Jenny Waltman

My heart is full of despair. I’m weary. Physically sick, emotionally exhausted, financially stretched, anxious. I want to go to heaven and be done with this place. I’m tired of liars, thieves, accusations, attacks from every side. My body and my soul do not make good punching bags. Working for Jesus is the hardest position I have ever taken. God help me to remember to tell people this when they sign up. Jesus tried to convince people not to follow Him because the road would not be easy and the way would be difficult. He sure wasn’t joking.

Last night I felt like the enemy was trying to kill me. Emotionally, physically, financially and spiritually. I felt like I was the target, too weak to run, hide behind trees, fight, or take it. In every way, I could barely stand. That’s all I could do. My prayers felt foggy and my battle gear would barely stay on. Though I wasn’t defeated, my mind was playing with me, and I felt so close to gone. How would I keep running this race, keep fighting the good fight, and enduring the suffering?  Am I a threat worth taking out? Does Jesus use me to advance His Kingdom? Seems like He chose such a weakling.

No one would believe me if I shared everything that happened in a day. It’s insanity. One attack after another. Sometimes ramped, always steady annoying. Could reinforcements take over for awhile?

About two weeks ago, I started waking up with this one verse, “even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me.” The first morning I felt fear. Why was God waking me up with this scripture? What bad thing was going to happen now, what evil? I hate evil. Consistently, this verse awoke me, until this morning, I understood.

Though I feel like all the combined circumstances have stacked against me and will suffocate me, it’s not death. It’s only the shadow of death. Evil is all around me, my circumstances have not changed, but I have a choice to fear no evil, because God is with me. He was trying to tell me, you will soon feel like you are dying. For days He had tried to show me the pain would be great in my heart, full of sadness, sorrow and anguish. But, God is with me. Do not fear.

My heart is filled with fear.  The “what if.” The what ifs constantly run in my mind. Always a scenario playing out in my head. My mind never stops. Torment. I have self-diagnosed PTSD.

So here I am, needing more of Jesus. Fragile. Heart-broken. Afraid. Sad. Desperate. Lonely. Terrified. Anxious.

Holding on to a promise that has always been dear to me…

“From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for Him.”
– Isaiah 64:4

My life is not my own. I’ve been bought with a price. I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. (Galatians 2:20, Colossians 3:3)

My flesh cries out, “Enough already. No more people. No more hurt. No more questions. No more emails, texts, messages, meetings, phone calls. No more offense. No more stress.”

God whispers, “My grace is sufficient, My power is perfect in your weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9)

God says, “Be broken. The world doesn’t like it, but I like it. Be dependent, you cannot do this life without Me. Be fragile, I am not angry at you for holding your breath, but you don’t have to hold your breath. I have you.”

God reminds me… Love costs. Jesus died, it cost Him his life to love you. When you love others in My name, it will cost you too. You have considered the cost. You have weighed the cost.

Remember the example of Paul in 2 Corinthians 12:14-15.  Don’t pursue the stuff of others, pursue the people. Most gladly spend and be spent for the souls of others.

The Word teaches me, today is a new day and this day has new mercies. Your strength cannot do this day, but God’s strength in you can.

My flesh says, “why did you choose me? My life is hard, I’m tired, I don’t feel like making another decision or praying for anything else. I’m inadequate for the task to which I am called. Can’t someone else do this life? I am happy to bow out and disappear.”

Dear daughter, when you died to yourself, I really started to live in you. It’s not about you anymore, it’s about Me. Quit asking why and how, and trust Me.

Everything about your journey comes down to one question, “will you trust me?”

My mind argues, “look man, I am incapable of loving like YOU to people who think I am stupid, incompetent and annoying. I am tired and I don’t want to care anymore. I don’t know how to delegate anything else. I don’t like leading and I don’t feel I do a good job.”

But then my soul cries, “help me Jesus, I want to obey You. I want to want to love even if people hate me, talk behind my back, or misunderstand me. I want to want to give everything to You every day of my life when it costs me everything. I want to want to be broken and raw and transparent even if people think bad of me. I want to want to serve You. I want to want you more than anything this world can give me.”

“For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” – 2 Corinthians 12:10

Today is a new day, a day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.

The kids need to learn math today. Two hours of math is good and God has given me those hours to give away to them. Help me give it joyfully.

A co-worker needs data that I need to look up. I have the ability to look it up and God will lead me to the best decision in response to the questions. My choice is to respond with a joyful heart or a foul heart.

Friends text with pain and hurt to share. The choice is will I blow them off or will I go with them to the throne of Jesus. God is giving me the privilege to pray with others, to come with them to Him. He’s keeping me desperate as He is the only One with solutions to their problems.

The emails and messages never stop. God gives grace to take one after the other. He tells me what to say or not say. My brain can’t handle all the data that comes my way. He’s got to equip me for every good work. With every correspondence, He’s teaching me to hold on to Him.

A meal needs to be created tonight. He shows me how to make lasagna out of the handful of ingredients we do have. I don’t have to worry about what we don’t have because what we have is always enough.

Every day, I am His child. He’s chosen me and only He will equip me. My competency comes from Him. He’s placed me in positions that are way above what I can do, so He’s sure to get the glory.

It’s obvious to the world that I can’t do my life. So it has to be something greater, something bigger than me. My life is only possible through the power of Jesus.

The dying to myself so Christ lives in me is a daily thing. I don’t have it all figured out. I’m not super human, nor am I crazy. But I am chosen and I have a little time to make an impact in the Kingdom. The passion is Jesus and if anyone loves me, they really love the Jesus in me.

Because me, well I’m a bloody mess. If it’s about me, I am throwing my phone out the window. I’m never talking to another soul. No one is getting another hug. I’m not going to stay up late to listen. I wouldn’t pray all through the day. My front door will be locked. And no more coffee will be shared. I will be alone and I won’t care. I will say all kinds of nasty. My heart won’t consider what breaks yours. I won’t sacrifice any more time, stuff, emotions. My life will be my own and I won’t ever consider how another person feels, thinks or what they may need.  I won’t answer another text, email, message or phone call. Seriously, that’s the yuck of who I really am without Jesus.

