Is His love swayed by your productivity? Must you work hard to keep Him happy? Do you wonder if He’s disappointed with your struggles and frustrated by your frailty?
Joining us today on this topic is my dear friend, Lori Hatcher. Yesterday, she launched her newest book Refresh Your Faith, Uncommon Devotions from Every Book of the Bible. (Grab your own copy here.)
The following post comes from her book, based on a passage from Isaiah.*
“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”
(Isaiah 40:11)
The early chapters of the Book of Isaiah begin with cinematography that would make the most epic 3-D film look like a kindergartener’s cartoon.
Isaiah describes smoke, thunderous noise, and angelic multitudes crying out in praise before almighty God in his temple. His heavenly glimpse of God in his throne room fills him with awe and fear. “Woe to me!” he cries. “I am ruined!”
Other Scriptures reinforce this image of God, describing him as the Conquering King, Righteous Judge, Mighty Warrior, and Powerful Sovereign. It describes how the oceans churn or quiet at God’s command. One word from God speaks the world into existence. Another has the power to send it up in smoke. With a flick of his mighty arm, thunderbolts fly from heaven. An angry glance from his all-seeing eyes causes the earth to swallow those who disobey his commands.
“See,” Isaiah 40:10 says, “the Sovereign LORD comes with power, and this arm rules for him.”
No doubt about it, God is strong. And God is active.
I’ve always admired these attributes of God (even though I find them more than slightly terrifying), because I like strength and activity. I’m a doer, not a sitter, character traits that fit well with my assumption that God expected me to be like him and work hard on his behalf.
But then I had children.
And my busy, do-lots-of-stuff-for-God life came to a screeching halt. Forget teaching a class, working on the bus ministry, or helping with every function the church sponsored. I could barely get myself and my baby dressed and out the door to attend worship on Sundays.
Then my baby had colic (which I wouldn’t subject any nursery worker in the world to). After colic, she had separation anxiety. She was three years old before she’d go into a toddler class so I could attend adult Sunday school again.
Six months later, her sister was born, and I was back to barely making it to church on Sundays.
My days of do-it-all ministry had come to an end. As far as the kingdom was concerned, I was useless.
A taker instead of a giver.
A dead weight on the gospel ship.
My heart sank to think how disappointed God must be with me. Then I read Isaiah 40:11:
“He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those that have young.”
Suddenly, I understood that the Mighty Warrior was also a tender shepherd.
The Conquering King stoops down to lift the fragile and the frail.
The Righteous Judge carries his children, not as a burden on his back, but as a treasure near his heart.
The Powerful Sovereign gently leads those who are emotionally tender and physically sapped – and boy, did that describe me in those early childrearing years.
Through Isaiah’s beautiful picture of God, I learned I didn’t have to be productive for God to love me. I didn’t have to perform to earn his favor. I was free to accept what I saw as my season of “inactivity,” knowing that God had not only ordained it, but had a good plan for it.
In his tenderness, he would carry me through my season of mothering if I would rest in him and allow him to lead me.
Isaiah’s picture of God gently leading those with young gave me permission to be frail and vulnerable, knowing that he wouldn’t drive me with his rod, but lead me with his shepherd’s crook.
My children are grown now, and I’m “busy” for the Lord again. As I look back on those childrearing years, I see that they were not fruitless. Once I realized that different seasons of life bring new (and often different) opportunities to minister, I was free to embrace each season instead of chafe at it.
I learned to look for ways to be Jesus’ hands and feet wherever I was, knowing that each day was ripe with potential. And I never again worried that I wasn’t productive enough to satisfy him.
I rested in the fact that the Great I AM is not frustrated by our frailties or impatient with our humanity. Instead, he willingly takes the place of a shepherd to lead with us through our earthly journey.
Uncommon Thought The Great I AM is not frustrated by our frailties or impatient with our humanity. Instead, he willingly takes the place of a shepherd to lead with us through our earthly journey.
Unusual Faith Think a moment about your perception of God. Do you see him as a stern taskmaster, demanding and hard to please?
