in God i (want to) trust

I trust God. I do. But I don't always live like I trust Him.

So I've been talking to Him about that lately. Because I want to trust, not just in theory or words or intention, but with my whole heart. I want to trust His everything with my everything.

I started listing out the things I have the hardest time trusting Him with. But He interrupted me. And with His perfectly simple statement, He summed it all up:

"Trust Me in this --- what I say about Myself and what I say about you."

His words got my attention. It's true---Since I don't trust who He says He is, I can't trust who He says I am. And those two foundational things are at the very core of all I need to work through in my life.

It's time. I'm being intentional about growing in those areas of trust.

Because I don't want to just say I trust Him. I want my life to actually show that I do.

when i walk through the fire

For the past few months, I've been stuck on the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. I'm sure you've heard it. They were thrown into a fiery furnace because they refused to bow before the king's idol. And they lived to tell about it. My favorite part of the story has always been their pre-furnace faith. When told about their punishment, their response was, "The God we serve is able to save us from it... but even if He does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up." I've always wanted my life to be marked with such deep conviction, with such resolute faith.

In many ways, I've been in my own personal fiery furnace for the past year. So lately, as I've camped out in this story, I've paid more attention than usual to what happened after they made their bold confession of faith.

The Bible tells us that the three Jewish boys were tossed into the furnace firmly tied. But the king saw them walking around the fire unbound and unharmed. I smile every time I see that phrase. Because it seems to me it's just another way of saying "nothing missing, nothing broken"---God's promise of wholeness and completion. My heart's prayer is that I would be seen walking through my personal fire unbound and unharmed.

Even better than them being protected from the flames, is the fact that they weren't alone. A fourth man was seen walking with them in the midst of the fire. I so want Jesus to be visible in this with me. I don't want to do it in my own strength. I can't do it in my own strength. I need Him, and I want it to be so clear, even to others, that He is right here with me. I think the evidence that He is walking me through this, will need to be in my words, actions, and character.

When the Hebrew boys were brought out of the fire, not a hair on their heads was singed. Their clothes weren't burned. They didn't even smell like smoke. That gives me chills. And it gives me hope. I'm praying that my heart won't be blackened by the soot of bitterness, that my soul won't be darkened by the ash of unforgiveness. I want to come out the other side of this without even the smell of smoke on me.

When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. -Isaiah 43:2

the only kind of camping i like

I've been camping in I Corinthians 1:8-10 the past few days---

"We were crushed and overwhelmed beyond our ability to endure, and we thought we would never live through it. In fact, we expected to die. But as a result, we stopped relying on ourselves and learned to rely only on God, who raises the dead. And He did rescue us from mortal danger, and He will rescue us again. We have placed our confidence in Him, and He will continue to rescue us."

I feel the same as Paul did---crushed and overwhelmed. Sometimes I feel like I can't go on, and I can't imagine how I'm going to live through this. But the good great best news is that I can rely on the God who breathes life back into dead, dry bones. Even mine.

I hear Paul strengthening himself in the Lord in the last two sentences of that passage. I can just feel his faith rising as he reminds both his readers and himself that God did rescue him, will rescue him, and will continue to rescue him.

I'm glad I'm not the only one who has to remind herself of the truth. Over and over and over. And it's reassuring to think that as I do, maybe, eventually, others will see and hear my faith rising. And somehow that will strengthen their own faith, too.

Just like mine was strengthened by seeing Paul's.

: :

Where are you camping? What are some verses your heart is stuck on this week?

the waiting room

We just finished a series called The Waiting Room at my church. Wait a minute. I need to sidebar for a moment. Did you hear what I just said? "My church"!? I haven't said that phrase in a very long time. Aside from our humble "services" as a ministry family, I haven't been a part of a church I could call my own since I graduated high school. (Ages ago!) And my life has revolved around leading ministry events, not just participating in them. After over a decade on the mission field, to soak in corporate worship that I had nothing to do with running behind the scenes... you just can't put a pricetag on that.

I digress.

Back to The Waiting Room. The messages were so good and so timely for me. Here are a few thoughts I scribbled down ---

• I want to be more overwhelmed by God than by my circumstances. But that won't simply happen on its own.

