Four Truths to Remember in 2024

I picked out my 2024 calendar a few weeks ago. It sits on my desk, ready for all the plans and expectations a new year brings. I have specific requirements for a calendar. I like it to have space for monthly, weekly, and daily plans. I like space for lists and reminders, monthly goals and daily tasks.

I guess it’s because I’m a planner. I love thinking about the future. I love setting goals and making plans. I make lists for each day and cross items off as I complete them. There’s some sort of satisfaction in seeing everything crossed off at the end of the day. And my new calendar gives me lots of space to do just that.

A new year, though filled with possibility and dreams yet to come true, can also be filled with uncertainty. In my own life, the past couple of years have brought great loss and upheaval, change and transition. It’s been a struggle to manage the roller coaster of emotions. To find myself in the midst of all the change. To keep my eyes fixed on Christ in the twists and turns of circumstances. Even now, I’m in a season of waiting, wondering what the Lord has next for our family and struggling to keep my hands open for whatever he provides.

I recently read the book, I Want to Escape, by Rush Witt. In it he recounts a story about Andrew Murray who provided counsel to a woman enduring difficult circumstances. At the time, he himself was in physical pain and could not meet the woman in person, so he asked someone else to pass on the message to her instead. He gave her several things to remember about God in times of trouble: 1) “He brought me here. It is by his will I’m in this strait place, in that I will rest.” 2) “He will keep me here in his love, and give me grace in this trial to behave as his child.” 3) “He will make the trial a blessing, teaching me lessons he intends me to learn, and working in me the grace he means to bestow.” 4) “In his good time, he can bring me out again. How, and when, he knows.”

These are truths I’m speaking to my own heart as I embark on a new year. Whatever plans I scratch out in my calendar, whatever lists I make for myself, whatever I hope will happen in 2024, I know that God’s plans supersede my own. He’s already worked out all that this year entails. He’s planned and decreed it to the minutest detail. There are no mistakes to his plan, nothing that he’s overlooked. It will unfold in just the right time and just as I need it. There will certainly be changes to my life in 2024. There will likely be unexpected challenges. There will be lessons to learn and opportunities to rest in his grace. In it all, I know he keeps me in his loving care.

None of us know what 2024 will look like. Yes, we make our plans, but God determines our steps (Prov. 16:9). He is a good and perfect Father. We can trust this new year to him. As Tim Keller once said, “If we knew what God knows, we would ask for exactly what he gives.”

Father in heaven, we enter this new year with open hands, expecting great things from you for you know exactly what we need. Keep us in your loving care and help us to wait and watch with wonder at what you will do in and through us. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Photo by Eric Rothermel on Unsplash

How Will You Number Your Days?

Last month, our women’s ministry team at my church put on an event where we talked about stewardship of the resources God has given us. The event was inspired by Moses’ prayer in Psalm 90: “teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom” (v.12). We invited a panel of women from a variety of ages and stages of life and I asked them questions about what stewardship looks like in their lives. We talked about using our time, gifts, and resources for the glory of God and how it often looks different at the various stages of our lives.

One question I asked them wasn’t really a question at all. I asked them to respond to this statement:

Just because I can, doesn’t mean I should.

It’s a statement I’ve been thinking about ever since.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been prone to say “yes” to just about everything. If the task is of interest to me, something I am capable of doing, and doesn’t interfere with something else, most of the time, I say “yes.” Perhaps it’s my age or the fatigue related to grief or I’ve finally realized that I need to set limits, but I’ve realized that I spin too many plates. I’ve said “yes” to too many things. All those things are good things, in and of themselves. They are all things I enjoy doing. But in spinning so many plates, I’m not doing any one thing well.

Just because I’m capable of doing something, doesn’t mean that I should.

I had a conversation with a friend recently where we talked about the idolatry of productivity—of worshipping how much we can accomplish in our day and of finding our identity and purpose in what we we produce. I know I pride myself on my use of time and how much I can squeeze out of it. Kelly Kapic, in his book, You’re Only Human, writes that “When productivity alone reigns, we cultivate idolatry rather than worship, isolation rather than community, and selfishness rather than love” (p.163). Perhaps this is why I say “yes” to too many things. I find my identity in the ability to juggle many things.

