Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

How to Hear the Voice of God Better

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Do you remember the Kevin Costner film from 1989 titled Field of Dreams? In the movie (based on a novel) an Iowa corn farmer is walking through his field when he sees a vision of a baseball field and hears a voice say, “build it and he will come.” Although everyone thinks he’s crazy, he is so certain that he’s supposed to build a baseball field in his cornfield so Shoeless Joe Jackson can come play there, that despite public opinion he plows down his corn and steps out in this unconventional calling. I won’t ruin the plot for you if you haven’t seen it, but let’s just say that his commitment to carry forth the word he’s given does more for his personal life and spiritual growth than something as simple as a baseball legend coming to visit.

The words uttered in that film, “build it and he will come,” resounded with me deeply when I recalled them yesterday and not because I loved that old movie so much, but rather due to the spiritual significance they spoke.

If we build it, He will come.

Our bodies are a temple for the Holy Spirit, and as such, when we consecrate that space for Him, He is faithful to meet us there. The problem with our temples is they become too crowded for His Spirit to comfortably reside there. Our minds are filled with worries, and our hearts filled with anxiety. We harbor guilt, anger, and unforgiveness on the shelves of our mind. We spend our time on television, social media, or our busy schedule more than we do laying a good foundation in our spirit. Hey, I’m guilty too, but if you desire to hear more from the Lord, I’ve found you must close out the distraction and noise of this world to be able to listen. His voice is a whisper.

  

I’ve taken to practicing a daily unloading of the world. Usually first thing in the morning while in the shower I will quiet my heart and mind, close my eyes, and picture that I am standing at the foot of a throne. In the highest seat is Jesus, and I mentally and emotionally unload my burdens. I pray in surrender and tell the Lord something like, “today I give you all my anxiety, worries, and uncertainty. I exchange them for your Spirit and peace.”

I’ve noticed a tremendous upswing in my day with this simple practice of surrender. In it, I am acknowledging His supreme power in my life. I’m admitting I cannot do it alone. Many times I will imagine myself walking in a field with Jesus, simply spending carefree time with my Savior. I will pray out loud something like, “thank you that I am in you, and you are in me, and we are one with the Father, seated in Heavenly places.” By repeating these powerful words of truth I am acknowledging scripture, believing that the troubles of this world mean little compared to His power, His kingdom, and His plans for me.

When we can pray, listen, and read the Word, the Lord will speak to our hearts. He will impart His plans, His knowledge, and His heart, but I’ve found the key to hearing that still, small voice is pushing out the noise that distracts us. And when I say noise, I don’t just mean the television or screaming children. I’m referring to the noise in our heads, the to-do lists, or the lies from the enemy that say how we perform in life is more important than who God made us to be. The lies that compare us to others, or worry about the opinion of others versus who God says we are. To hear from the Lord is to lay down your life, meaning you would give up anything and everything, including and foremost the things of this world.

There is no room in our bodies, hearts, and minds for anything other than God, but we continue to fill the spaces with it. The thing is, those things don’t satisfy, they just leak out leaving us feeling empty. If we build it, though, He will come. If we empty our houses, clean them of the things not of God, and open the doors in anticipation of His Spirit, He will come and make His home in us. And much like our friend Kevin Costner learned, He will bring us much greater things than we ever imagined.

Is There a Thorn in Your Flesh?

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I’m going to be very transparent here. Naturally, that’s the only way I know to be. See, the past couple of months have been, not that great. In fact, at moments over the past month, they’ve been just plain awful. So many people look upon the things I write and perhaps assume my life is a Mary Poppins, practically perfect journey, but they would be mistaken. Even joy-filled women, victorious in Christ, suffer. I have been in a time of suffering, in the valley of the shadow of death, in a season of mourning. The worst part? I couldn’t pinpoint the reason for my grief.

Over the past couple of months I’ve found my mood declining, and the reason not easily discovered. I blamed some of it on the dreaded hormones. Since turning forty my body had begun a cruel roller coaster ride of emotional surges, and despite a couple of different medicines prescribed by my doctor to try and level things out, it had continued its ups and downs. Forgive the TMI, but I had actually been on my menstral cycle for five weeks straight recently. It was at that point I felt like I hit a rock bottom of my emotional well.

