Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

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 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.

You Know Me

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You know me.

You’ve always known me.

Even when I didn’t know you.

You knew me when my biological father left me.

And you knew me when you gave me another earthly father to raise me in love. To show me you.

You knew me when I tried to hang myself at eight years old.

You said, “you can’t come home yet, child. I have more for you.”

I just couldn’t hear your whisper. But it spoke loud and clear when the rope snapped and I hit the ground still breathing.

You knew me when I cried, lonely, afraid, and feeling worthless. You set forth a series of events to arrange our meeting.

You knew me when I ran from you. Others may have given up on me, but you never did.

You knew me when I did right, and you knew me when I did wrong. Your love never changed.

You knew me when I tried to fill my heart with all the wrong things. You knew I would see the truth one day.

You knew I would run back to you.

You knew I would love you above all else.

You knew when I needed to go left, and you knew when I needed to go right. You never stop leading and guiding me down the right path.

Great is your faithfulness.

You’ve provided places to live before I even knew I was moving.

You supplied my needs when it seemed there was no way.

You have healed me. You have healed my family.

You have protected us from harm. Looking back I stand in awe at the ways you have saved us, keeping us in your mighty arms.

What the world has meant to hurt me, you have used to help me. When the world has caused me pain, you have comforted me. Your mercies are new every morning.

You give me joy in place of mourning, and you keep me in perfect peace as I trust in you.

When I cannot see a way… You make the way.

You knew me before I came to be.

You knew me before I acknowledged your name. You know me still.

When man disappoints, you deliver. You remind me of my own imperfections. You lead me to humble surrender.

You spoke the sun, moon, and stars into being, and yet, still you know my name. You know my innermost thoughts.

And you delight in me!

When I disappoint myself, and when I feel my lowest, you delight in me.

You have adopted me into your family. I always have a place at your table.

People may misunderstand me, but you know my heart. You always know.

I weep. I cry burning tears. How can you love me like you do?! All the words of gratitude I can muster will never be enough.

You knew me.

You called me.

You waited for me. You never gave up.

You saved me. You save me still.

You speak to me. In the deepest places you speak your truth. Whom have I but you?

The One who knows me.

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.

I’m Not Jesus Either, but Shouldn’t We Try

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“Can I pinch her back?!”

My daughter implored this question to my husband and me after her younger sister had pinched her first. She knew the answer, but I suppose was hoping for something different.

My husband took the lead on this one, replying, “No! Would Jesus pinch her back?!”

“No,” my daughter muttered, whispering much softer, “but I’m not Jesus.”

At the time I inwardly laughed a little. I mean, I totally get it. I’m not Jesus either. The thing is, though, I should really try to emulate Him as much as possible, no matter the difficulty. Shouldn’t we all?

I’ve seen a lot of hate spewed on social media the past year. It has diminished some lately as the stress of a pandemic lightens, but it’s still present. Just recently I’ve seen things that continue to make me wince. My reaction is mostly based on the fact that people say the most awful things in the name of Christ. Christian friends and acquaintances will speak vile, hate-filled words, and it breaks my heart every time. When you speak anything as a follower of Christ, you are speaking in His name. We are His voice here on earth, most of the time. I don’t expect Christians to be perfect, no more than my husband expected our ten year old to be, but we do strive to show all our children that as followers of Christ, our goal is to be like Him. As much as is humanly possible.

It seems some folks’ parents didn’t teach them that part. I’ll throw you some examples.

A transgender person is given a government position of authority under a new presidency. Then come posts from Conservative, Republican Christians speaking out in anger. Listen, I totally get righteous indignation, but we still must walk in the love of Christ. It’s possible to stand for truth, while simultaneously standing in love. If I see words from Christian people saying this transgender, child of God is “disgusting” with emojis of puking, it makes me wonder. Every person you meet, no matter their decisions, choices, or sins, are a child of God. We somehow forget this fact. We forget that they were created by God, that they are loved by God, and that they are beautiful and precious in His sight. Not disgusting, not sickening, not worthy of our high and mighty disdain.

Here’s another example. The hot topic of immigration. A lot of the angry words I see about immigrants at the border are filled with judgment, contempt, scorn, and the exact opposite of love. They are selfish words. “This is my country! This is America! Go home! Get a job!”

I recall the words of Jesus instructing his followers to give their coat when someone asks for their shirt. To give to the poor, the hurting. I can’t for the life of me find the part where He says ‘hold onto yours, put a big fence around it to keep anyone else from wanting to share the blessings I’ve given you. Treat others like you’re better, more educated, and more worthy of God-given resources than they are.’ And He certainly didn’t instruct us to speak of other humans like they are less human.

