(IN)Courage

[Judy Harder]

Not Just Hands And Feet
Oct 20, 2012 01:20 am | Deidra



I went to Haiti and it was beautiful. Haiti is beautiful. Haitians are beautiful. I would have to be blind to come away from Haiti without thinking it is absolutely stunning.

Two days before my trip, I went to Scheel's and bought a pair of Keens for my journey and then I came home and sat on my couch and cried. My shoulders shook and I didn't know it was possible to have so much stuff in my head. I called my husband and I couldn't get any words out except, "I'm going to Haiti," and he rode his bike home in record time.

We went to the grocery store, and to the bank, and we went to dinner, and the tears wouldn't stop running down my cheeks, even though I tried to hold them back.

I went to church on Sunday and they wrote down my name when it was time to pray, and the next day I zipped up my backpack and caught a flight to Haiti. I don't know how we get outside our comfort zone without the prayers of people who love us.

In Haiti, two years after the earthquake that shook Haiti (and much of the rest of the world) to its core, I sat in a makeshift school, on the fringe of Tent City and someone asked the Pastor how the earthquake had broken Haiti. "Haiti was already broken," the Pastor answered. "The earthquake just made it naked."







And later, when I walked tiny walkways where 20,000 people still live between tiny patches of dirt, sectioned off by walls of fabric or cardboard; where all the air smelled like human waste and people call it "Rape City" under their breath; I felt like we're all naked together and how in the world is this going on just two hours off the coast of Florida?




Together, we sat beneath the blue and white stripes of the tent that serves as a place of worship and I didn't recognize the significance until Bret Raymond reminded us the story of the Exodus is a story of a people, immensely loved by God, living in tents between what was and what will be.

We stood with the rest when the music swelled in the heat that smothered. Men and women raised their arms and hands in worship and their voices drowned out the sounds of the generator that hummed to keep the fans running and lights burning. I don't speak Creole, and the French I took in eighth grade hasn't served me well. But I didn't need to know the language to know "How Great Thou Art" right here in the middle of Tent City.





It's been one week since my return, and now I know those tears I cried before I went to Haiti weren't mine alone. Now I know, in the same way we can be the hands and feet of Jesus, we can also share His tears.

I don't know what you've heard about Haiti. I don't know what you've seen, or what you may have thought. But Haiti is beautiful. Haitians are beautiful. I would have to be blind to come away from Haiti without thinking it is absolutely stunning.

I saw Jesus everywhere I looked.






The people of Haiti are strong. They have suffered greatly. They carry tragedy in their hearts and there is no denying it. Denying it would be an insult. But God has His eye on Haiti. God walks the dirt floors there.

In the airport on that final day, Lamar Stockton looked at our weary team, overcome with emotion, and information, and anticipation of what it would be like to live our regular lives now that Haiti had made its way into our pores. Lamar has made this trip before, and he leaned forward and looked right at us all. "Don't be ashamed," he said, "of the house you live in, the food in your refrigerator, the nice things you have. God has you where you are for a reason. Don't take that lightly."

You and I? We have the resources to help at least one.



I went to Haiti with a team of bloggers, writing for Help One Now. Do you know Help One Now? You seriously need to put them on your radar. You need to know Chris Marlow. I don't know how else to tell you other than to say that you should follow him, and pray for him, and cheer for him and for the amazing Help One Now team. I cannot tell you how proud I was to walk the roads of Haiti and watch people hug him and pat his shoulder and look him in the eye and say, "You keep coming back."

There may not be a greater gift than to keep coming back.

Someone else you should know? Mike Rusch, Bret Raymond, and the team at Pure Charity. These men. This organization. Wow. Just, wow. Vision. Passion. Integrity. Humility. Pure Charity joined us in Haiti, and helped to make the trip possible. You know how sometimes you just know you're witnessing greatness? Yes. That is Pure Charity. Follow them. Pray for them. Cheer for them. Open a Pure Charity account. They are the real deal.

Together, Help One Now, Pure Charity, and the the Help One Now bloggers are working on a project that will leave a legacy in Haiti. You'll be able to help, and your help will have a lasting impact in Haiti, for good. We'll tell you more in the weeks ahead. In the meantime, we covet your prayers.

[Judy Harder]

A Sunday Scripture
Oct 21, 2012 12:00 am | incourage




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.

If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me

and the light become night around me,"

even the darkness will not be dark to you;

the night will shine like the day,

for darkness is as light to you.

Psalm 139: 7-12

[Judy Harder]

When I Want To Be Mean
Oct 22, 2012 01:20 am | Lysa




I looked at the text message in complete disbelief. Why couldn't this person see how insensitive and hurtful they were being?

I don't know who made up the saying, "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words can't ever hurt me." Either they had nerves of steel or they lived on a deserted island with no other people. Because not only do words hurt me, but they make me want to fight back and be mean, too.

Have you ever had a little situation with someone where you just knew you were right and they were wrong? Or at least you could make a really good case for your side of things?

Oh how I have this burning need to state my case in these kinds of situations. It's like an inner attorney rises up desperate to defend my rights and get the other person to see things my way. This is pretty normal, right?

Yes. But normal doesn't always mean good. Especially in light of today's key verse.

Colossians 2:6-7 reminds me, "So then, just as you received Christ Jesus as Lord, continue to live in him, rooted and built up in him, strengthened in the faith as you were taught, and overflowing with thankfulness." (NIV 1984)

I should live rooted in Jesus' teaching and overflow with thankfulness. The opposite of this is when I'm rooted in self-centered opinions and overflowing with grumbling. I need to let God show me how to see things from this other person's side and gain a different perspective. In doing so, I will be strengthened and taught.

Colossians 3:12-14 reminds me, "... as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity." (NIV 1984)

My job isn't to fix this person or make them see my side of things. My job is to obey God by offering an extension of the forgiveness I've been given. But I can also stay healthy in this situation by remembering forgiveness doesn't mean giving this person access in my life that sets me up for destructive patterns.