I know the mental and emotional discomfort I have been under has been the same for many people. Isolation, financial loss, and sickness have spanned the globe. As a nurse I’ve experienced the harsh work of dealing with a pandemic and the pain of being helpless to save the many lives we’ve lost. As a mother I’ve experienced the challenges of keeping children at home for extended periods, and as a working mom I’ve tried to maneuver through my daughters’ worry over me working in such close proximity to a sometimes deadly virus. I guess I say all that to get across that a downtrodden mood isn’t exactly unexpected, but that somehow doesn’t make it feel any better.

As a Christian I know I’m not immune to anxiety and depression, but I’d be lying if I said it didn’t bother me that it’s hit me so hard lately. You see, I know that this world is not my home. I understand that Jesus is in me, and I am in Him, and we are seated with the Father in Heavenly places. Just recently as I prayed for His help I saw a vision of Jesus and me walking together in a field of grain. There was such peace in that moment. And I suppose knowing that this world is temporal and finite still couldn’t seem to remove me from the grip of hopelessness that tried to take me. That bothered me.

I was praying about it one day and Paul came to my mind.

1 Corinthians 12:7-10 Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. 8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

I didn’t know if depression was Paul’s thorn, but it certainly seemed to be mine. I know that many mornings recently I would wake up feeling so sad. My life is amazing, my family is wonderful, and on an off day of relaxing I certainly had no reason for a feeling of hopelessness. All I knew was that in those feelings I had to be extremely intentional to remove myself from them. Or rather, I knew I couldn’t extract myself, but I knew who could. And in those feelings of melancholy I would seek the Lord in earnest. In fact, I have never sought Him so hard as I have since April. I have never experienced the Holy Spirit so strongly as I have this year. So while 2020 has been terrible, it’s also been a blessing. In the mess I’ve discovered Jesus more deeply. In feelings of helplessness I’ve found my hope can only be in Him. I mean, this world sure ain’t helping.

The Lord has been speaking so much to us personally, and we are on the edge of a major stepping out. As we prepare to move forward in what God has for us, we have felt the resistance from the enemy. My husband, a man who has never been prone to depression, has also recently experienced the downtrodden mood that has no physical cause. We’ve been partaking in communion in our home, and that helped tremendously. The girls have been experiencing headaches, tummy aches, and trouble falling asleep the past few weeks, and this too isn’t normal. We recognize the attacks we are under, and again it has us clinging all the more closely to Jesus. But please, if you think of it, cover us with prayer frequently.

I don’t know what the future holds, but I do know who holds it. I do know who holds me, who holds my family. I do know that when feelings of hopelessness come, they are a lie, and I know where my hope is found. I suppose the past few months have been an exercise in this battle for truth, and thankfully I do not fight this battle alone. For now, my thorn remains, but like Paul, I can delight in a weakness that causes me to more desperately draw from His strength.

Something I Learned When My Daughter Got Sick

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I am naive when it comes to dealing with sick children. Sure, I’m a nurse, but I haven’t dealt with pediatrics since a Nursing Clinical in 2002. Yet even if I was used to working with sick kids, I don’t think it would have had any bearing on this issue, because the sick kid ended up being my own.

It’s easier not to worry about the worse case scenario when the child belongs to someone else, but when they’re your child, it changes everything. I’m thankful Jesus took the wheel for me yesterday when my nine year old began having an unexpected seizure. That’s the only explanation I have for not totally freaking out. I mean, they tell me at work that I’m totally calm in the face of chaos and everyone loves my extra chill demeanor when crap goes down, but this was totally different. It was different because the patient was my baby. My children have never been sick, hospitalized, or on any kind of medicine other than a week long antibiotic, so this was new for me.

I realize that the Lord often utilizes trying situations to draw people closer to Him. I mean, I’ve seen it time and time again, when calamity strikes, folks hit their knees. When tragedy falls, people finally look up. In the face of an uncontrollable situation, that is when God’s children usually cry out in earnest petition and pleading prayer. Even in my own past, I can think of a terrible situation leading me back to Jesus. I had fallen away from listening to the Lord, and it wasn’t until I was faced with an unexpected divorce that I cried out in surrender for His help. I had not heard His voice in my life in many years, but at that (my) lowest point I did. In retrospect, I realize I simply wasn’t listening very well until then.