SO, today, I’m super thankful my flesh doesn’t rule me. My life may be challenging, but it’s amazing. Every day people trust enough to share their hearts with me and my gift is to pray for them, grab their hand and run them to Jesus.

My strength is insufficient, but my King is all sufficient. Amazingly, by grace alone, He lives in me and chooses to use me, when He knows I am weak, broken and selfish. Why He chose me as one of His children, I will never understand. I will never deserve Him or this life He has given me.

In some kind of only God way, He teaches me to love when it’s hard to love, when I’m tired and when people don’t love me back. He teaches me it’s never about me anyway. My life is about Him and I only exist for Him.

Because of who He is, I surrender to this insane roller coaster and I don’t jump off. How could I ever survive without Him anyway?? The calling is sure and the adventure is real.  The ride is a thrill. Sure, I get terrified, I close my eyes and hold my breath. Sometimes it’s slow and smooth and then an unexpected curve feels like it’s going to throw me into another planet, but the ride keeps going and I am ok. Would I really enjoy what my flesh tries to get me to believe that I want? Every day I see Jesus work, I hear His voice, I can read His word, I see His creation, I’m exposed to my sin and He takes me a little farther on an amazing journey that I can gratefully call – my life.

The emotions I am battling are super ramped. I keep praying. I wake up quoting the 23rd Psalm. My body aches. My greatest fear is to make a mistake that would hurt our ability to operate. Every day I trust God for the money we need to keep going. The battles are constant, fighting to protect ourselves. My days are piles of paperwork. Each hurdle I have to jump. Everyone else can say “I don’t know how” or “I don’t understand,” but I don’t get that privilege because someone has to tackle the confusion. My role is to resolve and to survive a constant state of “resolving situations,” I have to have some serious resolve. Only Jesus infuses me with the constant resolve that spills out of me.

Giving up is not an option for the calling on my life.  Not a day went by this week that I could do what I wanted. My life is too hectic for me to easily step away. The mortgage lender needs data right now. The injustice has to be fought and someone has to write the appeal letter. The promised renewal still is not renewed and the entity has to have an advocator. If we want to buy fuel on holiday, the gift cards have to be ordered. Our health insurance policy is not valid next year so a new one must be secured.  School has to be completed every week and the kids need the oversight. Articles are needed for a monthly newsletter.  Everyone needs to eat dinner and food requires preparation.  A fraudulent charge has to be removed from an account. Government paperwork has to be filed. The house needs to be cleaned again. A sick friend needs encouragement and another friend is getting married. The broken-hearted text should get a response and appeals need to be issued for an upcoming fundraising effort.

A friend asked my husband, “why haven’t y’all read the books I gave you?” If our friend only knew our time constraints. If he only knew how exhausted we have been, fighting wars that no one knows we have to fight, listening as we are told by others all the things we are doing wrong and should do doing right, verifying our children are receiving an education, responding to urgent needs, praying for people to experience Jesus, providing venues for others to give their lives away, and finding time for random outings. Consider our lives as one big case of misunderstood.

Maybe all the relational, paperwork, decision making, complaints, anger, mandating, overseeing and implementing is culminating  into a case of the panic. Ultimately, we are not good enough. Troubles always abound. The battles only subside for moments, but never go away. If one fire happens to go out, another one ignites.

Overstimulation. People are everywhere and they all want love and need it. With all my might, I try to focus and really listen to the person who has talked incessantly for hours. I think I was asked how I was, but then the person kept talking and never circled back.  At some point I need silence before I crack into a million pieces. My kids want to sit on top of me, people want to meet face-to-face, my emails and texts are filled with heavy and hard. God has called me way out into the deep, the overstimulating deep, and I am going to drown if I do not depend on His strength and mercy. He can do my life, I can not.

The pursuit is relentless, this love He has for me. His relentless pursuit of me, in spite of my “what-ifs” and my fears. I am a train wreck, all freaking out on the inside, wondering why life has to be challenging, lonely and battle after battle. His pursuit of my heart always stops me from wandering, from quitting and from apathy. Something about His relentless pursuit of me, compels me to continue to relentlessly pursue Him. The way is hard and the journey difficult, but His love somehow always has me wanting more. More of Him is worth more of the constant warfare, more of the pain of obedience, more rejection from those who are “allegedly” with us, more courage to live on little, and more loneliness as we question who are our real friends.

Where are the crazy Christians, willing for the pursuit of Christ to cost everything? Who understands how we survive on less and less every year? Who can we talk to about the struggles of our days? We have a privilege to pour out to the sick, the poor, the distressed and the brokenhearted.  We are those people so we understand. If I could cry myself to sleep, most nights I would. Every night I collapse into bed, all used up, for the life God has chosen for me. I am not some martyr looking for sympathy. Everyone wants to be understood, to be able to share the real and it feel normal because someone else understands. So many days I feel so confused, why is life with Jesus costing us so much, when others profess Him and their lives appear much easier and look as if their obedience costs so little? Are we missing something? What pain, sorrow and difficulty are these dear ones battling that we cannot see?

Jesus said the road would be narrow and the way difficult. And it is. (Matthew 17:13-14)

Difficult. More difficult than I ever imagined when I surrendered my life to Jesus at age five. The way of Jesus is costing everything. My time, my money, my kids, my husband, my friendships, my career, my reputation, my possessions, my pride, my sleep, my entertainment, my quiet, etc. Every bit of “my” has to die, so Jesus can replace all the “me” and “my” of life with Himself. Jesus’ time, Jesus’ money, Jesus’ kids, Jesus’ husband, Jesus’ friendships, Jesus’ career, Jesus’ reputation, Jesus’ possessions, Jesus’ everything.

Here I sit, possibly having lived half my life, and I wonder… has my first span been lived well. My childhood flew past in a wink. Then, university, my first professional career and marriage. A miscarriage and two children. Failure. Loss. Anxiety. Cancer scare. Exhaustion. Life keeps going. Six or seven years left and the house will likely be quiet again. The children may live on the other side of the world, or attend a university themselves, and new friends may fill the rooms they leave behind. My hair is already turning grey and one day I will wake up a grandmother. My knees will give out, my hearing may waiver, and then maybe my heart will stop beating, and God will take me home.

