Just Frances T 
Another year in the books for me. Last week ushered in my 36th birthday and birthdays lend themselves to reflection, so here I am, reflecting. The past year has seen many positive changes for me: exercising and losing weight, going on a much-needed retreat, heeding God’s call and stepping down from my ministry role to focus on being a mom, moving to a closer church & diving right in to a group in spite of my fears, rediscovering my love for reading. With most of those decisions, I picked a path and moved in that direction.
The problem I’m seeing now with some of those positive changes is drifting. What I achieved is not where I’ve stayed. I’ve definitely drifted in my efforts to be healthier. A pound here, a pound there. Two steps forward, one step back. It starts to add up and if I just continue to drift, I’ll end up right back where I was [or worse].
BUT I DON’T WANT TO!
I’ve noticed that our life’s journey is more like being on a boat in the open water than a path. The course is not clearly marked. There’s a million different directions you can go in at any given time. And we drift. The currents actually move us from our chosen course and we have to actively fight to get where we’re headed. Pausing in our efforts, even for a short while, leave us surprisingly far from where we were.
Thankfully, drifting far isn’t a must. A boat’s answer is to drop anchor, and there are anchors we can choose to minimize drifting:
- Honesty – Correcting a drift starts with an honest assessment of where we are. I have to know where I am in order to figure out where I need to go. For my weight, I have to get back on the scale. But that’s just me. You have to figure out what it looks like for whatever area you feel like you’ve drifted. It’s usually far worse than we’ve rationalized, so it takes brutal honesty. Once we come to terms with where we are, we can move forward.
- Diligence – I chose diligence rather than discipline, since it sounds like a virtue instead of a punishment. Same idea. It seems overly simple, but when we drift, we need to go back to what works. Writing down what I eat every day? Tedious, but it works. Doing a SOAP journal daily to connect with Jesus? Difficult, but it works. Making time to spend with loved ones? A hassle, but it works. The things that originally moved us in the direction we needed to go still have power. When we start to drift, we’ve often quit the things that were most helpful. That’s like throwing out your map and saying, “I have no idea how to get there.” Follow the course you’ve already charted and you’ll get there one step at a time.
- Community – I’ve seen the importance of this anchor in the last year more than ever. Having the right people around me helps me to be honest when they ask the tough questions I’m afraid to ask myself. It also helps me to be diligent by exposing me to new tools and others’ experiences. They encourage and believe in me when I don’t. Life without community is like sailing without a crew. I can do a lot on my own, but the journey is tedious and overly difficult. Why would I do that to myself?
- Grace – The last and most important anchor is grace. Drifts are a fact of life. Without grace, I would have to live in fear that God would stop loving me every time I messed up. Grace creates a safe place for me to be honest. Grace encourages me to be diligent because Jesus tells me, like the woman caught in adultery, “…Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” Grace empowers me to press on because it means the Holy Spirit is living in me, giving me what I need daily. Grace creates a community that fosters change. Of all the other anchors, I need this one the most because it reminds me that no matter where I’ve been, no matter how far off I’ve strayed today, I don’t have to stay there. The Gospel tells me that God specializes in making things new and glorious, even with the rawest of materials,
includingespecially us.
I’m looking forward to year 37. With the anchors of honesty, diligence, community, and grace, I believe that I will be more of the person Jesus is calling me to be every day. I pray that you’ll join me in this so that we’d be able to celebrate together how far we’ve come with Jesus’s power and for his glory.
I got this bright idea when I woke up on Tuesday morning that it was time to potty train Thomas. I’ve been reading up and chatting with other parents for several months, so it’s not like I didn’t know the steps. Plus, Thomas is showing several signs of being ready. Why not just pull the trigger on a random Tuesday?
Well, by day two, I was ready to pull the trigger all right, on myself. What was I thinking?!? I knew the steps, but somehow all the advice about being patient and persevering got lost in translation. What I should have read between the lines was: it’s hard. Way harder than you think. Think adjusting-to-having-a-newborn-all-over-again hard, where you will be mentally exhausted and unsure of yourself, only this time you’ve got a toddler questioning you and pushing back.
