God's Heart for You.

[Judy Harder]

     

(in)courage
   

Do You Have a Life Verse?

 

Many years ago while grieving my failed business, I cried out to God, pouring over the pages in my bible in the middle of the night, looking for answers. My heart ached. I had never before experienced failure in my life.

God spoke to me at 4 a.m. and told me to read, Jeremiah 29:11. I rifled as fast as I could through my Bible until I came upon this passage: "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the LORD, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."

In the midst of my affliction, God heard my cries and answered me just as plain as day. Although it was a dark time I now know that God had something greater planned for my life than my own limited perceptions.

I have carried this verse in my heart and mind since that night and understand that God had given me this verse for my life.

Since that time, I have had many additional dark moments in my life and in ministry. Choosing to serve God is not always easy. We learn through our mistakes and through pain, but if we look closely, God is always on the other side of our pain, holding out His hand.

Oh, how I have clung to the words of Jeremiah 29:11....silently weeping alone in my office at the church while I was being persecuted as a female pastor, the sleepless nights when our daughter was doing missionary work in Tuva  (on the border of Mongolia) and we had no communication with her, in times of turmoil with self-employment, in times of sickness with friends and loved ones, in times of loss, and in times of hope.

This little verse brings me great strength.

Do you have a life verse?

It can be a bible passage that speaks to you, a poem, a prayer, a quote, something that someone spoke to you, something you read, or something God spoke to you in a time of need.

Choose one. Use it. Go back to it. Make it yours.

Make it something that speaks to your heart, your mind, your soul.

Write it.

Pray about it.

Live it.

Another example of a life verse is our daughter, Ashley's: The Beatitudes

Matthew 5:3-10

Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.

Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be filled.

Blessed are those who mourn, for they will be comforted.

Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they will see God.

Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the earth.

Ashley has made the Beatitudes a part of her daily living and tries to live her life in a way that honors this passage. I was actually lucky enough at Christmas to find her a leather bracelet with this entire passage inscribed! How rare is that!

By: Mary, Hope Filled Living

A Haines Home Companion: On Sharing Real Life

22 Sep 2011



At the end of my pregnancy, I quit blogging. In fact I wasn't sure I would ever write in public again. I realized that things would change soon with 4 boys, and one morning I woke up and decided that I wanted to enjoy my life in its precious stage; I wanted to live it and soak it up, and I wanted to keep it like a secret pearl.

There were days I wanted to pour my heart out but couldn't. My body was doing its own creative work in making child, and it left me wordless, in a peaceful writer's block.

Most days I didn't even turn my computer on – rather I lived, and I lived fun, and I lived hard. My girlfriends prayed over me before labor. They put their hands on my skin, and they spoke blessing.

We went to a 7 year old's Civil War birthday party, so we could be with our real-life community. The boys were supposed to enlist with the pretend Confederacy, but then the Union swept in and recruited them. I'm not sure why I felt guilty about the whole thing. But my girlfriend patted my back, knowing I was thinking I'd have to explain myself to my Tennessean daddy.

Then, while one had fifths disease and one had an ear infection, we got lice. I was 37 weeks pregnant, and we had critters. Don't judge me. I called my girlfriends laughing hysterically so I wouldn't cry myself to sleep. We spent 2 weeks dealing with that, and all the while I longed for connection, holding my babies to my huge body and waving at friends as they dropped dinner off at our front door.

I stepped outside for some vitamin D and a girlfriend left this drawing with a mocha and a slice of pie. I smiled at my real life, our tomorrow, the critters finally gone.

Arkansas trees turned crispy in the heat. Labor started then, and it lasted prodromally for weeks.

I sit on the couch of a coffee shop with two close girlfriends every Friday morning, and we cry every single time we meet. They were what I looked forward to, how I felt some days I could come up for air.

Finally my water broke. Then dear ones hovered with fists countering my back labor and fingers wiping my hair back. They said, "You're doing it. You're doing it." Hands of reassurance, in all mustered strength, literally held me up while my eyes went wild to keep from pushing.



Then Titus was born, a gentle one. And as the milk and honey of motherhood settled in, the wave of creativity whooshed in also, and that's when I started writing again, rejoining community here online in full assurance that there is life here, too – but only by way of having lived it offline.

Some of my best friends live across the country from me, and I ache to put my arms around them, but I live in gratitude for the ones that live near me, in(RL), hands that put on the blessings, that stir the soup, hands that draw cartoons that make me laugh, the ones who wipe my brow. You are all Jesus to me.

by Amber Haines of TheRunaMuck

[Judy Harder]

(in)courage
Puddles of Glory

Sep 24 2011

Can we choose how God is glorified?

Come up with the best version of the story that He could plan?

I know, that I know the answers to my heart struggle questions are 'No.' {But I still feel responsible for creating glory for my Lord.}

Glory is defined as "a state of high honor, a brilliant radiant beauty." {I love that God is infinitely beautiful.}

How does God receive glory?