“The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away.” – Psalm 90:10

How can I look back at what’s gone? Maybe it is valuable, for a minute, so as not to repeat the mistakes I have already made. But, I’m learning time is of the essence. The  past is gone and today may be my last day or I may have the same amount of time I’ve already used up. Either way, life is moving fast, here today and gone tomorrow. My life is grass that withers and my accomplishments are flowers that fade.

Help me Jesus to look at right now. What am I doing that does not matter? Show me where I am wasting time, resources, money. How am I using my words, what am I watching and what is filling my ears? Am I holding my thoughts captive and thinking on the right things? Where am I investing my life, am I noticing those around me, and do I think of others above myself?

Do I understand that I’m a child of God and I should fear Him. My life decisions should be made on the basis of “Am I pleasing my Heavenly Father?” The adoration and intimacy I have with Him, the experience of His moment to moment love for me, and the gift of Jesus, should give me a very healthy and real desire to surrender to His plans for my life.

Do I consider God’s anger when I ignore His word, when I diminish the value of being His child, and I live in such a way that displays my desire for myself, not His desires for me. I want to want to live so yoked up with God that I consider Him in my decisions, actions, spending, time. Anger comes from disappointment and disobedience. How am I using my time in ways that would anger my Father? His Son died for me so yes, I live from grace to grace, but grace is not an excuse to disappoint my God.

Am I taking seriously the death of Christ for me? Do I live intentionally? What am I doing with my “empty” time? Is my reading purposeful? Or my walks in the neighborhood? Am I noticing the people at the library or the gas station? Do I look for efficiency to expand my time? Where am I wasting resources?

Am I considering Jesus?

“Who considers the power of your anger, and your wrath according to the fear of you.” – Psalm 90:11

God help me to number my days, to use them wisely. Let my life count. Don’t let me waste a moment evaluating someone else’s life or comparing mine to theirs. What a waste of valuable time! Make my moments matter. Teach me how. Expand me and give me a heart of wisdom.

“So teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” – Psalm 90:12

Help me be your hands and feet. Jesus, please seep out of me. When my life is over, let people remember YOU, not me. Teach me to live in that manner of humility, hidden in Christ and dead to myself. Give me eyes to see what has eternal value and courage to let go of the temporary. Even if I stand alone, let me be so eager to follow you that it doesn’t matter.

The life of faith is hard and good. Toil and trouble every day, but God’s steadfast love and faithfulness are all around us.

And so we pray also, “Return, O Lord! How long? Have pity on your servants!” – Psalm 90:13

Help us in our weakness. Keep us. Care for us. Strength us. Satisfy us. My soul longs to come home. This world is not my home.

“Satisfy us in the morning with your steadfast love, that we may rejoice and be glad all our days. Make us glad for as many days as you have afflicted us, and for as many years as we have seen evil.” – Psalm 90:14-15

May the joy of the Lord be my strength, that I might be glad in hardship and difficulty.  Let not family, money, entertainment, possessions, recognitions, friendships or occupation satisfy, but only Christ.

“Let your work be shown to your servants, and your glorious power to their children.” – Psalm 90:16

Yes Lord. My eyes see your work and your amazing glorious power. You let me see and WOW it is good, very, very good. My heart delights in You, Your work among me, around me and in the depths of who I am. Bless the Lord, oh my soul, Bless the Lord.

“Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us, yes, establish the work of our hands!” – Psalm 90:27

Here I am Lord, my life such a vapor, but You are from everlasting to everlasting. Bestow  favor on my paltry life and let it bring you great glory. Establish my hands, all the work of my hands, and let that be the work only You place upon me. Let my confident “no” give way to an obedient “yes” teaching me to number my days well. Here’s my life, an offering before you, stop my wandering and make my crooked ways straight, so that I do not waste the moments I have left. I am but dust, here today, and only You know about tomorrow. The past is over and I am uncertain what the future holds. Teach me to live in the reality that every “today” may be my last one.

My hope is only a flicker. The winds of life blow and almost extinguish it. What has happened? Where is my faith in the midst of constant attacks? My heart aches and I don’t understand why I feel so much sorrow and double the fear. Anxiety hits me without reason, my spirit anticipating difficulty before its even here. The reasoning of my mind takes me to the worst. My body shakes in fear from the actual realities of my life. But, if I stand back and consider, all the circumstances appear to be some entertainment sitcom, not the depth and breadth of my life.

Almost three months in the books of this pain filled year.  My mental, emotional, spiritual, financial and physical capacities are stretched to complete capacities. All of them. My faith may be stronger than I understand and my light flicker may be more stable than I comprehend, but all I can interpret is being a blurry mess. For weeks I have no ability to communicate how I feel.

Exhaustion stays as a heavy blanket. When I sit down to read, I fall asleep. My endurance levels are absolutely minuet, waking up at 7am and wanting a nap by the time I walk to the couch. Each day I am making the choice to walk 15 minutes and drink 32oz of water. Maybe a subtle help? Food has never been something I think about, so I make a conscious effort to remember to eat. The demands of two jobs and the hundred or so people who come to our house every week all take energy from my depletion. My hands never lift a broom to sweep or a sponge to clean the basin.  My bed stays unmade and once a month or so I hang up the clean clothing in the basket by our bed. My energy is rather conserved for people, work and meal prep.  My body is weak. I’m too small. Medicine makes me feel drunk. The cold, the flu, allergies, stomach aches, the common plagues, that’s what takes me.

My mind is scattered, thinking of how this circumstance or another circumstance will impact our family. An unexpected vehicle accident, personal accusations, complaints, sensitivity, unmet expectations, imperfections, bills, etc. My mind is overthinking every situation and the variety of situations feel too many. No trust, only a runaway overactive brain. My thoughts are far from held captive and I’m thinking on the wrong things. I preach to myself, but I’m still struggling. My imperfections seem heightened and my humanity dominate.

