Category Archives: trust

on living the right question …

When I get to the end of all of this, when I reach the other side of the struggle that’s been weighing so heavily upon me, what do I want to see happen?

This is the question I keep asking myself. It’s the question that keeps me awake at night and barely functioning during the daytime. I scramble for answers, trying to manipulate the outcome, trying to fix a problem that is bigger than me. And I realize something in these early morning hours, really have some clarity about one important thing:

I’m not asking the right question.

“What do I want to see happen?” doesn’t get the job done. Instead, “What does God want to see happen?” seems the right fit for such a time as this.

I’ve been reading Dr. Tangumonkem’s words—a journey of simple yet profound faith. He’s my new friend, a beautiful grace from God in the midst of this ever changing saga known as my publishing debacle. We’ve done a book exchange of sorts as a way of encouraging each other in this time. From his pen he writes these words:

“The next time an opportunity presents itself before you and is more than your wildest imagination, do not get frozen in your tracks. Your boat is being rocked to loosen if from the shore so that you can move into deeper waters. Fear, worry, and anxiety are expected reactions, but do not allow them to prevent you from launching into the deep.” (from Coming to America, 2013, pg. 35)

He can write these words, because he knows them to be true. He has lived these words, one faithful step at a time. This is a man with a God-given dream, a God-given life. A man from Cameroon who never allows himself to live in the impossibilities of what God has called him to do but, instead, relies on the promises of God to make it happen. I marvel at his determined faith, and I am stretched to live accordingly.

I smile at his fortitude. Consider this man who, after being led by the Spirit of God about coming to America to further his education, saved his spare coins for an entire year so that he could pay the fee to take the GRE, thereby meeting one of the many requirements of God’s forward moving plan for his life. A year, people! Are you hearing me? A year’s worth of intentional saving so that he could take … wait for it … a test.

How different would our blessed United States of America be if we all had a similar passion and respect for furthering our education? We’ll drop a few hundred dollars on a new gadget without a second thought. Dr. Tangumonkem didn’t have that luxury and, instead, made this collection of coins his first thought, his second thought, his third, fourth, and fifth thought, one thought at a time until enough money had been saved so he could take a test. So that he could check that one requisite off of a very long list of requirements before seeing God’s dream come to pass. Again from his pen:

“Many dreams have died at inception because we focus on the lack of resources and the obstacles that oppose our onward match [sic] to fulfilling our dreams. This should not be the case, for if God is the initiator of the dream He will also make the dreams come true. … All you are required to do is believe and trust Him to lead you one step at a time. This is the one tried and true antidote that will put fear and unbelief out of business.” (from Coming to America, 2013, pg. 46).

Yes, friends, I’m asking the wrong question. Not “What do I want to see happen?” but rather “What does God want to see happen?”. This is yet to be determined. It is a matter far too big for me to get my mind around these days, my pocketbook as well. Re-publishing my manuscripts will be an expensive endeavor and one that I had not planned on. I think that God intends for me to take a page out of my new friend’s history.

I’ll trust God with the dream, and then I’ll save my spare change – even if it takes a year or two or whatever amount of time God determines to bring his conclusion to fruition. In the end, I just want to pass the test—this test of faith so that I might shine forth as gold, even as Dr. Tangumonkem shines forth as a beacon of hope for all of us in this time of sifting.

“But he knows the way that I take;

when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.

My feet have closely followed his steps;

I have kept to his way without turning aside.

I have not departed from the commands of his lips;

I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.”

–Job 23:10-12

 

Kept in peace,

PS: If you are interested in learning more about Dr. Tangumonkem’s Coming to America and how you might secure a copy, please click on the link above or contact him through his email – t[email protected]. I’m not sure how many copies he has left; there are nearly 2000 authors in a state of flux right now regarding our published work, but I’ll be happy to put you in touch with him.