God receives glory from the Son. {John 13:32}
Everything He does reveals His glory and majesty. {Psalm 111:3}
God is worthy of glory because He created all things. {Revelation 4:11}
When every tongue confesses that Jesus Christ is Lord, The Father receives glory.  {Phill 2:11}

Sometimes I think I can see the path to which God would receive the most glory. The best version of the story. My life most comparable to the lives in the Word.

Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it." {John 11:4}

Sometimes I think for my story to look so different, to travel along a path unknown and untold, must mean less glory for my Father.

Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God? – Jesus {John 11:40}

I really don't want 'another way' of how God will receive glory through my life. I would sadly prefer the mediocre version I've crafted. The one that is similar to another's.

What I long for is a story where I don't have to bear deep questions, struggle for direction, or grasp for an easy out that looks like the life of my neighbor.

I've realized I've been trying to plan and over-ride interrupted expectations, desperately seeking to understand how God will be glorified, how my life weaves into His master plan, that I lose ——– lose sight of the moments He has creatively answered my prayers, lose the courage to do the next step, or the worst of all, lose sight of His radiant glory in the uniqueness of my life.

By trying to create glory for my God, I have tried to control Him.

When options or opportunities arise that I don't think would make for a wonder-filled enough story for His sake, I try to look through the moment to find the one I think He really had planned. {This couldn't be it.}

I miss the plan. The one that could soak me to the bone, be painful, hurt, or laugh out loud in astonishment.

I assume it would be better to remain dry, but He knows the rain drops will reveal moments that He and I would never otherwise have shared. He asks me to run through the drops of living water from heaven and enjoy the unexpected puddles.

Therefore I glory in Christ Jesus in my service to God {Romans 15:17} and pray the story He has written for me is one of infinite beauty and honor for Him alone. To live the life that will bring Him glory, the way He had planned all along.

by Stephanie Bryant, co-founder of (in)courage and now Creative Mastermind at S. Bryant Social Marketing.

[Judy Harder]

     

(in)courage
   

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Unbound

Sep 25 2011


I watched her shake her long blond wig from side to side as she approached the table of boys. She had just opened a new "Rapunzel" wig and dress from her Poppy, and despite the fact that we were in a crowded restaurant, decided to climb under the table and change.

She popped back up on the other side with her wig shifted and looking a little crazytown, so I motioned her over and straightened it out.

"Mommy, did you make sure all my brown hair is hiding?" I nod yes.

"And it isn't looking funny?" I nod no.

I smile big because of the way her words sound with her two front teeth missing, when her tongue slips out because it isn't used to a space being there.

"Then I'm going to go dance."

She doesn't get too far from our table but she has her eyes on the boys across the way. She has just turned six, and she's already trying to show off for them. I nudge her to come back over. Tell her it isn't important to impress boys and why don't we focus on talking with the family and enjoying our food.

"But I look so different, mommy. I want them to see."

I make a humming noise, which means I'm waiting for God to drop some knowledge into my mouth before I screw up my children forever. I finish chewing and swallow some pasta, not feeling like this is going to go well.

"Yes, Kate. You do look different. You look like Rapunzel! But you're Kate, honey. And I think Kate is even more beautiful."

She isn't listening. She's trying to slurp spaghetti without getting it on her new dress. It's moderately successful until the meatball falls, which leads to a 5 minute conversation about how I told her not to bother putting her new dress on because it could get messy.

Do you ever feel like they don't listen? I mean, we know what's going to happen here. The wig is going to get tangled, the dress is going to be stained, and she's trying to impress a bunch of middle school boys who haven't even noticed she is in existence.

How ridiculous.

I mean, I would never...

I would rather, well, you know...

"But I want to dance a little father away, Lord."

Then you may, love. But I desire you to stay near to me.

"I look more beautiful this way, Father."

I disagree. In fact I quite prefer you exactly as I intended you to look, no matter the wrinkles or the unruly hair. It's exquisite to me. Every bit of it.

I see what the world wants from me, and I move toward it. I disguise my hair, my heart, my intentions, and anything else that reveals the real me.

And whether or not she gets a glance is insignificant, really. It isn't about them at all.

And so it goes for me.

How many years have I hidden under tables, trying to morph myself into beauty, sneak my way to the place I might matter, only to find myself with a broken heart and a stained dress.

Love, you put that on yourself.

I chose you before the beginning of time, and I see the bits you've hidden so carefully. Disagree if you must, but I believe they are some of your finest...

She comes to my lap, sits, and asks me to take off her very-long, very-new, very-blond wig so she can shake out "the tickles" it's giving her.

I giggle because I understand what it is to feel bound by something I am not, and also what it feels like to be unbound.

And I pray she will come to know the difference.

As it comes off, she smiles. No teeth. Just Kate.

Beautiful, just the way she was made to be.

[Judy Harder]

     

(in)courage
   
September 26 2011

Let's Link Up, Shall We?
The New You: Why Kindergarten Isn't Just For Kids
Hole in Our Fullness
With love to Sara, our Gitzen Girl
Let's Link Up, Shall We?



As I mentioned in my first post, I am really looking forward to hearing your thoughts on fear. So is Jess.