Or do you see him as a shepherd, gentle and understanding toward your frailties? Do you feel as though you never measure up? That you can’t do enough to please him, especially if you’re in a season of life when you feel unproductive?
Spend time meditating on Isaiah 40:11. Imagine yourself as the lamb the prophet writes about. Picture yourself in the arms of the Savior, carried close to his heart.
Ask God to lead you into a greater understanding of his love and care for you. Then follow where he leads you, trusting that he will use you for his glory, no matter what season of life you’re in.
Unfamiliar Passage Read Isaiah 40:9-13.
*(A Sample Devotion from Refresh Your Faith, Uncommon Devotions from Every Book of the Bible by Lori Hatcher)
Do you think of a formal church service? Maybe a girl’s name? If asked to define it, what would you say?
Those who grew up in Sunday School might remember the acronym: God’s Riches At Christ’s Expense. Maybe you’ve heard some other catchy definition. Maybe you really aren’t sure.
I’ve heard about grace my whole life (something for which I’m incredibly thankful). But amazing didn’t really describe how I felt about it.
I was a good girl. Sure, God had forgiven my sins – at five years old. But my kindergartener shortcomings didn’t seem all that significant. Even during my teen and young adult years, I never did anything too bad.
So the grace we discussed at church only seemed amazing when I heard stories about drug addicts and ex-cons coming to faith. For people like that, grace truly was amazing. For me, though, I just didn’t feel it. Not only did I not do the really bad stuff, I spent my life doing lots of good stuff – having daily quiet times, leading Bible studies, teaching my kids about Jesus…
Because of my goodness, the amazingness of grace was lost on me.
Until that good girl life crumbled and I couldn’t keep up with my checklist Christianity. In that season of survival when I had nothing good to offer God, I felt His favor like never before. Suddenly, I saw the repulsiveness of my self-righteous Christianity, the utter inadequacy of my good deeds to earn His smile.
Suddenly, I began to understand grace.
Through all those years of pride and performance-based faith, God knew the depths of my heart. He saw the judgment with which I looked at others. He recognized how unimpressed I was with His blood-purchased grace.
Yet He loved me.
That is the essence of grace.
For the self-righteous and the unrighteous, grace is the key to understanding our Father’s heart. It’s an inseparable part of His nature, the basis on which He relates to us.
If your view of grace leaves you uninspired, maybe a fresh perspective will jump-start your heart as it did mine.
Our pastor recently gave this definition:
If you imagine God’s face as He looks at you, what expression do you see?
Do you see Someone excited to lavish you with good gifts? Is He favorably disposed toward you? Do kindness and generosity radiate from His eyes? Do you feel Him drawing you close, not to give you tomorrow’s to-do list, but to just be? Be close, be loved, be renewed, be transformed…
Or do you feel it’s up to you to keep yourself close to Him, to make yourself want Him, to grow and produce fruit so He’ll be happy with you? Must you earn His grace by trying hard to be humble, or is humility merely the recognition that you can’t?
Grace is only grace if we don’t deserve it (for both unbelievers and those who know Him). It flows freely, abundantly, exponentially from the heart of our God.
“For from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace” (John 1:16).
Unexplainable, illogical, even scandalous by human standards, this grace is woven into every facet of our relationship with God.
You are deeply loved, daughter of grace. Your Father delights in you. He is lavish in kindness, abundant in power, persistent in His pursuit of your heart.
Grace is yours if you are His.
Rest in it. Revel in it. Run free in it.
What amazes you about grace? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.
Summer vacation, that is. The heat is forecasted to stick with us for a while yet. The kids are back to their studies and our weekly routine is becoming more…routine.
I’m not sure what happened to the lazy days of summer, but we didn’t see many of them this year. All three kids swam on our neighborhood swim team and had a blast. A six-times-a-week blast. Then our son started cross country with one, then two, now three practices a week. There were other activities as well, like VBS and STEM camp and playdates.
While the kids were busy, I spent a lot of time writing and even tackled a few painting projects. Our summer was definitely full.
But as the school year approached and I went into prep mode for our homeschool and co-op, I realized life was about to get even busier.