Most every day my eyes read the pages of my Bible. My brain processes and tells my heart to trust, to remember the faithfulness of God, to rest in His love. My spirit is weak. I feel far from Jesus even though His Spirit lives in me. My life is a sold out mission for Jesus, a surrender and an offering, but it feels so lame and ineffective. God keeps refining me in spite of me. More of Jesus is what I want and I delight when I understand what He tells me, when I sense His presence and when I see Him act. Our God acts on behalf of those who wait for Him. He does. I’m a witness to His goodness. Worship fills me and podcasts, as well as praying, listening to testimonies and studying His word. But it’s like I’m starving and surviving on morsels when my soul needs more. What do I do? The days fly by and whether I get an hour or four, I’m still famished and desperate.

Emotionally I fake it to I make it. Well, kind of. I hide myself in our home, pushing to keep going. The hot tea is served to the visitors that stop by, meals are cooked to sustain us, and I keep pushing through the work lists on my calendar. My contribution feels paltry. Tears are always wanting to fall, but I push them back, not knowing what to do with them or how to handle such intrusion. Some moments I want to be held, but most often I don’t want to be touched. My heart feels crushed, beat down by the life we live. Shame comes running because of the guilt I feel with my little flicker of light faith and my repeat sin of anxiety. Incapable of pulling it all together, God shoves me in a leadership role. Doesn’t He know I can’t do it?! He always chooses the wrong people, or the right people, who are incapable of the calling without Christ. People keep asking questions and watching my life. I don’t have it together. I’m dying, while I’m living. I’m trying to breathe. Long gasp.

And then there’s money, those round coins and sheets of paper. Why do I think about something tangible? Why do we have to seek it every day to survive? We are working with all we have and it never feels like enough. The enemy uses people/circumstances/the temporary to steal, kill and destroy my joy, my contentment and my hope.  Every day we need to pray for provision, a constant need in our lives. And almost every day I panic, worrying about tomorrow, when today is good. But thus far. We can pile the stones. We can testify to the thus far. Why am I afraid?

Before proceeding with a self-diagnosis, I’m reminded that I still laugh out loud, my kids still capture my attention, God is equipping me to be a fully present listener, I like to eat when I remember, and my life really is so incredibly good. Even if I am a basket case, God loves me. And deeply. He is using everything to refine me. When I wait, I am expectant. When I’m afraid, He is peace. Even in all the exhaustion and fear, He never leaves me.

The valley of the shadow of death equals terror to me. I am committed to a hallway, somewhere around midway, holding onto the door casing, fighting with everything in me, not to keep walking. I’m terrified of the attacks that will hit me at every open door so I don’t want to walk down the hall. I want to run down that hall or maybe fly, but the hall is my life and I have to walk it or crawl it or somehow get down it. God has chosen me and clearly given me life with a calling. My wants and desires do not matter. I have to get down the hall and to keep going makes me hyperventilate. The thought makes me grip the casing tighter. How can I walk through the shadows? What will blindside me? I don’t want to talk to an attorney. I don’t know which bill to pay. I don’t know how to get more rest. I don’t know if my kids will rebel. I don’t know how to bring peace to chosen chaos. I don’t remember to eat. Everything is out of our control.

God is with me. Why do I fear? But in my humanity I cannot let go of the door casing. The hits that have come through the open doors, I have already passed, have bruised me, tormented me, broken my heart, caused pain, and taken from me. I don’t want to keep walking, I want out. Not suicidal out, but free of this world, eternity with Jesus out. The Spirit does live in me and for freedom Christ has set me free. But how do I live free in the midst of the attacks that come from every side.

How do I suffer better? More fully? How do I embrace pain and sorrow? I don’t like it. How do I cope with conflict and loss when peace does not seem to come? Is it normal this dull ache in my heart? The life of following Jesus promises suffering and trials, but can I live this journey well? Can I really walk through the valley of the shadow of death, down that hallway called “my life,” and hold my head high, confident in Jesus, with no fear of what’s to come?!

For this I hope. For this I endure. For His glory. My little hope flicker shines because Jesus is in me. I am fully used up, impossible for this journey, not capable to keep the flame burning. He is the hope of glory. He fans my flicker. He sustains. He will teach me how to suffer with rejoicing. He gives rest, love, peace, joy in the midst of turmoil, death, uncertainty and rejection. With God’s enduring fanning into my flicker of a flame, it will not be snuffed out.

“Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church, of which I became a minister according to the stewardship from God that was given to me for you, to make the word of God fully known, the mystery hidden for ages and generations but now revealed to his saints. To them God chose to make known how great among the Gentiles are the riches of the glory of this mystery, which is Christ in you, the hope of glory. Him we proclaim, warning everyone and teaching everyone with all wisdom, that we may present everyone mature in Christ. For this I toil, struggling with all his energy that he powerfully works within me.” – Colossians 1:24-29

A flicker is enough.

Over and over this year I have been reminded how incompetent I am. Friends have come for coffee to tell me what a horrible leader I am. To remind me that I am the worst communicator ever. To explain how I hurt them or offended them. Clearly what I say never makes sense and I should always have a plan. One of my closest friends yelled at me, ” $&/@ someone needs to take charge out here.”  Some tell me to rest while others complain that I require too much downtime.

Inside I want to cry, gather everyone around to listen and explain, “I didn’t choose this place, this role. I don’t want it. But, it’s not about what I want. I have to obey God. Do you know what it feels like to feel like a failure and to be reminded, by people you thought cared about you, that you are never good enough.  Do you know what it’s like to constantly be learning how to sacrifice everything for the sake of the Gospel?  No, I’m not some hero or a wannabe philanthropist.  People are around me every waking hour. Do you think I always think that’s fun? My life is not my own, it has been bought with a high price. My decision is to give everything and it’s not easy. My worship is shaky authentic. My Jesus dance is not perfected. I’m very much learning the moves and I am in desperate need of Jesus.”