Sometimes we are harder on my ten year old than we are our five year old. Why? Because she’s older. We expect more out of her. Likewise, as a Christian, I expect more out of my fellow Christians. I’m not saying it’s right when anyone says hateful, demeaning comments, but it’s somehow worse when it comes out of the mouth of a Christian. My ten year old knows better on many things because we’ve instructed her on what is right. Similarly, as a Christian, you have been instructed by God on how to react when situations are unfair or when someone mistreats you. He has told us the biggest commandment is to love others as ourselves. He has instructed us not to throw stones or mention the splinter in someone’s eye before removing the plank from our own. He’s told us to love our enemies. I’m all for justice, speaking truth, and standing up for what is right, but if we’re doing these things not in love, we’re just a clanging cymbal. A bunch of noise.

Look at it this way. A goal of Christianity is to help other people discover Salvation through Jesus. It’s not to keep tight border control of our country or to turn gay people straight! Our goal is to show the light and love of Christ, so others will see what we have, and they’ll want it too. We are really, really messing this up, guys! No, I don’t expect anyone to be Jesus, but I do implore us all to try and behave like Him. To love like Him.

Here’s an exercise for you. Take a look at your political posts on social media. Imagine someone who is lost, who desires love and acceptance. They don’t know it is Jesus their heart needs. They just know they need something. Maybe they’ve been looking in all the wrong places. The question is, when they see you, will they find what they’re looking for? I don’t think they will see unconditional love in your comment on a friend’s post where you use words like “disgusting” and phrases like “makes me sick” or “I hope they know hell’s hot.”

You know, it wasn’t right of my five year old to pinch her big sister, but I (as the parent) took care of it. My ten year old didn’t need to pinch her back. She needed to show her younger sister an example of how to behave even when you’re angry. To show her that even if it seems justified to hit back, you can turn the other cheek and let Dad handle it. I think we as a church have forgotten that Dad can handle it.

So, no, you’re not Jesus. I’m not Jesus either. But shouldn’t we try to allow others to see Him through us? Right now, I don’t think they can for all the hate in the way.

How to Have a Happy Marriage

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I receive emails and messages frequently from strangers around the world seeking advice for how to improve their marriage relationship. I can’t say I hold some kind of secret sauce to happily ever after, but I do personally enjoy a very healthy and fruitful relationship with my spouse. If asked our secret, I could mention a handful of things we do or don’t do. If I had to come up with just one word to take to the heart of marriage, it would probably be selflessness, but even that isn’t the key. As I thought about what made our union so blissful, the many key components aside, I realized there was one factor that I believed was responsible.

Even when I speak of selfless behavior, this isn’t something we came up with on our own, or even reached by trial and error. Though, building a life with someone is certainly that. It’s moments built upon days, set up into weeks, with the years racing by, where you do acquire a certain familiarity and ease of being together.

My husband said earlier at our dinner date, “I’ll bet this pandemic showed a lot of people what their marriages were made of.”

Or not made of, sadly. I mean, moments stacked up into weeks, and then passing years can be a dreadful experience if you don’t particularly like the other person. I can honestly say I love my spouse more and more, each and every day. Just when I think I couldn’t love him more… I do. So what gives?

I treat my husband the way I would want to be treated, and he is the same. He is gentle with my feelings, considerate and kind. When anger tries to gather in either of our minds, we have the wherewithal to pause, consider the other’s feelings, and not just react, but react in love. We didn’t get this from a marriage conference or life coach.

I serve my husband in love, and he serves me in return. He doesn’t serve me out of obligation, and I don’t serve him based on some religious idea. We don’t follow a traditional family unit because that’s what’s worked for others. I consider him greater than myself, and he considers me greater than himself. We place the need of one another above our personal needs or desires, and yet mutually we both get what we need in the relationship. Selfless love. Dear Abby didn’t suggest the idea.

I don’t compare. I don’t compare my man to other men, and he doesn’t compare me to other women. We don’t covet the relationships of others. We feed our own. But I also don’t compare myself to him. I don’t place our roles on a scale of justice, weighing one contribution against another. Neither does he. I don’t concern myself with what he’s not doing. I’m too busy being grateful for the things he does do. I don’t keep a tally of who does more in the relationship. That would take my eyes off the gift of doing for him. It would blind me to all the tiny, selfless acts he offers each and every day. No human counselor offered this advice.

I am too busy looking in the mirror to find fault in his reflection. I focus on being a better me, and he does the same. I water my own grass, I don’t sweat the small stuff, and I never let the sun set on my anger. Heck, I just don’t get angry much. Nope, it’s not a miracle chill pill. It’s the Fruit of the Spirit.