Not going to lie – I’ve had a few meltdowns trying to keep up with everything. One night I jolted awake, gasping for breath as I realized I was in the middle of a panic attack. It seemed strange, because I wasn’t mentally worried about anything. Yet the emotional stress of trying to juggle all my responsibilities was taking its toll.
The irony of my current writing project has not escaped my notice. I mean, really. I’m writing a book on soul rest. It seems I may have picked the wrong topic.
Until I remember that I’m writing it because I’m learning it.
Rest is on my heart because God’s teaching me to rest it in the middle of our everyday crazy. Things may not slow down, at least not for long. But Jesus’ invitation to “come rest” remains unchanged in each life season.
Here are a few things He’s teaching me on this crazy, busy road:
Soul rest takes returning
“Return to your rest, my soul, for the Lord has been good to you” (Psalm 116:7). In the busyness, it’s easy to become unsettled. To grow restless when life feels out of control or when our insides are knotted up for one reason or another.
Living from a heart of rest requires a choice – a conscious decision to cling to faith over feelings, to let God draw us back to Himself as our Source of peace.
Soul rest has a Source
The psalmist found rest in remembering God and we can, too. Right in the middle of life’s crazy, without waiting for things to calm down, we must remind our hearts of who God is:
He is abundantly good, even when life isn’t.
He responds to my prayers.
He is gracious, compassionate, and faithful.
He is infinitely powerful.
He’ll never call me where His grace won’t sustain me.
He’s already provided, in Jesus, everything I need to live the life to which He’s called me.
He loves me unconditionally and welcomes me to come running – freely, boldly, to Him.
He is, and always will be, for me.
The bottom line, I’m learning, is that soul rest is a walk of faith.
Whether I’m sitting at His feet in prayer or driving my kids to yet another lesson or practice, I can rest fully and freely in my relationship with Jesus. He never changes and His definition of me is constant, too.
When you know you’re relentlessly loved and fully accepted, life gets a whole lot easier.
That is the reality for every follower of Jesus. Will you join me in resting in this truth today?
How do you practice soul rest? I’d love to hear – please comment below to join the conversation! Or click here to join my email group and receive access to all the Bible Study printables in my free resource library.
Sunday night, hubby came home from a week-long business convention in Pennsylvania. We stayed busy while he was gone – the big kids went to STEM camp each day, our littlest enjoyed several play dates with her besties, and I wrote lots and lots of words. When the weekend rolled around, we were all more than ready for Daddy to be home.
Except that I wasn’t ready when he got home.
Dinner wasn’t done. The bathroom deep clean that had exploded into our bedroom wasn’t… well, cleaned up. The laundry sat where I’d left it, waiting to be put on hangers and hung in the closet.
How I wanted everything to be perfect when he walked in the door. But alas, real life got in the way.
And guess what? He didn’t care.
He just wanted to be with us. To hear about our week and tell us about his. To snuggle up close and enjoy the evening together.
As I bustled about the kitchen trying to hurry the cooking along, I remembered the story of another woman with whose life I so often relate.
Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her” Luke 10:38-42.
I so get Martha! She loved Jesus and wanted everything to be perfect for Him. That meal in the oven was an expression of her affection. She longed to make Him comfortable, to help Him feel at home.
Yet all Jesus wanted was her.
Her heart, her focus, her devotion – not shown through works done in His name, but through responding to His loving pursuit.
In contrast to restless Martha, there sat Mary — the picture of a quiet heart.
Yeah, there were unfinished chores to be done. But Jesus had arrived, and she had to be near Him.
Serving from a distance just would not do.
If He was sitting in the living room, that’s where Mary wanted to be. If He went to the dining room, you’d find her there. If He walked outside, she’d join Him there, too.
Mary was preoccupied with Jesus.
The Bible mentions this Mary several other times – once at Lazarus’ tomb, where she brought her grief to Jesus just before He raised her brother from the dead, and again at a dinner party, where she anointed His feet with expensive perfume as an act of worship*.
In both scenarios, Mary went where Jesus was. She loved Him and needed Him, so she ran to Him with zero hesitation.