This morning when I woke up in the hospital bed, cuddled up to my little girl, I found worried thoughts had returned. I had naturally experienced them the day before in the ambulance, the Emergency Room, and later hospital room as we waited for answers. Yet each time worries came, I was able to combat them with truth. This morning I wondered about why they had not done a scan of her head. My medical mind told me it was because the chance of it being anything other than a genetic cause was slim, and that made a CT not necessary. But my human heart worried for things like tumors or the dreaded ‘C’ word which I had to push from my mind.

As I sat up drinking coffee and thinking in the quiet, dim hospital room, I realized I was grateful for that auto pilot I had mentioned earlier. My husband and I agreed we had both been moved through the day before by the Spirit, and I knew it was Spirit and Truth that helped me answer the hard questions with wisdom that my young, confused daughter asked of me.

I had several times in my stress yesterday where I wanted to pull out my Bible and read God’s Word. Several times where I wanted to seek His wisdom through prayer. But there was always something going on, people coming in, tests being done, my daughter needing my assistance. By the time we finally settled down for the night my eyes were seeing double, and even though I cracked my Bible open to Zechariah and then John, I could barely focus on the words.

This morning I was grateful that I didn’t wait until personal illness struck my family to seek Him. It’s hard to seek Jesus in the middle of a storm. But for me, I found that I could feel Him in the midst of the tumultuous waves and thundering roar. The fiery trial attempted to consume me when I watched my baby convulse, and later when I tried to help console her steady tears. Yet I could see Jesus in the fire with me, just like the people who looked down in the fiery furnace where three Hebrew men were tossed saw Him.

When she asked me tough questions, God spoke wisdom and truth to me through His Word that popped up in my mind. When I felt worried, His Spirit soothed me. When I wanted to be angry (and say things I’d regret) for hospital policy that said my husband couldn’t be in the room with us, the Fruit of the Spirit prevailed. When my emotions were more than I could handle, His comfort covered me like a blanket. Faith prevailed, fear was abolished, and I saw my daughter also miraculously change from being scared to pieces to speaking the most mature knowledge and spirit-led prayers. We didn’t have to seek Him for truth, comfort, and wisdom in the midst of our situation. We simply walked in what we already knew and held in our hearts, and I can’t explain how much of a blessing it was to have this occur!

I would encourage anyone reading this post right now to understand that you don’t need to wait until a struggle occurs to ask the Lord to get you through it. I think that would be really hard. Much harder than it has to be. I would encourage you to seek Him in the calm. Seek Him in the ordinary, in the seemingly perfect. Don’t wait to seek Him when things fall apart; seek Him now. I read the Bible every day, and I didn’t always do this. I was almost forty years old before I began to daily saturate myself with scripture. So, please understand I don’t come to you from some “perfect Christian” place. There’s no such thing! I simply wish to impart what I have learned.

By taking in God’s Word daily, praying continuously, and thereby investing in my relationship with Him, I was more able to deal with stress and uncertainty when it came my way. I was grateful for the scripture that flooded my thoughts. It soothed me. I was grateful for the prayers of so many saints, but I was also thankful that I didn’t feel dependent on their prayers. I knew my Father heard me. He’s used to my voice. We slipped easily into conversation when I needed His voice the most. This doesn’t happen overnight, but rather through persistent time with Him. You never know when tragedy will strike, but when it does, you will want an open, easily accessible, and comfortable line of communication with Christ. For me, I found I was at the end of myself. I could barely find the way to walk upright, much less hear the whisper of a voice if I did not know what to listen for. My gift through all of this was my connection to Jesus.

I am thankful for the hospital, the fine doctors and nurses, and modern medicine. I’m thankful for our wonderful family and friends. I’m abundantly thankful for my strong husband. But above all, I’m thankful for Jesus. He held this momma up, so I was able to hold my baby up. If I learned anything through this illness of epilepsy so far, it is how blessed I am to have someone walking through the fire with me. I depend on the presence of my wonderful spouse so much, but yesterday a fever kept him from being able to be with us. Yet even in Ben’s absence, I had a solid rock to stand on. I had a tower of refuge and strength, and that Spirit helped me help my child. I watched that same Spirit transform her mind. I am grateful that in a difficult situation, when seeking the Lord would have been hard, I did not have to look far for Him. I only had to look for Him in me.

We All Need It

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Nothing like a big ole dose of humility shoved in your face to choke down the ego. Sure enough, like milk squirting out of my nose, I had made a mess of myself, a reminder that I was so much of a work in progress, that it wasn’t even funny.