In my comings and goings, I feel the judgment and the avoidance. I see you living your life carefully omitting me.  When you avoid eye contact or smile and practically run away from me, I get you don’t have time for me. But it really hurts to think that when a crisis comes your way, you will expect me to have time for you. Does something about me repulse you? If I speak what I feel, then it’s often a guarantee to be left alone. Too passionate. Too radical. Too much Jesus.

But if you need prayer, you will text or call me. I feel you questioning or mocking my friendship with Jesus when you don’t need it, but demanding I pray for you when you do. If I tell you what God is teaching me, I don’t feel like you really want to know.

Do you notice that you hide your life from me? You don’t want to tell me when you go out to dinner, your kids schedule or how much time you watch television. You treat me like I’m your conscious or your voice of conviction or your judge.

“If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.  When Christ, who is your life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.” – Colossians 3:1-4

All I’m trying to do is live for Jesus. Nothing more and nothing less. To seek the things above knowing Jesus is my life. Yes, I’m a failure, some of you told me, but I already knew. What I know is God isn’t a failure. He’s really good, actually perfect. And because of Jesus; the Holy Spirit lives in me.

For years, I lived a life of religion, but my life did not bear much fruit. Today, my religious practices may look inconsistent or impractical, but I am more in love with Jesus. My heart finds delight practicing abiding in His presence. My life has more peace seeking His plan for our family. My kids recognize hurt around them and are learning to love all people. My husband is laying down his life for others in a very practical sense. Our lives are less and less our own. The “in light of eternity” perspective helps me realize Jesus is training my heart and mind to live more like Him and less like the world.

The world is less and less appealing to me. When I verbalize those feelings, I am not saying you are less and less appealing to me. My prayer is we all look more like Jesus and less like the world. When we look like the world, I feel grief. I don’t know why. But it just comes and if I express that pain, many take it as judgment. So, I am not sure whether I should keep quiet to have you in my life or risk being real and losing you in the process.

We can justify our every move. How often we say this or that is such a great opportunity or place to share Jesus. But, do we share Him in those this and that’s? Are we remembering we represent Christ every day? Our lives are His flesh and blood representation to the world. We exist to represent Jesus. Do we live like that? Do we seek Him in all we do? That’s all I am trying to do. Why does that annoy so many people?

Here’s the deal. I love Jesus. I want to look more like Him today than I did yesterday. Any competency in my life id Christ, because I’m not good.  If my following Him makes me lose you, it breaks my heart. But, I refuse to live for myself (or for you) when I have the opportunity to live for the One who died for me. Jesus is taking me deeper and deeper into a place of giving up everything to follow Him.

Today, I give you up.  I lay down every naysayer, every person who questions my motives or wants me to live based on man’s opinion. I give up the world and all its traps and temporary pleasures. I give up because I want to live abundantly. I love you for who you are in the inside, not your stuff, how you spend your time or your accomplishments. I love the Jesus in you, the kind words you say, the hug you give a hurting friend, the time you shared your story of faith, the moments you put yourself aside. I’m hoping that’s when you can love me, the times you see Jesus.

My faith is weak today tired of everything. Exhaustion covers me like a heavy blanket. Sleep comes and goes in waves. My energy is gone. How can this have happened so fast?

Almost a month has gone and no one has had time to listen, nor have I had time to talk. Life keeps coming, fast. The next thing and then the next demands my attention. Rest seems to taunt me, like a cruel joke. Elusive. The nightmares are back. The battle wages on. The battle is spiritual. The enemy roams around seeking to run me into the ground, to dry me up, hoping to make me own the discouragement that chases me like a dark cloud.

The truth is… I am free. I am chosen by God. My life is a calling. My purpose has nothing to do with me. The joy of the Lord is my strength. Hope holds me. Jesus carries me.

The good of Jesus is in everything. My prayers to remember to breathe, the construction potty on the side of the road just where my daughter needed it and enough fuel to make it home demonstrates His faithfulness. Every “help me” is a place for Him to shine. He is present, ever present. He shows me and thank God I can still see. I don’t forget.

My heart is frustrated. Where is the passion for my Jesus in the saints around me? I feel like I deserve to see it, to feel it, to grow in Christ with an army. My heart feels like a grumbling mess. The world swarms busy around me and I can’t hear anyone depending on Jesus or sharing what He’s done. My inner argument is “where’s the church?” and the Jesus in me argues back, “you are the church.” My selfishness says, “I don’t want to grow in Christ alone” and “who do I talk to?” But the Jesus in me reminds me, “grow anyway, keep listening and do not forsake your first love.” Oh yea, I can talk to Him.

A friend shares me something from her journal that God is teaching her. I’m delighted and excited. We read some scripture together. The real is good. Other friends pray about selling everything to move to the other side of the world. I should quit generalizing the problem and focus on a solution.

Did our mentors not teach us, “do not articulate a problem unless you plan to propose a solution?!”

The problem is me. My focus is on the world around me. My focus needs to stay on Jesus. Our circumstances have been hard for ten years. Why does “the next thing” scare me, when I know the faithfulness of God? We lack no good thing.

“Help me” I want to scream. To scream at the apathy I notice around me. But, then I remember I am that apathy, the very thing I don’t want to be. My prayer life feels weak and disheveled. Here, there and everywhere. The Bible is my sword, but I’ve neglected its power by praying my words, not His. Why am I holding back? I should be yelling “Help me” to Jesus.

The pity party has to end. If I am the only one left to follow Jesus, that has to be ok with me. No turning back.  If no one comes with me, I have committed to follow. The world has to stay behind me and the cross in front of me. My life is His because I decided to follow Jesus.

How do I stop thinking about what isn’t to focus on what is? How do I surrender everything? How do I live in His strength when mine is gone? How do I read one more email and respond to another text message? How do I rest when attacks haunt me?

The best and only answer I know is Jesus. More and more of Jesus. My survival for this next moment is Jesus. Jesus has to be a part of every facet of my life. Jesus needs to be asked about my schedule. Jesus should give me the words I speak. Jesus as my protector, leader and deliverer. All of Him and none of me. Jesus.