The winner of Mark Buchanan’s The Rest of God is Sharon. Please be in touch with a mailing address, friend.

yet inwardly

“Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.”  -2 Cor. 4:16-17

Yet inwardly.

As God-followers, we must remember that for every outward reduction to our lives there is an inward renewal taking place. Soul renewal. New strength to replace waning fortitude. New life in exchange for that which is old, even when the old is mostly preferred.

We cannot always foresee the reductions coming. Sometimes they surprise us. Sometimes we are warned in advance of their arrival. Still and yet, when loss arrives to our familiar, we feel it profoundly. We’re quick to mourn its advent, even quicker to forget the deeper work of grace that is taking place underneath the pain, at heart-level. It is in this inward place where our soul advances. Where faith is shaped. Where eternal glory exponentially increases at a rapid rate.

We may not see the increase happening, but just because our eyesight is momentarily dimmed by personal pain doesn’t mean that something good isn’t occurring at a deeper level. What soil put to the blade has ever thanked the blade for its penetrating sharpness? Until the seed is planted, the earth watered, and the sun applied, the soil has no appreciation for this inward work of glory. The soil just has to wait and believe that, with every passing sunrise and sunset, there is something generous taking place beneath the visible.

As it is with the soil, so it is with the soul.

I’m fourteen days into 2014, and if there’s one word that best characterizes what I’ve experienced in these beginning weeks it would be simply and profoundly be … loss.

Not only have I known deep, personal reduction, but one of my children has as well. My parents, the same. We couldn’t see it coming on the backside of our 2013s; nevertheless, loss has arrived at the doorsteps of our hearts, and we are challenged to take hold of God’s inward multiplication despite man’s attempts at outward reduction.

By the generous grace of God, we’re all still standing in faith. We all still believe in the mighty work belonging to the unseen—the hidden places of our hearts where the Gardener’s inward work is taking place. Even in loss, there is increase. We just can’t see it yet, not fully.

What I can see and what I do know is this:

God is keeping me in his perfect peace. Why? Because I am intentionally choosing to trust him and, moment by moment, to place my mind next to his. Whenever I begin to fret and feel overcome by the arrows of chaos shooting poison into my thoughts, I move my thoughts to a higher place. There’s nothing mystical about this mind-movement; rather, it’s a choice I’m making—a fluid, uninterrupted heart-motion that begins with saying, “I trust you, God” and ends with my resting my head on his chest.

Therein, I am a kept woman, if only for a moment. Moments can accumulate into hours. Hours into days, and days into weeks … these past two weeks of continuing peace. I’m growing to expect this from God, and I am exceedingly grateful for his generosity.

This is an inward work by the unseen God. This is increasing, eternal glory. And today, this is enough to carry me forward.

How about you? I don’t imagine I’m the only one who is experiencing loss in this season. Perhaps you’re standing where I am standing, feeling the sharp blade of unanticipated reduction to the soil of your heart. Might I encourage you with the words of the Apostle Paul that have greatly encouraged me?

Yet inwardly.

There is an inward grace taking place just beneath your seen and visible. It may not feel like much right now; this reduction may have temporarily numbed you to the truth regarding kingdom increase. But when you get to the other side of this loss—when the seeds planted in darkness begin to sprout as glory under the splendor of God’s radiant Son—then you will know that there is more to this current grief than what can currently be seen.

So rejoice with me, ye sojourners on the road of reduction! Yet inwardly, the Gardener is sowing for increase. Rejoice, at least, in this. It’s something more than we expected, and it just might wind up being our preference in the end.

Kept in peace,

Anchor Verse 2014 ~ Kept

 

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.” –Isaiah 26:3, ESV

Kept.

This is who I want to be in 2014. This is how I want to live.

Kept … in perfect peace—the Father’s pledge to me preceded by my obedience to him. That obedience? To trust God first and, then, out of that unwavering confidence, to lay, lean, rest, and support my mind upon him … to stay with God.

