Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

Interceding for Our World: Part II

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If you missed part one, I’ll include the link here. I have continued to pray in the Spirit, by God’s leading, for things I don’t even know until I pray. It’s come to my attention that some brothers and sisters are praying along with me, so I wanted to catch you up on my prayer time. I guess you could call this a prayer log.

4/2/20 Prayers in the Spirit

I saw a massive crowd of people. They were on their knees bowing in surrender and worshipping the Lord. They were of one voice, one Spirit, one heart, joined in one purpose, to exalt the King. They worship in sync and in joy. Their hearts joined powerfully in the Spiritual Realm giving power to the One. I saw His Spirit come down on His people, like the day of Pentecost. Nations of believers joined for one purpose, in Spirit and truth, loving the King.

4/3/20

This morning was a little painful and emotional as I felt like I was interceding for the fallen world as a whole, again. As if I stood in the gap pleading for mercy. A world that deserves fire and damnation, yet children who cry out to the Father for His love. Isn’t that what we’re all missing? I had heard a song this morning with the lyrics singing, “a second chance is Heaven’s heart,” and that was my heart this morning. It’s also the heart of the Father.

John 3:17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. I cling to the truth of His word, and I sing the banner of His loving mercy over our land.

4/4/20

While praying this morning I felt like it was in a Spirit of worship. I was worshipping an unchanging God. One whose word stands forever. A Father who is the same today, yesterday, and forever. His love is constant. We are the ones who waver. As I prayed I saw a grassy plain, and rippling over it a banner (perhaps similar to images you’ve seen of a waving American flag), but instead of Stars and Stripes, it was a rainbow banner. The color of God’s covenant. Although originally a covenant to not destroy by flood, I felt the covenant still stood. That our God would not destroy us from the earth. His banner, His unchanging covenant, covers us today.

4/6/20

I see reports of grim circumstances coming our way as a country, death numbers exceeding what has come thus far, tragedy to compare to the worst disasters we, or our grandparents have ever seen. I’m not surprised now for the prayers I prayed today.

Today in prayer I proclaimed our God as the solid rock. Unwavering, unmovable, a strong foundation upon which we could stand as we tried to climb out of the pit of despair. I pictured a man climbing a mountain. The mountain was God, and as long as the climber found firm footing on that solid rock beneath him, he did not fall.

I saw a vineyard, and the Lord said, “become grafted into me. Become part of my vine, and I will nourish you. My strong roots will feed you, giving you everything you need to bear fruit.”

Later I took a bicycle ride, and I prayed some more. I could feel Him in the breeze in my hair. I could feel His love in the sun that warmed my arms. He was everywhere. He is everywhere. He is the only thing that is sure right now.

I don’t know about projections. I mean, I have my opinions, and I have felt for some time that this will not be like man predicts. The breath of God in Hebrew is Ruach, and my husband and I believe His Ruach will blow across the land taking the virus with it. We could be wrong, but I don’t have to know. I don’t have to make predictions or projections because I serve the King of the Universe, and He is the rock on which I stand. If I were to die today, I would still live. What can trump that?

I guess I’m trying to say, don’t focus on the noise of the world. Focus instead on the rock.

4/7/20

Today I felt as if my prayers were a sonnet, a romantic song serenading the lover of my soul.

I saw a couple dancing, spinning, laughing, heads thrown back in abandon and joy.

“My love for you,” the Lord said, “it cannot be fathomed.”

It’s a love like no other, a love that cannot be compared. It’s a love free for the taking, yet a love that gives and gives. It’s a love that separation cannot even defeat. You see, sin tried to separate us from His love, but He wasn’t having it. He gave of Himself, His own son, His own life, a ransom, paid in full for His bride.

For me.

For you.

This is a love that isn’t swayed by disease, poverty, or uncertainty. If you can call out to this love, and ask Him to bring you an understanding of it, you will laugh in the face of a current world that’s gone mad. You can rest in the peace of His love, you can walk through each day bravely in the shelter of His love, and you can hope for the future in the illuminating light of His love. Nothing can separate us from it.

Romans 8:38-39 (NIV)

38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[a] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

As I prayed I said, “oh, Lord, let the earth, let them all know this kind of love!!”

And He answered, “that is what I’m doing.”

I hope you will join me in this frequent intercession, and together we can worship a very good Father who knows our every need. May we, the Saints, link spiritual arms, and hold spiritual hands to pray for our planet, to pray for the souls therein, and to pray for God’s will here on earth, as it is in heaven.

Who Do You Say I Am? A Guide to Victory in Pandemic.

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Easter is quickly approaching, and it seems we’ll still be under social distancing at that time. I know for many Christians they may have never spent an Easter Sunday not in church, and I was reminded this morning of an Easter Sunday I spent at the hospital bedside years ago. I recall being disappointed that I wasn’t in the house of God that holiday, and it was then that the Lord spoke something very strongly to my heart.

He said, my resurrection lives in you.

With all the happenings globally as of late, I am reminded of His Spirit at work in us. And with all the common reactions to this pandemic, I am reminded of some lyrics I heard in a song recently.

It said, God isn’t hard to find.

I suppose that seems way off base to many people, especially lately. After all, so many times God seems silent. When tragedy strikes, like now, He can especially seem distant. But when I heard those lyrics the other morning I was hit by the truth of it. You see, God isn’t hard to find. It’s just hard for us to do the locating. We’re too distracted by the world to realize that He is here with us all along.

It’s not hard to see the fear out there. It’s not hard to feel it yourself. I realized after a four day stretch at the hospital bedside that I was overwhelmed with the very realness of all this. I was inundated with COVID-19 statistics, the ever-changing instructions for how to deal with it all. Uncertain and evolving information from the CDC and those in power above me made my head spin. I discovered pretty quickly that I had to be intentional in my time with Jesus, because everything else vying for my focus was pretty intense. Not only were the worries of having enough food to eat there, or how the economy would suffer, but also the real threat of taking home a dangerous illness to my family.