Since I've written the book I have been shocked at how many people around me have mentioned things that hadn't come up before regarding their personal fears. Several said that they worried they would be seen as less than holy if they admitted them, and others just felt like theirs were silly. One woman wrote me a lengthy email about a very specific fear she was dealing with and she thought it was perfectly absurd. The incredible thing was as she processed in the email, she started to remember an incident from her childhood home where she had felt threatened by a similar situation, and really started piecing together memories from there on out. I think she had held it in so long and felt like others might not perceive it the same way she did so she hesitated to share. As a result of making herself vulnerable in community, she started to process it in a new way, and a way I hope the Lord will use to shape her and bring her courage.

I don't think I ever would have done a book like this in book club form if it wasn't in a place where I knew that those who entered in with their own fears would be accepted, cherished, and prayed over. That's what Bloom (in)courage is about.

Last week, we hosted a giveaway and invited you to share a fear.

The comments were overwhelming and incredible (click here to read them).

This week, we want to go a step further.

Will you take some time to blog about a fear that you have? This may be a chance for you to further expound on what you shared in the giveaway comments, or something new. It can be something so small that it seems insignificant, or something you aren't even able to articulate. You can share in as much detail or lack of detail that you feel comfortable with, but know that we are reading your words and asking the Lord to bless you in this specific area in the coming weeks. If you have a few minutes, go ahead and click around and visit with your fellow (in)courage bloom friends, encouraging them as we go.

Know that we don't take this opportunity lightly, and we are convinced that God is going to do powerful things through His word as we go. I am praying that the weight of your fears will lessen over the course of this study, and that you will not feel alone in them anymore. One of Satan's greatest schemes is to convince us that we are the only ones who feel this way...and I for one am through with letting him try to convince me. Ladies, you aren't alone in this.

Settle in for the journey and know we love and appreciate you.

So...today's question is simple. Take some time and let us in on your world by answering-

What are you afraid of?

Please be sure to link directly to your post, not just to your blog in general.

Love,
Angie, Jess and the Bloom (in)courage team





The New You: Why Kindergarten Isn't Just For Kids



When you're unsure about changes ahead and how they will shape a new you, what encourages you to keep going?

You'd think I was serving him his last meal.

"What do you want for breakfast, TJ? ... Anything you want..." I wanted him to be happy.

"Frosted mini-wheats!" hollered my five year old.

No oatmeal for him today, I thought as I scrambled up some eggs to go on the side.

It was TJ's first day of kindergarten.

And I was nervous.


What Was Fazing Me
I didn't expect to be. After all, TJ's had years of preschool. He knows how to raise his hand, sit criss-cross applesauce, and stand in a straight line (sort of).

I wasn't concerned about his ability to learn. The kid's got an ample supply of imagination. The academics will kick in as needed.

I even went to sleep soundly the night before. Back-to-school shopping wasn't so bad. Some glue sticks, Crayola markers, backpack and new socks. Everything was set.

But, I woke up worried.

Getting TJ dressed and ziploc'ing his turkey sandwich in time for the 8 o'clock bell, with two year-old-brother in tow, required a new level of calisthenics. Still, that wasn't fazing me.

One question TJ's been asking me about school was.

What if I can't make new friends, Mommy?


After Our Amens
I gave the textbook answers moms give to their boys — assuring him it was normal to be nervous and reminding him he's made friends wherever he's been.

What if kindergarten is where he first tastes rejection? I wondered silently.

As I tucked him in bed, TJ offered his prayer. He asked God to send him one friend to play with the next day.

After our amens, I felt prompted to add some last words.

I looked into his eyes.

Remember, friendships takes time.

God may answer your prayer — by making you the friend that someone needs.

See if someone looks shy.  Say hi. You never know.


"I like my old school better."

I know, sweetie.

Then, I kissed him goodnight, leaving him with I love you.

Meant To Be Mine Too
When I woke up the next morning with our conversation floating in my head, I turned to Moses' conversation with God in Exodus 33:13-14 –

"If I have found favor in Your sight,
let me know Your ways that I may know You,
so that I may find favor in Your sight...

And He said, "My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest."


Your presence, Lord. That's what I want for TJ. Your presence.

As I read and re-read these verses, along with the chapter, it dawned on me.

This prayer is meant to be mine, too.

Your presence, Lord. This is what I want. Your presence.

I realized TJ and I were standing at our own crossroads of faith.

Seasons of Change
We look back now on kindergarten and life seems simple. But, to a five year old, his world just got a lot bigger. His awareness of his need for friendship and acceptance is growing with each new challenge.

And so, this is true for you and me.  Each of us is standing at our individual doors of kindergarten in faith.

No matter how long we've walked with Jesus, we all encounter new seasons of change.

In the conversation of faith, it may be your turn to answer God.

Is He calling you to step closer to Him, by stepping out of your world of familiar people and places?


When God opens a door to a new you, the time has come to let go and move ahead.

As you point yourself to the unknown, you may sense a greater need for friendship and acceptance.

It's normal to wonder.

Will I make friends?

Will I like the new me?