Day 2 started out worse than day 1. Not even halfway through the day and I was ready to quit. Thomas was downright refusing to sit on his potty chair and I had no idea what to do next. As I tentatively let my pantsless son sit in my lap [a risky move, for sure], I wondered whether I should put a diaper back on him and wait a few months to try again.
“God, show me what I should do.”
It was a simple prayer of utter surrender. I honestly had no idea what the right thing to do would be and I would do whatever God told me to do. I just needed to know what it was he wanted.
As soon as the prayer formed in my brain, I remembered a Bible verse, “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” I didn’t know what to do; all I had to do was ask. So I asked again, “God, show me.”
Soon after my son sat on his potty without prompting and went potty. We cheered. I gave him candy. Then he did it again and again. It was like something clicked in his brain after I prayed and he knew what to do, as did I.
After the obligatory celebration following Thomas’s accomplishment, I went back to look up the verse that had somehow worked its way into my brain: James 1:5 [thank God for Google, since I only had the vaguest idea where it was]. I reread the whole chapter and I realized three things
- Testing produces perseverance. “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters,whenever you face trials of many kinds,because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance.Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (James 1:2-4). Even this mundane moment helping my son with potty training is a trial that will produce perseverance and consequently spiritual maturity. Trials aren’t often as dramatic as being thrown into a lion’s den for our faith. It’s usually the everyday challenges and conflicts that test us. We’re called to be thankful for trials of all kinds because they are moments rich with opportunity to learn and grow. What I learned in the moment was…
- When we don’t know, ask. “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God…and it will be given to you” (James 1:5). I didn’t know what I should do. Like I said, potty training is like learning to be a parent all over again. All of the systems I had in place are becoming outdated. I need help. Thankfully, I have immediate help in moments where I’m over my head. All I have to do is ask. In my situation, things may have gone the other way, but I know God still would have given me the wisdom for which I asked, even if it was to wait. Most importantly, I learned that such help comes from…
- God, “who gives generously to all without finding fault” (James 1:5). Shame keeps me away from God when I need him most because I forget who he is. I approach him like Oliver Twist, begging for just a bit more; sure my request will be met with incredulity and outrage: “What?!? You don’t have it all together yet?” Nothing could be further from the truth. He’s not going to blame me for wanting wisdom; that’s what he wants for me, too. God is generous. He wants us to know him and to be able to live in a way that glorifies him, that’s why he sent Jesus. I can approach him without fear because Jesus paved the way back with his death and resurrection. Grace doesn’t expire when I need it most and God’s character doesn’t change when I’m lost.
I walked away from this experience still feeling overwhelmed with potty training, but with the knowledge that I don’t have to flail around alone. God gives us the wisdom we need generously and without fault. May we have the faith to ask for wisdom in the moment and the courage to follow.
While Matt and I were on a date a couple weeks back [yay Starbucks cards], I noticed a middle-aged couple sitting on the patio hunched over their phones. I could see that they were both reading a lengthy text and discussing it with hushed voices and furtive glances. Their demeanor made me wonder whether they were looking at legal paperwork, toying with the idea of divorce. I felt a tiny pang of sadness for them as we walked past.
Thirty minutes later, I realized how wrong I was when they got super intimate, right there on the patio at Starbucks for anyone to see. So intimate, in fact, I felt guilty watching them with a smile, but couldn’t look away. Matt and I exchanged glances, as if to say “Are you seeing this?”
This couple was holding hands, heads bowed, earnestly praying together.
The husband’s lips moved without hesitation or self-consciousness. I couldn’t hear their prayers, but it was a clearly a very beautiful, private moment. Instead of seeing a crumbling marriage, I saw one being fortified by Jesus’s power.
Mindy Kaling said in her book Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?, “C’mon married people. I don’t want to hear about the endless struggles to keep sex exciting, or the work it takes to plan a date night. I want to hear that you guys watch every episode of The Bachlorette together in secret shame…I want to see you guys high-five each other like teammates…I want to hear about it because I know it’s possible, and because I want it for myself…Please be psyched, and convey that psychedness to us.”