Finally, Colossians 3:17 reminds me, "And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord, giving thanks to God the Father through him." (NIV 1984)

Everything I do and say tells a story of who I serve. If I act out of anger and spite, I give in to the ways of the enemy, spreading his darkness. If I honor the Lord with my actions, I serve to further the Name of Jesus and spread His light.

At the end of the day, honoring God leads to good things. Anything else leads to confusion, emotional exhaustion and a lack of good things.

I processed the text message mentioned above with my husband. He said something that brought much clarity. "Lysa, you know when you've taken the high road, God blesses you. You've seen these blessings over and over as you've made choices that honor God. So choose a blessing today and save yourself the emotional turmoil of trying to prove you're right."

He's a smart man.

I know this isn't easy stuff. I'm having to live it in the midst of feeling hurt. But I'm also feeling more at peace being able to see another perspective—a healthier perspective—a biblical perspective. And I'm really excited about the blessings that are surely coming my way.

By Lysa TerKeurst

Whether right or wrong, learning to control our reactions is sometimes difficult. In Lysa's new book, Unglued, she shares personal experience and scriptural wisdom to help us make healthy decisions with our reactions. Click here to order your copy today!

[Judy Harder]

He Kept Me.
Oct 23, 2012 01:20 am | Annie Downs




I listened to my friend Christy talk last week about how she needed God to pull through for her before she stood and spoke before a crowd of Christian women leaders.

She talked of how she paced her hotel room the night before, begging God to release the words He wanted her to say. She retold of her late night and early morning, all standing right before God and waiting on Him to direct her talk.

With three minutes to go before soundcheck, it was finished. The whole talk, delivered and refined with mere minutes to spare.

"He kept me in the waiting," she said, "so I would depend on Him, not myself."

. . . . .

That phrase – "He kept me in the waiting" – won't leave my head.

If you want me to get real honest, like I'm-glad-you-can't-see-my-face honest, one of the hardest parts about being a single Christian woman is that I know God has the power to change my situation. I know He does. I think if He can part the Red Sea He can lead a boy to like it and put a ring on it.

But for some reason, He keeps me in the waiting.

In Isaiah 30:18, it says that God is waiting too- that He longs to be gracious to us. Beth Moore says, "If God is waiting and longing too, just like you, then it will all be worth waiting for."

I'm trying to believe her.

. . . . .

"He kept me in the waiting."

There's two ways this phrase hits me. The one, mentioned above, makes me think of someone keeping a prisoner in a jail cell or keeping a dog on a leash. To hold back. To keep someone from something is to put your hand square on their chest and say, "stay right here." Usually for their good, I know.

But there's another way to be kept, too.

Like to be kept close, maybe like you keep your baby wrapped tightly in your arms.

When I was hurt, wanting to run away, He held me close. He kept me when He could have let me go. He kept me.

He kept me in the waiting.

He holds me as we wait. He holds me close, so I don't feel alone. We wait, together.

And I am grateful.

. . . . .

He holds me still and he still holds me.

God kept me in the waiting. And while I am waiting, He keeps me.

He holds me back and He holds me close.

He keeps me from running ahead of His plan and His plan is to keep me near to His heart.

It all feels better when I think about Him waiting with me, arms wrapped tightly around me, whispering something in His Father voice about how the wait will be worth it, how He is here, and how He won't let me go.

By Annie Downs // AnnieBlogs








Citizens Of A Place We've Never Been
Oct 23, 2012 01:10 am | Christine Wright




The setting was post-World War II Romania.  The enemy had come to stay and life was a daily struggle of acceptance.  Acceptance of what life had become.  Acceptance of the cup given, certainly not asked for.

Death, destruction, loss.  Words that became part of daily existence.  Despite the tremendous scars, life moved on.

It has a way of doing that, doesn't it?

There, in the midst, was a seventeen year old girl, growing in the post-war bleakness.

My mom.

In the days before the country was locked down, and freedom no longer an option, her father had made many trips across the sea and home again.  In a day when such trips were truly journeys, taken on freight-loaded ships, he traveled to the United States for business.

One such trip would prove to change the route their lives would take.  Clearly led by our all-knowing Creator, he decided to become a citizen of the United States.

It was a life altering decision, not just for them, but for all the generations that would follow.

My mother, knowing she was born to a U.S. citizen and therefore a citizen of the U.S. herself, really had no understanding of the depth of this truth.  It was accepted by her, but she was unable to fully process it.

Having never seen the abundant land that lay beyond her pain, it would be understandable she would doubt.

That would change the day her dad said it was time.

Time to leave the bleak and repressed for a land of possibilities.

They were allowing no one to leave the country, it mattered not a bit if you were a U.S. citizen (it was hard to find anyone to listen to and believe your case even if you were).  Her father had found a way but it had to be fast and she had to go alone.  Despite having no believable proof of her citizenship, God lined up a monumental series of events, and her life changed.

Within days, she would be saying goodbye to her country forever, and on a ship, alone, at 17, headed to a life she didn't know, in a country she knew little of.

Certain of only one thing because her father told her she was a citizen.

There was no time to be afraid.  This was an opportunity.  In that land, at that time, those were rare.

How often are we told about that far off land we're citizens of?

We've never seen heaven, but it sounds nice.  Tough to imagine though, when we're surrounded by the dreary of this world.

I think about my mom and I bet it's a similar feeling.  You want to believe, but really, could it be true?  Like her, we have no proof, no card showing our citizenship.  We have to rely on what is told to us.  On stories we hear.

On what our heart knows to be true.

This is no time for fear for us either.  Every day it seems we come up against something else.  Our landscape can be pretty dark at times, too.  How often do we doubt?

God is moving though.  Many times He stands, ready to change not just your life, but those of the generations after you.

Mark Batterson says it well in his book, In a Pit With a Lion on a Snowy Day,

"The genealogy of blessing always traces back to God-ordained risks."

Could He be readying your opportunity?

It's up to you.

He's waiting for you to believe in your citizenship.

"But our citizenship is in heaven.  And we eagerly await a Savior from there, the Lord Jesus Christ,"  Philippians 3:20 (NIV)





Oct 22, 2012 11:12 am | incourage




Last week, we invited you to ask Jen Hatmaker any questions that you have about her book, 7. She answered several of your questions below!