It had started out good enough, I suppose. I had felt myself feeling constricted by time as I drove alone to the grocery store. I always went to the grocery store solo lately. I would rush through the aisles quickly and uncomfortably, with a ripple of unintentional nervousness running below the surface. I would wear a hot covering over my face in the 92 degree, sunny weather of Florida, and I would hope for things like paper towels and toilet paper. But even though grocery shopping had changed, that wasn’t what was making me feel harried, not all of it, at least.

I looked at the clock. I had one hour. I calculated the trip there, the trip back, and guesstimated how much time I’d allow myself to sprint through the aisles. The pool opened at 2pm, and it was 1:03. I’d have to hurry.

See, this had never been a thing before, but like most things we took for granted (like breathing easily and being ok with running out of hand sanitizer), the new pool rules were just another straw on the haggard camel’s back of new regulations status post the corona virus.

Look, I’m a nurse, so I totally got it. I supported it, in fact. I had championed flattening the curve, and I still voted yes on wearing face masks in public. I understood the “why” of the way things were, but that didn’t mean I hated them any less than the next guy. I hated that I couldn’t go to the pool when I wanted. I hated that there were now set blocks, in two hour increments, complete with a maximum number of allowed people at one time. But mostly, I hated being in a hurry. I hated feeling like I needed to rush. I had spent the past few years building a slow, relaxing life, and I hated that the past few months had upset my balance. I did not feel chill.

But more than I hated the inconvenience, I hated feeling anything but peace. So, I centered myself in Jesus. I said, “Brie, you will not feel angry or rushed today.”

Then I drove slowly over the speed bumps out of my neighborhood, quite content with my amazing knack for being so cool, calm, and collected, even when things weren’t going my way. I even told myself, “so what, if you don’t get to go to the pool. It’s just one day of swimming.”

Yes, that sounded good.

So, I did my shopping, even though I couldn’t slowly peruse that amazing aisle of stuff you never knew you needed at Aldi (and that was really annoying). A lady sat parked by the rubber rain boots for $9.99, not understanding I couldn’t look at those boots too at a safe social distance, but I thought I held my chill quite fabulously.

I drove home with sweat on my face, even though I shed my face mask as soon as the sun and stale air hit me, and I looked at the clock. 2:01pm. The pool had just opened, for what I might add was the last block of the day, and I tried not to be concerned.

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ll just grab the girls when I get home, and we’ll go. After I put the groceries away. It won’t be full.”

Thirty minutes, or so, later I walked to the pool gate with my three daughters in tow, and I approached the “guard shack” at the gate.

The older man who had watched me approach from a sweltering journey of 50 yards away managed to look at his clipboard (and not my eyes) while he commented, “sorry, I only got room for one.”

I watched the jolly group of nineteen tan bodies bobbing in the cool, crisp, chlorinated water, and I said with as much joyful inflection as I could muster, “sorry, girls, we can’t go swimming. There’s no room for us.”

The grumbles began as we made the trek back to the already hot truck interior, and my eldest stomped ahead of us all with passionate disdain.

Suddenly, surprising even myself, I directed this comment to my angry middle schooler, “you know, this sucks for me too! I wanted to relax before I go to work tomorrow and wear a mask I can’t breathe in all day, but nope, not happening!”

I could have stopped there, but I didn’t. I’d like to say my raging rant didn’t continue after the truck doors closed, but that just wouldn’t be true. I’d like to forget that my raised voice, directed at the powers that be, made my four year old burst into tears, like I had projected them towards her, but I can’t seem to sweep it under the rug that easily. You could cut the tension with a knife as my nine year old messaged her neighborhood friend who planned on meeting us there, and I decided I was ready to cry right about the time the tears fell down my face.

“I have no right to be anyone’s parent,” I confessed to my husband at home, detailing the uncontrollable fit I had thrown in the vehicle. “How can I tell the girls not to overreact when I can’t even control my own self?!”

Want to hear the worst part? The message from my daughter to her friend read, “my mom is mad. I think it’s my fault cause I got mad.”

Insert knife in heart.

I read the message to my spouse, ready to burst into new tears. Bless his heart, my husband knew my hormones at the time weren’t helping matters, and he knew the stress that I (and all of us) had been under, but above all I think he understood my humanness. In all his calm understanding he tried to console me, and he tried to convince me not to be too hard on myself.