God looks into our eyes and whispers to each of us, as loving Father to the apple-of-His-eye –


Remember, friendships take time.


I will never leave you or forsake you.

I love you.


Keep going.

I'm right here with you. Every step of the way.

Reach out to a trusted friend and share your fears.

Grab onto the promise that keeps us safe — the promise of God's presence.

No longer alone, we can move ahead.



~~~~~

What new changes is God calling you to take?


Pull up a chair.  I'd love to hear your thoughts.  Click to share a comment.

~~~~~

Written by Bonnie Gray, the Faith Barista, serving up shots of faith for everyday life.



* Lisa Leonard Autumn's Song Necklace Giveaway *
To celebrate the autumn season of faith, Bonnie is hosting a Lisa Leonard Giveaway — Autumn's Song Necklace — on Faith Barista Blog. Click here to enter by Midnight Wednesday 9/28/11.


Hole in Our Fullness

Posted: 26 Sep 2011

Her last breath is breathed and the whisper of heaven hangs heavy in the room. Her face transforms, a smile on her lips as her lungs release oxygen one last time. Perhaps she is looking into the face of Jesus. Her fight is over, her battle won.

Earlier she whispered in desperate tones as she grabbed my shirt tight, "I have to go into the street to fight."

With tears in our eyes we laughed heartily. We stood vigil, watching as her soul slipped from this physical world into eternity.

A quiet calm fills the room as if her soul made a noise that is now silenced this side of forever. The stillness brings peace mingled with grief. Our tears slide down our cheeks and splash upon her sheets. We do not move. Movement seems out of place as this transition between physical life and eternal life takes place.

How do we live when she is still in her bed, her physical body emptied of her essence – her soul? But move we must. We must go about our grieving and our lives now. Our lives forever changed and marked by this woman who is no more here, but is whole there.

Hints of joy cut through the grief. Stories come and memories flood – memories that make us laugh as we grieve our loss. Joy that she is whole in heaven, not suffering in her physical tent. She is home. We long to join her there.

Yet with Paul we remember, "To live is Christ, to die is gain."

Days, weeks, months, years fly by and still her memory is fresh. Grief is not a constant reminder as it was before, but a hole in the fullness. A moment I wish she could enjoy with me, a desire to hear her stories, oh to laugh with her again.

These holes in my fullness only serve to increase my longing for my heavenly home. May the holes in your fullness do the same for you.

by Angela Mackey Rethinking My Thinking

With love to Sara, our Gitzen Girl

Posted: 25 Sep 2011 07:17 AM PDT

A precious friend, writer and beloved member of the (in)courage community, Sara {Gitzen Girl} Frankl went home to be with Jesus last night. We've all watched the valiant race she ran and the unwavering testimony she left behind for her Lord and Savior.

We are humbled by her courage and inspired by her story.



And, in the words of one of her friends, in this place where sorrow and joy stand hand in hand we blow kisses to our sweet Sara knowing, knowing, knowing full well,

"She will enter Zion with singing; everlasting joy will crown her head.  Gladness and joy will overtake her; and sorrow and sighing will flee away."  Isaiah 35:10.

We love you Sara – thank you for the example you set us and the joy you taught us.

We look forward to the day when we will all meet again. We hold onto that hope. And we run with faith behind you.

[Judy Harder]

If You've Ever Been Wounded by Women...
27 Sep 2011

The dark's never bothered me much.

It's women who have scared me.

Women can haunt with shadows of their own.



I don't know what grade I was in when Alexa Richards murmured to Judith Nolan in the back of gym class that the whole school knew I'd likely end up in a loonie bin.

But I know I vowed right then I'd hide from girls; just hide out in the library stacks, a barricade of my own. Safe from Sadie Miller 's remarks about my clothes thrifted from the Sally-Ann, and Lissa Turscott's barbs about being the geek no one would ever want to be friends with, and it's true — no one tells you that the shields you carry to keep you safe, they become the the steel cages that keep you alone.

I never gave the women at university a chance.

I kept the door to Room 411 on the C wing of the French floor closed and locked.

I told the girls down my hall, Melanie with a Chinese mother and Dutch father and who'd grown up in England, and Cyndi with her Portuguese parents and her boyfriend who had won the lottery and Yamila from Uruguay whose father was an international diplomat, I just told all of them  that an open door made it too hard to study.

Truth was, I thought an open door made it too easy for someone to shoot an arrow through my hard and quaking heart.

They always knocked and asked if I wanted anything at the cafeteria. They always made sure I never walked alone in the dark across campus to the library. They had always tried. They had always smiled.

Every single one of those women made the trip to the farm to be at my wedding. They came together and early, to help decorate the tent in the backyard with white begonias and double impatiens.

Why hadn't I been patient with friendship?

Why had I let the past rob me of the present's possibility?


Why hadn't I seen that the price of being safe — is the cost of being solitary?

Why hadn't I seen that distrust can destroy a life?




Weeks ago, after we've had pie together and laughed the dark away under stars, I stand in a doorway late at night, in a house full of (in)courage writers.

One of the women asks me quiet: "Has it really been okay?  –  I mean, for you to be here?"