In Psalm 90, Moses points out that our lives are brief.  “The years of our life are seventy, or even by reason of strength eighty; yet their span is but toil and trouble; they are soon gone, and we fly away” (v.10). He contrasts the eternality of God with our lives, reminding us that before the mountains were brought forth, before the earth was formed, God existed (v.2). He also reminds us that our days lie in God’s hands (v.3). We all have a set number of years on this earth and then they come to an end. This contrast reminds me that only God is infinite. Only God is above and before all things. He has no limits. He is not bound by time and space. As Moses wrote, “For a thousand years in your sight are but as yesterday when it is past, or as a watch in the night” (v.4). Yet, I attempt to live my life as though I am limitless—that I am some kind of superhuman capable of accomplishing more than anyone else. And more, I push against my humanity and the limits with which God created me.

After contrasting humanity to God, Moses then asks the Lord to “teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom.” I read John Calvin’s thoughts on this psalm and he commented that it may seem silly to ask the Lord to help us number our days. After all, it’s not that hard to count to eighty years, right? Calvin pointed out that humans can count the number of miles between stars and planets, yet we have such difficulty realizing the brevity of our days. It really is spiritual wisdom to understand how brief our life is and what we ought to do with the time God has given us. Calvin wrote: Moses “teaches us that we then truly apply our hearts to wisdom when we comprehend the shortness of human life. What can be a greater proof of madness than to ramble about without proposing to one's self any end? True believers alone, who know the difference between this transitory state and a blessed eternity, for which they were created, know what ought to be the aim of their life. No man then can regulate his life with a settled mind, but he who, knowing the end of it, that is to say death itself, is led to consider the great purpose of man's existence in this world, that he may aspire after the prize of the heavenly calling.”

As I consider what I should do with my life—and not just what I can do—Moses’ prayer is one that I am praying. It is wisdom to grasp the reality of my finiteness and the limits of my creatureliness. If my Savior in his humanity needed time to rest, how can I think that I don’t need that as well? If my Savior set aside tasks to spend time with the Father in prayer, how can I think that I can just run from one thing to the next in my own strength? Truly, it is wisdom to realize that God is God and I am not. It is wisdom to use the brief years of my life well and for his glory, not my own. For me, this means to not necessarily fill every moment of my day with activity, but to use the time I have well and to be fully present as I do so.

Toward the end of Psalm 90, Moses reminds us that it is God’s favor upon us that enables us to do the work he’s given us. “Let the favor of the Lord our God be upon us, and establish the work of our hands upon us; yes, establish the work of our hands!” (v.17). He says it twice for emphasis. Interestingly, the word favor here is beauty in Hebrew. “Let the beauty of the Lord be upon us.” What is the Lord’s beauty? The wonder and glory of God. The grace and goodness of God. Who he is in his person and character. Calvin comments, “Moses intimates that we cannot undertake or attempt anything with the prospect of success, unless God become our guide and counsellor, and govern us by his Spirit.” Or as Jesus said in John 15:5, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.”

I’m still working through the idea that just because I can do something, doesn’t mean that I should. Part of that means repenting of my idolatry of productivity and finding rest in the One who created me with all my human limits and frailties. As Calvin wrote, may God be my guide and counselor.

Father in heaven: Establish the work of our hands. Yes, establish the work of our hands.

Photo by Amy Tran on Unsplash

Strengthen What is Weak

For the past few weeks I’ve been in physical therapy. I did something to my shoulder—at my age it might have just been doing something as simple as brushing my hair— and the pain was excruciating. The therapist describes it as a shoulder impingement. Basically, my tendon is pinched every time I move my arm. As a result, my range of motion is limited and I can’t hardly reach behind me without pain radiating down my arm.

The physical therapist told me that the main treatment is strengthening the muscles all around the affected area. To that end, I have exercises I’m assigned each day. I’ve since realized how connected everything is in my body. The time I spend hunched over my computer each day affects my back, which in turns affects my shoulder and arm. Areas of weakness in one location trigger other areas of my body.

And as I’ve labored to strengthen what is weak in my arm, shoulder, and back, I can’t help but think of the parallels to my spiritual life.