• Do I love the Promiser more than the promise?

• When what I'm waiting for becomes what I'm hoping in, I will be disappointed. Every time. Even when I get what I want.

• My God is faithful, His words are true, and His ways are just. My hope should only be in Him.

• What would change in how I think, talk, and act if I were fully confident that this season isn't so much about waiting as it is about God preparing me for the next chapter?

Are you in a season of waiting? For what?

Digging deeper, how 'bout the question in the last bullet-point?

digging ditches

The king of Israel, along with the armies and animals that accompanied him, had run out of water. So he sought Elisha's help. The prophet spoke the words God told him to say---

"Dig ditches all over this valley. Here's what will happen---you won't hear the wind, you won't see the rain, but this valley is going to fill up with water and your army and your animals will drink their fill. This is easy for God to do."

His words still ring true for me today. My situation is different. But my God is the same.

I've dug my share of ditches, seeing neither wind nor rain. I've stepped out in faith with only the promise---and no proof---of deliverance.

It's not only risky, it's back-breakingly hard.

But every mighty move of God in my life has required an act of faith.

So I am digging this valley full of ditches. Again. And though I don't feel the wind or see storm clouds building, I'm praising Him for the rainfall of restoration that is coming.

Because this is easy for God to do.

my storm

Right now I’m still in the middle of the storm at sea. Sometimes I forget Jesus’ promise of going to the other side. Sometimes it feels like my sleeping Savior has left me to get through this on my own. Sometimes He has to rebuke my lack of faith. Sometimes He brings momentary calm to the storm with His resounding, “Peace, be still.” Other times, He brings calm to my heart with those same words. Sometimes I curl up on His lap, figuring if the storm is “small” enough for Him to sleep through, why can’t I? Sometimes I yell at Him instead of the wind and waves. Sometimes I look around for peace, forgetting that the Prince of Peace is right next to me all along. Sometimes I find contentment, knowing He is with me in the worst storm of my life. Other times I just want Him to stop it all and let me off the boat.

I am often that person James describes as being tossed by the wind and waves because of unbelief. Which means I’m adding to my own storm. Ouch.

I want to believe even when I can’t see Him because my eyes are blinded by the driving rain. I want to trust even when I can’t hear Him because of the thunderous cracks of lightning hitting all around me. I want to stand firm even when everything is moving beneath my feet.

"Soaked, but hopeful." I can't wait to get there.

In the meantime, I want to remain steadfast in the storm.

i call God a liar

When I don't believe God, I'm calling Him a liar. And though I really don't want to do that, I often do. I call Him a liar by my actions and attitudes that reflect more doubt than faith.

I'm sorry, Lord.

Doubt grows where faith has worn thin.

I know there are places in my heart where I need to be intentional about strengthening my faith, because it's begun eroding away. And doubt's started to grow.

I want my life to be marked more by faith than by doubt. To reflect unswerving belief in my illogical God.

Lord, I want to believe You. Help me overcome my unbelief.

buried treasure

You know all of Jesus' "the Kingdom of Heaven is like..." talks? I've heard them a lot, so sometimes I stop hearing them. (Know what I mean?) But a while ago I saw one of them in a new light. I was reading about the guy who found the treasure in the field. "The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field."

I've read that passage quite a few times in my lifetime, but this time I saw something I've never seen before.

The man found the treasure and then hid it again.

For the first time, I asked myself why he didn't just take it. Selling his stuff and buying the field proved the value the treasure had to him. It was worth more than petty larceny. It was worth all he had, and his actions demonstrated that very fact.

Yes, he could have just pocketed the treasure---could've walked off with it and no one would've known. But he decided it was worth more than that. Worth so much, in fact, that he hid it again, went and sold all his belongings, and then came back and bought the field.

He didn't buy the field for the field's sake. He bought it for the sake of the treasure. The field only had value because of the treasure it held.

Similarly, I have value because of the treasure I hold---Christ in me, the hope of glory.

