The Encouragement We Really Need

While riding my exercise bike one morning, I listened as the online trainer talked about difficulties he had overcome in both physical training and in life. He then said something like, “whatever you are going through, you will get through it, if you just believe in yourself.”

“Just believe in yourself.” It’s a phrase we hear all the time, so much so that it seems true. After all, if I don’t believe I can do something, like say run a marathon, I likely won’t try that hard to train and therefore won’t finish the race. But what about other things we face in life? Does belief in oneself help someone when their spouse betrays them? Does belief in oneself make the cancer go away? Does belief in oneself pay the bills? Does belief in oneself rescue us from our fears? Does belief in oneself save us from sin, restore us into right relationship with God, and bring reconciliation to broken relationships? (Those are rhetorical questions, by the way.)

The Bible cautions against belief in oneself and often calls such belief idolatry. That’s because it is the Lord alone who delivers his people. It is the Lord alone who is our strength and shield, our life and hope. That’s what the writer of Psalm 121 wrote in this Psalm of Ascent. When Israelite pilgrims journeyed to the temple in Jerusalem for sacred celebrations and worship, they sang specific psalms along the way. Our family once visited Israel and as our bus traveled from the Judean countryside, up the steep and winding roads to Jerusalem, we recited these same psalms together, including Psalm 121. It is a psalm which reminds us to keep our gaze set on our only source of hope in times of trouble.

And it’s not ourselves.

Psalm 121

I lift up my eyes to the hills.
From where does my help come?
My help comes from the LORD,
who made heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot be moved;
he who keeps you will not slumber.
Behold, he who keeps Israel
will neither slumber nor sleep.

The LORD is your keeper;
the LORD is your shade on your right hand.
The sun shall not strike you by day,
nor the moon by night.

The LORD will keep you from all evil;
he will keep your life.
The LORD will keep
your going out and your coming in
from this time forth and forevermore.

The pilgrim’s journey to Jerusalem likely paralleled the daily troubles of life as they faced danger and uncertainty on the dusty roads. There were often thieves lying in wait, looking for travelers from whom they could steal. The desert sun bore down on them. Wild animals were a concern. In their journey, God’s people trusted in their covenant making and keeping Yahweh to keep and preserve them, both in daily life and in their travels to the temple, to the place of God’s presence. In this psalm, we see that their hope and help was found not in created things—and certainly not in themselves—but in the Creator (v.1). He is the omnipotent God who spoke and light appeared. He is the one true King who reigns over the universe and nothing happens apart from his sovereign purpose and will. He is not man that he should need sleep (v.4), therefore he keeps his people always in his care. He is like the shade one seeks when the sun beats down on weary travelers (v.5-6). And more, he keeps his people from all evil (v.7). What a gracious and merciful God!

Six times this passage tells us that God “keeps” his people. The Hebrew word used means to keep, preserve, protect. And it’s not just referring to his people as a whole, but to “you” as an individual. God keeps you in his sovereign care. God protects you from evil. Another thing that stands out is that God alone is our keeper. Nothing in this psalm references things that we do, only what God does for us. He is the one who watches over us. He is the one who keeps and preserve us. He is the one who ensures we endure to eternity. He is the one “who will sustain you to the end, guiltless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Cor. 1:8).

In our culture, it sounds encouraging when someone attempts to motivate us by saying “you’ve got this” and “believe in yourself.” The Bible disagrees. There’s no power in those words. There’s no power inherent in us. Apart from Christ, we can do nothing (John 15:5). But the God of all power, the very Creator himself, has called you to himself and he will keep you. That’s real encouragement. “From this time forth and forevermore.”

Photo by Robert Bye on Unsplash

When Spring Comes Slowly

We’ve lived in the south for almost seven years now and I still marvel at how spring unfolds here. After living in S. Florida for so long, where there is only one season—summer—I just love to watch the trees bud and flower. I love the color that bursts on scene, pushing away the grey of winter. I love being a witness to new life.

Where I live, spring begins its arrival sometime in February (though this year I spotted some in late January) with the daffodils. All of a sudden, my neighbor’s yards had spots of yellow pop out of the ground. They stood in cheery contrast to the brown grass and dead leaves around them. Then the tulip trees bloomed in their purple glory. This weekend, I noticed the tiniest of buds on my Merlot Redbud tree my son helped me plant this past summer.

Each week I wonder, what will bloom next?

While there’s a date on the calendar when spring officially arrives, in reality, it comes on slowly. I know the leaves on my backyard trees won’t be full and green until mid to late March. My azalea bush and dogwood tree won’t peak until April. Each arrives in its own time.

