Colleen James

Tag: faith

  • Ebbs and Flows

    Photo by Ben Mack on Pexels.com of the ocean waves rolling into the shore

    “The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.”

    Job 1:21b ESV

    My oldest son suffered a concussion in late March. He was in PE at school when it happened. Apparently, he got a little carried away with the activity at hand and slipped backwards, impacting the back of his head on concrete.

    The school nurse called to let me know, explaining that she had put ice on the area then later sent him back to class after the pain had subsided. Although it didn’t sound like he needed me to come get him, I decided to pick him up anyway. I figured he probably needed the emotional support if his fall was as bad as it sounded.

    He was called to the school office after I arrived, his eyes bloodshot from crying.

    “Can I see you, Mom?” he then asked.

    I chuckled nervously at such a bizarre question, but then grew concerned.

    “I don’t know. Can you see me?’

    He kept pointing to his right eye, so I covered his left one and asked him again, to which he responded that he couldn’t. Soon after, we were on our way to the emergency room after a quick detour to leave the baby with JJ, who was fortunately home that afternoon.

     The ER was packed that day, and I feared we would have a long wait. Thankfully, we got into triage soon enough, and the medical staff put Liam into a room right away thereafter. Soon, he was taken to get a CT scan. As we waited for the results in his assigned room, he experienced a host of other worrisome symptoms. His arm felt weird and his mouth felt soft (his descriptions), and he all the sudden felt hot, was drowsy, and at one point wanted to throw up. Fortunately, all of these symptoms, alongside his eyesight, cleared up before we left the emergency room that day, and his CT scan did not show any brain injury either. The medical staff diagnosed it as a concussion and gave us precautions to follow for the rest of the week. He stayed home from school the following day.

    On Wednesday, I hesitantly took him back to school, making sure that his PE coach and teachers knew he was not to run or be too active per the doctor’s orders. Although he seemed to be just fine after school that day, he got sick with something unrelated that night and had to stay home the following day. Fortunately, he recovered quickly and was back to school by Friday.

    We had a fairly normal weekend, but then CJ got sick on Monday night with the stomach bug, and I caught it from him that Tuesday. A few days later, JJ started to feel sick, too. CJ developed an ear ache around this time and started antibiotics, and we all were starting to feel well once again. I was glad to have this all behind us. But the following weekend, Liam was not feeling himself, and he caught what seemed to be yet another stomach bug just a few days later. And just as he had recovered from that, he caught pink eye and had to stay home from school once again. During all this, I took CJ back to urgent care, as his ear infection did not resolve itself through his initial round of antibiotics, and as of last night, it was determined at the ER that he must be allergic to the new antibiotics he just started, as he developed a rash and has been having stomach pains also, which may or may not be from the allergy. Time will tell.

    It has been a hard season, and lately I have been feeling discouraged and depleted.

    Back in January, as my family and I were experiencing a different set of inconveniences, I was tempted to peg this year as a bad one. Fortunately, I have lived long enough to recognize that, as hard as a year may be, it’s not all bad. Each year has its set of joys and sorrows. Much like the ocean, life is full of ebbs and flows.

    Lately, as we experience this waning as a family—as the “tide” recedes beyond our reach, I think of how much I need to release to God what I’ve only ever had an illusion of grasping. Now is the time to surrender to Him once more. It’s the moment to ask Him for the willingness to be flexible and for the desire to do His will. Moments like these make us remember that all good things come from God and belong to Him in the first place. Am I willing to surrender these good gifts back into His hands?

    I won’t lie. I don’t really like to be in this place. But while I’m here, I hope I can make the most of it. I pray I can seek to worship God in it. And as I learn to surrender to Him in this season of ebbing, I trust that His love, joy, peace, and so many other good gifts will flow into my life from His good hand.

    “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

    James 1:17 ESV

  • Stories of Redemption and Chocolate-Covered Pretzels

    Picture of chocolate covered pretzels. I made these so I could have a picture for this blogpost, and then I ate too many. My sweet tooth is alive and well, folks!

    This is a story about my favorite bag of chocolate-covered pretzels, which is somewhat similar to the last story I shared.

    It starts one evening years ago when I was preparing a dessert for a meal I would be hosting the following day. I had already started making the dessert (if I recall correctly) when I realized I was missing a few necessary ingredients, so I was soon off to the store to buy them. While there, a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels caught my eye, and since I have such a huge sweet tooth, into the shopping cart they went.

    Back at home fifteen minutes or so later, as I was talking to my younger sister on the phone while putting my groceries away, I stopped our conversation mid-sentence.