Every single day, the treasure of Christ is freely mine for the embracing. But if I truly value that gift, I will sacrifice to lay hold of it. To lay hold of Him.

Too many days I just pocket the treasure. Or worse, I leave it buried.

Today I want to let my life show the value I place on the treasure that is Christ.

You?

fight the fear

Just because I believe it's possible to genuinely know someone on a deep level, doesn't mean it comes easily for me. I've been hurt profoundly, often by those I've held closest, so trust is a real battle. It's really a fight against fear. Fear of being rejected. Walked out on. Fear of being a disappointment. A failure. Fear of someone better coming along. Of being more replaceable than keepable. Fear of being lied to. Used. Patronized. Fear of not being enough.

Yeah, it's a battle.

But it's one I've chosen to continue to fight. I haven't given up in defeat, shrugging as I walk away mumbling that trust just isn't worth it.

Trust is worth it. That's why I continue to fight for it. Even when it's hard.

In the wake of very deep hurts, I've still given my heart and bared the real me to my closest friends. I've remained vulnerable and exposed. Sometimes it takes more conscious effort and intentionality than others, but I've worked hard to not retreat into myself at the time when I need others the most.

It's true that the deeper the vulnerability, the greater the potential for hurt. But I also know this much is true: The bigger the risk of trust, the stronger the love and intimacy that grows there.

And that alone makes the battle worthwhile.

authentic authenticity

"You just never really know a person, do you?" I've heard that from a few different people lately. I understand the shock when a person ends up being nothing like I expected. I get the hurt when someone I know well turns out to be very different from how I knew him to be. I comprehend the disbelief when someone I hold close proves to be nothing like I thought. It makes me question everything, myself included.

Why did he change so drastically? Or was he always like this and I just didn't realize? I guess I really didn't know her as well as I thought I did.

I completely get the painful bewilderment when you're hit with the reality that you never really knew someone.

But I'm not sure I'm ready to concede that I can never truly know a person.

Maybe it's my naivety or my blind hope, but I have to hold onto my trust in authenticity. And transparency. And intimacy. I have to trust that those I know best and who I consider to know me best, aren't leading me on. That they are being genuine; that they are giving me the real them just as I give them the real me. I have to trust that I can really know a person. Deep-down, hearts-connected, honest-to-goodness, truly know someone.

I desire to be known in that way, and I desire to know others on that level. And I refuse to believe that intimacy is only a sandcastle waiting for a wave to erase it from the shoreline. Some things just have to be real.

What about you? Do you think you can ever really know a person?

peace, be still

Peace.

I want more of it. I crave it actually.

I love the verse that says, “For He Himself is our peace…” So praying for more peace in my life means praying for more of Him in my life.

Yes please.

I think often of the storm at sea in Mark 4, and how Jesus quieted it with His command: “Peace! Be still!” Jesus spoke peace, but peace was already there. Because He is peace.

With Jesus in the boat, the disciples already had peace in the middle of the storm. But they wanted peace without the storm. And Jesus gave that to them; He calmed the wind and waves. But then He looked at them and said, “Don't you have any faith at all?"

Woah.

Maybe He was telling them that faith doesn't mean trusting for miraculous rescue from the storm. But rather it means enduring the storm, knowing that Peace is right there with them.

Maybe He's telling me the same thing.

one word

Holla!

i saw esau in me

I can scoff at the foolishness of Esau, who sold his inheritance for a meal. But I often trade what God has for me for equally frivolous things. Pleasure. Safety. Control. Immediacy.

Ugh.

Lord, I want to hold out for what You've promised. For it is always better than whatever else I may choose.

little by little

My heart's been stuck for a while on my need to better grasp God's truth. I've been working hard to recognize my own lenses and replace them with the filter of His Word. I battle daily to see myself the way He sees me, instead of how others do or---worse---how I do. I am being intentional about exchanging the lies I believe for the truth of God, and choosing to live based on truth rather than reality. It's a process. A journey. And a lifelong one at that.

It's slow-going.

But I'm taking steps forward.

I find it hard to remember that baby steps are progress. But I know they are. I know that "little by little" is more than just okay.