I love to joke about marriage, saying things like “I got married so that I could avoid having sex with only one person for the rest of my life,” but I love being married. My husband’s name means “Gift of God” in Hebrew and it fits him; he is God’s gift to me. I’m psyched about my husband and the prospect of spending the rest of our lives together. I’m psyched that he texts me and asks “How can I bless you today?” and that he sneaks a single miniature candy onto my planner every day. I‘m psyched about holding hands on walks together, weekly dates, and laughing so hard I can’t breathe, let alone speak, over random internet stuff with him.
There’s lots of fun stuff about being married, but there’s so much more to it than that. Being married to Matt is making me a better person. Matt is my +1, and also my “one another”. “One another” commands pepper the New Testament, teaching Christians how they ought to live in community with one another: love one another as Jesus loved us (John 13:34); show honor to one another (Romans 12:10), build up one another (Romans 14:19); serve one another (Galatians 5:13); bear one another’s burdens (Galatians 6:2); be kind to one another (Ephesians 4:32); submit to one another (Ephesians 5:21); bear with and forgive one another (Colossians 3:13); pray for one another (James 5:16).
These are not easy. In fact, some of them are miserable at times [hello, submission and forgiveness should be 4 letter words, especially when I’m positive I’m right], but that doesn’t change the fact that they pave the way for a stronger marriage. It also doesn’t change the fact that this is exactly how the Lord intended for life together to look.
Each of the “one another” commands give me a glimpse of the incredible plan God has for community whether it’s a marriage, a church, or his kingdom. Even when I don’t understand it [or, let’s be honest, agree], it’s an act of faith to trust that God knows what he’s talking about and follow. Learning to live this way gives me a clearer picture of Jesus and moves me closer to behaving like him in any circumstance. The two-becoming-one process of marriage is a great mystery, but [most importantly] it is an illustration of Christ and the church (Ephesians 5:32).
I read a blog post recently that was a scathing indictment of Biblical marriage, implying its ideas are completely archaic. I have to disagree. Perhaps from the outside it doesn’t look like much, like a hobbit’s humble home [totally a simile for my husband]. It’s only when you step inside that you realize that the humble exteriors mask the depth and beauty within.
I needed to see that couple at Starbucks. I needed to be reminded of the power of putting Jesus at the center of your marriage and doing things that way God commands. I know that, but it’s nice to know that other people know it, too, and to see it incarnated in a random café patio. I also needed to say something about it because maybe you need to be reminded of it, too. God’s way is ultimately the best way for us to live our lives.
My prayer is that Matt and I would be like that couple: unselfconscious in our love for Jesus and one another. I pray that our joy in marriage would multiply so that we might point others to the joy of following the Lord in every area.
A few years back, I had a routine meeting with a friend for one of my seminary classes. Though we were on good terms, it hadn’t always been that way. We’d fought and had an ugly falling out several months prior. Things smoothed out over time, yet I went into the meeting with the sense that I needed to apologize and take responsibility for my part. I knew it was the right thing to do, still I wondered, What if bringing up old stuff just brings it all back? What if it just reminds the other person that he should still be mad?
As I read Genesis earlier this year, I was caught up in the story more than usual. In one particular scene, Jacob is finally going to cross paths with his twin brother, Esau, for the first time in years. Before a long sojourn, Jacob had tricked and stolen from his brother one too many times and Esau was bent on revenge. Jacob legitimately feared for his life as their meeting drew near. In an effort to butter his twin up, Jacob sent ahead many flocks as a lavish gift.
When Esau was in sight, there’s a moment where you don’t know what is going to happen. Esau brought 400 men along with him. He knew it was his brother approaching. Did he see this as his chance to finally get revenge on the treacherous Jacob? Would there be a slaughter? My breath caught in my throat, as surely Jacob’s did when he finally encountered his brother.
Their eyes locked. Jacob humbly bowed before Esau. Esau had a very different response: “Then Esau ran to meet him and embraced him, threw his arms around his neck, and kissed him. And they both wept” (Genesis 33:4).
Jacob declared, “And what a relief to see your friendly smile. It is like seeing the face of God!” (v. 10)
One could argue that Jacob was once again laying it on thick to save his skin, but I think he honestly recognized the sacredness of the situation. Jacob prayed for God to deliver him from his brother’s wrath and sure enough it was completely gone. Truth be told, Jacob didn’t deserve forgiveness. He really was awful to Esau. But Esau didn’t hold it against him. Such forgiveness could only be God’s hand at work.