The Bible uses many agrarian illustrations and metaphors to point to spiritual truths. It talks about faith in terms of seed, plant growth, and harvest. It describes our union with Christ to be like that of vines and branches. Jesus compares the evidences of one’s faith to that of fruit from a healthy tree. Such illustrations made sense to those in ancient times where most people were farmers. They lived off the land and understood the seasons of sowing and harvesting. For those of us who can’t keep a simple house plant alive and who pick our apples, not from a tree but from the neatly stacked rows in the produce section of the local grocers, these illustrations take more work to understand.

But I think spring gives us that opportunity to watch and learn how God works in our lives.

Spring reminds us that growth takes time and that we often have to endure the dark days of winter first. My son’s Civic Club planted hundreds of daffodil bulbs last fall in front of his school. Many months those bulbs remained in the quiet darkness. Above ground, it seemed like nothing was happening. But underground, even in the cold of winter, growth was taking place. This is true in our lives. God is still at work even when we don’t feel it. Even in the darkest days, he never ceases his work in us. “…for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure” (Phil. 2:13). Spring is a reminder that growth in our own lives and in the lives of others is a process. And we remain a work in process until the day that Christ returns.

Spring also reminds us that there is an end to our waiting. There’s an expiration date to the dark and dreary days of winter—and to the shadows of sorrow cast upon our life. It’s an annual reminder that life rises on the other side of death. What we experience now is temporary; the joy of eternity awaits.

Spring reminds us of this hope:

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God’s power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ” (1 Peter 1:3-7).

So, when spring comes slowly, may it remind us of how God works in our lives. Because he is at work. Always. The fruit will come in its time. The glory awaits. Just watch and see.

Photo by Михаил Павленко on Unsplash

What the Gospel Says to Those Who Suffer

He’s forgotten how to walk.

This thought hit me as I gripped by father’s arm and urged him forward across the living room. I found myself instructing him: Push down on your cane. Lift your foot. Put it down. Push down on your cane again. As we approached the chair he wanted to sit in, I again coached him through the steps required for him to turn around and sit back into the chair safely.

Later, he turned to me and asked, “What is your name?”

“Christina,” I responded. “What your name?” I asked in return.

He paused and with a bit of hesitation, told me his name. I smiled and nodded.

I handed him the photo book I gave him for Christmas last year. The one that had pictures of my family with our names and facts about us. It includes photos of my boys, one in his football uniform, the other in his cross country uniform. He keeps the album next to his chair to flip through when he wants to remember something.

It wasn’t an hour later that he shared with me a memory of visiting me where we used to live in Florida. He described the neighborhood and details about our house. But then another hour later, he was staring off into space, lost in world of his own.

My husband and I made this trip after learning that my father’s Alzheimer’s had worsened and my mother needed help. It made matters worse that hurricane Ian had just whipped through Florida and the power was out everywhere. On our drive down the interstate, we past one power truck after another, pickups pulling large generators, and disaster response teams. They were all headed to meet the needs of people after a horrific storm.

We were headed to see how we could help in my parent’s personal storm.

Alzheimer’s is everything you hear about and more. It’s as heartbreaking as you can imagine. It is debilitating. It causes confusion and fear. Most of all, it’s a thief, first of treasured memories, then of basic life skills. It’s like taking apart a puzzle, one piece at a time. But not in any kind of order; rather, in a random sort of way. The picture retains its outer shape, but the inside has holes scattered throughout. Those holes only get bigger and bigger.

Until there’s no picture left at all.

I have to believe that the gospel has something to say to those suffering the wretched horror of Alzheimer’s or every other disease we experience in life. It has to say something to those who find themselves at death’s waiting room, not knowing when their name will be called. It has to say something to those who care for the suffering, who pour themselves out day and night to meet the needs of a loved one who can’t do for themselves anymore.

The gospel has to speak to those who suffer.

And it does. In fact the entire Bible is the story of a God who cared about his people’s suffering so much, he entered into time and history in order to do something about it. Whenever I experience personal suffering and I need to preach the gospel to my heart, to remind myself of who God is and what he has done and why that matters in the dark moments of life, I always return to the beginning of the story. In returning to the beginning, we are reminded that diseases such as Alzheimer’s find their origins in the fall of man, for when God created the world, there was no illness. There was no decay. Our first parent’s bodies worked as they were created to. They had no aches or pains—no disease that ravaged and destroyed the bodies God had made. Their lives were complete and whole. It wasn’t until that moment in the garden where Adam and Eve broke God’s law and ate from the Tree that sin then entered the world, and along with it, sickness and death.

All disease traces its roots back to that day. That’s why we are right to grieve the physical illnesses and pains of life, because they do not belong; they are not part of God’s original creation.

