Why I'll Be Rejoicing In November

Oy, this election. You're killing me, Smalls.

Election seasons are hard. This is nothing new, and yet every time one happens we seem to act even crazier than before. I will admit, however, that this one is particularly bad, for reasons of which I'm sure some of us are all too aware.

Beginning long before this outlandish spectacle began, I have often found myself under the spell of discouragement, and even at times, of despair. As the world appears to spiral more and more out of control with each passing day, I get caught up in the horror of it all far more often than I should. It's like a disease that flows over into other parts of my life, affecting even the areas that are supposed to be filled with joy.

That is complete and utter insanity.

Given all I know about God and His promises, and His incredible grace and love, I am nothing but a great fool when I give myself over to the pain and confusion this world has to offer. Why do I hold this redemptive hope in my hands and still walk around like it doesn't exist? I have everything and act as though I have nothing.

Every obstacle should be viewed as more opportunity to grow in grace, to fully understand that my life does not end with my departure from this earth. If it did, I'd have every reason in the world to fret, throw my hands up in disgust, and give up. Instead, I have every reason in the book to celebrate.

God is sovereign. “I know that you can do all things, and that no purpose of yours can be thwarted” (Job 42:2). “The Lord has established his throne in the heavens, and his kingdom rules over all” (Psalm 103:19). None of this has changed. Just because I feel as though everything is completely out of control doesn't mean that it actually is.

He is good. “And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Romans 8:28). It doesn't look good. It doesn't feel good. In fact, I'm willing to bet that most of us would describe the past several months (and longer) as awful. But we trust in Him and all His wisdom and might and love because HE is good. Even when we're surrounded by the bad, we're enveloped in the good.

He wins. “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world” (John 16:33). We are already victorious. In spite of ourselves, all that is messed up in this world will not defeat us. We will not remain in the wilderness forever.

I am vowing to remember these points as I set out to change my approach. I've lived far too long under the blanket of defeat, missing out on the peace held out to me just on the other side.

I will rejoice because I still have the abundant life, and I carry blessings with me in each and every step I take.

I will be thankful for that knowledge and remember that until my dying breath, I will fight for what matters.

I will not allow my sense of worth to diminish because I feel as though my voice hasn't been heard.

I will not forget that there is a plan and purpose for it all, even when it hurts, even when it sucks, even when I am in fear.

I will seek to live in the light of glory, praising Him with every breath.

I will not throw my hands in the air and give up and quit fighting and close my eyes and wait for it all to be over. I will not let the fire in my soul burn out. I will walk this weary road, but I will not forget where it leads.

How Can I: A Resolution Of Sorts

Six months in and she's got my heart. She did from the beginning, of course, but that heart is only getting more deeply embedded in that fragile place where parents' hearts go, where it shatters at every story on the news and thunders with panic at every feverish night, and yet somehow keeps repairing itself at every wide-eyed grin.

Oh, Cora Ivy. I gave her that name because it means heart of faithfulness – my prayer for her – but how can I dare long for such a treasure when my own faith is ever-waning?

It's the season of faith. The ornaments hang from the tree so confidently, and those lights flicker with abandon, while inside my heart is a wrecked mess of sadness and fear and longing that's within all of us, but no one seems to talk about anymore.

How can I look into those beautiful little eyes without thinking about all that they will see?

Thinking back on my own trials, I can't help but wonder what hers will be. What theirs will be. I

know not what it is, just that it is to come. Living life in a fallen world, no one escapes the battles that overwhelm the soul. Has my path prepared me? How can I help them through it all when my own search hasn't always turned up answers and has too often left me brokenhearted?

How can I teach them about their worth when I struggle with my own? How can I tell them to be bold, that they need not worry about what anyone else thinks of them when their own mama has never learned how to do it? How can I give away patience when I've run out of it?

How can I teach them how to love when the world will never cease to throw at them every false version of love it can come up with?

How can I...how can I...how can I…

How can I sit there and tell my big girl not to be so hard on herself when Lord knows I do it to myself too? How can I encourage my boy to be strong when I feel weak? How can I give this tiny baby who strokes my face as she curls up against my body the security that she truly needs?

I sing along with the Christmas carols - “the hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight” - and the feelings come and go. Here comes the hope. Here come the fears. And so on it goes as it has since the beginning of time.

Before bed I read them The Little Engine That Could, and I dwell on those words more than they will ever know – I think I can, I think I can – turn out the light, and keep chugging along. I keep chug-chug-chugging. It's all I can do.

