Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

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.

When Jesus Tells You to Put Out Deep

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I come from a long line of fisherman; not by trade, but certainly not just for pleasure. What I mean is, my kinfolk wanted to catch something when they went fishing. My grandpa was known for his ability to reel in a huge haul even when others couldn’t get a bite. He took pride in knowing the waters, what time the fish were biting, and what bait best caught which fish. He was an expert at his trade, and he knew how to always bring home a full basket of fish.

Me? I didn’t inherit that specific skill. It’s not that I didn’t like fishing. I quite enjoyed it. I just wasn’t that great of a fisherwoman. I’d go home empty handed a lot, but it didn’t really bother me. See, I didn’t so much want to catch fish as much as I just liked fishing. I can think back on sweet Summer afternoons, a book in hand, draping the line between my bare toes, so if I got a tug I’d know. I was too busy reading to watch my bobber, and as you can imagine, I got my bait stolen more than not.

Not catching a big bass or catfish was just fine for me sitting out on the lake across from where I grew up, but when you start talking about bigger fish, well, it’s a different story. This morning I was reading in the Book of Luke about some guys who fished for a living. In fact, these fellas had been fishing all night. The bad part was they weren’t catching anything. They had the boat, they had the net, and they certainly had the desire, but their haul for this particular excursion had been paltry.

Suddenly, though, Jesus offers them a specific instruction, and when I read it the words were like an electric shock up my spine.

Jesus had instructed, “put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” (Luke 5:4 ESV)

It got me to thinking… Jesus was telling me to put out deep.

How many times are we in that boat, we have the desire to do God’s will, and we even have the right equipment, but we can’t seem to net a result? Perhaps it’s because we haven’t yet put out into the deep.

Y’all, there is nothing wrong with the shallow end. I like it, personally. It’s safe. You don’t get tired from treading water, and you can always see the bottom. The shallow end is known, comfortable, and you get plenty wet swimming there. But I’ve found that sometimes to really swim you have to go out to the deep end. To catch fish you have to stop being distracted and pay attention. You just do. And if Jesus is telling you to go deeper, you won’t be satisfied until you do.

Almost two years ago Jesus told me and my husband to go out deep. I even wanted to do it, too, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t scary. A lot of people we loved tried to talk us out of it. They didn’t want us to drown, and I get that. We just knew that Jesus wanted us to fill His nets more than we could do in the shallow end.

We had to leave the familiar town, jobs, and family support systems we knew. In fact, just to make sure we didn’t get cold feet, the Lord pushed us into the deep. He took away the security of the familiar, forcing us to step out in the move He had placed on our hearts. We left a failing business in search of better employment, but that doesn’t mean we could see the bottom. The deep can be murky. Faith keeps you swimming.

We traveled a thousand miles with a pickup truck of suitcases, and a reservation at an extended stay hotel. It was the size of our previous living room, and the rent almost three times our mortgage back home!

I questioned, “how could this be God’s Plan?!!”

But still He whispered, “let out into the deep.”

Y’all, I had scoured the internet prior to leaving for Florida and I couldn’t find anywhere to house a family of five within our budget. The housing assistance with my travel company was no help. They quoted me a $13,000 bill for a three month lease with what they found! No one wanted to do a short lease, or they were charging more than I could afford. It was so much more/worse than I had bargained for, and after another fruitless day I had broken down into hopeless tears. I couldn’t for the life of me fix this particular problem, and that’s when I knew deep down in my Spirit that I had to stop trying.

So, we had left our home with no concrete housing solution. We had enough money in the bank (from selling all of our possessions) to last in that hotel maybe a month. Still we put out deep. We knew that’s where we would net what God had for us.

Have you ever experienced one of those crazy coincidences, like, where one step leads to another? I don’t believe in luck or coincidences, but I do believe in a faithful God. Within a week and a half of housing my family in little more than a broom closet, in the worst section of downtown Orlando, God led me in one specific direction for a housing solution. Of the thirty people I emailed, one replied. She replied to tell me she couldn’t accommodate us, but she did have a suggestion of someone who might could. That suggestion led us to not only a bigger space, but one that was in a safe area, in a gated community, at 1/4 of the price we had been paying, with our own yard and a community pool. I had exhausted every ounce of what I knew to do, but God led us exactly to what we needed. And it ended up being better than anything we could have manufactured on our own.

Many times God has exactly the answer we need. He has the exact solution to our dilemma, but He cannot present His solution until we put out into the deep. He cannot throw us a lifesaver until we leave the safety of the shore. We’re crying for a catch, but we’re refusing to let down our net. We’re not happy with splashing around in the kiddie pool, yet we’re afraid to cross the rope into the deep end.

He’s saying, “let down into the deep.”

We weren’t happy, you see. Back then. We weren’t happy with the way things were, we wanted something different, and we wanted God to lead us to new things. But we were also hesitant.

We’ve been fishing all night and haven’t caught a thing!

That’s what Simon said. But then he remembered what He knew about Jesus. He decided, well, if He says do it, then I’ll do it. I’ll let my nets out again, but deeper this time. I’ll trust that what He instructs me to do will work, even though I’ve already done everything I know to do.

Y’all, God is still calling us deeper. Each day we become aware of more areas of our life where we’ve been trying to do it on our own, but it hasn’t been netting the results we desire. We’re realizing that we have to keep putting out into the deep. It’s still scary, but the thing is, we’ve seen the kind of fisherman Jesus is. He does it for pleasure and for the fruit. He gets joy from the harvest. When you let down where He leads, trusting His instruction and provision, the result is always more than your boat can hold!

This post alone cannot hold all the specific, miraculous instances where God provided for us financially, protected us physically, or sustained us emotionally through the last two years. It’s been amazing, and subsequently we’ve become stronger swimmers. Listen, I’m not saying you have to follow our lead, sell all your possessions, and take off to new places. But I am suggesting this. If you’ve been praying for a change or asking God for something in particular, and you’re just not seeing any result, perhaps ask yourself if He is calling you to let out into the deep. Ask yourself if He is calling you to trust Him deeper, get to know Him further, seek Him at new depths, or simply to stop thrashing about in the waves like He’s not able to save you. The thing is, when Jesus tell you to put out deep, you need to be ready to drop your net.

Is Satan Stealing Our Marriages?