    “I can’t find my chocolate-covered pretzels!” I complained.

    By now, it was getting late, and the city where I was living at the time wasn’t so safe. In some ways, it was tempting to simply forget about those pretzels and stay home. But I just couldn’t. Those pretzels were mine! I had paid for them fair and square, so there was no way I was going to leave them behind!

    I shortly got off of the phone with my sister and made my way back to the store once again, and as I drove there in the dark of night, I sensed God reassuring me of a truth I already knew–that He would never abandon me. I was His, and He would never leave me behind.

    I also couldn’t help but think of the parable that Jesus told of the lost sheep, as follows:

    So he told them this parable: “What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he has lost one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the open country, and go after the one that is lost, until he finds it?
    And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

    Luke 15:3-7 ESV

    The mundane task of retrieving those pretzels all the sudden became this meaningful moment as I meditated on God’s Word and the fresh perspective my “lost” bag of junk food was giving me.

    There is something really beautiful in knowing that Jesus doesn’t just settle for the 99. It’s precious, because we were all the one lost sheep at some point in our lives. We were lost, but Jesus knew we would be found. He would seek us out and draw us to Him, and there would be much rejoicing in heaven over our own repentance.

    I realized that,  if I could go back to the store that late of night to claim a bag of chocolate-covered pretzels that only cost a few dollars, then how much more would Jesus seek out His lost sheep and never abandon those who were part of His fold, because He paid for them all by His very own blood. I’m so grateful that He doesn’t leave the one lost sheep behind, and I’m especially grateful that He sought me out and brought me into His fold.

    To conclude my story about the pretzels, I got to the store a few minutes later, and the cashier had my bag on hand and readily handed it to me as soon as I approached her. Fortunately,  the rest of the evening was uneventful as I made the dessert and munched on those pretzels. Ironically enough, I don’t even care for pretzels that much, but those chocolate-covered ones were irresistible that night, and they were all the tastier after my effort to retrieve them and because of the deepened appreciation of the gospel they caused me to have.

    I don’t think I’ll ever be able to eat chocolate-covered pretzels without thinking of this incident and the lessons it taught me that evening, and I’m thankful for that. The gospel is worthy of reflecting upon every day, so I’m happy to have another thing to remind me of it.

  • Stories of Redemption and Smashed Rings

    Picture of the ring after it was repaired

    I fumbled around with the bag of sweaty clothes that I had just thrown into the trunk of my car as I looked for the ring I had been wearing before I went for a jog.

    I didn’t know the exact time, but I knew I had to get to the school library soon so that I wouldn’t be late for my evening shift. The ring seemed to be nowhere in sight, unfortunately, so I made the short trip to my job in resignation and promptly told a friend sitting outside of the library about my loss.

    The ring wasn’t very expensive, and perhaps some people would find it silly for me to be so sad about it. But I hate losing things, and it was also one of two rings that I had bought while living in Mexico, so it was sentimental to me.

    Looking at the clock, my friend suggested I retrace my steps. He was certain I could search a few more minutes and even offered to help. So, we raced back to the other side of campus and soon found the ring, shining in the sunlight and smashed upon the road.

    Neither of us were able to undo the damage that had been done, but then my friend remembered a mutual friend that specialized in jewelry making. So, soon after, I contacted her, and she gladly agreed to help. 

    Days turned into weeks, and my friend contacted me at one point to let me know that this particular piece of jewelry was proving to be a bit challenging. She would need more time, which was fine by me. 

    Weeks turned into months, and there was still no word on the ring. Soon, I had graduated and was moving down south for a job at a Spanish speaking seminary. Still, I had not forgotten about the ring. Several months into my stay, I contacted her about my jewelry.

    At this point, my friend kindly responded by letting me know that she felt a bit irritated that I had never offered to pay for her services. The ring was taking more of her time and resources than she ever expected it to, and that, in turn was keeping her from other projects that could be making her money.

    It was an embarrassing email to receive, most of all because I was mortified by how ignorant and ill-mannered I had been. But I apologized for my naivete and offered to pay, and she sent me the bill, agreeing to finish repairs soon and ship me the ring.

    I sent the check, and she sent the ring, adjusting it to fit me even better. And I wish I could say it was that easy. However, the whole ordeal was a bit painful to me because the cost to repair it was nearly three times its actual purchase price! But I started to understand something after mailing that check and waiting for that ring. I started to see the gospel more clearly. 

    The truth is, we’re all like that ring. We were created to be used by God for His good purposes and to walk closely with Him as we glorify His name, but the sin that entered the world through Adam and Eve has marred us all and has separated us from Him. Our sin separates us from Him.