“Everyone has feelings,” he said. “We all get angry sometimes.”

Then he suggested I go back to the pool as the “one” allowed still to enter. I did say bless his heart, already, right?!

Five minutes later I sat by the water, and I texted my husband that more people might leave soon. I was having trouble getting over myself, and I still felt guilt for being a pot who tries to raise kettles not to be black. I mean, I could barely see the screen on my phone for the plank in my eye, or at least that’s how I felt. I texted that they could all join me soon, I was sure.

But he replied back, “maybe you just needed to hang out with Jesus today.”

I laughed back that, “I must need it.😆”

He replied quite simply, “we all do.”

And that was the truth of it. I needed Jesus. Every minute of every day, I needed Him, cause on my own, I was a hot mess!

Y’all, I confessed pride. It was easy sometimes to think you had it all together. Like, I thought I knew what was important in life, and I scoffed at people who didn’t. I rolled my eyes at people who got upset over trivial matters. First World Problems, I called it, and over the last month or two, I had gotten pretty fed up with listening to people gripe about theirs. Just being honest. I had floated along through all the turmoil, and while it had been hard on me too, for the most part I tried to maintain. I knew that things could always be worse, and I tried to react to inconvenience with that in mind. In fact, I realized (or God revealed) sitting by the pool, that I had been pretty proud of myself for rolling with the punches. That is, until my emotions punched me right in the gut.

I had gotten upset over the very kind of thing I had chastised people for getting upset about! I had reacted poorly to personal inconvenience, and I wanted to slap me for it. How dare I stand and tell anyone to calm down when I couldn’t maintain my own feelings. How could I lecture my children when I acted like a child sometimes? And that was when I knew it even more than I did before. That’s when Jesus reminded me just how much I need Him. Without Him, I’m a mess, and I was humbled to remember that I fall so easy. I need Jesus. We all do.

This hasn’t been an easy year for any of us, and today I am reminded how fragile human emotions can be. I’m reminded of our need for the Rock of Salvation, that strong tower that keeps us steady in all of life’s storms. I don’t have it all together, and I shouldn’t expect more of anyone than I do of myself. Today may we all be reminded to lead with kindness. You never know how close another person is to losing their chill.

Snags: Everything Happens For A Reason

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I haven’t shared many personal stories of our little family lately, but after today’s events especially, I felt the need to tell you about it. Today we were finally able to move to another RV Park. The state of Florida had opened back up (kinda), and we packed up our moving home this morning to go elsewhere. The camping membership we hold allows us to camp for free as long as we shuffle between parks within our membership, and even a couple of weeks free at sister parks. It just so happened we had been at a sister park when the Governor decided to lock down the state. The company communication we had received early April said if we happened to be in a sister park we wouldn’t be kicked out, but we would be required to pay rent. We initially tried to get back to our home base park, but when it became apparent we weren’t being allowed to move by law we accepted our fate. No anxiety, no stress. We knew God would provide.

I paid the park around thirty days of lot rent, and we settled down to ride this one out, come what may. It was closer to work, at least, and we focused on bright sides like that. The day after our payment I received a call back from them to inform me they would be refunding our money.

Her exact words were, “we were told not to charge you for your stay.”

I didn’t ask who told them that, but rather took the good news with a smile. I’m connected with other members through social media, and it became apparent that not everyone (in fact, no one I knew of) received this same exception. I saw a lot of people angry over having to pay out of pocket. I don’t know if it was because I’m a nurse, but I just took it as a God is good to us moment and moved on.

I just had to share that story, but that’s not even the real message of my post today. As we seek God’s will He continues to bless us more than we deserve, and the above was simply another example of that.

But back to moving… we worked together in fluid motion, despite sitting in one spot for a month and a half. We were just about ready to roll, but as we closed up the slides we hit a snag. I watched one of the three close, but then nothing.

I heard Ben say, “ut-oh. We got a problem.”

The slides had stopped going in, and I knew this could be a number of things, some being quite costly. But even putting the financial aspect aside, we didn’t really need the delay. I had a few days off, and we were taking a much-needed getaway after we moved our RV. We had found a secluded state park, and since the children had not left the house in 8 weeks, we were all excited for the trip. Naturally I wondered if we’d even make it.