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This morning I sat outside sipping hot coffee while a cool (but not too cold breeze) stirred the air. My husband and children still slept, and per usual I had awoken a bit before them so I might enjoy some quiet time before our day began. We had made plans to go swimming at a natural spring, and I knew the task of packing up for a day away awaited me. There would be suits to track down, dry clothes to pack, and of course, food for the day. Feeding a family of five at a snack bar got pricey, so bringing our own grub was a must. I’d need cold drinks to keep everyone hydrated, and I wondered if we should blow up and haul our own innertube?

Another breeze blew over me, refreshing, nice, and the Hebrew word ruach entered my mind. Wind, breath, the very spirit of God, it blew on me and I felt peace, contentment, satisfaction. “I could sit here all day,” I whispered, and by the time my husband woke up I had decided to do just that. He was quick to agree, and just like that we dropped the well-intentioned plans we had made for the day.

Have you ever noticed how plans play out? Especially with small children? You spend a large amount of time creating fun ideas, creating the best environment for those ideas, and struggling to have them play out just as you envisioned. Which never happens. We’ve forgotten how to be still, and we’ve forgotten how to enjoy simple. And it’s just one more thing that the enemy is using to drive a wedge between a husband and wife.

How many expensive vacations end in exhaustion? An empty savings account, a stressed out mind, and the silent treatment. We’re a very mobile generation, always on the move, and we expect as much from our family as we do our internet provider.

Hurry up! Come on! Let’s go. We’re running out of time!

Wives are on edge, and husbands are at the end of their rope. You see, both are working very hard to create a picture perfect life, one that Instagram would be proud of.

“I’m making memories,” we proclaim.

But at what cost, I wonder?

Overtime. Husbands and wives both working full-time to support a family is commonplace, and while I’ll be the first to admit that this world today is crazy expensive, I’ll also be the first to confess that it isn’t as pricey as we create it. We are the ones who decide our homes must be a certain size. We need the fourth bedroom and downstairs half-bath. We gotta have more than one vehicle, and it needs to be something reliable. Minivan? Yuck. No thanks. A Suburban, please. We work to buy the stuff we don’t need, and as our square footage grows, so does our work week. Cha-Ching.

But one thing is for sure. We do it for our children. They need the absolute best. They need the dance class, drama camp, and tumbling too. All of the above, please. Sign us up!

I’ll volunteer to chaperone the field trip. Hubby can coach little league on the weekends. Games on Sunday? No problem.

We pull an extra shift at work to purchase new uniforms, use that credit card for the nicer pair of cleats. Johnny says all the other kids are wearing the name-brand ones, and you don’t want him to feel left out or get bullied.

Homework. Oh my goodness, the homework those kids bring in the door. You yell too much, and then you feel guilty. You know your son is just tired from staying up late due to that extended basketball practice, and waking up early to drive across town to his exclusive private school.

Somewhere in between the late nights, running errands after practice, overtime at the office for next year’s Disney trip, and squeezing in a quick WalMart trip for another Reading Fair project, you manage to squeeze in a date night. You sit at a dark booth, both of you with your heads in your phone, and you wonder when life will slow down.

Was it always this hard?! They say it’s easier after the kids leave home, but then you think of all your parent’s friends who got divorced once empty nesters. Did they run out of stuff to talk about? You can certainly relate. I mean, what’s there to discuss once the conversation doesn’t center around the children, where they’re going and what achievement they just won? What happened to people staying in love forever? Maybe true love doesn’t exist anymore.

Or perhaps we’ve just changed our investment strategies. Maybe our focus isn’t on our marriages. I think we’re too overwhelmed to feed into that relationship. We’ve become complacent in our comfortable life as roommates, partners in parenting, and financial assistant roles. We assume our marriage will thrive without watering, with plans to feed into it later. There’s just no time!

I wonder if we create our overloaded schedules? Is it our boss insisting we work late, or are we the cause? We can’t face our spouse that we forgot how to talk to. We can’t face another conversation about the kids’ future. The stress and worry is too much, and overtime seems like a pleasant option.

I wonder if we create our debt? We need 3000 square feet! We need a trip to the coast! We need a closet so packed the doors won’t close, and a cupboard so full of processed food we can make on the fly! We need Maui, a newer cell phone, and of course, more toys. Toys to keep the children entertained, but also toys to keep each other happy. It fills the silence, you know.

We are so focused on raising the best children on the block. We are so focused on appearances. We are so focused on bigger, better, and more. We’ve gotten so good at being busy; we consider it a badge of honor. We’ve gotten so concerned with keeping up with what everyone else is doing. We’ve gotten so used to being stressed out that we think it’s normal. We medicate with wine, and we overindulge in our favorite vices. We’re too tired for sex, too exhausted to just sit and talk. We keep waiting for life to slow down, never understanding that we set the pace.

Husbands and wives become opponents instead of teammates. Marriage becomes a contest to see who contributes the most to the family unit. We become bitter, expecting our spouse to give us a reprieve, even though we ourselves have created our own chaos.

Parents forget that children don’t come first! Kids plot parents against one another, having learned early on that we allow it. We spend thousands of dollars a year on things our children don’t need, and we invest even more in a college fund to the most prestigious university. Never once do we invest in our relationship with our spouse.

But date night, you say. We have that!

Ahh, yes, the two hours alone, where you’re both too exhausted from work to do much more than lift a heavy fork to your silent mouth. That sounds lovely.

We have removed fathers from the head of the family, and we’ve replaced them with our darling child. They rule the roost. We even joke about it on Facebook. Isn’t it so cute how sassy my little diva is?!

We’ve placed our work above our families. We’ve given it to coaches and teachers to handle. Yet when something falls apart, our spouse will be the one we attack.

We’ve dropped going to church together on Sunday. It’s seriously the only day we can sleep in. Saturday is packed with extracurriculars. We’re too tired to pray together before bed, and we can’t seem to find the time to instruct our children with the Bible. They already have so much homework as it is!

But then we wonder why our children don’t respect us? We wonder why our spouse is so short-tempered.

What about our quiet time with God? Well, it’s been a while. We planned to do that today, but there was too much to do before we left the house. The house with the crazy, high mortgage, that we spend very little time in other than to sleep five hours a night.

We make excuses.

If only my husband would help out more around the house.

If only my wife would try to understand I have needs.

We’ll work this out tomorrow. I’m exhausted tonight.

One silent day leads to another, and leads to another. We find ourselves living together but feeling alone. We raise children together but exist in silence, an invisible space separating us. We make it so easy for Satan to destroy the foundation of marriage. He uses our busyness to keep us from communicating. He uses our selfishness to increase our anger. He uses our coveting and comparison to keep us working harder for more of what we don’t need. He uses our obsession with the educational excellence of our children to keep us away from time with one another. He uses our preoccupation with our cell phones, tablets, and social media accounts to keep us from making God’s Word a part of our everyday lives. He brings sin into our homes slowly, so slowly that we barely recognize it. We’re sure the movies we watch, books we read, or websites we visit in secret aren’t harming our relationships.