This morning, and last night, I was drawn to the book of Matthew. I read it before bed, but also again this morning,

Matthew 16:15-16 (NIV)

15 “But what about you?” he asked. “Who do you say I am?”

16 Simon Peter answered, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.”

As Easter approaches I’m reminded of the days leading up to the Crucifixion. Jesus enters Jerusalem with much fanfare and praise, the crowds singing and proclaiming Him a king. Yet five days later the same words of “King of the Jews,” were used to find Him guilty and sentenced to death. Public opinion was a shifty one, indeed, and it’s in Matthew 16 we see Jesus gently leading Peter to the realization that it’s not what the crowd says that matters.

Who do you say I am?

This is becoming a question that Jesus asks us all. Who is the Lord to us during such a time as this? Is He an angry God, distant, pouring a plague on His people, only to forget them as they suffer? Or is He the Messiah, the Savior of the world?

In the midst of COVID-19 and the fallout of this pandemic, it’s hard not to be afraid. We see the news, the growing numbers of infected, and of course, the personal stories and accounts coming from those working in the thick of this illness. Some of us see dwindling bank balances and empty cupboards. Others see plummeting stocks, or death up close and personal. I’m reminded again of our dear disciple Peter. He knew, before it all went down, that Jesus was the Son of God. He spoke it out loud in faith, yet we all remember what happened before the cock crowed three times. He denied Jesus. It’s a disappointing turn of events in scripture, yet Jesus still fulfilled what He spoke in Matthew 16. He still built the church on the rock that was Peter. That’s good news for us!

When Jesus spoke about building the church, with a mere man who He knew would deny Him down the road, He spoke this.

The gates of Hell will not overcome it!

Today, we face the straining of Hell coming against us. A spirit of death and sickness come in a virus form, and a spirit of fear tries to make us deny (or forget) the power of our God, but Jesus promises that evil does not win. It can not overcome us!

Another verse comes to me as I write this post.

Psalm 121:1-2 (NIV)

I lift up my eyes to the hills– where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the maker of heaven and earth.

As believers, we can find God. It’s not hard, after all. He is here in us. He has not forgotten us, and actually has promised our victory. He doesn’t want us in fear, denying the power He gives us to overcome problems, but He does still provide us victory, knowing we will have our doubts. Today, I would remind you to ask of yourself the same question that Jesus asked Peter.

Who do you say I am?

Is He the rising infection rates or empty store shelves? Is He the dwindling economy or uncertain future? Is He the depressing news reports or scary Facebook posts? No! None of this is a surprise or uncertain to our God. He is the Messiah, the Savior of the world, the Great I Am, and He will! Be encouraged.

The Upper Room

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I’ve felt such a heaviness for the past few days, and I can’t for the life of me pinpoint why. I think that’s the worst part of it. To feel downtrodden even when from the outside in things look good. To be unable to name the reason for melancholy, it makes it all the more absurd. An unwelcome visitor to your happy home. I wonder if it will always be this way, while I exist in this body? Separated from joy that is so close I can taste it.

For a few days I’ve wanted to write something about the upper room. It’s been dancing on the periphery of my brain, waiting to be put down into words, yet unwilling to escape from the mental chamber keeping it captive. How could I speak of Heavenly things when my heart felt pushed into the dirty earth? Still feeling captive to my flesh, I knew I needed to write it anyway, if only to show myself I could.

I find it no coincidence that in Luke 22 Jesus plans the Passover meal venue, the upper room, and just prior to that, in Chapter 21, He says this.

Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you suddenly like a trap.

It’s so easy to forget that there’s more for us than next month’s work schedule or a pending dental appointment for the children. Before you know it you’re focusing on the bank balance versus the pending bill stack, or you’re questioning the commitments you’ve plotted in your calendar. You find yourself worrying about the virus the household keeps passing around, or replaying that thing you said to so-and-so, that ridiculous comment you wish you could stuff back into your stupid, gaping mouth. We busy our thoughts with if it’s time to wash the linen, or what theme we should plan for the youngest child’s birthday party. We never once contemplate the upper room.

He has prepared a place. He’s gone ahead of us and made arrangements. A banquet is coming, the likes of which we have never seen, yet we busy ourselves with plans akin to dining at Burger King. The Lord is setting the table for a grand feast, and we are somehow content to catch the scraps of the world where we wait. We forget all about the upper room.

It’s like we have an invitation sitting on our bar. It’s mixed in with grocery store flyers, an exorbitant utility bill, and one of those card stock advertisements with a fake, brand new car key attached. It’s addressed in gold letters, sealed with a blood red stamp, and it’s just waiting to be opened. Each and every day we pass it by. It’s left unopened, forgotten, pushed to the bottom of a stack meant for the trash.

We pass it by in favor of our favorite Netflix series, or rushing to the kitchen table to argue angrily over homework, pressing a dry kiss and sideways hello to our spouse. Tired, worn thin and wore out. We pass the invitation for rest, and we pass it in favor of rush and hurry. We run towards the things of this world that are here today and gone tomorrow.

Have you noticed the things of this world bring us a heap of stress, yet we pursue them with vigor? We think, if only I can hit the deadline. If only I can pay this debt. I just gotta get the kids through school and get this mortgage paid down. Then, maybe things will settle down.

We’re always in eager anticipation, expecting a future of better things. We’re hoping in a time when we won’t struggle so much. We’re waiting for a time when we won’t be so tired, when finances won’t be so tight, or when raising kids will get easier. We cling to dreams of a brighter future with less stress and more bless. We trudge through our season, weary and wondering when we’ll find our better day. We pass by the dusty, forgotten invitation.

There has to be a better way! That’s what we say. It shouldn’t be this hard! We buy self help books, seek advice from a counselor, maybe even beg that lady on Oprah Winfrey’s channel to fix our life! We forget all about the upper room.

