a smiling girl, and then he turned and walked away, probably afraid I’d get his smoldering, filterless Camel wet. I guess I remember something else. I remember my heart breaking. It didn’t ache for a pretty pony to keep in the nonexistent backyard, though. It ached for affection. I wanted him to be proud of me.

I can look back on the muddled years of my past, and I can see that same longing. Love me! See me! Make me feel worthwhile! I floated through friendships, relationships, and most facets of my life like a little girl kicking like crazy to reach the bottom. If I could just touch the grate, he’d be proud. Maybe he’d even stay around for a while. If I could just be skinny enough, pretty enough, smart enough. If I wore the right clothes, the other girls would accept me. If I slept with him on the first date, he’d have to like me. If I agreed to be agreeable, then my husband wouldn’t leave me. So many parts of myself I gave up or gave away, just hoping to finally feel the satisfaction of being worth something to someone. Anything to anybody.

I never got that pony, and I never found what I was looking for in the arms of mankind. Don’t get me wrong; I found love. I currently reside in the most fulfilling and joyous marriage I could fathom, but I had to come to a place in life where I realized my self-worth and personal happiness couldn’t be found in the acceptance, opinion, or affections of this world. As the years went by and I scoured the pages of my Bible, I finally understood my purpose and fullness were found therein. A Savior who called me precious, that was what mattered most. A God who became man, to give His life for me, that was what I had been longing for. An unconditional love that said, ‘you can have all of me, and you don’t have to give me a thing,’ that was what had been missing. I didn’t have to perform, fit into a box, or do anything other than just believe that love was there for me. And when I finally realized His great grace was enough, that His strength was sufficient, and that His love never failed, I stopped kicking. I stopped striving to reach the bottom, to obtain the love of the world, or to fill my cup with empty promises. Because, I never needed the promise of a pony. I only needed perfect love.

I Finally Found Where I Fit In!

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I can recall receiving a specific message tailored just for me from a visiting prophet when I was twenty-one years old. His words were like a soothing balm, the proclamation I had always wanted in life, whether I realized it or not. He didn’t know me personally, yet the accuracy of his comments struck a chord with my misfit heart, and I have remembered them always.

He had spoken, “you feel like an outcast, like you’ve never fit in. But God wants you to know He has a place for you. You’ve always felt like a square peg, and God is saying He has a square hole in mind just for you.”

These encouraging words were just what I needed. I had always felt like an outsider in life. I was the girl in school who tried to hang out at the “cool kids’” lunch table, but had somehow never been able to take a seat there. I didn’t feel welcome.

As a child I was the new kid, from out West, with the weird accent. Totally tubular.

Or I was the sick kid. Epilepsy. Not a well-known condition in small-town U.S.A.

I was the adopted kid, never really fitting in with all the cousins. Treated differently by the grandparents even if they didn’t mean it to be that way.

I was the little girl who was so ordinary that her biological father had left town, never looking back at the daughter he rejected.

I was the quiet girl in school. Pretty, but odd. Puberty didn’t hit until I was seventeen, and I was the last cheerleader who still admitted to playing with Barbies or frogs.

In all the Howard Hughes’ films of the eighties, the outcasts and misfits at least had their own clique. Even The Nerds got their revenge.

But I didn’t fit in anywhere. I couldn’t find my group, and went through most of my young life trying way too hard to find my niche. A loner. Maybe even a loser.

I was born again at the age of 19. I can remember feeling such acceptance into God’s family, but it seemed short-lived. I’ll never say this was anyone’s fault but my own. I know my own perceptions are often to blame. It was probably the devil at work in my feelings, and perhaps in the actions of others as well. Regardless, I never felt like I fit into the Church. Most of my Christian peers had been raised in a deep faith, and I was still learning to read the Bible. I didn’t understand all the rules, of what was good, or what was definitely bad. I was on a learning curve when it came to taboos of the Christian walk, and those who corrected me were not usually gentle. Sadly, I have way too many instances of harsh correction by my “sisters” in faith, and I know I have healing still left from those encounters.

I had a past, but one thing I learned about people was, ones outside the church didn’t care about that stuff. They didn’t give a hoot about what I wore, if I watched an R rated movie, or if I had saved myself for marriage. It was much easier to get along with the people who skipped Sundays all together, and so began a season of being apart from God.

