Tag Archives: Christian Women

On Being “At Home”

02 Monday Mar 2020

Posted by in Home and Family

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Some days the house just gets to me. Too many unfinished projects, too much clutter, too much to clean.

Life gets to me. When will I ever find the time or the willpower to drop those 20 pounds and feel strong again?

The temptation to despair of life in this body, in this house, arises from thoughts like these. And that’s ok, right? Because I’m supposed to be looking forward to my eternal home. So this hum-glum existence until then is just par for the course. A right of passage, you might say.

Or is it?

After recently wrestling through such thoughts, I’ve come to see that in order to be actually looking forward to our eternal home, we need to learn to be grateful for the home we’re in now. Let me back up a couple weeks to explain…

learning to be at home warm content

I stand at the window on a crisp, February morning, staring out through two panes of glass into 30-degree weather.

And I am warm.

This is a good house.

It’s a timely reminder that halts the grumbly thoughts in my head, and I take a deep breath. The knots on my forehead begin to unravel.

As I consider the cold that I am not feeling, I begin to notice how my hands are resting firmly–one on the window sill and the other against the corner of the wall, framing the window. I take a moment to really feel that wall.

It’s sturdy. It’s withstood 70-mile-per-hour winds and little boys ramming into it.

This is a good house.

In the midst of the mess and hustle and bustle of a family that lives, learns, and works at home, and especially ten months into a “five-week” exterior remodeling project, it can be hard to enjoy just being at home.

It can be hard to see the beauty in the home that I’m making when unfinished projects crowd my view. But if I take a moment to sit and observe–not with a critical eye and a running to-do list but rather with eyes enlightened by grace–I begin to see not my work nor my lack of work but gifts of God.

I can wonder at how well we are provided for. Not only by my husband but by the mind-blowing development of things like running water, central heating, and washing machines. And the incredible blessing of dirty little hands, red cheeks and noses, and piles of clothes that signify the beautifully rambunctious lives that fill this place.

There’s another temporary house I’ve been given, and sometimes (many times?) I look at it with the same kind of scrutinizing fix-it-up mentality that I use to greet my dirty linoleum-tile kitchen floor.

My body isn’t as young or strong or capable as it once was. My knees give me trouble, and I’m currently four weeks into a bout with some combination of cold, allergies, bronchitis, and asthma. I’m well enough to function, but I’m not functioning well.

While there’s work to be done for my health and strength (and time required for recovery), I’m finding that there’s also a desperate need to learn to rest–not just physically, but to simply be in this body, just as I have to learn to be in my home, dilapidated as each may seem.

Whatever degradation may come, this body has run races and climbed mountains.

This body has carried, birthed, and nursed two sons–not without complications, but still, it has.

This body has given hugs and held hands.

And it still seems to get me from point A to point B pretty effectively.

It can still kneel prayer, sing in worship, and offer hands to serve.

It’s a good body.

It’s a good gift.

If we are to serve the Lord with gladness there is a real sense in which we need to learn to be at home in our houses and in our bodies. Not in some self-exalting or self-excusing way, but in a very real and contented and Christian way. We need to learn to be at home in our houses and bodies because they are the primary places and primary tools we have for worship and service. And they are gifts that the Lord not only gives but also fills.

He’s not afraid of nor ashamed of broken vessels. In fact, He delights to redeem them.

My house, my body–these are places to be filled with the grace and love and Spirit of Christ. They are not forever, of course. They are a mere shadow of things to come. But as we embrace the “homes” that our Father has graciously given now and by faith see how He transforms and fills them, we are in a better position to truly appreciate and anticipate the Kingdom Home He is preparing for us–a new creation and a resurrected body that are both whole and wholly filled with His presence.

Too often we look with discontentment at our earthly state and say with a grumble, “Well, I’m glad I’ll get a new body and a new home someday.”

But the eyes of faith see the good in God’s gifts both now and in eternity–because the eyes of faith focus more on the goodness of God Himself than on the frailty of our here-and-now. We need not spurn His hand in this life in order to treasure it in the next.

May we have such eyes to see and receive God’s gracious provision–to be at home where He has us now, gladly doing His will until He calls us to that better Home in glory.

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Alone? Unseen? You’re in Good Company.

30 Thursday Aug 2018

Posted by in Home and Family, Living Faith

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It was one of those less-than-ideal Sunday mornings.

The church meeting was to be at our house this week, but we had been busy and the weekly housecleaning hadn’t exactly happened when it was supposed to.

So, as has been the case more times than I care to admit, quite a bit of tidying was left to be done on Sunday. You know, the day of restful, refreshing time with the Lord and His people.

Yeah, Sunday.

Usually my sweet husband takes care of breakfast for our family on Sunday mornings and even helps straighten up when we’re hosting, but this particular Lord’s day, breakfast was all he had time to contribute. I found myself not-exactly-joyfully decluttering the living room, coaching the kids on sweeping the floors, and cleaning up the breakfast mess in the kitchen. Not to mention preparing the elements for communion and doing something (anything!) to make myself look presentable.

