(IN)Courage

[Judy Harder]

Social Media And Sweaterdresses
Jan 03, 2013 12:20 am | Kristen Strong




We sit starched and sparkly in what my grandma would call proper church clothes: Button down shirt and ties for the boys, dresses with tights and boots for the girls. David, the kids and I are headed to a formal concert, and we have dressed the part well.

In the car on the way to the performance hall, I review appropriate concert behavior. No talking during the performance. No clapping until each piece concludes. No asking for bathroom breaks 'til intermission. My tween kids know this, but I figure it doesn't hurt to remind them how their manners should reflect kindness and respect to the musicians and others in attendance.

The concert saw both music and children in excellent form. Intermission arrived, so all three kids and myself used the restroom. And that's when I lost all credibility to lecture on good manners as I proceeded to exit the bathroom with my sweaterdress tucked up inside my tights.

Awesome and classy, that's me.

While my sanguine personality and I can easily laugh about it, my face still gets a little hot remembering. It was funny, but the looks I received had me regretting the decision to use the restroom in the first place.

Social media sometimes feels the same way. For example, I kindly and respectfully try to engage someone else in a conversation, but they don't respond. I post something {I find} witty or funny, and the response is Cricketville. While I have pure intentions in posting updates or tweets, I sit embarrassed when I get no response. I wonder if I walked into the "room" with my dress caught up in my tights by saying something ridiculous or unintelligent after all. 

I wonder if it might not just be me?

When we start to feel this way, it can only mean one thing:

It's time to step away from the social media and step towards a healthy perspective.

1. Remember the social media room is crowded and loud. Recently, I attended a large party at a friend's stunning, spacious home. While I waved and said hello to several folks and chatted with a few, many people I never spoke one word to. Many people I didn't even see. The social media room is like this, but it's endlessly big with new people walking in and out all the time. There's no way everyone in the room is going to talk to – much less connect with – everyone else.

2. Remember we give to give, not to get. When we leave a thoughtful comment or message, it is a present we place in the hands of the person. We give the gift and move on. Maybe they'll say thank you out loud, maybe only in their heart. Either way, we don't stand around, tap our foot, and demand a response. Nobody owes us anything.

3. Remember why you're important. You have worth because you have fullness in Christ, not because of so-and-so's interaction and friendship. Put your hope in Him, not them. He is the only One who fills to overflowing and fully gets who you are.

I cherish online friendships, especially the ones that meander into real life. But even a relationship lover like me admits I can't have one with every person that crosses my path. Neither can you. We all have families to prioritize. We have jobs to do, laundry to wash, words to read, toilets to scrub, walks to take, skies to watch. If we are meant to interact with someone on a deeper level, God will see that it happens.

In the meantime, when the chatter gets loud and you get lonely, step away from the social media. Write offline or read in a corner. Kiss faces. Wrap arms. Snuggle up. Love hard.

And when we do our thing online, let's not get caught up in what others do or don't do as it relates to us. Give a message with a smile, grateful for the opportunity to encourage. If your heart reflects kindness and respect to other folks, there is no need to dwell on your one-way conversation.

Not even if your sweaterdress is tucked up in your tights.

When it comes to social media, what helps you to keep a healthy perspective?

Kristen Strong, Chasing Blue Skies

[Judy Harder]

The Challenge Not to Overcommit
Jan 04, 2013 12:20 am | Jessica Turner




It's a new year and all I can think about is creating margin in 2013.

In fact, margin is my one little word for this year.

I have talked about my need for margin before.

It is something I constantly struggle with in my life. I'm a person that likes to say yes and fill my calendar with lots of activities.

And while they are all good things – lunches with friends, date nights, concerts, kids' activities – that doesn't negate that sometimes they are simply too. much.

Last month I was really excited to go to a Friday night scrapbooking event. It was my first one in three years. I knew it was going to be busy being the Christmas season, but I had to go.

When that week came, we had something going on every night.

And by Thursday I was spent.

Going to another activity was the last thing I wanted to do.

So I didn't go.

As soon as I decided not to go I felt a wave of peace wash over me.

It was incredible. I wondered, why do I do this to myself?

Why do we as Americans do this to ourselves?

We run ourselves ragged, hardly able to savor life because we are so exhausted.

And so this year, I am challenging myself not to overcommit myself, and prioritize quiet days and nights in our family's calendar.

There is freedom in saying no.

In doing less.

In taking time to be quieter and more intentional.

Do you struggle with committing to do more than you should? How has this struggle impacted your life?