How have you and your family maintained the habits formed during the course of  "7″? Are there some changes that were just not realistic to maintain, are there others that have stuck and are totally worth committing to?

Great question, and several people asked a version of it. So many 7 habits morphed into lifestyle. Obviously, 7 was done in the spirit of a fast, and a fast is never permanent, but it does pave the way for permanent elements. Food for us has remained reformed. (Except when it isn't.) I shop and buy and cook primarily with whole foods, usually organic. I can never think about food the same. It has been almost three years, and I've barely replaced any clothes I gave away. (Not true for my kids, but we've heavily leaned on hand-me-downs and thrift as they mutantly outgrow everything constantly.) Spending and possessions have been deeply affected by 7; my brain refuses complacency here anymore. It's like a light switched on, and now I can't freaking turn it off. And we are still FULL recyclers, gardeners, composters, Flex-fuelers, and conservers. I am most frustrated with the lack of permanent reforms with media consumption and stress. These two areas slip into entropy so easily. The practice of rest and the discipline of being present remain extremely difficult, and for that I grieve. I even know what to do, but I choose not to. Typing that out is renewing my resolve this very second.

There is a popular speaker that uses great steward principles to get people out of debt and build wealth. Although, he stresses to give once you get to that step, I have been trying to wrap my brain around that concept. I read about how Katie Davis doesn't worry about her 'retirement fund' or Francis Chan talks about how treating his possessions like 'the game of hot potato' and I am trying to wrap my brain out this idea of wealth building. I believe sometimes we (personally) have been called to give sacrificial...Do you have any thoughts on this?

This is a difficult subject, and one that will alienate someone any way I answer it, so I'll just try to be honest and gracious. On one hand, there is simply wisdom in living debt-free, within our means, simply, and with a cushion. I fully affirm these tenets of this approach. On the other hand, I find the hoarding of wealth, "live like no one else now so you can live like no one else later," challenged by the gospel. Jesus told "The Parable of the Rich Fool" about a man who amassed so much surplus, that he tore down his old barns to build bigger ones to hold all the grain he couldn't even consume. He told himself, "Take life easy; eat, drink, and be merry!" (Luke 12). To this, Jesus rebuked his foolishness. With such a global disparity in wealth, I'm not sure the rich hoarding their riches is a prophetic response to the kingdom. Our dollars are powerful; they can help the extremely poor find footing on the bottom rung of the economic ladder. Am I okay turning a blind eye to extreme poverty so my life can be more secure and extravagant than it already is? At the end of my life, what story did God tell with the wealth He entrusted me with? What I cannot do is discern this for anyone else, nor do I want to. I have enough hypocrisy in my own life to address before I can possibly make commentary on anyone else.



As a writer and after your experiences with the adoptions and this recent trip to Haiti is there anything you would add to the book? Or that you would re-instate to your lifestyle?


If I could add to 7 now, I'd add a fast on my complacency. I'm not sure what that would look like exactly, but a structured month on serving, investing in my city, connecting with my neighbors, living on mission with my faith community...this could be powerful. I wish I would've used 7 as a tangible tool to turn outward and serve. Even if it would feel contrived (as much of this did at first), I believe powerful relationships could've been formed. Readers ask me all the time: "Where do I start? What do I do? How can I live on mission?" and 7 could've been a better tool in this regard.



My question is how do you move into daily life, without guilt, but embracing the fast and the feast.

Yes. Great question. My worry that 7 would be a guilt-trip was debilitating. It is simply not true or helpful to mire in condemnation here. I believe discipleship in this area is made up of a thousand little moments. There are small, simple ways to constantly stage a mutiny against our own excesses and greed. Most of these are not giant, earth-shattering choices but rather simple, day-by-day decisions that steadily move us closer to God and His agenda and further from our own. The freedom comes in recognizing: THIS COUNTS. The small victories for the kingdom count. The easy choices for non-consumption count. Following those nudges toward people and justice and conservation and love counts. God is for our liberation here; this is one thing I know for sure. What I've found is that over time, over the course of a thousand small choices, our hearts start changing. It's just crazy how God does that. When I was filming a portion of the 7 study with The Council (available in December), my friend Jenny said, "I'm not sure 7 stuck at all." Then as we started talking on camera, discussing the thousand little moments and looking backward in grand, sweeping fashion, recognizing how far we'd actually come, she said, "Oh my gosh. It did!" Sometimes God changes us while we're barely aware of it. He's so sneaky.



Since doing your '7′ experiment, is there anything now that you just can't personally justify doing or buying? What I mean is, do you refuse to buy bottle water, or shop at large department stores, or buy non-organic food, or put regular gasoline in your suburban, or feed your kids fast food? (Just examples, of course). Have you developed any new "non-negotiables" for your family or personal life, since your 7 experiment?

Great question. Let me extend a little grace to everyone here (including myself): hard-core lines in the sand are sometimes necessary, and sometimes they create bondage. I would say I drew some soft-core lines in the sand, and sometimes life just happens and we eat Chick-Fil-A and Cheetos and buy shoes at Walmart because our six-year-old daughter tells us as we are pulling into a playdate that she didn't put any shoes on and we're 40 minutes from home. My rules are "for the most part." For the most part, we don't buy bottled water or use a bunch of disposable plastic stuff, we have limits around media and try to protect Sunday. We don't shop for sport, which helps us not spend. (Thank you for not asking me about restaurants. Ahem.) Well, we did draw hardcore lines around products we know were made through slave and child labor – chocolate, sugar, coffee, certain brands. For the most part, we try to live with integrity after 7, and when we don't, we dust ourselves off and carry on.



Did you lose anyone along the way? Did you have someone you respected, loved, thought you were in this journey with for the long haul that has decided this type of authentic-ness was too much?