Here’s the secret. Here’s the thing we all forget. We don’t have to wait until the feast begins to partake of the hors d’oeuvres. He is preparing the banquet table, but until it’s time to be seated, we can remember that we already have a place set with our names on it. The best five star restaurant in NYC doesn’t compare, and even better, the worst dinner party we throw doesn’t matter. It all falls flat when set beside the upper room.

The invitation that awaits, it’s one that requires our RSVP, and by accepting our individual place of honor, we agree to walk out each day with an air of importance. We can pass through each day throwing off the anxiety of a fading world that falsely vies for our attention, and instead we can say, “I’m sorry, but I’m going to a party. I can’t be bothered by that at the moment. My mind is on the upper room.”

In my time of heaviness the past few days, I am reminded to hold tightly to my invitation. It promises a wonderful feast. I don’t have to falsely hope for better days here on earth. Instead I can know in my heart that better days will come. I can walk each moment, even as my flesh and heart may fail, in joy, knowing that I am a special guest, and a special seat waits for me. Nothing much matters compared to that. He’s preparing a place.

Children get sick and the truck needs new tires, but He’s preparing a place. I feel heavy, sometimes for no reason at all, but I am invited. The world could hate me, but I’d still be invited. Karen could roll her eyes in my direction, and the whole table could talk about me after I walk away. It doesn’t matter. My Father has set a place for me at His table. Bye, Felicia.

But seriously. All the ridiculous things that try to pull me away. The unimportant tasks that try to overwhelm me. The minuscule happenings that attempt to shake me. The inconveniences that mar my day, or the mistakes that make up my past… they can’t hold a candle to what lies ahead. The upper room.

Lord, when my mind wanders to places it doesn’t need to go, remind me of the upper room. When I place my hope in anything other than you, remind me of the upper room. When I’m hurting, remind me of the upper room. When I’m happy and everything is peachy, remind me of the upper room. When I put too much stock in this fast food life, remind me of the banquet you have lavishly prepared. May I never forget the invitation that requires my focus even now. Keep my thoughts always on the upper room. I know that at your table I will never thirst, and most importantly, I will be filled.

Three Things God Has Done for Me

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I was recently reading a devotional, and in it the author encouraged the reader to make a list of three things God has done in your life. Initially, I laughed to myself. Only three! I mean, God has done more in my life than I could possibly fit on paper. Even a whole notebook. He woke me up in the morning, gave me hot water to shower with, and who could forget about coffee?! Talk about the best invention ever! And that’s just the first hour of my day. How in the world I could just pick three, I didn’t know, but I felt led to try. As I quieted my mind, these three bullets came to me, and I thought I would share them with you.

1. He healed me. Ok, so I could start with how God miraculously healed me of epilepsy. How after a decade-long battle of neurologist visits, medications three times a day, abnormal EEG’s, and debilitating migraines, He took the disease completely, totally, and immediately from me. I could talk about that, but no, it’s more than just a seizure disorder.

I could tell you how He took the pain from my knees, the pain that had been there since my twenties, the messed up knees that a doctor had told me when I was twelve years old would eventually “go out on me.” I could tell you how I carried that curse and constant pain into my forties, but the day I asked for His healing, they never hurt me again. But this is about more than not needing a knee replacement after all.

I could testify to physical healing, of myself, and of my children. But if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that God isn’t limited to just one kind of healing. He certainly had healed my physical body, but He had also healed the rest of me. If I looked on the outside like I used to feel on the inside, I would resemble an old China doll. The lines of harsh reality had riddled my fragile shell like cracks in aged porcelain. One wrong move and I probably would have shattered to pieces. But God.

My life before the love of Christ was broken. Torn by the pain of rejection, I felt lacking. Twisted by the lies that I was only as good as the people who had left me in life, I felt worth little more than nothing. I felt empty. We’re not made to feel that way, and as such I wasted many years trying to fill myself with anything I could. Anything that would give me some substance, make me feel worthwhile. I sought the approval of man, and I numbed my pain with empty indulgence. I tried to be better, basing my worth on what I could achieve in life. It never felt like enough. It wasn’t until I found the love of Jesus that I could be healed from all the hurt this world had piled upon me.

He healed me from the pain of sin, and He gave me eternal life. He healed me from my past, and He gave me a future. He healed me from rejection, and He adopted me as His own. He healed me from the bondage of slavery, and He gave me real freedom to live life fully and joyfully.

2. He gave me a new identity. I have had several last names in my life. I had the one I was born with, and later, my adoptive dad’s last name. I had my first husband’s last name, and now I have my second husband’s name. I have held many titles in life, some of them I’d rather forget, but others that I’m proud to go by to this day. I love holding the role of wife, mother, nurse, and friend. I’m a writer, a Navy veteran, an encourager, and a singer at times. I’ve been known to be a goofball, a crybaby, and even an outcast. I have been labeled things that make me cringe, and I’ve been called names that made me cry. But do you know what all these things have in common?

They are meaningless.

They are meaningless when held alongside my identity in Christ. Often times in life we can falsely build our worth and self esteem on the titles we possess or roles we play. We think we’re what our last name is, what job we perform, or how well we perform it. We assume we’re what we do, the mistakes we’ve made, or even the things we’ve failed to achieve. We fall to lies that we’re held back by who our family is, genetics, our financial circumstances, where we live, the way it’s always been, or our lot in life. We never reach the potential God has for us because we believe in a false identity. The identity of this world.

When I came to know the Lord, I realized my true identity was in Him. I was His child. I was created in His image, with a destiny in mind. I was forethought, artfully designed, on purpose, with each detail precisely constructed in love. I was worth dying for, and I was worth pursuing. I was a child of the King, protected, holy, worthy, righteous, and redeemed. I was His. I was not alone. I was loved.