But I’m of the belief that we must take back our families from the enemy. We must claim our right to a happy, healthy relationship like God intended. We have to take back our time. We can’t become confused by what the world says is important. We can’t believe the lies the enemy tells us to focus on. We have to stop investing into the world and get back to investing in love. We can’t spend the majority of our life away from our families, but then wonder why they’re falling apart. We have to stop investing so much in the materialistic aspects of our home, yet neglecting the lasting flesh and blood that resides therein. We gotta stop keeping up with the Joneses and start keeping up with God’s will for our families.

God created marriage, and He didn’t just make it so we’d have someone to help us with the dishes. He didn’t create this covenant with arguments over who forgot to buy toilet paper in mind. He didn’t place us together to run ourselves ragged with busy schedules and overwhelming responsibilities. He created marriage to mirror His covenant with us, and on the day we finally become His bride, do you think He’ll be too busy running the angels to soccer practice to sit down at the banquet table with us? Do you think He’ll be too tired to talk or too overwhelmed by His day of miracles to hold us?

And here’s a thought. Our children are watching us. They are creating their idea of marriage based on our example. What type of husband are you modeling for your daughter’s future expectations? What kind of wife are you showing your son to build a life with? Do you know how Satan is stealing our marriages? Through us! We are eagerly breaking down the future foundation of marriage by our poor example, and our complacence and neglect is pushing our own spouse further and further away. It shouldn’t be so.

We have to take back our marriages before it’s too late. We have to reclaim our time so we can invest it where it is needed most. We have to take our eyes off other relationships and focus them in our own backyard. We have to let Dad lead the family. We have to stop competing. We have got to quit going and going! We have to be still! We have to sit quiet and let the ruach blow over our marriages. We’ll never feel it if we’re too busy striving for more. You have to be still to truly feel the wind blow. We have to stop handing the enemy our family on a golden platter. We have to take back what God has given us. We have to open our eyes to the gift of our spouse, just as God made them, and stop trying to make them into someone else. We have to take time to appreciate our partner. We have to trade in our badge of busy for the soothing silk of stillness. Only in simplicity can we truly see how blessed we are.

So I suppose the question is this. God has given us marriage. Will you make the pledge to take it back from the enemy today?

We’re All Defective

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Once I cared for a young man who had survived an overdose attempt. He was young enough to be my son, and as I looked at his handsome face and deep, kind eyes, I did feel an almost motherly affection for him. In fact, after we had gotten comfortable with one another I jokingly addressed him as “son,” and he in turn called me “mom.” It was a good day, that day, and my time with him reminded me of something we can all forget.

We’re all broken. In one way or another.

He had just so happened to hit his rock bottom place. Do you remember yours? Maybe you haven’t hit it yet.

I can recall mine. I was around the same age as him. College. That time where you’re supposed to be grown, and it seems like everyone expects you to have it all figured out. It’s funny to me, an age where an individual has the ability to lay their life on the line for their country, is also an age where so much uncertainty can be. But I’ve found that it’s in those lonely, indeterminate times that God meets us. When our hands are thrown in the air, when we cannot find the answers, at the end of our rope; there He is.

This young man reminded me so much of myself. Sensitive, tearful, soft-spoken, kind. The tears in his eyes felt like my own, and if I could have placed my understanding of life at forty-two into his own fragile state of mind, I probably would have, but I also know that we must all get to that place in our own time. It took me a long time to get there. I still pray now that it won’t take him near as long.

During one of our many, heartfelt conversations he shared his broken spirit, in shaking, emotional words.

He cried, “I’m defective!”

And my heart broke for him. Empathetic, I felt his pain. I had known it myself. I wanted to run to his rescue, to console my son, to encourage him, to tell him how lovely he was.

I wanted to say, “no you’re not!” But something held me back.

How many times had others tried to make me see myself like Jesus saw me? Precious, loved, made new? Until I was ready to see myself like God intended, it was just words. And although it was all true, I was beautiful and made perfect, it wasn’t until I accepted my brokenness that I could allow Jesus to fix me.

So instead I answered him, “yes, you are defective! So am I! So is everyone. It’s called being human. And it’s ok.”

If God had a clubhouse with a sign above the door I am very certain what it wouldn’t say. It wouldn’t read,

No Sinners Allowed

It wouldn’t proclaim,

No Brokenness Can Enter Here

The Lord certainly isn’t the little boy on the school bus in Forest Gump saying, “you can’t sit here!”

No, I like to think that Jesus is more like Jenny, patting the empty seat beside her, a smile even though we’re a little weird, a little different, a little defective.

No, I think if God had a clubhouse, the uneven, wooden slab above the door would read in faded, red paint,

No Perfect People Allowed

It’s only once we’ve accepted His invitation inside that we are made perfect through Him. And even that is a journey.

We’re all broken, you see, in one way or another. Many of us experienced a horrible childhood, some worse than others. Some can move on from the ashes, and others not so much. I do know this; we all need a hand out of our mess. We’re all defective, like my young patient felt, and it’s in that mangled mess that God can save us. It’s in our weakness that His strength emerges, and it’s in our hopeless, helpless, unrecoverable life that He can make all things new.

You know what you can’t see when you’re at the bottom? The top. You know what you can’t see in the midst of misery? The way out. It’s ok. It’s ok because He is the light at the end of the tunnel. He is the hand that pulls us out of our mess.

God doesn’t expect our perfection to come to Him. He just wants our love. He takes care of all the rest. So, while the bad news is that yes, we’re all defective, the good news is that He in turn is our perfector.

What God Would Say to the Woman Who’s Not Enough

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Most of us women, at one time or another, feel as if we’re not enough, like we’re lacking some fundamental trait that will magically transform us into the women we wish to be. Not a patient enough mother, or perhaps you’re a wife who suffers to serve. We desire to be that mighty woman of God, to get it right at least every now and again. A fight with our spouse, or a harsh, thoughtless word screamed in frustration at our children prove to us where we have fallen short once again. If only we could be the kind of friend our girlfriends need, or have the time and energy to volunteer at church. If only we could keep the kitchen clean, laundry basket empty, or keep up with our graying roots like other moms seem to do.