It makes me wonder, is backsliding the result of sinful influence outside the church, or is it perhaps the realization one haves that they’ll never be good enough to have a place at the table of religion?

Oh, but Grace. Great, great grace.

I have finally found my place. I have finally found where I fit. For awhile I thought the place that prophet spoke of over twenty years ago was a certain space. For years I wondered where God would move me, or what group of friends He would put in my path. Still corrupted by the ways of this world, and still scarred by past rejection, I still tried to make myself fit. I attempted to insert myself in this women’s group or that ministry opportunity. I allowed my belief system to be that of the majority to which I wanted to conform, knowing that to sit at the table, there are certain standards you must uphold, and certain opinions you must keep inside. The thing is, no matter how much I tried to mold myself into the Godly women I admired, the more unqualified I felt. I wasn’t the trendy mom, the crafty homeschooler, or the first hand up to volunteer for watching the nursery on Sunday. I didn’t like being busy, spinning plates, or overwhelming my schedule. Then I had this habit of seeing the best in others, trying to walk in the shoes of the “sinners,” and remembering far too easily the past I had previously mentioned. I wanted to give money to a guy on the street without worrying if he was going to spend it wisely! I wanted to believe that each time a drug addict ended up in my hospital bed, that they would stop using, and change their life. When others whispered about a short skirt on Sunday, I remembered a “church lady” making me leave a meeting because my t-shirt said the word “suck” on it.

My weird ideas have often left people confused. My fair treatment of those different than myself has made me unpopular in certain circles. In fact, the last year has found me ousted from the table of many of my Christian friends, simply for speaking topics not allowed for discussion. I guess we could call them “square peg” topics in the circular world of religion.

I felt so hurt. I felt the rejection all over again. Kindness was met with anger, and I trudged away licking my wounds. I guess sometimes you think you’ve found the place where God has you to fit in, only to discover you’ll never fit! We aren’t meant to fit in the pretty, round spaces this world provides. It turns out the edges have hidden rough spots, and you can get a face full of splinters, even as others have planks in their eyes.

When I read the Bible, though, I felt like I fit. When I read, re-read, meditated, and prayed over the words of Jesus, I felt totally at home. In His warm embrace I found my place, and in His love I found me.

I’m not in any way trying to lessen the importance of gathering with fellow believers. I truly belief that finding a church home, surrounded with brothers and sisters in Christ is much needed. Relationships are beneficial! The support, counsel, and correction of other believers is required in this confusing walk of life. So, don’t get me wrong, here. I’m not saying to throw out the baby with the bath water. But I am saying that some dirt and grime can get in the way sometimes.

Some people in this world find their place like the perfect glove. For others, they always feel like an outcast. I think it’s good to understand that if you don’t feel like you fit, you’re in good company. Jesus never fit in with the religious leaders of His day, either. People will misunderstand you, they will hurt you, or they’ll unknowingly (perhaps, knowingly) push you out. But at the table of the Father, there’s always a seat saved for you. Right next to Christ. It’s in His love we find our perfect place. It’s in His love that we finally fit in.

The First Step to a Good Relationship

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I’ve always been one of those gals who likes instructions. I figure most women do, and that’s why we’re a good partner for men. We have no problem following direction, which can be an asset to their ummm, lack of such. I joke, but seriously, relationships are a lot about teamwork. So, as a woman who loves a step-by-step guide, who’s married to a man who figures it out as he goes, we manage to meet in the middle of most things, creating a great balance for this complex thing called life. And since I’m the instruction manual kinda lady, I thought what better way to share some of the relationship knowledge I’ve gained through trial and error, than by giving you all an excellent first step. After all, it’s hard to make it to point C when you’ve neglected A, or even B.

I got the idea for this post this morning when I was reading the Bible. I came across a part when the Old Testament prophet Elijah said to the people, “How long will you waver between two opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him.”

I’m not trying to make being in a relationship akin to serving God (although, lessons are there), and I’m definitely not going to try and over-spiritualize the topic. But many times when I read the Bible it reminds me how it can impact each area of your life. This morning’s readings happened to remind me of a time that changed not only the course of my relationship with my now-husband, but also changed the course of my life. How could I not share that with you all?! It was my very own moment of discovering that if I believed in something, I needed to commit to it already.