And in a house full of women, the words come in the dark and what haunts can be cast out, and these words are truth:

"God has used you, all of you, so many women, to heal me."



I have witnessed it — women holding Sara right there in Skype and carrying her out to see the sea.

I have heard it, women asking across tables about dreams and listening long to really hear and I heard women do it — how they helped unfold wings and smoothed the crumpled and timid out with prayer and how they waited to hear the flight.

I have felt it — how no one wants anything of anyone but to be honest and real and to trust enough to take off the mask.

You breathe different in a room when you know it's not about the good you can accomplish but about the grace you can accept.

Because really — in a refuge of grace, who has anything to prove or protect?

In the hands of grace — who has anything to hide?

In the space of grace — who needs to live for something — when they can live with someone?

When we breathe in grace, we finally believe we can be real –  and only then can we begin to be changed into the realest versions of Holy Grace Himself.

It's in a sanctuary of grace, relationships near extinction can revive.



On Saturday, Sara crossed her Red Sea to the Promised Land.

And this morning two (in)courage writers fly, carrying us all with them this morning to the edge of eternity and the celebration of Sara's life.

Friendship is all that will show up at our funerals. Who can bear living the whole of their lives and never learn what it means to really be a friend?

I long to learn.


She loved. They will say that at Sara's funeral. But she loved, but she loved, but she loved.

Is there more to make with a life?

I have felt it these days too, straight across me: Women, they can cast long shadows of their own— the lengthening of a love that picks up the phone, that writes a card, that lavishes patient grace on an old ache...

These women casting shadows that lengthen into the faithfulness of a cross, the dark all up and fleeing...

::

::

::

~ Ann Voskamp

Related Post with audio: What it takes to Join the Real Sisterhood of Women


Q4U:

How do you hurt? How can a community of women heal you? How are you learning to be a real friend? How can you make friendship In Real Life happen? Click here: we warmly welcome you to join the conversation...

[Judy Harder]

     

(in)courage
   
I'll Be the One with the Greasy Hair

  Sep 28 2011

Seventeen years ago, I pressed my forehead against my front door window while tears quietly slipped down my cheeks.

I watched my husband pull out of the driveway and head off to another day at work.  I then turned to look at what my day would hold- a crying baby, a messy house, and an overwhelming feeling of dread.  How could this be?

I finally had everything I ever thought would make me happy, fulfilled, significant, and satisfied, yet I was more miserable than I'd ever been.

Finally realizing a great husband, healthy baby, and a comfortable house with a flower bed planted out front all make for very poor gods rattled my soul to the core.

My whole life had been designed around getting these things that would finally fill me up.  When they fell short, I slid to the ground and cried, "God, I can't do this.  Where do I go from here?  How do I find you?  Help me!"

A few weeks later, my husband called and said there was a woman in his restaurant who wanted to meet me.  I glanced down at my spit covered sweatpants, ran my hands through my greasy hair, and willed my mind to override the desire to pass on meeting her today.

I couldn't handle the relationships I had in my life, I certainly couldn't make time for more.  Plus, if I got too close to women who appeared to have their lives together, they'd judge me for the pitiful way mine was falling apart.  No, my role was to give everything I had to my family.

But that was exactly the problem.  I was giving everything I had to my family with nothing to fill me back up- no one to encourage me past the hard spots- and no one to share practical advice because she'd been there, done that.

So, I crammed my diaper bag full and headed out the door.

Over the years, I've thought about that pivotal decision to pursue and embrace the necessity of friendships. Not only have they helped me personally, my friendships have been crucial in my roles as wife and mom as well. What I once thought would take away from my family, has proven to add a richness I couldn't have gotten any other way.

Here are some practical ways friendships can help us:

Find a friend who does something well that you wish you could be better at.  It may be cooking, managing paper piles, organizing kid's rooms, effectively disciplining her kids, or a hundred other things.  Whatever it is, ask her if you could spend time observing how she does what she does so well. Women love to talk about things they do well.
Choose a friend with whom you feel comfortable to pray. There is no better gift we can give our family then to be a wife and mom who prays.  Praying with a friend about our families will not only knit our heart closer to the ones we love, but to that friend as well.
Pursue a friendship with someone who is one stage behind where you are in life. Offer them practical help in their area of stress and weave in the wisdom you gained as you went through that same stage.
Why not spend some time today praying for the friends you have and the friends you've yet to meet.

And sweet sister, if the topic of friendships is a painful one for you, I encourage you to spend some time today reading God's word and asking Him to help you know what steps to take.  Really ask Him. Pour out your honest feelings, hurts, desires, and dreams.  God loves to answer those friendship prayers in His time and in His way.

Now trust me on this, go ahead and wash your hair, just in case you get a call today like I did all those years ago.

And if you haven't signed up for the (in)courage (in) real life meetups, you must!  Click here for more info.

By Lysa TerKeurst

His Faithfulness

Sep 28 2011

Never was our family holiday more needed nor the timing seemingly more inappropriate. For months we had looked forward to our family beach holiday.