We see our Facebook friends dressing trendy, our Instagram idols redecorating their homes. The lady next door doesn’t have trash falling out of the backseat of her minivan, and the mom of four at church, her kids are always so well behaved! A condescending look at the grocery store, the well-intentioned yet hurtful advice from an older woman at church, and the thoughtless comment from your husband all cement the idea that you need to step it up. You need to change, improve, work on you!

Wash your face, wipe your eyes, and work on you! Make time for yourself, yet cherish time with your children, time that is fleeting, and that you’re constantly reminded passes too quickly. How does that work?!

You’ll miss this, they say, all while taking afternoon naps themselves that you can’t personally enjoy.

So you strive to do better. You endeavor to be a Proverbs 31 woman, even though you feel like a Prozac 24/7 kinda gal. If you feel depressed you must not be godly enough, so back to the drawing board for you. Watch your weight, exercise, pray, repeat. Count backwards from ten, take your vitamins, and drink more water. Go out with your girlfriends, read a book, take time for yourself. Stay attractive for your spouse, serve him in love, and give him the affection you yourself feel like you’re lacking. Be in the mood, even if you’re not. Meal prep, crockpot, freezer meals. Keto, Paleo, Weight Watchers, Hello Fresh. So much advice, yet so little time. I don’t know about you, but I just want to not be tired anymore, and to wake up without a sore neck and back. Also, why am I anxious about nothing at all?!

Being a woman is hard, but working to be the woman you think you should be is even harder. It’s not easy being everything for everyone, yet still feeling like you’re not enough. Not good enough, pretty enough, young enough, thin enough, strong enough, happy enough. You’re not everyone’s cup of tea, sure, but maybe you just want to be the cup you yourself could enjoy. You want to be the mother your children deserve, the wife your husband desires, and the woman God needs you to be. Why is it so hard?!

Well, take a breath and listen. This is what God would say to you today.

Stop! Don’t work on you. Work on knowing me better. Stop striving to be the “mighty woman of God” you think you should be, and instead simply rest in who I have created you to be.

I don’t want you to be like her. I created you to be you. The things you see as flaws, I put those there. I thoughtfully formed your crooked nose and short legs. And even the flaws that the world has harshly placed upon you, I can work with those too. Don’t doubt what I can do.

The world will say you are not enough. Even my other children will tell you that is so. Satan will whisper lies so stealthy you will think they are truth, but I promise you this. You can only find my truth in my Word. If it’s not in the Bible, then it’s not for you to believe.

Stop seeking self-improvement, and instead seek my face. Spend time with me. Pour over my truths in scripture, and let that truth flood your soul. Allow it to take over your thoughts so that when lies from the enemy come, because they will, you can overpower them with who I say you are.

Stop working on being better, and start being better in me. Remember that my strength is in your weakness, that you have been made perfect in me, that I am in you, and you are in me. Together, there is no lack. There is always enough.

You are what I say you are, and you are enough. You can rest in my perfect peace, knowing the plans I have for you, plans for a wonderful future.

Stop fighting battles I have already won. Stop waging war on yourself. I take it personally. I created the stars in the sky, ones you cannot even see, ones that shine so fiercely they are blinding up close, but you are still my most precious creation. Just as you are. Stop trying to alter my design.

Stop planning to do better, and simply follow my path I have laid out for you. You cannot see it for your own anxieties of becoming lost. When you feel lost, go back to my map. Read the words there in red. They tell you the way.

Stop working on being a better you, and focus on residing in me. I am your safe place. I can block out the whispers that say you’re not enough. There’s nothing wrong with desiring to be a better you, except when you begin to think you alone hold the key to change. Only I can change hearts, and only in me will you find the completeness you desire. Stop trying to be everything, and rest in the fact that I already am. In me you have fullness of life. In me, you are already enough.

Looking For Love in All the Wrong Places

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When my biological father gave me up, I wondered what it was about me that made it so easy to let me go.

When my high school boyfriend broke up with me for the other girl, I couldn’t help but wonder what she had that I lacked.

When the first man I ever loved broke my heart, I cried into my pillow, feeling like I would never again find that feeling I had when I was with him.

When I told the cute boyfriend in college, “I love you,” and he thereafter ghosted all my calls, I wondered what made me so easy not to love.

Broken girls become broken women, lacking love, yet seeking it desperately. I always put so much stock in how others felt about me. I was the new kid on the block who just wanted to be your friend, or the quiet girl pining for the cool guy, drawing secret doodles of his name in study hall. A people pleaser by nature, like a loyal pup longing to have its ears scratched while hearing, “yes, you’re a good girl.”

It sounds quite absurd putting it out there like that, but in hindsight I can see the desperation of my past. Like Pavlov’s dogs, I longed for a reward, and my ear was always tuned towards the ringing of the bell. I was eager in my relationships, yet skittish to reach out, if that makes sense. Having learned from an early age that the people you love will definitely leave you, I was hesitant to make new friends, but boy oh boy, did I long for them. I wanted to be wanted, while simultaneously fearing hurt.

I fit into the military like a missing puzzle piece. It was easy to excel when all you had to do was what someone else told you to do.

Yes, sir.

No, sir.

Right away, sir.

Of course, I was top of the class when it came to following commands. Being told exactly what to do is easy; having the courage to step out on your own volition, that’s a bit harder.

As a young woman I felt my body was a weapon, something I could use to my advantage. Like a carrot on a string, dangled to draw attention, but pulled away in hopes a chase would ensue. Sometimes often times not pulled away at all.

In my first marriage I was the doting wife. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, per se, but I know I would have done anything to please him. I would, and sometimes did, forgo the woman I was meant to be in order to become the woman I thought he wanted. My desire to be a good wife was probably crippling to us both. I think sometimes he longed for me to fight back, to argue when I was right, but instead I just said, “I’m sorry.”

I was always sorry. Sorry I wasn’t pretty enough, good enough, desirable enough. Through the long string of failed relationships prior to my first marriage, I had been the same. If I was desired, I felt like I was enough. But if I was rejected, I felt severely lacking. I based my worth on the measurement from others, honestly people who were just as broken as myself. Empty souls longing for something real, something to fill the void.

When my first husband told me he didn’t love me anymore, I felt a pain like no other. In hindsight, I think a wound that started long before was ripped open that night. A never truly-healed trauma that I only added to year after year. He was just fuel on the fire of an already broken heart. He didn’t do the breaking of my heart; he was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

After almost thirty years of seeking love and coming up empty I had hit the bottom of myself. And in that cellar place I sat in the tattered rags of my wrecked life.

