Trust in the Face of Change

One thing I’ve learned about life is that once you get used to a particular season or role, life changes. I’ve found this to be true in parenting, marriage, work, and ministry. I remember well how hard it was when my boys dropped their afternoon naps. That was a change I didn’t like at all!

I used to resist change. Or at least try to manage it so that I could know what to expect and prepare for it. I guess it’s because there’s a certain degree of comfort when you think you know what lies ahead. When you feel equipped to face the day because it’s the same as the one before it. When you’ve finally reached a level of confidence in how to do a certain job or task. Yet change inevitably cuts into our life with a harsh reminder that we don’t have control over our lives. For we all too quickly forget that we are dependent upon God and need his rescuing grace.

I’m in the middle season of life, a season filled with constant change. Certainly, there are many physical changes (that’s a whole other blog post!). There are changes in motherhood as I increasingly let go of my duties and watch my children learn to fly on their own. There are changes in marriage as my husband and I find more time and opportunity to focus on our relationship in ways we haven’t for far too long. Some changes are good and bring great joy; others are hard and bring only grief and sorrow.

This year is my oldest son’s senior year. It’s a year of lasts: the last cross country race, last birthday at home, last school events, last holidays. It’s also our last year to pour into his heart all the things we want him to know before he’s unleashed into the world to make his own way. It’s an emotional year for me, a year filled with both grief and joy. Grief at the finality of this season of parenting, the ending of all these years of homeschooling, the ending of all the daily interactions and family life I’ve grown so used to these last seventeen plus years. But there’s joy too as I celebrate with him the fruition of all he’s worked so hard for. It’s a joy to engage with him as a young adult and talk together about his future. I’ve enjoyed watching him think through decisions and develop goals for his life.

Meanwhile, this past fall my father was diagnosed with dementia. Like most diagnoses, this one took us by surprise and flipped my parents’ life upside down. Dementia is a disease that is often referred to as the “Long Goodbye.” I now know why that is. The diagnosis has brought with it grief and sorrow, worry and fear. I’ve found myself in a new role, helping my family navigate it and serving them in whatever way I can. As anyone in this middle stage of life can attest, it’s challenging to care for the needs of your family at home, while also wanting to help your parents who live far away.

In the midst of these changes in my life, I continue to work in discipleship ministry for women—writing, speaking, discipling, and coordinating women’s ministry. I’ve also been developing a lay- counseling/discipleship/one-another-care ministry for women at my church and am excited to see the many months of labor finally come together. While I’m excited to serve the Lord in this way, I feel a profound sense of my weakness. I worry about getting it wrong. I fear letting people down. I feel uncertainty and a weight of responsibility. This change too is another one where I feel my desperate need for God’s grace to equip and sustain me.

While much changes in our lives, from season to season, in our roles and in our labors, one thing remains the same: God never changes. He is the constant in all the unknown. He is the steady horizon when the storms of life swell over us. When everything is chaos, when we are filled with fear or sorrow, our God is with us. When we fill ill equipped to a new task or overwhelmed by uncertainty and lack of knowledge, we can turn to Christ, in whom are found all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Col. 2:3). We can take comfort in our Lord’s providential care for us and his sovereign rule over all things. While we don’t know what the future holds, we can trust that God not only knows what will take place, he has already determined all that will happen. Though we are weak, we can rest in his strength. As we face the changes and transitions of life, we can be confident that the Lord is at work. He will be our refuge.

I often find comfort in the words of the psalmist, “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, though the mountains be moved into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam, though the mountains tremble at its swelling” (Ps. 46:1-3). Some events in life feel like our whole world is shifting. It feels like it’s the end of life as we know it. The psalmist reminds me that even if the earth were to give way, even if the mountains were to fall into the sea, God remains our refuge and strength. He is our help and hope.

Dear friends, if you find that your own life is in the midst of transition and change, trust God to meet you where you are with his rescuing love and grace. He is our certain hope in all the uncertainty of life.

A Thanksgiving Prayer

“Give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever” (Ps. 136:1).

It’s that time of year when we gather with friends and family and enjoy a Thanksgiving feast. It’s the time of year where we share with one another what we are grateful for— when we reflect on all the good things we’ve enjoyed the past year. We find ourselves listing the people we cherish, the gracious provisions we’ve received, and the prayers God has answered. We remember experiences we’ve enjoyed. We remember how God has provided for our needs. We remember the people he brought into our lives to encourage us. We remember hard journeys we’ve taken and how we’ve come out on the other side. These are all good things, things for which we ought to rejoice and give thanks to the Lord.

Yet believers are called to give thanks, not just once a year, but all the year through. In fact, it is God’s will that we give thanks in all circumstances (1 Thess. 5:18). And while we do give thanks for all that we have received, for answered prayers, for all we enjoy in life, we also give thanks even when we are empty handed. Psalm 136 reminds us to give thanks to the Lord, not just for what he provides, but also for who he is.

