I went to put away a dish and the glass lid of a casserole tumbled out of my overcrowded cupboard, shattering into seemingly thousands of amber-colored shards. This is indicative of my week. An argument with one of my kids. A piece of information I don’t know how to deal with. A sleepless night. Something I’m waiting on. All unrelated, except for one thing. They’re all reminding me how much I need God. That I literally can’t do anything without Him. That thankfully, I don’t have to.
The argument was ridiculous. But it happened. I can’t undo it. I apologized. But that doesn’t make me a better listener or more patient or less prideful next time around. It doesn’t make my child and I see things from the same perspective. I am powerless to do that. The thing I discovered, the hours of sleep I missed out on, the answer I’m waiting to hear, all out of my control. And all in God’s. There are no amount of to-do’s I can accomplish, words I can say, breaths I can take that can assemble all of these items together like pieces of a jigsaw and end of with a pretty picture. But God can. I don’t know where to start. But He already has. I’m left with an action plan that only has one item on it—pray.
So God and I have been talking. A. Lot.
And this is what He keeps telling me on repeat. I’m sharing, because I believe it applies to you, too, no matter what is out of your control, is going wrong, or hurts or confuses you in this season of your life.
2. No matter what happens, God is still God, on the throne, knowing what’s best, and in control. So, I know this, and yet I don’t fully. I mean, of course God is God. He always has been and always will be. He created every shape and pattern of each leaf on every plant growing in the woods behind my house, grew every vibrant tomato plump and red piled on roadside stands and farmer’s markets, and invented every note of all the songs playing on my Spotify account and through my mind. God has rescued me in countless beautiful ways. But still I run a zillion “what if” scenarios through my brain. “What if I say this or she does that or this happens? What if I do or don’t check that thing off my list, have that meeting, get that offer? What if it makes me feel awful or elated? What if I let someone down? What if they disappoint me? Then what?” Then God will still be all-powerful, brilliantly wise, and capable of moving mountains. Then God will still love me and you fully and completely. No matter how those outcomes unfold. No matter what. God’s dominion and love are unstoppable and unchangeable.
3. I will continue to provide opportunities for you to glorify me. God might use you in a relationship, your sphere of influence, your work, your play, at home, when you’re out and about, when things go your way and when they don’t. He might use you in big-powerful-loud ways or in the finest, most precise details, or in the quiet- stealth-like ways that no one else will ever see. But God sees and smiles, no actually He beams. He will use you for good and for glory, 100% guaranteed. So we don’t have to worry if we get a new job, because whether we do or don’t, God will employ the specific talents He’s given us. It doesn’t matter if they pay you, play you, or cheer hooray for you, you are His—loved by God. He will provide chances time and time again where we can live and love well for Him, where we can point people back to Him, where we can do the things He created us to do. He’ll do that. Because He wants to, because He wants that for us, and even more so for His kingdom.
I am incapable of assembling all of those sharp transparent slivers back into a casserole lid. Nor can I guarantee I cleaned them all up. I swept, went back over the entire floor with a damp cloth. Mopped, too. My daughter pitched in and helped. One more time. Just in case. But there could still be a fragment of glass hiding in a corner. Someone could still step on a stray fragment and cut their foot.
My personality is one that wants to make everything right and then put cute stickers on it. But I’m not capable of fixing all the things. Or any of them as it turns out, not completely without any risks or cracks. But God is. And so today, I am putting my full trust in Him, believing that no matter what events and conversations take place He has specific plans for me and for you, He is almighty and all-loving, and He will provide us our daily bread, and so very much more. When life feels like too much to do solo, because it is, this is what we do—we pray. As the song goes—“This is how we fight our battles!”—never alone, but with the king of the universe on our side.
I’ve been reading the book of Luke this summer. It’s packed with familiar stories—shepherds, a manger, the Good Samaritan. I love going back through the pages and seeing what Jesus did, how He handled situations, what His attitude was, and specifically this summer I’m trying to focus on what Jesus said, because as a word lover I’m thinking the words Jesus spoke are a pretty fantastic way to learn more about Him.
One of my favorite passages is when Jesus feeds the five thousand (Luke 9). Now, keep in mind there were five thousand men plus women and children, so the crowd exceeded ten thousand, possibly twenty thousand folks. In this passage this giant crowd has come to listen to Jesus teach. Near the end of the day everyone is getting a little fussy, tired, and downright hungry.
What’s for dinner is a question my family asks on repeat. I think through what we’ve eaten recently, peek in the pantry, consider everyone’s schedules—who has soccer, meetings, sleepovers, etc. Who is even going to be eating this meal? Just when I think of something that meets our family’s dietary needs (all of the allergies live here) that most of my people will actually consume, I realize I need cilantro and gluten free wraps if I’m going to pull this together. Another trip to Kroger and perhaps also the farmer’s market and I’m good to go, at least for tonight. But thousands of hungry folks on a hillside? Yikes! Where to start? Sure, their “pantry” held five loaves of bread and two fish, but that wouldn’t make my crew happy, let alone fill them. And there are only six Smiths. The disciples point out this problem to Jesus, suggesting they send everyone out to the closest farms and villages, so the people can grab a bite to eat and stock up on snacks. That’s what the disciples say, but Jesus responds, “You feed them.”
Wait. Wha-at? Yeah, Jesus asks them to do it. When we see a problem, He also asks us to act. Jesus seems to throw His hands up at the disciples and say, “Don’t just sit there. Do something!” He says the same to us.