It was the day before Valentine’s, approximately 12 years ago. First off, yes, I had waited until the last minute to buy my boyfriend a card. You see, things weren’t the greatest between us. I could blame it on so many things. I mean, I was freshly out of a marriage gone bad, with a husband who had left me. Rejection will make any girl feel afraid to open her heart to another man. I could blame it on my grief. My heart was still numb from the recent loss of my mother. I was living life in a fog, and I honestly don’t remember most days back in that timeframe. I probably drank too much, trying to numb my pain even further, and my fella certainly was no choir boy either. We both succumbed to our individual vices, two broken souls clinging to one another loosely, trying to figure out if we wanted the other person to help save us or not.

Point is, I could go on and on with all the many reasons why we weren’t in a fabulous place in our relationship, but for the purposes of this post, I’m just going to discuss the pivotal decision that started to change things for the better.

So, back to the Hallmark aisle. I love cards. Always have. It must be my love language or something. I’m a writer, after all. I love words. I love how you can take feelings and put them into words, and then gift those words. A card is an amazing way to say, “this! This is a piece of what I feel, and what you mean to me.”

So, there I was in my favorite place, and I had found the perfect Valentine’s Day card, despite waiting until the last minute to buy it. I read the words, knowing they were a perfect declaration of love, but it was some unwritten words that really shook me.

I can’t say I’ve ever heard the audible voice of God, and at the time I hardly heard the whisper of the Holy Spirit to my heart, but when it happened in the card aisle that day I had no doubt it was the voice of God speaking in my head.

“You need to mean it.”

Five words, out of the blue, that caused me to pause before placing the card in my basket, and that began a conviction in my heart. God knew I wasn’t 100 percent in this relationship. I was holding back, guarding my heart, and distrustful of moving forward. The act of purchasing the card for him was just lip service. I was saying “I love you,” but my actions were lacking. The card spun a lovely lyric of commitment, but my heart wasn’t in it. Not really.

Looking back, I wonder if my face in the card aisle reflected the shaking I was under at that moment. It was like I stood at a crossroads. I could keep giving a mediocre effort, kinda gliding through the relationship, indifferent to the eventual outcome, or I could go all in. Yeah, it was a gamble to give away my heart, but I knew I’d never achieve real happiness in a relationship without betting on us. I had all the right words to describe love. Now I just needed to want it and believe it.

The thing is, this world is full of broken, hurting people. When we started our relationship, we were certainly both those things. We had more baggage than a bellhop, but the only way to start unloading it all is to admit it’s there, and then make the decision to do something about it.

A relationship requires give and take. It takes teamwork. It takes both parties willing to work. And the first step to happiness in a relationship is deciding to put in the work. Not halfway, but 100 percent.

Heck, I’ve known people who get married with it on the edge of their thoughts, “this probably isn’t gonna work. Just like all my other relationships didn’t work.”

Well, of course it’s not going to work. Why is the percentage of marriages lower today than thirty years ago? People don’t want to make that commitment. They want a test drive. Let’s just live together and see what happens. There’s no money back guarantee with relationships, and we can’t treat them like there is.

The first step to creating a happy relationship is deciding you can be happy. It’s understanding you deserve happiness. It’s making the commitment to believe in yourself, and to believe in the other person. It’s the decision to actually try and be a better partner. It’s the choice we all make to lay down pride and selflessly serve the person we’re saying we love. Also known as, not just saying the words, but showing them with everything we have.

If you find yourself currently gliding through a tumultuous dating game, ask yourself those words. “Do you mean it?” Are you willing to put in the work? Stand at the crossroads and decide to either go all in or stop pretending just because you kinda crave companionship. Any relationship takes all that both people have to offer. If you’re not ready to give all you got, it may be time to take a step back and see why that is. It’s not fair to the other person if you’re not willing to mean the words inside the card that you’re buying.

What the Church Needs to Pray for Most

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I have a lot of friends send me links to articles, videos, or Facebook posts gone viral. They typically span from one side of the spectrum to the other, much like my friends’ list, and I receive each one with an open heart and mind. Because, you see, I don’t know everything. Sure, I have opinions, but I’ll never claim to know all the answers. So, I will watch that video with an open mind and listening spirit. I may not finish them all, but I give each opinion, each commentary, and each bold-emblazoned rant equal opportunity to be a pass or go for my heart.

Pass or go. When I watch some of these videos I think they are put together very well. I read the eloquent words a particular author painstakingly pens and I think, “they did a great job getting their point across.” Many of the things I read or listen to are very convincing in their natural medium, but it’s there I try to separate the wheat from the chaff. In a world of so much misinformation, so perfectly packaged, we must have eyes to see and ears to hear. But not the way you would think.