When I struggle with sin or find myself slogging through a difficult trial or even find myself in an extended dry season of faith, I wonder, are there areas of weakness that are in some way contributing to it? Or keeping me mired down in the weeds? Or making it more difficult to remember what is true? And if so, what areas in my spiritual life need strengthening? And in strengthening those areas, how might that impact my bigger struggles?

Such weaknesses could be anything. From idols of my heart to plain weariness from living life in a fallen world, there are many areas of my faith that need strengthening. Whether it’s identifying temptations and finding ways to avoid them or developing spiritual habits that feed my soul, when any area of weakness is strengthened, it can only impact my heart for good.

For example, one chronic area of weakness for me is my forgetfulness. I forget the goodness and faithfulness of God. I forget what he has done in the past to deliver me. I forget who I am because of Christ. I forget that he’s given me his Spirit who is at work in me even when I don’t realize it. When I forget these things, it impacts how I face a challenge or trial. When I forget God’s character and then face a difficult struggle, I am likely to think that he has left me, is punishing me, or has forgotten me altogether. When I forget the gospel and who I am because of what Christ has done, I am quick to seek false saviors or rely upon myself. I am also slow to repent and turn from sin. So just like in my physical body, one area of weakness has a ripple effect on the rest.

In truth, I forget all these things when I’m not immersed in the Word where it reminds me who God is and what he has done. I also forget when I’m not responding to what I’ve read through prayer—seeking forgiveness for sin, praising and thanking God for his grace, lamenting my fears and sorrows, and asking for his help and deliverance in my life.

The Word and prayer. Two means of grace whereby we receive the benefits of our salvation. And two key ways God works in us to transform us by the Spirit. Like the exercises I do in physical therapy to strengthen the areas around my injury, these means of grace are used by the Spirit to hot only strengthen our faith but to sanctify us. These means equip us to face what is hard. They help us to identify sin and turn from it. They feed and fuel and sustain us. They change and transform us. Utilizing these means helps us in the face of both temptation and trial. As the psalmist wrote, “With my whole heart I seek you; let me not wander from your commandments! I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you…I will meditate on your precepts and fix my eyes on your ways. I will delight in your statutes; I will not forget your word” (Ps. 119:10-11, 15-16). And as our Savior said, “I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing” (John 15:5).

To be honest, the work of physical therapy hurts. Even more than it did when I first injured it! Sometimes I think it would be easier to just not use my arm anymore. After all, I don’t always need two working arms. I could get away with only using one to reach things. Or ask other people to get things for me. But as my therapist tells me, the pain is part of the process. It’s necessary to bring about healing. I need to do the hard work in order to see my arm’s abilities restored.

How true this is in our spiritual lives! The work that the Spirit does to sanctify us is painful. It’s not easy to read and study the Word and allow its probing light to shine upon our sin. It’s not easy to take an honest look at our heart and see areas where we need God’s grace to cleanse and make us new. It’s also stretching and challenging to develop new habits and rhythms to be in the Word and prayer. But whatever stretches us can only make us stronger.

Anyone who has gone through physical therapy or set an athletic goal and achieved it, knows that their labor is not in vain. On the other side of physical therapy or the athletic pursuit, the person is stronger and healthier. How much more so when we utilize the means of grace in our spiritual lives! For as Paul wrote, “for while bodily training is of some value, godliness is of value in every way, as it holds promise for the present life and also for the life to come” (1 Tim. 4:8). So utilizing the means God has provided to minister to and strengthen our hearts, through the power of the Spirit, has value not only now, but also into eternity.

Despite the pain, I’m sticking it out with physical therapy and am thankful for the progress I’ve made. Even more, I’m thankful for the grace of God who gave me his Spirit who works in me to change me from the inside out.

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

The Transitions that Shape Us

Transitions in life can be hard, whether you expect them or not.

I remember when my boys were little and they struggled with transitioning from one activity to the next. I would prepare them for it by saying things like, “In fifteen minutes, we’ll have to clean up the toys because then it’s time to: have lunch, go to an appointment, take a nap, etc.” I’d then give them the five-minute warning. Then I’d tell them it’s time to put the toys away and there’d be all sorts of complaining.

The worst was when I had to prepare them to leave a friend’s house because it was time to return home!

