There are months that go by in a blur, and so far, November has been one of them.
I say this every time, but it’s hard to believe it’s already time to link up with Heather Gerwing for another Share Four Somethings post. But here we are, so let’s proceed.
Try as I might to feel otherwise, I was worrying about the what-ifs of a particular situation.
I was struggling, chasing my tail, vacillating between praying for God’s will to be done and foolishly wanting to ensure that my own will is done.
Happy November! I missed the Share Four Somethings deadline for October because of the Whole30. Weak excuse, perhaps, but going without sugar, grains, dairy and a few other food categories for 30 days tends to run my creative juices dry, at least near the end.
I craved cupcakes, Starbucks and pasta more than a few times, but it was a good month overall. I made chicken bone broth and chopped lots of bell peppers. I did some fall work in the flowerbeds. I’ve made some headway on a book project (more on that below) and achieved a modest running goal that seemed unreachable a few months ago.
When I was reading through the Book of James last year, I wrote about a verse that encourages us to ask God for wisdom, knowing that He gives to all generously and without finding fault.
In this post, I focused mostly on the way James 1:5 talks about God, not on wisdom. A few days later, though, I came across an answer to a question I hadn’t even asked—namely, what does the wisdom that God gives so freely actually look like?
Here’s how James 3:17 describes it: “But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.” (ESV)
I’ve always thought of wisdom in terms of its synonyms—knowledge, good sense, discernment, insight, and so on. In my mind, it’s something I especially desire when I don’t know what to do—why else would I need to ask God for it?
That’s true, but it’s not the whole picture. The fact that James 3:17 talks about “wisdom from above” indicates that there are other types of wisdom available to us.
We can pray for wisdom all we want, but how do we determine whether the “wisdom” we’re receiving is from God, especially when we’re also seeking out information and direction from other sources, such as online and via social media?
Here’s a starting point. Wisdom from above both enables us and prompts us to act in a certain way. More specifically, it never directs us to behave or speak in a way that is opposite what we read in James 3:17.
In other words, instead of having an arrogant, argumentative, know-it-all, rough or patronizing attitude or tone, people who display godly wisdom are gentle, open to reason, merciful, impartial and sincere (as opposed to hypocritical). In addition, the thoughts they share are pure (which includes not contradicting scripture).
That’s worth pondering for a moment, isn’t it?
This can get complicated sometimes, especially in these days of continual outrage and offendability. If the people with whom we are interacting don’t like what we are saying, for example, they may interpret our tone to be harsh, judgmental or accusatory when it’s really not. Other times, though, we may think we are coming across gently when nothing could be further from the truth, no matter what we are saying.
It reminds me of what C.S. Lewis says about pride in Mere Christianity—that “there is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves.”
As with pride, people who mistakenly think they are operating under the influence of godly wisdom often are the least likely to see that they are not. At the same time, individuals who truly exhibit wisdom from above stand out in all the good ways.
When I think of people in my life who have displayed this kind of wisdom—my dad, mentors I had when I was a young mom, friends I have now as the mom of teenage daughters—I see that they share some similar traits.
They pray. They study the Bible. They read widely (though they don’t necessarily follow many popular voices). They give advice when asked, but don’t often offer unsolicited opinions. They don’t talk excessively, and they listen well.
This is the kind of person I aspire to be, and I also hope to see these traits develop in my daughters. It’s a lifelong process, though. I may have a bit more wisdom now than I did even a few years ago, but just as soon as I start thinking of myself as remotely wise, I’m fairly sure God will find ways to gently (or not so gently) remind how far I have to go.
I pray for my girls to have wise mentors and role models, just as I did, especially when they are far away from me. I pray that, over time, the seeds of wisdom that are already evident in them will grow, mature and bear fruit. I pray that God would teach us all to number our days, so that we may develop a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)
I pray with confidence, because if I’m sure of anything, it’s this: In this day of shortages and supply chain disruptions, there’s no shortage of wisdom from above. God is ready and willing to give it to us—generously and without finding fault.
All we have to do is ask for it.