3. He gave me a purpose beyond myself. Once I found myself healed and whole, loved and set free, I felt an urgency to share this miraculous happening. It’s like, if you suddenly had the best cup of coffee in your life. It would be all you could talk about. You’d make sure your spouse, your best friend, and all your coworkers knew how to find this divine cup of joe. This is where I found myself.

Each day, as my spirit draws closer to the Lord, I become more certain of the plans He has for me. Knowing my identity in Him, I am able to throw off the minuscule concerns of this world that have no eternal perspective. I am able to shed the busyness, the ridiculous distractions that vie for my attention, and in essence, pull me further from His truth. I think that’s the first step to finding God’s purpose for your life. You have to be able to let go of all that entangles you, trying to take first chair over His kingdom.

As you can release the treasures of this world, and can begin building eternal equity instead, you can find true purpose. You can find true peace. True joy, even.

When you can let go of the things of this world, the titles and roles that you think complete you, and instead find real fulfillment through your heritage and the inheritance of your Heavenly Father, you will discover your true path in life. Consider this world a practice run. The real thing is what awaits us.

When I realized this profound, yet simple truth, I found purpose. I found a purpose beyond myself and my front yard. I found a way to be full, to the brim, and an understanding that because of Him, I am never lacking. And in this fullness of life, I make each day about pouring out that love on others. The more I give, the more I get. I never realized that before.

So, now I would encourage you. Sit down, clear your mind, and ask yourself, “what has God done for me?” You might just discover along the way, what you can do for Him.

How God Made a Miracle Marriage Out of Our Mess

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I guess if any relationship was doomed for failure, it was ours. I had come off the tail-end of heartbreak hard and fast. After six years of marriage, my ex-husband had come home and told me he didn’t love me anymore. Already an injured bird, it didn’t take much to rip off my wings, ensuring I would never fly again. Indeed, I was a woman who based her worth on the people who loved her, or sadly, in the event of divorce, the man who didn’t. And there you had this pitiful waif of a gal, running back home to Mississippi with her tail between her legs, sent packing by the funny guy from Chicago who had decided she wasn’t worth the effort. It was this broken mess that plunged heart-first into another love affair, but don’t go feeling sorry for me as the rejected woman. In all honesty, I was probably a terrible wife.

So, there you had a terrible (ex) wife, getting involved with a fellow ex’er. Yep, we were both once-divorced, and with a mix of trepidation and hope, we stepped into the mess of one another’s life. I’m not sure who was worse off, him or me, but I don’t guess that matters anymore. We certainly didn’t let it stop us then. My husband (husband now, that is) and I, ran into each other’s arms. He could no better hold me up than I could him, but I guess we tried. Two negatives do not make a positive, but we were determined to make our math work.

Within the first year of being married we found out a lot about each other. If dating me for a year, status post divorce and dirty thirty crisis, had not let Ben know I was an alcoholic, then living with me certainly did. He knew I was a homebody, but realizing I stayed home so I could drink became ever-clear (see what I did there) all the more once we were under the same roof. Each morning he would crush cans, twenty or thirty littering the kitchen counters, and he would laugh about how we needed to start recycling. I could drink him under the table, and we both knew it. After I began to abstain we would understand better why.

Now, don’t go thinking I was some saint who poured out my bottles of alcohol as some sort of victory stance. Nope. The only reason I quit drinking (at the time) was because of the tiny baby growing in my womb. I had desired, and failed, to stop drinking for years, but it wasn’t until the life of a child entered the mix that I put my vices on the back burner.

Well, I wasn’t the only one who wanted to quit being an addict. I still remember, at seven months pregnant, confronting my husband about missing narcotics. How had I not realized my spouse was on drugs before?! I guess I had always been too drunk to notice.

Y’all, that first year was a doozie. Maybe even the second year too. I’m not sure how two total idiots made a marriage work, but I’ll be the first to say it was a God-thing. Now, I certainly wouldn’t advise young couples to pursue matrimony and starting a family with someone as broken as yourself, but then again, I suppose we’re all broken in one way or another. Our problems were just more obvious to the keen observer. In between the lies, addiction, and wounded hearts, God did a miracle. He took two hopeless, helpless wrecks and exploded His spirit within us. I know it’s only God’s grace that made it happen rather than fall through the cracks.

It was God’s grace that caused me to give my new husband a chance that day on the sofa. I think he wanted that confrontation. I think he wanted to tell me. I think he wanted me to find out about the drugs. But I also think he thought I’d leave him. I did not.

In the heart of all men and women is the potential for good. We are created in the image of our Father in Heaven, and it’s only sin and this world that gets everything so convoluted. We all have sin, and if you say you don’t, you’re lying to yourself. The only question is, are you willing to be forgiven? And perhaps, also, are you willing to forgive?

I’ve realized that marriage is a whole lot about forgiveness. It’s forgiving because you were first forgiven, and it’s about loving beyond just yourself. I can’t explain how grateful I am that the Lord gave me such wisdom that first year or two into our marriage. He made me abundantly aware that I was so far from perfect, it wasn’t even funny. That I couldn’t expect perfection from others. But that He (alone) could make things perfect. He could heal broken hearts, broken lives, and make all things new. I didn’t go about trying to fix my broken husband. Instead, I went about fixing me. Or rather, allowing the Lord to show me how.

I realized pretty quickly that I couldn’t focus on what my husband had done or was doing wrong, but I could focus on being a better wife. I realized that I couldn’t make him do things my way, but I could do things for him. I discovered I couldn’t change him, but I could change me. Y’all, the craziest thing happened. While I was busy making myself a better wife, Ben became a better husband. I didn’t ask him to change; I just trusted Jesus to grow us both. And boy, did He ever.

Each day seems better than the last. Do you know what I mean? I hear so many people say, “marriage is hard,” but is it really? I don’t think marriage is hard. I think life is hard. Having someone to transverse through the difficulties of a hard life? Gosh, that’s a blessing.