My personal quiet time with the Lord didn’t happen that morning, either. Instead of recognizing Jesus was with me anyway, I pouted. Instead of serving the saints with joy, resentment began to build.

There were probably several things building up to this point, but I can’t remember all the details. I just know I felt very alone in my work. Ragged, unnoticed, uncared for, and alone.

I’m pretty sure the resentment didn’t die down in time to greet people warmly as they arrived. In fact, I remember finally coming downstairs after changing into sensible clothes and doing something with my hair and makeup to find that everyone was seated in the living room.

It was hard to sing joyfully.

But then came time for communion.

It’s difficult to hold on to your resentment when the bread and wine silently tell of the One who died for it. 

My thoughts began to spin. I felt alone. He bore my sin alone. I can’t remember, but I think one of the men mentioned something to that effect as they served the Lord’s supper.

Wherever they came from, the meditations on communion spoke to my heart. I’d had a lot of resentment–not just this particular morning, but as a pattern recently. For times when I felt forgotten, alone, neglected, and unhelped in my work–in the cleaning and regular upkeep of life, and most freshly in getting the house ready for church.

Well, I considered, Jesus was betrayed by Judas and abandoned by His followers and friends when He faced His greatest trial, His most weighty work. Jesus bore the wrath of God against sin utterly alone. It wasn’t right. And yet He submitted Himself to it without grumbling, but as the will of God.

He laid down His rights.

There was no defending my resentment at this point. There was only room for repentance.

And comfort.

After all, Jesus, my High Priest, could identify with everything I was feeling. And in all the places where sin merged with those feelings, He had made provision for that, too.

Isn’t the Lord’s table such a precious gift to the body of Christ?!?

alone unseen company

After communion, my thoughts turned to the hidden care of God. When my service and work is overlooked, or taken for granted, or underestimated, I can remember that God is all the time doing good to people who do not see it or appreciate it.

When God says to “do in secret” and that He rewards what is “done in secret”, I don’t think it is only a test of our awareness of God and our desire to please Him. It certainly is this, but I see something more. I think the command must also procede from the character of God–that He Himself delights to “do in secret” and that we should be like Him.

The flowers of the field, we are reminded in the same passage, are beautifully arrayed. The lesson of God’s greater care for His people is clearly connected to our observation of the flowers we can see, but have you ever thought of the fact that God makes beautiful flowers that no human eye sees before they whither and die?

If we aren’t there to behold it, does it mean that the beauty and glory of God isn’t there? No.

He creates beauty and shines light in places where we have yet to venture. So much of His handiwork is unseen to us. I can’t help but think He must take some pleasure in His own work regardless of man’s interaction with or appreciation of it. 

The implications of this on homemaking are numerous, though I won’t slog through the details here. Suffice it to say, these thoughts exposed yet again how far my self-focused and praise-hungry heart is from the heart of a God who lays down His life for His enemies and who lavishes the earth with unseen and unsung goodness.

Is it too much that I’m called to find joy in serving others? Too much that I have a home to care for and that most of that work falls to me? Too much to trust and persevere even when I feel alone and unnoticed? Even when I am alone and unnoticed?

No. I’m not really alone in any of it. There’s one who sees and cares when it seems no one else does.

My great God and Savior has been there. He knows what it is to be alone. He knows what it is to be unappreciated, and on a scale far greater I can imagine.

Yes, I’m in good company.

We, dear sisters, are in good company.

 

Self-Doubt, God-Doubt

15 Thursday Mar 2018

Posted by in Living Faith

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We humans are funny creatures, we can look at our own performance and find it wanting and then look up to the heavens and ask, “God, are you even there?”

self doubt god doubt woman sad

I originally wanted to wax eloquent on this topic, but I’ve recently found myself smack in the middle of it.

Life has been a bit heavy lately.  February brought with it several weeks with a house guest, an impending but yet-unsettled job change, my grandma in the hospital, and a whooping cough scare in our family and close friends.  Just when things seemed to ease up, there’s more emotional heaviness, my husband’s grandma in the hospital, a running injury, a minor car accident, and my house is a wreck as we prepare for my husband to start working from home.

I can count my blessings, to be sure—the Lord has been good to us.  But the past few days as I’ve been trying to keep up with schooling the boys, supporting others, reorganizing all the things, and nursing my physical injuries, I’ve just come up short.

This out-of-control season, with its full load of stress—good and bad—has gotten to me.

I’m not strong enough to bear it.  I’m not together enough to catch up on the cleaning, the cooking, the financial planning, the interrupted school days, you name it.  It seems there are so many plates spinning and people needing and I’m failing them all.

Yesterday I couldn’t really enjoy anything.  I was dull to any feeling but sadness.  Emotionally needy.  Physically hurting.  Spiritually exhausted.

And my pride doesn’t like the feel of it all.

At times like these it’s easy to get discouraged.  My glaring limitations stare me down, and I allow my personal gloominess to cloud my view of the Sovereign God who loves me.