I have a relationship that’s rugged. I can pray about it all day long, but at the end of the day, Jesus says, “You make the phone call. Don’t wait on the other person.” I argue, “They’re challenging to talk to. It’s not always easy or pleasant.” Jesus nods. Mmm-hmm, then hands me the phone and says, “It’s not going to dial itself.” A friend asks for prayer. Jesus elbows me and says, “Go ahead. Pray.” “Um, now?” I ask. He reminds me that it makes way more sense to pray specifically for my friend’s need with my friend right now rather then telling them politely I’ll pray and then possibly forgetting and possibly tagging it onto a run-on prayer sentence a day or two later. I dream of speaking at an event at a certain church. I Google the church, check out all their fantastic resources, wish I knew someone who could introduce me to the right people, and yeah, Jesus says, “Reach out and set up a meeting.” Wait. Wha-at? What if they don’t respond? What if they don’t want me? Jesus has zero time for that nonsense. He never argues, just urges me again, “You do it.”
It’s not that Jesus is hanging us out to dry, that He’s lazy, or uninterested in helping. Quite the contrary. With the feeding the hungry crowd situation the disciples’ jaws are still hanging open in disbelief, that Jesus, the miracle-working Messiah, thinks they should feed the crowd, when He pipes in. “Listen. Get the crowd to sit in groups. Then Jesus takes the few barley loaves and tilapia, prays over the food, and hands it to the disciples. It’s Jesus who steps in with a plan. It’s Jesus who performs a miracle by blessing the small amount of food, so it can feed the masses. But the disciples have to do the work. They have to physically organize the crowd. Get them to settle down, sit down, and hang tight. Then they have to walk around to thousands of hungry folks and serve them dinner. The disciples have to take part of it, so they can fully understand what is going on, how incredible the whole thing is. They get to see the look on the faces of the hungry crowd as they relax and take a break, the smiles from the kiddos, the relief from the mamas. They got to marvel as they put their hand in the basket time and time again and every time more food keeps coming out.
Same with us. Jesus wants us to do the work. He doesn’t expect us to do it on our own. He’ll bless the work if it’s for Him. He’ll give us a plan, a place to start. He’ll pray over the situation with us. And then He’ll say, “Get moving.” Because He wants us to be a part of it, He wants us to get in on it, marvel at what He does and how He works.
If you want that mountain moved, yes pray for it, yes have faith that God will move it, but you also better start lifting weights, invest in one heck of a shovel, and start moving that dirt. Create a website. Send the message. Attend the event. Audition. Introduce yourself. Show up. Raise your hand. Suggest the idea. And then get ready to be blown away. That hungry crowd? After they’d all eaten until they were full, no skimping, twelve baskets of leftovers were gathered up. Twelve baskets. Of extras.
I’m not promising all rainbows and roses here, although that is the way I like to roll. Just because I send in a book proposal, doesn’t mean I get a book contract. But if I don’t do the work—write the proposal, make the changes my agent suggests, incorporate the feedback we get back from editors, I’ll never get that next book deal. And more importantly I won’t learn what Jesus wants to teach me. It probably took a while to settle that giant crowd into groups. Just because you work out, doesn’t mean you’ll win the race. Just because you apply for the job, does not mean you’ll get it. But when it’s the right deal, the right race, the right job, where Jesus wants to make a change and simultaneously grow us, we will get all those things and bonus baskets to boot. The job guy won’t come knocking on your door. It will be up to you to put together your resume, check out the requirements, apply, follow up with a call or email, get dressed up and cleaned up and put together for the interview. Then let Jesus bless it and dole it out, the way only He can.
Whatever thing you see needs fixing, started, initiated, changed today? Go do it. You feed them. Yes, YOU. And be blown away by not only how Jesus blesses and works, but in all the abundance of extras He’ll provide.
Last week I went to the annual Christian Book Association convention in Nashville. The event was at the Opryland Hotel. Which is so crazy cool. It’s like Disneyland in a hotel. Well, without the rides and characters. But there are waterfalls – in the hotel. And a whole section called, “The Delta,” because it looks like New Orleans, complete with lampposts and wrought iron balconies. There are multiple restaurants, bars, and two separate Starbucks (there might be more, but I saw two) within the hotel. It really is insane. And extremely easy to get lost in. Especially if you’re directionally challenged, like myself.
One of the huge benefits of traveling to Nashville for me is visiting with my sweetheart friend, Amy. I walked her to the place in the convention center (which is part of the hotel) where her book signing was taking place. Side note—oh my, check out her newest book, Night Night Sleepytown, so adorable! Then I turned around to head toward the entrance of the hotel, so I could grab an Uber to a meeting I had across town. Except where the heck did they hide the entrance? I walked down one set of blue-carpeted stairs, turned down a hallway with white doors, but didn’t have any sense of certainty to where I was going. I asked a group of women wearing name badges and none of them knew where the entrance was either. I tried another hall and spotted the back of a worker in uniform walking off into the distance.
“Excuse me,” I called. Please let him have heard me.
He turned. “Are you lost?” He asked in a beautiful, lolling accent.
“To be honest, completely lost.” I answered. “Do you know where the Cascade Lobby is?”
“Yes,” he smiled and started walking. I followed. “My first two weeks here, I couldn’t find anything,” he confessed.
“But now, you’re a pro?” I asked.
He laughed and kept walking. Soon we arrived at a crossroads where I assumed he would point me toward the exit. I paused.
“You know where you’re going?” He asked.
“No.” I answered. Because not one thing looked familiar. “But I don’t want to take you away from whatever you were doing.”
“I wasn’t doing anything. I’ll take you there.”
“Thank you so much,” I sputtered.
We continued for ten minutes. Yes, it took that long to get to the lobby, so we had time to chat. I learned he was from the Dominican Republic. He thinks Nashville is “cool”, but misses home. He plans to go back and finish University, then return to Nashville. One thing my new friend said hit so hard. He was saying something about a training session he had that was near, “Where I found you.” As if he had found me. Even though I was the one who was lost, desperately searching for a way out. Even though I was the one who was so excited when I saw him, when I found him. Or so I thought. But of course what my new friend said was true, he found me and put me back on course. I hugged him and thanked him for his kindness and patience. Man, I’m sure he had a lot of work to keep that hotel running, but he acted as if he had nothing else to do, but walk me along.
Guys, this is what Jesus does!