This psalm tells us to give thanks because:

• He is good and his love endures forever (v.1)

• He is God above all gods, Lord above all lords (vv. 2-3)

• He created all things (vv.4-9)

• He acts in history to bring about his purposes and redemption (vv.10-22)

• He saves and provides for his people (vv.23-26)

On this side of the cross, we can add to this list God’s greatest act of redemption, the sending of his Son to die on the cross for our sins. We can add his Spirit at work in our lives to make us new. We can add the promise and hope of eternity forever with him.

Some years when Thanksgiving rolls around, we might have many things on our list for which to give thanks. Other years, we may find ourselves in the midst of deep sorrow and suffering and find it harder to create that list. Whatever our year has been like— whether our hands are full or empty— we raise them up in praise to give thanks to the Lord for who he is.

He is good and his love endures forever.

Father in heaven,

You are good and your love endures forever. I come before you with a heart filled with sorrow from life lived in a fallen world. I come before you with worries and fears. I come before you uncertain about the future. Some days it’s hard to see the good among all the bad.

Even so, you are good and your love endures forever. I give you thanks and praise you for who you are. You are always good and only do what is good. I see this in your sovereign care over all you have made. I see this in your perfect Word and in your work in my life. I see this in your faithfulness to your covenant promises. Thank you for your steadfast love for me. You chose me, saved me, changed me, and secured me. I am yours forever and nothing and no one can take me from you.

Thank you for Jesus, for who he is and what he has done in his life, death, resurrection, and current reign over all things. When I stop and dwell on this, I am overwhelmed with thanksgiving. When I consider his humility and suffering on my behalf, I am astounded anew at the wonders of his grace. When I focus my heart on him, on how he is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature (Heb. 1:3), I hunger to know more of him. I pray you would give me “the Spirit of wisdom and of revelation in the knowledge of him” (Eph. 1:17).

For you are good and your steadfast love endures forever.

Forgive me when I forget who you are. Forgive me for focusing on the things of earth and not on your rule above it. Forgive me for doubting your love and care for me. Forgive me for living in my own strength, rather than resting in yours.

I pray Psalm 136’s song would the constant refrain of my heart. Help me to sing each day: you are good and your love endures forever.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

O My Soul!

Do you ever think about your thoughts? And more, do you know how powerful they are? It may sound strange to consider, but our thoughts play a significant role in how we respond to life. They help shape our emotions and actions. They lead and guide us down godly paths or ungodly paths. They can speak the truth to us or falsehood.

We can grow so used to our thoughts, they become like the background noise of a busy household. But when we stop and take notice of them, we learn things about ourselves, about our longings and desires, our beliefs and hopes, our expectations of God, ourselves, and others. We learn what we treasure and what we worship.

Paul Tripp once wrote, “no one is more influential in your life than you are, because no one talks to you more than you do.” I know this is true of my own thought life. I talk to myself all the time. I’m always interpreting and evaluating what happens in my day and keep a running commentary in my mind about it. I frequently point out to myself the failings of my past. I warn and caution myself about potential harms to come in the future. I consider and dwell on other people’s responses to me and justify mine in return. I talk myself into decisions or out of them. I rehearse repeated refrains, those statements I say to myself over and over like, “if only x happened, then your life would be better” or “does anyone care?” All these thoughts influence me, often without me realizing it.

When I do stop to notice my thoughts, I also notice what is missing. In fact, its absence is glaring. In all this talking to myself, how often do I tell myself to consider all that God has done? How often do I influence and urge my heart to praise him?

In a recent reading of Psalm 103, I was struck by how David spoke to himself, urging himself to praise the Lord: “Praise the LORD, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise his holy name” (v.1.) He exhorts himself to, “Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all his benefits” (v.2).

What are those benefits he didn’t want to forget?

• forgiveness of sins (v.3)

• healing from disease (v.3)

• redemption of life (v.4)

• steadfast love and mercy (v.4)

• satisfaction with good, so our youth is renewed like the eagle’s (v.5)

But there’s more! David goes on to remind himself of who God is:

• The LORD works righteousness and justice for all who are oppressed (v.6)

• He is merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love (v.8)

• He does not deal with us according to our sins, nor repay us according to our iniquities. (v.10)

• For as high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him (v.11)

• The LORD shows compassion to those who fear him (v.13).

• The steadfast love of the LORD is from everlasting to everlasting on those who fear him (v.17).