    And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience.”

    Ephesians 2:1-2 ESV

    But God, being rich in mercy, provided a way.

    But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, [5] even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved.”

    Ephesians 2:4-5 ESV

    He purchased us back through the blood of His own Son. Jesus paid the price so that we who were dead in our sins could believe and be redeemed.

    Although my ring was relatively inexpensive when I bought it, it held much more worth to me when I paid so much more  for it to be restored. How much more value must we have, then, that Jesus would pay for us with His own blood!

    We were created by Him, and now He has given us a way to be restored and redeemed by Him, too. There is no greater love than this! We are so precious to Him, and I’m glad to have a physical object that reminds me of just that.

    Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. 

    John 15:13 ESV

  • Trust God in the Process

    My first artisan (non-sandwich) sourdough loaf

    I never thought I would be one of those people. It’s not that I had anything against them. I just viewed them as an exclusive group that seemed nearly impossible to join. For one thing, I couldn’t imagine ever knowing anyone within that circle. But even if I did, I had some semblance of understanding that it would take some work to stay in the club, and I wasn’t sure I was up for the task. But then a friend had me over last year, and as we caught up on each other’s lives, I realized she was part of this group. And soon, without me even asking, she was giving me a slice of fresh baked bread to eat, a loaf of bread to take home, and a starter to begin making the bread on my own. Before I knew it, I had been inducted into the club–the elite club of all things sourdough.

    About a week later, after reading information on the website to which my friend directed me and texting her a handful of times throughout the process, I had produced my first loaves of sourdough sandwich bread, and my family and I were hooked!

    As we ate the slightly sweet, chewy bread, I knew this needed to become a permanent part of our lives. Somehow, I kept up with making it even after the baby was born, but my sourdough making skills took a turn for the worse by that summer. The starter seemed to be deteriorating in health.

    I took it out of the refrigerator one day with the intention of feeding it every day and nursing it back to health. But instead, I forgot about it most days until I realized that the dreaded red mold,  which I had read so much about, had claimed my precious starter.

    This could have become the end to my sourdough journey, but by now this bread had become a staple to my family and me, so I decided I would simply make my own starter.

    Doing so proved to be simple enough. Add filtered water and unbleached flour to a jar each day, discarding some of the starter as it started to grow.

    There was nothing difficult about this process per se, but when I had to start feeding the starter twice a day, laziness and a lack of motivation set in. Fortunately,  I was nearly done with the process, so I mustered up what little sense of determination I had left and saw the process through. Today, my family and I enjoy fresh baked sourdough bread because of that starter I made back in July.

    Shortly after making more sourdough starter, I told a good friend in El Paso about the blogpost I was hoping to write about the experience (some writing projects sit in my head for a long time), and as I told her about all the steps and how I had to trust the process despite my own laziness, her response to me made all the difference. She simply spoke about trusting God in the process.

    The truth is, we can follow a process in order to see certain results, but even then, the results are not always guaranteed.

    Since joining several sourdough groups online, I’ve seen this to be the case with a few individuals who have followed the sourdough “rules” to a T. Their process has been perfect, but it hasn’t produced the intended results.

    This, of course, extends way beyond making sourdough.  We can “trust the process ” as far as relationships are concerned, or dieting,  or finding a job or being successful in life. And following a reliable process for any goal is certainly better than not trying anything at all. But if all our hopes and expectations are in what the end results of that process should be, then we could be setting ourselves up for potential disappointment,  because even the best processes can fail. They can fail, but God won’t.

    Lately, I find myself in the middle of a process that brings angst to my heart when I fail to surrender the end results to Him. I’m trying to self-publish a children’s book, and as I read various information about the process, nothing seems too clear cut to me. This, in turn, leaves me uncertain about what to do and how to proceed at times, and it’s easy to give into fear that this daunting process will only lead to disappointing results. But the idea of trusting God in this process brings a sense of calmness to my heart. I know I can honor Him by seeking His guidance and believing He will show me what to do. I can also ease my fears by asking God to make my primary motive to please Him and then seek to do so as I proceed.

    The end result to this process may not be all that I hope for it to be. But to know that God walks with me in it, ready to guide and teach me and bring further healing to my heart changes how I view the process. I don’t walk this path alone, and there will be plenty of adventures and treasures to unearth as I walk through the process with Him.

    Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.”

