Still God.

I dropped my kids off today, for what will be a new year of school. They have different haircuts than they did last year. They are older, taller, and have bigger feet. A lot has changed in their world since their last day of school last year. Time has forged on.

And God has still been God.

Much has happened in my own life since summer began. I went to El Salvador and watched my heart break in a new way over children I never knew. Wrote a book. Started running. Closed a ministry that had the heart of myself and my husband for a solid year.

And God has still been God.

There have been bumps in the road, relationship difficulties, misunderstandings and hurdles. Finances have been tight and life has been challenging.

And God has still been God.

There are many things I find myself wanting to write about this morning…and nearly as many that need to remain tucked in the corners of my heart. There are things I want to speak out about and issues I long to give voice to -- I want to defend myself against people who don't really know me but think they do and challenge people to get over themselves in order to do God's work. But God is preventing those things from being written. Instead, He’s asking me to do what I’ve always done through this venue and simply remind people of who He is while letting Him manage all the periphery.

And now, as I sit in a quiet house listening to the sound of Kristian Stanfill’s song, “You Will Always Be,” tears take form. Grateful tears. Weary tears. Joyous tears. To hear the words, “kingdoms rise and kingdoms fall, but You go on and on…,” I am moved by its truth. I resonate with its message – one of Jesus being faithful, real, and always the same.

In my ever-changing world, I could not need to know this more.

Today, as in every day, I cling to the character of a God who is who He says He is, knows my heart like no one else, and regardless of age, time, circumstance or space, is still and always will be God.

...whose consistency is unmatched. Whose sovereignty can be trusted.

Still God. Glorious God.

Fine Lines

Life is full of fine line moments.

Knowing when to speak up for something…and when to stay silent. When to hold onto something…and when to let it go. When to pursue something…and when to sit back in faith.

Choices like this are incredibly tough, especially when our feelings are involved and a circumstance could warrant either one. It takes a great deal of discipline and discernment to know which is right for the moment.

It takes a lot of prayer. Focused, dedicated prayer.

The truth is, we can’t make these calls without God. All of us have seen what happens when we rest on what we know to do and trust that we feel is best.

“I guide you in the way of wisdom and lead you along straight paths.” {Proverbs 4:11}

Without the wisdom of God, the roads we travel down are likely to be crooked, rocky, or impassable. We will mess up relationships, elicit heartache, or even...self-destruct.

With such high stakes, there is really no other call to make but to call on God, asking Him to give wisdom in decisions that look like they could go either way.

Because He is God, and we are not...

...with great ability to give peace in the difficult and confusing fine line moments in our life.

The Gift of Perspective

I’m convinced that sometimes we all just need a little change in perspective.

It helps us see things more clearly.

Complain less. Care more. Become open.

My recent trip to El Salvador with Compassion International did that for me. I wrote about it HERE.

Even now, I find myself thinking about the experience when I least expect it. Today, I found a brand new pair of kids shoes in my garage that my son never wore but outgrew -- crisp, white, and trendy. I wonder if the little boy I saw playing kickball in the muddy sewer water ever had a pair of shoes like that. I already know the answer, and I feel wasteful.

I want a new lamp for my living room. I reflect back on the mud-floored shelters filled with the pungent smell of earth but void of electricity, and the new lamp seems ridiculous.

It rains, and I refuse to leave my garage until I locate my favorite umbrella to cover me. Unwarranted pictures flash in my brain of a metaled makeshift roof meant to cover a family of 5, yet inadequate to prevent waterfalls to flow through it's gaps, unrestricted. I visualize the full-sized mattress 3 teenagers call their bed, directly underneath the falls and in constant jeopardy of becoming soaked during rainy season. Suddenly, I’m thankful for my cluttered garage, that I have enough money to buy an umbrella at all, and a roof that’s not leaky.