Life is filled with transitions, both big and small. Some we look forward to, others we don’t. Some we expect and prepare for, and others seem to catch us by surprise. No matter the transition, and whether we see its arrival on the horizon or not, any change in life often comes with some kind of struggle or challenge.

When I finished college and started applying for my first job, I remember just wanting to find something in my field. After all, that’s why I went to college, right? I nearly accepted a job as a bank teller because I couldn’t find anything else when a position opened at a domestic violence shelter. I was thrilled! It was a counseling position working with women in abusive relationships. I couldn’t wait to use all my freshly honed skills and knowledge. I remember the feeling of excitement that finally I would be doing what I was called to do: help women and make a difference in their lives. Yet the transition from college to my first job in the field didn’t come without its challenges. That’s because my efforts were not received quite as I expected. I was twenty-one and newly married. The women in the shelter must have thought I was a kid and responded to me as such. They didn’t take me seriously. They questioned my skills and my ability to help them. It was a transition that stretched me in many ways. I was humbled and what I learned most from that experience was that I didn’t really know much at all.

Another big transition in life came when we went from being a family of two to a family of three. Having our first son was something my husband and I were thrilled about and looked forward to. But the transition was challenging and sometimes downright hard. I had a new person I was responsible for. There was so much to learn and I knew so little. I often felt helpless and inadequate. The changes to my life were rapid fire: My priorities changed. My expectations for daily life changed. The relationship dynamics between my husband and I changed. While it was a joy-filled time of life, it also stretched me in ways that continue on to this day.

Now I face a new life transition. It’s a transition that has been creeping up on me for some time now. It’s a transition I know is coming and I’ve tried to prepare for it but I also know that when it comes it will hit me hard. My oldest leaves for college soon and my youngest will follow not long after. That transition will be not unlike the days of being a brand new mom. Life will feel like it’s been flipped upside down. My day to day life will change in drastic ways. I will have to relearn how to do life without kids in the house. And I’ll have to learn how to parent adult children.

I already feel a bit like my kids used to when I’d tell them it was time to move on from something they enjoyed doing to another task. I want to cling to the present and ignore the future knocking at my door. I want things to stay the same. I don’t want to have to struggle through another life transition. But at the same time, I know this transition is good for both myself and for my sons. But as I look back on all the other transitions in life I’ve experienced—both the ones I looked forward to and the ones I resisted—I know there are important lessons for me to learn. I know there is good work that takes place in those challenges—work that God is doing in and through me. For it is in the stretching—in the push and pull on my heart—that I am shaped into the image of Christ.

Life is filled with change and transitions from one season to another. I know that many more are in my future. I want my heart to see these transitions as opportunities to grow in Christ-likeness. I want to see God in them. I want to depend upon him as I walk through them. Even more, I want to rejoice in the struggle, knowing that “suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us” (Rom. 5:3-5).

How about you? What life transitions have shaped you? And how have you seen God’s hand at work in them?

Photo by Jens Lelie on Unsplash

A Summer Update

I’ve been quiet here on the blog this summer. It’s not been the summer I expected, but it’s been a good one. No matter the uncertainties of life, this is what I know is true: “For the LORD is good; his steadfast love endures forever, and his faithfulness to all generations” (Ps. 100:5). That’s what I’ve been clinging to lately in all the ups and downs of life.

I had a full spring, marketing my two books that released, (Like Our Father and God Hears Your Heart) traveling to speak at retreats, taking a seminary class, and preparing my son for graduation. By the time graduation arrived, I was spent. Mentally exhausted. I couldn’t write another thing if I had to.

To celebrate my son’s graduation, we had planned a big trip abroad. But the day before we were to leave, I came down with COVID and we had to cancel the trip. The virus then triggered my asthma which I’ve just recently gotten back under control. All of this forced me to slow down and rest. Which I needed! That’s why I haven’t written on the blog since May. I needed to rest physically and mentally. And most of all, spiritually. I needed space to think through and process all that took place this past spring and what the Lord is doing in my heart as I anticipate my son leaving for college next month.

While our big trip was cancelled, I have enjoyed a couple of trips, joining my husband on business. I also had the opportunity to cheer both my sons on as they ran a Spartan race together in Ohio in June. The TGC Women’s Conference in June was refreshing and encouraging as I got to connect with old friends and make new ones.