Bless it. I'm sure I have, but I don't know who. Lucky for me, I tricked my best friends into becoming The Council, so the inner circle was tight. We also run in a faith pack that goes against the grain a bit in this department. That said, without question people have distanced themselves from me, or at least from the message of 7. Why wouldn't they? I totally get it. I've gotten plenty of proverbial pats on the head here, good for you and godspeed, bye. Let's be honest, this is difficult material. Who wants to be confronted on excess? The key is walking your own story with grace. If people are put off by their own guilt or defensiveness, that's on them. But if they are offended by our aggressiveness or judgment or presentation, that's on us. We need not be the Holy Spirit in anyone else's life. He's doing a fine job already. But even in a gracious personal response, some people will simply find offense, because the subject is too close, the content too threatening. Staging a mutiny against American indulgence isn't going to win many fans. However, the defectors are out there; you wouldn't believe the response to 7, a little project I ASSURED The Council no one, absolutely no one would want to duplicate. I laughed in their faces when they mentioned it. Point: The Council.



How do you balance purchasing organic / local / made in America items versus the higher cost of those items? We want to be eating and purchasing the quality items but what I spend on them in a month (not even in excess) is what someone in a third world country could live on for a year.

Agreed. I honestly found a balance, because though organic and Fair Trade is more costly, I also quit buying a bunch of other garbage (and some I continue to purchase, because, you know, FOR THE MOST PART). I find "Made in America" not so cost-prohibitive at places like Old Navy and several Target brands. And again, if we buy in equal quantity as we ever have but with high-integrity brands, we might go into the poorhouse. This is where "lower consumption" comes into play. Buy less, buy better.

How do you stay humble or walk in humility? These life steps, heart values, mission statements look different for everyone so how do you stay in relationships with those who have a different set than yours?

Oh my. I walk in humility because I am fully, totally, absolutely aware of how far I have to go. I am under no delusions here. I have readers praising 7 who are light-years ahead of me in obedience and lifestyle. I still struggle and fail constantly in every area. It's all terribly humbling. When I have a reader living on the mission field in Guatemala tell me 7 has convicted her of selfishness, I could crawl under a rock. I am a sister on the same journey, struggling, trying, wanting to do more than I am, praying. This is my honest answer. I do not turn a critical eye outward. How could I? I try to give as much grace as I need, which is enormous. It is certainly helpful that my faith community holds such similar values, so my immediate people are encouraging, not discouraging. I am inspired by my community. I really do understand that God is leading us all uniquely, which is why 7 is not a set of rules or a template. In summary, failure keeps me humble, and evidently I am not in short supply; grace keeps me humble, because I've been given so much; God keeps me humble, because He constantly reminds me that He is God and I'm not and that's the end of that conversation.



How do you live with the push-back from traditional churches/evangelicals/American Cultural Christianity in regards to creation care and social activism (or is this even an issue)? Do you feel any need to "self-censor" within particular segments and fight the good fight silently?

I believe my "self-censor" button is broken. And oh my, do I ever get pushback. Peruse my blog comment feed for a sampling. I receive very little criticism on creation care, which is terribly encouraging and hopeful for the future of evangelical participation here. But in terms of social activism and economic restraint and generosity and calling people upward...no one likes a prophet. I'm no stranger to a cold cup of water poured on many a flame I've lit, even from well-meaning Christians who are basically like GAH, can't you just let it be??? Challenging people with much to lose, including myself, is brutal. I applaud my sisters and brothers who are fighting the good fight quietly, in their own hearts and spaces. This counts and matters. As for me, God has not called me to silence, a decision I've questioned him on numerous times. Sometimes I hate it. Lots of times others hate it. But this is my lot, so I have no choice. God has been gracious to me, for my skin continues to thicken (this from a people pleaser...only He could pull this off). I say the same prayer every morning: "God, help me be brave." On the other hand, the groundswell from believers hungry to defect from the American Dream, bursting to live a bigger story, is so GIANT, that encouragement and strength is renewed for me every single solitary day. So many of us are swimming in the same river. God is doing something monumental, and even to be the tiniest little miniscule part of it is thrilling. Every day, I'm standing on my couch, applauding my sisters and brothers in Christ obeying, sacrificing, moving, giving, sharing, and suffering with those who suffer. I am indeed surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses.

What about your books? Did you purge? Reduce? Leave untouched? I don't WANT to part with any ...

Purged literally hundreds of books. Cried a little. Replaced a bunch. Purged again just this summer. Another hundred. Still buying more. I am wondering if I will simply remain unsanctified in this department. HELP ME, BABY JESUS.

***

We would like to say an extra special THANK YOU to Jen Hatmaker for joining us on Bloom. If you enjoyed participating in this study, would you let her know? You can find Jen at her blog, on Twitter, and Facebook.

[Judy Harder]

Issues with Stuff
Oct 24, 2012 01:20 am | Melissa Michaels




This year I set aside time to reorganize our life at home. We needed to get rid of what we didn't need, pretty up some spaces that felt neglected or underused, and create a pleasant place for our family to recharge.

So often we feel the need to simplify or pare down when stuff is taking over our life. Stuff doesn't matter. Experiences are more important. Family is important. Our relationship with God is important. You can't take your stuff to heaven. All true. What we have around us every day DOES affect us in this life, but it may impact all of us in different ways. Stuff might be a controversial subject, but not all stuff is bad for us.

My last home was a beautiful 4700 English Tudor fixer upper. And while I loved many things about it, like my remodeled kitchen and original plaster walls and wood work, the house itself caused me anxiety, especially when my husband lost his job. The house was too big for us to maintain. Too expensive for us to heat. Too much work for us to do as unskilled DIY'ers with little time for projects. It was beyond our means and it felt like we were one house repair or cold winter away from financial disaster. Too much stuff we couldn't keep up with, so we downsized our house and our stuff by half.

Being surrounded by the wrong stuff can zap our time, energy, resources and focus away from what matters. When we have stuff we don't need, we can get bogged down in reorganizing junk we don't care about, dusting meaningless trinkets and hiding excess in the garage or under the bed because we might want it someday.

When we obsess over stuff we can't afford, we spend too much time worrying about how to get what we want in life or being deprived of what we can't have, and less time on simply caring about others.

Too much of the wrong stuff will stifle our potential and limit our time or energy for service. Less of the wrong stuff can free us up to do more good stuff. Are you still with me? Some people clearly have too much stuff, considering how many in this world have too little.