Oh, God, give me such a heart! May I never be content with days full of service yet absent of connection with You. Teach me to cultivate Your presence, both in my “daily quiet times” and in middle of my everyday crazy.
How about you? How do you practice the presence of God? In what ways do you cultivate a quiet heart? I’d love to hear – please leave a comment below!
Well, sort of. We went to the zoo, where we saw some very exotic animals.
It rained a little during our drive in, but the light drizzle cleared up before we left the parking lot. The sun came out a few hours later and bathed the animals and their habitats in brilliant light.
As we rode a tram to another side of the zoo, however, we noticed ominous black clouds literally splitting the sunny sky in two.
I wonder which direction those are heading? I mused.
Within minutes of arriving at our destination, the sky opened and a downpour began. Thankfully, we had just reached a pavilion, where we waited out the storm.
After the showers let up, a beautiful rainbow streaked across the darkened sky, reminding us of the God who keeps His promises.
Life is a lot like our experience at the zoo. Sometimes storms come out of nowhere. Other times they spend a long time building up their fury. Either way, we’re often left scrambling for shelter.
I’ve faced a few such storms recently. Oh, how thankful I am for God my refuge.
“God is my refuge and my strength, a very present help in trouble” Psalm 46:1.
Always near and abundantly available, Jesus is a secure shelter for all who come to Him in faith. He’s also the strength we need to face those storms and whatever lies on the other side of them. And always, as yesterday’s rainbow reminded me, He is working to bring good out of every difficulty we face (Romans 8:28).
Because God shelters, strengthens and protects us, we can “be still and know that [He] is God…The [God of angel armies] is with us; the God of Jacob is our stronghold” (Psalm 46:10-11).
In what ways do you need God to be your refuge today? From what storms do you need a shelter? What weakness makes you desperate for Christ’s strength (2 Corinthians 12:9)?
Everyone in the Mills house woke up tired from a busy weekend. And busy weekends make for long Mondays.
The kids and I took a field trip which involved a lovely nature walk in the autumn-colored woods. An impending thunderstorm held off and the temperature was perfect.
The humidity, however, was intense. I wore rain boots instead of hiking boots so by the halfway point, I was exhausted. That halfway point happened to be at the bottom of a hill and the hike back seemed much longer than the hike in.
After a morning of learning about wildlife and preservation efforts, we headed home where a messy house greeted us and screamed of work that needed to be done. My afternoon to-do list didn’t include all the kiddo needs that arose, and I failed to handle those “interruptions” with grace.
It was not a good day.
As I look back on it, however, I see much for which to be thankful, so many things to slow down and savor, even in the chaos of the day.
Surely I could have done better.
But I didn’t. I didn’t live the day well.
Maybe it’s because I neglected to keep coming back to Jesus. I forgot that on my own I can’t do better. I can’t chose patience, grace or gratitude without staying connected to Christ, without yielding my heart and expectations to Him in each moment.
“And He will be the stability of your times, a wealth of salvation, wisdom and knowledge. The fear of the Lord is his treasure” Isaiah 33:6.
Underneath the shifting sands of emotional ups and downs, God is the bedrock for our souls. He offers the stability of His unchanging heart and faithfulness of character.
He’s the steady Source of everything I need in every moment – salvation from the sins that tempt me, wisdom when I don’t know how to parent, knowledge of His heart when I lose sight of His face – all these things in abundant measure.
In big struggles and little frustrations, God understands. He offers wisdom and grace for each one – and new mercies with every rising sun.
Stability in unstable times – this is God our treasure.
How has God been your stability this week? In what ways do you need Him to be your unchanging Rock today? Please comment below – I’d love to hear.
I’m not sure what happened to the lazy days of summer, but we didn’t see many of them this year. All three kids swam on our neighborhood swim team and had a blast. A six-times-a-week blast. Then our son started cross country with one, then two, now three practices a week. There were other activities as well, like VBS and STEM camp and playdates.
Dinner wasn’t done. The bathroom deep clean that had exploded into our bedroom wasn’t… well, cleaned up. The laundry sat where I’d left it, waiting to be put on hangers and hung in the closet.