I cried out to God. I’m not sure what gave me the courage. After all, I had run from His presence. Though He promised the heart of a Father I had not been shown initially, or the lover I longed for, I had in actuality rejected Him. I had turned my head at His nod of affection, I had ignored His calls time and time again. Why would He want me back? A scorned woman, broken forever, incapable of being loved. Yet…

He answered me. In the pit of my own making, He shined His light. In the desert place I had intentionally wandered into, He gave me living water. He gave me the thing I had always wanted. He loved me regardless. Despite my failures.

He wooed me over time. Sinful man causes a woman to hide within herself, building up a wall to keep the good away. A broken woman thinks she can only have pain. But He was patient with me, calling me softly, closer day by day.

You see, before God could bring me substantial love here on earth, in the arms of another, He had to teach me what love was, or rather what He intended it to be. He had to show me my real self, the one He created, the one He saw when He looked at me. This woman’s worth wasn’t dependent on how others felt about her, but on His opinion of her. This woman learned her worth in Jesus, that her life was worth dying for. Christ taught me how to love myself. And I realized that was independent of any man.

I was once a broken woman, born into poverty, immediately raised in rejection, stacked on top of a sinful world. I grew into a woman broken again and again, allowing the pain others piled on me to melt into my image of self. The cracks were many, at one point loosely held together by nicotine and alcohol, but that is a story for another day. Today, suffice to say, I reckon we’re all broken in one way or another, just some of us more often.

I was a broken woman, looking for love in all the wrong places, blind to the fact that true love had pursued me from day one. I was a broken woman, mended by acceptance, proven worthy by His sacrifice, and healed by His Holy affections.

I am a healed woman, strengthened by His truth, loved beyond measure, no more lacking. I am a woman filled, overflowing with joy, confident in His good grace, blessed by His mercy. I no longer look for love. I have found it. A lasting love that never leaves. And each day forward I strive to pour out that love to everyone I encounter. Because you never know who else you meet that might be broken too.

3 Keys to a Happier Marriage

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I’m always going to call myself a work in progress. I’m far from perfect, but wiser in my walk than I was before. I consider each day to be a new day to learn something new, about myself, about interacting with others, and about strengthening my marriage. My marriage isn’t perfect either, but I have been able to watch it mature into something lovely over the years. It didn’t start out on solid ground, that I can promise you. If it were not for the prompting of the Holy Spirit, it might have crumbled in that newlywed period a decade ago, but through perseverance, prayer, and the knowledge of the Lord, we have cultivated a beautiful covenant that becomes better each and everyday. Here’s a few tips I have found to be so very true in having a happy, healthy relationship.

1. Lower your expectations. In fact, go ahead and drop them all together. Whatever dream person you have created in your head, let them go. This is reality, people. Open your eyes and fix them on Jesus. He’s the only perfect one you’ll ever find.

I discovered pretty early on that my husband and I shared more differences than similarities. Where I was a perfectionist, he was content with getting by. Where I was a planner, he was a procrastinator. Where I was motivated, he was blasé. Where I completed a task once I got started, he was fine with letting it fall away. It was exasperating.

But then I discovered something more. Where I often held unrealistic expectations for life, he was more able to go with the flow that is the reality of a tumultuous world. Where I had to have my ducks in a row, he was more open to change and going off course to achieve the same goal. Where I was overly dedicated to a task of my own making, he was open to the plans God put before us. Where I became almost obsessed with seeing a project to completion, he was more able to open his hands in surrender to allow Jesus to take it away.

I like to take pictures. He doesn’t. Lol.

I discovered we were a pretty good team. It was like it was a God-ordained union, something I had always known, but didn’t realize the details of until it was before me. You see, a huge cause of discontent in marriage is failed expectations. We have a certain idea in mind of how our spouse must be. When they inevitably fail to meet those expectations we become angry and disillusioned. We seldom stop and understand that they were made a specific way by God, and that if we believe God to be the director of our lives, then we must trust that He put two distinctive personalities together for a reason, for a purpose. Remember, the plans of man always fail; it’s God who directs our steps.

So, drop who you think your spouse should be, celebrate who they are, and most importantly, pray that they will become who God has them to be (not who you have them to be).

2. Remove your plank. I know I’m stepping on some toes now. Another big cause of marital strife comes in the form of our own judgement and self-centeredness. This is a hard pill to swallow, but truth usually is. The problem with the human condition is sin, imperfection, and blindness. No, I don’t mean physical blindness, but rather a spiritual one. Our expectations for ourselves are never as high as the expectations we place on others. Because only God knows our every thought and desire, only He can always do what’s right by us. Only He will never hurt us. Now understand, our sin may hurt us, and God may allow that, but He will never hurt us. If you’ve been around people for longer than five minutes then you know that’s not true of us.

In marriage (and all relationships for that matter), you will get your feelings hurt. The person won’t say the right thing, do the right thing, or always act in the right manner. You will be left hurt, wounded, and let down, which typically leads to anger. After all, it’s easier to get mad than stew in hurt feelings.

“He never helps me!”

“She never wants to have sex anymore.”

“Does he ever hear a word I say?!”

“Why does she keep nagging me?!”

“What’s her problem?”

“What did I do this time?!”

A relationship can become a blame game, pointing fingers and keeping score. Who’s done more for the marriage? Who says I’m sorry first? How long until they disappoint me again? I’ll enlist the silent treatment; let’s see who breaks the silence and speaks first.

“I wonder how long he’ll leave his dirty laundry at the foot of the bed?”

“I wonder how long she’ll leave that curling iron on the sink?”

“I work all day at my job!”

“I work all day at this house, with the children!”

It becomes a competition of who does more, who does less, and who can see the contribution you’re putting out there. We become so blinded by what we’re giving out that we miss what our partner is supplying. We become so focused on where we’re taken advantage of that we totally miss our own selfish attitude.

Who’s the most selfish person in the relationship?

It’s the one who’s breathing. It’s him, it’s her, it’s you, it’s me. We’re all selfish. That’s the easy part of marriage. The hard part is moving past selfishness and working towards servanthood. Serve your spouse; don’t spend your time wondering how they can serve you.

Before you become angry, fed up, or burned out with your partner, consider how you might better improve yourself. What can you do to cultivate the relationship? What plank exists in your own eye while you’re distracted with the sawdust they left on the floor?