At times, it's exactly what God wants from me.

my eyes need to adjust

Jesus tells me that when I abide in His Word, I will know the truth, and then I will be set free. Abiding is not a quick fix. It means dwelling. Living. Setting up camp. Being content to linger. It means staying there until I know the truth. I picture it to be like when I step out of a dark room into the bright sunshine. My eyes can't take it. I have to keep them closed a while. Then I can open them, just slightly at first, and peer out of squinted eyes with a hand providing some shade. It feels painful and undesirable, but then... my eyes adjust. I can move my hand away. I can open my eyes fully. And I can see clearly.

Similarly, I need my eyesight to adjust to His truth. And that can only come from abiding in His Word until I know the truth deep down inside.

What truth of God do you need to abide in until your eyes adjust?

go home seeing

Jesus smeared mud, moist with His spit, on the man's eyes. And the man, blind since birth, came home seeing. I want to have the same effect on people. I want my words, actions, and very life to send them on their way seeing Him more clearly.

Sometimes, though, I cloud, rather than clarify, people's vision. When I don't reflect Christ well, I make it harder for them to see Him.

I need to remember that it wasn't the mud that made the difference for the man born blind. It was Jesus' spit.

When what comes out of me matches what comes out of Him, only then will people go home seeing.

real v. true

One of the biggest things I've learned in recent months is this: Just because something is real, doesn't mean it's true.

When what is real---what's happening to me or around me---contradicts what is true---what God says about me or my circumstances---I have a decision to make. I need to choose on which I'm going to base my thoughts, decisions, and actions. How I respond in that moment reflects which I believe more, what's real or what's true .

More than I'd like to admit, my life shows that I believe in reality more than truth.

I'm working on changing that.

How does this play out in your own life?

i choose hard

I only pretend to be brave. I've been known to say that. A lot. But a friend helped me see how untrue that really is.

For as long as I can remember, I've desired to follow God courageously. While I've never been very self-assured or confident, I've often made decisions that fly in the face of all logic. I've chosen not to play it safe.

I've always known that God's called me to hard. I knew it when this suburban girl spent two months in rural Africa as a teenager and loved it. I knew it when my passion to return there seemed illogical to everyone else. I don't like extreme temperatures, bugs, or even the outdoors... and yet I wanted to live in Africa!? It didn't make sense; it still doesn't.

My own pastor told me that being a missionary was the worst thing I could do with my life. And yet, at 19, I up and moved to Africa. I've been told over and over again that I'm too young, not educated enough, lacking experience. But I've shrugged it off and just kept right on going.

I've chosen hard over safe.

And if that's not brave, I don't know what is.

I don't say that to pat myself on the back. I say it simply to acknowledge the truth that I've exhibited more courage than I ever realized.

I needed to discover that about myself. Because as difficult as this past season has been for me, this next one isn't going to be any easier. And seeing past courage more clearly helps steel my heart for what lies ahead.

Once again, I choose hard.

And even though I still don't feel brave, I'm gonna do it afraid.

And trust that He will be faithful to carry me through it.

Just like He always has.

i know it by heart

When I was young, I often said "I know that by heart." Phone numbers and time tables. Scripture verses and history facts. Capital cities. My friends' favorite things. The periodic table of elements. Songs. I knew a lot of things by heart. If I used the phrase today, it would speak less of facts memorized and more of a perceived sense of knowing. Sometimes I can't find words for what I know or how I know it or why I feel a certain way. It's beyond intuition. God's graced me with discernment.

Some things I just know by heart.

It can be bittersweet at times. When something seems painfully obvious to me and others don't see it, or when I just know what others deny to be true, it can feel like my discernment is a curse. A weight. But even when it's heavy, I am grateful for it.

I want my heart to be more in tune with Him tomorrow than it is today. I want to remain sensitive, soft, and open to Him. I want to hear His Spirit's whispers more clearly. I want to have even greater discernment.

So I've started praying the words of the Psalmist---

"I am Your servant; give me discernment that I may understand Your statutes."

Because there's a whole lot more I want to know by heart.

control

I don't have control over my circumstances. But I do have control over myself.

What will I do with it today?