My husband ran through all the things he knew to do. The awning also wouldn’t move, so we knew it was a power issue, not just a slide issue, thank the Lord. He checked fuses, breakers, GFC outlets, the power box outside. When we came up empty on our end, we wondered if perhaps it was a problem at the electric box. So I called the park office, and they said they’d send a maintenance man out to check their box.

As I stood outside wondering what it might be I felt led to pray this. “Lord, what do you want to show us through this? How can you use this situation to impact your kingdom?”

See, I’ve learned something through the years. Ever heard that old adage “everything happens for a reason?” Well, while it sounds cliche, it’s actually true. Although some problems arise because of our own poor decisions rather than God’s will, I am of the belief that He has His hands in all things, especially when we invite Him to be a part of all of our life. I was the kind of person that knew delays were part of God’s plan, whether to protect me or redirect me, and I trusted Him no matter what the situation. Time and time again He had proven His ability to work all things for our good, and I had come to a place in my life where I also wanted Him to use me for His good. Hence, the “how can you use this” question. He had done so much (and continues to do so much) for us that I desired to do for Him.

Within a few minutes of my prayer a golf cart rolled up, and I knew immediately the why. As I watched the maintenance guy and my husband speak together I had no doubt in my mind. This was the purpose for our problem. I was to pray for this man.

Now, before you misunderstand, it’s not that I felt my prayers specifically were the key to this man’s salvation. God is all powerful and able to do as He wills, but the fact is He likes to get His children involved. It’s like a family business, and Poppa gives His kids the keys to His empire, and all the tools they need to run it like He models. When His children pray, filled with His power and strength, they are able to make things move in the spiritual realm, and I felt like there was a spiritual battle going on for this man’s soul.

I felt like this man had a part to play, much like we all do, and God needed him in our family to work His purposes for his future. It’s like life is similar to the ripples on a lake after a stone is thrown. You never know how the waves you make when you jump in will impact people on the shore, for generations to come even. I didn’t know what the Lord had in mind for this man, but I felt like it was important. I felt like my prayers were strengthening the angel armies, like a battle cry prior to sounding the charge, and it helped tip the fight in the favor of good.

The gentleman didn’t stick around long before he determined there wasn’t a problem with their box, but he had shown up long enough for me to know to pray for him. And boy, did I! Meanwhile we knew the problem rested with our rig, and like a veil was lifted suddenly I heard my husband pronounce, “I think I figured it out.”

It was something he had already checked, right at first, and somehow missed. As he set to check the issue I knew in my heart this would fix it. God’s purpose had prevailed, and we could go now. Sure enough, the slides went in, we hooked up, and we took off. Somehow we were only 30 minutes behind schedule, even though that snafu had seemed much longer.

I felt such joy as we drove away, and not because we had escaped a hefty repair bill, or even due to the white, sandy beach that awaited me. I felt joy because of Jesus, and I have never felt so full than I do when I live a life loving and serving Him. I’ve discovered that a life serving the Lord isn’t perfect and without pain. A perfect life would have let us move to our home base RV Park when we tried to, but then I never would have seen how God can move mountains out of the way for me. A perfect life would contain slides that never stopped working, but then I would not have seen how God can use me to work in the middle of my mess, for His glory.

Making it Not Meaningless

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God is doing something in me. I’m not yet sure what that is, but it’s something. Do you ever feel that way?

Three years ago my husband and I had reached an odd place in life. We found ourselves for the first time feeling anxious, downtrodden, and like things just weren’t right. We didn’t know what it was, but we knew who we could turn to in times of trouble. With that in mind we both took a greater interest in scripture. I mean, we had liked the Bible before, but at this stage in our life it became a deep need. We were thirsty, and God’s Word became our water. We were feeling empty, and His Bread of Life became our sustenance. We loved life, but we knew there was more than what we were doing to live it. I suppose that empty, strange time taught me that feeling like you’re lacking isn’t necessarily a bad thing. Perhaps it’s just God forcing you to seek a solution.

Towards the end of 2017 we realized that God had big change in mind. We sold everything we owned. We left our dream house behind. We left family we loved. And most importantly, we left what was known and comfortable. I mean, being in your comfort zone isn’t the best thing in life, but it can sure feel that way when God leads you towards the unknown. Uncertainty is scary, but I discovered that’s where you go to find your faith.