Wake up with Jesus. Drink coffee with Jesus. Read the words of Jesus. Ask him to do the work in me so I can live out the words He said. Pray about everything. Listen for His voice. Do what He says, immediately. Comfort like Him. Love through Him. Make the meals for Him. All work as worship. Rest. Be joyful and patient. Wait on Him. Trust. Faith. Give in, daily, to His relentless pursuit.

Luke 9:57-62

“As they were going along the road, someone said to him, “I will follow you wherever you go.” And Jesus said to him, “Foxes have holes, and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head.” To another he said, “Follow me.” But he said, “Lord, let me first go and bury my father.” And Jesus said to him, “Leave the dead to bury their own dead. But as for you, go and proclaim the kingdom of God.” Yet another said, “I will follow you, Lord, but let me first say farewell to those at my home.” Jesus said to him, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Who knew surrendering our home to Christ would create so much adventure?

Last May we felt this strong impression that God wanted us to sell our house. We had no idea why, but we wanted to obey Him, so we called our realtor. He asked us, “where are you moving?” We laughed and said, “we guess God will show us that detail when we get to it.”

We love our house. We’ve experienced God so much in this place. He has walked us through heartache and joy. We have updated the home with random refurbished items which include many different textures and building materials. We were good to grow old there and die there. But, we wanted God to know, we love Him more. So, the realtor hammered that sign in the front yard.

Friends would come over and see that sign and ask, “why is your house for sale? where are you moving?” We would tell them God told us to put it up for sale. “But why? And how did you know God told you to do that?”

Do you ever get that strong impression in your spirit that you know that you know, that’s Jesus? Does your spouse ever feel the same thing as you when you haven’t talked about it or dreamed about it together? Have you ever read the scriptures that tell us to surrender everything? How does one explain the voice of God, the intimacy of a journey with Jesus? Experience is our greatest teacher. The longer I’ve known Jesus, the easier it has been for me to know His voice, His leading and His direction. The more we surrender to His ways, the more our hearts understand that we don’t dream up the crazy. If our hearts and minds give us some idea we would never choose on our own, we start to understand His voice. When I have a strong sense that I should do something and that something is completely out of my comfort zone or different than what I would choose on my own, it’s a good sign that I am hearing from Jesus.

What about the really cool and creative ideas that we want to claim for ourselves? Let’s be real. We are not that smart. God fills us with the dreams and visions that we have for how to decorate our homes, teach our kids, serve our husbands and bless our friends.

Friends would confess, “when I saw that sign in your yard, I cried because I meet God in your home. I love to worship Him there and I don’t want to not be able to come over.” Really? I had no idea that friends loved my home as much or more than we loved it. Our home was a place of refuge for people, a place where they experienced Jesus.

A few months into the listing of our home, I was praying and asking God, “why is our home for sale when no one is buying it?” As I prayed and sought God, He showed me that His word is all over our house and even if we had it ‘for sale’ for Him to encourage complete strangers who came to look at it, that is enough. He reminded me how a family had stayed in our home for a week and how much He had used our home to minister to their hearts. They had shared how they walked around the house reading every scripture, picking up books to read them, and sensing the presence of Christ in a strong way. The peace of knowing our home could minister to strangers delighted me.

Then one day, He showed us a brilliant idea. What if when it sold, we moved around and lived with a different family every week for an entire year. In lieu of paying for staying with friends, we could use the money to invest in missions around the world. That excited us! We prayed more and talked to our kids. My husband said, “Let’s make a list of people we would ask to live with so God knows we are serious and that we are willing to do anything for Him.” So we did. We prayed about friends we would want to learn from, non-Christians we could live with, people who lived completely different from us, people who lived in very low financial conditions and the rich. We asked God to show us the people who would expose us to a picture of our entire society. Our kids were so excited. They commented on how one family would be difficult to live with and how another would be fun. Here we were, sitting on a park bench, dreaming about living out of suitcases for a year.

Maybe it was after God gave us the vision and helped us get a plan in place that we really started begging God to sell our home. Friends started coming over and we were asking them “what do you want out of our house?” We realized all the stuff would have to go as paying for storage would take away from our ability to give. The more we imagined our stuff scattered in all our friend’s homes, the more excited we became. We were ready to give it all away for this adventure with Jesus.

We were ready and our house wouldn’t sell. God gave us this amazing vision. He helped us make a plan for how to implement the vision. He had grabbed ahold of our hearts and made us more than begrudgingly willing.  Jesus had our entire family totally pumped and excited to start moving around our city every week for the next year. Seriously, we were jubilant, joyful, let’s do this excited!  And then there we sat, waiting and praying for God to sell or rent our place.

Maybe it’s about the willingness to obedience that delights Him. The complete ok to sell our home and give our stuff away may have been the ultimate lesson. Maybe the house had become a question of our devotion and delight. Did we love our place and our stuff more than Him? Maybe the entire “sell the house” journey was a pre-requisite course of “will you obey what I tell you to do with this house I have entrusted to you?”

We cannot fathom all God wanted us to learn by listing our home, but I can clearly see what we would not have learned had we sat around analyzing, debating and considering the infamous questions, “Is that God speaking to us? Does this make sense? Am I dreaming this up?” Maybe our realtor thinks we are crazy (which He did) or our friends won’t understand (which many didn’t) or our banker will question this decision (which she did), so we could have stalled, delayed or said no to the still small voice. Or, we can say, “ok, I don’t understand this, but yes, sign me up, list the house tomorrow, let’s not delay, and we will choose to trust what doesn’t make sense.”

When we say yes to what doesn’t make sense to the world, God teaches us and gives us many opportunities to share Him. Guess what our realtor said?! “Being friends with you guys makes me want to jump off the mountain with you to see what happens, to have faith too.” He saw Jesus.

We learned that our home is a place of refuge and worship for so many of our friends. We had no idea that people would weep at the thought that they wouldn’t be able to come worship Jesus at our house anymore. Knowing how much Jesus speaks to others who visit our home, makes us want to have more prayer and worship gatherings, more intentional fellowship and more random meals together. Our home is a memory maker and that’s a sweet treasure that God would use our place as a sanctuary for His people.