All the things I’ve mentioned I don’t do, or the many wonderful things my husband does do, these are all fruits that have sprung up in our marriage because we abide in the vine. To put it plainly, we follow the example of Jesus, and that makes us better for one another. Heck, if it was up to just me, I’d be a horrible wife. My hormones are a mess, I tend to be an absolute control freak, and I cannot understand people who don’t like their ducks in a row. If it were up to me, I’d likely expect perfection in a man, but I learned early on that my happiness isn’t found in this world alone. My joy is complete in Heavenly places, and that takes a load off the chaos down here.

Early in our marriage we began a journey of getting to know Jesus better, and I now realize that is the absolute best thing we did not only for ourselves, but for each other. The teachings of Jesus found in the Bible are the best life hack you will ever find. The words in red teach me how to be a better partner, a selfless friend, a giving wife, a gentle lover, a peaceable person, and an understanding spouse. They teach me not only how to love, but how to love well. Every day is spent in the Word, and because of this dedication to living and loving like Jesus, my marriage blossoms under that care. Our relationship is like a well-watered vineyard, bursting forth with good fruit. It’s not us, really, but rather our ability to live out what scripture teaches.

Of importance and worth mentioning, you can’t just read a few verses out of Ephesians and call it a day. You can’t attend a marriage conference at your church and expect a life change overnight. It turns out that the entire story of God’s love from beginning to end, on each and every page, in each parable and Old Testament lesson, lays the foundation for learning to love like Him. It’s a day by day taking in of the truth, a daily listening to the Holy Spirit, and a continuous surrendering of self to His ways. To be a good spouse is to follow Jesus. To have a happy marriage is to build your life on His purposes, abiding in His love, and not trying to fill your heart with anything less than the true love of Christ. To love the Lord, like, really love the Lord, is the only way to love your spouse as you should, and to be loved by them like you deserve.

My husband is an amazing husband because he seeks Christ. His relationship with me simply overflows from that. Any good thing I do in my marriage is Spirit led. Like I mentioned before, I’d likely be a pretty naggy and slightly psychotic wife if not for the patience, kindness, good temperance, and love the Spirit fills my heart with on the daily as I surrender my life to Him.

I never want to be one of those preachy, self-righteous, overly religious, or pious people who claim to know the secret to a happy life. Heck, I’m still learning as I go, a work in progress, if you will. All I know is, I love my husband, I love my marriage, and I love my life. I wouldn’t change one thing about it. I am not just content, I am supremely blessed, living my own fairy tale it feels like. And when I look around for a reason for my bliss, or the cause of such happiness, I know without a doubt it’s our decision to grow close to Jesus that has drawn us so perfectly close to one another. No secret sauce, but certainly a great recipe for a happy married life.

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.

A Word for the Church

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About twenty-four years ago I went on a trip that changed my life. More than a simple trip, it was a mission journey, where I lived overseas for six months learning how to be a better disciple for Christ. I attended a school for missionaries that knew before we could lead others to the love of Jesus, we needed to find healing for ourselves first. It was an amazing experience I will always cherish. I remember at the end of the school (graduation, if you will), a majority of my classmates were deciding which unreached people group God was leading them to minister to. For me, though, I wasn’t feeling that direction at all.

I remember at the time feeling in a human sense that I should be following my missionary friends to third-world countries to serve God, but the problem was that’s not what the Lord had for me. I understood in my spirit that I was being led to the missionary field back home in the United States. My calling wasn’t to tell tribes who had never heard of Christianity about my Savior. My calling was to lead people who had heard about religion all their life to the healing and love that was found in a real relationship with Jesus.

I have always carried that calling in my heart. Over the years I’ve failed tremendously at it, but deep inside that was always my purpose in life. I may be a wife, mother, and nurse, but above all else I am a child of the King. My purpose is to show my brothers and sisters each and every day the freedom I’ve found in Him.

The Great Commission.

Church, we have forgotten our calling.

If you believe in Jesus then you too are called by God to tell others of this love you’ve found! Man, we are messing this up miserably!!

Do you remember how Jesus told His disciples people would know they were His?

John 13:35
“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

How can we be a part of the Great Commission? How can we lead the lost to Jesus?

I would like to give you an exercise. On your Facebook settings you’ll find a section titled “Activity Log.” If you are a Christian I would encourage you to look at your activity log. Look at everything you’ve posted the past few months. Look at all the comments you’ve made on others’ posts. I want you to look at this activity and ask yourself a few questions. Let’s call it “running it through a missionary filter.”