My husband is my best friend. I didn’t think marriage could be as good as it is, but it only gets better. We have seen a lot in a short (long) decade. We saw addictions broken (ten years sober/clean for us both). We saw trust rebuilt. We experienced the birth and raising of three babies. We experienced poverty and more than enough. Then we experienced poverty again. We’ve been through a lost business, overdrawn credit cards, reposed vehicles, and foreclosure. We’ve seen ups and downs, but only of the life and world around us. Never of our marriage. Life will give you a hard shake and very little break, but marriage should be the gift from God that can be a rock in shifting sand. In fact, if Jesus is the foundation of your marriage, it should be a strong tower of refuge in this stormy life.

I serve my spouse in love, and he serves me also. We cover ourselves in scripture, and God’s Word is the instruction manual for our marriage. Every reaction I have towards him is spirit-driven (or rather I strive for it to be). Those rogue, angry thoughts will surface occasionally, but that’s why a good, Christ-like pause is important. I measure my words, and so does he. I can’t for the life of me remember the last time he said something hurtful to me. My husband is so gentle with me, so caring and considerate. I don’t think that’s a typical “man” thing. I think that’s a Jesus thing. My spouse handles me with care, driven by love, inspired by our Savior, and I treat him the same. Slow to speak, slow to anger, and quick to forgive. Focusing on the other person, even to the point of denying self. I don’t have to worry that by denying my own needs I am left lacking. My husband meets my every need, and I serve him the same.

It’s funny to me, looking back. Our relationship was doomed to failure, from the perspective of the world, that is. God, on the other hand, looked at the mess of us, like a glob of unformed clay, and He said, “I can work with that.” We were malleable, you know? We were willing to have God change us for the better. I mean, we knew we were broken, and I guess that’s the first step to a happy marriage and life. Looking at yourself (and not just the other person) and admitting you need to be changed by the Lord. It’s looking to Jesus to fix you, not the person you’re in a relationship with. It’s allowing God to do the refining, and then trusting that He knows how to shape things better than you ever could alone. That’s the only explanation for what started between Ben and me thirteen (even twenty-three) years ago, and what it has become today. God knew what He was doing when He put us together, and despite our attempts to foul things up and all our missteps, God still made a happily-ever-after out of our mess. He gave us a miracle marriage, and each day is like Heaven on earth.

The Only Love That Makes Sense

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I was listening to the radio this morning on the way to work, and as the singer’s lyrics rang out, I chuckled to myself at how true his words were.

He had sang, “it’s the kind of love that doesn’t make sense.”

And it certainly didn’t make sense how emotional I had been just twenty minutes before when listening to another song. A love song. My commute had started with a song about surrender, about handing my life to God so that He could make it into something beautiful. As I drove down the dark, deserted portion of turnpike, I had raised one hand in the air in agreement, and the act, thought, whatever, as the words poured through the speaker and into my heart, had caused me to weep uncontrollably.

Such love. That was what brought me to tears. Such peace at having my Heavenly Father direct my steps. That’s what had caused my emotional outpouring. I couldn’t help but bawl at such a wonderful love, and the fact that this relationship alone could rock me so severely made no sense, from a worldly point of you. I mean, I adored my children more than the air I breathed, but it took an intense event surrounding their lives to make my eyes leak at the corner. And I loved my husband more than words could express, yet even my immense affection for him did not impact me like the love of my Savior did. When I opened myself to the fact of what Jesus had done for me over 2,000 years ago, but also what He continues to do each and every day, I. Was. Wrecked. A total blubber-mess of gratitude and joy.

Sadly, I knew that for many people my response to thoughts of love for the Lord didn’t make sense, but as a woman who had suffered through the anxiety of trying to do life on my own, or the frustration of desperately seeking acceptance elsewhere, it made perfect sense. In fact, it was the only love that made any sense!

My husband is a wonderful husband, but the best thing I ever did for our marriage was understand that he couldn’t be my personal Mr. Fixit. He couldn’t save me, heal me, or love me perfectly. He just couldn’t. Human hearts are built longing for a perfect love, and the only surefire cure for the human condition is Jesus.

Spouses will let you down, friends will fail you. Children will frustrate you, and even your best pal will hurt your feelings. People will judge your performance, and they’ll falsely base your personal worth on what you do or the mistakes you make. These are the kind of common actions that create phrases like “love hurts,” but in all reality it’s the world that hurts. It’s sin that hurts. Love, in essence, in its purest form, the fact that God is love, this kind of love will never hurt us. Our running from it will hurt us, but there’s healing, total and complete, in surrendering to the perfect love we were created to enjoy.

The bottom line is that anything we pursue in this life, be it person or substance, to fill the void in our soul, it will fall short. It will be like the love you have for tacos. It’s pretty awesome, but it won’t save a life or build a future. Not even the best tacos. My spouse is the bee’s knees, but I don’t put the weight of perfection or filling my soul on his shoulders. He would collapse, and I’d end up dissatisfied. But, when I can realize that by falling fully for the only love that makes sense (the love of Christ), I am more able to healthily and happily invest in my other relationships. I can share that perfect love with them, and together we can all be content.

It’s Okay if All You Want is To Be Still

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This morning my mind was running circuits and trailing tangents as it usually does when I’m trying to wake up amidst the shower steam. Basically I go between praying and personal thoughts for my day. Sometimes I’ll go over a previous event, as if thinking it through amongst honestly muttered prayers will lend needed clarity to my thoughts. One of the things that ran through my mind this morning was the previous afternoon in an orientation class. At one point the presenter had asked us a question.

He had questioned, “what is your goal for yourself in the next five years?”

I know, this is a common question. We’re taught throughout life that for successful living we need to have a five year plan. I get that. We’re encouraged to make goals, and then to chase them. We’re instructed to make a plan, plot out the course to achieving it, and to let nothing stop you in that pursuit.

