My church is doing a sermon series on Daniel, the Old Testament book that is centered squarely on the theme of God’s sovereignty.
I sit in the service next to my 17-year-old daughter, a junior at a large public high school, and the current cultural relevance of this powerful portion of scripture practically hits me over the top of the head every Sunday.
How do you live with your one broken heart?
The question Ann Voskamp asks in The Broken Way has come to mind frequently these past few months as I’ve tried to adjust to some sad new realities in my parents’ lives. And then there’s a variation on this theme that hits even closer to home: how do I live with my one breaking heart?
The infrastructure of my world has shifted significantly these last couple of months.
At home, things are good. At least, as good as they can be when two teenage daughters are living with two middle-aged parents in a world full of cynicism and pain and unanswerable questions. We each have our days and our issues, but overall, I am very thankful for these three who are closest to me.
Just a bit further out, though, a support system that I’ve relied on my entire life is irrevocably changed. Now I find that I am the primary support system, and there are days when my pillars are shaky at best.
I’m not complaining. It’s a blessed privilege to be in a position—geographically and otherwise—to be able to assist two people who have loved me, prayed for me and helped me in countless ways for the past 48 years.
But when circumstances change suddenly in ways that nobody could have ever predicted, it takes a while to adjust. It takes a while to process, to grieve, to come to grips with the new normal—every time it changes.
It helps, I’m learning, if you have a foundation in place that can withstand the tremors and aftershocks that come from every which direction. Of course, you never know when you’re going to need that protection, and if you haven’t shored up your foundation before the earthquakes hit, it makes the struggle all the harder.
Not impossible, mind you. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: God will use every single thing He allows to touch His children’s lives for our good and His glory. And it’s not a huge stretch to think that He might use an earthquake as the means to shore up our foundation in way that prepares us for a future hurricane.
I’ve seen that happen in my own life; perhaps you have too.
Then there are times when you implement some relatively minor thing in your life, only to look back months or years later and realize that this one little routine had changed everything for you.
I can think of two such things right now—my near-daily habit of praying for the fruit of the Spirit to grow in my heart (which I began when I chose fruit as my One Word for 2015), and my practice of writing down the names of God as I read through the Bible (which I commenced two years later in an effort to stay focused when I got to the Book of Revelation).
I didn’t begin doing these things with any expectation that some day, they would help me out in a crisis. It was mostly because I’m an easily distracted creature of habit who also likes lists.
Today, I’m still doing both. And as I think about the difference it’s made, all I can say is that this is yet another instance of how God goes before us and prepares us for what only He knows is coming next.
It’s hard to quantify this in a tangible way. When it comes to evidence of the fruit of the Spirit in my life, for example, I have my good days and my not-so-good days.
There are times when I don’t look or act especially peaceful. Especially in the heat of the moment, the stress often gets to me. Petty things bother me and I’m pretty sure my lack of patience is evident to everyone around me.
But even on those days that prompt my children to leave a plate of homemade goodies on the kitchen island with a note that says, “We baked some ‘I’m-sorry-you’re-super-busy-running-two-households-and-are-super-stressed cookies,” I know the root system of the divine fruit tree is much denser than it once was.
I’m stretching at the seams, but—so far, anyway—I’m not falling apart.
As for the names of God having an impact, I can’t even tell you how this works.
At some subconscious level, His attributes are there. Bits and pieces of His character come to mind during the day when I’m vacuuming the living room floor. They surround me at night when I can’t sleep. They roll around in my head when I’m driving to my parents’ nursing home, often not knowing what I’m going to find when I arrive.
God is my Rock, my strength, my salvation. My portion, my song, my light. My shelter and my shield, my refuge and my fortress, my help and my deliverer. My King, my Father, my Savior.
Somehow, by recording who God is and has always been, His personal and powerful presence has become more real to me. I don’t know how else to explain it.