1. Are my comments representative of Jesus to the lost?

I’m not asking if your comments are Biblical, per se. I would hope that we all read scripture and know the truth of the Word. I’m also not asking if your words helped you win a theological debate or argument with another believer who disagrees with you. I’m asking how your words represent Christ to those who don’t know Him. I imagine the words we’ve all spoken lately have the lost scratching their head, saying, “why would I want to be a part of this circus?”

2. Will my words draw those who are hurting to the healing that can only be found in Christ?

The truth is, all human hearts are yearning for something more. We strive for a better job, dream relationships, and more stuff because we are empty on our own. This goes for everyone! We are meant for Heaven, and we’ll never find completeness in this world. But we can find a perfect love that fills our yearning hearts. Once we find it our goal should be to tell everyone we meet. Do you know the best way to tell the gospel of Jesus?

He said by our love they would know us.

Our best witness to the world is how we live and love each day.

3. Do my words and actions make people want to find what I have found?

Is anyone happy with the world we’re in right now? The political environment is atrocious. The civil unrest is horrible. The past year has been draining! But God.

In the Lord I find rest. Do my words show that?

In the Lord I find peace, freedom from fear, and most importantly, they give me an eternal perspective that goes beyond the world in front of my eyes. I pray my words show that I don’t sweat the “small stuff.” And guess what? It’s all small compared to eternity.

I cannot take my political party to Heaven, but I can take my neighbors. I can take my coworkers. I can take my enemies! Yes, even them.

It seems we’ve become a church overly concerned with the matters of this world. If All Lives (truly) Matter, why are we ignoring the eternal life of those we disagree with, those who vote differently than we do, or those who support differing policies? For some reason we’ve convinced ourselves that we can help God win this war by pushing people away. He doesn’t need our help to win a war, but He does desire our help in winning souls to Him. We’ve gotten confused into thinking we can serve God best by pushing political policies, fighting for our personal rights (at the disregard for the rights of others), and creating a “Me versus Them” mentality. Who came up with this idea?

You’ll never help the lost find Jesus by using words or phrases like “the Dems, the evil Left,” etc. I mean, seriously, think about this. When have you ever “won” someone into your vein of thought by saying they are wrong, evil, or insert your favorite expletive.

Church, we have forgotten our first priority! It’s not about us. It’s about saving the lost. It’s not about what political party is right. It’s about showing the love of Jesus to those who need Him. Guess what? We all need Him. We all need that love of Jesus. We’re not only pushing the lost away. We’re also pushing believers away. The Church is in the wrong war, and the casualties of this war are heartbreaking. We’re not winning against evil. The devil is actually laughing at how easy it was to get the Religious Church to misrepresent Jesus to the world at large. My heart breaks.

I repeat it again. They will know you are His disciples by your love.

So, will they?

My concern is that in times like these we as Christians must measure our words. When we allow our political opinions to override our love of one another, we speak poorly. This goes for us all. I’m just praying we can be the salt and light that leads people to Christ, not to a political point of view. I’m seeing the church at large replace the Great Commission with the great need to be right. It simply breaks my heart for those seeking the love of Jesus in this lost world, but finding the current political environment instead.

How Christianity is Missing the Harvest

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In reading my Bible this morning a verse really stuck out to me. It’s like the words zoomed off the page, and I knew the Holy Spirit was speaking those words just for me at that moment.

I think of that old song by The Byrds, Turn, Turn, Turn, where they sing, “there is a time for every purpose, under heaven.” Taken from the 3rd Book of Ecclesiastes, the words basically explain that every event in our lives is for a purpose. Even the hard ones. If ever there was a season that I would question its purpose, it would probably be this one. There have been hundreds of memes joking about the horrible year that was 2020, and we laugh. But I think most of us laughed to keep from crying.

Whether you want to quote The Byrds or the original author, likely Solomon, the verse/lyrics tell us, there’s a time to weep (which I did a lot the last year), a time to laugh (which thankfully I continued to do). It also says there’s a time to plant (which I try to do daily), but also a time to reap (which brings me back to the beginning of this whole thing).

John 4:34-35
“My food,” said Jesus, “is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work. 35 Don’t you have a saying, ‘It’s still four months until harvest’? I tell you, open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest.

Ripe for the harvest. Y’all, I believe our country is ripe for a harvest.

The conversation in John 4 takes place between Jesus and His disciples right after He’s spoken to the Samaritan woman at the well. This is significant in the fact that Jesus just told this woman a time was coming when she wouldn’t have to go to the mountain or Jerusalem (to the temple) to worship. Jesus tells her that His Father is seeking worshippers who will worship Him in Spirit and Truth. He lets her know that time is coming, and it’s coming through Him. As a Samaritan and a woman she’s been “unworthy” according to the religious leaders, but the Messiah arrives to rock the foundations of the Law and to tear the temple curtain in half. Meaning, people like the sinner at the well are welcome to seek forgiveness and eternal life as much as anyone else.

