I am standing in the threshold. I can see into the other side, but it is dimly lit, shadows moving about. I look behind me, and I see puppet-like creatures. I am one of them. The marionette pulls the string. I move this way. Another string, I move that way. I see a script being handed to me. A finger wags. “If you cross the threshold, you will be lost. Stick to the script.”
I stand in the doorway, afraid to cross over. But I’m afraid that if I don’t, my life is essentially over—all my choices wrapped up and set in stone, ready to be typed up in a nice obituary. But how would my obituary read on the other side of the threshold? The search for truth never ends. He is the Truth, and He beckons me.
Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.
I’m seeing a circus. The circus master leads the horse through a flaming hoop, yet it is not burned. Am I afraid of being burned? Is He showing me that I’ll be okay?
I set one foot across the threshold. The light is a little brighter now. I hear voices—low, calm, soothing. A fresh breeze blows through the door, and I want to somehow capture it and keep it with me. But the breeze is with me. The breeze is in me.
I feel the assurance to move my other foot across, but it feels like it’s weighted. I can barely lift it off the ground, then it falls back down. I hear a voice in my heart saying, “Just rest. It’s okay. At the right time, I will carry you over. Are you not my bride?”
Faithful Lord, please give me your eyes to see beyond the threshold and the courage to follow wherever you lead. Amen.
The words “safe harbor” keep coming to mind, that Christ is our safe harbor during all the storms of life. Sometimes the water is smooth, and we sail through easily with the praise of God on our lips. Sometimes the water is choppy, and we can manage okay if we send out a few prayer requests and dig a little deeper into the Word. Sometimes the seas are downright rough, but still we manage with the help of our prayer warriors and seeking godly counsel.
Then sometimes we are completely cast overboard. So we look for someone to throw us a life preserver, something we can hold onto and stay afloat, and sometimes someone does. We can climb back in the boat, praise God for our narrow escape, and go back to living life as usual. But sometimes there is no life preserver. You thrash around in the water as best you can, but panic seizes you. You realize that there is nothing or no one that can put you back in the boat. This is how I felt when my former husband died very suddenly.
Just as you are flailing around in the darkness in the water, you look up, and across the waves, you can see a dancing sliver of light. You frantically dog-paddle toward the light, and it becomes a teeny little brighter. You think, “This is too hard. I’m not that good of a swimmer. I thought I was, but I don’t have the strength.” But the light is beckoning. And each time you bravely take a lunge toward that light, a wind seems to come up and push you a little closer.
“I am the light of the world.” The words come from someplace deep inside of you. “In Him was life, and that life was the light of men.” “I have come so that they might have life and have it to the full.” “For I know the plans I have for you….to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you hope and a future.” The words keep coming…“Come to me all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
The Spirit continues to bring the Word from your inner being and gives you the courage to keep slowly moving forward as the light gets brighter and shows you the way. You know those words and you know who the Word is. “Where can I go from your spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.” You stop struggling and let the wind of the Spirit carry you home.
As a light from a lighthouse, He beckons us on until we make it safely back to harbor, safely in His arms. He will never leave us or forsake us. But sometimes he doesn’t allow us to get back into the boat because the boat is not what we need. He lets us feel the panic or the ache or the longing so that we will struggle our way to Him and know that He is enough. No matter how many times we are cast into stormy seas, He will always show us the way to safety because He is the light. Just like Peter in his fear of sinking while walking on the water, we will find that we were never in danger. We were right where we were supposed to be, with Jesus at arm’s reach all along. And though we may lose our way for a time, in Christ we are never lost.
This post was written as an entry in my journal during my season of singleness after the death of my former husband in 2007. Then, seven years later, Mark and I moved to Texas and away from family following the direction of the Lord. It felt at times as though I had again been cast overboard as homesickness overtook me. Reading this post that I wrote so many years ago comforted me at that time because it reminded me He was with us and had a good plan for us. Now, in 2020, we’ve been back in Arkansas with family for almost two years. Still, with all that is going on in the world and the angst that I feel, Jesus continues to be my safe place, the one who holds my heart. He is your safe place too. No matter what you are going through, look for Him. Run to Him. He is faithful. He will carry you through. And if you will say yes to His will, it will be an amazing ride.