Matthew 13: 14 In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: ‘You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving. 15 For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.’

It’s easy to see with eyes of this world because this world is where we are. I often have to remind myself that I may be “in” this world, but I’m not “of” it. I am seated with Christ in Heavenly places. So, while my body is here in the world, my spirit exists with Christ. I have to keep that mindset. I have to utilize my spiritual eyes and ears in a world so noisy. I have to accept the gift of wisdom.

Wisdom. This must be our prayer. After watching a particularly saddening video from a friend this morning, I sat in the shower praying for wisdom. This is what the Church (we believers) need most.

James 1:5
If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

Remember when I said earlier that I don’t know everything? Well, because of that, I frequently pray for wisdom. We exist in a time of public opinion, in a time of social media, in a time of free-flowing and varying information, but also in a time where the enemy still prowls and seeks to devour. God gives wisdom when we ask! We must have wisdom, but not wisdom simply from our local church, respected “Godly” friend, favorite news channel, or well-produced YouTube video. We must have wisdom from the Holy Spirit. We must have spirit and truth. We must have quiet time set aside to commune with Jesus in prayer, and more time reading and re-reading scripture. We need more time in the Bible and worship than we spend on Facebook, Twitter, and YouTube. That way, when craftily concocted notions come our way, the Spirit of Truth will give us eyes to see and ears to hear! Without the wisdom and discernment of the Holy Spirit, we are tossed to and fro.

Have you noticed the world lately?! There’s a lot of people being tossed to and fro.

A large issue with the human nature is the sin of pride. I have taken to laying down pride at the feet of Jesus every morning in the shower. If you haven’t noticed, the shower is my prayer closet. I get up early on work days just so I’ll not neglect that time. I lay down pride, something I struggle with, and that we all struggle with. Human hearts crave love. Most of those hearts don’t realize it’s the love of Jesus they need. So they fill their hearts with other things. But it doesn’t have to be drugs or booze, guys. That’s the devil talking to the church. Nope. Most times the religious folks fill their love bucket with pride. We believe if we are knowledgeable we are loved. If we are right, we feel good. To be wrong, that feels bad. We desire acceptance, and we need people to accept our point of view. To applaud us for it! If anything threatens our existence of being right, we become personally threatened. We get angry. We push away another point of view. We ridicule it, even. Pride. We have ears, but don’t hear. I mean, we already know everything God said. Why listen for more? We have eyes, but don’t see. We’ve already seen what God wants us to see. No need being open for more.

We have become a stagnant people. Hard-headed like our ancestors in the desert, and arrogantly certain of our opinions. We lack wisdom. We have plenty of disinformation, but we’re lacking in any way to tell it apart from what God may be trying to speak.

I would encourage you as a believer to seek God first. Seek Him over the media. Seek Him over what you’ve always been taught or told in your tiny circle. Seek His heart in the red letters of scripture, and pray for wisdom to apply that instruction to your very life. One of my favorite verses in the Bible is about the Fruits of the Spirit (Galatians 5). Read it. And then read it again. Sometimes I read this chapter before I go into work. Meditate on it. Ask the Lord to show you how to carry these fruits. And then ask yourself if the opinions you speak are in line with these fruits that tell us the Holy Spirit thrives in us. Ask yourself if what you read bears those fruits. Ask yourself if the information coming to you has the fruit of the spirit, or if it is simply disguised with the fruit of the flesh.

Christianity’s Only Hope for the Presidential Election

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If there was one thing we could all agree about this year, it would be the monumental amount of disagreement this year.

What’s the only thing that has seemed certain this year? The abundant amount of uncertainty this year.

Indeed, this year has rivaled most in my short, forty-three on earth, and a part of me has desired to hide away in a storm shelter, waiting for the harsh winds of this season to pass. Whether you have experienced fear for your life in the face of a novel virus, or fear that your government is feeding you untruths about a virus, the fact is you’ve experienced fear. It’s easy to forget that fear often manifests in an apparently righteous anger, or in a quest to reveal the truth. Whether we’re enormously offended or staunchly standing for truth, it’s that thread of uncertainty for the future that drives the conversation. This year has rocked everyone’s foundation of security, and it’s ok to admit that. No matter how our response has manifested.

