Post Category → scripture

lean on Him.

Snow day on a February morning. Wind blows, snow piles, schools close. Light candles, breathe deep, plan for slow.

A favorite verse from childhood, a melody I’ve sung hundreds of times in moments of fear, anxiety, and overwhelm:

Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee. Trust ye in the Lord for ever: for in the Lord Jehovah is everlasting strength. (Isaiah 26)

Keep: to keep, guard, watch; preserve, guard from dangers
Stayed: to lean or lay upon, rest upon, lean against; to support, uphold, sustain; to sustain, refresh, revive
Trusteth: to trust in, have confidence, be secure; to feel safe; bold, secure, confident, hope, sure

The God who is wants to guard you — you! — as you lean completely upon Him. You can trust Him.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct your path.”

“And the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.”

a morning in January.

For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.

It’s early. The horizon is just now turning pink, the dark canopy overhead fading to a moody blue-gray that is reflected on snowy field. Fire is noisily burning while oldest son occupies the choice seat on its hearth, reading Acts by the light of flicker and flame.

I sit with my journal, Bible, planner, and the laptop that gives me instant access to Naves and Strongs and countless translations. This is my routine, and while it is disrupted now and again, it’s the baseline I return to. I dump the noisy nagging of my brain onto planner and push it away — no more, be done, time for still. I open my journal and awkwardly pen “2022.” It’ll take approximately 11 more months for that to feel normal, just in time for “2023” to make its entrance. My journal has been woefully ignored this last year, and I am determined to recover that habit. I love to flip through the pages and be reminded of the prayers I prayed, the struggles large and small, the testimonies to accompany those. And so I write.

A head cold that passed quickly: thankful.
William’s knee, still sore and swollen: praying, asking.
Another regular school day dawning, the third in a row!: testimony

I am, of late, studying “peace” in the Bible. Today landed me in Romans 14, and so I read verses 17-19, read the chapter, check the Greek, read it in other translations. And I mull it over, deeply aware that whatever this all means, it’s attainable only through the transforming work of the Holy Spirit in my life.

“For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking but of righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.”

The kingdom of heaven is never about what I bring, but about the supernatural move of God in my heart. I am struck by this. Yes, righteousness and peace and joy work themselves out through my doing and my decisions and my convictions, but those doings and decisions and convictions are not THE kingdom of God, but rather its outworking. The wellspring of life bubbling up within — that’s the precious thing. Lean into that. Guard that. Oh, for more and more of that!

Baby cries, little girls wake, and clock says it’s time for breakfast preparations. We will honor the Lord today in what we do, eating and drinking and working as unto Him, but with hearts that are hungry for His Kingdom come: Righteousness, peace, and joy in abundance.

forty.

40.

It feels like just a number, it feels like “the new 30,” it feels like I was just 20 and I still think I am. But the Psalmist says, “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”

Wisdom is to look that number right in the face and recognize: my years on earth are numbered, and they are fleeting. How will I live them?

This morning I ponder that, and my heart is stirred by the favorite scriptures that shaped me so many years ago, gave direction to my steps and fire to my soul. The grace of God in my early life looked like amazing men and women, among whom my parents stand out as chief, who lived and spoke these truths with zeal in their eyes and passion in their hearts. That living Word was passed on to me as treasure and life.

And so I share these today — a few passages and a song — because I am challenged again to live in the fear of the Lord, laying hold of wisdom for the next leg of my race. Maybe they will stir you afresh, too.

“But what things were gain to me, these I have counted loss for Christ. Yet indeed I also count all things loss for the excellence of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, for whom I have suffered the loss of all things, and count them as rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in Him, not having my own righteousness, which is from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God by faith; that I may know Him and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death, if, by any means, I may attain to the resurrection from the dead. Not that I have already attained, or am already perfected; but I press on, that I may lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus has also laid hold of me. Brethren, I do not count myself to have apprehended; but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3)

“Therefore we also, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us lay aside every weight, and the sin which so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith, who for the joy that was set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12)

“If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is our life appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.” (Colossians 3)

All I once held dear, built my life upon
All this world reveres and wars to own
All I once thought gain I have counted loss
Spent and worthless now, compared to this

Knowing You, Jesus
Knowing You
There is no greater thing
You’re my all, You’re the best
You’re my joy, my righteousness
And I love You, Lord

Now my heart’s desire is to know You more
To be found in You and known as Yours
To possess by faith what I could not earn
All-surpassing gift of righteousness

Knowing You, Jesus
Knowing You
There is no greater thing
You’re my all, You’re the best
You’re my joy, my righteousness
And I love You, Lord

Oh, to know the power of Your risen life
And to know You in Your sufferings
To become like You in Your death, my Lord
So with You to live and never die
(All I Once Held Dear, Robin Mark)

If you read one thing this year…

I’ve written before about my [relatively new] reading strategy, and as is usual for January, I’m charging ahead with guns blazing because there are no gardens to distract me.