To see such grace was to see the Lord.
I waited until the end of the meeting to bring up my own apology. I can’t remember what I said, though I know I stumbled over my words. [One would think that I’d be quite good at apologies with as much time as my foot spends in my mouth. They never do get easier.] I tried to stop myself from crying, but it didn’t work. My tears flowed freely down my cheeks, betraying my sorrow and fear. Like Jacob, I knew I didn’t deserve forgiveness. Though time had passed, it didn’t change the fact that I had been awful. I said things I couldn’t take back. I braced myself for his response, afraid to even lift my gaze.
What followed were words of forgiveness, words of redemption, “It’s okay. All of that is gone.”
David said in Psalm 32,
Oh, what joy for those
whose disobedience is forgiven,
whose sin is put out of sight!
Yes, what joy for those
whose record the Lord has cleared of guilt,
whose lives are lived in complete honesty!
I left that office feeling lighter. I was no longer chained to my past and could actually move forward. Admitting my wrong and receiving grace was seeing the face of God all over again. When we freely give and receive forgiveness to one another, we are echoing the message the Lord sent in his son, Jesus. “You messed up, but I forgive you and want you to have life where there was once only death. Your sin matters, but my relationship with you matters more.”
Oh what joy, indeed.
One of the first things people inevitably noticed about my son, Thomas, is his ears. Not his actual ears, but the ears connected to his Mickey Mouse baseball cap he received as a souvenir from a friend’s trip to Disney World. At first he hated his hat and took it off every time we put it on his head. Somewhere along the way, it became part of his getting ready to leave the house routine. If we told him, “Put on your shoes,” he’d also grab a jacket and his Mickey hat unprompted. Now, he wears it all the time. When we’re in a store, strangers will ask him, “Who’s on your hat?” Other little kids will see the hat and gasp, stare with wide-eyed awe, or even chirp, “Mickey” and point him out. It’s a magical hat that seems to draw people to Thomas.
After chatting with a man about the ears in Smart and Final a few weeks back, Matt said, “You have to write about the hat.” Since we have so many interactions with people, it made sense, but I wasn’t sure what I’d write. I started paying attention as I watched him interact and as I interacted with scripture.
Thomas and his Mickey hat reflects the calling Paul gave Christians in Colossians 3. We’re commanded to take off the things of this world and to instead put on characteristics befitting a Christ-follower. The wording is just like taking off and putting on clothes. The internal working of the Holy Spirit should be evident as evident as the clothes we wear. This isn’t a simultaneous process. Just as Thomas didn’t like wearing the hat at first, it takes us a while to get used to being different kinds of people. Our natural habits nudge us towards evil desires or things that once ruled our lives. Learning and living a new way takes time. The beauty is that over time, those old things don’t fit any more. We outgrow our worn out, dirty clothes and exchange them for radiant ones. Our new natural habits become the things Jesus calls us to do as the Holy Spirit empowers us and changes us.
The other thing I realized is that it’s common to see Mickey ears all over Disneyland. They sell them there and it’s socially acceptable (encouraged, even) to wear them. It’s only because Thomas wears them to the grocery store, the park, and every other place we go that people notice. He doesn’t even care whether they match the rest of his outfit; they always go with him. It’s easy to be a Christian at church or at home, but much more complicated when we are other places. Thomas’ ears remind me that Jesus intends for us to stick out in the world. We’re supposed to be evidently Christians everywhere we go. When we’re radiating Christ, it’s actually a good thing. Just like Thomas’ ears brighten people’s days, so does the mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience evident in a Christ follower.
My prayer is that I’d grow in courage to be conspicuous. I also pray that Thomas would continue to feel comfortable sticking out, but as he matures, may it be for God’s glory. Amen.