Somewhere between mentally revisiting that round table discussion and washing my face, I found myself repeating the 23rd Psalm. This was one of the scriptures that I frequently prayed over myself and my day before going to work, but this morning I paused close to the beginning. I had been stopped in my tracks by the words “you lead me beside still waters,” and in that moment of silent reflection I felt the Lord say something to me.

It’s ok if all you want is to be still.

I needed that encouragement. You see, yesterday I had very boldly and honestly given my lack of planning for the next five years. I mean, I was the first to speak, but as the same question was answered all around the table, I realized mine was an anomaly. Everyone had a plan, laid out, goal oriented, with their professional development in mind. Most wanted to further their education, moving to the next step in being a better them. And that was great. It just wasn’t where I was at currently. It’s not that I wasn’t constantly learning and growing; I definitely am. It’s simply that I felt peace with where I was at the moment, and I had no stringent requirement of myself to plan out my next steps.

At the time I had said, “I’m 42 years old. I’ve been in nursing for twenty years, and I’m at a place in my life right now where I’m completely dependent on the Lord. I go where He leads me. He led me here, and I feel like He wants me to stay here. Will I be here in a year? I have no idea. I take each day as it comes, and I trust the Lord for each one.”

You could have heard a pin drop. I’m sure, for many, my words sounded crazy, but I had also come to a place in life where that didn’t bother me either. It’s not that I found people who made plans to be lacking in faith. Not at all! In fact, I’m a planner by nature, and I think it’s prudent and wise. It’s just not the season I am in. For the past two years I have based where I worked and lived on the doors God opened and the ones He closed. To do that I had to completely surrender to the unknown. It wasn’t easy, but it strengthened my faith and walk with Christ in a way I could have never imagined. And just because I’ve taken a permanent, steady job, it doesn’t mean I’m going to stop following His lead.

I think that sometimes our continuous, perfectly laid out plans can distance us from God. I know, for me, planning my course gave me a sense of control, and that comforted me. What I’ve learned, though, is that perfectly laid out steps and a five year plan won’t bring me the contentment I desire or the success I need for a happy life. Self improvement is good, but without working on the inside too, even well laid plans will fall flat.

As I thought over the previous discussion in the classroom, this morning in the shower, I think I had a moment where I questioned myself. When God calls you to be different, it’s hard not to feel a little weird. But when I felt the Lord impress to me the freedom to be in a season of stillness, it calmed my spirit. I thought back to something else from the previous day. In reading scripture I had been especially drawn to the familiar story in the Bible of Mary and her sister Martha. Martha ran around hurriedly making preparations, but Mary sat at the feet of Jesus enjoying His presence. I don’t think one sister is better than the other, but I do believe there are times in our life to be a Martha, yet also times to be a Mary. Jesus doesn’t require our sacrifice, but He does call us to relationship.

I happened to be in a season of life where my ability to be still positively impacted my relationship with the Lord. I had made many plans in my life, but currently I resided in a place where I desired Him to direct my steps. Some called my life “living by the seat of my pants,” but I preferred to consider it sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening intently as He taught.

A Letter to the Woman Who Wants a Better Husband

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To Desperately Praying Wives Everywhere,

Marriage isn’t what you imagined it to be, huh? I get it.

I remember being a young woman, daydreaming about building a family with the perfect guy. Maybe you too imagined how the Christmas cards would look, matching red pajamas, and beaming babies. Or you pictured sitting at the large, mahogany dining table together, sweet smiles, grateful bellies, an aura of well-earned pride over the most tender potroast ever. Sitting in the den, cuddled on the couch together, the doting children at your feet, a blazing fire crackling.

You didn’t ever see yourself screaming as you set up the auto-timer on your camera, “I said look this way! Smile or so help me, God!”

As your hurriedly tell your honey goodnight, taking your turn to tuck in exhausted kids at the end of another monotonous day, you realize, life is nothing like romance novels.

“It’s your turn,” you grumble to your spouse, in reference to the sink full of stained Corelle (the only dishes the children don’t consistently break), the aftermath of being a short-order cook for picky eaters.

Did anyone even say, thank you?!

It’s hardly ever movie night. No, it’s crying over homework right up until bedtime. It’s envying your partner as he dozes off in his recliner.

He could sleep through a tsunami!

It’s picking up the same mess, waiting in the car line at the elementary school. It’s taking off work for another doctor appointment, or leaving early to make the soccer game. It’s packing lunches, scraping together a fast meal, and telling your husband, “not tonight, hon. I feel all bloated.”

All you know is, it’s nothing like you imagined at all. You wanted a regular date night. Not a peck on the cheek as you scurry past one another on a rushed Monday morning.

“Do you know where I put my keys, dear?!” He says.

Sometimes you feel like no one could find their own butt if you didn’t tell them where God put it!

The next thing you know you’re angry about towels in the floor and balled up socks under the couch.

Does anyone know there’s a thing called a laundry basket?!

You find yourself easily annoyed over tiny nuisances.

Like, why does he put all his crap on the mantle?! It’s not his personal junk table!

Why is it every time you go in the bathroom, the hand towel is on the floor?!

You end up feeling like you. Do. Everything. Like, if you didn’t hold this family together, the whole thing would spin out of control. You work, pick up the children, make supper, clean house, help with homework, give baths, read bedtime stories, say prayers. Then it starts all over again the next day!

Maybe if he could just carry his fair share of the load!

Your marriage becomes more like a competition, and you are certain you bear the heavier burden. You keep a scorecard instead of a prayer journal. You allow one bitter thought to lead into another. A mound of discontent forms, threatening to topple and crush you both.

You become short-tempered, easily perturbed, getting snippy before you can even stop yourself. He responds back with anger, and then the silent treatment ensues.

This isn’t the way it’s supposed to be.

So, I’m going to offer you some advice, my friend, something I learned through much trial and error. I’m going to tell you how to get a better husband.

Are you ready?

Wait for it…

The way to get a better husband is to become a better wife.