[Judy Harder]

Worshiping Like a Child
Jan 05, 2013 12:20 am | Mary Carver




"Join me in raising your hands as we worship the Lord."

My eyes darted from one corner of the room to another and then back to my own table. Wondering if I was the only one feeling an increased heartbeat and slight shortness of breath, I nervously freed my hands from my pockets. Is everyone really going to raise their hands?

****************

Every time I'm in a worship service and the song leader suggests we raise our hands in praise (or surrender or acceptance or whatever the virtue of the day may be), I cringe. I get a little sweaty and my mind starts racing.

What is wrong with you? Why can't you raise your hands?
I know. I should raise my hands. I want to. I do. But...
What if I look weird? What if they notice?
It's just not like me. I'm not a raise-your-hands kind of girl.
You mean you're not a praise-the-Lord kind of girl?
Just. Raise. Your. Hands.
Ahhh! It's not a big deal, but it feels like a big deal!
Isn't it enough to tap my foot?
Is this song ever going to – oh, good, it's over now.

Every time.

Now, I know people worship in many different ways. And I'm pretty sure God is just fine with that. After all, He's the one who created us all so differently. I'm talkative and fairly outgoing, but I'm also what some have called uptight and repressed. (I prefer to say I hold my cards close to my vest, but toe-may-toe, toe-mah-toe.) Either way, I don't typically let my big, important feelings show on the outside – and that includes my deep love and adoration of my Lord.

The product of a small-town, hymn-singing traditional church, it never even occurred to me to raise my hands during worship until I witnessed my friends doing just that in college. In fact, closing my eyes while belting out my favorite songs was as expressive as I got back then – and even that felt out of place.

One Sunday I remember the pastor asking us to sing Amazing Grace. I flipped open my hymnal and promptly shut my eyes and began to sing. When we got to a verse I wasn't familiar with, I opened my eyes, looked down at my hymnal and realized I was on the wrong page. My friend's mom was standing next to me, and when she whispered the correct page number, I felt my face burn with embarrassment. Who closes their eyes at church? That's so weird! Why was I doing that?

I realize now that I was likely the only person who noticed or cared how I worshiped at my hometown church, just like I doubt anyone today is really paying attention to whether or not I raise my hands or clap or tap my foot during worship. Still, I've remained afraid of looking weird or wrong during worship all these years.

****************

"Join me in raising your hands as we worship the Lord."

That day, my internal debate was interrupted by the five-year-old standing next to me. As soon as she saw me notice her raised hands, she wanted to talk about it. "Mommy, why aren't you holding your hands up? Look! I'm holding up my hands for Jesus! You do it, too, Mommy!"

So for once, I did the thing that my heart often longs to do but feels so awkward and even scary:
I raised my hands.

The specific way we worship isn't the point. The point is that for years, I've ignored the urge to let go and worship the way that feels right to me. I've remained content to worship half-heartedly because what everyone else might think was more important than what God has placed in my heart and what I long to say to Him.

For my daughter, though, it was so much simpler than that. She heard the worship leader suggest we raise our hands, she knows that she loves Jesus and wants to express that, and she raised her hands up high. Just like that.

Oh, to be like a child!

Jesus called the children to him and said, "Let the little children come to me,
and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.
Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God
like a little child will never enter it."
Luke 18:16-17

After decades of holding back and arguing with myself and being afraid of what others might think, I learned an important lesson from a five-year-old. Worship isn't about how I look or doing the right thing or following the rules. It's simply about responding to God. Just like that.

This certainly isn't the first time a child has taught me about God (and probably won't be the last!). Sometimes it seems like being around children is the fastest way to learn – or remember – Truth. Have you ever learned a lesson about God from a child?

[Judy Harder]

A Sunday Scripture
Jan 06, 2013 12:20 am | incourage


Therefore, since we are surrounded
by such a huge crowd of witnesses to the life of faith,
let us strip off every weight that slows us down,
especially the sin that so easily trips us up.
And let us run with endurance the race God has set before us.
Hebrews 12:1

[Judy Harder]

Because Rescue Is Coming
Jan 07, 2013 12:00 am | Laura Parker




I met a girl in a brothel named Sarah about eight months ago via covert camera footage. And while I've yet to speak in the flesh to this young woman, I know her story.

Sarah's home country in SE Asia is notorious for both government oppression and extreme poverty, and at the hands of her own mother, she was sold to a human trafficker to pay off a family debt. Moved across borders, Sarah found herself in a neighboring country where she didn't know the language and was at the mercy of the pimp who now "owned" her.