I’m walking around confused, headed the wrong way, worried about this, stressed about that, putting too much importance on this thing, and not paying enough attention to that thing. I’m looking for answers, but don’t know where to start. I head up those stairs, and down that hallway. And ask the wrong people for advice. Then Jesus finds me. And He patiently, gently, takes all the time in the world to escort me back to where I need to go, as if He has nothing else to do, even though He’s fairly busy caring for the world.
Jesus gave them another parable:
“There once was a woman who had ten valuable silver coins. When she lost one of them, she swept her entire house, diligently searching every corner of her house for that one lost coin. When she finally found it, she gathered all her friends and neighbors for a celebration, telling them, ‘Come and celebrate with me! I had lost my precious silver coin, but now I’ve found it.’ Luke 15:8-10
I ordered my Uber, walked outside, and almost immediately my phone rang. My Uber driver was here, “Just to the left,” he said. I walked left. Two colorful taxis, one with turquoise and yellow markings, and another—a checkered cab, except it was bright green instead of yellow and looked like it might take you to the Emerald City were parked along the curb. I saw two pick-up trucks and a hotel shuttle. I did not see the Honda Sienna that Uber said was my ride. As I looked around confused my driver gently spoke to me, “I see you. No, not there,” he said. “Keep walking left.” I took a few more steps away from the entrance, not seeing any cars at all, but he kept coaxing me. “You’re closer. I see you.” Just as I was about to say, “I don’t’ see you.” I did see him. Standing on the sidewalk, dressed all in white with a big smile on his face, waving.
What? How did he know I was the “Laura” who called for a ride? There were multiple women milling around outside the entrance. I’d never had an Uber driver get out of his car to find me before. Why did he do that? Above and beyond. But once again, so soon after the last time, I was the one who was lost, and once again I’d been found.
In our lives we are the ones who need to be repeatedly found by Jesus. Because we keep getting lost. We get lost in the idea that we need to achieve a certain pace, or do things like our moms did, or be in charge of that person’s happiness, when what we’re really supposed to be doing is loving Jesus, and letting Him love us back and guide our steps. Because when we do—all the other stuff falls into place. I don’t mean it gets wrapped up in a bow. I mean it lands in its proper position, where God can use it best. And every time we go off the tracks, Jesus comes and finds us. Sometimes we’ll walk right past Him. Because we’re not looking for Him. Or because we’re looking the wrong way. Or thinking He’ll show up with a different solution. But He is there. And when we listen and keep walking left, even though it feels like we’re going rogue, there He is, waving, speaking in a kind voice, getting us to where we need to be—to get out, to move forward, to head to our next destination.
Wherever you feel lost in this season of life—at a loss for words, a loss of funds, a loss of direction, a loss of hope—Jesus is looking for you. And when you allow Him to find you, He’ll smile and wave and say, “I see you. I found you.” Who knows? He might even say it in an awesome island
Have you ever watched an episode of the show Shark Tank? Our family is hooked. I mean, my husband is an entrepreneurship professor, but oddly he’s not the one driving our current obsession—it’s our twelve-year old son (insert laughing/crying emoji here). Anyway, if you haven’t seen it, it’s a reality show where real entrepreneurs pitch their business ideas to some of America’s most successful entrepreneurs (the sharks) in hopes that the seasoned professionals will invest in their new idea and help them grow their business.
People come in passionate about their ideas for everything from gourmet cupcakes to reflective life-saving devices. The entrepreneur gives a quick synopsis of what their product is, the need it fills, and why the sharks should invest in them. Next, the expert entrepreneurs (with net worths of over $50 million a piece) ask tough questions, give advice, and frequently make offers to invest in the proposed new business ideas for a percentage of the entrepreneur’s company.
It takes passion and guts to go on this show and face the scrutiny of the sharks. Our family loves to hear the wacky and interesting pitches. We also love to guess which, if any shark, will partner with the excited entrepreneur. And we are dumbfounded when the person pitching an idea refuses to listen to the advice of the seasoned millionaires and turns down deals for hundreds of thousands of dollars, because they want to do things their way. They really want their business to be a retail store instead of an online store even though the folks who have made millions online are instructing them to go away from strip malls OR they really want to sell their product for a premium price when all the sharks who have made a bundle selling things on QVC and Best Buy recommend they make their product less expensive and sell it the masses. The entrepreneurs come to the show for expert advice and funding, but they often walk away from it, because they don’t want to hear what the specialists are suggesting.
He who has ears, let him hear. –Matthew 13:9
Do we do this? Do I do this? Do I go to God for expert advice, and then turn away from Him, because what He has to say isn’t always what I want to hear? Things like; be patient, not now, not him, not here, try again, forgive, go deeper, one more time, bite your tongue…to name a few.
I get it. I’ll spend months or years pouring myself into a manuscript, searching for perfect words and phrases, studying Bible passages, rewriting, revising, and rewriting again. And then I hand it over to my critique partners, agent, or an editor. My manuscript always comes back with countless edits. And my instinct is, I can’t take out that chapter, I worked so hard on it. Or I don’t want to find a different example to use here. I felt that one illustrated my point. But then, I take a deep breath. Put aside my pride. Let go of “my way.” And realize, these opinions are expert opinions—from writers I trust, an agent who is on my side, editors who know the industry. These comments aren’t a personal affront; they are words of wisdom given with kindness, to help my writing grow. My kids get similar input from their coaches. Friends get it from their doctors or bosses—advice from those who know best. This is what the sharks are trying to give the business owners who come on Shark Tank—knowledge, wisdom, a deeper understanding.
And this is what God gives us too. We go about our lives making our choices, planning our days, doing our things, fighting our battles. We wish God would just clean up our messes, make our decisions easy, and solve our problems. But are we turning to Him to get the answers? Or just hoping He’ll drop a new job, cure, or nap, in our laps? Are we listening to the advice He’s already given us—His knowledge, wisdom, and deeper understanding that comes from Him, because He is God? Or are we walking away from it, because it conflicts with what we’d like to hear?