But does that mean the stuff itself is wrong? Or is it only wrong to surround ourselves with the wrong stuff for the wrong reasons?



The right stuff, stuff with meaning, purpose or intention, stuff we can afford to enjoy or share with others, or stuff that is pleasing or appropriate in our life can energize us. It can refresh us to have the right stuff for the right job for the right life and right reasons. God provides beautiful things for our enjoyment.

Stuff can be good.

Minimal stuff might be some people's thing, it might be what energizes them and frees them to use their life as God intended, just as a pretty well-kept room alive with the right balance of pattern, color, fresh flowers and piles of well-loved books might be my thing.

If you've been addicted to stuff or coveting things you don't have, less will probably be more for you. We need to know our own heart and deal with our stuff in a way that is pleasing to God.

The beautiful things I enjoy having around me aren't my "everything" or an idol, but they do serve a good and worthwhile purpose in this season of our life. Having the right stuff puts a spring in my step and brings a smile to my face, but the wrong stuff consumes me.

Most importantly, a good balance of the right stuff doesn't distract us from what God is doing in or through our life, they are a part of his blessing and plan for us right now. When we have that balance, we feel peace in knowing we are where God wants us for this season and we can be content right there.

I have a really hard time with even the good stuff on Pinterest. I enjoy Pinterest in moderation, but seeing too much stuff on a regular basis drains my own creativity and zaps my energy. Seeing 25 More Ways to Decorate a Pumpkin flashing before my eyes yet again sends me over the edge. I can only handle so much STUFF all the time.

Clearly, I have issues. Too little stuff disappoints my creative eye. Too much stuff I don't need stifles my creative potential, weighs me down and distracts me. I need a carefully chosen and well-balanced diet of the right stuff, and that is what this year has been about for me. Finding that healthy balance so I can invest myself in stuff that really matters.

Do you have issues with stuff? Do you have too much stuff you don't want? The wrong stuff? The right stuff? How does stuff energize or drain you? And how does your stuff impact God's purpose in your life right now, in this season?

How many times did I fit the word stuff into this post? Stuff to ponder.

Join me in my adventures to create a home at The Inspired Room.

[Judy Harder]

Resting Through the Fog That Won't Go Away
Oct 25, 2012 01:20 am | Bonnie Gray




I lay down to sleep at night.

And I don't know what awaits me.

Will it be restful sleep?

Or will it be minutes ticking away that melt into the next hour?

I wake up in the morning.

Is it going to a day filled with energy — to start new beginnings and break off old ways?

Or will the day be one lived in obedience — to faithfully get up and surrender to whatever the next hour brings me?

I don't know what each day will bring.

This is what the journey of faith looks like when you're traveling through the thick of it.

These are the days of walking through the fog of everyday life trials –

when change isn't coming any faster than you'd like it,

when the challenge that's pressing in on you intensifies.

You try to ignore it.  Try to make yourself stronger so it will pass.

But, it's not going away.

This is the fog from which I'm walking through and writing to you today.

The Fog
It's not always talked about, but the faith journey is like walking through a fog, thick as it rolls over the mountains, onto the trail you're hiking through.  Maybe you've driven through the mist at night, as you're looking for that exit — or found it clinging to your windshield early in the dawn, as you begin a long road trip on a cold autumn day.

It happens. When you start out with the most hopeful intentions on a new journey — whether you're looking for an exit from a difficult situation — or maybe just caught in between unexpected changes.

It dawns on you. 

Life is going to be different.  For you. Or your family, friend, or child.

Maybe it's your health, your job, a relationship or a hope deferred.

For me, it's been a mixture of all four.

The fog can do that.  It can suddenly bring thoughts and feelings that you've often wanted to just move through.  Instead, you find yourself returning to questions and circumstances that settle down around your mind and heart, like fragments of tea leaves that circle to the bottom of your cup.  No matter how carefully you sipped or sieved.

And maybe like me, you begin to wonder...

When will this fog lift?

And how long will God let it stay?

Raw
This fog I've been walking through has a peculiar name.

Healing.

It happens when we're willing to honestly look at the truth of what we're experiencing — and give ourselves permission to allow God to enter into it.

To stay there with Him.

Raw. 

As we are.

It's been a very difficult and hard road of healing for me.  Because I want healing to happen on my timetable.

Now.

I read Scripture and remember only the instant miracles.  And I wonder why I can't receive them too.

But old wounds and old memories that have never given me any problems suddenly ignited into real anxieties and current day fears.  It seems so wasteful.  All this time spent going through trauma I had long left behind me.  Why in the world would God choose to bring them up now, when I've gotten along fine all along?

Healing is oh-so-inconvenient.

Honestly, friends.  Don't you think?

But, it turns out when you unlock your dreams and dare your heart to open, our soul isn't a maze of rooms that we can compartmentalize.

Yes, Lord Jesus.  Open up this part of my heart.  This I can share!   No, Lord Jesus.  Keep this other part shut.  Who would want to open that door?!

God's not moving me any faster through the uncertainty.  So like a true engineer, I've been trying to trouble shoot what it is that's keeping God's healing from accelerating in my life.

What is that I'm not doing enough of — or am I doing wrong?

Is there something broken with my faith — or it not enough faith?

I've been looking for answers, but God painted a picture for me instead.

Patches
It happened one morning last weekend, when I least expected an answer.  My son TJ had Sunday School "homework" and I was reading a passage in the Old Testament with him.

I hadn't slept well at all the night before.  And I was surely walking around that morning toasting bagels and pouring milk for the boys in a fog.

As I read the verses in auto-pilot mode, I was taken to a desert, where the people of Israel for sure felt stranded.



"Now on the day that the tabernacle was erected,the cloud covered the tabernacle.

Whenever the cloud was lifted from over the tent, afterward the sons of Israel would then set out;
and in the place where the cloud settled down, there the sons of Israel would camp....

As long as the cloud settled over the tabernacle, they remained camped.
Even when the cloud lingered over the tabernacle for many days, the sons of Israel would keep the LORD'S charge and not set out...

