Into the Deep

What is the best way to learn to swim in the ocean?

I would venture to say that the toddler pool would not be very helpful.  Even going as far as the adult pool, maybe the 8-12 foot deep end, would not be enough.

Why?  Well, for one thing the ocean is vastly deep and often rough.  Undertow can end the life of the most strong swimmers, not to mention the wildlife swimming below.  A clean, chlorinated community pool is not the same.  Not even close.

To be a strong swimmer in the ocean requires understanding of the behavior of the waters and wildlife, and incredible strength to withstand the pummeling of large waves.

One has to study and and train in order to survive the wild.

Lately I have been pondering this reality.  As I prepare to launch my firstborn into adulthood and strive to educate my younger children I have seen a common thread woven throughout this season of life.

We avoid boredom like the plague.  We don’t know what to do with it.  Stillness makes us unsettled and we rescue ourselves from it with the click of a smartphone.

Just look to your left or right at any intersection.  Most people cannot handle even one minute of boredom, pulling out their phone to fill the empty space until the light turns green.  Dead air on the radio for more that two seconds will prompt us to change the channel.

Even our children, with fresh and creative minds so able to learn and explore, are taught to turn to video games and television because the adults find it easier…less messy…more quiet in the house when the headphones are on and the controller is clicking away.

We have shelves full of books that sit unread.  Art supplies still in their original packaging, purchased with great intentions but rarely used.  Yet we scroll.  We click.

And we die.

We were created for more.  We live in a tumultuous and rocky world.  An ocean of culture and change lies before us but we don’t know how to swim in it.  Our minds numb, becoming accustomed to shallow waters, bright floaties and chaise lounges while our surroundings succumb to the flood.

We can’t even tread water.

But we can change this.  What if we choose excellence?  What if we listen, read and learn and bless our minds with strong tools for survival?  What if we study the dark spiritual waters and learn how to swim in them, to stay afloat and rescue others who are sinking?  The specifics are up to you and me.  Only we know ourselves and where we have neglected good and necessary growth.  But I suggest we begin by seeking God, diving into the Scriptures and letting the outflow of that affect our choices in entertainment, media and education.  We learn to allow ourselves to sit in boredom, to become contemplative in those awkward moments and let it result in growth and creativity.

My goodness, imagine what we might hear from the Lord if we give Him a quiet space in which to speak!

“Be still and know…”

Turn away from foolish things and look to the good, true and beautiful.  Retrain our minds to look inward and evaluate ourselves before looking outward for a quick fix at the stop light.

Let silence ring loud in our ears and listen…

We can hear ourselves breathing.  We might even hear our own hearts beating.

Build strong spiritual muscles in those moments and swim out into the deep, unafraid when the shore disappears because we have trained and are ready.  Truth is our guide and Jesus is our light piercing the darkness.

We were born for more than a quick fix.   Don’t settle any longer.

The Silver Mist

August came gently, with cooler evenings and mornings to balance the hot afternoons.  My longing for Autumn began to grow into an ache as a few leaves turned bright red in the tops of young trees in our yard.  Vibrant and teasing of what is to come.  (And unusually early!)

The busy of the school year looms ahead and I have just had the hardest time getting motivated to order the books and fill out the planners.  Maybe it is because we moved in the middle of last year and I’m feeling a bit rebellious?  This slow summer was such good medicine.

Everybody is starting school next week.  But not us.  We are traveling to visit grandparents and we “may” start when we get home.  I’m just loving these long days with my kids and hours outdoors by the pool so much.  I don’t want them to end!

All the crazy starts Labor Day week.  Maybe I’ll just put it all off until then because I can.

Anyway, this morning I awakened at dawn and noticed a marked difference in the light steaming through our bedroom window.  I parted the curtains and smiled at what I saw:

The silver mist giving the trees a soft focus, hiding the distant hills.  Birds chatting happily in the morning cool as they nibbled and fussed at the feeders.  The sun shining gently, filtered by earth-clouds and not hot.  Not yet.