The truth is, I’m finite.  Limited.  Small.  That’s part of what it means to be a creature in contrast to the Creator.  And while it might shock me at times when I’m faced with my limits, God isn’t surprised.  “He is conscious of [my] frame, He is mindful that [I am] but dust.”

But all too often instead of looking up to see the One who is strong for me, I continue to look within and mourn my lack of God-like power over my circumstances.

When my self-confidence wanes, I find my wayward heart can project that same lack of confidence onto the Lord.  Have you ever done the same?

“Things aren’t going my way!  I can’t get control of this!  I can’t seem to get control of myself!  God, are You even there?”

That’s not exactly a rational train of thought, is it?

On our good days we might think of ourselves as “independent”, “self-sufficient”, “got-it-together”, “responsible”, “emotionally stable”, and, let’s be honest, just plain “awesome”.

And then when things fall apart, “I’m failing at everything.” “I’m a burden to others.” “I’m a hot mess.”  “I just can’t even.”

Been there?

Sometimes our confidence fails because it was misplaced to begin with.  Sometimes our faith falters because we took our eyes off the Lord long before things went sour.

I’m not necessarily saying the hard times and our failings are caused by this misplaced confidence (though sometimes that might be the case).  What I’m saying is that when our confidence is shaken, it may be that we’re upset with God not because He has failed us, but because we aren’t as awesome as we thought we were.

When we’re brought to the end of ourselves, the world’s counsel is often to dig deeper within. “Believe in yourself!”  “You’re stronger than you think!”  “You’ve got this!”  And while it’s healthy to silence the voices that accuse and condemn with the promises of forgiveness and life in Christ (see Romans 8!), we can’t ultimately combat our short-comings by looking within.  God doesn’t intend for our struggles to lead us to despair of ourselves and then stay there.

Check out the exhortation in Isaiah 40:26-31:

Lift up your eyes on high
And see who has created these stars,
The One who leads forth their host by number,
He calls them all by name;
Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power,
Not one of them is missing.

When you feel out of control, don’t project that uncertainty on the Lord by thinking that you’re the only one who can fix your situation.  Look up!  Your God is the sovereign Lord over all the universe!  He made and sustains the stars and He made and sustains you!

Why do you say, O Jacob, and assert, O Israel,
‘My way is hidden from the Lord,
And the justice due me escapes the notice of my God’?
Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The Everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth
Does not become weary or tired.
His understanding is inscrutable.
He gives strength to the weary,
And to him who lacks might He increases power.
Though youths grow weary and tired,
And vigorous young men stumble badly,
Yet those who wait for the Lord
Will gain new strength;
They will mount up with wings like eagles,
They will run and not get tired,
They will walk and not become weary.

When self-doubt strikes, don’t project that doubt onto the Lord by continuing to wallow in your own weaknesses and failures.  Look up!  Your God is strong and gives strength to the weary!

Are not two sparrows sold for a cent? And yet not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But the very hairs of your head are all numbered. So do not fear; you are more valuable than many sparrows.

When you’re afraid and think no one notices, don’t project human ignorance onto the Lord by assuming He’s forgotten you, too.  Look up!  Your God knows the hairs on your head, and He who watches over the sparrows cares even more for you!

I will lift up my eyes to the mountains;
From where shall my help come?
My help comes from the Lord,
Who made heaven and earth.

When help is hard to come by and your situation and yourself seem helpless, don’t project that hopelessness onto the Lord by forgetting to run to him with your need.  Look up!  Your God is your “refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble.” (Psalm 46)

While this season has been hard and humbling for me, bringing with it more than a fair share of tears, I’m riding the waves more smoothly than I have in the past because these truths have been much more at the ready and I’m quicker now to cast my cares on the Lord.

I’ve heard it said recently, “Trials can make you bitter or better.”  For the Christian, the “better” God intends for us is to be strengthened in our confidence in Him.

Our human resources may fail us, and while it humbles us to realize that we can’t ascribe greatness to ourselves, let’s not forget to ascribe to the Lord the greatness due to His name (see Psalm 29).  We’ll find our confidence will return when it is grounded in the right Person.  And we’ll find the next storm of self-doubt and disappointment, while still painful, will have less impact on our faith when it is firmly rooted in a God who doesn’t disappoint those who hope in Him.

Here’s to growing in grace.

What Do We Do with Doubt? [VIDEO]

12 Thursday Oct 2017

Posted by in Living Faith

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Look out, world.  I have a YouTube channel.  It’s still quite laughable in my mind, but alas, it now exists and I am now telling you about it.

All not-taking-myself-too-seriously aside, my first video seeks to answer the question, “What do we do with doubt?  Where do we go with it?”  I didn’t figure my channel needed much introduction besides simply jumping right in with something that matters to me, and I suspect, to many of you.

I hope you will find the discussion encouraging to you in your walk with the Lord, whether your current situation finds you steadily leaning on the everlasting arms or shakily hanging on for dear life.

You can find my first video here.  If it’s a blessing to you and you’d like to see more videos of this kind, along with some practical home, life, and school management videos, please consider subscribing to my channel.  Lord willing, this first video will not be my last.

God bless!  Soli Deo gloria.