Sarah was 15, and her virginity was soon sold for $600 USD.

Three days after Sarah was sold for the first time, my husband, who was doing undercover investigations into sexual slavery, met Sarah in person. She stared at the floor and fidgeted with a napkin. Contrasted with the other prostitutes who were dressed in short skirts and heavy makeup, Sarah wore street clothes and a hollow expression. My husband and another investigator documented the evidence of her sale to build a legal case for a raid on her behalf, and with the help of a translator who spoke her language, Sarah began to understand that they were there for rescue, not abuse.

Eventually, Sarah wrote on a local bill, "Please rescue me," and handed it to the national investigator, daring to believe that what these two men claimed was true– that she would be rescued and find herself free.

The investigators left Sarah's brothel that night with solid evidence and a promise to return. And then, Sarah waited.

For two. long. months.

Because two months was the timeline in Sarah's case that was necessary for the local police to be effectively mobilized. Eight weeks was the currency which needed to be paid in legal negotiations and red tape in a foreign country that's overwhelmed with the cancer of modern day slavery.

But two months later, on a hot night in the tropics, Sarah's door was kicked down. Rescue came for her in the form of men in swat suits and cars with flashing lights. After several months of suffering in a brothel as a young teenager, Sarah found herself in a police car with a female social worker telling her she was safe.

And Sarah wasn't alone- a total of eight underage girls were rescued by the police and raid team that night.



And here's the thing I can't get away from when I think about Sarah, when I remember her story. Young Sarah was given a promise of rescue, but then found herself still very much in a brothel– trapped by rape, abuse, and fear. I imagine she felt a deep sense of betrayal by these strangers who had promised rescue in whispered voices, but then had kept not showing up each night.

But what Sarah didn't know, what she didn't have the birds-eye view of, was that heaven and earth were literally being moved on her behalf, for her freedom. There were meetings happening in government offices in the capital city, and there was money given and spent to cover the expenses of the raid. There were prayer meetings taking place in the United States for her safety and her heart. There were plane tickets bought and plans formulated and obstacles pushed through with a tenacity that still inspires me when I think of it today. And there was risk assumed by a host of local and Western heroes, members of both governmental and nongovernmental community, who eventually did swarm into darkness, despite the incredible odds,

for Sarah-- this one 15 year- old immigrant.

And this, this to me is the part of Sarah's story I can not escape. Because so often I find myself in a brothel of sorts– a dark place where I can't see hope of rescue, a prison of self or circumstance.  I taste in those moments of doubt a betrayal from what I feel are broken promises,  a despair that redemption could even be impossible, anyway. And I'm tempted to believe that No One is behind the scenes fighting on my behalf.

And this. is. a. lie.

Of epic proportions.

Ask Sarah, I bet she'd tell you.

**********

January is Human Trafficking Awareness Month. If Sarah's story moves you, consider learning more about the issues of human trafficking and modern day slavery by visiting The Exodus Road. This nonprofit is one which was begun in part by Sarah's case in SE Asia. It is a coalition of organizations focused on rescue and redemption. We primarily do undercover investigations with an emphasis on empowering nationals, but we also support raids, prosecutions, and after-care facilities.

And you can help. If you have a blog (it doesn't matter how large or small!), consider joining our blogging team where you'll get to tell monthly stories from the front lines-- stories of slavery, rescue, and hope. You'll get to use your online voice to speak for those that do not have one, connect with a quickly growing team of justice-minded bloggers, and potentially have the chance to travel with us to see the problems of slavery firsthand. You can check that opportunity out HERE.

If you aren't a blogger, please consider subscribing to our Exodus Road Newsletter, liking us on facebook, or following us on twitter (@theexodusroad).

*********

Laura Parker   |   Laura Parker Blog  | @LauraParkerBlog   |  The Exodus Road

[Judy Harder]

I Had Planned On Awesome (A Motherhood Story)
Jan 08, 2013 12:20 am | Sarah Mae




I'm pretty sure I knew I'd be a good mom.

I remember when I worked in a restaurant in high school and some of the employees were all standing around and talking about our futures when I said, "I want to be a stay-at-home mom." One of the men got down on his knees in response and asked me to marry him. He was joking, of course, but I'm pretty sure he was alluding to the fact that not many women wanted to be stay-at-home moms.

I don't really know, maybe I just looked extra cute that day. Either way, his "proposal" gave me a hefty dose of mommy-to-one-day-be self-righteousness.