Should we take that job? Hang out with that person? Attend that event? Go that place? Confront this friend? The expert opinion is there—at our fingertips between the pages of the Bible. It’s also available when we pause and talk to God and let Him fill our heart with answers, or maybe when we talk to another friend who loves Jesus and she reminds us who God is and how that impacts our decisions. Yes, we want answers. We all want answers, but are we listening when God gives them to us?
I’m reminded of that story about a man in a flood who begged God to save him. A woman came along with a raft and told the man to hop on. He said, “No, thanks, I’m waiting for God to save me.” A guy came by with a boat and told him to climb aboard. The man said, “No thanks, I’m waiting on God to save me.” As the waters were surrounding him, an airplane flew overhead and dropped a rope. But the man didn’t reach out, because he was waiting on God. He died in the flood, went to heaven and asked God, “Why didn’t you save me?” God answered, “I sent you a raft, a boat, and an airplane! Why didn’t you hop on?”
I’m full of questions, too. I have big questions like how to handle a strained relationship. I have smaller questions like wondering if I should run more to build up my cardio or pull back to protect my trick knee. God wants to guide me. He wants to guide you, too. He has plans for us for glorious living, and he wants us to walk into those plans and live them full out. God’s not going to keep it a secret from us. If He really wants us to move or invite that person or take a chance, God will let us know. Maybe that’s why Jesus asks six times in the Bible, “Are you listening to this, really listening?” Mark 4:23
We need to listen to the advice He’s put in front of us. Keep our eyes open—seek Him in prayer and through studying His word. Seek Him in those around us. Take time from our whirlwind summers to allow His love and peace and joy to sink into our sunburnt skin. We need to understand that sometimes that raft or expert advice from a shark is the answer from God we’re looking for. And just because it’s different than what we hoped to hear or how we thought it might sound, doesn’t mean we should tune it out, or walk away.
My heart is circling around three questions this week. All because of Shark Tank. Gheesh.
I’m praying for all of us this week. That we truly understand how great our God is. Those millionaires on Shark Tank have some brilliant business ideas. Can you even fathom how much greater God’s advice is? I’m praying we understand this awesomeness, and then tap into Him—the guidance and love He freely gives us, the offers He makes. I’m praying we’re bold enough to joyfully say, “God, I am so excited to go with your plan—to accept your offer!”
Our family watched Jumanji the other night—the latest one with the Rock. The premise for the film is four high school students from different cliques all end up with detention together—think The Breakfast Club with a much nicer principal than Mr. Vernon.
During their Saturday morning punishment the four teens learn to appreciate one another for their true selves and discover greater understanding of their own strengths and weaknesses after being sucked into a video game. Each of the four students becomes a character in the game equipped with special super powers such as “dance fighting” and weaknesses—ranging from snake venom to mosquitos.
After watching I asked my kids, “What’s your super power?” Some of them listed their talents—soccer, acting, music, etc. Some named things that sounded plain fun, like invisibility. When we chatted about our weaknesses we came up with snakes, mice, splinters, and not enough sleep.
We all have weaknesses—things that stop us in our tracks that might not bother anyone else. This could be an issue with our physical or mental health, an event in our personal history that left a permanent scar, a person who brings out the worst in us, an addiction or fear. Or maybe like one of the Jumanji characters admitted, “I explode when I eat cake.” We don’t like to talk about our real weaknesses, but we know what they are.
And our super powers? As Christians we have the mightiest powers of all up our sleeves. Like prayer. We get to talk one on one with the Lord God Almighty. Who gets to do that? Us, that’s who! I mean we don’t need an invitation, or permission, or a special V.I.P. pass. We don’t need to know the right people, have the right credentials, or go through a security scan. We just get to talk to Him about anything and everything.
Not only do we get to talk to God, but we get to tap into His strength. What? Think of a strong force that literally wipes things out—hurricanes, earthquakes, avalanches—God makes those things. And we get to tap into that power. He’s on our side. Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us. –Ephesians 3:20
And how about this one? You probably won’t see it in any Xbox games, because it’s intangible, but this super power makes all the difference in the most trying situations—hope. Hope for a future. Hope for redemption. Hope because after Jesus was buried in a tomb, on the third day He sprang back to life claiming victory over the grave forever more. May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. —Romans 15:13
As Christians we have a slew of super powers, but the most powerful of all is love. The apostle Paul explains this in a letter to the early church in Corinth, These three remain: faith, hope, and love. But the greatest of these is love. Love never fails. --1 Corinthians 13:13-14:1. If you’re a Harry Potter fan, take it from Dumbledore near the end of The Sorcerer’s Stone. He explains to Harry how the powerful, evil Voldemort couldn’t even touch young Harry, “Your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn’t realize that love as powerful as your mother’s for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin.” If that’s the protection a fictitious boy wizard has from someone who died for him, think how much more protection we have from a Savior who died for us. A Savior who still lives! Love. We are loved by the God who created everything. He designed us. He wants to be with us. He didn’t want to be separated from us, so He paid the ultimate price for us. And as a result we will live forever under His protection. It is in our very skin.
There are days that are rough. When we get a phone call from that person—the one who has a knack for making us feel small and incapable. Or waking up with a migraine, feeling like we’ll throw up, and a handful of Advil and hours later instead of getting better, it has gotten so much worse it’s almost paralyzing. The times we argue with someone we love, leaving both people depleted. The NO we receive when all we wanted to hear was YES. The days the thing we’ve been hoping to fix still appears broken. Jesus knows there will be seasons of pain and struggling in our lives. He warns, “In the world there will be tribulation.” But with the line up of super powers Jesus leaves us—prayer, God’s power, hope, and love, I feel like I can face anything. You can, too. Take it face on. Because the rest of Jesus’ sentence was, “But be of good cheer. For I have overcome the world.” —John 16:33.