I’m in a transitional season of life and am waiting and watching to see what the Lord has next for me. We launch one off to college and his brother will follow just a few years later, which I know will be a big adjustment for me. Especially after all those years of homeschooling! This summer, I’m thinking through future book projects—more to come on that! I continue to train a team to provide one-another-care to women at my church, which I hope to launch soon. A friend of mine has started a private practice and I plan to work for her part-time once it opens. I’m excited about all these opportunities but they are all plans I hold loosely, expecting the Lord to do great things—whatever they might be.

Well, that’s about it for me. What are you up to this summer?

Photo by Urip Dunker on Unsplash

Enough for Today

I’ve always been a planner. I set goals and work toward them. I look ahead to potential obstacles and prepare for them. My friends know to come to me for a Band-aid or an Advil or a pen to write with because my purse is fully stocked. I’m quick to remind my sons of their own Boy Scout motto, “a Scout is always prepared.”

If there’s one thing I’ve learned these past couple of years, it is the importance of holding all my plans loosely. To live open handed, yielding to the Lord’s plan and not my own. To trust in his timely provision of grace. As James exhorts us, “you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that” (James 4:15). I learned this during the pandemic, when one plan after another was cancelled—a humble reminder that I have no control over the details of my life. I learned it too when I was in a car accident—over a year ago now—one whose residual trauma made it difficult to drive for a while. My life then seemed to shrink down to moment by moment as I was forced to slow down, to rest, and to wait for healing.

These lessons are hard, but necessary, for they push me to trust in the Lord to meet my needs for today, not trusting in my well thought out plans, lists, or stocked emergency kit. Now don’t get me wrong, being prepared is a good thing. The trouble is when those preparations make us think we are in control—that we are the gods and goddesses of our own kingdoms. When we put our trust in our plans, lists, and preparations rather than in God. When we cease to be dependent upon him and trust in our strength and provision instead.

I am reminded of the Lord’s faithful provision for his people in Exodus. When God brought the Israelites out of Egypt and into the wilderness, he fed them each day with manna. It was a bread-like substance that appeared on the ground each day. The Bible compares it to coriander seed which they had to gather each morning. Imagine picking up tiny seeds each day, enough for your family to eat! Based on how much my teenage boys eat, I would have spent the entire day gathering enough for just one meal!

They had to consume the manna the same day for by the next day it would go bad and be inedible. Before the Sabbath, they gathered enough to last throughout their day of rest. In this way, God taught them to rely on him each day to provide for their needs. Jesus spoke about the manna in John 6, revealing that manna pointed to something greater than daily bread; it pointed to Someone greater. "Truly, truly, I say to you, it was not Moses who gave you the bread from heaven, but my Father gives you the true bread from heaven. For the bread of God is he who comes down from heaven and gives life to the world” (John 6:32-33).

God gives us the grace we need for this day. And then the next day, he’ll provide what’s needed for that day. This doesn’t mean we don’t have tasks to do. It doesn’t mean we simply sit back and wait for life to happen. After all, Israel had to go out and pick up the manna God provided. In a similar way, we have to utilize the means of grace God provides. We have to read and study God’s word to know his will for our lives. We have to pray and ask him to meet our needs. We have to fellowship with other believers who can direct us to his grace when we’ve lost our way. We go out and pick up the manna for this day, knowing that tomorrow’s manna will arrive right on time.

Ultimately, it’s a heart posture. It’s living out the truth that we submit all our goals and plans to the One who rules over them. It’s a submissive, humble heart that trusts the Lord to meet us where we are with exactly what we need, when we need it. It’s a heart that doesn’t fear the future. It’s a heart that doesn’t trust in our own way, but in God’s way. It’s a heart that desires God’s will, not our own. As Tim Keller once tweeted, “If we knew what God knows, we would ask exactly for what he gives.”[1]

How freeing this is! I continue to make my plans. I still prepare for the day, for the week, for even the year. My purse still has an extra pen and Band-Aid for anyone who needs it. But all those plans and preparations must be entrusted to the Lord and his perfect will. My plans may go as expected or they might not. But one thing I do expect is great things from God—for his plans are far far greater than my own.

[1] https://twitter.com/timkellernyc/status/425310026203680768?lang=en

*Photo by Lina Trochez on Unsplash