♥ Lois
In this day of shortages and supply chain disruptions, there’s no shortage of wisdom from above. God is ready and willing to give it to us—generously and without finding fault. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, Inspire Me Monday and Grace & Truth.
In recent months, I’ve grappled with what my purpose is now that my nest is emptying. It’s still a year or two away from actually being empty, but “what next?” looms large (at least in my mind).
Perhaps this is because of that dreaded question, “What do you do?”
I love being a stay-at-home mom and homemaker. Even during the hard seasons and life phases when internal challenges were worse than external ones, I have always loved it.
Now though, with Lilly a college sophomore and Molly a high-school junior, my answer seems to fall flat. I’m 50 years old, for Pete’s sake. I should have more to say when people ask me what I do. (Shouldn’t I?)
The truth is, I’m grateful I’ve been able to stay home with my girls as they were growing up. Even though my resume has some rather large gaps in it, I wouldn’t do it differently if I had to do it again.
Beyond that, my girls still need me, albeit in different ways. Molly needs my presence; Lilly needs my words. And both of them, apparently, need my editing skills.
My girls are good students, but because they have very different academic strengths, I try to tailor my tutoring to fit the daughter in front of me.
Last fall, for example, Lilly was nearing the end of the semester and struggling to wrap her head around a final paper. During a phone conversation when she was especially frustrated, I gave her some writing tips, tried my best to encourage her and prayed for her before we said good-bye.
It helped, she texted later. “I took your suggestion and did what you said … I don’t know why, but doing what you say often actually works.”
Another day, I sat down at the dining room table with Molly and we went through a paper that she was trying to write, line by line. She was distracted by the windy conditions outside, so I had to rein her back in a few times.
I tried to teach her a few things while also retaining her unique voice. Like Lilly, she ended up with a much better paper than she had before.
The guidance I gave my girls applies whether we’re jotting down an Instagram caption, writing a rough draft, editing our own words one sentence at a time or helping someone else clarify what they want to say.
• Stick to the point. Narrow it down, don’t try to cover everything. This is easier done in shorter pieces, but it’s even more important in larger writing projects.
• Sound like yourself. Communicate in writing the same way that you talk. Molly was getting bogged down in rubrics and detailed outlines of what every sentence in her paper had to be. Just write down what you want to say and worry about rubrics later, I told her. You have a voice; use it.
• Don’t try to impress; write for your audience. This is college, Mom—it’s not high school, Lilly tells me. Yes, but you are writing a freshman paper. Sure, it’s for an honors class. But it’s not a doctoral dissertation. You are a good writer, just write. Provide the information, but keep it simple.
What’s true in writing is also true in life, I’ve found. We put so much pressure on ourselves to sound and act like we think other people think we should sound and act. Chances are, though, what they are thinking has nothing to do with us anyway. And if we know in our hearts that we are doing what God has for us right now, that’s enough.
When we run the race set before us, we can’t skip ahead to mile 23 when we’re only on mile 3. I don’t know what I’ll be doing a year from now. But I do know what I have to do today.
My girls will grow academically as they mature. It’s how the brain works as a body develops. What they are able to accomplish and understand now looks very different from what they were able to understand and accomplish in fifth grade.
The same is true for us, I think. Add a decade of life experience, and everything looks different.
Strength builds over time, one step at a time.
♥ Lois
When we run the race set before us, we can’t skip ahead to mile 23 when we’re only on mile 3. I don’t know what I’ll be doing a year from now. But I do know what I have to do today. Share on X Add a decade of life experience, and everything looks different. Strength builds over time, one step at a time. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, Inspire Me Monday, One Word 2021 Linkup and Grace & Truth.
Though I read it long ago, one of those pithy statements at the end of an Our Daily Bread devotional has come back to guide me recently.
It went something like this:
Patient: “Doc, I broke my arm in two places.”
Doctor: “Stay outa them places.”
I’ve been thinking about this lately in relation to the Internet and social media. It all seems to be louder, angrier and more reactionary with every passing day. On top of that, there’s so much “content” out there that seems pointless, to put it mildly.