Today as I talked to the Lord about what was rumbling around in my head lately, I felt the leading to read Ecclesiastes. Ugh. I had always found it such a depressing read. Meaningless?! The guy just droned on and on about how life sucked. Or that’s the way I remembered it anyway. Funny how your perception can change.

Today I found myself nodding along. I had sought wisdom, gone to college, gotten that degree and dependable job my dad had suggested. I had enjoyed my toil, finding pleasure in helping others in healthcare. Certainly nothing wrong with that. I had worked hard, built my credit score, and got the house I always wanted. I had beautiful baby girls and all the fancy frills that went along with it. I had obtained the perfect life, and I was happy!

Then I had let go of all the things I had worked so hard for. Not because they weren’t enjoyable gifts. I let them go because I knew there was more. If the past month during a pandemic has taught me anything, it’s that there’s more for us here on earth. When you watch the world (as you know it) fall apart, you’re reminded how little you actually fish for men. When existence on this side of Heaven is questioned, you recognize that a kingdom mindset is the only one that really matters. It’s the one that’s not meaningless.

What an unpopular opinion that one is, you know? Society today knows little else than to toil. We have been raised to believe that is what gives us value in our lives. How hard we can work to achieve stability and station. Nothing like a nationwide lockdown to show things in a different light, eh?

Over the past couple of years I have discovered how to put my trust completely and totally in Jesus. We asked Him where to work, where to live, and how to go through each day. Where do we sow our time, our money, our focus, Lord? And as we asked, He answered.

This afternoon I found myself feeling like even though I had yanked myself from the familiar to the unknown, it still wasn’t quite far enough. It’s like once you’ve touched the hem of His garment, the rest seems fairly mundane. As I walked further from the pleasures of the world, I felt Him whisper, “just a little bit more.”

What is God doing in me right now? I’m not sure. I do know each day He leads me closer, and He shows me what’s important in life. I know the Lord wants His children to be happy. I mean, I bought my daughters some electronic tablets during this quarantine. I know it’s not the best thing in this world for their little minds, but I do know it gives them joy too. My Heavenly Father smiles at me enjoying life, enjoying my gifts, enjoying myself. That’s not meaningless. I suppose it’s just good to remember that the happy gifts aren’t always the lasting gifts. The lasting gifts are relationships, appreciation of the people in my life, and fulfilling the role God has for me in this life.

I felt like God told me today, “it’s not for you to have the knowledge of good and evil. It’s for you to have the knowledge of my love. Life without my love is meaningless.”

So, what’s God doing in my life right now? I’m not completely sure. But I imagine it has something to do with helping more people gain the knowledge of His love.

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.

Three Things God Says About COVID-19

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Nothing brings character out quite like crisis. You will see some of the most courageous people charge into a burning building, but sadly, you will also see the ones who knock down the weak, trampling them to escape calamity. You will see people who instill fear, take advantage of a bad situation, yet also the helpers, the ones who pick up the fallen, serve the weak, despite their own trepidation, and give more than they take. I would like to think that all followers of Jesus fall into only one of the above mentioned categories, but sadly we all can fall to fear, panic, and survival of the fittest. Yet, in a time of chaos and uncertainty, I believe God calls His children to a deeper level of trust in Him. So, consider this a friendly reminder, to all of us who profess the faith, to follow the commands God has put forth for us in His word.

Without further ado, here are three things God is telling us amidst COVID-19.

1. Stay home! I want to put this as best as I can. I completely understand the fear of losing financial resources. I totally do. Most of us don’t have a huge savings built up, but I’m trying to encourage a kingdom mindset amongst all of this. I want my brothers and sisters out there to try and see this situation as an opportunity to grow deeper in dependence and relationship with Jesus, to not fear the waves that come, but trust the one who controls the storms. It’s not the boat that will save you; it’s the One who controls the ocean. He will provide.

Also, let’s think about what’s important. Is it staying current on bills or human life? Trust me as a healthcare provider on the frontline of this. It’s serious. People are dying. Maybe not you, the healthy twenty-something, but you can be without symptoms at the beginning of the virus and pass it along to people you do care about. Your grandparents, your friend’s immune compromised child. Life will always trump bank balance.

Then there’s this little nugget.

Romans 13:1-2 (NIV)

Submission to Governing Authorities

13 Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established. The authorities that exist have been established by God. 2 Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgment on themselves.

Please trust the experts in disease transmission on this. Let’s not listen to that mom in your private Facebook group.