The result? Peace, when that’s the last thing I should be experiencing. Strength when I’m too tired to take another step. Courage to push open doors when I’m afraid of what I’m about to see.
Praying for the fruit of the Spirit and writing down God’s attributes are such simple activities. They almost seem rote, and perhaps they are. But if you’re looking for ways to shore up the foundation of your heart for the storms that are sure to come, I’d encourage you to give them a try.
The prayer thing is easy. You can do it as you brush your teeth, or as you’re putting on your shoes or waiting for your coffee to brew. If you do it at the same time every day, it will quickly become a habit.
If writing down the names of God appeals to you, it doesn’t have to be complicated or overly structured. You can use an official Bible reading plan, you can start wherever you are in your current devotional book or Bible study, or you can keep a list on your phone based on daily scriptures from your favorite Bible app.
Whenever God is described in some way, jot it down. Do it again tomorrow and the next day and the next. Let the truth of who God is infiltrate your mind and your heart, name by name.
Take it from me. Over time, it will make a difference.
• • •
Have you ever made a little change in your life that turned out to be a huge difference maker later? If so, please share in the comments …
♥ Lois
There are times when you implement some relatively minor thing in your life, only to look back later and realize that this one little routine had changed everything for you. Share on X Whenever God is described in some way, jot it down. Let the truth of who He is infiltrate your mind and your heart, name by name. Share on X
The other day I was reminded of a long-ago season of waiting, sadness and disappointment.
I don’t think about those years much anymore. Back then, though, the struggle I was engaged in affected significant aspects of my life and was never far from my mind.
Perhaps you’ve been there. Perhaps, like me, you find yourself there again.
My challenge is different this time, of course. It’s not nearly as personal or intimate, and yet it’s far more emotionally taxing, if that makes any sense at all.
There are things I tell myself when the going gets especially rough. I’ve mined these bits of truth from scripture, from the rearview mirror of my own life, from watching dear ones walk through trials far greater than any I’ve ever endured.
And as I share these thoughts with you today, know that I need to hear them too.
• You will not always feel how you feel today.
• It may seem like you are the only one who has ever been where you are right now, but you’re not.
• Somehow, you will get used to your new normal.
• You will find a way to live with what Ann Voskamp calls “your one broken heart.”
• Your current struggle will not always be the last thing on your mind when you go to bed and the first thing you think about when you wake up.
• When you come out on the other side, you will be changed. Don’t try to predict it; just expect it.
• The longer you live, the more times this process will repeat itself in your life.
• God will work out what you are going through for your good and His glory.
Day by day—whatever you do and however you feel—hold fast to God and His Word. Seek out His promises. Trust in His never-ending faithfulness.
Remember: He who has begun a good work in you will complete it. He will fulfill His purpose for you. He will not abandon the work of His hands.
He is with you. He is for you. He goes before you.
Always.
Rest in these truths, my friend. I’m resting right along with you.
♥ Lois
God will work out what you are going through for your good and His glory. Share on X
This post has been simmering on the back burner of my mind for several years. I finally wrote it a few months ago but held off on sharing it because it just didn’t feel like the right time. Until now, that is. The story I’m about to tell you has anchored my heart during some extremely trying circumstances recently, and I hope it encourages you today as well.
• • •
During the Great Recession, the construction industry in our area was hit hard and my husband Randy was laid off. After about three months, he was able to land another job with the local office of an out-of-state masonry subcontractor.
It wasn’t a position he would have chosen under more favorable market conditions, but it was work, and we were thankful or it. Then, about a year later, a recruiter from a large general contractor called him out of the blue and asked him if he was interested in interviewing for a job with her firm.
The position was closer to what Randy had done previously, so he embarked on a multiple-interview process that came down to him and one other person. When the company decided to go with the other guy, Randy was disappointed but not heartbroken. He was grateful that he had a job at all during a time when many construction companies were still closing or laying people off.