Today you may or may not feel like a superhero. You may feel like the cute high school girl in Jumanji suddenly smashed into Jack Black’s body being gobbled up by hippos. Like you don’t fit. Like you’re not supposed to be here. Like you just want to escape this situation. But even when we’re out of breath, confused, angry, or frightened these powers are ours—immediately accessible, right this very moment. Talk to Jesus. Tap into His strength. Rest in the hope He offers. And collapse into His love. No matter how tough a challenge this level is, no matter how nasty the bad guys, no matter how much energy you do or don’t have left, He has overcome the world.
My Uncle Ray (who wasn’t really an uncle, but actually my mom’s cousin) introduced me to fishing when I was about four. He was a farmer and had a pond on his property stocked with rainbow trout. Ray treated me like the Princess of Fishing, telling me what a great job I was doing, making a point of telling my mom when I was in close earshot, “Laura could make a fine fisherwoman.” At the time I had no idea how much of the work Ray did or what a “stocked” pond even meant, I just knew that he taught me how to put a worm on a hook, cast a line, and reel in a beautiful iridescent trout I could be proud of.
A handful of years later our family went to Florida for spring break and stayed with my actual uncle, Lowell. He took us out deep-sea fishing on his boat. I got so seasick I spent most of the day lying down in the cabin, but despite my nausea a gigantic barracuda bit on “my” line. Of course my uncle, my dad, and everyone else on board had to reel the big boy in, but still somehow, it felt like mine.
With those limited experiences I am hardly a fisherwoman, but when our family heads to the beach for summer vacation we always buy crab nets, string, and chicken backs for bait from either Walmart or the local hardware store and venture out to the pier posing as the crew of the Deadliest Catch for an afternoon. It’s something my husband did when he was a kid, and he’s carried on the tradition with our four kids and me.
Some years we catch scads of blue crabs. One year we didn’t catch a single one. Some spots or nets seem to be more productive than others as they dangle from the pier. Some years one of our kids will seem to catch the mother lode while others repeatedly pull up their nets empty except for the bait, exclaiming, “I caught chicken!” We’ve had expeditions where the temperatures hovered around 100 degrees, sweat pouring down our backs and dripping from our brows. This year it was sunny, then rained so hard it sent us under a shelter, only to turn sunny again a few minutes later.
Jesus hung out with fishermen and talked about fishing all of the time. I figure if He spent His time in boats with nets, there’s probably something to learn there. My takeaway from trying to figure out how to catch fish, or crab, is that it mirrors my journey in life.
First, no matter where I’m headed, I need someone to help me—a guide who’s gone before. I would have never even known where to fish, let alone what to bring, or how to use the rods, nets, hooks, etc. if it weren’t for my Uncle Ray, Uncle Lowell, and my husband leading me to the fishing spots and coaching me on how to hold, cast, and reel. In my life, I need Jesus. I can’t start an adventure, a new endeavor, assignment, job, relationship, or experiment without Him. Jesus knows the best places for us to go, and how we should get there. He knows when we need stocked ponds, and when we’re ready for deep waters. He equips us with the tools we’ll need to face whatever lays ahead and teaches us how to use them. He gently explains the best course of action along the way, and cheers for us when we get the catch.
Second, I need to be patient. Sometimes the things I’m after, the goals I set, the roads I set out on seem to take forever to obtain, achieve, or traverse. Sometimes it feels like I’ll never get there. Maybe I won’t. Maybe, just maybe, on some things I want I’ll never get, because I’m supposed to be doing something else with someone else somewhere else. Being patient could mean standing for an hour or day or month or year without so much as a nibble on my line. It could mean sending out another application or submission, running one more lap, biting my tongue one more time, praying another prayer, going to one more audition, inviting her again, rehearsing one more time. But mainly it means trusting Jesus, that He’s in control, that He knows what’s best, that He’ll move things forward, or sideways if necessary, (and it will be like a snap of the fingers for Him) when it’s time, when we’re ready, when it makes sense for His glory and the advancement of His kingdom. Sometimes the waiting, the trying again, builds the character we need to be able to take the next step or the next.
Third, I never know how things are going to go down. Some days everything goes swimmingly (sorry, couldn’t resist). Some days I’ll question why I’m out there, standing in the pouring rain or blistering heat. Some days I’ll feel queasy and others my nets will fill effortlessly. Some days I’ll catch exactly what I’m looking for, and others my nets will pull up the most random, brilliant treasures—like when my youngest pulled up a horseshoe crab too heavy for him to lift or when I caught a hermit crab, curled up inside his shell. But every day, Jesus is up to great things, kingdom building things. He always has something to teach us. When things are rough and challenging, it reminds us to be dependent on Him and His power and His grace. That we’re not going to get through unless we lean on Him, take shelter in Him, slather Him on like sunscreen to save us from being burned. When things come easily, we’re reminded of how great our God is, that He can move mountains, or fill nets, despite the circumstances. There are people He’ll have us meet walking down the boardwalk of life that need a smile or a hug, or maybe they’ll explain something in a way we never heard before, or they’ll become our new best friend. There are times when we’ll have zero idea what Jesus is up to, but we’ll sense it’s cool, amazing— like the day this week when I hadn’t caught a crab, but I pulled up a brilliantly striped zebra fish, flapping in my net.
I don’t know what your life adventure looks like. But I do know if you let Jesus guide you, if you’re patient with His perfect timing, and if you can let go of how you think things should go, then you’ll be in for an incredible adventure.