Then when all has quieted down and I retreat to that place within that can get messy and harsh and fearful, I force myself to fill it with hope. I think about the story my clever little girl wrote and illustrated for me. I think about my energetic little boy proudly bringing in the chicken egg he collected from the hens all by himself. I remember the first heartfelt, unprompted 'thank you' and the last big hug I got, and I let my thoughts linger on all the laughter and joy in between. Because that's the place my heart needs to go.

It's more than how can I. It's why can't I. It's how can I not.

So I'll keep chugging along, but I'll change the rhythm of the engine. I know we can. I know we will. And we will indeed, because what more could be worthy of yearning for but the faith to carry us through?

I must pull my heart from the trenches and place it on the mountaintop. It belongs to them, after all. They need their mama's heart to soar above the oceans so they can fly too.

31 Days Of Strength In Scripture: On Trials And Testing

“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” - James 1: 2-4

That's a doozy right there, isn't it? Consider our trials joy??? I don't like that. At all. I can think of many horrors on that 'trials' list that no one in his or her right mind would find very joyous. I think that if we're being honest, we have to admit that this is an uncomfortable verse for us. In fact, the only way I'm able to write about this right now is because I'm not currently facing a hard trial.

But I have before and I can say that I do understand what this verse says about the testing of faith producing endurance. Smaller trials prepare us for the larger ones, but also, the more we exercise our faith, the more natural it becomes to do so. And let's face it – it's not all that difficult to exercise faith when everything is going our way. How often do you hear well-meaning (but not suffering) people toss out phrases like, “it was God's will” or “He doesn't give you more than you can handle”? Sure, it might sound nice when you're on the other side of pain and suffering, but in the throes of it? Sometimes there just isn't a phrase or verse that will ease the hurt. Pain is heavy stuff.

The key is those verses point us to the One who has promised comfort and rest to us, who gives us strength and grace in our weaknesses, and in whom we can trust for the hope and peace that we seek. That's what we have to be joyous about. He never changes, but instead His promises stand no matter how much we waver and struggle, no matter what we're up against.

There are no throwaway moments in life. There is no waiting for the good part – because the present, no matter how good or bad it may be, is still an important part of the good.

“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” - Romans 5:3-5

He understands suffering because He did so on our behalf. But what happened right after that trial of His? He rejoiced. In fact, there was much rejoicing because He overcame it and every other trial we would ever face. Though we may not feel like rejoicing today, one day all we will know will be joy...and love...and peace. That's the promise that keeps me going, that keeps me from giving up.

“Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal among you, which comes upon you for your testing, as though some strange thing were happening to you, but to the degree that you share the sufferings of Christ, keep on rejoicing, so that also at the revelation of His glory you may rejoice with exultation.” - 1 Peter 4:12-13

31 Days Of Strength In Scripture: Why Hope Matters

“If we have hoped in Christ in this life only, we are of all men most to be pitied.” 1 Corinthians 15:19

Even the Bible recognizes this conundrum of living a life of faith. If Christ really wasn't raised from the dead, if everything we are living for and preaching about is all in vain, then how sad are we? How sad is it to think of living a meaningless life just to die and return to the earth as dust?

But, I suppose that's the alternative, no matter how you look at it.

There are certain things I hate about being a Christian. I hate that some people hate me for what I believe, I hate that they make assumptions about who I am (anti-gay, anti-woman, etc), and I hate that there is absolutely nothing I can do or say to change their minds. I know many other Christians who have gained the maturity to no longer care about what other people think of them, but I'm not one.

Yet it's to be expected because the Bible even makes mention of that:

“You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.” Matthew 10:22

I guess if everyone loved me, I'd ought to be worried, but I believe that desire comes partly from the eternity that He has set in our hearts. I am loved, truly and wholly, by Him, and one day I will know nothing else but that kind of love. For now, however, I am stuck in a different world, one that sometimes feels like a prison.

Thankfully, there is hope to be found in scripture about that very thing.

“You are from God, little children, and have overcome them; because greater is He who is in you than he who is in the world.” - 1 John 4:4

Every human being has the potential to let us down. Even Christians. There are plenty of criticisms we could make about the church, including the self-righteousness that can arise when there are disagreements over scripture, and the hypocrisy and cliques that so often push people away. What we all have to come to realize is that it isn't about us. It isn't about 'them'. It isn't about anyone except 'He who is in us', and if we'd all just get out of the way and let Him take care of things, we'd be a whole lot better off.

Perhaps it's this fact that makes the whole faith thing worth it: If it's only us who are in control, with all of our faults and awful imperfections, then there is no hope to be found. But the redemption is there, and it's real, and it's so much better than anything we ourselves have to offer.