• The LORD has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all. (v.19)

Any of these benefits are worth considering. Any one of these characteristics of God is worth meditating upon. Any of God’s works and ways is worth dwelling upon. For David, they seem to build one upon the other into this great crescendo of wonder where he bursts out, calling everyone to praise the Lord—including his own soul. “Bless the LORD, all his works, in all places of his dominion. Bless the LORD, O my soul!” (v.22).

I was always taught not to interrupt someone when they are speaking because it is rude. But in the case of our own self-talk, it’s often necessary that we interrupt ourselves. Even more, to talk back to ourselves. We need to preach the truth to ourselves. We need to rehearse who God is and what he has done. We need to develop new repeated refrains where we dwell on all his benefits.

We need to set on repeat the words, “Bless the Lord, O my soul!”

On Christian Friendship

After more than a year of cancelled retreats and speaking engagements, I’ve been speaking at churches once again. It’s been a sweet time of meeting my sisters in Christ in other places around the country. One of the topics I’m frequently asked to speak on is that of our relationships with one another in the church, based on my book Closer than a Sister. In that book, I wrote about our friendships with one another in the church, how the Bible describes those relationships, and what sets them apart from other friendships we might have. I think that now, more than ever, we see our need for the body of Christ—for our relationships with one another in the church.

I recently participated in a Zoom meeting with a book club in Melbourne, Australia where a group of women recently read Closer than a Sister. We talked about the difference between our friendships with those who are not in Christ and those who are—because there is a difference and an important one. While our non-Christian friends can truly care about us and serve us in practical and needed ways, there is one thing they cannot do for us. While they may love us and accept us, there is one need they cannot meet for us. While they may share a long history with us that our Christian friends might not share, there is a future hope they do not share with us.

What makes our friendships with Christians stand apart from our non-Christian friendships is that our Christian friends long to see us make it home. They want to see us reach the finish line and meet our Savior face to face. They long to see us healed and whole and sanctified. That’s because the friendships we share with other believers is a spiritual one. It goes deeper than even our biological relationships with the members of our family; we share the blood of Christ and are united together for all eternity. We will spend forever together worshipping our Savior face to face.

As we’ve well learned over the last year and a half, we need other people in our lives. God did not create us to be independent people, living as islands unto ourselves. Rather, he created us to be dependent upon him, and interdependent upon one another. This is especially true of the church. The Apostle Paul likens the church to a human body, where Christ is the head and we make up the parts (Rom. 12:4-5). Each part is united together and needs the other parts to function. This means our friendships with those in the body of Christ are crucial. They are fundamental to our life of faith. We simply cannot do life apart from them.

Our Christian friends are on the same path with us to eternity; they walk beside us in that journey. They see us when we stumble and fall and they help us get back up again. Sometimes, they carry us until we can walk on our own. When they see us wander from the path, they call out to us to return. When they see danger ahead, they warn us. They encourage, exhort, and equip us to move forward in the faith. And we do the same for them.

While we will have friendships in many areas of our lives—through school, work, neighborhoods, hobbies and more—our Christian friendships stand apart as unique from the others. Only these relationships are eternal. We certainly shouldn’t forsake one for the other, because after all, the Lord calls us to bring the gospel to the ends of the earth. Lord willing, he will bring our unbelieving friends into the Kingdom with us—let us pray to that end! But we also need to remember just how important our Christian friendships are and take the time to invest in them. To cultivate them. To nurture them. Because we need these friendships and they need us.

“Rather, speaking the truth in love, we are to grow up in every way into him who is the head, into Christ, from whom the whole body, joined and held together by every joint with which it is equipped, when each part is working properly, makes the body grow so that it builds itself up in love” (Eph. 4:15-16).

A Prayer of Trust

“He trusted in the LORD, the God of Israel, so that there was none like him among all the kings of Judah after him, nor among those who were before him” (2 Kings 18:5).

In 1 and 2 Kings we read accounts of various leaders of God’s people. It tells us of kings who did great evil in the sight of God as well as of those who turned back to the Lord, destroyed all the idols, and followed God’s law. In 2 Kings 18-20 we read about King Hezekiah, a king described as one who trusted in the LORD.

Hezekiah was king when the Assyrians threatened Jerusalem. The Assyrian army had already captured Israel and taken them into captivity. Their sights then set on Jerusalem. The king of Assyria sent messengers to Jerusalem to get them to surrender. These messengers mocked both God and Hezekiah. They threatened God’s people, pointing out all the cities and towns they had already conquered. Hezekiah lamented, tore his clothes and put on sackcloth. He then called for the prophet Isaiah who told him not to fear the Assyrian army, for God would make certain they did not attack Jerusalem.

The Assyrian king again sent threatening word to Jerusalem, continuing to mock them, warning them of what his army would do to them. How did Hezekiah respond? He brought these frightening threats to the house of God and “spread them out before the LORD” (2 Kings 19:14). He prayed to God and asked for his deliverance.