A quick check of YouTube or Instagram proves this, but it really hit home one night when Randy and I were watching Master Chef: Legends (after having not watched broadcast television for many months). The show itself was good, but the programming previewed in the commercials seemed so vacuous and void of anything redeemable that it left me feeling a bit depressed.
The Bible doesn’t address 2021’s digital landscape specifically, but it certainly contains truths that are relevant today. Consider Psalm 12:8, for example: “The wicked prowl all around, and what is worthless is exalted by the human race.”
That pretty much sums up the state of our world today, doesn’t it?
Thankfully, though, the scriptures don’t leave us defenseless against this sad situation. Psalm 119 offers a strategy, stated in the form of a prayer:
“Teach me, Lord, the meaning of your statutes, and I will always keep them. Help me understand your instruction, and I will obey it and follow it with all my heart. Help me stay on the path of your commands, for I take pleasure in it. … Turn my eyes from looking at what is worthless; give me life in your ways. (Psalm 119:33-35, 37, emphasis added)
I don’t know about you, but that last part sounds a bit like “stay outa them places” to me.
We can’t control or dictate what other people look at for the most part, but we can manage where we fix our own gaze, and for how long. With the Holy Spirit’s help, we actually can keep our “eyes from looking at what is worthless.”
This might sound simple enough, but our devotion to our screens can make it tricky. How does the thought of going offline for a day—or even an hour—make you feel? I’m no expert, but I feel pretty confident suggesting that how we respond to this question is a good indication of exactly how addicted we are to our electronics.
And how badly we need to do something about it.
Last April, after noticing how much time I spent was wasting clicking from one article to another on my favorite news and commentary sites, I decided to stop looking at them altogether.
I still hear news on the radio. I get some email newsletters and Randy keeps me up to date on current events that interest me. But for the most part, no news is good news for my mental health.
I know this—I can see it and feel it—but even now, there are times when I really want to check the latest headlines. When I’m tired, bored or feeling out of sorts, the temptation is greater—as it often is for other addictive behavior.
Fortunately, as 1 Corinthians 10:13 promises, God won’t allow me to be tempted beyond my capacity to resist. He gives me a way to escape, I just have to use it.
I can literally close my browser and get up out of my chair. I can get outa that place, if only for the moment.
Quitting the news cold turkey was a good start, but last month I began sensing a draw to do something else when it comes to stewarding my time and attention. I wasn’t sure what, exactly, but I knew something was brewing in my heart and soul.
I wasn’t feeling prompted to fast from food one day a month, like I used to do many years ago. But what about “fasting” from the internet one day a week? Once the idea came to me, it wouldn’t let go.
So for the last month or so, that’s what I’ve been doing. Aside from texting family members and playing music on Spotify, I’m completely offline on Thursdays. No email, social media or Google.
I don’t have Instagram or email on my phone, so that helps. I’m not intentionally spending long periods of time praying or anything like that, but I do find myself engaging in more conversations with Jesus throughout the day.
I thought it would be really hard.
I thought I would struggle much more than I do.
Instead, it’s almost a relief.
One Thursday, among all my other regular activities, I had a very productive texting conversation with my daughter at college. I read three chapters in Mere Christianity. I wrote most of a blog post.
Nothing worthless about any of that, but plenty of life and meaning.
Now I look forward to Thursdays. They’ve been recalibrating my body, soul and spirit in ways I didn’t even know I needed. They’re helping me “live with a heart of integrity in my house” and assisting as I try to “not let anything worthless guide me.” (Psalm 101:2b-3a)
You know me. I’m not in the habit of telling everyone they should do what I do. There’s nothing legalistic about this; it’s simply a practice that is bringing me life right now.
I will say this, though. If the “places” you’re spending your time are sucking the life out of you—perhaps even turning you into someone you don’t recognize or don’t even like—you might want to consider staying outa them places. Even if it’s only for one day a week.
♥ Lois
We can’t control or dictate what other people look at for the most part, but we can manage where we fix our own gaze, and for how long. Share on X Spending Thursdays entirely offline has been recalibrating my body, soul and spirit in ways I didn’t even know I needed. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, Inspire Me Monday, #HeartEncouragement and Grace & Truth.