This has been more than just a year of isolation, though. It’s also been a season of unveiling. We’ve seen injustice come to light, but we’ve also seen the worst of humanity bubble to the surface. It seems that fear for the ugliness within ourselves can manifest in denial that a problem even exists. I think that’s been the hardest part of this year for me. Watching the compassion evaporate, and the selfishness multiply. Of note, I don’t exclude myself from this particular response to 2020. I certainly have dropped my basket of spiritual fruit multiple times this year.

I think the biggest problem this year, though, has truly boiled down to how we see, and how we hear. Do you remember the words of Jesus?

Matthew 13:13 This is why I speak to them in parables: “Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand. 14 In them is fulfilled the prophecy of Isaiah: “ ‘You will be ever hearing but never understanding; you will be ever seeing but never perceiving. 15 For this people’s heart has become calloused; they hardly hear with their ears, and they have closed their eyes. Otherwise they might see with their eyes, hear with their ears, understand with their hearts and turn, and I would heal them.’

For a large part, as Christians we see and we hear, but only in part. Mostly what we see is of this world, and in actuality it should be the opposite. Most of what we see should be not of this world. We simply forget our heritage. We become so distracted by what’s in front of us, we forget what lies ahead. In this regard we place our hope mostly in the things we can see and touch, and not in things of above (and not below). The problem with this? We will always end up disappointed.

It’s like, if your hope for your marriage is in your spouse, they will fail you. Conversely, if you are counting on yourself to make it succeed, you’ll end up sorely disappointed. Our hope for our relationships should always be on the One who created them, the One who models how we should maneuver through them, and the One who gives the best examples for how to love.

But, our eyes will only focus on the problems in our partner. Our ears will listen to the world for a solution. And then we wonder what happened to the healing.

If ever (in my lifetime) a year has shown us what happens when our senses are too in-tune with the world, and not enough in sync with Jesus, it’s been this year. So, when our eyes are seeing only the problem (and not the solution in Him), our ears are hearing the lies of this world (rather than the truth in Him), and our hope is in the solutions we can visualize with human eyes, we will end up extremely jaded.

Here’s what happens. We experience trials of this world, and we place our hope in the solutions this world offers. We put all our eggs in a political basket, or we place all our efforts into advancing a system of this world. We consider things like vaccines the only way to save us. We consider achieving civil justice the answer to broken human hearts, and while ending corruption is also God’s heart, it will not be the answer for a corrupt man. Changing systems, policies, and political parties will not heal the heart of mankind. We know this! We simply forget to proceed through life like we do.

My point is, there’s not a problem with seeking justice, truth, and a non-corrupt system. It’s honorable to speak truth, but we forget to speak it in love, highlighting the true answer for all of the above. There’s nothing wrong with seeking change through our political party of choice, but if we count on our politicians to change the world, we will never win. Point blank, we have but one hope to turn this year around. We’ve simply misplaced that hope.

We see with eyes of this world, and we hear with ears the same. It shouldn’t be this way. Jesus said in the verses above that our hearts have become calloused, but if we could understand the world with our hearts and turn, that He would heal us. Do you know how we can do that? We must learn His heart. Read that last sentence again. His heart, not the world’s heart.

The heart of this world will have you misplace your hope. It will make you place your future and hope in the systems of this world, but they cannot save you. They will, in fact, fail you. So whether your candidate wins or loses, your future and hope cannot reside there. They must be in Jesus and His heart for mankind, as stated in scripture. We must hear with kingdom ears, and see with eyes focused on eternity. But more than that, we must speak with a love that proclaims the hope we have in Him. Our words don’t ridicule or mock when they’re kingdom-minded. They speak hope, love, peace, and the joy that comes from Heaven.

Sadly, a large majority of Christians will view this as a fluff piece. They’ll say, “yeah, that’s nice and all in theory, but in the real world it doesn’t work that easily.”

That breaks my heart. The truth is, the very simple yet profound nugget in this post can change your entire life. It really is that easy. We really can have victory regardless of an election. We truly can experience peace no matter what the media may say. We don’t even have to hunker down in a storm shelter to escape the problems whirling about us. We only need ears to hear, eyes to see, and love to guide us. No matter what happens in November, the future for a person saved by the blood of Christ is set. Regardless of how this year ends or what the next year holds, there is peace in eternal life with God. In the end, our Father wins, and a new earth and system will prevail. I can handle whatever 2020 throws with that in mind.