I went to college and was a human development and family studies major, which to me meant great preparation for being a top-notch mom one day. I was planning on being a counselor so I could be home when my babes got home from school each day. I envisioned myself teaching my kiddos, baking with them, doing crafts, laughing all the time, and being just plain awesome. Yes, these were my future plans.

I got married, and less than two years later was pregnant. In my ninth month of pregnancy I quit my job and began the future I had always envisioned.

Except that after three babies, the "future" didn't look anything like how I'd planned it.

Eight years of marriage and three babies in and I was losing it. I knew I had so much to be thankful for, and that I should count my blessings, but all I was counting were the days until my next break.

I needed to get out, get away, and figure out my life. What had happened to me? I used to be vibrant and fun and ambitious, and I turned into an empty shell of a woman. I felt so lost, so tired, and so very alone.

I was supposed to be a good mom, I had planned on it, but I just felt like one big absurd excuse for whatever a good mother was supposed to look like.

I was drowning.

I felt desperate.

Some days, I even felt trapped. Like I was stuck in this life, this good life that I was supposed to be grateful for, but instead felt a growing resentment towards. How could I be discontent when I had everything I ever wanted? Talk about a conflict of the soul.

Friends, please hear me, I loved my babies to the depth of my being, and I would have died for them. I just had a hard time playing ponies with them.

And I still do.

I'm selfish and lazy, because it's my default, and it's easier that way.

But that is no way to live; there is no fullness in a selfish existence. And so in my conflict, of course I felt empty. On the other hand, I was genuinely experiencing feelings of desperation because I felt so alone in motherhood. I just needed help; I needed a friend, a mentor, an advocate.

I needed to know I wasn't crazy.

I needed to know God heard my whispers, my "I just can't be a mother today" cries towards heaven.

Well, He heard, and He answered, and He gave me a story to tell.

He gave me a story to tell all the other mothers who sometimes feel crazy, or overwhelmed, or confused with how to raise or discipline their children. He gave me a story to tell those sweet mamas who never had an affectionate mom to lean into and receive love and affirmation from. He gave me a story for the moms who feel like they have no support, or who some days, can't get out of bed because life feels just too hard. He gave me a story for those who feel like He's is too quiet. He gave me a story for those who wish they had a mentor, an older, wiser woman to speak into their lives. He gave me a story for those who some days, feel desperate to breathe.

He gave me a story, and I wrote it down for you.

But I didn't write it alone.

I wrote it with the woman that God gave me as an answered prayer. A woman who is wise and kind and gentle and gracious. A woman who taught me to steer clear of formulas and cling to the Spirit. A woman who has taught me to own my life and take responsibility for filling my soul with joy and delight. God brought me a gift in Sally Clarkson, and I'm going to share that gift with you, through my story, Desperate – Hope for the Mom Who Needs to Breathe.



If you've ever felt alone in motherhood, or just so tired, or overwhelmed, or lost, or like you just can't breathe, this book is for you. It's for you on the good days and the bad days and the in-between days that sometimes feel so mundane you could scream.

It's all for you.

And today, DaySpring is giving away the book.

The Giveaway: THREE Desperate sets that include the book, a journal, and a tea cup:



For those of you who want to get their hands on the book right away, you can find it everywhere books are sold (including at DaySpring!). And if you purchase the book this week (the 7th-12th) there are some amazing gifts and giveaways for you (including a year of free house cleaning and a spa weekend away with Sally and me!).

You can learn more about all that by heading to the Desperate website.

ENTER the giveaway by filling out the form below:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

[Judy Harder]

Never Underestimate the Power of a Portrait
Jan 09, 2013 12:20 am | Dawn Camp




[Click the pic for an 8 1/2" x 11" printable image.]

I'm not sure why I feel the need to explain how I've volunteered my time each of the last four Decembers, as if it doesn't sound important or necessary enough without justification. I don't serve the hungry in a soup kitchen. I don't gather gifts for needy children in other countries.

I take portraits for families in need.

I'm a volunteer with Help-Portrait, a global event coordinating the efforts of photographers, photo editors, hair and make-up artists, and others on a Saturday in early December since 2009.

This video from 2010 explains the concept:


The thought lingers that the worse the location I work, the more valuable the service I render—that it won't really count until I shoot in a homeless shelter—and yet every year's Help-Portrait reveals anew the truth that need isn't restricted by geographical boundaries.

