Do you believe?

Several weeks ago I began whining about my health, lack of energy, and feeling overwhelmed with life. I prayed, but the words I uttered sounded like whining, too. Frankly, I was getting tired of myself.

During all this boo-hooing, I kept doing my Bible study. One morning I ran across Matthew 9:28 and I stalled, reading it over and over again.

“Do you believe I am able to do this?”

All those “I” statements came rushing back to me. I can’t do this. I’m too tired to do that. I wish I could crawl under the sheet and stay there until I feel more like me.

I . . . I . . . I.

So I kept reading the verse. Did I believe God could do this? Handle all my mess? Could I trust Him enough to get it done?
Then the absolute unimaginable sentence slipped into my mind. Would God do it the way I wanted it done or would He change things . . . or change me?

Wow! Now I had shifted the whole ballgame. God was asking me to put my full trust in His delivery even when I didn’t particularly like His response. So I spent the next few weeks listening, waiting, doing less complaining, and a lot more praying.

I began each day in prayer. And I prayed over what I had on the calendar and asked for God’s guidance on every bit of it.. At first it was an inner struggle. If I sat down, my knees would bob up and down. My grandmother used to call it the St. Vitus dance. I never asked her what it meant, and I’ve used the expression many times; so I looked it up.

“Sydenham’s chorea, historically referred to as Saint Vitus Dance, is a disorder characterized by rapid, uncoordinated jerking movements primarily affecting the face, hands, and feet. “

In my case, it was the legs. But the action actually began to calm me down. Don’t ask. I’m strange. Ask my granddaughter, Jackie. She shakes her head and smiles as soon as I begin to explain the oddities of life. Don’t ask about that either.

At the end of each day, I began to see God’s hand in every movement. The layout of my plans under His direction began to have a rhythm. The most important things were done first. There was no mayhem anymore. And no . . . I did not complete everything on my list. That’s the beauty of it. I realized I didn’t need to.

That’s when I began to feel the internal change. The power from within that could only have been from God. I became excited to visit Him in prayer each morning and dedicate my list to Him. Before long, I felt at ease prioritizing my list, keeping a separate list for things “I’d like to do”.

The internal change became an outward change. My legs quit bobbing when I sat in silent reflection and prayer. Yes, I was still tired, but I also began stopping during the day. I started coloring. Yep . . . coloring! I kept a table set up with colored pencils and beautifully illustrated scripture sheets from a coloring book I bought at a Margaret Feinberg Women’s Conference. Even if I stopped for 10 minutes, it gave me time to breathe deep and reflect.

It’s amazing how revived I became and was able to accomplish more than I could have imagined, even doing things not on my list – mailing cards and calling family and friends.

It’s been eleven weeks. Eleven weeks of believing Jesus can do this. My Bible study has gone deeper. My prayer life has accelerated. Knowing that I need the Lord Jesus Christ as my Savior, and yes, Life Planner, too. I need Him in the extremes of life and in the everyday planning of it.

Thank you, Jesus, for standing by me and showing patience in my angst. I’m still tired, but You are helping me manage that, too. Bless you for loving me to the uttermost!

God bless you!

Wall Ball

When my brother was a young boy, he used to go outside, throw a ball at the side of the house, and spend hours catching, throwing and running after it. Sometimes I could tell if he was upset about something because he would throw that ball with all the strength his young body could muster.

Recently I realized I’m kind of doing the same thing. Not with a ball, but with life issues: disappointments, failed goals, insecurity, and uncertainty. I stand tall and make my declaration that I am done with a particular issue. I pray over it and throw that ball of concern to God. But instead of turning around and leaving with certainty that God would take care of it, I’d run as fast as I could to retrieve the very thing that was weighing me down.

I don’t necessarily do this consciously. But it’s pretty evident when I am overwhelmed and overburdened over the same problem that I’m still holding onto it. That’s when I realize I never gave it away at all.

Why? Do I not trust God to handle the issue? Am I that much a control freak? Do I fear God won’t handle it the way I would? Do I struggle with waiting and being patient on God’s timing?

Philippians 4:6-7 states, “Don’t worry about anything, but in everything through prayer and petition with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses every thought, will guard your hearts and mind in Christ Jesus.”