Scripture verses also hold new meaning for me since my trip. Just this week I read these 11 words in Psalm 86:4… “Give me happiness, O Lord, for my life depends on you.” Immediately, my mind drifts to a young girl of 16 named Veronica. I doubt I’ve seen such a big smile in all my life. I’m taken aback by her joy, especially after I learn of her story.

She shouldn’t be happy. Her home is not beautiful. Her world is not bright. Her mother is not present. Her grandfather is not nice. Her dress is not stylish. Her feet are not clean. She has a cot for a bed, a hole for a toilet, and skinny dogs begging her for food she does not have to give.

Yet she smiles.

And I feel spoiled.

I think about how her life depends on God. Every breath of it. I wonder how she has survived for this long, in her circumstances. Yet in my heart, I know.

He gives her life.

I cry at the thought – the sheer availability of Someone so powerful. The thoughtfulness. The care.

And I remember…not only the people that I met and left behind in El Salvador, but those I meet and others I won’t who share my same Savior.

And I feel thankful. For hope. For love. For joy. For life.

For perspective.

Life Lived Less Comfortable

I have a hard time trusting believers who claim to be completely comfortable with the way they live out their faith.

Do I think one can get to a point where they are in a better spiritual place than they have ever been? Yes. In many ways, that is how I would describe my current spiritual status.

But at a certain point, comfort stifles growth. Sadly, it is the existence of many believers to enjoy long, extended periods of spiritual immobility.

I’ve watched people become prideful, bitter, self-focused and/or flat out bored because somewhere along the way they have decided that serving God needs to be on their terms, which narrows their options in the Kingdom exponentially.

I’ve been there, too.

But the more I get to know God, the more I recognize the ways in which I fail to be like Him. It is exactly as Romans 3:20b says, “For the more we know God’s law, the clearer it becomes that we aren’t obeying it.” Personalizing this truth doesn’t depress me (though it does convict me)…instead it keeps me in a place of willingness to dive deeper, go farther with God than I ever thought I could -- be better tomorrow than I was today by praying harder than ever to emulate His character.

I am no more capable of this than anyone else. In fact, I’m a woman of more reservations, failures and inadequacies than you may know.

But I want to improve. I want to be more like Christ. If desire counts for anything, I’m at least on the field, ready to play.

Yet I know that where I am is not where I need to be. It’s better than where I’ve been. But that’s not enough to hang the rest of my life on.

I acknowledge that comfortable is the popular way to live. It colors how we shop for clothes, furniture and churches. It is the way we rate our friendships.

But God doesn’t call us to stop with what we did yesterday or how many years we’ve done service in His Kingdom. As the Creator of our talents, He needs not be convinced of things we could be capable to do. No one desires more than He does to see believers willing to rise to their potential. The truth is...

Knowing God breeds desire to be more like Him.

Loving God breeds desire to live life better.

And far less comfortable.

His

My girlfriend called me this morning with a huge burden on her heart. Though different from the specifics weighing on mine, I related to her struggle to cope with things out of her control.

People.

Circumstances.

Major life decisions without clear direction.

The reality is that there are just some things we cannot do anything about at the end of the day but say, “It’s yours, Lord.” It’s exactly what my girlfriend said after trying to first deal with it on her own.

For me, it’s an “It’s yours, Lord” kind of day.

What about you? Are there things you are dealing with that you need to let Him have?

Stop trying to cope. Stop hoping to figure it out. Give it over.

It’s His.

big.

I start this blog off with this confession: sometimes in the moments of my daily living, the knowledge of who God is doesn’t consume my thoughts.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but it must be acknowledged.

Other days, I can barely do anything but cry out the lump in my throat over the remembrance that a big God gives me His (very divided) undivided attention.

Yesterday I had one of those days.

My family watched THIS VIDEO together over the weekend. If you’ve never watched it, you simply must. Go to your local bookstore and find it, order it online – do whatever you have to do to watch it. But be warned: its contents may cause a throat lump to form, worthy of a big old ugly cry.

It’s a beautiful message of a very big God who loves a very small every last one of us.