A few weeks back, we went away for a few days and came back to termites. Thankfully, you don’t actually see the termites unless you get in their space, but every morning and evening the tiny tell-tale pellets litter the bathroom floor below the fan. To put it mildly, it’s gross. The grainy feeling under my feet makes my skin crawl, so we sweep a couple times a day. I found out that if I wear socks, I can’t feel the termite junk anymore. That was actually a huge relief, since it was some kind of solution. Of course, when I say it out loud [er…type it really hard, so it’s kind of like saying it out loud], I realize how ridiculous it is to simply wear socks, sweep, and pretend the problem doesn’t exist. It kind of needs an actual solution.
This situation brings up a bigger issue that I’m seeing in my life. Since I’ve lost weight, it’s been a challenge to keep going. I have those last nagging pounds to lose, but it’s not happening. I’ve also noticed some of my bad habits come back. I’ve deluded myself into thinking that as long as I still look cute in my new clothes, there isn’t a problem.
Looking good is infinitely easier than being good.
This problem and corresponding “solution” isn’t new. Adam and Eve tried to hide their sin from the Lord by actually hiding. “If he doesn’t see it, it doesn’t exist!” [not an actual Bible quote]. I do this same thing when I stop talking to God about what’s really going on and instead cover up the messy parts that I’d prefer weren’t there. It’s a ridiculous response, considering that God is neither impressed with nor fooled by the surface.
If I focus on looking good, being good is optional and that’s not good. If I focus on being good, looking good is an outgrowth…maybe…probably. The point is, when I shift my focus to being healthy, not looking healthy, I’ll actually be the kind of person I want to be. I’ll actually be healthy, not just look the part.
This is the case in every area of my life. I don’t just want to look like I have the fruit of the Spirit, I actually want to be a loving, joyful, peaceful, patient, kind, faithful, gentle, self-controlled, and GOOD person. I don’t want to look like I have money, I actually want to live within my means. I don’t want to look like I have friends, I actually want loving, close relationships. And all of that stuff is cultivated primarily in the dark, hidden places where no one sees, just like the termites in the attic.
I might be able to fake health for a while, but what’s inside is eventually revealed:
Remember, the sins of some people are obvious, leading them to certain judgment. But there are others whose sins will not be revealed until later. In the same way, the good deeds of some people are obvious. And the good deeds done in secret will someday come to light. 1 Timothy 5:24,25
When the time comes, I want good things to come to light about who I am. Consequently, in the meantime, I’m focusing more on the extremely unsexy but necessary nuts and bolts of being healthy by continuing to avail myself to God’s work in me. I will never be “good” enough on my own; however, as the Holy Spirit works in those deep, dark parts in me, I will be more than good, I’ll be perfected. And that’s good enough for me.
Good day, gentle reader.
As I mentioned in part 1, I couldn’t avoid talking about prayers that have gone unanswered. The Lord is not a genie who grants our every wish if we just say the right words or writes everything down, so there are bound to be prayers that seem to go unheard. As we’ve mentioned to several of our friends and family members, Matt and I have been praying for open doors to move out of the area. Living in the San Francisco Bay Area is simply too expensive for us. If we ever want to buy a house (especially if we want a yard), it’s not going to be here. Honestly, that’s just as true for renting a house. So, as we look ahead to the future, we’ve been praying for job opportunities and nothing has materialized. It’s been frustrating and discouraging.
In the meantime, I’ve continued to pray for provision. Money has been very tight since I felt called to stay home with Thomas. My continual prayer is for money to stretch, but it hasn’t. As I told a friend, “It’s like we’re hemorrhaging money.” We’ve had several unexpected bills, including one very big hassle last week.
As I was driving home from a meeting last Wednesday, I heard the telltale thump and felt the jerky slowness that can only come from a flat tire. I pulled off the road and parked on a side street, my heart racing. One look at my tire told me there was no way it was going to be a simple fix. It was completely shredded—a blowout. However, that was only the beginning.
I looked in my trunk and surveyed my emergency supplies. When I tried to take my jack out, I quickly realized I had no idea what I was doing in this car. I called Matt to see if he could come and help me, hoping someone could watch our son, since the only carseat we own was sitting behind me. No dice. No one else was home. Thankfully, I have emergency roadside assistance, so I called them. They said it would take an hour for help to arrive.
