Arise Ministries Collective

equipping the saints, teaching God's Word, sharing the Gospel of Jesus, meeting practical needs, loving extravagantly

How to Study the Bible – The SOAP Method

A Rough First Outing

I wish I could say that I instantly fell in love with reading the Bible. I actually found much frustration while digging into Scripture the first time. 

I was a thirteen-year-old boy heading off to my first winter camp, with a youth group I had just begun attending. I anxiously asked my parents to buy me a Bible, but not just any Bible, a “black leather Bible with the letters ‘NIV’ on the side”. Now, I wish I could say that I described it with the same passion as Ralphie, from A Christmas Story, requesting “a Red Ryder carbine action two-hundred shot range model air rifle”. But I didn’t. My request was fueled in part by a curiosity about Christianity but mainly out of fear of being the only kid at Bible camp without a Bible. I knew nothing of the contents inside the book. I just knew what it was supposed to look like on the outside.  

I remember feeling the same about my first personal quiet time with God. The camp leaders taught us that “personal quiet time” is a term used to describe the time you sit down with the Bible and study it. There was a brief teaching on how to do one, but it might as well have been in a foreign language, because I left more confused than before. That wasn’t going to deter me from doing my first quiet time! However, my enthusiasm quickly changed to frustration and my curiosity was overshadowed by a sense of feeling overwhelmed and in over my head. I was frustrated as I discovered the Bible was not just one book but actually a collection of sixty-six books, numbering over a thousand pages. Questions began rolling around in my head: 

Where was I to begin?

Do Christians really read the whole Bible?

How do all these books fit together?

And, why are all these names so hard to pronounce? 

Disappointed, I looked around for clues of what to look like on the outside, but I had no idea what was supposed to be going on internally. Unfortunately, this was my approach to reading the Bible all throughout middle school.

Be Refreshed, Be Dangerous

I believe it’s easy to get lost in the noise of what studying the Bible is “supposed to” look like. Scrolling through my social media feeds, I often see a picturesque scene of my friend’s personal quiet setting: complete with coffee mug, Bible, journal (opened to a non-vulnerable page of course) in a naturally lit room on some sort of wood-grained or neat surface. Meanwhile, my reality finds me sitting in an office (under fluorescent lights) scribbling in a journal on my messy desk. It’s good because it works for me in the same way different settings work for others.  

This is my encouragement to you today. Be fueled by the internal transformation that personal time with God through Scripture promises to bring (Isaiah 55:11, in fact just read all of 55, it’s a good one!) and less about what it’s supposed to look like externally. There are many ways to do a quiet time, including the one you will find below, but the trick is and, the heart behind Arise, is that you would find one that works for you. One that leaves you refreshed from time with our Heavenly Father. One that is as dangerous to the enemy as Ralphie wielding his Red Ryder BB gun. 

Soap Like Never Before

Most mornings my routine involves toothpaste, Mango Strawberry Spark, and soap. I was introduced to soap in my twenties, and I have loved how easy it is to use. I use soap at my office to help focus my day, but you could really use it anywhere: the coffee shop, the park, or while your kids are getting a haircut.

I should clarify, I’m not talking about the cleansing agent but the way of approaching Scripture. Soap stands for Scripture, Observation, Application, and Prayer. I joked earlier, but it really is an easy way to approach reading the Bible. As a middle school pastor, it’s hard to get out of the “studying to teach” aspect of reading Scripture, even in my personal devotion time.  Soap helps me see the section of Scripture, within its context, and apply it to my life personally.

How to use SOAP

Scripture – 

Spend time in prayer before you begin. Ask the Holy Spirit to guide your time. Ask God to illuminate the words for today. Write down the passage(s) that stood out to you today. Be specific. Don’t write down too much. There is something about writing out Scripture that seems more engaging. It’s a discipline that requires commitment, not beautiful penmanship.  

Observation – 

Write out repeating words, look up words you don’t know, describe events happening in and around the text, 

What is God showing you from this passage?  

  • Is He communicating something about Himself?
  • Does this passage speak to your identity in Christ?
  • Are there any foundational truths?

Finish this section with a quick summary of the one thing God is speaking to you through this Scripture. Make sure to keep this thought consistent with the rest of Scripture.

Application – (1 Peter 1:7; James 1:12)

Get personal. Remember, this is your time with God. If you can’t be real with Him, you’re not being real with yourself. How does your observation impact your life? Does God have instruction for you today?

Prayer – 

Prayer is a two-way conversation with God. As you pray leave time for God to place things on your heart. When you do this, you leave room for God to validate the things He spoke to you during Scripture. Pray a specific prayer about the thing that has been revealed to you today. Lastly, write out your prayer.

Here’s the key to using SOAP: Commit to it for thirty days. By doing this you will see themes from your own life and things that you key in on that might give you insight into the beautiful person God has created.

And remember SOAP because BODY WASH is too long to recall.

(Download the SOAP Study Method Resource here)

(Download the SOAP Study Method Worksheet here)

Another Tool to Try

One last resource that I want to pass along. It’s called the Dwell App and it has become a staple in my routine. Dwell is strictly a Bible listening app on iPhone that will be coming to Android devices in the Spring of 2019. From their website: “Dwell offers the most beautiful listening experience for the most important and cherished book in our world’s history: the Bible.”

The team at Dwell desires to take the 21st Century Christian back to the time when the letters found in the Bible were read aloud to a listening audience. 

As a middle school pastor, it’s hard for me to personally detach from reading for the purpose of teaching. Dwell has taken me back to allowing Scripture to be read for the purposes of listening to it. For me personally, Scripture has come alive again in a beautiful way.

Dwell URL: https://dwellapp.io

 

 

About the author, Rob Williams: Son of God. Husband to my wife, Sara, an amazing lady (Seriously, I married up). Father to two wonderful children, Bailey and Boden. And a middle school pastor at Summit View Church in Vancouver, WA. 

I enjoy being active and outside. If it involves a ball, chances are I’ve played it. I love the Pacific Northwest and the abundance of hiking trails within an hour’s drive. My drive is to equip and empower middle school students through the Holy Spirit to be a “this generation” and to dispel the myth that they are the next generation. 

Unchained and Uninhibited

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”

2 Corinthians 5:17 ESV

 

I have been thinking a lot about my Great Grandma Marge lately. I have a couple pictures of her tucked away in my room, a daily reminder of the gift she was to me. She and I were thick as thieves.

 

I loved being in her presence and her home.

 

As a child, I referred to her as Grandma Great, and that name stuck with her for the rest of her life. She was great indeed. The very best.  Grandma Great’s house looked like a white cottage out of a Disney movie. We would pull up in our station wagon, I would jump out and run inside her house. There was always a crystal china bowl full of Whoppers waiting for me on the kitchen counter, right next to her nintendo – her Nintendo, that she loved to play. Gosh, I love her for that.

 

Her home was cozy – shag carpet, wood paneling and velvety chairs. When I was there I just wanted to sink in. It felt safe and warm. She had a wooden end table in her living room where she kept Pacman consoles and other gadgets and games. There was plenty to do in her home. She had a small electric organ that we would play on for hours, just creatively composing our own music. The best place in her house was the attic. It was a treasure chest of well organized belongings from many different eras of her life. I remember there being an abundance of plastic fruit up there. It looked so real that I was fascinated by it. I loved exploring up there.

