As long as we carry an internal need to prove something:

• Capacity
• Capability
• Wisdom
• Discernment
• Accomplishment
• Rightness
• Worth

Even if it is a need to prove it only to ourselves, we are operating in the fleshly doubt and unbelief of:

1. Who God has said HE IS, and
2. Who God has said WE ARE.

We place ourselves in bondage, defining an outcome that we think will prove our “good-enoughness"; we set milestones to point to as justifications against our past missteps or people who have not believed in us.

We render ourselves unable to walk in the freedom of the steps God is directing. We complicate the simplicity of the joy of taking the journey completely resting in His delight and approval. We shut ourselves off from receiving  the love that He pours out.

We amplify, instead, the idea that we must earn, in some measure, our freedom, our joy, and His love.

To walk with faith – with fearless abandon to His direction – we must stop looking to prove ourselves.

We must receive His proof that He loves. That He directs. That He has set a path before us.

We must remind ourselves that whatever the outcome of our following His path, if we have listened, trusted, received, and obeyed, we are justified in Him.

Justification in Christ does not end at our salvation; at our rescue from the eternal consequences of our sin. It extends to every single step we take in relationship with Him.

HE says “Well done.”

HE silences the accuser.

HE PROVES GOOD ENOUGH.

Stop struggling to prove you are. He already is in you. Rest. 

Once upon a time, when Dan and I were newlyweds, we were living in El Paso, TX. Due to his military work rotation of one week on days, one week on nights, and one week in the field, I was frequently left alone. I had my own pursuits to occupy me, attending the local community college and volunteering as respite care at a children’s shelter. Those solo endeavors often found me driving across the Franklin Mountains (El Paso – the city – is so vast it is its own county) with windows down to enjoy the humidity-free breezes and the music loud enough to overpower my singing along at the top of my lungs.

We were in that lovely time of getting used to marriage, getting used to separations and reuniting, getting used to making couple friends… it was all new and shiny. And hard. Love didn’t automatically conquer all; we found ourselves in the middle of disagreements over the simplest of things some days. We found that communication, even though it had been a strong point of our dating life as we dated long-distance for a year, was sometimes hard.

When you’re hurt but don’t want to hurt your spouse by telling them the truth that they hurt you.

When you’re angry but know that the cause for your anger is probably a little bit silly. Or that it is totally justified and you’re not willing to stand down from making righteous correction.

When you’re embarrassed that you know you messed up but aren’t sure if your apology will be met with good graces or ridicule.

When you’re frustrated and want your spouse to just understand where you’re coming from, but  they don’t.

In-person working through of those things is a lot different than long-distance. You see the immediate impact of your own words. You feel the sting of someone else’s and can’t hide your face behind a letter (or keyboard!).

During one of those many solo trips across the mountains, a newly-aquired cassette tape played a track that spoke deeply to me. Applying its very simple principle helped both of us learn to communicate more openly with one another. It helped us to get our own selves out of the way and remember that we were to prefer the other over ourselves [Ephesians 5]. Written and sung by a band called The Choir, the song is “Listen to Her Eyes.”

                               Promises tumble in the breeze
                               Never mind apologies
                               When she shakes, words are not enough
                               Wrap her spirit in your love
 
                               If your love is more than words
                               Listen to her eyes
                               If your love is more than words
                               Listen to her eyes
                               Read her tears like pages
                               Hold her when she cries
                               If your love is more than words
                               Listen to her, listen to her eyes
 
                              
Here was a description of the kind of understanding that I desired from my husband. And, the more I pondered it, here was a description of the kind of attentiveness that he desired from me. To step back from our own emotions a moment so that we could see what our words were doing to the other. To walk through a hard situation together, with compassion for one another’s viewpoints and a desire to uphold one another. Confronting weakness and fear with “I am here. I’ve got you.” rather than “You are ridiculous.”  Mere promises mean nothing if not backed up by the day-by-day working to not only verbalize “I love you” but to truly see and support one another.

The Scripture says that Adam and Eve were in the garden “naked and unashamed.” [Genesis 2:25] Not only were they physically unclothed, but they were unveiled in their thoughts, plans, and activities. In the daily Presence of God, they worked together to tend the garden and their family. This was the design of the Father for His Creation.
It requires us to see one another. To put down the lenses of our own interests and listen to our spouse’s eyes well. We’ll learn to see when they are hurt. What brings them joy. Their silent pains and inward triumphs. The silly antics that make their laughter reach their eyes.