From personal experience, you get back what you put in. Your reward is dependent on how you run the race. Your harvest is based on what you’re planting and feeding into the soil. Just like your banking account, the deposits have to exceed the withdrawals, otherwise you’re bankrupt. Invest to see a future profit.

3. Learn what love is. A majority of marriages that end in divorce are because of a lack of love. They start with what they think is love, but it’s not. A lot of the time what we assume is love is really addiction. Hang with me, now.

We are addicted to feeling good. We need to feel appreciated, taken care of, desired, found attractive. We thrive on compliments, we feel best when we are needed. It gives us a sense of purpose to take care of someone, and it gives us a sense of peace to have someone take care of us. And while yes, I believe God created marriage with a partnership in mind, we confuse love with performance. We convolute love with just emotion. So when we are hurt, our love takes a hit. We base our ability to love someone on how they love us back. We base our continued love for someone on how it feels at the moment. We take back love when ours isn’t reciprocated.

If you find yourself doing any of the above in your own relationship, don’t beat yourself up too bad. You’re in good company. It’s called being human. We eat food based on what tastes good. And we stay committed to someone based on the continued performance of our spouse. We’re basically grading our marriage, and we are using a pass or fail sliding scale.

I love ice cream because it’s delicious. Especially chocolate chip! I love my husband, but he isn’t always pleasing to my palate. Sometimes he’s downright bitter.

If we desire a happier marriage we have to enlist a bit of Christ-like behavior. We have to try and love more like Jesus does. We have to understand and discover that real, unbreakable love isn’t based on what we can get out of it. Real, unconditional love is the kind that dies for you even when you hate it. It’s the kind that forgives you even when you are the weapon of that death. It’s the kind of love that loves the unlovable, that loves even when it gets nothing in return.

I’m not asking you to be crucified like a martyr for your marriage, but I do think you’ll grasp a taste of the divine when you can try and sample what He placed before us as an example of love. We are the bride of Christ, and the love He’s laying down, can’t nobody model, but it comes back to that thing I mentioned in the first paragraph. Work in progress. We’re all working towards that perfection we can achieve through Him. Does that mean a perfect marriage? No. But it does mean a happier, healthier one if we can try a little harder to understand that real love He modeled.

When you walk in that kind of love for your spouse, you love them even when they say something thoughtless. You forgive them when they fail you. You love them when you’re not feeling like it, and you love them even when they have nothing to give in return. That is love.

We love Christ because He first loved us (1 John 4:19), and true, long-standing love is achieved through giving of yourself without expectation of what you’ll get in return.

We can’t place too much expectation on our marriage. The only perfect marriage is between Jesus and the Church. To love your spouse is to mean that even when they don’t meet that high expectation, we still love. We love like Christ, because He first loved us. I found that by modeling that kind of love towards my husband, he in turn loved me the same.

My husband and I only expect perfection in Jesus, and our true joy and contentment cannot be found in one another. They can only be found in Him. We have found happiness in remembering that on a day-to-day basis. We model His love to one another, but we also understand that kind of love can only truly be found in Him.

What Christians Need Most

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As I left work last night I marveled at the pink and lavender sky as the sun began its descent along the horizon. It had been a pretty good day. I mean, it had been a long day. Thirteen hours on your feet never felt short, and looking at a step-counter on my phone, I had walked a few miles to boot. The patients had been challenging, and I felt a dull throb in my lower back from lifting, pulling, and holding two times my body weight every two hours throughout the day. But still, it had been a pretty good day.

“Thank you for a good day, Lord,” I spoke out loud.

I smiled. Despite the full, long day, despite the weariness around the edges, I felt good. I felt joy. There was a difference between happiness and joy. Happiness was dependent on your situation. The day before I had been very happy while I floated in the pool, but as I made the drive home, feet tired and brain frazzled, I felt that river of contentment flowing through my being.

What made life like this? I wondered.

And just as quickly I thought, the fruit of the spirit.

It seemed to permeate most of my day. It had changed how I interacted with coworkers, patients, a stranger in line at the store, my spouse, and everyone in between. It had changed me. I had not always been so patient or even so kind. I had not always been loving, and I certainly wasn’t the epitome of self control. Even now, I am the furthest from perfect as anyone can be, but I have seen myself grow over the past few years. And because of such, my life has improved dramatically.

I know why, and I saw something run across the news lately that especially brought this to the forefront of my mind. One huge decision I had made in my life had flipped it upside down, which honestly meant it was right side up. Isn’t it funny how what the world tells us is correct, nine times out of ten, that’s just not true? I discovered real truth is only found in one place, but I’m astounded by how many don’t even consider it as important. I mean, they know it is, but knowing and doing are two different things entirely.

The national news story that I came across happened to have occurred less than fifteen minutes from the town I grew up in, and though I no longer lived there, it made me sad to see such horrible happenings become attached to my hometown. It was disappointing but not all together surprising. I had been raised there, after all, and I could recall hearing the same thing from some people in the small, Southern Baptist church that I had entered my teenage years attending, but had never returned to after college.

It seems that a woman was caught on video denying wedding services to another woman because the couple to be wed were an interracial couple. You can catch details of the story here, but to sum it up the owner of the establishment stated they were denying their services due to their “Christian” beliefs that interracial marriage was a sin. In other words, she was implying God was against mixing races, and was quoted as saying she “wasn’t going to argue her beliefs.”

I must say I was pleased with the majority response from friends in the area. They were appalled by the situation, and some very strong worded about it. A few others offered grace, and it was through such a source that I saw a personal response on the owner’s Facebook page a few days later. I have to give the woman applause for admitting she was wrong, and while I in no way condone or approve of her opinion, I do think it was very good for her to publicly admit her fault.

In her public apology she confessed that she had always assumed this particular instance (interracial relationships) to be mentioned in scripture, but at her husband’s prodding she had found it was not. After studying her Bible and seeking Godly counsel from her pastor, she realized her long-held “belief” was strictly passed down intolerance. Nowhere in the Bible did it claim this to be a sin, but since she had been raised by other humans to believe it was, that became her truth.

And that’s where our problems lies, ladies and gentleman. We are a generation of busy Christians, Christians much too hurried to have time for the Bible. We assume Sunday is enough, flipping rapidly through whatever verse the preacher reads out loud, forgetting that the man on the pulpit is also just a man. We forget that we must glean the scriptures ourselves for God’s truth, that per His instruction we must meditate on it day and night.

What happens instead is that we start accepting the world’s truth as God’s truth. We think success is found through possessions, that healing just through the hospital. We lose sight of who God is, that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. So we assume miracles are something from Old Testament Times, and that now it’s up to us to make our own way.