 

When we were at Grandma Great’s I always got to have sleepovers with her. It was the very best. Every night she went to bed in cotton night gowns, with a little bit of lace around the trim. She had permed gray and white curls that beautifully contrasted her stunning olive complexion. She was witty, the most hilarious and spicy woman I’ve ever known. She loved to laugh. Even into my adult years she  would poke me with her crooked, arthritic, pointer finger to get a rise out of me. I never once questioned or doubted her love for me. She told me that she loved me every time we said goodnight and goodbye. I would wake up in the morning to the view of her soft wrinkly face. Her mouth usually hung open as she snored away. She was such a snorer but I didn’t even mind.

 

Grandma Great was a gamer. It was tradition to have several Rummy tournaments every time we visited. She would plate her homemade rocky road candy and divinity fudge –  once the candy was out, we knew it was ‘time to get the pants whooped off ya’, as she would say. She included me in the game from as young as I can remember. Whether I was perched right next to her or playing a hand of my own, I always felt welcome and a part of the fun. She would get SO riled up playing cards. If she was playing, everyone wanted a seat at the table. I have several times witnessed her jumping out of her seat to smack someone’s hand when they were taking a card she wanted. It was the same every time, squeals, a yelp and slapping followed by bellowing laughter all around.  If it happened to be a card she had been waiting a long time for, you better believe you would find that crooked pointer finger right in your face, wagging away as she told you off in her own threatening but hysterical way. She was always quick to smile and her dancing black eyes were snappy and bright. She loved to laugh but at the end of the day, she would fight you for an Ace. No one doubted for a second that if a fight broke out she would win – feisty thing.

 

I had sleepovers with Grandma Great into adulthood. When David was out of town I would bring Elijah over and we would cozy in for the night. We had a routine together –  our favorite instant french vanilla coffee (which I only drank with her, because I am actually a coffee snob, but she could make even instant coffee a treat – go figure!?), Jeopardy and Wheel of Fortune, followed by Dateline and then bed. One of my funniest memories of her was at three in the morning, I woke up to find her hopping around the room on one foot yelling, “oooooh, oooooo, ooooh!!!!!!” through bouts of laughter, while holding her other foot mid air. She had a cramp in her foot. We laughed so hard we both were crying and eventually she was able to get back in bed and go to sleep. On one of those sleepover nights I took her trick or treating for the first time in her life. she fell over a potted plant in the dark and skinned her knee and elbow, we just about died laughing… (clearly, I got my calamitous gene from her). She did get candy out of the ordeal so I think it was worth it. We were quite mischievous together – no one made me laugh more than she did when we were stirring up trouble or mid – shenanigan.

 

She was always honest. You never had to wonder what she was thinking – she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. She usually followed everything up with either humor or a sincere I love you. We talked about everything. She was always there for me – never judgey, just present and honest when she needed to be. I always felt unconditionally loved by her. In the last years I had with her, David and I would occasionally take her to church with us. We would sit in the back row and mid service she would always reach over and hold my hand. I loved holding her wrinkly, boney hand. Those quiet, more serious moments were few and far inbetween – I treasured them then and I still treasure them now.

 

Wherever she was there was joy.

 

She walked through every season clothed in strength and dignity and she laughed at the times to come and the moments she presently found herself in. She was the essence of joy and an extension of unconditional love rolled up in a ball of fire.

 

Grandma Great has been on my mind so much this season. Here is why. Her story is a powerful one. She is proof that our circumstances do not dictate or define who we are or who we will be. Her life story is also evidence that people change. Someone needs to hear that today. What if that was the framework with which we all went into this next year with?

 

Let 2019 stand all on it’s own in a new way. Let the aim of this year be: You and I, living out all we are called to be. Unchained and uninhibited – not letting the enemy use our circumstances, trials, and past to define us, but rather, propel us. Believing that Jesus is always at work, believing that Jesus has the power to change me – to change you – and to change that thorn in your flesh too. No one is too far out of the reach of the transformation power and love of the Father. Amen?!

 

My Great Grandma grew up in instability and poverty. She lived through the depression.  My Great Grandpa was a farmer and a Millwright at a cannery. Grandma Great took whatever job she could to supplement their income and provide for their three children – she picked berries, worked in the cannery too and was never too proud to work laborious jobs. She modeled that there is dignity in diligent, hard work. Their home was a one room shack. They lived without electricity or running water for the first three years and never had indoor plumbing. My Great Grandpa died at a young age leaving my Grandma Great even further acquainted with struggle, pain and loss.

 

My Grandma shared with me that in her childhood my Grandma Great was not very affectionate or generous with her words. She worked hard, “her fingers to the bone”, in her words. Grandma Great was matter of fact, no nonsense and got things done. It’s how she survived. My Grandma never even remembers her mother saying I love you as a child. They were a poor German farming family and even though she knew she was loved, she never heard it.

 

When my Grandma was an adult she intentionally and bravely told my Grandma Great that she loved her… and just kept doing so every time she spoke to her until Grandma Great felt comfortable enough to say it back. Through her love, my Grandma introduced my Great Grandma to Jesus.

 

Over time Grandma Great softened. To the point that when I came around I could not even imagine a brighter, more vibrant, kinder soul. She was still a hard worker, spicy and honary – but in it everything she exuded a love and a deep inner joy that made me want to be just like her. I never left her presence without her saying “I love you!” and smacking a wet kiss on my cheek.

 

Grandma Great still experienced sorrow and great loss over the years. She buried a second husband, was a breast cancer survivor, lost a grandson in an accident, a granddaughter, a great granddaughter to cancer, and even had bury one of her own sons. She experienced a lot of life. Through it all she only became more beautiful. Nothing about her circumstance defined who she was. God made a way for in her wilderness. He brought rivers of joy into a lifetime of hardship. Even in her old age – He was always at work, doing a new thing.

 

His love defined her life.

 

  • We are never too far off for His presence, power and love to reach us. Psalm 139

 

  • We are never too young to be transformed by Him and effective in His Kingdom. 1 Timothy 4:6-16 (especially verse 12)

 

  • We will never be too old for Him to change us in eternal ways. Hebrews 11 (Many of the greats were ancient!)

 

He has new and beautiful things for each of is in 2019. Are you ready for it?

 

“Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.”

Isaiah 43:19 ESV

 

Hope Rising – Indonesia Trip Part 1

We walked along the beaten down and dusty, narrow path. Garbage was scattered along the way and plates of fermenting rice were set out in front of several of the cinder block and brick buildings.

We turned the corner and continued our journey to Center One. School had just gotten out and children, all sporting camouflage uniforms, were getting rides home from school in open air vans and also on the backs of what seemed to be about a thousand motorcycles. The traffic was absolute mayhem. Every time a van drove past us, all of the children on board began to squeal and yell, “HALLO!” while waving enthusiastically. I suppose they don’t see Americans very often. I would wave back and smile, our eyes would lock for a moment and there was nothing but joy in the exchange.

We passed a couple of restaurants, a market and an empty parking lot –  where a small entrance to the graveyard was visible at the end of a brick wall. I had heard of this graveyard a few years back. From the first time I heard of it, my heart leapt out of my chest – volunteering itself in a way I could not even begin explain. I haven’t had many moments like that in my life. My life is full, I am very content, I sometimes even feel overextended by the everyday ministry opportunities that the Lord has entrusted to me – I am not the kind of person who is always in search for something more. However, the moment I heard of this graveyard, something stirred in my soul that I couldn’t deny was the Holy Spirit, and I just prayed right then and there, “Lord, if you want me there, I will be all in, but you will have to make the way.”