Life went on. Not long after—I think it was in late May or early June—we decided to take advantage of lower interest rates and refinance our house. We had barely started this process when his employer announced that it was closing its Kansas City office. In August 2010, Randy would be out of work for the second time in 18 months.
The company hadn’t been doing well, so the news wasn’t a complete surprise. But as my resourceful husband geared up for another job search, my mind was stuck in backward mode.
Asking “why?” is not normally my go-to response when I’m in the middle of a trial. It’s just not how my brain works. In this case, though, I kept going back to that job opportunity that hadn’t worked out.
What was the point of that? I fretted. Given our current situation, why on earth did God let Randy get that far in the process only to not get the job?
A friend of mine calls these events “dangling miracles”—when God offers up what appears to be the perfect solution to a pressing problem, only to seemingly yank it away at the last minute. If there was ever a time when we might be tempted to grumble, “Seriously, God? What were you thinking?” this would be it.
I needed to process my feelings about what was going on and how I was supposed to respond to it. So one hot day, I threw my journal in a tote bag with our beach towels, and the girls and I walked down to our neighborhood pool. While they splashed around in the water, I sat in a lounge chair and started writing.
At the top of the page, I scrawled this phrase from my favorite Bible verse:
“The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you …” (Deut. 31:8)
Then I wrote, “God knew …” followed by a list of pertinent details from the last several months. Here, edited for clarity, are some examples.
God knew …
• Randy was going to go through all those interviews for the job and not get it.
• Randy was going to lose his job in August and He still didn’t allow him to get the job in March.
• Randy was going to lose his job in August, and He still allowed us to spend nearly $10,000 on our insurance deductible earlier that year.
• We would need to spend $500 on our brakes before learning that the office was going to close.
• What the job market would be like when Randy’s office closed.
• That a friend from another company would hire someone with Randy’s qualifications three weeks before Randy called him about a job.
There it was—in black, ballpoint ink. A brief, vastly incomplete summary of what our sovereign God was perfectly well aware of before Randy found out his office was closing.
It’s true. We could have avoided all this stress and uncertainty if Randy had just gotten hired by the other company just a few months earlier. From where I sat, there by the pool, that would have made a lot more sense. And yet, obviously, that’s not what had happened.
Looking back, I find it interesting that I wrote “God knew …” at the top of the page instead of the more familiar phrase “God knows.”
For me, “God knows” evokes everything that is comforting about our God who has borne our sorrows and collects our tears in His bottle. It’s like a parent comforting a distraught child—“Mommy knows, honey … it will be OK.”
On the other hand, “God knew” is solely and completely about trust.
I’ve pondered this quite a bit since that summer day by the pool. I’ve considered my questions, my list and my desire for logical explanations. And I’ve come to realize that if I want my faith to grow, I have to reframe my thinking.
When Randy got laid off the second time, my first inclination was to ask, “If God knew …, then WHY?” That’s a natural response, but it doesn’t get us very far, does it? Eventually, banging our heads against a wall of whys will only lead to anger, frustration and despair.
A better, more helpful way to think is this: “God knew … and He still …”
This statement takes the focus off all the unanswerable questions and places it on God’s sovereignty, goodness, trustworthiness and ultimate purposes.
I still don’t know why Randy didn’t get that job only a few months before his company closed its Kansas City office. But God knew, and there’s peace in believing that He must have had a reason for the way things turned out. Not an “everything-happens-for-a-reason” cliché explanation. A holy, possibly inexplicable purpose that was somehow designed for our good and His glory.
Even if I never learn the purpose, I can choose to trust that God had one.
After that day at the pool, I came home and wrote those two words on a pink index card. I put it on my refrigerator door, where it’s been ever since.
God knew.
I think of this often when something happens that I don’t understand. When another tragedy strikes, when a friend gets bad news, when a loved one suffers, when disappointment hits hard, when I get sucked into rehashing the whys again.
God knew.
Somehow, there’s comfort in that.