Can you embody a faith that you haven’t explored and dissected from the inside out? Inquiring of the Lord unashamedly as you hunger and thirst for truth? Is that not a part of spiritual maturity? In these times of upheaval in our country, with the angst that COVID-19 is lurking around every corner, the politicization of this serious health pandemic, and the thunder of racial unrest colliding with what has been status quo, an unequal one for sure, I find myself searching for answers: What would Jesus say? What would Jesus do? What do I believe?
I have always relied upon the Word of God for truth. I still do. In the last couple of years, even before the current atmosphere in our country, I have been seeking more deeply what it means to love Christ and to live for Him in the unique way he has created me. The last time I had questioned things that I had been taught was when I left the church of my childhood, one that had very legalistic views on who was saved and who was not, what was allowed and what was not. It didn’t feel right to me, but Jesus met me where I was in my early years, and He was enough.
For most of my adult Christian life, I lived habitually, routinely, learning and growing, yes, but not asking the deeper questions as to what I was receiving. I was satisfied with my status quo, and wasn’t it wrong to question anyway? What would that say about me as a Christian? Yet God again met me at every stage of growth in that season, and I’m very thankful for the good foundation in the Word I received.
My life began to change dramatically in the years preceding my becoming a widow and as a single lady. God was my lifeline, the Rock that I clung to during all the upheaval surrounding that time in my life. When I married Mark a few years later, we were immediately called to a healing ministry which has grown in depth to a place we both would have never imagined. We have witnessed the ways of the Lord in his interaction with his broken children, always meeting them at their point of need and capacity to understand the truth He was giving.
We are made in the image of God; indeed, Scripture says we have the mind of Christ if He is our Lord. He gave us our amazing brains to think and to reason, to contemplate. Yet, it is only through the Spirit that we encounter Jesus in the pages of the Bible. We learn how He interacts with man in all manner of circumstances. The Spirit is the one who shows us how to apply the truth in Scripture to the events of this fallen world. In our natural mind, we are only lifting out verses, proof-texting, to justify the words to our own ends.
I’m disheartened because some of what I’ve been taught doesn’t line up with the ways of the Lord I have come to know in an intimate relationship with Him. The purpose of the Word of God is to reconcile hearts to Him, so I’m puzzled because it seems that much of the body of Christ is not exemplifying love, but division. How did Jesus address the political unrest of the day in which He made His appearance on earth? He didn’t address it. He always redirected people to his kingdom saying, “My kingdom is not of this world.” How did He address the social unrest of his day? He said to take care of the needs of people, to love your enemies, and to love one another.
I may not have it all figured out. I may be still questioning some things. But this is my true north: I know Him. My faith, my “belief system,” is a person—Jesus Christ. Though these are unprecedented times for those of us now living, we have an anchor for our souls. And it’s not a church doctrine or a political party or any single interpretation of the Scriptures. Jesus IS the Word. He is faithful to show us truth, to be our guiding light, if we will only look to Him.
Sometimes when it feels as though we have lost our compass, it is only that God is leading us to a new path.
How can it be that holy God would place his treasure in hands made of flesh that are going to mar its perfection? God is so generous. He is eager to communicate with his beloved children. I receive words, pictures—metaphors for greater truths—because he has designed me to receive them. A prayer begins, head bowed or not, eyes closed or not, I often receive before the asking. I am undone. I am not worthy. How do I respond to this? I immediately hear two words,with gratitude.
I know anything given to me is for the benefit of others. I have long been receiving in intercession for our ministry, Hope Preserved. But as my desire has increased to be faithful to him, I have been releasing what I receive as he directs in my writing. I admit that I’m somewhat fearful. It requires being completely vulnerable to let others see inside of me. And when my flesh taints the releasing, I have to trust his grace covers it all.
I started writing this blog after two years of inactivity. Oh, I was always writing in my journal, but I had let the blog go, believing there was no one reading anyway. This time I had clear direction from the Lord that he wanted me to write for him, and so Little Potted Plant was rebirthed. I sent out emails to folks who had subscribed in the past who I thought might be interested. Mark sent out an email highlighting a post he particularly thought would help those who come to us for ministry. I had very little response.
Discouraged, I went for a walk and talked to the Lord about it. He showed me I was like a beggar with a little tin cup going around to friends, asking them to fill my cup by subscribing to my blog. He asked, Why are you looking elsewhere for your cup to be filled when I am filling it to overflowing with my treasure? And then the question that hit home, Didn’t you say you would write for just the one? “Yes, Lord, I did, and I will.” What if the one is me? I have tears in my eyes as I write this. He was referring to “Audience of One,” a previous post, where he brought that truth home to me.