I won’t say I believe every word from a politician’s mouth or especially the news, but I do obey the authorities God has placed over me. Our government has given very clear and strong recommendations, and a large number of people are still ignoring the highly educated, well established plans to slow the spread of this virus. You are hurting others, you are hurting yourself, and you are disobeying more than the president you don’t like. You’re disobeying scripture. Let’s humble ourselves under the authority God has placed over us, trust that His plans will prevail, and stay home! I’m a nurse and a Christian. I trust medical science, but above all my Savior. God has given us healthcare and healthcare providers with the knowledge to save us. Let’s trust that God-given wisdom that says staying home will keep this from getting bigger than our hospitals and medical supplies can handle. Please.

2. Stop hoarding food! I have had friends inquire of my family, if we have enough. Since we started living in an RV we have limited space for storage period. Our fridge is small, our pantry also. We can store about enough for a week for our family of five, and that means frequent grocery trips. This past week I went shopping after a twelve hour shift at the hospital bedside, and as most of you know, the shelves were bare. Yet as I made my way through the aisles I always found one to two of every item I needed, even if it wasn’t my typical brand. By the way, I only took one, leaving the other for the next person.

Matthew 6:25-27 (NIV)

Do Not Worry

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? 26 Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? 27 Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

I’m reminded of the Israelites in the desert. God provided enough manna for each day. Some tried to take more and keep it for the next day, but He caused it to spoil. He wanted them to understand that He was their provider, and they could trust Him to give exactly what they needed. I’ll bet there’s a lot of people today who may end up throwing out some food they bought in over abundance, never realizing that God wanted to show them what He could give them.

Jesus came showing us how to be servants, showing us that the first would be last, and the last first. He saw people in need and He fed them. Never once did He hold onto what God had given Him and not share with the rest. He didn’t take all the fish and bread from the little boy and split it with His disciples. He thanked God for the little He had, then God multiplied that gratitude to feed five thousand. Imagine the blessings we are missing out on because instead of thanking God for what we’ve been given that we need, we’re taking more than enough right out of the hands of the hungry. It’s going to rot.

2 Timothy 1:7 ESV

For God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control.

Don’t let fear drive your actions. I love my family, and I feel the need to take care of them. I understand that you want to get your family what they need, but stop and consider the fact that fear is driving you to load up a shopping cart with sixteen cases of water and twelves packs of toilet paper.

Which leads us to the third yet biggest commandment He’s speaking during this time.

3. Do not fear!

I say it again. Do. Not. Fear. There’s a reason this is the most repeated phrase in scripture. You see, fear is from the devil, and fear is a liar. Is all this kinda scary? You betcha butt! I am walking into a lockdown, negative air pressure, isolation, COVID-19 unit at work. Tons of healthcare providers around the country are doing this. If we let fear rule our actions, we would shut them all in a room and let nature take its course, but no, we go in and provide the very best, life-saving care we can. Are we afraid of catching the virus, or perhaps spreading it to our family? Of course! But we don’t let fear dominate and rule our actions. The reason the Bible says so frequently not to fear is because God knows we will. Sin has created some really crazy, frightening things out there, but faith in Jesus gives us a mode to combat fear and not let it rule our hearts and lives. He has overcome all evil, and COVID is no different. Even death has lost its sting, y’all. I serve a creator who gives eternal life, and the gift He offers is bigger than the most fatal of diseases.

Do you think this surprises God? Do you think He is as shocked as we all are by the death toll in Italy? No!

Psalm 139:16 ESV

Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.

God knows beginning to end. He knew this was coming, and He knows how it will end. He knows the solution. He knows the good that will come from this. What the enemy means for evil, God will turn to our good. We have a tendency to forget that.

God is whispering amongst the chaos,

come to me, all who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest. I will give you peace. I do not give as the world gives. Take comfort, for I have overcome the world. There it is. Do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wasteland and streams in the desert. Hope like a river, it flows to those who trust in me. Do not be afraid. I will uphold you with my righteous right hand. Your foot will not strike the stone. I will rescue you.

If I were to offer any advice during this time of social distancing it would be this. Use this time to read the Bible. Y’all! There’s a wealth of truth and wisdom from the Lord inside those pages. Let them be a healing balm to your worried soul. Let them guide your decisions so that fear doesn’t lead you, but His peace sustains you. Listen to the real expert on what’s happening. Don’t just take my word for it.

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.