And He did.

It was honestly a miracle. Absolute proof that God is always behind the scenes at work, accomplishing His will. I did not pursue it – I never even contacted Compassion First. God orchestrated a meeting, a divine appointment, through a mutual friend two and a half years later. It just happened to be at the same time that Lisa and I were launching Arise Ministries Collective and God provided the opportunity for us to link arms with Compassion First this fall, on this trip. His timing is always perfect. It is an overwhelming and intimate experience of His love for me, that He would stir my heart at the mention of a place, hear my earnest prayer and part the seas for me. Now, here I was, staring at the graveyard through a small entryway in the distance. I knew that God had brought me to this place – that moment is etched in my heart and mind forever. There was nowhere in the world I would rather be. I was filled with a deep sense of purpose, honor and humility – that He would bring me in (in a very small way) to the beautiful, tangible kingdom work He is unfolding there.

We walked a little further and stood in front of Center One. It almost backs right up to the graveyard. It had once been a brothel, now fully redeemed in every sense of the word. It is currently an established safe place for children to come to play, learn, grow, dance, laugh and get help with their school work. That center is a beacon of light in the community. It has planted seeds of hope that are sprouting up all around. Hope is rising and everything around that graveyard is coming alive. 

Our team was made up of eight, and we all were honestly just so grateful to be there. You could sense it, it was palpable. We were all invested in the moment, making the most of every opportunity to be present. It was one of the most beautiful team dynamics one could have hoped for. After our tour of Center One we were divided up into two groups and we had the very great honor and privilege of visiting some of the homes that surrounded Yellow Flower.

We walked down the cobblestone streets, colorful cinder block houses on each side. Greeted over and over by warm and affectionate smiles on bright, joyful faces. We paused in front of a home with a long dark hallway from the street. It must have led to several homes. Clothing was strung up to dry the length of the hallway. As we were greeted by a few women, a tiny framed elderly women appeared out of the hallway. She stretched out her hand to greet me and when our eyes met, she squeezed my hand tight and wrapped her arm around my waist. The language barrier didn’t keep us from sharing a very precious moment. I held onto her while the rest of our team visited with the other women and children in the street. As everyone said goodbye and continued down the road, I hugged her close, and held her face in my hands for a moment. She started weeping and buried her face in my side. I stayed behind for a moment until she loosened her grasp. As I hugged her and said goodbye, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of that moment. What stirred that kind of vulnerability and emotion? Whatever it was, I knew I had fallen in love – not just with her, but with every single face I met along the way. Every time we met new people and went to a new place my heart expanded a thousand times.

Over the course of the next couple hours we were invited into some of the women’s homes. As we entered each home it felt like we were entering sacred ground. Each woman welcoming us into their space – where they lived their lives, held their children, slept as a family, ate their meals, did their homework, and watched TV. Their best, worst, most inspirational and most heartbreaking moments happened within those close four walls. And we were being invited in, to sit on a corner of the mattress on the floor, to be eye to eye – face to face, a warm and vulnerable invitation to friendship. I was so humbled by it, I have truly never felt more honored in my life to be invited into someone’s space.

As we went from house to house, we shook hands, hugged, and greeted each person. We prayed over a baby, over mothers, over homes and we all felt the weight of each moment. Every moment was precious and powerful – there was something holy and inescapable about the raw vulnerability and trust that they were generously extending with each invitation.

We headed back to Center One, a couple of us walked down the alley right past the Center and took in the sight before us. The graveyard. The vibe was harsh, cold and dreary. There was garbage scattered around and chickens scurrying about. It felt odd and dark. That was the first time I felt the weight of the darkness.

We cozied in at Center One for awhile as a crowd of children played games, circled up on the tile floor chatting with the staff, and practiced their dance routine. They were shy but curious and eager to connect with us. Their art work was strung up across the bright room, and they proudly pointed out which ones were their colorful masterpieces. Their big brown eyes followed us around the room, examining each of our expressions and movements.

At lunch time we left Center One to meet up with the rest of our team. We gained some beautiful and inquisitive followers. One girl ran up to me and wrapped her arms around mine, another gently slid her hand into my hand and we locked eyes, her expression was looking for permission to hold on and I squeezed her hand and smiled. We walked quite a ways arm in arm and hand in hand. The whole time I prayed protection over their small, innocent little frames – and provision for their future. They stuck by my side through main streets and alleys until our destination and then cozied up next to me on the floor. They whole time I prayed and prayed and prayed that He would be their shield, their hope, thier vision. That He would rescue them and alter the course of their lives in a radical way.

The thing about this place – the graveyard, and all the beautiful souls that live around it – is that you can’t be there and not be absolutely drawn in by the life, the joy, the vulnerability, the hope, the dignity, and the strength that is vibrantly encompassing each of those women and their children.

The other thing about the graveyard is this: many of the mothers, young and old, sell themselves in the graveyard at night for about 75 cents, as many times as it takes until they have made enough change to feed their children breakfast in the morning. What kind of love is that? It is a sacrificial, selfless, beautiful kind of love. A love that you can’t even begin to fathom or imagine unless it is your child that is starving. These women have dignity, they each have a name, and I got to hug their frames and hold their faces in my hands… I have never felt more honored in my life.

For many of the girls growing up in that place, that is their future.

You know what? I am boldly going to say, it would have been their future. Because, I believe that God is powerfully moving in that place, HOPE IS RISING. Dead bones, broken spirits, and hopeless hearts are coming alive. It is no longer just a graveyard – where women barely survive… it is a place where there is irrefutable evidence of the tangible resurrection power of Jesus weaving  life, hope and redemption into every part of their story. God is on the move in that place. What once was a generation’s fate is passing away and children and teens are beginning to dream of a different future. Dreams are coming to life and becoming reality. It is the most magnificent thing to witness.

The night that we said goodbye to all of our new friends, we had the honor of attending a banquet for them hosted by Compassion First. We dressed up, they were all in their very best and this was a night to truly celebrate them. Our friends prepared music, dance routines, and a magic show for the evening. It was a party!!! The grandest of parties – not even necessarily because of the venue or the program, but because of the beautiful of souls present. It is where everyone wanted to be in that very moment and it was essence of what a celebration should be.  I saw my sweet old lady friend from across the room. I linked arms with one of our translators and made my way to her. I stooped down so that we could be eye to eye. She remembered me and grasped onto one of my hands and cupped my cheek with her other hand. I leaned in and thanked her for being so generous with her kindness, love and affection. I told her that her kindness to me meant a great deal and that I would treasure it forever. Tears welled up in her eyes and she held my face with both of her hands as she shared with me that she had no children, no husband, no family. She was absolutely alone. I wrapped my arms around her and told her that I would pray for her. As she held my face she rubbed her tear drenched cheeks on mine, one side, then the other, over and over again as she silently wept. When she finished crying, I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight.

There was truly no where else in the entire world I would have rather been. When you have that kind of raw and uncensored moment with another human – face to face, heart to heart – time stands absolutely still and everything about your life shifts into a new perspective. In that sacred moment the only things that carried value and merit in my life were eternal kingdom things – everything else fell away. That is where I want to live my life now, I am forever ruined to settling for anything less in my everyday. 