As our holiday drew tantalizingly close, we were struck by the bombshell of my father-in-law's diagnosis of a relapse of leukemia.  If it's possible, this news was even more of a shock than the first diagnosis, a year to the day earlier.

Bruce battled leukemia so valiantly the first time around, through four months of chemotherapy, and five months of a grueling stem cell transplant. Having laid close to death, he had fought heroically and won the battle! Remission.  Such a sweet-tasting word after a brutally hard slog.

Bruce spent a further two months regaining his strength and had just returned to work for three weeks when this latest bombshell knocked the wind from us.  The leukemia was back with vengeance, and this time in his cerebro-spinal fluid. Immediate chemo was required to relieve the pressure in his brain, and yet there was no hope this time of recovery.

Judy moved in with us to be closer to the hospital. Our greatly anticipated holiday loomed with 10 days to go, and the overwhelming feeling that this was no time to lark and giggle in sunshine and surf.

Happiness, our fair-weather friend, was nowhere to be found.

Judy, in her kindness, insisted we holiday still, and as it happened Bruce was able to have a few days leave from hospital during that week. Our house, being close to the hospital and uncharacteristically quiet, made it possible for him to have respite with Judy.

Our beach-front unit was constantly filled with sound of crashing waves, and the refreshing ocean-breeze, slapping sea-spray on our faces each time we walked out on the balcony. We spent many hours on that balcony, reading, talking, eating, playing boardgames.  We spent many hours on the beach too, body boarding in the surf, building sandcastles, climbing over rocks and walking along the boardwalk.

We had a wonderful holiday, but happiness remained fickle, here some moments, gone the next as our thoughts drifted back to Bruce. The only constancy was the crashing waves, ever-pounding, ever-present, in the early dawn, the midday sunshine, the coolness of dusk. And still it pounded in the black of night, when all that could be seen was the moonlight reflecting in the white foam at the waves' far-reaches.

A few of our days were grey, dreary, and scattered with showers.  These were miserable days when even the weather seemed to have sympathy with our sorrow for Bruce. Something in me expected the waves to quieten down too; to join the heavy hearts, to register change.  And yet the waves took no notice. Onward they crashed, wave after wave, endless energy, a perpetual rhythm proclaiming a great constancy.

And the Lord whispered to my heart about his faithfulness.

His faithfulness is constant like those waves. Not for a moment does His faithfulness to us waver.  Not for a moment is it uncertain. His faithfulness is just like that perpetual rhythm of the pounding water, showing itself over and over, declaring His covenant again and again.

Never does His faithfulness hesitate. Never does it falter. And nor is it simply a reflection of our circumstances. Rain or sunshine, daylight or the darkness of night, inward-coming or outward going tides, even wind-direction does not halter the crashing waves.  They crash always and even-still.



And God assured me that His faithfulness is not like happiness, which delights in my company and flatters me when all is wonderful, but quickly disappears as my circumstances sour.

His faithfulness was established before time, in Heaven itself (Psalms 89:2) and his Love stands firm forever.  He is a mighty God, whose faithfulness surrounds him (v8). Imagine it like a cloud of sea-spray that surrounds those ever-crashing waves.

Breathe in His faithfulness.

Even now, 18 months later, and some 14 months after Bruce has passed away, I know that the constancy of God's faithfulness is forever the air that I need to breathe.  There is refreshment and hope in his faithfulness.

by Emma Leitch, a total Monet

[Judy Harder]

If We Build it, They Will Come

Sep  29 2011


For months, a post percolated at my keyboard.

Night after night, I'd ponder its context, attempting to formulate the deep seeded emotions in my mind. Draft after draft written and trashed. I scratched at my heart of loneliness, attempting to dig into this extrovert's new battle with an unknown territory.

My loneliness crept subtly, attacking in varying forms, and I was unprepared for the slew of feelings it brought with it. As an introspective person, I asked the hard questions of why this uncharted emotion became more prevalent during the past few months.

Are hormones in play? (Yes, as women, a very real possibility.) Have I emotionally isolated myself due to over commitment? Is it a situational factor? Am I turning to individuals to fill my emotional tank rather than meditating on God's promises?

As I narrowed down key influencers, what startled me were the overwhelming fingers that point towards the blogosphere.

Spending portions of time on-line each day opens up a mind field for Satan's attacks, and unless I ward those off immediately, it's a slippery slope of sinful thinking that permeates my thoughts. The trap of comparison, knowing I'm "missing out" when others are together, not quite measuring up, and wondering why I can't balance my time management skills like others were just a few missiles I countered on a regular basis. Even though I have met some of my closest friends on-line, I determined the need to stop reading other blogs for a season because those areas attacking closest hit through on-line venues, not in real life.

Honestly, I can be surrounded by an amazing group of dreamers – (in)courage writers who inspire me regularly to dream big dreams for the Lord, yet still wrestle with those feelings in an even more pronounced manner. How is it possible to be in a large group and still feel lonely?  In those moments, I turn my eyes to the Savior,  reminding myself of how He sees me; collectively gathering His arms to hold me tight.