If sometimes the cloud remained from evening until morning, when the cloud was lifted in the morning, they would move out;
or if it remained in the day time and at night, whenever the cloud was lifted, they would set out.

Whether it was two days or a month or a year that the cloud lingered over the tabernacle,
staying above it,
the sons of Israel remained camped and did not set out;
but when it was lifted, they did set out."
Numbers 9:15-22

A cloud.

It kinda looked more like fog to me.

Yes, Bonnie.

I know about the fog.

I'm with you — in this fog.

Then, I knew. Down in my gut, where my stomach drew a breath and my heart started beating, as I took the Bible from TJs hands and told him, "Mommy wants to read this for a minute."

And I read and re-read the passage.  Scanning it line by line.

I understood what God was saying to me, as I saw the cloud over the tabernacle of my heart cover and lift — some times lifting for a moment at night, some times lifting for longer stretches during the day.  Some days are good and some days are very bad.

I am not in control of this fog.

God is.

He alone decides –

how long this fog will stay,

when it will lift,

when it will descend once again.

Healing comes in patches, my friends.  I am understanding this is how God wants me to walk with Jesus.  A patch of fog lifting at a time.  Not knowing how long He's going to have me stay where I'm at.  Not knowing when He'll be calling me to start out again.

My Heart, His Home
Sometimes, God lifts the fog longer than other times.  And on those days, I understand far more than I had in the days before.  And I move.  As long as I keep moving whenever the fog lifts, I am keeping life with Jesus. And on the days the fog lingers, I stay.  This too, is living life with Jesus.

I was greatly comforted — as a smile broke out under my baggy eyes — God's presence has covered this tabernacle residing in my heart.

God's presence is eternally strong, never broken in me, because He's sealed me with His Holy Spirit.

My heart is His home.

I will keep camping, as hard as it is to stay put.  But, I will keep looking out for the patches of fog that lift.  And when it does, whatever steps He shows me — even if it's just one step — I pray for the courage to step out into the unknown.  Even though I am afraid.

This has slowly become my prayer now.  Not that the fog will disappear.  But, I'm asking for the courage and faith to persevere.  Who knows how long this journey will be.  Two days, one week, or (grimace) — could it be — one year?  Honestly, I can't think that far ahead.  I can only take it an hour at a time right now.

As sure as the morning breaks into the noonday sun, this fog will lift.  And each day the moon ascends back into the night, and the coolness brings the fog back, I am trusting — that the God behind these cycles that are turning waves, breaking onto the ocean — He remembers and He loves me.  This is the thought I rest in.  This is the thought that stays.

Stay or Go
Sometimes, God doesn't change the circumstances we find ourselves in, no matter how hard we pray.  God is bringing us out to a new clearing in our lives.  But, to journey there, we are led to a place where only God knows the way out and we are left with new realities — about how we truly feel and the many questions we wish we could dare to ask.

Is God having you stay where you're at right now?

In the moments when the fog lifts, what does He show you — what does He say?

Even if that one step is brief and seemingly simple, as it has been for me –

doing that load of laundry,

taking that walk, even if briefly,

asking a friend to come hang out for an hour,

calling a friend to just catch up and chat,

enjoying a cup of mint tea that's been sitting on the shelf for a while (and squeezing some honey in it),

taking a long, hot bath and playing some jazz on Pandora after the kids are down,

journaling dark one night about that memory that can't seem to subside,

giving yourself a break and letting the kids eat mac and cheese (again),

closing your eyes during worship on Sunday and letting yourself cry just a little inside,

going back home in the afternoon, to clean out a closet, nap or cry a lot in your bed,

hugging your children and tickling them, just because it's fun to cut loose for awhile,

lying quiet in your bed to think back to the time you swam in a lake or sunbaked in the sand,

lying quiet in your bed and letting this day or this night be as good or as hard as it truly has been.

Don't worry about how long you can sustain or continue that one step.

Give yourself permission to walk on this journey of faith, one hour at a time.  One day at a time.

I don't know where the cloud of God's presence has you right now.

But, I want you to know — when the fog just seems to heavy – we are not alone.

We can walk through the fog with each other.

We can walk through the fog with Jesus, friends.

Because He is with us.

Even here.

He is in charge.

We can rest.

~~~~~

"And the Lord said, "My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest."
Then Moses said to the Lord, "If Your presence does not go with us, do not lead us up from here...


The LORD said to Moses, "I will also do this thing of which you have spoken; for you have found favor in My sight and I have known you by name."
Ex. 33: 14-17

~~~~~

How is God calling you to stay or to go — in your journey of faith?

What picture, words or moments is Jesus calling you to rest in — today?