What happens is we push people away from Jesus. We’re so busy relying on man-made and mankind adapted rules and religious, pharisaical dos and don’ts that we lose sight of truth. We forget the greatest command of them all because we aren’t daily submerged in God’s Word! We remember how to play church, but we forget how to love!

What happens is we become depressed and anxious. We worry about things we can’t control. We look at man to save us! Bail me out of this jam, loan man. We stay up all night long trying to figure out how to solve our dilemmas. Meanwhile God is just waiting for us to ask. Maybe we get overweight or we develop a problem with drinking, gambling, pornography. We’re just so lonely, empty, and hopeless, and we search all over for something to fill the vacant places. Never once do we crack the Bible to find the answers there.

Hard day at work? Let’s go get a drink! That’ll fix it. Smh. Hey, I’ve been there. No judgment here. All I know, from personal experience, is that the next morning my head hurt and my problem still existed. It wasn’t until I read the Bible and learned how to view my job that work no longer sucked. Just being honest.

See, what happens is we think babies in the womb aren’t a life until they get on the outside, like maybe a hotdog in the package isn’t food until we finish cooking it on the grill and throw it in a bun. Hey, my three year old holding a cold wiener straight from the pack may disagree, but I’ve heard crazier things.

I’ve heard that you can fill your mind with horrific images via movies or your music, without any consequences to your spirit. I’ve heard you can ask for good vibes on Facebook while consulting your psychic and get your grandma to pray to Jesus for you all at the same time. You really want to cover all the bases for best results. It’s okay to lie if no one finds out, and cussing out someone on the freeway is fine and dandy. Oh, and you don’t really have to give 10% in the offering plate anymore if you need the money for something else. I mean, who do you think provides for us? Us, of course!

So what happens is we end up thinking we don’t need God everyday. We drift along happily with our fancy life, planning our parties and running up our credit card bills for more stuff we don’t need. But then when our child gets really sick we cry out to Jesus.

Oh, Jesus, why won’t you answer me?!

Give Him a minute. Maybe He’s trying to place your voice. After all, He hasn’t heard it in six months.

What happens is we believe lies from Satan. We don’t think they’re from Satan. We don’t even really think about him. He’s mentioned somewhere in the Bible, but the preacher only mentions the devil when he talks about Hell, and you’re not going there. You’re saved by the blood of Jesus. You’re a Christian. Your youth leader told you so! What happens is we become Christian only in title; we lose sight of living like one. We forget that to be a Christian is to be a follower of Christ, and to follow the ways of Jesus you have to read what He said, what He did, what He sacrificed for you. You have to be brought to literal tears when you read how much He gave so that you could live! But instead we spend our time binging Netflix and crying over our latest romance novel.

You know what? I love me some Netflix. I won’t deny it. But nothing comes before the truth. Nothing.

To walk in freedom, to bear the fruits of the spirit, and to lead a joyful, hopeful, wonderful life that is lacking no thing we must read the Bible! I know, I know. I too used to think that was just something people said. You think that praying is enough, that going to church on Sunday is enough, that wearing shirts with scripture on them is enough, that hanging out with other Christians is enough, that growing your hair long or being submerged in water just in itself is enough, that wearing a cross around your neck and flying the flag of Israel in your yard is enough (yeah, I saw the flag hanging next to it that evokes feelings of division and hate, but that’s a blog for another day). The point is, none of it is enough, and because this stuff can take the place of God’s Word in your life, it’s actually a lie straight from Hell. Your “salvation” is really your veil that covers your eyes, and it’s the stumbling block that makes others fall. Only in Spirit and Truth will we find the wholeness that God can provide. Listen, I’m not saying you’re going to Hell if you never read your Bible. There’s only one judge up in here. But I am saying that if you want to live a full, free, joyful life then you have to dig deeper. You have to read God’s Word.

How do I know this? I mean, besides scripture saying it’s so? I see it in my life. Over the past eight years I have been on a journey of growth with the Lord, and the biggest breakthrough began to occur when I submerged myself in the scriptures. I began to crave more of Him, and it filled me to read His Word. Over time the words of truth bled into my life and they transformed me. How I viewed myself, how I viewed others, and how I viewed the world all changed. I began to see everything through the eyes of Christ. But it wasn’t just that.

I found joy. True, lasting joy. I got rid of fear once and for all. I kicked anxiety to the curb. I learned how Jesus could help me deal with my depression. Of note, because I see feathers ruffling already, I take a medication to help with hormonal mood swings and depression. I am a nurse, after all, and I do believe God gave us the brains to develop healthcare, but I also know my Healer works in me in conjunction.

I’ve found my life is more fulfilling, my marriage is happier. Like, I fall in love with my husband more and more each day. Of note, he reads the Bible everyday also. We do it together. God’s truth carries our marriage to places it could never go without Him. Our marriage is so successful because of Jesus, and knowing the Bible helps us know how to treat one another as Christ would.

Y’all, I could go on and on about how God’s Word fed into my life has changed everything for the better, but I know you don’t have all day. I don’t want you reading this much longer anyway. I want you reading your Bible!

The point is, you can belief what your family has always said, what your friends say, and what the world deceives you into believing. You can do this, still find salvation, but have a rough road until Jesus returns. Or… you can read His instruction manual now (because He told us in there what to do until He returns), and find some joy and contentment here on earth. Am I saying life is perfect if you read your Bible? Heck, no. But it sure is a lot easier with truth on your side. Plus, the side effects are phenomenal.

Can Christians Get Offended?

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I can remember when I first started travel nursing that the first thing people noticed about me was my thick, Southern drawl. Heck, even now it’s the way people will differentiate me from others. If I’m not known as the “singing nurse,” then I’m described as the one with a Southern accent. I’ve been called Reba, and if I had a dollar for every person that tried to do an impression of my country twang I could have retired last week.

Yeah, people are not as good at impersonations as they assume, but I’m sure many a Brit would raise an eyebrow at my Monty Python impressions, so I can’t say a word. The thing is, though, if I’m being totally honest, it’s not near as amusing as people assume. Repeating a word I’ve said in your own impression of my pronunciation as you laugh hysterically isn’t funny to me. In fact, it’s eye roll worthy as I fake laugh along. But even now, as I bristle at the harmless prodding at my expense, I don’t react like I used to.