“O LORD, the God of Israel, enthroned above the cherubim, you are the God, you alone, of all the kingdoms of the earth; you have made heaven and earth. Incline your ear, O LORD, and hear; open your eyes, O LORD, and see; and hear the words of Sennacherib, which he has sent to mock the living God. Truly, O LORD, the kings of Assyria have laid waste the nations and their lands and have cast their gods into the fire, for they were not gods, but the work of men’s hands, wood and stone. Therefore they were destroyed. So now, O LORD our God, save us, please, from his hand, that all the kingdoms of the earth may know that you, O LORD, are God alone” (2 Kings 19:15-19).

In the face of great fear, Hezekiah turned to the LORD, the great I AM, with a holy fear, a fear of the Lord. He turned to the one who is greater than all earthly kings. He turned to the one who created all things, to the one true God. To the holy and sovereign God who rules over all, including the hearts of kings (Prov. 21:1). Hezekiah turned to God and trusted in him. God then responded to his prayer, “He shall not come into this city or shoot an arrow there, or come before it with a shield or cast up a siege mound against it. By the way that he came, by the same he shall return, and he shall not come into this city, declares the LORD. For I will defend this city to save it, for my own sake and for the sake of my servant David” (2 Kings. 19: 32-34).

God preserved his people. He kept his promise to David that his seed would rule over an everlasting kingdom. For in due time, the King of Kings would incarnate in the house of David, the one who would rescue his people from their greatest enemy: sin and death.

Hezekiah’s prayer of trust in the face of fear is a reminder for us to turn to the Lord with our own cares and fears. As we do so, we pray to the one who created all things. We pray to our covenant making and keeping God. We pray to the one who proved his faithfulness at the cross. We pray to the one who is greater than all that we fear.

A Prayer of Trust in the Face of Fear

Father in heaven,

I come to you with many cares and worries and fears. Life seems like a constant battle. I’m attacked on every side by fears both within and without. The circumstances in the world around me leave me reeling. Everything seems so big and out of control. The trials in my life make me weary. I fear I can’t endure them. And my own sin keeps me from trusting in you. Like God’s people of old, I am tempted to turn to false idols to rescue me. I place my hope in counterfeit gods to make my life easier, safer, and comfortable.

Hezekiah’s prayer reminds me of what is true. You alone are God. There are none beside you. You created all things and by your power they remain. You keep and preserve all you have made by your grace. You are greater than all powers and rulers and authorities. You are seated on your heavenly throne and no one can unseat you. No one can thwart your purpose and will.

You are the unchanging I AM. You are the same God who met Moses at the burning bush proclaiming, “I AM WHO I AM” (Ex. 3:14). You are the same God who fulfilled your promise to David, the same God who delivered your people from Assyria, and the same God who delivered us from sin at the cross through the person and work of your son, Jesus Christ.

Forgive me for looking to my fears and seeing them as greater than you. Forgive me for forgetting who you are. Forgive me for all the ways I place my trust in lesser things. Bear in me the fruit of greater trust. Help me to see you as greater than all that I fear.

Meet me here in my fears with your comfort and love. Rescue and deliver me. Provide for my needs. Be my rock and refuge. Hide me in the shelter of your wings. Help me to remember all that is true.

Because you delivered me from the curse of sin by the death of your Son, I know you are with me and for me this day. I trust and hope in you.

In Jesus’ name, amen.

Talking About 9/11 With Our Children

Have you ever been asked, “Where were you when . . . ?”

As a child, I heard countless stories of my grandfather’s days in the U.S. Army, marching across Europe in World War II, and how the Lord protected him on D-Day.

My mother often shared her memories of hiding under a school desk during Cold War bomb drills, or of watching TV coverage of the moon landing in 1969. And every one of my parents’ generation can tell me where they were the day President Kennedy was assassinated.

I’m now old enough to have stories and memories of where I was when something significant or tragic happened in the world.

On September 11, 2001, I was leading a group counseling session with students at an alternative school when a coworker knocked on the door, pulled me aside, and told me planes had flown into the Twin Towers in New York. It’s a date I’ll never forget.

With the 20-year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks approaching, many of us will spend time recalling that day. We’ll remember where we were, what we felt and thought, what we saw and experienced. We’ll remember the lives lost and the heroes who sacrificed their lives for the sake of others. We’ll remember our national grief and our righteous anger in response to the horrors of that day.

As we do, though, there will be children around us who don’t remember. My children were not yet born on 9/11. To them, it’s a national tragedy, one they read about in the final pages of their history books in school. It’s like the stories I heard as a child of those world wars or of JFK’s assassination—one they don’t have an emotional connection to because they weren’t there.

How can we talk to our children about that day?… to read the rest of this post, visit The Gospel Coalition where I am writing today.