    Proverbs 3:5-6 ESV

  • The Weight of My Worth

    Photo by Ketut Subiyanto on Pexels.com of feet standing on a scale

    I stopped weighing myself daily almost two months ago. Deep down inside, I knew it was an unhealthy habit for me since I allowed the number on the scale to dictate my initial thoughts and feelings of the day. Nonetheless, I justified my actions, fearing I would let myself go and gain back all the weight I had lost over the years if I didn’t keep up the practice. But then Liam said something one day that made my heart sink. At only five years of age, he was becoming a little too concerned about his own weight.

    Right then, I knew I had to change. I needed to break free from the lies I was believing so that my children would not also be held captive to these same false thought patterns. The next morning, I steered clear of the scale though temptation beckoned me to step onto it several times throughout the day. The second day was much the same, and by day three, I silently tucked the scale away to try to silence the temptation, but the struggle was still the same. These simple acts merely brought my deep-seated issues to the surface. The battle had just begun.

    The following weeks forced me to recognize just how much I had put my worth in my weight, but God also gave me clarity during that time to recognize some of the reasons for which this stronghold formed in the first place. Crazily enough, the enemy took details from my birth to begin to form false perceptions about my body in my mind. Whenever my mom would tell people how much I weighed at birth (she gave birth to me naturally without an epidural, so it was no small feat!) people were always so shocked by how big I was, and their responses added to the insecurity I already felt as an overweight child.

    The enemy didn’t stop there, however. His deceptive narratives continued to coil themselves around my young heart, trying to suffocate me. And naively, as a baby Christian, I accepted them to be true.

    Today, as I consider my story so far and the battle that has been waged regarding my worth, I’m forced to face the fact that I have allowed these parasitic lies to roam freely within me for far too long. Fortunately, things don’t have to stay that way, and by God’s help, they won’t.

    Recently, I’ve recognized just how much God has been helping me to be aware of my thoughts throughout the day. Before, my own self judgment over a number on the scale would have been in my mind front and center, keeping me from hearing the fainter yet equally harmful thoughts penetrating my mind. But now I hear those ideas clearly and am learning to take them captive so that they will not take captive of me. This whole process is showing me a whole host of thoughts from which I must repent and other areas of my life where I also need to be free.

    In addition to seeking to be mindful of my thoughts and any falsehood therein, I am also trying to establish a right relationship with food. Lately, I try to focus on health and hope that my children will learn to make that their motivation when it comes to eating and exercise too. It’s not to say that I’m giving up sweets, but I try to limit my intake and to better listen to what my body needs. These new habits, in turn, are teaching me more about walking with God and trusting that He will help me to be healthy if I surrender this area of my life to Him. He wants to help me. He wants to give me wholeness in every area of my life. So, I continue on, perhaps stumbling at times but learning along the way, because nothing can compare to true freedom and the abundant life made possible in Him, and those things will be mine when I find my worth in Him alone.

    I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.”

    Psalm 139:14 ESV

  • Like Abraham and Sarah

    Now the Lord said to Abram, “Go from your country and your kindred and your father’s house to the land that I will show you.””

    Genesis 12:1 ESV
    Photo taken by my sister in her new dwelling place looking at the ocean

    My younger sister moved overseas last week. She married a wonderful, godly man in early June, and he has felt lead to pursue a profession in medicine for quite some time, so they resigned from their jobs earlier this month, got rid of most of their personal belongings, and packed their bags to move to the foreign country where he will be studying this fall.

    Not long before their departure, I asked my sister if she would have ever imagined her life to turn out like this, knowing full well what her answer would be. No, she could have never imagined these things. Our conversation reminded me of a blogpost I wrote several years ago, where I reminisced over some thoughts I wrote down as a single woman pondering what lengths I would go to in order to be with the man I loved. The truth is, we are willing to go to extremes for the sake of love, and she is living proof of that. But even more importantly, their shared love for God and a desire to do His will has caused them to take bold leaps of faith and to follow Him into the unknown, and they trust that His love for them will sustain them there.

    I can’t help but think of Abraham and Sarah when I think of their situation. God told Abraham to leave his country, kindred, and father’s house and to go to the land where God would show him. Similarly, God has called my sister and her husband to leave their country, kindred, and father’s house, and although they knew where they would initially go, they must wait for God to show them the land where He will take them in the end—the place that they will call their home.

    This chapter of their story is just beginning to unfold, of course. We have yet to see the script that God has already written for them in this current season. But I can’t help but think that their lives might mimic that of Sarah and Abraham’s also in that God may give them new identities as He further shows them their purposes along this path.