I sat in my car, waiting. I tried to pray, honestly feeling like that moment seems like the perfect time to pray, but nothing came to mind. I was just in too much shock, feeling vulnerable, and just wanting to be back on my way home. Perhaps 30 minutes into my wait, an old, white pickup truck pulled into the spot in front of me. I watched the driver expertly parallel park and as he stopped, I noticed his license plate frame. I could only see the top around the tall bumper, but the first word was enough… Read More
I had the pleasure of starting a brand-new SOAP journal a couple weeks back. My nerdy side loves office supplies in general, but especially loves the fresh pages of a new journal. All of my SOAP journals have pages to record prayer requests along with the date and the date answered. So far, those pages have remained blank in each of my journals. I just never got into the habit of writing stuff down. Partially because I know what I’m praying for and partially because I think there’s been an underlying fear, “What if the answered column remains blank? I don’t want a catalog of all the times God didn’t answer.”
It seems the theme of my life lately is Philippians 4:6 “Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done”, so those blank pages called to me and I started writing stuff down. I only jot down a word or two, mostly as a reminder that something was important enough to talk to Jesus about.
6/9/15: “Rain” As a Californian, I feel like I’m obligated to make this my prayer request until the drought is over, so it was one of the first prayers I wrote down. I checked the weather report the day before; it was supposed to be hot this week. Within a couple hours after writing my prayer, the clouds started to gather. When I watched the news that night, they said we could expect thunderstorms overnight and in the morning. Are you kidding me, God? I meant we needed rain in general, not necessarily today. Rain it did overnight and again in the afternoon. I was in awe, feeling like Elijah staring at fire raining down from heaven to light wet logs on fire (1 Kings 18). There are undoubtedly a million meteorological reasons we had rain out of the blue, but with certainty I knew I prayed for rain and God showed up.
Another prayer I wrote was “money for groceries,” which was far more specific. Basically, I wanted enough money for groceries to make it through the week before Matt got paid again. I was disappointed when a check didn’t magically appear in the mail that day, but I also felt like God wasn’t done yet. It was as if he whispered, “Wait.” The next day, as I was looking in the pantry, I randomly grabbed a fruit pouch and asked Thomas if he wanted one. Those pouches have been in the pantry for quite some time, since Thomas would literally grunt and turn his head as if I were offering him poison when presented with one. He took the pouch and ate half of it right away. Later that night, he finished the pouch and ate a second one the next day. Again, I’m sure one could find an explanation [like he just wasn’t tired of them anymore], but I knew it was an answer to prayer. No money magically appeared, but what we had stretched more than it should have and we made it through the week on the little money we had.
Honestly, both of these experiences left me speechless. I mean, I know cognitively that Jesus answers prayers, but it still surprised me to see how obvious it was. The simple act of writing things down gave me eyes to see the way God shows up, even when it doesn’t look as I expect it to look (as with money for groceries). Further, the simple act of recording the ways my prayers were answered gives a catalog of how faithful God is, not a log of disappointments as I feared.
But there are prayers—important prayers—that still have a blank spot where I would write an answer, had they been answered. What about those prayers? They’re too important to squeeze into this post, so stay tuned for part 2 in my prayer experiment.
In the meantime, I hope you’ll join me in jotting down your prayers, so that God may give you eyes to see his faithfulness.
I’ve fallen in love with the library again. I’m sure this is, in part, due the beautiful, well-stocked library in my town. It’s also due to a lifetime’s worth of materials available for free! My last visit was particularly bountiful with good stuff. As I was walking through the memoirs section (good ol’ 921), I noticed a book called Does This Church Make Me Look Fat? Of course I did a double take and snatched it off the shelf. It wasn’t on my list, but it sounded interesting and the price was right, so it came home with me.
It was a fun and funny book. I could relate to her marriage with a wonderful, but very different from me, man. Mostly, I was encouraged by her faith journey. I didn’t agree with all the conclusions she came to, but the stories of her journey were a shot of much-needed hope. One chapter mentioned buying a gratitude ring that she would touch and thank God for various things. Making gratitude lists is nothing new, Oprah encouraged it and Ann Voscamp’s One Thousand Gifts has made its way to almost every Christian’s library (including mine), but something about having a piece of jewelry that would remind me to give thanks throughout my day seemed helpful for my faith challenges of late.