After a night of catching no fish at all, Jesus told his disciples:
“Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it there, and they were unable to haul it in because of the great number of fish. —John 21:6
Our icemaker has been broken for months, but I’m chilly approximately 92% of the time, so it hasn’t really been a priority for me. However, this past week the thermometer crept up it to 90 degrees, and my poor kids are melting into puddles before my very eyes, so yes, I called the repairman. Along with the warmer temps, we have ants. I scheduled an appointment with the bug guy. Apparently next Thursday is convenient for him. The check engine light is on in my car. This requires a call to the auto shop. Our disposal isn’t working. I called our plumber, but he’s on vacation for two weeks. Bless. And our bathroom? I promise you do not want to see what it looks like. Let’s just say after I called plumber #2, this job required not one, but two plumbing TRUCKS with “the machine.” Our toilet had to be taken out in the yard. And yes, a shop vac and quite a bit of bleach were necessary. We’re okay for now, but they do need to come back in a couple of weeks to check on things and put a new top or end or something on the pipe they had to cut through. You’re welcome for not having any accompanying pictures of that mess.
Witnessing all of this mayhem, my oldest daughter told me the thing she dreaded most about being a grown-up was that she’d have to make all of these phone calls. #adulting
None of these things get fixed without the phone calls. We really don’t have a choice, unless you’re a mechanic, plumber, electrician, and exterminator all rolled into one. Which, I am clearly not. It rarely takes one call to solve the household problems. This isn’t three clicks of your heels and you’re back in Kansas. So you make another call and another until the sink is fixed, the light goes off, the bugs go away, and yes, the toilet flushes. When we have household problems, we need to make calls and make them persistently. Period. The end. No way out.
And when we have problems with a relationship, stress, depression, being underappreciated, overwhelmed, overtired, or overworked, we also need to call out—to Jesus. Persistently. He will always answer, always know exactly how to help, and never put us on hold (if He did, what kind of Muzak do you think heaven would play?). But sometimes it does take more than one call. Not because Jesus is incapable. Please. This is the guy who knocked down the walls of a giant city with trumpet blasts and rose from the dead. Pretty sure He can take on anything. But sometimes it takes multiple calls to Jesus to set things straight, because it’s a multi-step task, or because we have to do something—use self-control, start the process, send the letter, take the trip, get out of our comfort zone, or possibly, make the phone call, and He’s waiting on us to take action. Sometimes, it takes more than one prayer session, maybe more than dozens of moments on our knees, because it’s simply not time yet. But we still have to make the call. And keep calling. God is there. He’s answering. And He’s listening.
This is the confidence we have in approaching God: that if we ask anything according to his will, he hears us. And if we know that he hears us—whatever we ask—we know that we have what we asked of him. 1 John 5:14-15
So what does calling Jesus look like? Same as it looks to call anyone else.
I called my mom this week to debrief on all the end-of-school-year stuff. She was a teacher for decades and certainly understands what the last week in May looks like, but Mom wanted to hear about field day and how I cried when the eighth graders sang their farewell song. Jesus also has a good pulse on the calendar and is aware of what’s going on, but He wants to know about the graduation, awards ceremony, recital, concert, and service. He wants to know if there were any good snacks, how cute your kids were, how much effort it takes to keep track of all of the forms, instruments, sports equipment, and lunch boxes. He wants you to want to share it all with Him. He smiles and claps at the joy of it all. And then in the areas where this is rough—you’re overwhelmed or end of school doesn’t look the same for you as it might for “typical” families, Jesus steps in and helps.
Over lunch the other day, a dear friend and I reached over our sandwiches, grabbed hands, and told each other our most urgent prayer requests. She shared a hope for one of her kids. I shared something going on in our family, something that’s broken, that I simply cannot fix. She nodded, reminded me that God is in control, shared a similar situation her family went through, and promised to pray. Jesus also extends His hands to us. He listens so very well. Of course He already knows all of our dreams and all the things that are off kilter, but this gives Him the opportunity to encourage us, comfort us, to remind us that He has gone through something similar. “I was a human, too,” He says. “I had people lie to me, try to trick me, abandon me, and call me names. I watched people I love get sick and mocked and hurt. I know what your pain feels like. I promise, I’m here for you.”
The other night after I’d told all the kiddos good night, locked the doors, turned out the lights, and crawled under the covers I whispered to my husband something I did that day that disappointed me. I’d lost my temper with one of the kids, and it was eating me up. I’d apologized, but it felt like too little too late. Brett reached over, rubbed my arm and said, “It’s okay. They know you love them. Let it go.” Jesus wants to know, too. I mean He sees when things go down, and He knows when something makes us feel all yucky inside, but He wants to hear us get it off our chests, say, “I’m sorry.” And when we do, Jesus says, “It’s alright. I love you. I took care of that over 2000 years ago on the cross. Time for you to let it go.”
A few days have passed since I started drafting this blog. The repairman came, but he had to order a new icemaker, so I bought a bag of ice at the store and we’re making do. The bug man sprayed for ants and said the first day we’d see more of them as they’re attracted to the bait—eww—and then they should go away. We got my car fixed, but no lie; my husband’s car has a flat tire. I couldn’t make this up. And so we keep making phone calls. Life is unpredictable and often challenging. More things will go wrong in our homes and families with our health and with our dreams, but with Jesus on speed dial, we have an expert to turn to, someone who knows how to fix All. The. Things. But even more fantastic than that—Jesus is the best listener and the ultimate comforter. Add Him to your contact list and star Him as a favorite. Praying to Jesus is the best call you can make today. And everyday.
Yes, I “know” Jesus is aware of all the things, that He sees everything, but as the band and crowd sang along with Vertical Worship at the Outcry Tour on Tuesday night, God washed a truer perspective over me.
“I stand in awe, You're the God over all I know.” A simple lyric that penetrated.
I envisioned God walking me through the rooms of our house as if I was house hunting. “And here’s the kitchen…” But instead of pointing out my new subway tile, He showed me myself flying around trying to put this away, chop that, clean up this, and get dinner in the oven in time for someone to eat before practice—frenzied and snippy. Then radiant light poured over the dirty cup and the overflowing garbage. God reminded me when I think, “Doesn’t anybody notice this isn’t recyclable? Doesn’t anyone see the toaster needs put away?” God says, “I notice. I see. And it’s okay if it’s not perfect. If it’s not all in place or done in order or even done. I love you. Let me grace shine here.”