​We will develop a deep trust that whatever our weaknesses, whatever the blemishes we see in ourselves, whatever struggles we face, our spouse’s love will cover us and walk with us to the strengthening and betterment of both.
 

Involuntary smiles. The kind that expose your teeth and make the sides of your eyes crinkle.

It’s the natural response every time a giggling child comes into view or a toddler uninhibitedly dances and sings to their favorite song despite it being the 100th time it’s been played that day alone.

There’s a reason those subjects become viral videos.

Why, then, do we suppress our giggles? Refuse to admit the playfulness that lurks just below the surface? Why, as we grow into adulthood, do we begin to fear the response of others if we fling our arms wide, sing at full voice, and dance with whatever rhythm we possess?

We are wired for joy. Despite that, and against our innate design, we allow the cares of the world to grow up and choke the life out of us. We allow the dimming of the twinkle in our eyes that our Creator placed there and that our Father delights to see. We call it unsophisticated, immature, unprofessional. Some even go so far as to call it unholy.

It’s time that we reclaim joy from the oppressive grip of the enemy.

It’s time that we stop agreeing with the one who would silence our song and steal the dance from our feet.
​
It’s time we laugh until we can hardly catch our breath.

Yes, there are things that must be done. Yes, there is a time for work and serious deliberation. Yes, there is darkness in the world. There is also blinding Light. And there is a time for joy.

Unabashed. Unfiltered. Full-out. Loud. Infectious. Joy.

Let’s practice: Find one place and time this week to be out-loud joyful. Tell that voice that says it’s going to make you the center of unwanted attention to hush.  Twirl in dance. Sing. Get with a friend and share the silly thoughts that have occurred to you. Pull out favorite photos or videos and smile at the memories. Play a simple (or complex!) game that you love.

“A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.” Proverbs 17:22
 

I am currently seated in the ground floor of a local landmark. Above me towers 226 feet (69 meters) of vertical space. The only accessible areas are at the ground floor and the very top. Everything else in between – hundreds of cubic feet of concrete and steel – serve to lift the tower and the visitors to that uppermost access point. This whole place serves one purpose: an elevated viewpoint.

You see, the top floor is not steel and concrete. It is glass. North, South, East, and West are unobstructed views for miles. On clear days, you can see 35 miles, multiple counties, and a host of geographical features. It’s a very different view from the ground floor where all is enclosed and immediate. Even when you are outdoors on the property, your view is restricted to neighboring businesses and a highway.

Decades ago, someone realized that getting higher up changed your understanding and appreciation of the area so drastically that it was worth great investment to build a singularly-purposed structure to achieve it.

The Lord tells us that His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. His view and understanding is exponentially greater than our own. The purpose for His plan is clearer from where He sits and His understanding of the outcome is as plain to see as the highway junctions are from this tower.

Oh, how we need to get some perspective. We, from our ground-floor vantage point refuse to travel the road because we can’t see where it goes. We argue that it’s nothing but business after business, unchanging scenery and predictably futile effort while He sees that if we’d only set out, we’d find ourselves encountering refreshing lakes and rivers, dense oak hammocks, exciting bustling cities full of connections and opportunities… ultimately a vast ocean that spans from horizon to horizon with His love.

But how? How do we gain a higher spiritual perspective? We can’t push an elevator button and get there.

Here’s the mind-bogglingly beautiful part: we ask. It is His desire to lift us up to where we can see from His view. He wants to give us glimpses. When He does, and we act on those glimpses in trust, we find ourselves in a position to receive more and more of His vantage point until we cease to question it.

What do those glimpses look like? They look like understanding a passage of Scripture more clearly than before - and then applying it to a life situation. They look like seeing another person momentarily as more than the annoyance they have been to you; recognizing them as the loved child that God sees needs encouragement – and then encouraging them. They look like not knowing what to do, praying, and having the quiet but clear voice of God give you an answer – and when you act on it, it moves you forward.

Experience eventually teaches us that His view is richer, more vibrant, farther, and more varied than we could ever imagine. Long experience brings us to a place where we trust His view so completely that ours can be completely fogged in… and still we will walk forward at His direction.
​
Lord, lift our eyes to You. We know that we still see dimly, as though through cloudy glass, but to the extent that we can grasp, we ask you to give us Your viewpoint of our world, the people we encounter, and the road we are to travel. Grow our faith as we obey what you show us. Cause us to marvel at the beauty and grandeur of Your plans. 