Many times in my daily life I feel small…less significant than another…a whole lot of trouble for a busy God to have to spend His time, keeping in line.

Maybe that’s why my soul longs for a place where my status is cherished. Valued. Given priority. Tagged as highly important.

My heart rejects it when the world tells me I’m just a number. I refuse to believe the space I occupy is a rented one – able to be reissued or recycled to the next person who comes along after me. Yet sometimes, this thought creeps in.

And even though Psalm 139 is permanently etched in my mind, it takes more than a memorized chapter of words to turn me inside out and expose my innermost longings of needing to be close to Something bigger than myself.

Which is why I often need the reminder of the big God I love. I need to feel small without feeling insignificant. Valued without feeling entitled.

And on those days when I feel like just a number, I will look for those reminders that He is as big as I know Him to be. And I will remember why that knowledge is worth having a big old ugly cry over.

He’s a big God. And He loves you…and me.

May that never stop being a big deal.

Selling Books, Not My Soul

People who know me well know I grapple with this whole promotional Christian artist/writer/speaker world I find myself enveloped in. It seems I spend a lot of brain space wondering how to be and do what God has {dually} put breath in me to do and burned inside my heart…without getting caught up in the whole “author getting famous” deal that people claim has to go with it.

Trust me when I say: I hate anything that seems contrived, and often, that includes my view of ministry.

I was thinking about this today upon receiving an email from an old and dear friend. Her words touched my heart. They also jolted me back to a bit of spiritual reality, and caused me to remember something I find key in this whole ministry thing…

We can’t forget about people.

I know that some of you will be annoyed that I simplify it this way. It’s a repugnant thing to suggest to our fragile egos that we might (gasp!) possibly forget about anyone. But the very real risk in the rat race of self-promotion is that somewhere along the way, it could be the one thing that causes us to lose touch with our core mission. Not only can it happen, but often, it does.

Trust me, I get what has to be done to sell books. I’m just rebel enough to not want to sell my soul doing it.

Not everyone is contrived in this process. I’ve seen more than one ministry leader who has a healthy view of who they are and what they are called to spend their life doing. As a result, their authenticity is felt. The truth is, God doesn’t give a flying flip how many Twitter followers we have. (Even though I’m not too proud to admit that I’d like to have a few more, if I’m being completely honest.) What He wants to know is: have you helped me change someone’s life today by representing me well?

The results of the pursuit of spiritual authenticity are far richer than the pursuit of personal acknowledgment. May that thought be our compass and guide in the mad days of social media gone wild. If necessary, may we go back to the place we started, when our one core desire was simply to show the world Jesus. May we never forget about people, who are infinitely more than just a number to God.

May we help change someone’s life today by representing Him well.

Lips May Lie

I’ve been reading Psalm 78 this morning.

It’s talking about the children of Israel and how they treated God – the One who saved them from enslavement and their self-produced problems, stemming from their stubbornness and lack of remembrance for all He’d done to rescue them.

How familiar this is to me.

Verse 36 is where it really hurts, when it says:

“…they followed him only with their words…”

Often, I speak to women about how it is very possible to say things with our lips that we don’t really mean in our heart. We do this because many of us have been so programmed to speak Christian lingo that we forget when we’re talking to God that He sees right through it. He’s far more interested in the condition of our heart than hearing cheap talk that doesn’t last any longer than the moment it leaves our lips.

Yet still, we continue to try to say the right things to prove we are one of His. Others may believe it. But He knows the heart from where it comes.

Maybe our prayer today (and everyday) should be: “God, help me not say anything today I don’t mean. Close my mouth if what comes out will not be true and honest, especially when it comes to You.”

And if we wind up saying nothing at all, at least we will know that our words didn’t guide us into insincerity. I dare say a few fewer words won’t hurt any of us…especially when the ones that do come out will be ones that we really mean.

The awesome God of truth we say we follow deserves nothing less.

the Bubble

This story (click for link) is a hot one right now, in the Christian community. If you haven’t been living under a rock you may have heard about it.