But what has gone without saying, but actually needs to be said, is that the first (and often last) reading I do each day is the most important, the most life-changing, and non-negotiable. I’m talking, of course, about the Bible.

I’m writing this because I have been recently prompted by the Holy Spirit to start taking in the Word as quickly as I can, and I want to say it is so good. I’m writing this because I see and hear a generation completely divorced from a godly anchor trying to piece together a scaffold of truth based on experience and feeling. I’m writing this because we make excuses — we all do — but it’s all just silly when compared to necessity of knowing and walking according to His Word.

The Word of God is for all seasons. I don’t just mean that its truth endures to all generations — which it does. I mean it’s for your seasons. I’ve done read-through-the-Bible plans in high school. I’ve spent months poring over the Psalms. I’ve spent months with the same 3×5 card in my back pocket, a snippet of Scripture scribbled on it and committed to not just memory, but meditation. I’ve washed dishes with a card taped to the window in front of me. I’ve taken forever to just get through the New Testament with a new baby and toddlers but giving up wasn’t an option. I’ve studied one word or topic for weeks, mining for meaning and truth to stand on. I’ve read in quiet and I’ve read amidst chaos. I’ve read my trusty, falling-apart NASB, and I’ve read every modern translation and paraphrase. I’ve quoted the same two passages of scripture every single morning for months and months. Taking in the Word of God may look different from season to season, but take it in.

It is daily bread. Have you read through the whole Bible — ten years ago? Did you memorize entire books — 15 years ago? Do you know that scripture because you heard it once — somewhere in some sermon? Yes, we build upon those things, but we don’t stop there. The Word is meant to feed us, shape us, transform us. That happens day by day, as we yield our souls and circumstances to its scrutiny, allowing it to the standard by which we live.

You need to know the Word to live by the Word. This seems so basic, but as we were memorizing Psalm 119:105 last week (Your Word is a lamp to my feet, and a light to my path.), I pointed out that that verse challenges us to a heart posture toward the Word, but it also leaves an obvious implication: we need to know the Word. We are bombarded by ideas and worldviews (and much of that we invite via our phone, only to then make excuses about how we don’t have time to read the Bible), but are we equipped to “[cast] down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ”? We make decisions all day long about our actions, words, feelings, thoughts, and use of time. Is His Word really the lamp that illuminates those paths?

You don’t need to be a scholar. I bet you won’t understand everything you come across in scripture. Some of it will leave you with questions, and some of it will just leave you not even sure you were reading in English. Sometimes you’ll read something that just plain old rubs you the wrong way. Don’t stop reading. As I read recently, “Even if you don’t know what to do with the Word, the Word knows what to do with you.” Remember, it’s living and powerful. It will not return void. It is life-giving seed.

Here’s a challenge I embraced last summer that absolutely blew me away: Set a time for ten minutes. Morning, noon, evening — whatever is your jam. For those ten minutes, read. Don’t check your notifications. Don’t wonder how hot it will be today. Don’t jot down to-dos. Don’t add to your instacart order. Just read for ten minutes. (If you’re like me, you will suddenly realize that you severely lack discipline. WOW.) In one month, you will be astounded by how much scripture you have consumed! It’s very fun and very motivating.

Another challenge: next time you’re wanting to learn about something, don’t buy a book on it. Do a Bible study on it! There is every tool you could possibly need, available for free on the ol’ internet. Not sure how to start or what to do? I’d be happy to help get you started. I’m no expert, but that’s the point: you don’t have to be!

Last: some scripture, which puts excitement in my soul and conviction in my heart. We need to know the Word.

Thus says the Lord:
“Heaven is My throne,
And earth is My footstool.
Where is the house that you will build Me?
And where is the place of My rest?
For all those things My hand has made,
And all those things exist,”
Says the Lord.
“But on this one will I look:
On him who is poor and of a contrite spirit,
And who trembles at My word. (Isaiah 66)

Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path. (Psalm 119)

The law of the Lord is perfect, converting the soul;
The testimony of the Lord is sure, making wise the simple;
The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;
The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes;
The fear of the Lord is clean, enduring forever;
The judgments of the Lord are true and righteous altogether.
10 More to be desired are they than gold,
Yea, than much fine gold;
Sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb.
Moreover by them Your servant is warned,
And in keeping them there is great reward. (Psalm 19)

Your words were found, and I ate them,
And Your word was to me the joy and rejoicing of my heart;
For I am called by Your name,
O Lord God of hosts. (Jeremiah 15)

But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. (James 1)

All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness. (2 Timothy 3)

This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate in it day and night, that you may observe to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success. (Joshua 1)

repentance: a gift

Repentance is a gift.