In the four years I've volunteered with Help-Portrait I've photographed a man with one leg; a woman whose glowing skin is a result of the radioactive cream she rubs on her face to fight brain cancer; and a young girl, eight and a half months pregnant, that I photographed glamour shot-style, hoping she'll see how lovely she is whether anyone tells her or not.

You don't have to be a photographer to serve. At this year's event in Woodstock, GA, my husband earned the nickname "the baby whisperer" for entertaining little ones while their moms were pampered by hair and make-up. You don't have to wait for a Saturday in December, either: the What if I'm the Only One page has great ideas for anyone at any time who wants to do some good with their camera.

Interested? Join me by marking your calendar for Saturday, December 7, and volunteer locally in 2013. Get started here.

[Judy Harder]

The Calculated Swing
Jan 10, 2013 12:20 am | Sarah Markley




I've always been the girl who needs a mirror to put on her lip-gloss. I tweak car mirrors to my advantage, borrow the backs of napkin containers at a restaurant and even use the rear-facing camera in my phone.

And today, I used the reflection of myself in the computer screen.

I'd been typing the beginning of a different blog post and the Times New Romans bluntly faced back at me. Black on white. Contrast on blank space. Words in the open.

For most purposes, what I could see was a barely-filled Word document. But then I looked a bit closer.

I almost didn't recognize that I could actually see myself in the screen's surface until I needed it and I began to search for it.

And there I was with white headphones streaming from my ears. I was looking back at myself with the beginning of a blog post as the layered backdrop.

There I am.

There I am.

It's a little bit like when those 3D posters filled every spare spot in the mall stores back in the early nineties. We stood in droves in front of them, tried so desperately to somehow shift our focus, and then pray that the 3D image would appear as perfectly as it did for my uncle and my cousin every time.

It was an eager search for a different reality in the same picture.

Sometimes I feel I live most of my life like a subdued Helen Keller, deaf and blind to what is really going on. I see what is stark and pointed and painful, even, but to see myself well or to see others well is a struggle. I don't see until I intentionally shift my focus to see what should be seen.

I react to discomfort and hurt and I fill immediate needs with the things that will fix. I look closely at the big things that wound and the big words that steal, but it takes a calculated swing of concentration to see what is true and what is real. It takes that purposeful searching to see myself.

January is a big month for changes. We want to lose weight or stick to a household budget. Maybe we want to overhaul our personal discipline for reading the Bible or exercising. Maybe we just want our lives to be different.

But different doesn't happen until different eyes are opened. Different doesn't happen until we see ourselves.

We have to open our eyes to what is in order to know what we need to do to change. And sometimes that is the hardest thing to do. To see ourselves for who we truly are is scary and to see our real reflections takes a courage that maybe we don't have.

But it's worth it.

Do we have the courage today to open our eyes?

by Sarah Markley, who is slowly peeking at her own reflection today

[Judy Harder]

How to Get the Most Out of Something New
Jan 11, 2013 12:20 am | Kristen Welch


She hangs her new sweater from her aunt in her closet, next to the new favorite pair of jeans she bought with the Christmas money grandma sent. I suggest coordinating the bright new scarf  from her cousin. And I get an eye roll.

I should know better than to make wardrobe suggestions to my chic teen. I'll just pull up my elastic-waist mom jeans and move along.

The next day, I hear my 13 year old  complain she has nothing to wear to church.

I mention the lovely new things hanging in her closet. "But mom, they are new. I want them to last."



And then I consider The Eye Roll.

Instead I laugh because I totally get her excuse. It's part of our culture, this world that offers new car fragrance spray at the carwash. We love new. New is perfect, clean, never been used. We save up, negotiate, bargain for new things. New is untarnished by old and not impacted by mistakes, time or distress.

There's nothing wrong with new, especially when it's valued in relation to the old.

As we enter this brand new shiny year, we can get the most out of it by abiding by a few principals:

Enter it with gratitude: No matter how we leave the old year, we should offer thanks for it. We should express gratitude for another year of loving God and our families. Even on hard days, we can choose gratitude. We will never regret thankfulness. It's a seed that blossoms into fruit that fills us with joy.

Focus: I'm not much into making resolutions. I feel like I'm setting myself up for failure (perhaps I just know myself well). If you choose goals or resolutions, try to narrow it down to a simple focus. Our family likes to choose a word for the year, a word we need more of (last year was faith) or one we want to show (like gratitude). However you enter this new season, focus on tangible ways to achieve what you're after. Small steps that will lead you to a new place.