With that trusting and in that staying comes a God-guarded, perfect peace—completeness, tranquility, safety, and contentment that cannot be secured in any other way. Like a night watchman keeping vigilance over his vineyard, the Father promises to safeguard my peace so that the harvest remains intact, healthy and thriving to fullness.

I don’t imagine I’ve ever experienced this perfect peace long-term. There have been moments, even days, perhaps a season or two of holding this kind of sustained, perfect peace, but I want more than seasonal glimpses. What I’m after is an enduring fellowship with this God-protected contentment.

And so, when I dreamed about these words from Isaiah 26:3 a few nights ago (to be fair, I didn’t know they were found in Isaiah 26:3 at the time), I awakened in the morning holding a fresh purpose for my 2014. This year, I want to know my Father as Keeper. I want to be kept in his perfect peace. Accordingly, I must tend to my trusting and to my staying.

A pledge preceded by an obedience. A pledge and an obedience tucked securely within the set of bookends who can and who does author such reality:

“You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you.”

You. God. Father. Keeper.

He is where I begin my 2014. He is where I’ll finish. And in between my now and my then, a long season of trusting and staying … an enduring season of fellowship with God-protected contentment.

Kept. This is who I want to be in 2014. This is how I want to live … anchored and held by the rich truth and work of Isaiah 26:3. And so I offer my “welcome” to this New Year, and I offer my welcome to you as well. For as much and as little as we are able, the fellowship we share here is a stone of remembrance for me on this journey of grace. May God keep you strong and in the faith this 2014, and may you be guarded by his perfect peace every step of the way.

Stay with God,

Letting Go

Letting go.

We talked about it last night after teeth were brushed and prayers were spoken. Two girls, one barely eleven and the other four times plus her senior. Her tears might as well have been mine. I know this struggle – this letting go kind of dilemma.

She’ll be taking a trip soon, one that requires her to leave behind a few items that have been her comfort for the past decade. She knows it’s time; she just doesn’t know how she’s going to do it without some pain.

“Maybe this is how God is going to grow you. Maybe this is his way of molding you into the woman he wants you to be – someone who trusts him in the night. You can hold onto someone real, baby girl, instead of something that’s not. You can hold onto Jesus. I sure would hate for you to miss out on a potentially, life-changing experience because of your fear of letting go. Maybe this is God’s way of leading you toward a deeper faith in him.”

These words were enough to momentarily quell her inner ache; I lingered a while longer while she let this truth absorb into her soul. After leaving her room, I let it absorb into mine as well. Long into the night I meditated on these words shared from my mother’s, well-trained heart to a daughter who is following closely behind.

Maybe this is how God is going to grow you, Elaine.

Letting go. I know it’s time; I just don’t know how I’m going to do it without some pain.

Of what, you might ask?

A few things. In the grand scheme of your life, my few things probably don’t matter that much. I imagine you have your own releases that are fighting it out within your heart today. You know it’s time; God’s been poking at it for a while now. But you are scared of the night. Those creature comforts that have been temporarily comforting you no longer suffice. Their power is limited and will never lend you enough strength for the deeper faith that is required for the journey ahead.

And so you have a choice: Let go of what’s in your hand so that you might take hold of God’s hand, or hold on to what you have and never make it to your next, spiritual birthday. You can stay stuck at eleven or you can add another candle to the cake and move forward with your twelve. The choice is yours. The choice is mine.

Maybe this is how God is going to grow us all.

It begins in the night, when light is cloaked by darkness, a wrestling it out under the covers with our souls. The pain is real, the ache almost debilitating. Almost. But then truth arrives, bringing with it a fair exchange for the hurt. A God exchange. His real presence for your temporal fix. His real hand, his heart, and his love for your false idols.

Your life, changing because of your letting go.

I want that, friends. Life changing. Life amplified. Life maturing. Life living forward in the daytime because I wasn’t afraid to let go in the night. Life holding hands with the Savior instead of life holding hands with fear.