I’ve been thinking about that lately, after praying with several carrying the weight of failure on their shoulders.

Falling short — that’s something we all do. We know, deep in our hearts, the standard of a holy God. Made in His image, our hearts imprinted with a moral code we did not write, we struggle in our brokenness to hit a mark light years beyond our own ability.

Individually, we pledge to not raise our voices so much. Say no to that cookie. Read more books out loud. Compost and recycle. Look better, do better, be better. Corporately, we convince ourselves that if we just rewrite the penal code, if we just hand out more tax dollars, if we just add one more layer of accountability, if we just outlaw this, that, and the other…

And still, we’re a mess.

Because yes, we fall short.

Enter: the gift of repentance.

Romans tells me that, for me, one who has believed in Christ, been purchased with His blood, whose life is hidden in Him, there is therefore now no condemnation.

And it’s not that there’s a free pass to sin. Nor is there a promise that I will now have a sinless life. But rather, my failure no longer can torment me with the whispers and weight of condemnation. It does not own me. I can repent. I have access, in every moment, to the throne room of God, and when I lift my eyes and my heart, I find grace to help in time of need.

The enemy of my soul wants to make the most of those failures. Hold me there, convince me that not only have I failed, but that failure is my name, my identity. His whispers become shouts in my soul until I’m carrying the weight of not only my failure, but condemnation, too, and I am convinced there is no way out.

Not true. There is repentance.

I will stumble. I will. I will raise my voice, I will snap under pressure, I will eat the stupid cookie, I will cave to selfishness and pride. The things I don’t want to do, I will find myself doing. (Romans 7.) But in those moments of failure, I can find immediate freedom through repentance. I can name the sin, repent, and turn away — and be free.

Condemnation has no place operating in my life any longer. I am not condemned; I am redeemed.

Today, find freedom — not in perfection, but in repentance. Grab a hold of His hand, reaching out to you in every moment, drawing you further along in the good work He began and has promised to complete.

Jesus, my portion, + photos

O Lord, You are the portion of my inheritance and my cup;
You maintain my lot.
The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places;
Yes, I have a good inheritance.

My life, made by Him and for Him, is not my own. Not that such yieldedness comes naturally — oh, no. Far from it. We come into this world grasping and grabbing, and we grow into goals and certain assumptions. Clinging to days that we know slip like sand, the idea of letting someone else dictate our moments can be frightening, maddening, unclear.

And yet, there is this treasure to be found: life in Him, for Him.

You will show me the path of life;
In Your presence is fullness of joy;
At Your right hand are pleasures forevermore.

He calls us to Himself, calls out of us gifts and purposes, calls us into abundance.

Life seldom goes exactly as planned — by us, anyway. What freedom and peace to understand that His plans are good and His path firm.

Day after surrendered day, threaded together. Moments faithfully lived, stewarded and not hoarded. And suddenly, instead of being a statement of sheer faith, you look back and exclaim, “the lines have fallen to me in pleasant places!” Not always easy places, but oh, full of His presence and blessing. Joy and sorrow, mountain top and valley, tribulation and triumph — all made pleasant because He is our inheritance.

And so, more than ever, I declare that my boundaries — the lines of my life — belong to Him. He expands them, time and again, a greater territory than I feel up to. Responsibility, testing, even blessing — can I do this? Can we do this?

Yielding to His boundaries, and not clinging to my own life, is only the beginning of the faith He calls me to. Now there is a vast field, a harvest to come in, a wealth of treasure to steward, and there is little old me. Trust Me, He whispers, as I wake each morning to nothing fancier than a pencil and paper turned to to-do list. It is I who work in you both to will and to do for My good pleasure.

Will it always look the way we anticipated? Turn out exactly the way we assumed? Will His timeline for fruitfulness match our estimation? No. But our lives are yielded to Him, not to a formula. And so this yielding isn’t just about His plans and purposes on the earth, but about us knowing Him, trusting Him, loving Him. What fellowship He invites us into! This notion of losing our lives in Him — it truly isn’t about loss at all, but gain. Great, great gain.

Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me.