Our home is not our own, but it is God’s and He has entrusted it into our care. We can use for ourselves or we can use for Him. When our homes become revolving doors, they become everyone’s home.

When no one knocks anymore, God has grown a family. We have the opportunity to share our space or hoard our space. We think we need our place of refuge, but God is our refuge and He knows what we need.

In December, our realtor suggested we take the house back off the market because it hadn’t sold. We prayed about that decision and had a peace that God had something different for our home now. Maybe we had learned what we needed to learn. Maybe the realtor and some of our other friends had learned what they needed to learn as well.

So, we quit cleaning up all the time and we settled back into a house that doesn’t always have to be “show ready.” We stopped making the beds every day and our bathroom may be a little dirtier. The doors keep opening without knocks and many more people have come in and out of this place. Hundreds of meals have been consumed, prayers prayed and worship songs sung. The house is this living breathing thing full of life and purpose and hope. We are the blessed ones to be able to stay in this place that many call home.

In January our family grew again as another child moved in with us. This last week, another friend has also been living with us. Our count this week for how many sleep here is seven. That changes every week and every weekend. Our new normal is what God intended. He didn’t sell the house, because He had more plans for it.

The house was never about us, but about Him and how He will use it for His glory.

We have a new freedom with our home, a new chill. Friends help clean when they stop by or stock toilet paper for the other hundred people who will come by during the week. Another friend may drop by fresh produce or venison. For meals we plan for a minimum of eight people and we always have enough. A night with twenty five isn’t unusual. Maybe our neighbors don’t recognize the kids running around outside or the cars, but it’s not about them either. We set aside quiet times and someone may drop by to do schoolwork or use the Internet for work.

The weekends are an eclectic mix of friends meeting other friends, shared meals, naps on the sofa, people reading or sharing worship music, kids running to and fro from the creek, people sleeping everywhere and a cup of tea or coffee.

Jesus owns our place and we will do whatever He has for it next.

Romans 12:13 – “Share with God’s people who are in need. Practice hospitality.”

This may be my sign.

Anxiety may be a serious problem for me if I have found myself in the fetal position, on the bathroom floor, for the last two consecutive mornings.

Anxiety could be a bit of a struggle if I am having diarrhea almost every day and usually multiple times per day.

Maybe just maybe if I\’m shaking at the thoughts of responding to an email or making another decision, I could have a problem.

Some days this silent, vicious killer eats me alive from the inside. Maybe some people can see that I feel like I am dying, but I think most of the world doesn\’t notice. You know how it is, we are all so focused on what everyone thinks about us that we never notice how others really are. Maybe you don\’t do that, but I can be so self-absorbed and lost in the world of me and my problems.

The enemy wants to own me with this anxiety mess. I\’m convinced. And the sad part is, some days he does. I\’m a child of the Most High, the King of Kings, the Lord of Lords. Jesus lives in me. The Spirit of God lives in me. I have access to all power, but somehow the sneaky jerk can own me. When that happens, I am furious. Furious at the slime ball, furious at my situation and mostly furious at myself. My ability to berate myself is second to no one. My issue with perfection is not pretty. So, when I let satan take me to my knees, I feel so utterly beat down and most of that beat down is from my own self.

The funny thing is, satan takes me to my knees.  Maybe he doesn\’t realize the stupidity of that, but he is taking me to my Lord. Where does our power lie? On our knees. When we are most desperate for Christ, we are most connected to Him. Something about desperation helps us shut up and hear His voice. Something about desperate teaches us to let go of control and hold on to Christ with all we\’ve got. Something about broken makes us seek a Healer and Restorer. There is just something about it. The valley is our place of deepest growth. The deeper we go into the pain, the deeper we connect to our Father.

The doctor gave me the nerve pills once. My weight was way too low and she was concerned. I tried, I really did, to take those pills. I took the full dose. I tried to cut them in half. The more I tried the crazier I felt. I\’m not sure what it was but I couldn\’t handle it. It felt like those pills were making me a different person, lost somewhere in a fog, and I hated it.

So, for now I battle the beast. The beast named anxiety. Or more accurately, some days I battle and those days I lose. Other days, I get out of the way and let God battle for me and on those days He wins. Some days it\’s a mix of my control and Him.  I\’ve learned I\’m controlling and that gets on my nerves.

I like order and hate disorder. Irony has me in the midst of what may sometimes (or all the time) feel like chaos, but God is showing me order in the midst of what seems insane. God\’s order for my life looks a lot different than I expected. God\’s order isn\’t always the spreadsheet, my checklist and my plans. His order is moment to moment. Do this now, ok talk to this person, next pray, keep praying. Prepare extra for dinner in case. Spend more time in my word today because you are going to need it for what I put in your path. Stop and read this email. Call that friend now.

It\’s hard to explain, but you probably experience your own God order in what others may see as confusion. I\’m not talking about an oxymoron here. It\’s really a beautiful thing. Preparations are allowed but flexibility is required. He\’s always got some surprises in store. Always. A few years back I read an awesome book where the writer challenges the reader to pray for thirty days \”Surprise Me God.\” The stories that follow that prayer are incredible. The stories are endless.

Lean in close, let me tell you a secret. God is always working among us. God is always incredible, amazing and WOW. God is always full of surprises. The issue is – you and me, we are clueless and unaware. We miss the surprises because we aren\’t paying attention. We chalk it up to coincidence and luck. We don\’t believe that God could be a part of everything. We ignore the interruptions because we think we don\’t have time. We fail to listen to others because we are consumed with ourselves. That\’s why the prayer of \”surprise me God\” is so powerful, because for thirty days we learn to notice. Every day before and after the thirty day experiment is amazing too, we only need a change of perspective to \”get it.\”

Anxiety isn\’t a surprise for me, God. It\’s a lingering annoyance that I can\’t fling off my back. Anxiety can drive a sane person crazy and a well person sick. Maybe the surprise is God uses our deepest aches to show us who He is. God comes in the dark with us and reminds us, He will light the way for us. God listens to our self-pity and He keeps heaping us with mercy. God never abandons us when we fail to notice Him. Maybe that\’s the real surprise, the surprise that will keep coming past the cool, shake ourselves out of the complacency, thirty day experiment.