But God showed his grace to our parents that day when he found them attempting to hide from him, ashamed of what they had done. God not only covered their sin and shame, but he also made a promise, what theologians call the proto-evangelium—the first gospel. In Genesis 3:15, God promised a rescuer, one who would go up against Satan and defeat him—one who would rescue us from the wretched curse of sin and death.

Jesus came to fulfill that promise. He came to conquer sin and death. He came to break the curse of sin that separates us from the One who made us. And he did so through his perfect life and sacrificial death on our behalf. The gospel assures those who suffer that our Savior suffered for us so that we will not suffer for all eternity. He made us right with God so that now, through faith in Christ, we have the assurance of eternity forever in a place where there is no more sin, sickness, or sorrow. We are cleansed from sin, forgiven, and made new creations. Because Jesus rose from the grave, he ensured our own resurrection at the last day. On that day, we will have bodies that are whole and complete, free from sin, and free from the ravages of illness and disease. What a glorious thing to imagine!

The gospel not only gives us hope for the future, but it also gives us hope right now in the present. It tells us that our Savior knows our pain; he knows our suffering. The Bible calls him the “Man of Sorrows.” “Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed” (Is. 53:4-5). The author to the Hebrews says, “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (4:15-16). We have a compassionate Savior who knows what life is like in a fallen world. He calls us to come to the throne and bear our lay our burdens before him. And he promises grace and help in our time of need.

Even more, when he left to return to the Father, Jesus sent his Spirit who now lives within his people. The Spirit fills us with hope as he reminds us of God’s word, as he counsels and comforts our weary hearts, as he equips and enables us to do the work we are called to, and as he transforms us into the image of Christ. We have the very Spirit of Christ living within us. The same Spirit that raised Christ from the dead is at work in our hearts. It is this Spirit who even now prays for us when we are too weary to pray for ourselves. “Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words. And he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God” (Rom. 8:26-27).

Over the past year, my parents’ days were reduced to the square feet of their house, where the routine was consistent, making life predictable and safe for my dad. One routine was their evening Bible study where my mom read aloud to my dad. I don’t know how much it impacted him in recent weeks as his disease worsened, but I pray that the words of life and the promises of God’s grace for him in Christ—words he’s heard his whole life—brings comfort and peace as he enters into another stage of his disease.

It was hard to see my father so debilitated. I felt helpless. It grieved my heart. It’s not right for a child to instruct a parent in how to do the basic things of life. It reverses the natural order of things. In those moments of helplessness, I just kept praying, “Father, please provide.” He did and I know he will continue to do so. My father is now in a long term care facility where he will receive the care he needs—until the day when he meets his Savior face to face.

Life in this fallen world is hard. It’s painful. It’s filled with sorrow. But for those who trust in Christ, we do not grieve as those who have no hope. For our hope is found in a person, our Savior, who suffered on our behalf, and who will one day return to take away our suffering once and for all.

Father in heaven, I pray for all those who are wounded by the effects of life in this fallen world, whose bodies betray them by sickness and disease. The sorrow and fear they feel is great and at times just as debilitating as the disease. And just as great for those who provide care. I pray that you would comfort the hurting with your perfect love. I pray you would shower your grace upon them, that they would know the depths of your love for them. That you would be with them. That you would sustain them and carry them. Until that day when Jesus returns to make all things new. In Jesus’ name, amen.

Photo by Dominik Scythe on Unsplash

When What is Broken is Made Whole

Those who know me, know how much I love antiques. I love exploring those big shops filled with individually run booths with displays of items from yester year. I especially enjoy looking at things that people used in everyday life, imagining who used it, and what their life was like.

One year, after a day spent exploring antique shops, I purchased an old secretary desk. I loved the pull down front, complete with a lock and skeleton key. The space for writing was covered in faded red leather, and behind it stood slots and cubbies waiting to be filled with stationery supplies. It was built of solid honey stained oak and I pictured a woman from a hundred years before, sitting at the desk, writing a letter to a loved one far away.

I placed the secretary in the back of my van and headed home. The problem was (and still is!), I’m not the packer in my family and didn’t think about securing it in any way. The first bump I drove over made the desk toppled over. As soon as I heard a thud, I had a bad feeling. When I arrived home and opened the back of the van, I discovered the desk had fallen apart in pieces. Many pieces.

I was crushed.

My husband and father-in-law took charge. They applied wood glue to all the pieces and held them together with clamps. A couple days later, the desk stood there as it had before. You couldn’t tell it had fallen apart.