My original post, titled, "If We Build It, They Will Come," dove a bit deeper and then practically addressed how I dealt with some of those feelings – by inviting others to share life together.  Yet I need to pause on posting that right now.  As I re-read it, knowing it would be viewed on the very day of our Sweet Sara's memorial service, it felt so raw – so unworthy of sharing space on loneliness. I haven't begun to scratch the surface on that topic like Gitzen Girl did. She choose joy and brought her precious life on-line when her  isolation wasn't by choice. Her life showered a living example of taking full possession of the abundant life that the Lord offers. She ward off deteriorating emotions, and for me, her life affirming testimony puts so much into perspective.

Right now,  my home echoes from energetic children, the phone rings incessantly, and I prepare for tomorrow's meeting of  home schooled families that I organize.

Loneliness, in this moment, would be an unnecessary choice and now I choose to savor the chaos.

Have you battled with loneliness lately? Are there key influences that you can pinpoint and name? I'd love to pray with you.

John 14:1 – Do not let your hearts be troubled. Trust in God; trust also in me.
Hebrews 13:5 – Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, "Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you."
Matthew 28:20 – and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age."
Psalm 147:3 – He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

Jen shares her attempt at Balancing Beauty and Bedlam, and invites you to join in at any time.

[Judy Harder]

What Women Fear Resources
When You're Not Sure How To Build Near And Dear Relationships
He Loves Me!
What Women Fear Resources

Sep 30 2011

We have two fun resources to share with you before we kick off the study next week:

1. What Women Fear App


My publisher created this app recently and I hope you find it useful as we go through the book. I have gotten some really cool feedback on it and I hope you enjoy it too. It makes it easy to share quotes from the book and see sample chapters etc...

And the best part?!?!?! TOTALLY FREE

In order to download it, just click here and get going!!!

2. What Women Fear Bloom Buttons

If you have a blog, would you consider grabbing the code for one of these buttons and posting them to your site? It would help spread the word about this community and encourage others to evaluate and face their fears.

We are grateful for Bloom and look forward to beginning this study together on Monday.

Love,

Ang and Jess

When You're Not Sure How To Build Near And Dear Relationships

29 Sep 2011

I grew up with comfortable familiarity wrapped around me like wide-blue skies around my Oklahoma prairies. My last name of O'Neill put me right at home on my country lane, literally named O'Neill Lane. In the very real sense, my neighbors equaled family. For my entire growing-up years, I went to school in the same smallish town followed by college only forty miles away. Not once did I have to work to meet people; family and friends were always there.

That is, until a good lookin' Air Force man won my heart, put a ring on my finger, and took me from Oklahoma to the moon.

OK, it was Ohio. But to me? It could have been the moon. I didn't know a soul and had to figure out how to build friendships without the crutch of a shared history. How do I get to know people – let alone form relationships with them – and be a part of their community? When the scariness of putting myself out there overwhelms me? When it seems like so much work?

May I share some things I learned {mostly the hard way}?

First Steps to Building Near and Dear Relationships
Fake it 'til you feel it. I don't recommend this for every life circumstance, but here it works. When I am in a new situation or with new people, I don't always feel like putting myself out there to meet others. Whether sticking to those I already know or plopping my alone, cross-armed self down in a corner chair, sometimes I'd rather rest in the comfortable, thank you very much. Feelings trick and manipulate, so occasionally I need to act my way into feeling how I want rather than waiting for the feeling to show up first.

Make the first move. Your Mama may have said this is bad advice for dating, but it's good advice for meeting new gal pals. As the Holy Spirit nudges, I intentionally walk up to others, stick out my hand, and smile saying, "Hi! I'm Kristen! It's so nice to meet you!" It breaks the ice and relaxes the other person. I've done the whole I'm-gonna-sulk-'til-someone-sees-I'm-alone thing, and it comes across as selfish and un-inviting.
Talk about her. Asking a new acquaintance questions about herself often calms and de-stresses the environment. Some possible questions include:
"Where are you from originally?"

"Where do you like to travel?"

"What do you like to do for fun?"

It may sound forced right here, but her answers give clues for follow-up questions. Before long, conversation flows easily and naturally. Also, arming myself with this mental list helps me practice being a good listener.

Sisters, if putting these ideas into practice gives you jitters but you know  your life is missing close by friendships, may I take your hand and {sweet} talk you into attending an (in)RL meet up? And if there isn't one in your area, perhaps you can make the first move by opening your heart to host one? Maybe local gals could meet in your home, your church, or your neighborhood Starbucks. Any place is the perfect place to dip your toes in the sand, get your feet wet, and embrace new friendships beach house style!

God wants to use our lives to impact eternity, and building close by, present relationships does this. While I can't guarantee these first steps will lead to near and dear relationships every time, I can guarantee doing nothing won't. As I live Christ by opening the door to my heart and inviting Him in, I possess the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love to give others, to invite them into my heart. And in God's economy, the more I give, the more I get. I then see how good-for-the-heart gathering blesses me most of all!

What (in)couragement can you offer to those needing first-step help in building near and dear relationships?