This was my graveyard experience: I saw Jesus come alive in the darkness, I saw Him bend low and love lavishly in the messiness of life, I saw Him powerfully restore and redeem, I saw a people who had once felt unseen come to life… and it was glorious. I not only had a front row seat to the most beautiful and tangible form of hope stirring and breaking through the darkness there – I also experienced that hope rising up within the deepest part of my own soul as I looked into the beautiful faces of the women and children at Yellow Flower.

If home is where your heart is, I have two addresses now.

 

Leaning into God in the Desert

woman sitting in the desert

The Tears of Blessing

I was sitting in church, and before I knew they were coming, tears were rolling down my cheeks. As the worship team started singing, the tears began flowing. I didn’t even know why at first. It was like my heart knew what God was about to show me before my head did. As the verse turned into the chorus the tears kept flowing at a rate I could no longer sing along. I let the words wash over me as moments from the past four years flashed in my mind.

Some of the best things in my life have happened during the past few years. In the same bundle of blessings came the most confusing, difficult, questioning moments of my life.

In our first year of marriage, my husband Matt and I went to Nepal on a mission trip. While we were there, we both knew without question, that God had called us to adoption. Fast forward 8 years, and the Lord opened doors for us to add a little tiny Ethiopian girl to our family of 4.

We loved her before we ever met her, and two years later, we brought her home. As a 9-month-old babe, she had experienced more change and loss in her little life than most adults I know ever do. She amazed us with the ability to adapt to a new life with a family. 2 boys and a precious little girl, we were pretty certain our family was complete!

Three years later, in late 2013, we learned of a pair of infant twins in foster care who needed a forever family. God asked us if we were willing to go there with Him, again. In faith, that God would provide all we needed to parent 5 kids, we said “yes”.

In 2014 one-year-old twins join our family. They had arrived in the world at 25 weeks, micro preemies weighing in at under 2 lbs each. Medical needs, isolation that NICU life brings, foster care…they too had experienced an immense amount of loss and trauma in their first year. They brought a lot of laughs into our lives, and we grew more in love with them every day.

Unraveled

In the two years that followed, hands and heart full to overflowing, I found myself unraveled, broken & scattered. I loved each of my kids SO much. The trauma that my 3 kids from hard places had experienced, was beginning to rear its head in our lives. 4 out of my 5 kids have a lot of challenges day to day. Long days of intense and challenging behaviors undid me. Advocating for their needs was an everyday task. My energy levels were depleted, my brain fried, emotions raw. I felt like I might fall to pieces at any moment (and I did, often). My brain was full of questions.

Would I ever feel the same as I did before?

Would I ever be that girl I used to be again?

What had happened to me? Where did I lose myself?

Would I ever not feel totally exhausted?

Will I ever get through a day without losing it?

Would my kids ever become manageable?

Why did my friends with kids seem to handle life so much better than me?

And, the big one…Did God give this job to the wrong girl?

It was too big.

Too much.

Too heavy.

Too hard.

I would sit on my bed, in tears of guilt and disappointment in myself, telling Him, “Lord, I’m sorry. I don’t think I can do this well. I really thought I could, but I have nothing left.”

My sweet, encouraging, godly friends assured me, that God had not make a mistake. And, I really wanted to believe them. I begged God to strengthen me, restore me. I filled my calendar. I filled it with things that I thought would help me feel like we had it together, and I was doing something more meaningful than hanging on by a thread.

The Lord gently encouraged me to hang on; To keep trusting Him with my family through this hard and dark place. I was to keep believing that He called me to mother these particular kids and that even where I failed, He wouldn’t. I was reminded to keep spending time in His Word and let it revive me.

So, I did my best to keep putting one foot in front of the other, but I was frozen in my state of overwhelm. There was no white space on my calendar, and I had no capacity to process how to get unstuck.

#HELPME

In April 2017, I reached out a medical professional, because I was convinced I’d developed ADHD. I was in a fog. I couldn’t remember anything and was forever walking into a room and asking myself, “why did I come in here?”.  I asked my mom, “have I always been this way?” She assured me, while I’d always been a bit of a “free spirit” I did not struggle with focusing as a kid.

At my first appointment the “professional”, listened to me. She told me she believed I was experiencing secondary trauma. That the trauma my children had experienced affected them very deeply (which I knew).

She reminded me that the work of mending little broken hearts is physically demanding and that helping brains heal from trauma is heavy work. She told me what I already knew, but needed an outsider to say. She told me that my family had very unique needs and demands, and it was ok for our family’s version of thriving to look different than those around us. She encouraged me to clear space in my life for recovering and maintaining this life. She sent me on my way with some tools to make adjustments to my life. God used that conversation to empower me to make some very needed change.

Leaning In

In the months that followed, my “hang on” turned into “lean in”. I prayed for a lot of wisdom. I asked God to show me what things needed to stay, and what I needed to clear from my life. I asked him to show me how to say no to good things.

We needed more space in our life for thriving, for me and my family. I asked him to show me what was working for us and what was not. I kept leaning in, sitting in faith, that God was a good God, who loved me, loved my family and had good beautiful things in store for us. And He showed up. He gave us insight on what adjustments to make, and slowly, we began to stabilize.

It became clear to me, as I sat in church that Sunday, listening to that song with tears on my cheeks.

 

When I thought I lost me

You knew where I left me

You reintroduced me to your love

You picked up all my pieces

Put me back together

You are the defender of my heart

 

Right then, I realized it. He had done it! Little by little, in the past year, He had put me back together. I no longer felt the dark fog gripping me. I no longer felt unraveled by the end of every day. He had taken my efforts in faith, to make space, and he filled that new space with peace & beauty. Instead of the heaviness of comparison, I felt free to choose what’s best for my family & their needs. He helped me find myself, when I wasn’t sure I’d ever feel that way again.

 

All I did was praise

All I did was worship

All I did was bow down

All I did was stay still

 

Friend, if you are walking in a dark time, may I encourage you? Lean in. Lean into your faith in our good God. Ask Him to show you beauty in where you are. Keep offering Him your worship. Continue (or start) praying for strength & wisdom. Give Him your heart & your time. It will not be worthless. He has shown himself over and over in scripture, to be faithful, and that He does what He says He will do. His Word reveals that He has everlasting kindness toward us. He sees us.

 

HE LOVES US.

So much, in fact, that He did not leave it up to us to save ourselves but sent His one and only beloved Son to save us.

Not a Fairy Tale

My life has not miraculously become an overnight fairy tale. My kids still have hard stories. Advocating is still daily work. Behaviors are still intense and needs are high. It’s a daily fight to walk humbly in faith that my assignment from Him is right. However, I’m no longer stuck in the fog of overwhelm and I’m free to make choices that help us thrive, instead of being driven by an overloaded calendar that did not serve me or my family well.

I have found that my own plans work best when I live within the limitations and strengths of my own personality and make plans that suit my particular circumstances. I am not like others; my family has different parameters of need. I am quite free to do what is best for us when I plan for our family to flourish with all of our uniqueness in mind.

― Sally Clarkson, The Life Giving Home

When I asked the Lord to put me back together and was faithful to make room for Him to work, He did. He gave me the wisdom to see where I could make changes. I learned to not fight against our unique needs by forcing my plans for what I thought would make our life meaningful. Instead, I found beauty in embracing them and creating space in our life and home to serve our needs well. I had felt lost in the fight, but He never lost track of me. And friend, He knows right where you are, too. He has never lost track of you, and He will put you back together, too, when you let Him set the course.