Way back in elementary school science, I was introduced to the idea that for every big, noticeable object that I saw in my world, there were uncountable numbers of infinitely tiny things on which the form, substance, and characteristics of that object relied for its very existence. I was taught that each of those miniscule things – atoms – were held together by bonds of shared energy in patterns and balances that allowed the objects to maintain their integrity.

It is a law which matter must obey. A break in the energy bond, an imbalance in the pattern, and the object mutates into something other than it was meant to be or disintegrates altogether.

It is a physical law that gives understanding to a spiritual law.

The things that are built in the spiritual realm - relationship, family, community, the body of Christ, the Church – MUST rely on their smallest parts being knit together in proper balance and with the energy or power of the Holy Spirit holding the bonds.

You are one of those atoms. Your immediate family members are the atoms which make up the primary bonds to which you must be connected in order to create a stable structure to then expand out into community and church and worldwide bonds. But it all starts at the smallest level. You and those in your household.

May I give you permission? If you are striving to build a structure of relationship that expands broadly, wait. Pull back if you have overextended your stability. Bring it all the way back down to its smallest, most immediate level and repair the bonds that you find unstable there.

Does it mean letting go of some big ideas? Maybe for a time.

Does it mean admitting that you’ve reached too far out there without the connection to the Spirit to sustain it? Probably.

But that is often what is necessary to build a far-reaching, monumentally impactful structure that will stand the test of time without mutating or dissolving.

Start with yourself. Do you need to solidify your bond to God through private prayer and study? Do you need to spend time allowing Him to take you back to the beginning and remind you of who you are, why you are designed as you are, and what your connections and purposes in the world are meant to be?

Are you solid on an individual level, but find that your connections to your immediate family lack the fruit of the Spirit? Do you see cracks in that very base level of the foundation of your life? Spend time there. Allow God to repair the bonds through the power of His Spirit. Don’t build out in the community until home is solid. You will risk covering up and hiding a fatal flaw in the structure that will eventually come apart when the weight put on it by outside bonds and connections becomes too much.

It’s difficult to admit that we need to be brought back to more basic, building-block things to become effective in our larger goals. We often don’t  want to let go of our deliberately-sought connections that have actually caused an unsightly and ineffective mutation in our purpose and design. We feel a sense of shame, condemnation, and defeat.

Bring the whole mess to the God who knit you together. It is, after all, Him in whom we live and move and have our being. [Acts 17:28] He can help you disassemble the improper ways you’ve connected to others and reconnect you in healthy and productive ways. The One who provided a way to empower you where you are powerless, who connects you to those who will share their energy with you and be strengthened by what you bring to the bond, will build in you and with you the tangible and eternally impactful structures of His Kingdom.
 

May the sorrows of this year become the fertile ground for the seeds of joy in the new year.

May your trust in the goodness of a loving God grow deeply rooted as you see that He works even the unexpected, difficult things together for your benefit.

May hope shine brightly as you learn to identify the shadows of lies at work in your life and expose them to the banishing blaze of Truth.

May you carry only what is beautiful, true, helpful, and holy with you into the coming year.

May you be strengthened, given perseverance, and equipped with every necessity to endure with grace the path laid before you.

May you remember: in the absence of every tangible thing, in the solitude of your individual path, the Lord God Almighty, the Holy and Righteous One, the Messiah and Redeemer, the Resurrected One in whom you are given life, the Spirit of Truth, the Light in the Darkness walks with you.

“Do not be afraid.”

Enemies on every side? “Do not be afraid.”

Uncertain circumstances? “Do not be afraid.”

Someone speaking lies and poisoning minds about you? “Do not be afraid.”

Curses and the powers of other gods threated against you? “Do not be afraid.”

A task set before you that seems overwhelming? “Do not be afraid.”

Over and over in the Scriptures, when His people faced hardship, hurt, and harm, God reminded them “Do not be afraid. I AM with you.”

How fitting, then, that when angelic messengers announced the birth of Messiah, Emmanuel, God with us, they began their announcement with, “Do not be afraid.”

Finally, the peaceful confidence that had been whispered to faithful individuals could be shouted from the heavens; now every person had access to Good News that there was no longer cause for fear.