I opened the windows of my office as soon as I stepped in, relishing the breeze as I lit the peach-scented candle.  A line from a song sang through my spirit, one of my favorites by Andrew Peterson

I saw the sower in the silver mist and he was calling me home.

The song, “The Dark Before the Dawn,” spoke softly to my heart.  The lyrics filled my mind with imagery.  Just read them…then click on this link to listen.

I’ve been waiting for the sun
To come blazing up out of the night like a bullet from a gun
Till every shadow is scattered, every dragon’s on the run
Oh, I believe, I believe that the light is gonna come
And this is the dark, this is the dark before the dawn
I’ve been waiting for some peace
To come raining down out of the heavens on these war-torn fields
All creation is aching for the sons of God to be revealed
Oh, I believe, I believe that the victory is sealed
The serpent struck but it was crushed beneath His heel
Oh, I know the wind can bring the lightning
Oh, I know the lightning brings the rain
Oh, I know the storm can be so frightening
But that same wind is gonna blow that storm away
Blow that storm away
Lord, I’m waiting for a change
I’m waiting for the changeSo I’m waiting for the King
To come galloping out of the clouds while the angel armies sing
He’s gonna gather His people in the shadow of His wings
And I’m gonna raise my voice with the song of the redeemed
‘Cause all this darkness is a small and passing thingThis is the storm, this is the storm
The storm before the calm
This is the pain, the pain before the balm
This is the cold, the cold
It’s the cold before the warm
These are the tears, the tears before the song
This is the dark
Sometimes all I see is this darkness
Well, can’t you feel the darkness
This is the dark before the dawnI’m just waiting for a change
Change
Lord, I’m waiting for the changeI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
And I could see the fields of glory
I could hear the sower’s songI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
And all that rain had washed me clean
All the sorrow was goneI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
And I could finally believe
The king had loved me all alongI had a dream that I was waking
At the burning edge of dawn
I saw the sower in the silver mist
And He was calling me home

And in a day where busy is god, bad news screams from the 24 hour cycle and civilization seems to have lost it’s filter, I am reminded that the light IS going to come.  We WILL see the fields of glory.  And, one day, we will be truly home.  Rest will be the norm.  Work will always be joy.  The ones I love will be always near, always whole, and always safe.
Glory.

The Turning of Peter (and maybe of us)

Last week’s post resonated with so many of you.  You wrote to me, commented on my Facebook page, and generally said you felt like it was written just for you.

This world is so dangerous.  It seems to be spiraling out of control, with sentiment against the people of God growing more sour, more violent, by the minute.  News reports are filled with so much negativity that I, for one, can hardly bear to watch it any more.

Just imagine if there had been a 24 hour news cycle during Jesus’ earthly life.  

Bodies hanging from crosses, children ripped from their mothers’ arms and forced into slavery or the military, crowds screaming for the murderer to be released while the Innocent One was nailed clean through his wrists and ankles…

Yes, I can see why Peter faltered and, in his weakness, denied he had ever known Jesus.

Because knowing Jesus is dangerous.

Today I read on in the book of Luke. Chapter 24.  

The disciples’ world was shattered as their best friend, and their hopes for the Kingdom of God to come, died on a tree.  In sorrow and grief they retreated, not knowing what to do now.  It was over.  Hope was gone.

Suddenly the door burst wide open and a group of women stood, breathless and eyes filled with tears of wonder, words stumbling over each other as they relayed what they had seen.

“He’s alive!  Jesus lives!  We saw Him!  He spoke to us!  The tomb is empty and He lives!”

Bull.

I can just hear the men, grumbling and shaking their heads.  They had seen Jesus die.  No one had ever survived a crucifixion and the soldiers had even pierced his side to be sure he was dead.  These women are grief-crazed and full of…

but Peter rose.

Three simple words pregnant with GRACE.  The one who denied Jesus, whose last interaction with the Messiah was that long and sorrowful moment of eye contact upon denying Jesus for the third time, who had done what he vowed he would never do and was surely beating himself up inside, rose.