By Kristen Strong, Chasing Blue Skies

He Loves Me!

30 Sep 2011


The daisies are scattered in the fields, their yellow faces laughing in the last days of summer.  They dance in the breeze.  They shine in the sun.  They dare me to play that old, familiar game–"He loves me, He loves me not."

I remember this game.  As a child, I would sit on a rock in the garden, plucking the petals one by one, trying to tease out some future romantic fiction.  It is a little girl's dream.  To be lovely.  To be loved.

And one day, I did know love.  Love from the Father, pure and true.  Love for me, the unlovely.  Love from the Son framed on crude bars of mercy.  Love that held Him there.  Love from the Spirit, who works His will in me, keeping me close to His heart.

So why, then, do I sometimes live my life in the way of daisy petals?  I struggle to understand this great love.  I think that my good performance brings His favor, and that my "mess-ups" bring His frown.  He loves me, He loves me not. In my head, I understand justification and "alien righteousness."  In my heart, I wonder if I'm measuring up.

And the truth is, of course, that I don't measure up.  There is only One who does, whose life was perfectly plumbed against the straight edge of the law. And He gives me His faultless standing.

So I find myself repenting . . . daily asking Him to pull me from the teeth of the performance trap and to help me live in the good of His grace.  He asks me a pointed question:  "Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?" (Galatians 3: 3)  And He reminds me that I am chosen, holy and dearly loved (Colossians 3:12).

Soon the long shadows of summer will lean into autumn.  The daisies will yield to October's frost.  But I'm thankful for the "now," when these happy flowers tell me of a glorious and unyielding truth:  He loves me!

By Julie Ruegsegger @ tracing grace

[Judy Harder]

     

(in)courage
   

Speak life

October 1 2011

"You is kind. You is smart. You is important."
~ Aibileen to Mae Mobley Leefolt in Kathryn Stockett's novel The Help.



When I was a little girl, no matter how many times grown-ups tried to convince me otherwise, my heart told me it was a lie–

Sticks and stones may break your bones
But words will never hurt you.

Mean words hurt me to the core, and when I look at how angry and evil the tongue is characterized in scripture, is it any wonder?
It belongs to a lion, a ravenous beast; it is sharp sword (Psalm 54:4)
It's a conduit of lies (Psalm 78:36)
It can be serpent-sharp and poisonous (Psalm 140:3)
It's capable of crushing your spirit (Proverbs 15:4)
It has the power of life and death (Proverbs 18:21)
It corrupts the whole body (James 3:6)
Almost as hurtful are words withheld; the assurances and encouragement we long to hear...need to hear.
A 35-year-old friend confides through tears the pain of a father who never said "I love you."
Friends who, because of envy or insecurity, can't (won't?) celebrate your successes...or who, if they do, with backhanded compliment.
The student who needs his teacher to notice how hard he's trying.
The husband who's desperate to be affirmed at home because work and responsibility is bearing down.
The wife who's desperate to be affirmed at home, because she made choices that required sacrifice and does anyone even recognize what it takes to manage house and children?
When you've wronged and you're truly sorry, repentent, and "I forgive you" is the only thing that will release you from guilt's bondage.
The capacity for words to harm or heal resonated with me in Kathryn Stockett's The Help; the novel first, and then again in the movie adaptation.  Threading together the lead characters' stories, words showered life and love, death and defeat, healing and redemption.

One of the most lingering images from book and screen is that of maid Aibileen Clark speaking life into little Mae Mobley, the daughter often neglected or ignored by her mother, Elizabeth Leefolt.  "You is kind. You is smart. You is important." Aibileen tells her over and over, words she knew Mae Mobley wouldn't hear otherwise...and words for which she was starving herself.

Aibileen knew the words Mae Mobley was hearing were heart-hurtful...and she knew the words she wasn't hearing were equally damaging.

Again, sifting through scripture, positive truths about words and the tongue–

The mouth is a fountain of life (Proverbs 10:11)
Words encourage (1 Thessalonians 4:18)
Words are edifying (Ephesians 4:29)
The tongue rejoices (Acts 2:26)
Words teach (Proverbs 31:26)
The tongue can soothe & give life (Proverbs 15:4)
Expresses laughter and joy (Psalm 126:2)
Praises God (Psalm 66:17)
The tongue is the pen of a skillful writer (Psalm 45:1)
I know I've spoken about the power of written words in this space before (along with several other incourage writers), but today might I encourage you to speak life, love, affirmation, truth or forgiveness into the life of another?  Something they're desperate to hear?  Or I'd love to hear how someone has made a difference in your life with their words; in wounding, that we might pray, or in healing that we might celebrate.

By Robin Dance, PENSIEVE

[Judy Harder]

(in)courage
   

A Sunday Scripture

02 Oct 2011


Praise the LORD.

Praise the LORD, you his servants;
praise the name of the LORD.
Let the name of the LORD be praised,
both now and forevermore.
From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets,
the name of the LORD is to be praised.

~Psalm 113: 1-3

Joining you all today as we pause to praise the Lord on this day of rest.