That was almost fifteen years ago and the desk still stands tall in my kitchen. I often look at it and remember the sorrow I felt when it broke apart and the joy I felt when it was mended. It reminds me of my own life and how the Lord has healed my own brokenness. It reminds me that even when things are at their worst, there is still hope. Because God is a God of redemption. He takes what is broken and makes it whole. I can attest to this in my own life and have witnessed it in the lives of others.

But the greatest testimony of this is that of our Savior, Jesus Christ. Imagine what the disciples must have thought and felt when they saw Jesus crucified. I imagine not only the great grief but also the despair and hopelessness. How could anything come of Jesus’ death? But then the resurrection! They saw Jesus’ broken body healed. They talked and walked and ate with him. And because Jesus conquered death and overcame the grave, he now sits at the right hand of God. He reigns on high and even now is at work to make all things new. “And he who was seated on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new” (Rev. 21:5).

Jesus defeated sin and death. And by his perfect life lived for us and his sacrificial death in our place, he redeems and restores us. He cleanses us from sin. He brings us back into right relationship with God. He makes all that is broken whole. Indeed, those who are in Christ are new creations (Rom. 6:11, 2 Cor. 5:17). The Spirit is at work in us even now, transforming us into the image of Christ. And one day, that work will be complete. What glorious hope we have in Christ!

Life often seems like my broken secretary desk, fallen apart into too many pieces to count. But God can do even more than simply glue the pieces of life back together; he gives new life. He transforms.

Have you seen God take what is broken and make it new?

Photo by Jazmin Quaynor on Unsplash

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.

When You Need Hope for the New Year

As 2020 came to a close, I don’t know about you, but I breathed a sigh of relief. I was all too ready to close that difficult chapter on a very hard year. To put the chaos and heartache of the year behind me. To move on to something new and better.

Flipping the calendar page to a fresh new year always gives me a sense of anticipation. Expectation. Hope. Promise. Do you ever feel that way? Do you ever think: Maybe this year will be the year I finally_____. Change jobs? Move? Get married? Have a baby? Grow the ministry? See that goal I’ve worked so hard for finally come to fruition?

And above all, move on from a pandemic?

For some of us though, a new year may not announce a new opportunity or bring hope for change or provide anticipation that a dream will come true. Rather, it rings in with dread, fear, or disappointment. For some, an unwanted medical procedure looms on the horizon. For others, a new year brings a job loss or worse, another year of unemployment. Some flip the calendar page knowing that the relationship conflict they've been in all last year will only continue on into the next or that the grief they carried in 2020 will only follow them into 2021. 

Not everyone will see this new year as the promise of something new and better, but more of the same, and perhaps, the announcement of something worse. 

If you are looking at the year ahead and feel a sense of dread, I want to encourage you. If you fear that 2021 will simply be a repeat of 2020, I want to point you to hope. 2021, though filled with unknowns, is not unknown. Though it may contain heartache, challenge, and difficulty, is not a year to fear. That's because God knows what lies ahead for you. He knows each day and every moment to come. As David wrote, "all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be" (Psalm 139:16). All the days of this year have been written in God's book and he writes a good story. He carefully constructed the moments of 2021 in exactly the right order as they should be. He wove the threads of time to bring about what you need most this year.

For those who trust in Christ for their salvation, God has promised to work all things—the good, the not-so-good, and the bad—together for ultimate good. "And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified" (Romans 8:28-30).

While we tend to start a new year with grand plans and a few weeks later, give up and move on, God finishes what he starts. Those whom he chose before all time, he also called to himself. Those whom he called to be his own, he also saved by grace, through the blood of Christ. Those whom he saved, he also transforms and makes holy. From before the beginning of time, to this moment now, God is unfolding and following through on his plan to redeem and transform both you and I into the likeness of Jesus.  

As you stand on the precipice of 2021, don't fear the future for it is in the hands of your sovereign God. Don't dread the unknown for it is fully known by your omniscient Father. Don't grow weary by the challenges to come, for God is with you. He is actively involved in every moment you face this year and is your help in all trouble (Psalm 46:1). He is your refuge and your strength. He will never leave you.

Whatever challenges or trials come your way this year, remember God is and what he has done. Remember that he is good and righteous and sovereign. Remember that he loved you before time began and chose you to be his beloved. Remember that he sacrificed his Son to redeem you and make you his own. Remember that he gave you his Spirit to work in you, in both the good and the bad, to change and re-shape you. And remember, unlike New Year's resolutions, God always finishes what he starts (Philippians 1:6).  

Instead of the New Year being a harbinger of bad things to come, may it instead be a reminder of the One who is even now making all things new—including each of us. May Christ be our source of hope in 2021.