Take a moment to share.  Click to comment.  It's always a soul treat to hear you speak.

~~~~~

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










Daily Crumbs
Oct 25, 2012 01:10 am | Camryn Zamora




All consuming.  Jesus broke bread with His disciples and said, "Do this and remember Me."  It wasn't much earlier that Jesus, in teaching on prayer, said, "Give us this day, our daily bread."

And so I ponder these words and the meaning of a last supper comprised of broken bread.

Perhaps the pondering is derived from a meal I'm about to eat ­– a last meal of sorts.

We set out to do something miraculous – plant a Church in a very messy city.  But God seemed to hedge us out of our own dream.  We left the City we loved, leaving me to wonder – in the midst of this grandeur destination, had I failed to ask for my daily bread.  Did my vision for something wonderful on the horizon, cloud my view of the Wonderful that is ever present.

As I pack boxes with finality, I consider the bread broken over the deep fellowship of 12 lives lived alongside the greatest Dream ever fulfilled.  His words didn't echo a feast that would last for years or even a pantry of preservatives to be saved for a distant future.  No – His request was for something daily; a living provision that sustains for a single day. 

I contemplate the crumbs that I tirelessly swept up as (mess).  How often am I looking for a feast while sweeping up the life-giving sustenance that I allowed to crumble all over my floor?

We go through life in search of a destination, and that destination is sometimes disguised by titles like "God's Work," but the reality is – Jesus chose Mary's intimacy over Martha's scurrying.  He regarded the moment instead of the matter.

Jesus, He is the destination.  Jesus is the moment; He's the daily bread.  The journey begins and ends with Him.  Our lives are to give preference to the walking alongside Him, instead of us chasing after some "thing," in honor of His name.

And sure, the dreams materialize and He gets the glory – but not if we leave behind a trace of bread crumbs.  There is no glory left for Him if we do not consume Him in entirety each and every day.

The church and the ministry, the home and husband, the job and the generous tithing – it means very little to a God so immense that He holds the world together and so charitable that He stoops to feed the sparrow.

We are creatures of the future.  The future savings account, the future job, the future family, the future ministry, the future friends.  We miss today because we are worried by the tomorrows.  Yet the Man of Todays never requested that we ask for tomorrow's portion, but a meal that would feed us for a single day.  This is what keeps us trusting – coming back for more – a single day's allotment.  This is what keeps us in relationship with the Great Provider.

The savings account empties when we are consumed by daily living.  The pulpit hushes when we cry out for a daily taste of His goodness.  The family's pressing need of building a future generation takes a knee when we eat freely of just one day's portion.

My eyes scan the city that left me broken, emptied out.  And I see all the places where I left bread crumbs – my daily portion discarded like trash.

"Do this in remembrance of Me."

Break the bread.  Eat your portion. Daily.

This is the destination.  A daily walk in intimacy with the One Who broke His body and became our Daily Bread.



By Camryn Zamora, The Modern 31 Woman

 

[Judy Harder]

The Myth of the Next House
Oct 26, 2012 01:40 am | The Nester




If an alien came to earth and watched how we use our homes what would they discover from watching us?

Because I'm pretty sure if an alien watched House Hunters on HGTV for a few hours they would deduct that everyone on earth must entertain often, it seems it's all people on that show can talk about.  The go on and on about how they are going to entertain in their next house and how they love having people over and this next house is gonna help them do that.

I've realized something about myself and maybe you do it too.  I seem to always put the burden on my next house.  Because the current house never seems to be ready.  It never seems to be quite good enough. It doesn't seem to have the potential that I'm sure my next house will have.

My next house....? That's where the real living is gonna happen.

Compared to your last house, this is your next house.

This post is part of a 31 Day Series called Home. On Purpose.  See all the posts here.

[Judy Harder]

On Songs of Revelation
Oct 27, 2012 01:20 am | Arianne


It was a late night and all 4 kids were seatbelted in and nearly asleep before we barely began the 20 minute drive home. I knew at least 2, if not more, would be out cold by the time we rolled into our own driveway. I looked through the music playlist to find something that could help those heavy eyelids along a bit further.

"Can you play God songs?" I hear from the backseat.

I smile that happy mama smile that really can't be described and I pick a song. My current favorite. The one my husband and I have been shedding some tears over for a while now.

The notes begin and right away, before a single word is sung, my 8 year old boy whispers to us.

"I really like this one."

How he knows which song it is, I don't know. The words begin to pour out and into me.

Seems like all I could see was the struggle
Haunted by ghosts that lived in my past
Bound up in shackles of all my failures
Wondering how long is this gonna last
Then You look at this prisoner and say to me "son
Stop fighting a fight it's already been won"

My eyes are closed and it's turned into worship and I always have a pain twinge in my heart remembering how long I wish for certain afflictions to end — and then swiftly it's balmed by my remembrance that, truly, the afflictions are not forgotten and they aren't just without end. And He knows. All of it.

It's crazy how a song can give you revelation.

I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off these heavy chains
Wipe away every stain, now I'm not who I used to be
I am redeemed, I'm redeemed

All my life I have been called unworthy
Named by the voice of my shame and regret
But when I hear You whisper, "Child lift up your head"
I remember, oh God, You're not done with me yet

Long ago wounds that have the thickest scar tissue over them seem to soften at the most basic of words that I relate to. I love how God does this work in us.

Because I don't have to be the old man inside of me
'Cause his day is long dead and gone
Because I've got a new name, a new life, I'm not the same
And a hope that will carry me home

I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off these heavy chains
Wipe away every stain, 'cause I'm not who I used to be

I do have a new name. And so do you. And you. And you. Has God told you your new name? I have a feeling it might also be Redeemed. Or Whole. Or Loved. Or Beautiful. Or Victorious.

We pull into the drive as the song ends and we all pause. There's a holy hush in the car, and no, it's not just because 2 kids are snoring and we're trying to keep quiet.

The rest of us are lingering there. In that place with God when He holds you just a bit longer. Please let me never stop lingering.

We finally break and begin gathering our things and go into the house and everyone seems to be in this rare mood of reverence.

I tuck them all into bed.
I start the next song.

Do you have a current life-song that's changing your heart (and home) right now? I'd love to hear about it!

***
Lyrics from "Redeemed" by Big Daddy Weave

By Arianne from To Think Is To Create

[Judy Harder]

A Sunday Scripture
Oct 28, 2012 01:20 am | incourage




"You are the salt of the earth; but if the salt loses its flavor, how shall it be seasoned? It is then good for nothing but to be thrown out and trampled underfoot by men.

"You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven.

Matthew 5: 13-16

[Judy Harder]

Fashion, Make Up, Jesus and Me
Oct 30, 2012 01:20 am | Jennifer Schmidt



As she stretched her arms wide out to her sides, she peered over at me with the reminder, "Now watch me, Mommy. Just watch me."