I used to be terribly offended. See, I was born in San Diego, California by a world-traveling mom, and we only moved to Mississippi to settle down when I was about eight. I could have quickly adapted the accent of my local peers, but a part was always held back by my mother’s suggestion. She raised me to enunciate my words, to use a vast vocabulary, and to make a point to sound as educated as possible. She fought hard to ward off her own Southern drawl as it crept into everyday vernacular, as her experience had impressed one, huge thing upon her.

A Southern accent=stupidity

That was the majority assumption, anyway.

This was what she had experienced. It was what traveling the world had taught her. And as such, she raised me to understand the same. When I began my own world travels so many of the things I encountered nailed home her point. In Naval Bootcamp I achieved the highest scholastic scores among my peers, earning my parents a special seat next to the Chief Officer of the base during my graduation, and allowing me to march at that ceremony in a special company. As we practiced the drill we would execute at our graduation a senior enlisted gentleman commented on my upbringing.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Mississippi, Petty Officer,” I replied quickly.

“Well,” he commented in surprise and sarcasm, “I didn’t know they made smart people in Mississippi.”

While I served in the Navy in the Washington, D.C. area I was on the receiving end of reverse racism, with people assuming that since I was from the South, I was automatically a bigot. My mother had hated this aspect the most. She had told me once that people saw movies like Mississippi Burning, and they assumed everyone from that area wanted to wear white hoods and hang black people. In my experience, I even had someone report me to my boss. I had been singing a country love song that came into my head about a man who committed suicide when his girlfriend left him (hey, I didn’t say country songs were known for their great lyrics). The guy in the song hung himself in grief, and the secretary who heard me singing reported to our superior that she feared for her life when she was around me. Because of the accent, where I was from, she assumed my song was something about hanging black people, even though the lyrics never said something even close to that.

This is turning out to be a bit longer than I intended, but I guess I want you to understand why it offended me so much when people poked fun at my Southern accent. In a way, I felt discriminated against for my accent. In my experience, people assumed I was ignorant, racist, uneducated, and the like. My upbringing and my own negative experiences had caused me to be easily offended when my accent was brought to the forefront. I think we all have really good reasons we get offended about things.

As a nurse I’ve gotten offended when a patient is rude. I mean, do they know the responsibilities I handle with limited time and resources? Why are they being angry at me? It’s not my fault they’re sick! I’m just here to help! I don’t deserve such anger aimed at me like an arrow for trying to help!

As a customer I’ve gotten offended. They’re here to serve me. What’s with the attitude?! They must hate their job!

I get offended on the interstate when people cut me off in traffic. I’m going five miles above the speed limit here, buddy!

I can get offended when my husband doesn’t read my mind like a good spouse is supposed to. Doesn’t he know I don’t really mean I’m fine?!

I can especially get offended when people don’t agree with me. As a writer I put out a lot of opinion posts, and not everyone agrees. I’ve had people say some pretty heinous things to me via comments or email. I’ve had people tell me that they feel sorry for my children being raised by me, such an awful person. I’m leaving out the graphic language, mind you. Sometimes I’m so certain that what I’m speaking is truth; I’d bet my life on it! Yet people disagree, and they tell me so quite strongly.

I’ve had close friends and family say or do despicable things to me that have hurt me so badly. I mean, when someone cuts you to the bone, isn’t that a legitimate cause of offense?

See, I’m not saying I don’t have reason to be offended. I’m not saying you don’t. Can Christians be offended? Of course they can! I suppose the better question would be… should they get offended?

Matthew 5:38-40

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’[a] 39 But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. 40 And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.

An interesting thing happened as I began to dive deeper into my walk with Jesus. As I began to read God’s Word more and more, I found myself taking on the pages. I mean, I began to act more like scriptures said I should. It wasn’t like I was trying to follow some religious teaching or law. It’s just that the more time I spent reading about Jesus, the more I loved Him. And the more I loved Him, the more I wanted to be like Him. I wanted to see with His eyes and love with His heart. I wanted to be a servant, not selfish. I wanted to encourage people, and help them to see their worth in Christ.

When a patient was undeservingly rude to me, I laid down offense, and instead I asked myself to imagine how hard it must be to be the sick person in that bed. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t my fault, or even if it was theirs. It didn’t matter that I was trying to help, or that I didn’t deserve a cussing. Why would it?

See, we get offended a lot because of bad treatment we don’t deserve. Check. I get it. It’s offensive. Jesus didn’t deserve to be crucified. Remember what He said?

“They know not what they do.”

As a follower of Christ I realized the best way I could show His love (a commandment He gave me, by the way) was to love like Him.

When people hurt my feelings, I laid down offense. Instead of thinking of my own hurt, I wondered what hurt they must be under to make them act that way.

When someone cut me off in traffic or a cashier was rude, I offered grace. I smile really big at them!

When my husband doesn’t read my feelings I remind myself that we are different.

When people don’t agree with me, I remind myself that everyone won’t. That doesn’t change my eternity.

And speaking of eternity? Have you ever stopped and realized that 99% of the things that offend us actually have no eternal impact? But, how we respond to the people who offend us, well, that can have an eternal consequence. We may push people away when they offend us, but we shouldn’t push them away from Jesus. If someone stumbles because of me, well, I don’t even want to think about it.

I am who God says I am. Thirty-four years ago, in His great wisdom, God placed me and my mom in Mississippi. He orchestrated my mom meeting my adoptive dad, and my subsequent adoption, the one that would positively impact my opinion of fathers and my life. God placed me in the South, and God loves my Southern drawl. After I laid down my offense I realized that most people love my accent as well. They weren’t all making fun of me or judging my intellect. My offense told me that, but it wasn’t true. I’ve discovered that my patients love the soothing sound of my slow, Southern drawl. It puts their souls at ease in a harried, uncertain environment. It implies caring and it easily earns trust. I cherish my accent, and I’ve found lately that in difficult situations at the bedside, like when I must break bad news, I draw out my syllables a little longer, and I dredge them in sugar a bit more. The patients like that.

I’ve learned that although many times I have every right to be offended, and that God won’t love me any less because I am, I am better able to fulfill my calling when I let go of offense. When I can turn the other cheek I am actually showing the face of Jesus. When I take off the red rage that veils my eyes under my own offense, I am better able to see where and who needs love most.

Will every situation we encounter require us to lay down our offense? No. I’m not saying to let yourself be filleted open for the masses. But I am saying that when we can let go of ourselves and see other’s pain, Jesus smiles. When we can love someone despite their hurting our feelings, they’ll see Jesus in us. When He calls us to lay down our life for a brother, He even means the ones who disagree with us. We can lay down offense, and we can pick up love in its place.