Recently I met with a precious family member to deliver prophetic pictures and words I had received from the Lord. It was difficult and scary and beautiful and profound all at the same time. It may be my natural wiring to receive these things from the Lord, but it’s not easy for me to release them, especially face to face. Yet in prayer beforehand, the Scripture was given to me from Hebrews 10:38:But my righteous one shall live by faith, and if he shrinks back, my soul has no pleasure in him.
In the parable of the talents (Matthew 25:14-30), Jesus is illustrating the deposit of gifting that is put in each one of us. The one who received two talents received just as much praise as the one who received five because they invested it and got a return on their money. The one who was afraid to do anything with his one talent was harshly judged. We are all given this “treasure,” this gifting that is uniquely fitted for each of us, the way that God has designed us.
We have seasons where we are being filled, but at some point in time, the Lord asks us to release what he has given us. What that looks like is different for all of us. We must accept that we won’t do it perfectly, and that’s okay. But when we also realize that we have the fullness of God in the Holy Spirit backing us, we can do it. And when we do, we find that we are the ones most blessed. It is worth it. He is faithful!
But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. 2 Corinthians 4:7
(First posted in March 2014 before our move to Waco, Texas.)
The number one idol is self. Why do we “lay up treasures where moth and rust destroy and thieves break in and steal” (Matthew 6:19)? Do we really love our stuff that much? I don’t think so. We love the perception that it makes us okay, because if it all disappeared, we would be left with just ourselves, and that is a scary thought. Unconsciously, perhaps, we often see ourselves as valuable because of the lives we have built for ourselves.
I see a stage being set for a play. People are working to put all the props in place as they set the scene and adjust the lighting, sound, etcetera. When everything is ready and it’s time to begin the play, the actors then enter the stage. They deliver their scripted lines before the audience who, if they perform well, give their applause in approval. To a lesser or greater extent, that’s what we do.Much of our lives are spent performing.Without realizing it, we work on our “props” continually: our homes, our jobs, our appearance, even our children. And we feel okay about ourselves when the “audience” approves. These props serve as our self-protection, and when we protect ourselves, we become our own gods.
Jesus told the rich young ruler, “Go, sell all that you have and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me,” (Mark 10:21). He wasn’t making a general statement that everyone should sell everything they own. He was looking into the young man’s heart, and he saw the idolatry. The young man believed he had kept all the commandments from youth (performance), but he still needed his “props” (self-protection), and he wasn’t willing to give them up.
I experienced a lot of change during my years as a widow. I sold the home where I had raised my children and bought a smaller house. Then I moved out of it and into an apartment in the city where I commuted to work. A few months later, I was homesick and moved back home. I sold that house when Mark and I got married and moved in with him. It took some time to make Mark’s home my own. Now after almost four years, every room is decorated and furnished to suit us as a couple. It meets our needs for ministry, for family gatherings, and for grandchildren to come and play. Now the Lord may be asking us to leave it all.
Mark and I are walking a narrow path in the ministry calling God has given us. We are waiting on him for direction as we have to make some huge decisions in the near future, mainly how we are to live as we wait for his promise for provision. We are praying about a less expensive living arrangement and maybe even a geographical move if that’s his will. My questions are “Can I do it joyfully? Will I be okay without all my props?”
Now I see an empty stage. You walk out to give your performance, but there is nothing on the stage–no props, no other actors, no scene. You feel exposed and vulnerable. What are you supposed to do without them? You look at the audience, and you see only one person, Jesus. Instead of giving a performance for him, with one look into his eyes, he fills you completely. It’s you and God alone. As he satisfies your soul and refreshes your spirit, then he sets the stage, all that you need to live out His will for you.
I’ve seen death up close and personal, and I know there are no more opportunities to trust him once we are in the grave. There will be no reason for exercising one’s faith in heaven. Jesus, I can’t make myself ready for such a big change. But I have experienced your faithfulness in the biggest storms of my life. I’ve seen how you’ve gone before me and prepared me. I know you are preparing me now. By your grace and mercy, help me to lay down my idol of self, of making myself okay. I trust you to meet me here. I want only your will. Amen.
“He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain what he cannot lose,” Jim Elliott.
There are moments that exist just as they are, in the present with no other thoughts, no other voices. Just that moment. I had that experience one night when I was babysitting my then eleven-month-old granddaughter, Myla Grace. I had the delightful task of feeding her supper, giving her a bath, and rocking her to sleep with her bottle. Myla Grace is a highly sensitive child. It was months before she would let any of the rest of the family hold her, even her daddy. So it was very special when she started “taking” to her Nana.