 

Scriptures to cling to in the desert:

Psalm 119:50 “This is my comfort in my affliction, that Your Word has revived me.”

Psalm 141: 2 “May my prayer be counted as an incense before you; The lifting of my hands as the evening offering.”

John 3:16 “For God so loved the world, that He gave His one and only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish, but have eternal life. “

Romans 12: 1&2 “Therefore, brothers and sisters, in view of the mercies of God, I urge you to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God; this is your true worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may discern what is the good, pleasing, and perfect will of God.”

Philippians 4:11-12 “For I have learned to be content in whatever circumstances I find myself. I know both how to make do with little, and I know how to make do with a lot. In any and all circumstances I have learned the secret of being content–whether well fed or hungry, whether in abundance or in need. I am able to do all things through him who gives me strength.”

Recommended reading:

The Life Giving Home by Sally & Sarah Clarkson

Different: The Story of an Outside-the-Box Kid and the Mom Who Loved Him by Sally Clarkson & Nathan Clarkson

 Lyrics for “Defender” by Rita Springer

 

About the Author:

Eryn HeadshotEryn Kesler has been married for 18 years to Matt- the best thing that’s ever happened to her, is mom to 5 amazing kids, is a recovering overscheduler and wedding & portrait photographer in Brush Prairie, Wa.

 

The Wilderness of Loneliness

Photo of Fall Leaf

Alone

What do you think of when you hear the word “wilderness”?  I’ve lived my entire life in three different states in the Pacific NW.  When I think of “wilderness” I think of tall fir and pine trees, shade, moderate to cold temperatures, raging rivers, cool creeks, mountains, steep canyons, and deep valleys.

Matthew 4:1-11 tells us Jesus spent 40 days in the wilderness.  Physically he was alone and Satan was tempting him. But the wilderness where Jesus spent this time was not the wilderness that I know.  Verse 5 tells us that the devil took Him into the Holy City.

 

 

The wilderness around Jerusalem looks much like this. No tall trees providing shade. No cool creeks to quench his thirst and wash the dry dust from his hot and dirty body. Jesus fasted here for 40 days.  

Alone.  

No followers or disciples with him.  And yet, God was with him.

The Longing to Be Known

Have you ever had a wilderness experience? Not a time of backpacking through a lush wilderness with friends and family, but a dry and lonely experience like the 40 days Christ experienced.

I spent many years alone, lonely and longing.  And no joke, I am literally sitting in a dark, Costco parking lot – alone- typing this.  (Don’t worry mom. There are lots of people around and I’m safe.)

From Kindergarten to my senior year I lived in a small school district.  I had the same 120 kids in my class for 13 years. I went away to college when I was 18 and quickly came to a rude realization that I had no idea how to make friends.  Not only was I an introvert, I was an incredibly shy introvert.

I was alone and lonely.  

Desperate for someone to know me.

I survived college, moved to a large city and earned my dream job.  I loved work. I often worked extra shifts because at home in my dark, basement apartment I was alone and lonely.  

Deep down each of us has a longing to not be alone or lonely and to be known.  We are all created with a desire to be fully known.

The Cracks in the Clay

Unfortunately, in this fallen world, it is not possible for us to fully know one another.  My friends and family know many things about me. They know I crave good, dark chocolate. They know I’m in bed by 9 pm.  

They know that when I say, “I’m Done with a capital D” that they all should run and put themselves to bed.  They know the word “deserve” grates on my nerves and should probably never be used unless you’re talking about punishment.  But because my Creator created me, and each of us, in such a complex way, we can never be fully known by any other than Him.

Much like the Potter and the clay.  I can look at a pot and tell you many things about it.  It’s color, shape, size and if it will hold water. But I can’t truly know it.  I can’t know the places that were deformed and had to be redone. I can’t know the cracks that the potter re-wetted and sealed up.  Only the Potter truly knows because He is the Creator.

During my wilderness of loneliness, I begged God for a companion.  I pleaded for a boyfriend who would become my spouse. But the Lord was waiting and I’m thankful He didn’t give me the desires of my heart quickly.  

God wanted me to discover that only He could complete me.  Only He could fully know me.

Let’s look again at Matthew 4 verse 1. “Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil.”  Our Lord is sovereign.

Sometimes we find ourselves in the wilderness because we led ourselves there.  Other times God puts us there. It wasn’t until a late night of crying tears of loneliness and desperation (seven years after heading off to college – seven years of desperate loneliness)  that I finally cried out to Him and said, “Lord, if it is only You and me for the rest of my life, I’m ok with that. I trust You. If I never get married, my faith is in You, my Rock and my Shield.”

I had said those words before, but this time was different.  This time I spoke them in full understanding, and complete faith and trust in my Creator.  The One who designed me and made me. The One who is sovereign over all things.

The God Who Completely Knows Us

It wasn’t long after that the Lord brought me my husband.  But that surrender remains so important even today after being married for 17 years.  My marriage can still be lonely. I have even told people “being married and lonely is worse than being single and lonely.”  When you’re single and lonely, there is no one there for you. But when you’re married, that person is physically so close, and yet the loneliness and longing to be known are still so real.

My husband, in his humanity, is not capable of fully knowing me.  When I look at my husband to complete me I’m going to be let down.  Only the Lord can complete me. So even today, when I fall into wilderness times of loneliness while being surrounded by friends and family, I have to turn back to the words I spoke to the Lord.

“Lord, if it’s only you and me for the rest of my life, I’m ok with that.  I trust You. My faith is in You my Rock and my Shield.”

Consider:

The lyrics to one of my favorite songs are:

“All of You is more than enough for all of me.”

Do you believe that?  Can you cling to that?  Whatever your wilderness experience looks like, whether you’re lonely, tired and weary, hurt, desperate or abandoned, is He alone enough for you?

About the Author

Lee Anne HeadshotLee Ann DeRoos – Arise Ministries Collective Treasurer: I’m a simple girl. I love jeans and sweatshirts, decaf coffee and dark chocolate. I am a servant. Learner. Worshiper. Gluten-free baker. Hobby Farmer.

I am a wife, mom of two, and daughter of the King, always striving to get out from under my bushel to let His light shine.

Walking in the Desert

cactus in the desert

 

 

Isaiah 43:19

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it?

I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.

When We Walk in the Desert

Dear Friends, the spiritual desert will come sooner or later. It just will. It can’t be avoided. Those dry, often painful weeks, months, years where God seems so far away, and we struggle to find restoration and joy. The struggle leaves us bone weary and isolated, and we have nothing left.

The path into the desert can be varied – the death of a loved one, an illness, divorce, or a prodigal child. Broken relationships. The burnout we get from serving and serving and serving. It can be a moment where we are confronted by our own secret sin or an idol that has crashed down around our ears. It can be when other people’s brokenness rub against us and cut us deep.

It is in the space between hope and reality that our desert emerges — disappointment and grief at life hopes unfulfilled, barrenness that rubs raw wounds in our hearts and steals our strength. When we meet obstacles, we lie down, too tired and weary to go over the wall in front of us.

The Desert Experience

The whole of scripture is desert themed. The moment Adam and Eve sinned they lost their lush Garden where they walked with God every evening and found themselves in the wilderness where they struggled and toiled.