As for Randy, he got a contract job with another construction company that turned into a full-time position after a few months, then took him to a project out of town (See here for a bit more of that story). Our family set out on a journey that none of us would have chosen but that definitely prepared us for future challenges. I can see this now, though I certainly couldn’t see it then.
But God knew.
♥ Lois
Even if I never learn the purpose, I can choose to trust that God had one. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, Let’s Have Coffee, Faith on Fire, Faith ‘n Friends and Grace & Truth.
We’re all in the process of becoming who we are.
I’m not sure if this is a direct quote or where it originated. But since I first heard it, the thought has left a deep imprint on my heart.
In recent years, I’ve been a close-up spectator (and sometime-supporting actor) as my parents have lived out the drama called the aging process. I’ve observed how they have reacted, adjusted, grown and struggled through some monumental challenges.
I’ve seen qualities I never realized they possessed shine forth like the midday sun, and I’ve seen other traits that I’ve known about all along present themselves in new and perplexing ways. It’s been an unforgettable journey, to say the least.
Through it all, I have come to care deeply about the kind of person I am becoming, the kind of person I will be when I’m old. It’s not about legacy or what people will think of me as much as it is about the example I’m setting for my children now and the character traits I hope will be present in their lives when they are my age and older.
These are new trains of thought for me, though I suspect countless others been guided by them long before they occurred to me. Once I got on board, however, I’ve been all in.
Which leads me to the real topic of this blog post—my One Word for 2019. Before I introduce my new word for the year, I usually write about the previous year’s word—what it meant to me, how it helped me, what it might look like in my life going forward.
At some point, I’ll share with you how the word bold served as a sort of North Star for my life in some very powerful ways in 2018. It continues to do so, in fact, which might be why I haven’t been able to write that post yet.
As is my custom, I started contemplating a word for this year several months ago. At first, I wondered if I would even have one. How was I going to top bold? I asked myself.
Then a new word started filtering through my mind—always in the context of what I want to be like when I’m old. I kept hoping it would go away, but I secretly knew from the start that this was to be my One Word for 2019.
Humble.
Honestly, I feel a bit sheepish even writing it. As words of the year go, it’s not very flashy or inspirational. But I’ve seen God use past words in my life in some pretty remarkable ways, so I’m OK with that.
To me, a humble person is someone who is not proud. That might seem obvious, but pride manifests itself in many ways, some more subtle than others. And the opposite of every one is colored by humility.
A humble person has her opinions and holds firmly to her most important convictions, but she doesn’t stubbornly insist that she is always right. She doesn’t think herself better than others. She doesn’t hold grudges. She doesn’t have an insatiable need to defend herself and her ideas. She doesn’t have to have the last word.
She doesn’t put her comfort level, her routine or her preferences ahead of anyone else’s. She understands that she can’t do life alone, and she is willing to acknowledge and accept that God’s plans for her might look nothing like her own plans.
I could go on, but I think you get the point. And you probably also see why I was hoping this word would just go away. None of this comes naturally to me—if you want proof, just ask my husband and daughters.
The Bible has a lot to say about humility, but the passage that most often comes to my mind is Philippians 2:3-4: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”
Others above self. That’s a tall order, for sure.
I’m not gonna lie—I’m a bit apprehensive about selecting humble as my word for 2019. But I was nervous about choosing bold last year and fierce the year before that, and both words have been pivotal as I continue the process of becoming who I am.
I have no idea how this is all going to play out. This time next year, however, I have a feeling I just might be saying the same thing about humble.
♥ Lois
By the way, I know I’m a little late to the party, but if you’ve chosen a word for 2019, I’d love to know what it is (and maybe even why you chose it).
Others above self. That’s a tall order, for sure. Share on X A humble person doesn’t put her comfort level, her routine or her preferences ahead of anyone else’s. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, Let’s Have Coffee, Faith on Fire, Faith ‘n Friends and Grace & Truth.