I’ve been asked to weigh in on this subject, and I do so with a deep understanding that not everyone will love my response. Good thing I have busted out of my own churchy bubble just in time not to care.

Which brings me to what I believe the issue is at hand: the bubble many believers live in.

It’s what causes us not to see how we are coming across to others…and maybe not even worry about it. Of course, we would say that we do, because churchy people don’t admit to things like that. But actions always tell the true story.

I’m not here to debate what specific beefs Anne Rice has with the church. What I am here to do is to weigh in on my thoughts about her “ditching Christianity” as a whole.

Ironically, this is something I tackle in my new book with George Barna, out next year. In it, I ask women to do something many of them have ever considered: to separate their religion and tradition from Jesus, Himself. My theory (which has been proven true, many times over) is that if you don’t, when the church lets you down (and they will), you will begin to ask questions about God that you don’t need to. If He has been equated with all of your rituals and practices and you associate Him with the pastor who preaches love but practices something else, you will eventually want to ditch the whole gamut. In other words, God loses out because people don’t represent Him well. It happens all the time. Got scores of emails of personal stories in my inbox right now to prove it.

In addition to these testimonials, I’m a recovering church-aholic, myself…so I get it. I’ve seen it. Been on both sides. Lived in the bubble and watched it burst around me. Survived it and love Jesus more than I ever have. But that doesn’t mean I love the way believers hurt each other.

I don’t love the way we get angry when someone tells us the truth about who we often are. Or the way we respond to people when they don’t think like us. Or the way we tag people unfairly when they step a little too close to things we cling to like spiritual security blankets.

I find Jesus in none of that.

I’m no Anne Rice: a woman who probably lived many years without the tradition I was born into. I’m a former churchy girl who grew up in a very churchy world and in many ways, haven’t left. But do I want to be associated with those who speak His name but don’t bear His fruit? Absolutely no way.

I want to associate with the Jesus who loved, gave away, inspired, influenced, healed, and drew people in by His character. I want to associate with the Jesus who was who He said He was, all the time – not just from the stage or on camera. I can’t be Him. But I want to be like Him. It’s quite a lofty goal, but I’m working on it.

And for those of my churchy friends who will want me to address His righteousness and holiness and the mandate to live by Scripture, on that we can agree. I wouldn’t forget about those things and feel compelled to want to achieve them, as well.

I’m just glad that I can do that outside of my churchy bubble.

Really glad.

Confession of a Happy Misfit

If I told you that I don’t usually do what people tell me to do, that wouldn’t be a shocking confession. Most of you who follow my writing know that already.

But other things may come as a surprise to you. Like the fact that I am not as confident as you may think. And I rarely feel like I fit in, most anywhere.

I can play well with others (I’m a former pastor’s daughter, remember?), but I really don’t thrive inside circles you might expect. I don’t like to conform. I like to surprise people who assume I’m one way and find out I’m another. I always root for the underdog because usually, it’s me. If you tell me I can’t do something, I will die trying to prove you wrong.

I won’t tell you that there haven’t been moments that I saw this personality thing of mine as a huge hindrance. Believe me when I admit that I spent multiple years of my life wishing I could just be like everyone else: keep my mouth shut and play along. But somewhere along the way I figured out that my best option was to continue to be myself, even if that meant that I would often find myself in places I didn’t quite fit.

The thing is, it’s often better not to.

Fitting in many times means to say yes to things you really should reject. It can mean that you may walk away from group settings or packaged conversations with people whose main purpose is to just fit in, feeling compromised in some way. It's those times that you find yourself laughing about things you don't think are very funny...talking about things you don't really care about...hoping no one will notice that you are about to jump out of your very own skin.

The truth is: people that fit in may become more popular, but they never become more effective.

The happy misfits are the ones that have a shot at really making a difference, no matter what the popular crowd may say.

Join the team. If Jesus went against popular thought, so can you.