In the rocking chair with Myla that night, I softly sang the songs I had sung to my own babies and some of my other grandchildren. She watched me wide-eyed as she sucked on her bottle. I’m not a good singer, but that didn’t matter to Myla. Her eyes grew heavy, and slowly the sucking stopped. As I pulled the bottle out of her mouth, she opened her eyes widely and looked at me, studying my face. And then it happened. I smiled at that precious baby girl, and she broke into a huge smile back. No words, only quiet. Two sets of eyes locked together, two smiles as if a huge secret was being shared. At that moment nothing else existed.
I was deeply impacted by Ann Voskamp’s book, One Thousand Gifts. And I’m naming for the second time around one thousand things I’m thankful for, writing them down in my journal a few at a time, day by day. It used to be that I thought a gratitude list was only for things like family, health, and material provision. Now I understand that it’s being present and noticing all the graces God gives throughout our day-to-day lives. The Word says “In all things give thanks, for this is the will of God for us in Christ Jesus,” I Thessalonians 5:18. In noticing how he shows his love for us, we are loving him back.
Having our eyes open to see God’s graces requires intentionality. It requires the “want to.” It requires slowing downand being present in the moment. If we set our hearts toward Him, the Holy Spirit will open our eyes to the smallest of graces, but it’s up to us to create the space for that to happen. And when we experience those moments, wow! We can be in touch with his love and with the life he has given us. Time really does stand still.
The Word says, “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom,” Psalm 90:12. Wisdom comes from seeing, hearing, touching God. We do that by eucharisteo, by giving thanks. I couldn’t wait to note my moment with Myla in my journal later that night. I’m inviting you to try it! There are no rules and no time limit. It is highly personal. And check out Ann Voskamp’s, One Thousand Gifts Devotional. There are pages in the back for you to make your list. I promise you will be refreshed as you notice more of God’s gifts to you each day.
Thank you, Jesus, for loving us so much. Open our eyes to see your graces, that we may have more and more of these holy moments with you. Amen.
There are baby birds on the feeder outside my window, the momma right below on the ground. Yesterday I saw a momma robin hopping along with a worm in her mouth. I’m seeing a picture, a metaphor. When the baby birds are still helpless in the nest, momma bird brings them food and drops it into their gaping mouths. Then when they are able, they venture out to find food on their own. Two things stand out—when they are in the nest, they must have their mouths wide open in order to receive the nourishment that they need to grow. And when they are strong enough, they must venture out to seek their own food or they will die.
The Word tells us to seek God, that we will find him when we seek him with all of our hearts (Jeremiah 29:13). Before we receive Christ, we are also in a helpless state. Once we have found him and receive him into our hearts, we have to continue seeking him if we want to grow. Jesus speaks in the parables of searching for him as treasure hidden in a field (Matthew 13:44). In every situation of life that I find myself in, I should ask, “Where can I find you in this moment, Lord, and how can I connect with you here?”
In these uneasy days when we’re experiencing a global pandemic and racial unrest across the country because of the horror of a white police officer restraining a black man until he died, all caught on video for the world to see, it’s hard to know how to respond, to know what to do. But it all begins with our intimacy with the Lord, for even Jesus only did what he saw the Father doing (John 5:19). We can talk about it and fret about it and even join protests, but without God, nothing will truly change.
I’m asking the question now, “Where are you in this and how do I align with you, Lord?” What does “Christ in me” look like here? Maybe the world is changed one life at a time. “Change me, Lord, in how I think about this. What do I need to know about myself in this situation in order to receive what I need from you?” And ultimately, “What does love look like here?”
The Word says, “We love because he first loved us” (I John 4:19). It all starts with God. Just like the baby bird will never be able to fly on its own unless it receives what it needs from its momma, we won’t be the light of the world unless we’re willing to humble ourselves and receive from the Lord. Jesus is our model. After he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death on the cross, God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name (Philippians 2:8-9). First comes humility, then comes power. The transforming power of the Holy Spirit is the only thing that will change us.
Jesus, rescue me from my frenetic thoughts and my anxiety and help me to breathe. I want to be changed. I want to connect with you intimately in the sanctuary of your Holy Spirit, where you dwell, “Christ in me.” Teach me your ways. Help me to love as you love. Amen.