Could it be?  It is possible?  It’s not over?  I have to know.  I have to GO.

And Peter rose and ran to the tomb.

The biggest failure became the first follower.  The fearful one became fearless.  The weak one…

Well, just read the second chapter of Acts to find out what God does with the weak ones!  Savor the words of Peter’s sermon at Pentecost (Acts 2:14-41) and read them with the memory of Peter’s denial of Jesus fresh in your mind.  LOOK WHAT GOD CAN DO!

I need this!  I need to remember, as I’m raising kids and fighting off the threats that surround my family, that God is above and beyond the worst the world can throw at us!  He is above Crucifixion and death, and He is certainly above social media and the 24 hour news cycle!

Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.  Acts 2:36

Peter spoke with authority, now fully convinced of the Lordship and power of the Son of God.

Am I?  Are you?

Oh, that I would learn to pray in power and the confidence of the Holy Spirit who is God within me!  What would happen if I lifted my face to my Father and declared my standing before Him, as an intercessor, a member of the Holy Priesthood, His precious child and warrior?  What if I prayed from a place of authority instead of timidity?

Because too often I squeak out a “please, God” instead of “this I know.”

I lament when I should be taking up my sword and standing in the gap as a warrior for my family.

I approach God with downcast eyes instead of boldness and outstretched arms.

Can you relate?

So today, sisters, let us rise and run to the tomb!  Declare who Jesus IS, because he LIVES and in His might we fight for our babes and the men we love!  I want to stop hoping and start knowing, praying out of a place of faith and expectation for what God IS going to do because I remember well what He has already done!

Are you in?  Lace up your shoes…it’s time to run.

Mama Bear

The only way joy will become a part of this story is if there is justice.

UPDATE:  The search team has found the remains of children in the area.  Here is a link to the post.  Please continue to pray and speak out.  Human trafficking is a VERY real and present epidemic in our country.  The victims are often children as young as two years old.  The body of Christ must be willing to be the hands and feet of Jesus and help however He may ask of us.

THIS IS NOT A TYPICAL #ALIFEOFSIMPLEJOYS POST.

I don’t know about you, but news articles about children being hurt or abused punch me in the gut.  I cannot bear the thought of an innocent child suffering.

But suffering, too often, occurs.  And even worse is when it is at the hands of an adult who should be protecting them.

This post will be short.  This post has no joy attached to it because what I have seen is dark.  The only way joy will become a part of this story is if there is justice.

Please, friends, go to #operationbackyardbrawl and brace yourselves for what you will see.  The videos (and language) are graphic.  Share all over social media.  Force the powers-that-be to pay attention and fight for these little ones.  The voices of those trying to help are being squelched, videos that expose the atrocities are being removed.  And, to be honest, most of us are more likely to like and share a picture of our friend’s new baby or latest new recipe than posts like this.  Our society is numb.  We just don’t want to think about it, much less confront it.  But you and I both know the power of an army of mamas who refuse to back down from a fight for the lives of their children.  We must fight…on our knees.

Do you believe prayer works?  Do you believe God listens and answers the cries of his people?  I’ll admit, there are many times it has felt like my prayers are bouncing off the ceiling.  And Satan would love to keep it that way.  He wants to render us ineffective, distracted, and focused inward.

The enemy is real.  The level of evil that is permeating the dark places in society is beyond anything I could ever imagine.  Watch the videos.  Listen to the horrific descriptions of what these little ones have been forced to endure.

We must pray for these children.  There may not be much we can do for them physically at this point but we can wage war in the name of Jesus in the spiritual realm.  Let the mama bears rise up and refuse to be silenced!  The children…our children…deserve nothing less.

It will take the power of God to stop this.  And stop it, He will.  One day every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus is Lord.  Until then, God has set us, His daughters, here at the watchtower.

Click here.

Then search #operationbackyardbrawl.

SHARE.

PRAY like you have never prayed before.

Come quickly, Lord Jesus.