The moment their relationship with God was severed, their lives became marred by sin and death.

The Bible is authentic in its portrayal of the desert experience. It makes it clear that the journey through life is a hard one for both Christian and non-Christian alike. It is full of many moments where darkness and pain seem bottomless.

Here are just a few of the authentic desert moments the Bible captures:

The Israelites wandered in the desert for 40 years (40 years!) homeless and unmoored without a place to belong until the disobedient generation was gone (Numbers 14: 26- 40, Deut. 1: 34-40).

Naomi loses her husband and sons and returns to her homeland empty and bitter (Ruth 1:19-21)

Elijah, exhausted by the battle against wicked Ahab and Jezebel, flees into the wilderness, lamenting (wrongly) that he is alone in the struggle (I Kings 19:1-18).

Job despairs over his life as he sits in the ashes, sores covering his body, mourning the loss of his children and wealth (Job 3: 1-26). His friend’s advice in later chapters don’t help his painful situation.

In anguish, Jesus, alone (while the disciples sleep because they can’t handle his pain), sweats drops of blood as he faces death on the cross (Luke 22: 41-45).

Paul puts words to the struggle in 2 Corinthians 1:8-9: “For we were so utterly burdened beyond our strength that we despaired of life itself. Indeed, we felt that we had received the sentence of death.”

The Bible is not blind to the suffering of this broken life.

Mirages in the Desert

In my own travels through the desert, I often see mirages. Those shimmering troubles where things aren’t real. Comparisons that leave me discontent while I spin the “what if” wheel – “what if I had done X?”, “what if that person had done Y?”.

The reality that the people and things I love don’t fulfill their early promises overwhelms me with hurt and loss that I can’t express and in my mind thoughts of unfairness and anger swirl until it is hard to see any good things in my life.

Reading back over my journal entries written during the desert times of my life I am struck by the language – tired, worn, bitter, angry, overwhelmed, despair, avoid, anxious, trapped, hopeless, isolation.

I rage at the unfairness and heartache in life until my hurts threaten to become bitterness. I nurse my pain, grumbling and blaming.

And, to be honest, sometimes my bitterness feels good – justified anger that makes me feel somehow righteous. I feel entitled to it.

Yet it is in the midst of my brokenness I long for the freedom of God’s oasis. I long for the abundant springs of God’s grace and wisdom. I want them to reshape me and give me life, yet I am uncertain about releasing my (imaginary) control to God. I question whether God is really enough to revive my dry and thirsty life.

The One Who Encircles Us

Yet, thankfully, God has never left me alone in the desert.

In my desert, God draws near to me even while I withdraw. When I finally look towards God, He allows me to lament my sorrow with no shame or guilt. Gently God refines me. God reminds me that I am not trapped by my feelings or the expectations of others:

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light” (Matt. 11: 28-30).

And I remember how God watched over the Israelites as they wandered through the wilderness leading them as a pillar of cloud by day and pillar of fire at night (Exodus 13: 21-22). He did not leave his people alone. He kept His covenant promises even when his people rebelled.

Deuteronomy 32:10 reminds me:

“He found him in a desert land, and in the howling waste of the wilderness; he encircled him, he cared for him, he kept him as the apple of his eye.”

I love this language. I love the protectiveness and compassion of God. The good news is that God does not change. The God that encircled the Israelites is the God who still watches over me and you in the desert no matter how we got there.

Abiding in Christ

In my desert times, weaknesses and doubts rise to the surface. Often I rely on my emotional state to determine the depth of my “Christianness.” But in the desert – the times when I feel so lost, so tired, so alone, so confused, so despairing – these are the times when I can step away from my own understanding and pride and into God’s arms. I have to. My emotions are dragging me under, and I have to put my trust in something more solid.

It is in the desert that I can authentically put my dependence on God. Not because my emotions tell me to but because, despite my feelings, I know God is the only one who holds my ultimate hope.

C.S Lewis expresses this in his allegory, Screwtape Letters, when Screwtape, the senior devil, warns Wormwood, an apprentice devil, of faith that steps forward towards God even against the grain of our feelings:

“Do not be deceived, Wormwood. Our cause (the Devil’s cause), is never more in danger than when a human, no longer desiring, but still intending to do our Enemy’s will (God’s will), looks around upon a universe from which all trace of Him seems to have vanished, and asks why he has been forsaken, and still obeys.”

In the desert, I have two choices. I can let my emotions carry me away into bitterness and rebellion, or I can pour my heart out to my God knowing he is big enough to hear my cries and my anger and walk towards him in faith.

It is in the wilderness I come face-to-face with the reality of my brokenness. I am not a very good pray-er. I want to be, but in the normal daily life, I get distracted.

But when in the desert I pray, and pray and pray. Mostly, I rant and turn to Psalms to help me put words to my feelings. Deep in my soul, I know that God’s strength will never fail even when mine does.

And here, as I pray and read and search, God scours me of my self-deception and washes away the idols I foolishly put my hope in. As Paul Miller puts it, “As I prayed, God remapped my soul.” (A Loving Life– a book I highly recommend by the way – pg 54).

When We Hope in God

Hope is often a weak word in our culture. We hope towards uncertainty.

“I hope it doesn’t rain tomorrow.”

“I hope I can make it to the party.”

“I hope my kids will turn out ok.”

“I hope I will get the job.”

“I hope the cancer won’t come back.”

What will the future hold?

The Bible expresses hope with strength. It is a certainty when we place our hope in the living God. Our God is the One who carries us in the desert. He is faithful and holds our future securely because He gives us a certain path in Christ (Rom. 5:3-5; Gal 5:5; Eph 1:18-23; I Thess 5:8-11; Titus 2:13-14, 3:4-7).

The beauty of the Gospel is that it doesn’t shame us in our desert times. It lets us lament and pour out our hearts in the spectrum of feelings that come at us. And then it points us to Jesus and draws comfort in a Savior who knows and understands.

He knows our despair because He Himself despaired.

He knows betrayal because He Himself was betrayed.

He knows unfairness because He suffered horrific unfair suffering on the cross.

Jesus knows what it is like in the desert and He doesn’t look away. Jesus fully embraces us with compassion and gives us a strengthen hope that knows a certain future because He rose from the dead.

His defeat of death means we have a hope that our tears in the desert are not forever. One day Jesus will return and “wipe away every tear from (our) eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away” (Rev. 21: 4).

The desert ends forever. What a great and certain hope.

Consider:

If you are in a spiritual desert how are you lamenting? Towards God? Or in anger and bitterness? What do you need to lay down so the Good Shepherd can take care of you?

If someone you know is in a spiritual desert how are you loving them? I recommend Paul E Miller’s book A Loving Life: In a World of Broken Relationships on how to embrace people in pain with a gospel-centered love.

Over the next few weeks, we are going to hear from different voices as they tell us about their spiritual deserts. We hope that these individual experiences will encourage – you are not alone! – and remind you that we have a certain hope in the promises and sovereignty of God.

 

About the Author

Photo of Val Hooks

Valerie Hooks:  I like to write, read, drink tea, and research stuff. I am a passionate follower of Jesus. I have teenagers (pray for me) and a fantastic husband. I call Summit View Church in Vancouver, Washington the place I am loved, honed and challenged in my walk with Christ. 