The thing is, when you know your future is set, you can pass through the desert unscathed. In the 23rd Psalm it proclaims “though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…”

Y’all! We’ve missed the shadow part!

There is no valley of death. Death is but a shadow.

2020, and all its problems, are but a shadow.

The outcome of the 2020 election, no matter what, is but a shadow.

And do you know the thing about shadows? They mean nothing in the face of what it real. They mean nothing without the light. The light of God’s truth reveals the existence of all things, and our hope should only be in Him. Shadows are shifting, but our Father is solid. And that is where our Hope should stand.

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.

What COVID-19 Has Done for the Church

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Do you see what COVID-19 has done for the church? No, it’s not that it’s given it that push to get on social media. And it’s not about whether to meet, the importance of staying connected (although that’s important), or even the gumption to broadcast services live. What I’m talking about actually has nothing to do with whether a building has its doors opened or closed, or whether the government is skating too close to infringing on constitutional rights. It has nothing to do with religious organizations and everything to do with your relationship. Because, I’ll tell you a secret. You are the church. Allow me to explain.

Recently a coworker asked me how I had gotten to such a strong level of faith in my life. The person was pleasantly surprised when I said it wasn’t a switch that was flipped in my life, or even an overnight ordeal, but rather years of seeking and growth. I relayed the story of how my growing closer to Jesus had began.

Somewhere around 2010 I came across a wonderful opportunity at work. It was a weekend position that allowed me to work only 24 hours a week, while still getting paid for 40 hours. Pretty sweet, right? I had a baby, and another on my wish list, so working part time for full time pay was a God-send! The only problem? I would agree to work every weekend. While Saturday wasn’t a problem for me, Sunday was a lot harder. For one, I loved my church. My father-in-law was our pastor, and I worried how they would feel about the position.

It turns out, my father-in-law didn’t mind. He knew something I was about to learn. He knew something COVID-19 is trying to teach us all. He understood that a personal relationship with Jesus wasn’t found on Sunday morning alone, and he felt pretty confident in the Lord’s ability to show me just that.

My biggest concern after I took that weekender job? I worried my relationship with the Lord would suffer missing Sunday mornings, so I determined that it would not! How did I do that? I made the choice to seek the Lord more closely each and every day. I couldn’t go to church on Sunday, and my small congregation didn’t meet any other time. So I went to church Monday morning on my couch. I went to church Tuesday morning while I sipped my coffee. I went to church Wednesday morning while I fed my baby. I think you’re getting the point.

Ten years ago my life began to turn around for the better because I made a decision. I decided that since I couldn’t go to church, I would bring church to me! I started to set aside time daily to read my Bible, seek the Lord, pray, and listen to His voice. And we as a country are being given this same chance now! We are being told to stay home, and we have the opportunity to use that time wisely. We’re not just in a time in our lives where we can’t go to church. We’re in a time of our lives where we can bring church home. We can bring it into our hearts!

Even after I switched jobs and could attend worship with others on Sunday mornings, it was too late! My life had already changed, thank the Lord. I had begun to manifest the fruits of the Spirit. It wasn’t just my schedule that had changed. My personality had changed. I found that a life where I saturated myself with scripture, was a life where I could be more joyful and triumphant. I learned how to deal with the world’s problems according to the Bible’s answers. In those pages I discovered how much my Savior loved me, and sadly and honestly, I had spent ten years in church on Sundays as a child/teenager, never learning that truth. Salvation, discipline, and true life change aren’t always found in a building. And a deep relationship that changes you from the inside out, rarely is. Life change is found in time with Him.

This pandemic has given us all the rare opportunity to seek Him more. It has forced upon us the need to be fed at home, and I’m not talking about sustenance you get from the grocery store. I’m talking about the kind of spiritual food that will leave you never hungry again. It’s the kind of bread that gives you life, abundant life at that, and it fills you so full that fear can’t fit there. It fills you so overflowing that the uncertain circumstances surrounding you don’t stand a chance. It’s the Manna that God sends down from Heaven, and when you taste and eat you understand that He always provides just enough.