Messiah had been born and would complete His purpose. He would topple the powers that held the whole earth captive: lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes, pride, self-centeredness, idolatry, death. Everything that causes mankind to war inwardly or outwardly would be conquered. Power and authority would be held in His righteous hand and given freely to those who would choose His Kingdom over their own small domains.

Yet, many of us remain terrorized by already-defeated foes.

Many of us cower and hide when troubles arise, believing that no help will come.

He has already come. He is "God With Us" still.

May your eyes be opened to the freedom that He brings. May your mind be convinced that He is the True King who has overcome every enemy that you face. May your heart bow to Him as Lord so that you may become a citizen of His Kingdom. May your desires derive from what He loves. May you find yourself standing tall, shoulders squared, eyes clear, heartbeat steady, confidence in every line of your being as you face whatever you face this season, knowing that I AM is with you. Do not be afraid.
 
 

Do we miss it when God does the miraculous on a small scale?

It is a season in which we are reminded of vast, sweeping miracles:

               *Angels appearing to a betrothed couple, announcing a pregnancy and encouraging a marriage.

               *Signs in the stars appearing to wise men

               *Angels appearing to shepherds

               *The birth of a Messiah

               *Consecrated lamp oil lasting for 8 days

These are miracles whose stories have been recorded and repeated for generations.

But what about the little ones? Those times when God intervenes by His hand in the affairs of men to make Himself known and to cause us to pay attention, to worship Him, and to understand that we are loved by Him. Are those little ones, well, little?

I’m sure that you have already suspected that I contend there are no little miracles. Every single time that God reveals Himself to us – His care, His character, His plans, His provision – is a BIG DEAL. It’s just that sometimes when He does it, it is on a small scale. We’re prone to missing it. More accurately, we’re prone to dismissing it. Brushing past it as “just” a small thing, “only” a minor moment of a need being met or a protection occurring.

How we miss out by doing that! Rather, we should be examining those little miracles the way a child stoops down to study the tiniest creature on a sidewalk. Marveling at its design. Questioning its purposes. Delighting at its travelling across the child’s path.

So, if you will, in this season of history-making miracles, indulge me as I recount a miracle that is taking place in our household right now. It’s the miracle of the never-ending dish soap.

Yep. You heard me right. I’m not kidding. I’m not being sarcastic or flippant. We have miracle dish soap.

To the left of our kitchen sink sits a 75 oz bottle of Dawn dish detergent. It has about one-half inch of soap left in it.

Before I go on, let me give you some context. This year has been a year of God asking Dan and I to trust Him at levels we’ve never tried before. He led Dan out of his well-paid position at the end of February. He led us into starting a new business venture. He has repeatedly said “NO” when we have gotten scared about finances and started thinking about putting out resumes. He led us to make some significant investments in Trim the Wick and the things He has told us to support. We have had Him reveal the spiritually-justified idol that financial security and responsibility had become in our lives. We’ve repented and actively leaned hard into living in the truth that God and God alone is our source: spiritually, materially, in every way possible. His job is to provide; ours is to be obedient.

We’ve half-joked that “Well, if He’s going to be our source, we’re going to have to learn to expect Him to provide EVERYTHING… because at some point, we may not be able to provide ANYTHING!”

Y’all. He is. Providing everything.

Right down to the dish soap.

That one-half inch of dish soap isn’t anything spectacular. That’s what happens when you use up dish soap; it gets lower and lower until you run out.

Except it has stopped at one-half inch of dish soap. I’m honestly not sure how long it’s been like that; I know that we started noticing it in September. Right before Hurricane Helene hit, I ran to the Dollar Store to pick up a few things “just in case” we lost power (we did). One of those things was a small bottle of dish soap because ours was almost out (about one-half inch left) and you go through it quickly if the dishwasher isn’t an option.

September.

October.

November.

Now, halfway through December.

That same one-half inch of dish soap is still washing our dishes.

We aren’t deliberately being sparing with it. We’re using it normally… it just stays right there! Our little miracle. Our big, daily reminder from our Father that He is our source.

I don’t know what little miracles are happening in your life, but I do know that God is constantly doing things to reveal His love to us. If you’re not seeing it, maybe slow down a little. Deliberately examine what’s going on in the small, daily moments of your life. Be like that child examining the minutiae around yourself. I’d be willing to bet that you’ll find a place where God is revealing Himself to you through loving care, provision, protection, or direction.