What?! I know what you’re thinking. He’s the one that needs to change, right? He needs to help more around the house, be a better listener, hang out with the kids more!

Well, this might be an unpopular opinion, but I think the best bet for a better marriage is to take the focus off what your partner is doing wrong, and instead focus on what you can do better. Your nagging and obvious discontent can change very little, but your persistent prayer can change a lot. I’ve found that the more I seek to serve my spouse, the more he serves me in return. You can change no man, but the Lord has softened more hearts than you can count. Seek the Lord often, and follow scripture for the kind of wife that pleases God. Everything we do in this life should be to His glory and service, and therefore my marriage is my ministry. I strive to show my spouse love like Jesus would do, and I’ve found that since I began this work, my marriage has been abundantly blessed.

My spouse serves me in love, and neither of us waste time on what the other isn’t doing. Our relationship is a partnership, but we don’t bother with keeping score. Instead of ensuring it’s an equal 50/50 relationship, we simply give 100% of ourselves to the marriage. It’s not a contest, it’s a team, and we don’t bother with whose turn it is to sprint. We just keep pace together.

I discovered that selfishness is the saboteur of marriage. When we focus on who we think is giving more (which is usually ourselves), we become blinded by lies from the enemy. Seeds of discontent are sown, we forgo forgiveness, and grace is a goner. But if we can let go of the things that aren’t important, instead focusing on the love we share, we can calmly and clearly see our spouse’s heart for us.

So, if you’re that desperately praying wife, beating your head against the wall for how to make your man be a better husband, perhaps the answer isn’t found in him. Perhaps it’s found in you. I know it’s found in Jesus.

Start today. Begin to see your marriage as a ministry to the Lord. Serve your spouse like you’re serving Jesus, and watch as the Lord begins to bless your life. Surrender your spouse to God, and you just do you. The Lord will sort out the rest. You’ll see.

Signed,

A Passionately Praying Wife Whose Prayers Were Answered

3 Steps to Experience the Miracles of Jesus in Your Life

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Don’t you love how you can read something in the Bible many different times, but it can suddenly speak something different to your heart than it ever has before? I used to think maybe I hadn’t paid as much attention to detail the first few times, but then I realized it was actually the Holy Spirit. You see, the Bible is a living word and Jesus speaks to us through it as he wills. I know this, but I still felt that feeling of awe when reading a familiar account recently. The feeding of the 5,000 in Luke is a Bible story taught to little children, but I felt like a youth when I read it yesterday. It spoke anew to me of the responsibility his disciples held in assisting Jesus to carry out the miracle. They had responsibilities, and it turns out, so do we.

If you aren’t interested in seeing Jesus work miracles in and through your life then stop reading now. Close out this link and continue on in your place of comfort, but if you’re eager for even just some crumbs from the Master’s table, then let’s break it down together.

1. Let go of your plan. You’ll notice that right away when the disciples saw a problem they started coming up with solutions. Practical solutions. Hey, I’ve discovered that miracles don’t typically appear practical, and it didn’t readily enter the minds of the disciples to ask for one. I’m sure we can relate.

Hungry crowd. Check. Can someone call Pizza Hut and see if they deliver out this far? But seriously, it says the twelve saw the crowd, went to Jesus and said, “hey, you probably better tell this mob to cut out and grab some grub” (ok, I’m paraphrasing, but you get me).

They saw the issue. Hungry crowd. They went for an obvious solution, albeit not the best. Sure, it may have been the easiest, but the crowd would miss the blessing if they left early to go find food. Turns out, the twelve would have missed their blessing as well.

See, for Jesus to do what he can do, we have to let go of our way. We have to forfeit our plans much of the time. We can’t go into prayer and say, “Jesus, I need you to do ______.” Instead we need to ask, “Lord, how should we solve this? What can you do in this hopeless, difficult situation? I know you have a plan.”

2. Obey. Ok, so when the disciples went to Jesus with the problem and solution (in their minds), he was quick to say, “you give them something to eat.”

You.

How many times has Jesus said “you” to one of us and we’ve answered back, “oh, not me, Lord. Someone else is far more qualified I’m sure.”

Do you remember the rich ruler who asked what he needed to do to follow Jesus? Christ gave him the answer, but it wasn’t what he wanted to hear. He walked off disappointed, and Jesus wasn’t able to show him the miracles he could have worked in and through that rich man. He couldn’t obey. Jesus was asking too much.

If you’re wanting to see the Lord work in your life then you’re going to have to obey. Obedience isn’t a bad thing. It’s not God’s heavy-handed way of beating us down. It’s actually a practice in love. When my husband tells our daughters to stop when they’re about to run into a parking lot, he instructs them in love. He wants to keep them safe, he wants to bless them, and he wants them to live to see all the wonderful things this life has to offer. When he instructs, they obey. Their obedience to him is a service in love. They obey out of respect, but also because they know Dad has their best interests at heart. Much the same, if we’re wanting the best life has to offer, and especially if we want to see the Lord work mightily in our lives, we must learn to obey.

3. Step out.

Okay, I love this part of the story. Jesus says, “have them sit down in groups of about fifty each.”

Alright, so first off Jesus tells them this right after they had relayed they only had five loaves of bread and two fish. For five thousand men! And that’s just the men they were counting. What about the women and children?! I know my nine year old daughter could eat the two fish and at least a loaf and a half herself. Regardless of the huge number, Jesus pulls out of left field this rather odd picnic idea, with limited resources, and do you know what his gang of twelve do?

Now, they knew. Don’t forget, they knew he could do some stuff. They knew he worked miracles. The thing is, we as a church know Jesus can work miracles too, but somewhere between shouting hallelujah and stepping out personally we get cold feet. We say, “yeah, I believe Jesus still performs miracles,” yet we don’t believe he can work them through us. We assume he saves the miracle business for the truly pious, the preacher, maybe the neighbor who remembers to read their Bible every single day. But not us.