Do you know what the church (meaning the physical building AND all of us as the bride of Christ) needs? We need to learn how to be mature. God doesn’t intend for us to stay babies, being fed our spiritual bottle on Sunday mornings, thinking that will keep us full all week! He calls us to eat meat. He wants us to be self-feeding, steak-chewing, garden-growing, fruit-baring farmers. Y’all, it’s like He wants us to be homesteading harvesters who water where we’re planted. Of course He wants believers gathering together and supporting one another! Don’t get me wrong; this isn’t a church-bashing post. No, what this is is a reminder that we are the church, and we are called to grow the church. The fact is, it’s hard to grow a crop when all you do is eat the fruit. If you’re wanting to harvest, like God calls us all to do, then you have to start planting seeds, and folks forget you begin by planting the seeds in you.

So, I would encourage you to take advantage of this time. See it for what it is. It’s an opportunity, much like the one I experienced ten years ago, to seek the Lord so you don’t lose Him. Y’all, He’s not hard to find. We’re just usually so distracted by all the noise that we miss Him, but perhaps now is a National Call to Quiet. Perhaps Christ is calling us all away from the noise and into His arms. We have been given the chance to bring church into our hearts, the place where God has wanted it built all along. Don’t miss the positive change we can bring from such a negative time in our history. Don’t miss out on the greatest opportunity of all. To build His Church in you.

The Pajama Lesson

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Security.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A Beginner’s Guide: How I Drew Closer to God

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I’ll start by saying I’m no expert on spiritual matters. In fact, I’m quick to call myself a work in progress. I haven’t arrived at some divine place in my walk with God, my face doesn’t shine like Moses, and I foul up on the daily. So anything I share isn’t from some pedestal place of my creating. I just want to chat about how I went from point A to point B in my life as a Christian. I know without a doubt there’s a point C, D, and beyond that I strive for, but looking back over just the past decade of my life I am blown away. I am a different Brie in 2017 than I was in 2007, and of most importance is the truth that I didn’t change on my own. It was for sure divine intervention, but it also didn’t occur overnight. It’s matured a little each day, over time, and I thought someone might like to hear how. 

When I look back over the past eight years or so I can pinpoint certain decisions I made in life that I believe helped me to grow closer to the Lord. When you’ve created a distance between yourself and God, or perhaps when there’s a chasm related to sin, it’s not a gap that can be closed all at once. Asking Jesus for forgiveness and turning from sin is a really good start, but it also involves a daily decision to keep walking in that. So I guess you could say my journey back to God initially began with the decision to stop doing the things that I felt separated me from His presence. You never stop sinning, and every day of my life the Lord reveals to me new ways I can improve, but it has to start somewhere. My start began with absolutely stopping the actions I knew weren’t pleasing to Him. 

Reflecting backwards over the past six years or so one of the biggest actions I feel like I made to draw closer to the Lord was spending time with Him. It started when I took a job where I had to work every Sunday. I was so worried my relationship with the Lord would suffer since I’d be missing church on Sunday that I made the extra effort to seek Him all during the week. Every day I made the time to read my Bible, read devotions, pray, listen, and worship. I’ve done this every single day for at least six years now. I don’t think you can spend quiet time with the Lord, read scripture every day, pray it over yourself, and not be impacted by that. 


I also changed the type of things I let into my mind. I changed the books I read. I changed the movies I watched. I even changed the music I listened to. I’ve always been a person who really enjoyed music, but around 5-6 years ago I decided to take a 30 day challenge a Christian radio station suggested. In that timeframe I only listened to Christian music. After that I felt so good that I kept it going indefinitely. I’ll stop here to say that I love and appreciate all forms of music, and I never judge or think less of anyone who listens to secular music. We all do what we think is best for ourselves and our family. For my family we do not listen to secular music. I’m typically lost on social media when people do parodies or spoofs of a popular song. Lol. 

I also opened up the line of communication. I didn’t just reserve praying for meals and bedtime. I didn’t just pray when I wanted healing or help. I did pray for my needs and those of others, but I also praised the Lord for my blessings throughout the day. When I woke up I told him good morning, and when I liked my shower I told Him so. I worshiped in the kitchen while cooking supper, and I took advantage of semi-quiet times on the road as an opportunity to listen. Over time as you open your heart, speak to God about everything, and see His hand in it all, you begin to just chat with Him on the daily. It’s not to say God isn’t mighty and deserving of our reverence, but it is to say that He’s not some unapproachable, angry guy in the sky. He’s a Father who cares about our needs, all our needs, and loves to hear us tell Him all about it. As you make a point to talk to God more about your daily life you find that you create this open communication line that is just there. It’s like you never hang up the phone. He’s always on call, and the fact is you can’t talk to someone all day and not be close!