This calms everything. Because I’m not in this by myself. I’m not a better or worse mom or wife if the silverware drawer is organized or if there are fingerprints on the fridge. And I don’t have to do it on my own. Neither do you. God is in each and every detail—the God over all we know. He sees the things that drive us crazy and shines warmth onto these places. He sees ALL of it. He doesn’t let a single aspect of our lives go unnoticed.
Where are you feeling frazzled? God is with you in that place—running late to practice or a meeting, studying for exams, pacing around the family room in the middle of the night with a wailing infant. Let His grace shine here.
Next, God guided me to the door leading to our garage. He didn’t point out my kids’ artwork or comment on their Nerf hoop. Instead, He said, “This is the coming and going place.”
Most of our family greetings are sweet—full of hugs and “I love yous,” but some are strained. Someone’s had a crummy day and needs to vent about everything. Someone else is tired and not in the mood to be barraged with questions when they walk in the door. One of us needs a hug. Another cannot fathom anyone touching them right now. God allowed me to see His golden light shining on these situations. His presence encircling all members of our family—the ones who want to be left alone, the ones who need to chat, all the emotions that ensue. God whispered, “It’s always like this. I’m always here. You just don’t always see it. Don’t push. Don’t worry. I love each person in your family. Let Me guide the conversations and the greetings. I am with you all.”
Sigh. I love my husband and kids so much. But sometimes my love for them turns into me trying too hard to love them. God gave me a permission slip to step back. To not have to resolve every problem. To allow room for Him to do His glorious thing. Who do you love? Who do you live with? Are there ever rough spots in that relationship? A quarrel? A miscommunication? A frustration? God is there—loving you both. Knowing exactly what you both need. Make room for Him.
I followed God upstairs as He entered my writing nook. I saw my laptop, to-do list, pile of reference books, journal, dual coasters—one for coffee, one for water, and a smattering of pens, headphones and a stray Eos. Beams of light shot from every nook and cranny. “This is My space,” He said. “Everything you do in here should be for Me and My glory. Don’t worry about deadlines, rejections, what your next project will be, or when you’ll find out about it. Just come in here expectant of what I’ll do. Come in here to serve Me.”
Okay, wow. I know this. I know I write for Jesus, but I also know I stress over it. Too much. God reminded me not to worry, but instead just to work. What kind of work do you do? Homework? Housework? Running giant companies work? Yardwork? What kind of work would you like to do? What are you waiting to hear back about? God knows about all of it. Every single detail. And He’s working them all together for good. Take a deep breath. Say a prayer before you commence your next task or assignment. Turn it over to Him.
God showed me all this during one song. Granted worship songs are lengthy, but still. Today I am clinging to that vision. Trying to keep my eyes open and aware that He truly is everywhere shining light into each detail. God understands when we have a headache, when we’re tired, when we’re overwhelmed, and He offers peace. God appreciates that we get confused, unsure what to do next or how to react, and He offers assurance that He knows exactly what’s going on and if we let Him, He’ll make things clear. God realizes you and your roommate or sibling or spouse are at odds. He loves you and that other person. Pray for Him to step into the conversations and the misunderstandings. Pray for Him to smooth things over where you simply cannot.
Our God is in ALL things. He is the God over all we know. All of our comings in, goings out, daily routines and grinds. God not only knows all of it, He can make it better. Allow Him to shine His love like warm sunlight into all of the rooms—literal and figurative of your life. Allow Him to do what only God can do. He’s the God over ALL we know.
I’ve been through enough spring soccer seasons by now to expect two things—inclimate weather and parking challenges. So there was no surprise as I pulled into a park along with a herd of SUV’s decorated with various soccer club stickers on Sunday and parking was, well, non existent.
I dropped my daughter and her friend near their field. I was thrilled when not too far down I spied a space wide enough I could pull into, despite my pathetic parking skills. Miraculously no one was coming the other way, so I was even able to back in allowing for a chance to escape after the game. Sure, it was on a slant. But there was a line of cars parked on the same hill. Certainly they all wouldn’t have parked here if it would be an issue. You see where this is going.
Immediately my brain asked, “Should I stay? Should I try to move? But where would I go? How long would it take to get out? I’d have to maneuver through the throng of tournament traffic in hopes of finding another space, if I could even find one. It might be a twenty minute walk from the field.” So I got out, locked the car, and grabbed my umbrella. Because it was pouring.
I found my way to the sidelines. Soon the refs blew their shrill whistles. The girls ran, passed, shot. The rain pelted harder. Voices couldn’t be heard over the wind. Fans withdrew to the bubbles of their umbrellas. My mind tried to focus on the game, but was unsettled. I was going to have to get help. I would need to find a man, maybe two, to push my vehicle up that slope. What if when I stepped on the gas my car flew up the hill so fast it hit another car?
The downpour turned to hail. The wind blew over team tents, folding chairs, and I swear I saw Ms. Gulch fly by on her bike. It was surreal. Why were all these people standing outside in a storm? We all know it’s best to seek shelter in this kind of weather. Why were the girls still playing? And bless their hearts, they were playing full out. And what was I going to do about my car? I stood halted in a bad situation, feeling helpless to change or fix it. I felt frozen.
I like to be able to fix things, do things, help people. I wanted the girls to be warm. I wanted the wind to be still and the rain to stop. I wanted to be able to pull my car right out when the game was over, yes for me, but also for the girls, for the other cars around, so I wouldn’t cause a ruckus, so I wouldn’t have to ask anyone for help.
But that’s not how life works. We don’t get all the things we want. Things don’t always go our way. Sometimes we’re caught in a storm. Sometimes we can’t control part or any of our circumstances. We need help. All of us. Even when we don’t know exactly what we need or how to ask for it. And when we’re stuck, the only option is to cry out to Jesus. Because you know what I like to do? Everything. You know what I can do without Jesus. Nothing.