By retrieving the concern, I’m losing the peace God has promised me. When I walk away from the burden, the peace promised keeps my mind settled on God’s will and His timing. I begin to see the things God places in my hand, those things he wants me to manage, and I know His blessing is attached to each for success. I can feel it.

Getting rid of the stuff I can’t control has allowed God to fill up my life with grander opportunities.

Remember the song “What A Friend We Have In Jesus”?

Oh what peace we often forfeit.

Oh what needless pain we bear.

All because we do not carry everything to God in prayer.

I think I’m going outside and throw some balls of concern to Jesus. And, I’m not picking up one of them. Not this time. This isn’t a game. It’s my declaration that I do trust God to handle the things I cannot seem to manage on my own.

Do you have a ball of concern you need to throw to Jesus? If so, don’t snatch it back just to worry over it anew. Affirm that Jesus can handle your concern. Kiss it goodbye, throw it as hard as you can. Turn around and walk away. Jesus has a large mitt and never fails to catch everything we throw His way.

God bless you always!

Faith:

Faith “is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen” (Hebrews 11:1)

            I love Martin Luther King, Jr’s quote, “Faith is taking the first step when you don’t see the whole staircase.”

            All I can think of when I read this quote is trying to make it up the staircase in the Currituck Lighthouse. Being slightly claustrophobic, it’s all I can do to put one foot in front of the other. If someone is coming up close behind me, I panic. There’s nowhere to go! There’s nothing to hang onto. The wall is slick as glass. If you lose your footing, there’s no place to go but down!

            Several years ago, my granddaughter would hear none of my whining about not going up to the top of the lighthouse. She literally pushed me up the first step and became my encourager with each step I took after that. “You can do it, Nana!”

            I thought I was doing really well. I finally took my eyes off my feet and actually looked ahead. Then this rotund man decided I was going too slow and squeezed past me, causing me to almost lose my balance. It was not a pretty sight. But my granddaughter put her hand on my back and said, “I’ve got you, Nana!”

            My granddaughter’s hand became a physical presence of reassurance and faith that I could make it up those steep, winding, narrow steps. Plus I knew her, trusted her. Our relationship and love gave me extra comfort.

            But what about God? How do I establish faith in an unseen God?

            Trust me, I’ve struggled with this. Wondering. Questioning. When I shared my doubts with a sweet, elderly woman in my church, she said, “Read the Bible.” Read the Bible? I left thinking the woman was a simpleton; she hadn’t helped me at all. Just read the Bible?

            I picked at verses and chapters, nothing made sense. I went back to my church friend and announced, “I’m so confused. Where do I begin?” She looked at me as if I had two horns and pronounced, “Read John! Get to know your Savior.” I didn’t question her.

            Her advice began my daily journey into discovering faith. Let me confess, crawling into the Bible wasn’t easy. It was often hard to digest, being firm, bold, and relentless. Then one day, I ran across Romans 10:17. “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”

            I remembered my friend’s words. She didn’t tell me what faith was. She sent me to the source to find it for myself. That’s when I declared her to be a spiritual genius. Well, in my limited knowledge of geniuses, she was a genius!

            “To one who has faith no explanation is necessary, to one without faith, no explanation is possible.” (Thomas Aquinas)

            Faith is too grand to be fully explained. It is a way of life, an awakening to something more than we can ever become. Faith comes through a relationship with Jesus.

            Last summer, I sat staring up at the lookout area on top of Currituck Lighthouse. With a huge sigh, I went inside, paid my entry fee, walked to the first step, and hesitated. Looking up at the circular steps I uttered, “Jesus, you’ve got my back on this one.”

            I kept my head up, imagining Jesus walking ahead of me and standing behind me. My breath stabilized. With each step, I became more confident. By step sixteen, I could have cried. We were doing it. I wanted to high-five Jesus, but stopped when I heard two teenagers say, “excuse me”. The next few steps were swallowed up behind a wall. I could not see them, and the teens were shoving and pushing one another to see who could climb up faster.

            I reached into my pocket, grabbed the index card I had placed there the night before, and read, “Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of the faith is to see what you believe.” (Saint Augustine)

            My back straightened. I could almost feel the light pressure of a hand. Taking one step at a time, I began my ascent. Two more people passed me. I kept moving forward. When I reached the top, I realized the journey wasn’t really about climbing Currituck Lighthouse. It was about confirming my faith. It was a pivotal moment for me, one that continues to be affirmed

            “The assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”

            Faith.