Last week I looked up at the sky and I said, “oh God, those clouds are beautiful!” Then it struck me that they had been beautiful the day before too. But also the day before that. And the day before that. And what about that sunset I last saw?! I wondered, did the sky just start becoming so lovely recently, or did I just start noticing it more? I felt like I just so happened to come to a place where I enjoyed it more. I was able to open my eyes and see the gifts from God in everything. I was able to see it in the beauty of nature, the health of my family, but also even in the circumstances of life that didn’t always work out as I had hoped. I was able to understand that God held control of all things, so even when things didn’t seem to work out, really they did. Because of Him. I think we’re all born to be optimists, seeing the glass half full. It’s the world that taints us. Being filled with hope, persisting in faith, and trusting in all circumstances has given me a positive outlook I never had before. It doesn’t mean my life is always perfect. It just means I know God is. 

I think it’s important to add this. Nothing we do in and of itself creates this relationship with Jesus. It’s not our actions that create our salvation. It just is. It’s a relationship of redemption and grace that awaits our acceptance, and other than agreeing that yes, you want it, there’s no other magical formula you must follow to achieve the fullness that walking with God supplies. I’m not trying to get into a theological debate on the steps to Salvation. That’s not what this blog is about. I’m going to assume that those seeking to draw closer to Jesus have received the gift of eternal life. My point is that I’m not trying to say our actions make this relationship. They don’t; His grace does. This is just me sharing how my relationship has deepened over time. I made purposeful decisions to seek His face and I think that helps. I’m grateful for the relationship I enjoy with Jesus, but if a recent trial with anxiety and depression has taught me anything it has taught me that I am powerless. I don’t have control of my life, nor do I hold the key to peace. I am humbled to realize that although I’m far from where I was a decade ago that I still have not arrived to the fullness of what He has for me. I’m reminded of this fabulous verse. 

Philippians 3

 12 Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. 13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.

I’m not there yet, but I press on. I’m just grateful I decided to participate in the race. Because when you’re running with God it doesn’t seem like a rat race or rush of a chaotic life that is spinning out of control. You still get weary, but there’s always a place to find rest. 

This is My Favorite Part

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Some mornings I wake-up, and aside from the typical grogginess or unmotivated attitude to move vigorously through my day, I find myself more than just a little complacent. I find myself almost weighted down by a feeling of melancholy. Some mornings my body arises, but my spirit feels defeated. Lingering along the periphery of my mood is a sadness, a nagging inkling that something is amiss, or that something is wrong. 

Call it depression, call it hormones, or call it whatever you wish. I just know it leaves me wishing I were back in bed with my eyes clamped shut, covers tucked under my chin, and my thoughts turned off for a bit longer. 

As it stood, I knew my thoughts were dwelling too heavily on situations beyond my control, and I found my worries over my circumstances adding to my bitter, morning mood. I pushed forward, as I suppose most of us do, but underlying my actions to get ready ran the steady river of a bad demeanor, and it seemed persistent to stick there. 

But suddenly I heard a small tapping at the bathroom door. I opened it ever so slowly, and there stood my sleepy-eyed five year old. 

“Can you come cuddle with me?” She asked. 

And she waited patiently until I complied. 

I crawled with her into my bed, and her small frame tried its best to fill the divet in the mattress my own body had left behind. I scooted up against her, she laid her head in the crook of my arm, and I brushed the fine, wayward hairs off her forehead. 

“This is my favorite part.” She whispered. “Laying here with you. It’s my favorite part of the morning.”

I rubbed my hand back and forth gently down her slender arm, and I realized it was mine too. 

Whatever situations ailed me, whatever persistent problems tugged at my heart, in the end there was this. There was now. 

And this was my favorite part. 

A long work day might loom before me, but for now a loving child lay beside me. And that was my favorite part. 

  
No matter how hectic and stressful my shift may be, I knew I’d come home to an adoring husband, darling children, and a home warm with love. And that was my favorite part. 

If the situations I faced didn’t work out like I wished I would still have so much to be thankful for. I could focus on what didn’t pan out, or I could focus on all the things that did. 

Whatever my struggles, or problems that came my way in life, when held in comparison to my many blessings they fell flat. And that was my favorite part. 

This world was full of strife, but God’s goodness always won over. 

And that was my favorite part.