I vaguely remembered having a silver band inscribed with the word “faith” in my jewelry box. When I went to investigate, sure enough, there it was, but not as I remembered. The ring was clearly worn. The plating on the underside had rubbed away to reveal the reddish mystery metal underneath. The black paint that once boldly outlined the word “FAITH” had all but chipped off, leaving only embossed letters. At first I thought, “This will never do,” but a far more sensible voice chimed in. “It’s free and immediate. Start by being thankful for that.” Seeing as how I didn’t have any other options with those two qualities, I decided to wear it anyways. Besides, it seems altogether appropriate for my faith ring to look like it’s taken a beating; indeed, my own faith has of late.
Now, I’m wearing a ring that says “faith”, intended to remind me to thank God instead of worrying (just like the verse I quoted in my last post says). My weathered ring reminds me real gratitude isn’t contingent on things looking perfect or even as I’d imagined. Gratitude comes from the unshakable belief that there is something to be thankful for right now, having the discipline to look for it, and thanking God for it.
Here is my list for today:
- I’m thankful for soul-stirring songs I loudly sing along with in the cool night air on my ride home.
- I’m thankful for hot, poignant tears that slide out of my eyes over long dormant hurts [there’s hope for healing yet]
- I’m thankful for coaching exercises that help me along my weight loss journey.
- I’m thankful that an adorable boy loves to hold mama’s arm as he drifts off to sleep and a husband who’s within one standard deviation from normal (don’t ask).
- Mostly, I’m thankful that faith doesn’t have to be perfect and beautiful to be real. It can be flawed, scarred, faded, and still lead me back to Jesus.
Last week, Matt and I took Thomas for a walk around the cabins at Hume Lake. At first, he was content to simply ride along as we pushed him on his tricycle. After a while, he wanted to walk alongside us. After a bit longer, Thomas started to get tired from trekking up and down hills and took off his jacket despite the cold air. He jettisoned his ubiquitous Mickey ear hat a few minutes later. Finally, he stopped in front of me, held his arms up, and demanded that I carry him. No more riding along, definitely no more walking, he hit his limit and only mama’s arms would do for the rest of the walk home.
Later that night, I, too, felt like I hit my limit. I mentioned a few posts back that I had a crazy week with all kinds of random bad stuff, including dental emergencies. It turns out that the bad luck has continued. I’ve been to the dentist 6 times now since my initial visit for planned and unplanned stuff. It has felt like a never ending issue which was finally put to bed a couple weeks ago…or so I thought. As I made dinner that night, my tongue touched a tooth and I thought I felt a new chip. Here we go again! Only this time, I’ve maxed out my yearly dental insurance, so anything else that happens comes out of my already depleted pocket.
At first, I carried this fear around like a dark cloud over my head. Then, I woefully mentioned my new discovery at dinner, eliciting sympathy from my dining companions. Even after we joked about it and moved on, I could hear this issue nagging in the back of my mind. “What are you going to do? Was it really a new chip? What if you need another new crown, without the benefit of insurance?” Round and round it goes until I’m distracted and exhausted.
I, like Thomas handing over his light jacket and hat, will offer my worry to the Lord in surfacy prayers, “Father, make this all better” while I continue to trudge along, burdened by the crushing weight of real worries. It’s only when I get exhausted that I finally stop and ask him to carry me because I can’t go another step. Last week, I was that exhausted.
Much as I tried to talk myself out of worry, I didn’t have any easy answers. I only had questions, “Why does it take me so long to ask God to carry me? Why do I wait until I’m completely exhausted before honest conversations with the one who already knows my heart?” I still don’t have an answer or even a plan for how to do better in the future. My only plan is to start with an aforementioned honest conversation now.
Heavenly Father, I’m beyond tired. I ache with worry and I need you to carry me. I’m sorry that it took me so long to admit this, but I pray you’d begin to replace my anxiety with your peace. I pray that you’d grow my faith so that Philippians 4:6 would be my go-to response and 4:7 would be my reality.
6 Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. 7 Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.
Frances
Just Frances T 