When you find where it is, take the time to marvel. Stand in awe of Him. Allow your one-half inch of dish soap to be a cause for worship. 

We had the joy of catching up with our eldest son recently. Our calls aren’t frequent, but when we get together, it’s an event. We get the video chat going, whatever device we’re using gets set in the center of the household action, and it’s as much like living life together for a couple of hours as it can possibly be. Our kids who live at home drift in and out, stopping to say "hi" or have silly sibling moments; we carry on folding laundry or watching a football game or whatever life looks like at that moment, and we include one another.

This time, life looked like Dan and I having just had a planning meeting for Trim the Wick. Our heads were full of ideas for upcoming teaching and business plans. We were brimming with the overflow of what God was pouring into us in the way of direction and clear purpose for the coming months. As we shared some of that with our son, he noted how much fun he was having “watching us grow and develop into this thing.”

I’m not sure if I can fully express what it meant to have our son tell us that he is still watching us. He is still looking at how we continue to grow, still taking note of lessons that he can take away from our lives (even though we do give him cause to shake his head at us from time to time). He’s rooting for us and taking joy in our growth even as we have done for him. It has taken me a bit to process the honor that he paid us in that statement, the encouragement that what he sees in our lives is a net positive, and the responsibility that remains on us to grow and lead well no matter the ages of our kids.

It brings to mind Paul’s letter to the Philippians, where he sets himself as an example to be followed while simultaneously stating that he hasn’t yet fully attained the perfection of faith that he seeks to walk in. In chapter 3, Paul writes that he “press[es] on toward the goal for the prize…” and encourages all the mature believers to “hold true to what we have attained.” (emphasis mine)

There are many things in our spiritual walk, family, business, and community lives that are yet imperfect. They are areas that we continue to grow into, praying and seeking God’s refinement in our lives. Yet those things that we have learned well, the lessons that have taken root and are growing fruit in our lives, set not only a foundation for ourselves but a pathway for others to follow toward their own growth.

Y’all, you may be in a messy time in your life. God may be correcting some things. He may be opening your eyes to a new direction He’s called you to walk. He may be asking some things of you that both excite and intimidate you. Wherever He has you, lean into it. Press on. You aren’t a completed work yet, for sure, but you also aren’t as unfinished a work as you once were. Hold tight to what you have attained and keep moving forward.
​
Somebody in your life is watching, too.
 

There’s been much said of spiritual warfare of late. Battles seem to abound on every side and believers are warring with praise and prayer, wielding their weapons with what skill they have.

Yet, I have heard many express that they are beginning to weary. Starting to feel the weight and the exhaustion. Looking for moments of rest but finding that in the quiet spaces they are hearing the weakness of their bodies, the worries of their minds, or the doubt and fear the enemy is whispering.

I’ve been there myself lately.

And the Lord did as He often does with me: He gave me an earworm of a song on repeat. It’s simple. I learned it in Sunday School when I was very young. You may know it:

I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart.
Where?
Down in my heart.
Where?
Down in my heart.
I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart.
Where?
Down in my heart to stay!

v. 2: Peace that passes understanding
v. 3: Love of Jesus, Love of Jesus

The first 3 verses lay claim to the Truth of God’s promises for my individual life. The Joy of the Lord is my strength. (Nehemiah 8:10) As I cast my cares on Him, His peace that passes all understanding will guard my heart and mind in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 4:6-7) Nothing – death, life, angels, powers, principalities, things present, things to come – can separate me from the Love of God in Christ Jesus. (Romans 8:38-39)

I love the progression, though. As I remind myself of the Truth, as I allow my mind to be renewed by the washing of the water of the Word, I find my spirit strengthened. Rest and restoration begin to flow into my mind and my body.

And then, with all the fierceness of a confident child who knows they have the backing of someone bigger and stronger than themselves, I can sing verse 4:

And if the Devil doesn’t like it he can sit on a tack.
Ouch!
Sit on a tack.
Ouch!
Sit on a tack.
And if the Devil doesn’t like it he can sit on a tack.
Sit on a tack to stay!

It’s okay to admit the frailty of your flesh, the sorrow of your soul, and the weariness of your spirit.
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Allow yourself to be renewed and refreshed, and then take up your armor once more. Your enemy is an already defeated one; the victory has been won in Jesus’ finished work and resurrection. We have only to stand firm in the Truth, keep walking forward, and remind ourselves and the enemy exactly where he can take his attacks!