Interacting with Scripture in a Personal Way

 

 

 

“Truly my soul finds rest in God; my salvation comes from him.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will never be shaken.

How long will you assault me?

Would all of you throw me down— this leaning wall, this tottering fence?

Surely they intend to topple me from my lofty place; they take delight in lies.

With their mouths they bless, but in their hearts they curse.

Yes, my soul, find rest in God; my hope comes from him.

Truly he is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken.

My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge.

Trust in him at all times, you people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.

Surely the lowborn are but a breath, the highborn are but a lie.

If weighed on a balance, they are nothing; together they are only a breath.

Do not trust in extortion or put vain hope in stolen goods; though your riches increase, do not set your heart on them. One thing God has spoken, two things I have heard:

“Power belongs to you, God, and with you, Lord, is unfailing love”;

and, “You reward everyone according to what they have done.””

Psalm 62:1-12 NIV

 

Psalm 62 has been one of my go to meditation passages since my middle school and high school days. It has been treasured deeply in my heart for decades now. What I absolutely love about God’s Word is that it never comes back void – it can be rehearsed, memorized and clung to over and over again and it is always alive and actively at work in my heart and mind, never empty – always full.

 

What has been very powerful to me in my quiet time as of this year has been taking time to dig deeper into passages that have meant a great deal to me for years. Studying them in different translations, reading up on what was happening behind the scenes, in that historic moment, as well as taking note of any repetitive language, and every promise. I also seek out and read up on what scholars have grown to understand and interpret from the passages. Then – this is my new favorite part, I spend time in His presence, meditating on each verse and paraphrasing it. Writing it back to Him in my own words. Please note that my written paraphrase of God’s Word never replaces the sovereign written authority of the Word, I only use this as a personal and intimate way to practice being still before Him, to guide my quiet time seeking Him, and asking for greater understanding of how His Word applies to me and the texture of my life… then I listen for His voice verse by verse and write.

 

In my current season of life this passage, especially written in my own words, has been a powerful and protective prayer. This has been so transformative in my quiet time that I wanted to share it with you in a super practical way so that you could give it a try if you are longing for a more personal interaction with Scripture.

 

This is my paraphrase of Psalm 62:

 

God Almighty, the innermost part of my being quietly stills and waits for only You.

You save me.

You faithfully sustain me and are a solid place for me to find my footing.

You save me.

You are a safe, strong shelter and presence around me.

I will not be be shaken.

My well-being will not be disturbed.

How long will I be attacked and misperceived?

I am weak and fragile.

Their intention is to harm me,

They speak well of me and honor me with their words,

but in their hearts they despise me and desire for me to fall.

Even so, the deepest, fully known and fully accepted part of my being finds rest in you.

You are my hope

You alone are my safe and steady hiding place – solid ground to stand on.

You are my salvation.

You are strength that surrounds me.

I will not be shaken.

My security in you will not be unsettled.

The eternal state of my being and

my honor, my character and my reputation depend on you.

You are my strong stability, my safe place.

You are trustworthy at all times.

You are a safe and protective place for all people,

A trustworthy vault where we can cast our deepest emotions and most frequent thoughts

Every detail that preoccupies our hearts and minds is protected and kept safe in you.

Frail or mighty, poor or wealthy

All people when weighed in the balance

are not as powerful or as threatening as they appear.

I will not trust in man, or their methods

I will not set my heart, trust, hope or confidence in man.

For you, God most High have spoken

I will tune my ear to you.

I will place all my trust in the promises you have spoken.

I can count on these things to always be true.

You are strong and all power belongs to you.

(Stronger than any human, stronger than any circumstance, stronger than I can even imagine or begin to comprehend.

Your strength is perfect.)

You are loving and your love never fails.

(Loving when I fail, loving when I succeed, loving when I feel unlovable and unlovely, loving when I know my value to you, loving when I sin, loving when I obey. Your love for me is unwavering. Your love never fails.)

Every person will experience your righteousness and your reward.

Each of us are fully known and transparently perceived by you.

You will reward us for how we have live our lives.

My greatest prayer is that you would find me faithfully trusting only in you.

Would your presence, protection and salvation be what defines my person, and pursuit of you.

Would my life be a narrative to the world,

magnifying your spoken Word.

You are strong and all power belongs to you.

You are loving and your love never fails.

 

This practice has been a beautiful guide for my quiet time as I practically rest and sit in His presence. It has also powerfully influenced my prayer time and grown a deeper understanding of the daily inner & outer-workings of my salvation and my Savior.

 

Why don’t you give it a try? I would love to see your paraphrase of one of your favorite passages!

 

Let’s grow together!

Rachel Anne

 

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Podcast 008 – “Surviving the Young Mama Years”

Are you a mom of young kids who feels like she’s drowning in comparison, hurried schedules, missing socks, and way too many dirty diapers? The challenges and demands placed on mothers today can be overwhelming! Listen to Rachel and Lisa discuss their own struggles and successes as they reflect on “Surviving the Young Mama Years” in this month’s new podcast.

If you live in the Clark County, Washington area, we invite you to check out this local resource that ministers to moms of all ages: https://summitviewchurch.churchcenter.com/groups/women-s-ministry/moms

You can also find a local MOPS group for support, community, and resources closer to where you live: https://www.mops.org

 

 

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Dying Well

Dying well every day.

 

There is no mistaking the fact that the Prince of Life calls to every person,

 

“Come, follow me towards life.”

 

The glow of His face, the satisfaction in His eyes, and the way in which He speaks of life draws our hopes to a crescendo. Stepping forward, at the call toward Jesus, is one step closer to true life.

 

For many, following Jesus has ended with the first step of saying yes, “I’ll follow… but…”

 

Confusion ensues as we start this journey toward life. We see that Jesus is holding heaven in one hand and hell in the other. It seems that there is no heaven without hell. Theologically speaking, there is no life without death. For Jesus to draw us into the heavens, it was necessary for him to pull our humanity through the consequences of sin. For humanity to experience heaven, it took ‘The Human’ to walk through hell. This is the beautiful work of Jesus – humanity and divinity in perfect unity walking through the front doors of hell and kicking out the back wall, setting believing captives free.

 

The work of Jesus has set us free from our slavery to death. However, does this mean that we can expect our journey towards life to be death free? I wish it did.

 

Personally, I have died more since attaching my life to Jesus than apart from him. Sometimes the hells that Jesus walks me through are such fiery trials that my walk slows to a crawl. I begin ask myself “How sure am I that this ‘Jesus’ is really leading me toward life and not death?” In moments like this, I have consistently been brought to my knees, barely being able to whisper the prayer “God, my God, Jesus, my Jesus, please… please remember that I am made of but dust. Remember my humanity, remember I can only take so much.”

 

Some of the most profound moments of abundant life have been birthed from seasons. Yes, seasons. If not years, of wretched death in my inner soul. Sorrow, doubt, heartbreak and rejection have been much of the setting of my journey. Yet Jesus has been my companion, my leader, my friend.

 

What has been profoundly encouraging to me, is that in the midst of this shadowy journey, when I look to Jesus and still see the hope of heaven in his eyes – His words whispered about life in the shadow of death are all the more beautiful.

 

As directly as Jesus says:

“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.

 

He also says:

 “Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls”.

 

There is a tension we must learn to embrace as we follow Jesus. Life and death are tied together. But, ONLY FOR NOW.