    Back in the spring, I thought a lot about the story of the rich young ruler who asked Jesus what he must do to be saved. JJ applied for a position in Puerto Rico around that time, and we were considering the implications of such a move. Our situation felt like déjà vu since we had considered a move to the island a couple of years prior to this. The only difference was that there would be no withdrawing of JJ’s application this time around. We felt committed to moving to Puerto Rico this year if that was what God had in store for us, and considering the fact that I was in my third trimester and was excited about the possibility of such a move, I believed it really might be what God intended for us.

    As I considered the possibility and looked around at all of our possessions, knowing we would have to get rid of most of them, I kept thinking of the story of the rich young ruler like I did when we first considered moving to the island. This time, however, I saw the story in a new light.

    The story is as follows:

    18 And a ruler asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to inherit eternal life?” 19 And Jesus said to him, “Why do you call me good? No one is good except God alone. 20 You know the commandments: ‘Do not commit adultery, Do not murder, Do not steal, Do not bear false witness, Honor your father and mother.’” 21 And he said, “All these I have kept from my youth.” 22 When Jesus heard this, he said to him, “One thing you still lack. Sell all that you have and distribute to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” 23 But when he heard these things, he became very sad, for he was extremely rich. 24 Jesus, seeing that he had become sad, said, “How difficult it is for those who have wealth to enter the kingdom of God! 25 For it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.” 26 Those who heard it said, “Then who can be saved?” 27 But he said, “What is impossible with man is possible with God.””

    Luke 18:18-27 ESV

    I’ve understood for quite some time that Jesus was asking the rich younger ruler to sell everything he had and to follow Him because He did not want this young man to have any idols. None of us can truly follow Jesus with a divided heart.  But I realized something else as I thought of this story anew. Not only did Jesus want to rid this man of any idols, but He also wanted to rid him of a false sense of identity, ultimately offering this young man a new identity in Him.

    My sister and brother-in-law have essentially accepted the offer that Jesus gave to that rich young ruler centuries ago. It’s not that their salvation is dependent on it, nor is their identity in Christ, as they already established these things in the moment that they came to faith in Him. Nonetheless, God has a way of giving us clarity in who we are in Him when all the “clutter” is taken away.

    This couple has been stripped of their sense of identity at their former employments (and the financial security those jobs brought), their status as citizens, and any earthly possession that may have given them some sort of sense of self. But they have willingly done so to follow Him, and it is through that letting go that they will more deeply grasp ahold of who they are in Him and all that He has in store for them in this season of life. And quite frankly, I can’t wait to see what all that means for them in this journey.

    23 And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. 24 For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”

    Luke 9:23-24 ESV

  • Puzzle Pieces and Personal Plans

    Picture of my oldest doing a children’s puzzle

    A man’s heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps.”

    Proverbs 16:9

    Liam and I worked on a number of puzzles in the spring. He has been given several over the years that are age appropriate for him (3-5 years old), so I have especially enjoyed working on these simple puzzles with him. He has enjoyed them too, although I cannot say that they have necessarily been easy for him.

    In April, as we tried to put each puzzle together, I would often find him trying to pound two pieces together, using his tiny fist as a hammer. In his little mind, he had found two puzzle pieces that were meant to be together, so he would force them together, no matter the effort. Then, when I would point out to him that the pieces were not intended to fit together and tried to take them apart, he would become upset with me and try to keep the puzzle pieces out of my grasp. He had worked hard to put them together, so that is how they would stay!

    I became discreet in taking the puzzle pieces apart over time, and eventually we would create the image that the puzzle was intended to be. It just took lots of time and patience.

    Today, Liam doesn’t struggle as much with his puzzles. He seems to understand the color schemes more and how the pieces work together. He is also starting to grasp the idea of a bigger picture, and he has done these puzzles enough to know what that bigger picture should be. It doesn’t mean he has mastered piecing puzzles together entirely. They are still a bit of a challenge to him. Nonetheless, he is able to hold onto each puzzle piece a little more loosely as he seeks out the perfect fit for each piece.

    Although we don’t work on puzzles too much anymore due to time constraints, the image of Liam pounding puzzle pieces together has come to my mind over the last few months, because I realize with a sense of conviction that I am not much different than Liam was last spring when it comes to doing puzzles.

     I think I have been doing puzzles in my mind for most of my life. I hold different pieces in my hands at different times—puzzle pieces representing my desires, dreams, goals, expectations, etc. The problem is, the puzzle pieces strewn out in front of me, most commonly known as reality, don’t always fit together with the ones I grasp onto ever so tightly in my hands. And because of that, I am left with the desire to try to pound all of them together anyway in a desperate attempt to create what I believe to be the perfect picture of puzzle pieces for my life. But just like Liam has had to learn that there is a specific color scheme and pattern which each puzzle piece is meant to be part of, I sense God asking me to trust that all of my puzzle pieces are meant to be part of a specific color scheme and pattern as well. A God-ordained one. And just like Liam has learned that each properly placed puzzle piece will eventually form a perfect picture, I sense God inviting me to trust that He is intricately and intentionally piecing my puzzle pieces together to form a picture that is far more perfect than I could ever make it out to be—a picture that is even greater than my own story and that will far outlast my lifetime, all for His glory.