Over the years (since the arrival of Christ), the enemy has come to distort the message of Salvation, and he’s often come under the guise of religious law. If you’re looking for the devil, you won’t find him in a bar or strip club. You’ll find him in the church, whispering his lies softly to those who will listen. You can look back in history at the destruction of mankind in the name of the Lord, and each time after Satan has used man to destroy the message of love and forgiveness, the Holy Spirit has raised up purveyors of truth to heal the rift zealotry has left in its wake.

I believe we are in a period of time where Jesus is calling purveyors of His truth to rise.

Open your eyes and look at the fields! They are ripe for harvest!

I don’t want to save people! Only Jesus does that. But I do want to show people the healing that can be found only in His love. I want to offer freedom to the captives and daily success through this troubled world.

Boy, is this world troubled. The pain, loss, and hatred of 2020 has planted open, hungry hearts in the center of mankind. The ground has been made soft by this past year. I don’t believe God gave us COVID to judge mankind, but I do believe He can use it to draw His children into His loving arms.

So, how does one reap in a season of harvest?

I’ll tell you how NOT to reap.

We will never reap by an Us versus Them mentality.

We will never reap by separating ourselves from those who need us the most.

We won’t reap by ignoring the reality of racial inequality and injustice, simply because it makes us uncomfortable to admit it still exists.

We cannot reap when we close ourselves off in a church building, with a sign of rules posted outside the door.

We cannot reap by placing politics at the forefront of our purposes.

We cannot reap when our hope is in who is elected to the oval office, rather than who is the King of Kings.

We cannot reap when we ignore the sins of pride, rage, hatred, or malice, while only focusing on the sins of homosexuality or abortion.

We cannot reap when we speak words of division and anger, rather than words of kindness and love.

We cannot reap when we publicly bicker with fellow believers on social media who have differing opinions.

Do you love Jesus? Do you believe He died for our sins so we might have eternal life?

If the answers are yes and yes, then we as the church of Christianity should stand united to reap.

Who did you vote for? Are you a Republican or a Democrat?

These are the questions that distract us from the ripe fields.

There’s a wind of deception blowing through our land. Why do you think that is?

The Father seeks those who will worship Him in Spirit and Truth.

Satan seeks to divide, deceive, and distract.

I believe we have come to a season of harvesting. I believe for many Christians it’s a time to turn, turn, turn.

To turn away from political entanglements. To turn away from a deceiving Religious Spirit that whispers anything other than the Saving Grace of Jesus!

We are in a season of harvesting, but many of the “workers” are trying too hard to separate the wheat from the chaff. This is not our job, gang. The Messiah decides what needs to be gathered into the barn and what gets thrown into the fire. I fear many think too highly of their position as wheat, and I certainly don’t want to be told by my Savior to depart, that He never knew me.

So, how do we successfully reap in this season?

We reap by reading our Bible more and our social media feeds less.

We reap by seeking the truth of the Holy Spirit, not by seeking truth in the media or on YouTube.

We reap by loving God with all our heart, and not giving the best of ourselves to our politics.

We reap by loving our neighbor as ourselves, not by saying “we gotta take care of our own first.”

We reap by laying down pride, by turn, turn, turning from self-righteous indignation.

We reap by admitting where we have been wrong.

We reap by modeling forgiveness. Y’all, I’ve been working on this one. My heart hurts from religious friends who told me I wasn’t a “true Christian” when I questioned if Donald Trump was the best representative for Christianity. I have had to lay down my offense over and over, understanding it’s not about me. It’s about doing His will. In the verses above in John, Jesus said his food was to do the will of His Father.

We need more of that! We’re getting a bellyache lately from filling up on worldly food, making ourselves sick on politics and conspiracy theories. We cannot reap if our diet is unhealthy! We must feed on His truth, His bread of life, and His living water. I am certain we will never find those foods stocked on the shelves of this world.

We reap by loving first. Loving God, and loving others. The “others” here includes those who think different than you, look different than you, vote different than you, and live different than you. If you’re interested in being in a “Saved Club” where you and your closest friends get to go to Heaven, then by all means, continue the work you’ve been doing. But if you desire to truly open your eyes and see the field, then I encourage you to step away from the worldly distraction. Step away from the law, and step into His grace. Step into the neighborhoods, lifestyles, and groups you sneer at, and join the Father in showing EVERYONE the way home.

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.