Accordingly, I make this choice today, even as my daughter will have to make hers in coming days. I know it’s time; I just don’t know how to do it without the pain. So I won’t even try. I’ll expect the pain, but I’ll also expect the hand of Jesus. His real presence makes all the difference. His real presence is all the strength I need to let go in order that I might walk on.

This is me letting go.

This is me walking on.

I’ll meet you on the road of faith. Traveling mercies, sweet friends, and may you always know God’s companioning …

Peace for the journey,

Come What May

 

He autographs my copy of his book, along with a postscript – 1 Cor. 1:9.

I visited this biblical address in my morning deliberations with God.

“God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.”

Word by word, I let this one simmer in my soul.

God. Calling me. Into fellowship. With Jesus. My Lord. Is. Faithful.

I notice the bookends – God and faithful. Could it be any other way? Sometimes I think it might be, but my thinking (especially when emotions are involved) doesn’t always accurately portray truth. No, it cannot be any other way. God and faithfulness go hand in hand. There is not one without the other. God cannot be unfaithful, and faithfulness is defined by God. Faithful is who he is; faithful is what he does. Knowing this … believing this, I can live my life confidently, in peace, and with the full assurance that God will see me through to the finish line, come what may.

Why, then, do I sometimes crumble with the come what may?

Come what may. What came into my life last weekend was a phone call, preceded by a car accident involving my eldest son. And while he’s OK and his car is on the road to being repaired, I’ve yet to fully recover. Seeing his Scion crashed into an embankment, along with a “stop sign” buried in the sandy soil beneath the carriage of his car, has left a lasting impression on my mind. Hearing his cries for help on the other end of the phone has left a lasting impression on my soul.

It matters not the come what may, especially ones of the crumbling kind. They leave lasting imprints.

  • Sickness.
  • Death.
  • Divorce.
  • Abuse.
  • Crime.
  • Unemployment.
  • Under-employment.
  • Financial strain.
  • Learning difficulties.
  • Relational woes.
  • Dreams deferred.
  • Dreams forgotten.
  • ______________.

My recent come what may came and went; still and yet, it lingers in me. Tearing up my peace. Messing with the truth. My what ifs have temporarily dislodged the what is. What is?

God is faithful. Regardless of my come what may, God is faithful. I should rest securely in between.

I hate that I forget this, that I often don’t live this. It’s so concrete, so foundational to the faith that I profess to believe. When adversity howls down my pathway, I’m often paralyzed by the blinding darkness that surrounds me. The enemy would have it this way.

Come what mays grow larger in the dark. Come what mays thrive in the shadows. Come what mays come and stay when entertained in the cover of night.

It’s only with the light and witness of God’s presence that I am able to dispel the darkness and make the next step of faith. When I can see truth (even just a little bit), I’m able to move through the reality of my come what may and make progress toward something better. That better?

My Father’s come what may.

His faithfulness. Time and again, God showing up on the scene of my life and making certain that he can be seen. Touched. Tasted. Heard. Felt. I’ve never encountered a come what may that he wasn’t there in the midst of the chaos. My mess is his mess too. And when I embrace his light, when I take hold of the sacred lantern and lift it up against my fledgling faith, my come what may shudders and begins to break apart beneath the weight of holy illumination.

Come what may, God’s faithfulness does not change. It can be ignored, but it cannot be altered. His faithfulness stands, even in the midst of our crumbling messes … especially then.

“God, who has called you into fellowship with his Son Jesus Christ our Lord, is faithful.”

Let this promise simmer in your souls, friends. Let this truth settle deeply within your spirit.

Come what may, our Father has the final say. He is faithful. He will keep us through the night and, with the morning light, bring word of his unfailing love. This is enough light, the right light to move me forward. I know this is truth.

God help me to live it, even as I boldly proclaim it … come what may.

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