With her head tilted towards the sky and her tutu arranged just perfectly, she began to twirl. Tentatively, her circle started slowly, but as she embraced the movement, her confidence built. She gazed down, knowing her sequined skirt swished with her, and giggled, "Do I look pretty, Mommy? Do I?"

As I gathered her in my arms, and twirled her around, I melted into the eyes of my precious four year old, fashionista daughter.

She craved beauty. She wanted to know she was beautiful.

"Sweet girl, you are beautiful on the outside, but you know that the beauty that matters most to God is on the inside."

For years, I've prayed that my daughters and I would cultivate inner beauty; that we would radiate the love, joy and kindness that only the Lord can grant. We know that charm is deceitful and beauty is fleeting, yet is there a way to reconcile our desire to don cute new boots and ruby red lipstick with our love for Jesus?

My heart is set on being a woman who whole heartedly pursues the Lord, but as God's girls, are we instructed not to worry about what we wear?

I've dug into the scriptures on this topic, and I can't get past the fact that we were created to enjoy beauty, all kinds of beauty. For me, there are times I even enjoy seemingly trivial things like fashion and make up.

Scripture states we are not to worry about what we will wear, emphasis on "worry." We are not to become engrossed with it. If we are more concerned about the outside, rather than our heart attitude, than we have a problem. Yet I think we have the opportunity to let our outer appearance reflect our inner beauty, and have some fun with fashion, hair and make up.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made just exactly as we are, but do we convey that? Do we carry ourselves in such a way that others would believe that about us?


I'm a sweat shirt and sweat pants kind of girl. I'd be happy to just live in those every lazy day, but as I stay dressed in them, my attitude follows suit. Early in my marriage, I knew I needed to get out of my fashion comfort zone.   About four years ago on my blog, I spontaneously shared about my first Red Carpet experience in which I wore completely designer, but thrifted (second hand) fashion. I was dressed fabulously for under $20, standing right next to women who paid thousands for their outfit, and no one was the wiser. Little did I know there was a yearning from women to learn how to dress stylishly, and do it on a budget.



That birthed the on-going Frugal Fashionista series on my blog. For the first year, I struggled with it. It felt uncomfortable. I hated putting pictures of myself on the blog (and still do.) I tried to understand how the Lord was melding my love for encouraging women with my "always a year behind" fashion prowess, but He was.

As I shared seemingly superficial items on Freshening up Ones Wardrobe,  Learning how to accessorize, or even my weekly Frugal Fashionista outfits, women became more confident. They began having fun with fashion, while dressing modestly and helping out their family's budget at the same time.

As I think through our mission on (in)courage, it's a home for the heart of women.

Does that allow for talking about both our inner and outer appearance? I think it does. In fact, I know it does.

God cares about every little aspect of our whole women, even down to eye shadow tips.

Last month, when some of the (in)courage girls were at the beach, we started talking about our favorite make up brands. When we got home, this note came through our facebook inbox from one of the beach go-ers,

"Totally vapid question: looking to invest in some decent eye make up....should have written down what you all were using at Hilton Head – remind me/make suggestions will you?"

What followed was one of the liveliest thread of comments we have shared in a long time. Every tip, idea, and favorite product was named. A little cheering section even began with some encouragement to try something new for those that didn't really wear much make up. I cracked up when I read this final comment.


"I can't tell you how helpful this whole eye thread was. I didn't even know I wanted help."

Sometimes being with our girlfriends is like that, isn't it?

I love proclaiming Jesus as Lord. Pouring out our hearts and sharing our struggles openly and honestly makes (in)courage an incredibly special place, but sometimes, Jesus loving girls might just need a little chocolate and some good eye make up tips.

I know it's a delicate balance, yet I can't help but think that one of my heroes, Queen Esther, carried on some very similar discussions with her girl friends before she approached the King.

I sure would love to hear your thoughts on the topic.


Or better yet, if you want to continue the thread of comments from our beach discussion, what is your biggest fashion or make up question/tip? We could all learn from each other.

And I think I just might follow this up later over at Balancing Beauty and Bedlam.



Jen, a mini Frugal Fashionista shares at Balancing Beauty and Bedlam, as well as her newly launched food blog, 10 Minute Dinners.











My Chains Aren't Gone (And I Like It That Way)
Oct 30, 2012 01:10 am | Amy




Some days I really just want to be alone.

I love my babies, don't get me wrong; staying at home with my wild and crazy little boys is the delight of my life, and I am glad to do it.

I must be doing a halfway decent job as a mom, because my guys adore me so much that they think they need to be with me every second, even when I go to the bathroom.  But every once in a while, it would it be heaven to be able to use the toilet in peace.

And maybe spend a few moments praying or reading my Bible.

All my life I've been taught that the key to growing as a Christian is to spend time alone with God, praying and meditating on Scripture. In Christian circles we usually refer to this as "quiet time."

I think whoever coined that phrase must not have been a parent. Regardless, I rarely get time alone, quiet or otherwise. And I struggled with that for a long time, feeling like I wasn't doing my duty as a Christian.

One day in particular, I had finally gotten a few moments to myself, and was sitting down beside my bed to read and pray. I had no more opened my Bible than I heard my 10-month-old wailing from his crib. Nap time, apparently, was over. And I started to cry.

"I know I asked you for these boys," I lamented to the Lord, "but now I feel chained to them. How am I supposed to grow in you if I never get a break from being a mom?" For days I was in a funk, convinced that parenting was going to be the ruin of me.

Then one morning, God reminded of a simple truth:

Paul had chains, too.

Do you remember them?

Paul was imprisoned over and over for his tenacious preaching that Jesus was the Messiah. When he was in Rome, awaiting his trial before Caesar, he was watched by members of the praetorian guard, Roman troops assigned to the emperor. But these soldiers didn't just stand outside a holding cell, or keep Paul hostage with a weapon. The guards and prisoners were literally chained together.

So Paul knew what it was like to be constantly with others, never alone for a moment. He would have had every right to complain. But he didn't. Do you know what he said about his chains?

"What has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel.  As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ. And because of my chains, most of the brothers and sisters have become confident in the Lord and dare all the more to proclaim the gospel without fear" (Philippians 1:12-14, emphasis added).

Paul recognized that his chains were an opportunity to serve the Lord. His guardians could not leave, so they were a captive audience for his message of reconciliation to God.

Understanding this has changed my perspective about this season of my life.

I still crave alone time. Adult conversation. Moments away from my boys.

But when I adopt Paul's perspective, the chains become a little easier to bear. My sons are my captive audience. Every day, whether I intend to or not, I am teaching them with my words and my actions.

And at the end of the day, I want to be able to say that "I am in chains for Christ."

By Amy Reasoner, More Than Rubies

Photo by: Steven Depolo