    As we enter this new year, I am very aware of all the new puzzle pieces I bring into it with me. I have new goals, new dreams, and things that I eagerly anticipate about this year and that I pray will come to pass. But I am also aware of my need to hold onto each puzzle piece loosely—to hold my hands open in worship to God with each piece surrendered to Him. Because in the long run, I can’t be certain of how each of my puzzle pieces will fit together or if I will even like where each one goes. But I can be certain of this—the end result will be worth it. The final picture will be splendid and glorious and more magnificent than I could ever fathom. And in the end, I’ll be glad that I surrendered each puzzle piece to God and that He chose me to be a part of this beautifully exquisite puzzle in the making.

  • It’s Not Too Late

    Photo from Pexels.com of raindrops on glass

    I put on a cartoon for Liam about Lazarus on Easter Sunday before church. Of course, I would have preferred for him to watch one about Jesus rising from the dead, but we didn’t have access to an episode like that (or so I thought), so a show about Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead would have to do.

    My intention was to distract Liam enough to catch up on my Bible reading that morning, but I got slightly caught up in the show and instead found myself journaling about something the “narrator” stated to the main characters of the animation. He simply told them, as they traveled back into Bible times, that they were about to meet two women that learned that God’s timing is always perfect.

    The scene and statement were so simple. Just a moment on screen to transition the characters to Bible times and nothing too impactful. Except it was. To me. It penetrated my soul that day.

    Most of my life has been one lesson after another of learning to trust in God’s timing, and this year has been an especially intense season of learning that. God seems to be driven to rid me of the notion that I’ve done all the “important” things too late in life, and I’m slowly grasping onto that truth, but it’s a lesson in progress with which I still must come to grips and accept.

    As I sat at the kitchen table that morning, touched by the simple scene on screen, I sat down and journaled that what we often think of as “too late” is often times the perfect backdrop for God to display His glory in ways that surpass our imaginations, ways we never would have seen had God done things according to our own timing.

    This was certainly true for Mary and Martha, the two women introduced in the cartoon that day. They sent for Jesus while Lazarus was still alive so that He would come and heal their brother. But He didn’t come.  Not right away, at least. Then the unthinkable happened. Lazarus died, and he was placed in a tomb and mourned over for several days. But even so, Jesus was nowhere to be seen. It wasn’t until Lazarus’ corpse had been decaying in a tomb for four days that Jesus finally showed up, much too late according to Mary and Martha’s estimation.

    You can hear the disappointment dripping off their words as they see Jesus for the first time since their brother’s passing.

    “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died…”1 both sisters respond to Him separately upon seeing Him again, their hopelessness palpable.

    They knew full well that Jesus could have kept this tragedy from happening, and yet He didn’t. Nonetheless, Jesus stated earlier that this sickness would not end in death, and ultimately it did not, because Jesus raised Lazarus to life moments later, and many Jews present because of Lazarus’ death believed in Jesus as a result.

    Mary and Martha would soon realize that Jesus was not too late. He had been intentional in His timing so as to not only bring Lazarus back to life but to also bring to life many Jews who had been spiritually dead. And through it all, Mary and Martha better understood who Jesus was. They saw Him mourn with them. They saw His compassion. And they saw just how powerful He was to be able to command death. They learned so many things about Jesus that they never would have known had His timing not been what it was. And although they suffered deeply for a few days because they could not see what Jesus was up to, I can’t help but think that they must have ultimately been grateful for what His timing was in retrospect.

    Their “too late” certainly paved the way for Jesus to display His glory in ways they could have never imagined. This moment was perhaps the highlight of their life, all made possible because of the timing of this miracle, the timing that must have seemed so off to these women just a few days prior.

    This story has been meaningful to me for quite some time now, but I grow to appreciate it all the more when I consider my own struggles with timing. And I continue to learn from it as times goes by.

    Recently I have been considering Martha’s response more in light of listening to this passage anew at my younger sister’s church when I got a chance to visit her several weekends ago.

    After Martha’s initial response to Jesus, He told her that her brother would rise again.2 But instead of taking His words at face value, “Martha said to him, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection on the last day” (John 11:24 ESV).