So, we miss the miracle. Maybe we’re afraid we’ll step out and it won’t work. It doesn’t say it in scripture, but I imagine one of those twelve, as they sheepishly instructed hungry, tired folks to sit in groups of fifty, like a kindergarten story time, I imagine one of them must have felt silly. Surely one of them wondered how their teacher was going to pull this one off. I’m sure there was some doubt, yet still they obeyed. Luke goes on to say they did it. They did as Jesus said. They sat everyone down. In groups of fifty at that. And do you know what happened?!

Everyone was fed. And they were satisfied.

So, I guess the question is, are you hungry? Are you craving to be filled with the healing, joy, fullness, and divine knowledge of Christ? If you are thinking “yes” then maybe it’s time to pop a squat and anticipate your share as Jesus breaks the bread of miraculous power in his hands, blesses it, and then passes it on to you. He’s got enough to go around. He just requires more people who will let go of their specific lunch plans, have a seat, and partake in the miracle provision he provides.

The Lord Loves Chicken

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The Lord loves chicken, but more than that, He loves people. I was reminded once again how religion stifles that love and how we, as the church, can point out the sawdust in someone’s eye better than anyone. A recent story emerged in the media, and like the good, obedient children we are, we slurped up what the angry masses were serving.

How dare Chick-fil-A back down from their Godly principles and give in to the masses for the sake of money?!

If you missed the hoopla on social media, it seems the popular chicken chain stopped supporting Christian charities. Specifically, it had ceased support of two particular charities with a history of opposing same-sex marriages. So sayeth the media. Articles erupted detailing how the restaurant would no longer be donating to charities that stood in opposition to the LGBTQ community, and we all know how our favorite fast food joint had received flack in the recent past from the Left due to their support of “anti-gay charities.” Had Chick-fil-A finally caved?! Well, that seemed to be the religious sect’s stance. Even politicians came out of the woodwork with their opinions.

Never mind that people are dying of hunger or children as young as eight are being sex trafficked. Let’s focus our energy on fast food politics.

Personally, I first heard this announcement on a news channel in my patient’s hospital room over the weekend. Such an important news story, it seemed. When will we open our eyes to the division the media promotes?

My first thought (as a Southern, Christian Woman who loves Jesus), “oh, I get it. They want to show love without bias. Makes sense.”

Like, I never even thought, oh my gosh. I can’t believe they’re backing down from their convictions! The world is going to Hell in a hand basket!

No, I didn’t see this as a backing down move. I just saw it as a sign of love. I’m reminded of another unpopular opinion I hold as a Southern woman. As a Mississippi native, I am in favor of replacing the state flag of Mississippi. Forever it’s been the Confederate flag, and the majority of my peers from our state desire to hold on to it for reasons of “standing true to their Southern Heritage.” And while I’m all for pride in heritage, moreover I’m all for loving people. If something I “stand for” hurts a large group of people (such as the African American community) then I will lay down my pride in favor of love. Is that so crazy?!

But this post isn’t about flags, rather it’s about our innate ability to become offended about anything. It turns out it wasn’t even like the media made it sound. Chick-fil-A didn’t suddenly withdraw their financial support to appease protestors, but rather restructured their giving when the contractual obligation came due to renew. I mean, I’ve given to Christian radio stations in the past, but as God led me to different areas of giving, I’ve rerouted my funds to say the homeless and shelters for those who have been sex trafficked. Does that mean I no longer stand for Christian music? Of course not.

But even if it was a thing (and not just a media fabrication to cause division among the church), what would be so wrong with a Christian influencer within the community, such as Chick-fil-A deciding it wanted to remove itself from a controversy that made it appear judgmental and uncaring.

You might remember a story from around 2,000 years ago. It seems that this radical lover was causing quite a stir for his association with prostitutes and thieves. You might recall reading about it.

Matthew 9:10-13 (NIV)

10 While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. 11 When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

12 On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. 13 But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’[a] For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

This was my first thought when I heard the story about Chick-fil-A. I didn’t assume they had laid down their guns out of fear or for monetary gain, but rather to break bread (and chicken nuggets, if you will) with everyone who would come to the table. Once there, you can’t help but notice the friendly staff, the faithful favor of God in the business, or that amazing sauce. After all, it’s at the table where Jesus gave of Himself to those around Him, and we as Christians will never be able to pass along His love if we’re making restrictions for the dining hall.

Jesus said, “come to me, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28).

What He didn’t say was, ‘come to me, everybody, but only if you’ve read my laws and are abiding by them completely! Then we can talk.’

If that were the case, I don’t think any of us could come over for dinner. Just saying. You invite folks over; God will take care of the rest.

Listen, I’m all about the Bible. I’m all for calling a sin a sin, and I’m all about standing firm in my convictions. The problem that occurs is we get so caught up in “the law” and pointing out wrong from right that we neglect the awesomeness of grace. We forget that we’re all sinners, unworthy of the gift we’ve been given, but thankfully saved by His great grace. Yet instead of paying forward that mercy that was given us, we pull out the judge’s gavel.

Do y’all remember that parable Jesus told about the master who forgave the huge debt his worker owed him? If not, allow me to summarize. This dude’s debt was totally forgiven, wiped clean and let go. Awesome, right? Well, this same fella comes across a worker of his own who owes him some change, and instead of passing along the grace he was given, he demands repayment. So when the big boss finds out, he locks up the first fella for not forgiving as he was forgiven.

Do you see where this is going?

It’s all good to stand for what you believe, but if you throw stones to do it, what does that say about you? If you can’t open up your table to the folks who are the most hungry, what kind of servant are you?

Don’t let the enemy succeed in separating the children of God. Don’t fall into the trap of the religious Pharisees. Don’t condemn a man with sawdust in his eyes; you’re missing the plank in your own.

The Lord loves chicken, I’m certain He does, but more-so I know for a fact that He loves people. If what we’re doing doesn’t reflect that, then maybe it’s time to change the recipe.