 

It seems that the road to life for Jesus, as well as His followers, is not escaping the pains of death. It is found walking through the pains of death as we follow Jesus into resurrection life.

 

Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master.’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you.

 

Our work as servants and disciples of Jesus is simply to

 

Die well. Every day.

 

If we want to experience resurrection life in our souls today, we must die well today also.

 

 

David Libby is a Pastor at the Summit View Westside Campus church in Vancouver. He is married to Rachel Libby, and together they have four amazingly brilliant and wild children that they get the honor and adventure of raising.

David is passionate about engaging with the local community and he builds intentional relationships with whomever God puts in his path. His desire is that the church would be a place that is safe enough to heal, but dangerous enough to grow.

He is passionate about creating space each week for people to encounter the presence of God. His desire is that the local church would be influential in every aspect of the local community by how we love each other and the those around us.

 

 

Thriving at His Feet

How on earth did I end up face down on the concrete driveway?! Seriously. I hope your week has been better then mine!

 

I have a little more on my plate than is truly manageable… and when I am overwhelmed I tend to get a little, how should I put this,  scattered… clumsy… and calamatus. The only redeeming thing about this is that I also get very entertaining for my family.

 

Almost every day this week I have had some sort of catastrophe merely attempting to get my kids off to school and myself out of the house…

 

To start off my week, I was running 20 minutes late, and managed to stab myself in the eye with my mascara wand. I began blinking profusely and ended up with a crazy racoon eye. I wiped it off, decided that it might just be a “lipstick only” kind of day, and then proceeded to knock a burning candle over while grabbing my purse to run out the door. Candle wax everywhere. Cleaned that up, got to the door and I realized I didn’t have my shoes on…  and began frantically yelling as I ran in circles through the house, ”David!!! I can’t find my shoes! Wait, have you seen my phone… and uh, where are my keys???!” Bless him. He just shook his head and asked “Should you even be driving today, honey?” Then he winked at me and handed me my shoes and keys as we laughed together and I scrambled out the door.

 

A high point of this week has been that the kids have made it to school on time every day! That feels like a huge success.  I may have run out to kiss my kids goodbye multiple times in my pajamas as they climbed onto the bus. Don’t worry, I think they love it. And, they are definitely not embarrassed at all when I rush in a quick little prayer as they get in line to board the bus, “Jesus, be a shield around them and keep them safe today.” (bus doors close) and “LOVE YOU!!!”… then proceed to wave at all the other students as the bus drives off, continuing its route through the neighborhood.

 

There was one morning in specific where I realized, “Oh my word, David!!!! We have officially become THOSE crazy people in our neighborhood.”

 

Don’t even pretend to not know what I’m talking about. None of us are that holy. Every neighborhood has “those” crazy people, “that” interesting family… and in our neighborhood, I believe, that this week (and maybe every week) we win both those prizes.

 

Back to the high point of my week – the day that finalized our neighborhood status… David and I were both running late, so he rushed off to work. We had gotten 3 out 4 kids on the bus successfully. Praise Jesus.  As Sunday waited for her bus, she and I unloaded all our camping gear out of the suburban to fill it with a clothing donation for Arise. Sunday and I made about 8 successful trips from the Suburban to the house without our two insane dogs escaping. But as luck would have it, just as we put the last load down at the entryway of our home, Sunday heard her bus coming. As she turned to go out the front door, both dogs escaped.

Sunday quickly grabbed Gus’ collar. (Gus is David’s English Bulldog who weighs a solid 70 pounds. He is adorable, but stubborn and mighty.) He jolted forward and she began to trip over the doorway, but still held on tight to his collar. Sunday began to stumble as Gus drug her forward on the concrete. In that moment, my mama instincts kicked in. Without even thinking I SUPERMAN dove over Sunday (I don’t even know how that was even possible stored up Mom power, I guess?!) – head first, arms outstretched and grabbed ahold of his collar. It was a small Christmas miracle that I was even able to get ahold of it without landing on my sweet little girl. As I was like, “YESSS! Well done Rachel! You’re not even athletic and that dive was everything it needed to be and more!!!!”… I proceeded to collide with the pavement. I landed with a huge thud and then the mighty (and quite naughty) Gus drug me into the driveway. I lost a little skin and a lot of dignity on that pavement, because just when I thought things couldn’t get any worse…. Sunday’s bus rolled up. #winning #momoftheyear

 

I am ALL kinds of sore today. Like, actually, I can barely move.

 

But I will say this. It is a good thing I don’t take myself too seriously. I laughed so hard I cried. As I tended to my scrapes and bruises, I heard God whisper over me… “Slow down Rachel, you are missing the most important thing in all your haste.”

 

This culture that we live in praises

 

rush, rush, rush,

 

plan, plan, plan,

 

busy schedules, full calendars, and overflowing plates.

 

I don’t think it’s just me.

 

If the way we are organizing our life and time is running us and we feel out of control then we might be missing the most important thing.

 

It feels like I have known the Mary & Martha story in Gospels since my childhood. We even used to sing a song about the two sisters in Sunday school. My whole life I had always pictured myself as Mary… Then came this humble season of life. As I took time to tend to my pavement wounds and process why I was in this scattered state all week, God gently prompted me to read again the well known story in Luke of the two sisters.

 

“Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.””

Luke 10:38-42 ESV

 

As I read those 6 verses my heart became increasingly weighted. I knew why God had put those verses in between the parable of the Good Samaritan and the Lord’s Prayer. It was purposeful.

 

It was for me. And, many people like me.

 

My grandma is a hard worker, my mother is a hard worker, I am a hard worker. We all take much pride in good work ethic, long ministry hours and our ability to host and love on everyone God brings into our homes.

 

-I am the welcomer – I love to invite people in. v.38

-I am the one always distracted and busy with serving and all of the details so that others are blessed. v.40

-I can become resentful and maybe even a little indignant when I am working hard and others choose to spend their time in other ways. v.40

-I am also the one who is anxious and troubled about many things. v.41

-I am Martha.

 

But how I long to be Mary.

 

The King of Kings, Jesus, the Savior of the world was in her home!

 

Martha wanted to serve Him and honor Him. I get that. Her gift of service and intention was beautiful. Her attitude when she was the only one working- not so much. Maybe that is the best way to gauge if we are actually doing what we are supposed to be doing in the moment. Not our intentions – but the attitude of our hearts. The why. Why are we doing what we are doing? She was working so hard that she missed the point. His presence and His person. Jesus wanted all of her – Her attention, her time, her listening ear. He was seeking relational, intentional moments with her. Mary was sitting at Jesus’ feet and actively listening. He was pouring out His wisdom, His peace, His love, and His person and Martha was too busy serving to receive it. Jesus was there to connect with her person.

 

I have been missing His presence. I long for it. I miss it in the haste. And, the Martha role is not working for me. I need to diligently carve out time to sit at His feet and listen – expectantly awaiting sweet relational, intentional moments with my Savior.

 

His presence, His power, His truth, His wisdom, His strength, His rest, His immeasurable love. I want it all.

 

I wish I was an expert at being a Mary, but the truth is – I’m not! I have been surviving for months – not thriving. That’s why my week has played out in this fragmented and scattered way. I’ve been pouring out from a depleted, empty and over-run self. I feel it. The weight of it – the emptiness of it. I need to slow down and be purposeful with the time He has given me – so that I don’t miss the most important thing. Him.

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