    She could not understand what Jesus intended to do. Nonetheless, “Jesus said to her, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live” (John 11:25 ESV).

    When asked if Martha believed this, she confessed that she did, but it becomes clear a few verses later that she still did not understand when she expressed concern over the stench that would fill the air after Jesus commanded the stone sealing Lazarus’ tomb to be rolled away.

    But the stone was rolled away regardless, and Jesus called Lazarus out of the tomb! He was brought back to life that day, and Martha finally understood. Her faith reached new heights.

    I find Martha to be so relatable among believers. God may promise us something that He intends to fulfill this side of heaven, but instead of believing Him for it and waiting on His timing, we instead choose to believe that it must be a promise to be fulfilled on the last day due to our own fear or simple lack of faith. And while certain promises very well be that way, perhaps there are certain promises that God would want us to hold onto for today, for this earthly life.

    As Jesus stated to Martha, He is the resurrection and the life. Perhaps the hopes and dreams that we’ve buried in our own graves and have been mourning for some time are meant to be resurrected by Jesus today. Because, although our circumstances may tell us that it is too late, it is certainly not too late for God. Perhaps this present timing is the very thing He is using as the perfect backdrop to display His glory in ways that surpass our imaginations, ways we never would have seen had God done things according to our own timing. May He help us to believe Him for whatever He would put on our hearts to believe Him for today, and may our faith reach new heights as a result.

    1 John 11:21 and John 11:32b  ESV
    2 John 11:23 ESV

  • Going Deeper

    Photo by Oliver Sju00f6stru00f6m on Pexels.com of the ocean and shoreline from a bird’s eye view

    My family and I recently went out of town. JJ’s nephew graduated from high school several weeks ago, so we flew to a beautiful area in the northeast to celebrate with him and to visit with family in their neck of the woods.

    The week away was a much-needed break. It was good to get away from the constant reminders of the tragedy that took place here in May, which had engulfed me in deep sorrow ever since that day. My family and I also welcomed the chance to escape the scorching, Texas heat! I packed a sweatshirt for our trip and actually wore it a few times!

    While away, we reveled in the cooler weather as we enjoyed good conversations, nature, some sight-seeing, and my sister-in-law’s delicious home-cooked meals. The week was simply glorious!

    With an extra day on our trip due to a flight cancelation, my family and I took advantage of taking a quick dip in the neighborhood pool our last day, where we were surrounded by mountains on one side and stately pine trees extending high into clear blue skies speckled by fluffy, white clouds. It was the perfect way to bring our trip to a close.

    While there, I intently watched two mothers as they tried to reason with their young children to go deeper into the pool with them. It was the same problem I had been having with my own son as of late. They were at an age where they were somewhat afraid of the water, wanting to either cling to the ledge of the pool for dear life or sit staunchly on the swimming pool steps, refusing to further enter in. Seeing these children act this way as a spectator was somewhat comical. It’s as if they forgot who they were with—that they had their mothers by their sides who would not leave them. Or perhaps they hadn’t forgotten but didn’t fully comprehend who these women were. Maybe they failed to understand that their mothers would do anything to save them, even sacrificing their own lives.

    Fortunately, one of the young children finally mustered up enough courage to acquiesce to his mother’s pleas, and soon he was splashing about, laughing with glee as he glided around on a pool noodle that his mom was securely holding onto. He was finally enjoying the fun that she had intended for him all along.

    As I watched this happy moment, I wondered how often we, as believers, acted like those children in our own relationship with God. When God wanted to take us deeper into some aspect of our lives, did we instead insist on staying on the sidelines, staunchly sitting on our own swimming pool steps rather than following God’s leading into something more profound and purposeful? When presented with a situation that threatened to inundate us, did we forget who was by our side and that He would never leave us? Or did we fail to comprehend who God was and that He would do anything to save us? Because, in fact, Jesus already did. He sacrificed His very own life.

    In all honesty, it’s hard for me to write these words, because I know how much I struggle to go deeper myself. My natural inclination is to want to give in to worry and fear, opting to “play it safe” on the sidelines rather than fully immersing myself in something more meaningful. But maybe that is the precise reason why I needed to write this—because I need to forever remember those kids at the pool and the insights gained that day. And I need to challenge myself in this respect and pray to God that I will be different—that I won’t miss out on the opportunities and invitations God gives me to go deeper with Him in any way.

    Something I keep thinking about as I continue to mull over that moment at the pool is how much those children (and my own) could benefit from going deeper into the water with their moms. They might eventually learn how to swim if they entered a little further, where they had room to splash their arms about and kick their feet as their mothers upheld them and taught them some basic moves. These simple lessons, in turn, could eventually lead to more advanced lessons which would equip these little ones with the ability to swim over time.