Grow into it: I like to buy my kid's clothes off-season. It saves money, but I have to buy bigger sizes because they keep growing. Often the year ahead can seem daunting. How will I achieve my goals? What will happen if? The questions loom. We can worry and fret or we can just take a step and grow by grace into all He has waiting for us. Healthy things grow.

New things are exciting! Who doesn't love something fresh, tied up in a big red bow? But when I reflect on my daughter's words about her clothes in the closet, it's the disappointment I hear most. It's the question mark that is hanging when the new is gone and we are left with what we have.

It's there we discover our two choices: contentment or depression.

Because in truth, something new really brings something that will become old. And when the tags are gone and the new car smell fades, we are left with what we started with. It's the perfect opportunity to be content in all things: whether good or bad, new or old. When we put on the New Year, we are given the chance to reflect Him.

And Christ in our hearts never gets old!

Written by Kristen Welch, We are THAT family

[Judy Harder]

When You're Worried About Achieving Your Goals
Jan 12, 2013 12:20 am | Stephanie Bryant


Your heart's desire.

I'm sure you've been making lists, praying about goals, wanting to do better this new year. A time when you feel an opportunity to start fresh. A new day with no mistakes. 365 of them.

I must confess. I don't follow the instructions of motivational speakers. I don't write down my goals. Yes, everyone tells me that's the way to make things happen. The secret to living your deepest longings. To get it done.

{Something inside me just can't bring myself to write or type them out. Maybe I don't have a specific list. Maybe it's so permanent once it's on paper. Maybe my goals don't seem big enough.}

Honest? I'd rather sit with a good friend over a chai latte and converse about the stirrings that are deep within my soul. The kind that only start to make sense when I feel like I'm fumbling for the right words, but say it out loud anyway. To whisper a thought that has been noodling around in my mind but sounds even crazy to me. The kind of heart dreams that only God can accomplish.

Lately when talking with other women along my path, I've realized that few live the dream God has for them. It seems like I'm in the minority of those who've said 'Yes!'  It seems the yearly written resolutions to do more just don't work.

The other morning, I was reading my YouVersion Bible app daily reading. This verse has stayed with me for a week. Yes, I've read it, heard it and seen it on plaques in homes before. But when the Holy Spirit is about to teach me something, it lingers.

"Trust in the Lord and do good. Then you will live safely in the land and prosper. Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you your heart's desire." – Psalm 37:3-4

Seems like an equation worth pursuing. An easy one at that. Be happy in God and He will give you everything you want.

{Or maybe not.}

Before this verse, King David tells us not to envy others and their success, even those that are evil. Then, he tells us to trust in God and do good. And finally, he gives us a command to find joy and pure delight in our God, to experience great pleasure in His presence.

I think about who I experience great joy with and it hits me. I really know those people. I've shared my life with them. I love and adore them. I can tell you memorable stories about our lives together. Some that will make you giggle, while others may bring a tear.  And they know me just as well.

I'm also committed to each, whether as a wife, daughter or friend. I entrust myself to them and know they each care for me deeply. I trust them with my well being, my body, my possessions and my heart's desire. I know they each want the best for me.

So, why do we think God won't do the same in an unattainable-by-us, perfect way? He waits for us to make Him the desire of our heart. Then our desires change to His will and He freely gives us the desires of our heart. {which are now His. . . and ours'.}

It's a beautiful exchange that creates close love with the Father, makes us more like Jesus and enables us to finally 'live' for the Lord. He will give you the desires of your heart.

Take delight. It's not an 'if you feel like it.' But a command to take joy in our Lord. To find Him at work. Thank Him for all our moments. To be the bright joy in the dark that only comes from The Light.

When we take delight we gain the very thing that was our goal all along {whether we wrote it down or not}. To draw close to God and truly know Him. We have joy once again. And something wonderful happens. . .

King David tells us to 'Commit everything you do to the Lord. Trust him, and He will help you... Be still in the presence of the Lord, and wait patiently for Him to act." Psalm 37:4-5

Then God will act. He will achieve His goals that are now yours'. Your heart's desire is filled. . . with Him.

___________________________
In this New Year, what is your heart's desire that can only be accomplished if you 'Take delight. . . and commit everything you do to the Lord'? Won't you share it with us?
I love how Francis Chan encourages us: "I don't want my life to be explainable without the Holy Spirit. I want people to look at my life and know that I couldn't be doing this by my own power. I want to live in such a way that I am desperate for Him to come through. That if He doesn't come through, I am screwed."