it's unavoidable

I've always loved the story of the woman with the issue of blood. It vividly reminds me that God is passionate about healing my heart and not just my body. Reading through that passage in Mark again recently, I noticed something new. Or rather, I saw something familiar in a completely different way.

The woman pressed through the crowd on her hands and knees to get to Jesus. She reached out and grabbed the hem of His garment, and in that moment she was instantly healed.

And in that moment, Jesus felt power go out of Him.

That's what made Him stop and look for the one who touched Him. That's what prompted the dialogue that brought healing to her heart. That's when He looked her in the eyes and called her "Daughter".

I'd never thought too much about that moment for Jesus, until now.

There He was... Walking with a synagogue ruler as a large crowd pressed all around Him... It was noisy and busy and... Suddenly He felt something...

He felt power go out of Him as soon as she touched Him.

It's unavoidable: Ministry is draining.

If Jesus felt the effects of it, I sure as heck will.

Serving others, speaking God's truth, and sharing our lives, tires us out. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. We feel it when we spend ourselves for others.

Even when we are doing what we love.

Maybe even more so when we are doing what we love. Because then we have to force ourselves to take a break.

At least I do.

I've been going non-stop for months now---doing exactly what I love doing. And I've felt the "power" go out of me in every way possible. I'm exhausted inside and out. So I'm taking some much-needed time off.

My heart is so looking forward to this selah.

I need to start paying more attention to what (and who) drains me, as well as what (and who) refuels me. I need to be more intentional about creating margin in my schedule and my life.

I want to be more proactive about letting Him fill me up than I am about sharing Him with others.

Maybe that sounds backwards or selfish. I just know that when I'm not overflowing, I really don't have much to give anyway.

So I'm taking some time for me. (Which, I should point out, is never an easy thing for me to do.)

But I know it's needed. And I know it's right.

Selah, friends. Selah.

What does "selah" look like to your heart? What and who refuels you?

my broken cisterns

My sin takes on a variety of shapes, but all of it basically boils down to two things... the same two things the people of Israel continually struggled with--- "My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken Me, the spring of Living Water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water."

I sin by not trusting God.

I forsake Him. I deny not only His power, but His heart. I turn away, shift my gaze, seek other things. I make an after-thought of the One who should be my first priority. I question if He really has my good in mind. I lose sight of who He is by focusing on what He can do for me (or on what He doesn't seem to be doing for me). I try to find life apart from Him.

I sin by trusting myself instead.

I dig my own wells, even though they are insufficient and faulty. I live as though I can do a better job of protecting my heart, fixing my situation, and meeting my needs than God can. I surrender, but take it back again. I attempt to control which way I should go and how quickly I should get there. I take matters into my own hands. I try to find life on my own.

When I dig my own wells, I always come up thirsty.

The water keeps rushing out through the cracked walls, leaving me dry and empty.

The bitter taste of self-sufficiency doesn't satisfy, yet I'm left craving more. I drink and drink and drink, but feel more parched with each sip.

He alone is the spring of Living Water. And trying to save up for a dry day is just my own feeble attempt to work things out on my own.

It's time to abandon my broken cisterns and drink deeply from the life-giving spring of His heart...

He is more than enough for me.

the God of Gideon

"Go in the strength you have..." That's what God told Gideon. And that's what He tells me.

Every single day.

He doesn't tell me to muster up more strength. He doesn't pat me on the back and say, "Good luck with that!" And He doesn't say I should just buck it up and keep going.

He says He's given me exactly enough strength for exactly what my day holds. No matter what.

I have everything I need to face today.

So here I go.

Are you coming?

four-minute friday: light and fluffy

Go. I wanted to four-minute about something light and fluffy. Mostly because I'm wiped out and don't have energy for anything of substance. Besides, it's Friday! We can all do with some extra light and fluffy in our day.

But all I keep hearing in my head is the little girl on "Despicable Me": "It's so fluffy I'm gonna die!"

Have you seen it yet? It's cute. And 3-D. And that whole fluffy-unicorn bit is hilarious. Seriously. Watch the clip. You'll find yourself repeating "It's so fluffy!" in that creepy funny voice of hers.

Cracks me up every single time!

Anyway...  Clearly in need of blogging assistance, I sent out a tweet asking for light and fluffy post ideas. What did I get back?

Marshmallows. Angel food cake. Cotton candy. Whip cream.

Y'all are one hungry bunch. You fit right in around here! Ha.

So now we ended up with four minutes of basically nothing. Just like how cotton candy melts away into nothingness in your mouth. Minus the sugar high.

Oh geez. This is going downhill fast.

Calling it quits. And calling on you to tell me something light and fluffy...

Ready? Go!

Done.

i've had enough

I'm still camping out in the story of Elijah. Maybe because I see so much of myself in him. Not in his prophetic voice or powerful miracles, but in his crash-and-burn. Remember his showdown with the prophets of Baal? God showed up in a huge way, making it very obvious that He is the one true God and that Elijah is His. If ever Elijah was on a spiritual high, this was it.

And then he crashed and burned.

When Jezebel made threats against his life, Elijah forgot about the great victory God just brought him. He collapsed to the ground in despair, raised his eyes to the heavens, and shouted, "I have had enough, Lord. Take my life!"

Been there? I have. Plenty of times.

I can move from victory to defeat in an instant. It all rushes in and I feel like I just can't take anymore.

I gotta admit, I'm kind of relieved I'm not the only one with irrational mood swings, desperate prayers for God to take me, and the overwhelming sense of "I've had enough!"

At least I have this one thing in common with Elijah.

The story goes on and I'm intrigued by all that happens next, because it shows how he dealt with his funk. And I need to know how to deal with mine. [If you want to read through it later, it's in 1 Kings 19:1-13.]

Elijah slept. A lot. I know I need rest, although I often feel guilty over making that need a priority.

An angel provided bread and water for him. I'm taking stock of God's provision of those people, places, and things that refresh and revive me from the inside out. I need to surround myself with them more often than I do.

He slept, ate, and drank. Again. Lather, rinse, repeat. Just once isn't enough.

"Nourished by that meal, he walked forty days and nights, all the way to the mountain of God." Elijah was still in his funk, but he walked on. I need to simply keep putting one foot in front of the other, even when my heart says "I've had enough" with every single step.

"When he got there, he crawled into a cave and went to sleep." God knew I'd need to hear this again! Slowly getting the message...

He encountered the still, small voice of God. One by one a wind, earthquake, and fire ripped through the mountain. But God was not in them. "And after the fire came a gentle whisper..." Those quiet words were more powerful in Elijah's heart than any mighty prophecy God had spoken through him.

At the end of the day, God reaches through my funk and with His peaceful, gentle voice, reassures my heart that He is trustworthy.

He lovingly reminds me that He is in control. That His grace is sufficient. And that He gives strength to the weary.

His more-than-enough-ness makes up for my had-enough-ness.

Over and over again.