    The thing is, you can’t learn to swim if you are fiercely clinging to the ledge or stubbornly sitting on the side. You have to go deeper. Your trust in the one who is upholding you must be greater than your fears. And only there will your fears fade away as you revel in the beauty of the moment. Only there can you learn new things that will open the door to many new adventures to come.

    Similarly, you can’t learn how to have deeper faith, character, and trust in God, nor any other skill with which God would equip you, if you only wade in the water when God is calling you to go deeper.  

    The truth is, He wants to take each of us to places where our feet will no longer touch the bottom, where we cannot sit on the side. But we know that we can trust the One who is leading us because He will uphold us.

    Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

    Isaiah 41:10

    He will help us and teach us what He wants us to know. And we can revel in the beauty of the moment, despite our fears, because we know that God is forever with us.

    When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
        and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you.”

    Isaiah 43:2a

    He is with us and will equip us for greater things—many new adventures to come.

  • Becoming Real

    Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com of a bunny in a field.
    “It doesn’t happen all at once,’ said the Skin Horse. ‘You become. It takes a long time. That’s why it doesn’t happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don’t matter at all, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly, except to people who don’t understand.’”1

    ***

    Have you ever read the story of The Velveteen Rabbit? It’s the classic children’s story about a stuffed, toy bunny that dreams of becoming real. The story has its ups and downs as the bunny believes he is real at one point but then realizes he is not. In the end, however, the little rabbit is finally granted his wish.

    After reading this tale recently, I came to realize that the ending wasn’t quite what I remembered it to be. I knew that the stuffed bunny willingly suffered alongside his owner while the little boy was sick in bed with scarlet fever. I also remembered that the bunny and some other toys were to be burned after the boy recovered from his illness so that they would not spread germs to anyone.  And it was in the yard, while he waited this impending doom, that he met the magic nursery fairy who ultimately brought him to life.

    What I didn’t recall was that the fairy made the rabbit’s wish come true because she took care of old, worn down, or broken toys that were loved.

    I somehow failed to see the connection between the boy’s love and the rabbit’s realness when I first read this story. Instead, I implicitly understood something that I still believe to hold true—that the bunny was brought to life because of the way he suffered alongside the child. The truth is, the sacrifice this stuffed animal made for the boy ultimately brought him to the end of his toy life, which, in a roundabout way, opened the door for him to become real.

    As a side note, this secular story reminds me of the following spiritual truths:

    Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends.”

    John 15:13 (ESV)

    Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.”

    Matthew 10:39 (ESV)

    I love how God can use even the simplest of things to point us back to Him.

    I read this children’s tale to Liam nearly every night throughout the first few weeks of March. There was something about this story that felt so cathartic to me in light of my own suffering—something that I couldn’t quite put my finger on but had me coming back every night, seeking to understand. The story resonated with me deeply, and I felt like God was somehow using this simple children’s tale and my ability to relate to this imaginary bunny to bring healing to my heart, because I saw how God was using my own suffering to make me real too.

    My own pain was causing me to be more authentic with God and others rather than simply putting on a front. It was making me wrestle with hard questions and seek out God for true answers, and I know suffering has done this and more for others too.

    Suffering truly has a way of scrubbing off the superficial surfaces of our lives to reveal what is most raw and real about ourselves, and although we may not always like what is exposed beyond the surface, God’s best work is done there, within the very depths of our souls. It is there where He is able to fortify our character and create a greater sense of compassion within us. It is there where He teaches us humility and gives us a greater capability of relating to others. And it is there where new seedlings of purpose are planted that can bloom into beautiful redemptive stories over time, because our pain, when surrendered to God, is always redeemed.

    I don’t like to suffer, but I am learning to love the results it produces in me and to trust the process, and I’m thankful that God is preparing me to comfort others who suffer just as He has comforted me in my own suffering. It is something I am finding to be of extreme value of late.

    There will never be a shortage of suffering in the world, but there will never be a limit as to how God can use our pain when submitted to Him. It becomes the fertile soil where spiritual growth takes place. And although I may not see this in the actual moment of hardship and pain, I truly believe that suffering can become the gateway God uses to make real what our best dreams could never have imagined, even as He is in the process of making us more real through it all—more like His Son Jesus.

    1 Williams, Margery (1922). The Velveteen Rabbit or How Toys Become Real. A Celebration of Women Writers. https://digital.library.upenn.edu/women/williams/rabbit/rabbit.html