Tears are ok so I don\’t have to hold back.

The birds are singing again this morning and they are loud.

The hours it\’s not on me, I feel so free.

God isn\’t finished with me.

Anxiety may always be the beast, but God is going to use me when I\’m weak and meet me on my knees.

\”For this reason I bow my knees before the Father, from whom every family in heaven and on earth is named, that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God.

Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever. Amen. – Ephesians 3:14-21

This is my sign.

“And this is the testimony: God has given us eternal life, and this life is in his Son. Whoever has the Son has life; whoever does not have the Son of God does not have life.”

– 1 John 5:11-12

A week or so before Christmas my husband and I were lying in bed talking about what our kids would receive for Christmas. We had no money to spend, but we were confident in His provision. It’s a weird feeling, empty but complete. I remember him asking, “what are we going to do about gifts for the kids for Christmas?” We had no ideas, no plans. Thank goodness they didn’t want anything because we had nothing. I remember falling asleep with us saying, “God will send something.”

The stuff has lost its luster for our family. It no longer holds this amazing Christmas morning power. Our daughter kept praying every night, “God help us to remember the purpose of Christmas this year and not be focused on the presents.”

We usually like to make gifts for all the people we love, but this year’s time was filled with overnight guests and friends stopping by for tea and coffee.

The day after my husband and I talked in bed, a package arrived. We hadn’t ordered anything so this package was a secret treasure, a surprise, a love gift from someone close to our family. I told the kids to go outside as this may be some Christmas in a box. When I cut that box open, I couldn’t believe it! An entire case of various cereals was looking at me.

My kids pray for cereal. They love cereal. It’s the morning delight. And here was an entire box for them for Christmas. Just like that, here comes Christmas.

We waited, not knowing what was next but hopeful. Someone gave some lego extras our son would love and a game our family could play together.

My husband realized he could turn some old phones into iPods without having to activate the phones. He put their favorite music on their “new iPods” and downloaded books for them to read. I thought it was amazing how God gave him the idea to use something we already had to customize something so special. (My son is reading a book now on his Christmas iPod.)

On Christmas Eve, my daughter came in the kitchen holding up a winter coat and told me she needed to give that coat to a friend for Christmas. An hour later, a friend texted that his sister didn’t like a coat that was given to her and his mom wondered if our girl would enjoy it. So literally those coats passed as a dad left with our daughter’s old coat and our friend brought by the new coat. Really God, You are so intentional.

We received a call that someone had loads of extra gifts and no one else to give them to. I asked if we could give a few of them to our kids. They said sure. Those gifts showed up around 2pm on Christmas Eve and there you go, Christmas covered, right on time.

That’s Jesus. Right on time. More than we could hope for or imagine.

Late that night, we put all the different gifts out on the floor, amazed at the provision of another year. Really God?! I think I counted eight gifts a kid. That’s crazy. He’s so relentless in His love for us.

The kids opened gifts with great delight. Celebrating every item that came straight from our Papa’s hand. Everything was beautiful.

After breakfast and family games, the kids started sorting what they would keep and what they would give away. We have a family rule that for everything we receive, we give an item away.

Examples: If you receive a new shirt, you give away a shirt you already have or you can give away the new item. For every new item we receive into the house, we give something away.

They started making their giveaway stacks. Most of the items in the giveaway pile were their new gifts. Maybe that sounds odd, but they select new items to put away so they have birthday gifts to give their friends for the rest of the year. They don’t want to run out of birthday gifts during the year so they let go of a lot of their new treasures. They think about what their friends would like and plan for the year.

It’s amazing to watch as the various items they joyfully received a few minutes before are the very items they are excited to give away. It’s our normal so there are no tears and no heartache to this sorting process.

This year, we planned some time with friends on Christmas afternoon. They started looking through the giveaway pile and realized that they had enough gifts for all the friends they would see. So, they started wrapping a gift for every friend that would come to the gathering.

They were excited to bless their friends and as I watched them give the gifts, the delight was pure. They wanted to bless the people they loved and there was laughter and smiles in their sharing. No one knew these were the gifts they had just received. They didn’t mention their sacrificing. I don’t think they even felt they were putting themselves aside. All we saw was joy.

Later my parents came by and the kids were eager to give them gifts. My parents were embarrassed as they hadn’t brought the kids any gifts. I couldn’t help hearing the kids tell them it didn’t matter that they didn’t have gifts for them. The kids told them, we will probably just get you some more gifts for the next time we exchange presents. We want you to have the gifts we have ready for you. Then, the kids proceeded to give them gift upon gift they had made for them or found along the way. One gift had been won from a scripture memory contest at church. Another made at a craft camp. Creative love that blesses the heart of another.

Focusing on Jesus on His birthday is becoming so much more than the reading of the Christmas story or singing the happy birthday song. Christmas can be an adventure of faith, of waiting, of anticipation, of giving, of others. Christmas can be a learning experience of how to live and love like Him. Christmas gives us a perspective of others first living. Christmas is giving and receiving. Christmas is stillness, rest and family. Christmas is Jesus.

We ended the day with a hot meal, playing instruments, a family movie and another game. The day wasn’t complicated, we didn’t eat too much, we had enough, we enjoyed one another, and it didn’t require any money.

To me, that’s Jesus. He’s Provider. He’s laughter. He’s family. He isn’t complicated. He doesn’t bring drama or confusion. He’s adventure and joy and peace. He brings light to darkness and hope to despair. He’s enough so we don’t have to fill the void with any temporary pleasure. He feeds us and provides all we need and much more than we need. He is enjoyable. He is constantly teaching us, challenging us and loving us. He is the greatest treasure. His love is unending and can’t be bought. Money doesn’t make us closer to Him and the lack of money doesn’t separate us from Him. He’s perfect and complete and we lack nothing when we live life with Him.

Christmas is incredible. But wait and anticipate because the rest of the 365 days are amazing too. That’s Jesus. It’s His nature. His character. His way.