The game felt like it was in slow motion. Suddenly horns blew, echoing through the air. It took a minute for them to register. The players sprinted off the fields and took cover under a small picnic shelter. Shivering parents smushed under the lone tent that hadn’t been upturned by the wind.
One dad asked, “Is that your car on that steep incline?”
“Uh, yeah,” I half-laughed. “Not good. I am so going to need help.”
“Which car?” another dad asked. Someone explained to him. “We’ll get you out,” he nodded.
And just like that I had a crew of angels. It hadn’t been hard to ask. It hadn’t been worth the worry that had been needling my brain for forty-five minutes. Although I wasn’t out yet.
Thankfully, the game ended up being called due to the storm. As soon as we got the official word I spoke up, “You guys ready to give a girl a hand?” No joke, a group of men, took my key, followed me to my car, and went to work. They treated me with the care and respect they would have given their own wives. Two men I’d never seen before, who were dads from other teams, joined in. It wasn’t easy. But it was an adventure. Tires hissing and spinning. Mud flying. Car slipping. Everyone having to run out of the way. And then. It was on the road, free, safe, and clear because of nothing I’d done, except ask.
I am so grateful to all these lovely men who stepped up to help me, even though they had zero obligation to do so. They didn’t expect me to go push their cars in return. They didn’t write out IOUs for rides for their daughters or gift certificates to Soccer Village. They just helped.
You all, this is how a relationship with Jesus works. I’m a mess who can’t park a car, who parks in the stupidest spot, who stresses about it. And then I ask for help. Because there’s truly no other way. And the words come easier than I imagine. And Jesus, says, “I’ll get you out of this.” Sure, I might get a little muddy in the process. I might have to wait and trust while the car grinds and the outcome looks uncertain. But when Jesus is behind the wheel, the result is never in question. It’s always in the best hands. And suddenly, due to nothing I’ve done on my own, I’m on track again, facing front, ready to move forward. I don’t have to pay anything. There’s not anything expected of me. I am filled with gratitude.
This is my daily life. There is no other choice, but to call out to Jesus. Because without Him, I’m a helpless girl spinning my wheels and flinging mud. Will you join me? Call out to Him today. He loves you so much. And is just waiting to help you get going.
I was scrolling through Instagram and paused at a post listing “10 Things I Hope to Do Every Day.” Mentioned were, “learn something new” and “laugh”—great things I hope to do, as well. But one item stood out—smell good. I made a note of it. Yes, please. Smell good. Every. Day. I mean, we’ve all been around someone who smells bad. And nobody wants to be that person.
Because our scent tells a lot about our story. I woke up this morning and my pajamas smelled like the fire from our fireplace last night. I know it’s April, but it just snowed. Again. Don’t get me started. Our kitchen smelled spicy like the tacos we ate for dinner. My son’s gym shoes reek like the creek he splashed in. One hug from one of my kids, and I can tell from their scent if they’ve been swimming, at a coffee shop, playing outside, or if they just crawled out from under their covers. I’m like a smell detective. But if I can tell so much from a quick whiff of one of my children, what else do our smells convey?
I don’t want my story to be a smelly one. I don’t want people to take a step away from me, like they do when someone has bad breath of body odor. I don’t want to have a stinky personality, reek of negativity, or be known for foul behavior.
For we are to God the pleasing aroma of Christ among those who are being saved and those who are perishing. —2 Corinthians 2:15
I want to be the pleasing aroma of Christ. I want to smell like Jesus. What does that mean? I think being the aroma of Christ means our actions, and our words should waft wonderful things throughout the air, drifting by the people we encounter, and delivering to them a hint of what Jesus offers—hope, love, encouragement.
Have you heard the story of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego? They lived in ancient Babylon and worked for King Nebuchadnezzar. The King built a giant gold statue of himself and made everyone bow down to it. Slightly arrogant. Except these three guys refused. Because God. Nebuchadnezzar wasn’t too pleased with their defiance, and threw the boys into a flaming furnace so hot it sizzled the guards who tossed them in. God stepped in and rescued Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego. When the King realized they weren’t going to die, he let them out. And our three heroes?
So Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego stepped out of the fire. Then the high officers, officials, governors, and advisers crowded around them and saw that the fire had not touched them. Not a hair on their heads was singed, and their clothing was not scorched. They didn’t even smell of smoke! —Daniel 3:26-27
Our boys stood up for what they believed in. They would not bow down to anyone or anything except God. And even after being thrown in a furnace, not a scent of flame or ash was on them. Because they were not part of that thing, they were set apart. They were children of the One True King.
What do I smell like?
Am I standing up for Jesus? Am I idolizing anything other than God? Because Jesus has set me apart. You, too, if you believe in Him. We don’t have to be associated with the smoke and mirrors of this world. But it’s our choice. We can bow down. Or not. We can smell like smoke, or like something much better—the sweet aroma of Christ.
When I spritz on some Bath & Body spray, I smell fresh, fruity, maybe like an ocean breeze. What if my actions and words left a trail of warmth, kindness, and compassion? My favorite scent is lavender. One whiff and I feel peaceful and filled with beauty, like I’ve escaped to the South of France. How can I make others feel that way—calm and fulfilled? What if we all left a trail of lovely aromas that filled the world with hope and joy, or at least the potential for it?
I know that even as I focus on the idea of having a lovely scent, I’ll get stinky again. I’ll sweat, slice an onion, or take out the trash. And I’ll have to wash up to get fresh all over again.
What about when we get spiritually stinky? Same. We need to wash ourselves in the love of Christ, in what He did on the cross, on the fact that He loves us and therefore nothing else matters. Then we can be less defensive, less prideful, less jealous, less anxious, less concerned about what they think, because what do we need to worry or boast about if the Author of Creation loves us?
All scrubbed fresh and clean, we can go back out, equipped to spread the aroma of Christ to the world. Will you join me? Do you know how great we could make this world smell?
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