That’s how I’ve felt this year more times than I can count. Other than journaling, I’ve written very little.
I’ve experienced all the feelings – fear, contentment, anxiety, peace, sorrow, happiness, disappointment, hope. Processing rogue emotions with Jesus and landing back on solid ground has felt like a full-time job.
But hindsight is 20/20, they say (whoever they are.) As I look back on the past 364 days, three things have become unmistakably clear to me.
2020 has been hard.
Sometimes we Christians avoid speaking candidly about negative things. We fear being coined a complainer or labeled as someone who’s selfish or has weak faith. We even shy away from bringing raw emotions to God because we know He wants us to be grateful and to trust Him in both good times and bad.
But an honest acknowledgement is often the first step in processing our emotions, confronting our doubts, and moving deeper in our faith – a depth we’ll never experience if we simply gloss over our struggles.
2020 has been hard. We’ve all felt the sting of cancelling long-anticipated plans. We’ve been lonely, stir crazy as the hours tick by in the walls we’re mandated to stay within.
Our family lost a friend we loved as our own and the tears just come up without warning. We’ve self-quarantined three times, on top of the state-wide shut-down which grounded us all this spring. We’ve endured the discomfort of the covid19 test four times more than we’d like. We’ve worried about paying the bills during weeks when my husband has had to stay home.
This year has had more than its share of anxiety, disappointment, and pain.
But ours is a gracious God, slow to anger and abounding in loyal love and faithfulness (Exodus 34:6). He understands our feelings because He’s felt them, too – both as an emotive God and more specifically, as the God-man who walked among us for thirty-three years. He can sympathize with our weakness, our heartache, and our discouragement.
He invites His own to come to Him boldly and pour out everything stirring in our souls.
Will you take Him up on His invitation?
2. 2020 has seen God “up to great good.”
Midway through the pandemic, I enjoyed a phone meeting with my dear mentor. We talked about the hardships and frustrations we’d faced that spring and then she said, “But God is up to great good here.”
Our conversation screeched to a halt as I paused to consider her words. It wasn’t the first time I’d heard her say that. It’s kind of like her mantra. But I’d lost sight of it in the mess of 2020. I asked her to help me see some good, because my faith was anything but strong at that moment.
She told me a story or two of lives she’d seen touched by the redemptive power of God’s presence. Her faith bolstered mine and my vision improved.
It wasn’t long before I, too, could see God’s goodness weaving through our year – His work in drawing our family closer, His nudge toward slowing down, His miracles in meeting our physical needs and watering the seeds of my kids’ faith.
Sometimes we need a good friend to help us refocus when our own lens of faith goes fuzzy.
Who is that friend in your life?
If you don’t have such a friend right now, it’s okay – God is the Friend who sticks even closer than family. He’ll gladly point out His goodness if we ask Him.
3. 2021 has a clear forecast.
Even as I type those words, I struggle to believe they’re true. Humanly speaking, the year ahead looks like storm clouds and more rain. Our troubles aren’t going to vanish when the clock strikes midnight.
But as Jesus-followers, we’re not limited to our human perspective. Thank goodness, because fear tends to suffocate my soul if I look too long through my own lenses.
As we turn our hearts toward Jesus and seek shelter near His heart, He readjusts our focus to see more of what He sees.
Here’s the clear forecast for 2021:
God won’t change. We can anchor our souls to the reliability of His character and His Word.
God will always be up to great good. Whatever troubles come, Jesus is greater and in Him, we overwhelmingly conquer.
God won’t forget us or leave us on our own. His wisdom, His power, His very presence are available to us every moment of every day.
As we step into this near year, let’s set our hearts anew to seek this God whose nearness is our good (Psalm 73:28). More than anything, we need Him.
I’m planning to set aside a day (or portion of a day) in January to get alone with God. In case you’d like to do this, too, check out “Planning a Retreat with God” in my Freebie Library to help you make the most of that time.
He’s never been hunting a day in his life, but he dreams that someday he will go. Recently, he told his daddy he wishes they could go moose hunting in Alaska. (I mean, why not start big?)
We’re city people so when my boy wears his camo, it’s more for fashion than functionality. He loves the style, and I love him for it. For many people, though, camouflage has very practical purposes, providing the element of disguise and preventing the person from being seen.
As I type these words, we’re several weeks into a statewide lockdown due to the spread of the coronavirus. My husband has been off work for the past three weeks. And as a family, we’re each dealing with various emotions and grieving significant disappointments.
For us, this is a time of weakness.
We can’t predict what tomorrow holds. Any semblance of control has been stripped away. We trust that God will give us our daily bread (Matthew 6:11), but if I’m being honest, I like the idea of monthly bread better. I prefer a stocked pantry and a sufficient bank account.
I don’t like this emotional roller coaster of the what-ifs that so often invade my mind. Yet repeatedly during these days, God impresses on my heart that it’s good to be in need.
These are camouflaged blessings, these weaknesses which remind us we need God.
Paul understood this reality when he declared, [God] said, ‘My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.’ So now I am glad to boast about my weakness, so that the power of Christ can work through me.” (2 Corinthians 12:9, NLT).
Uncertain days are rich with opportunities for God to show up. A life outside our control reminds us of the good God who’s always in control. Let’s embrace the eternity hidden in these days and point our kids to the God who still works miracles.
Here are some practical tips:
• Pray for awareness
Several months ago, before the Coronavirus became a pandemic, I asked our kids how they’ve seen God answer prayer. Pondering the silence that met my question, I realized how infrequently we pray about specific needs. We pray generally for missionaries and for salvation for the lost. But when we need something, we often look for ways to meet it ourselves. I began asking God to make us aware of our needs so we can see Him working as our provider.
Prayerfully take inventory of your needs—physical, emotional, and spiritual. Make a list or write down each item individually on index cards.
• Talk to God about each need
Using that list or those index cards, pray as a family about each item. Ask for His perspective and for the Holy Spirit’s guidance as you pray.
• Anticipate His provision
Remind yourself of His promises. Here are a few of my favorites:
“And my God shall meet all your needs according to the riches of His glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19, NIV.)
“…Your Father already knows your needs. Seek the kingdom of God above all else, and He will give you everything you need.” (Luke 12:30-31, NLT).
“You will be enriched in every way so that you can be generous on every occasion…” (2 Corinthians 9:11, NIV).
Write down your favorite verses and display them around the house for encouragement. Choose to worship Him as you wait—singing your favorite praise songs, thanking Him for the blessings He’s already given, remembering what you know to be true of Him.• Reach out to others in need
There’s great joy in serving other people as a family, even when we have our own needs. Ask God to point out ways He wants to use you to invest in the lives of others. Pray for those needs and serve however in whatever ways He leads.
Our greatest needs are often camouflaged blessings, setting the stage for God to work powerfully on our behalf. Let’s seize these opportunities to grow closer to Him as a family. Let’s remind ourselves of His trustworthiness and walk by faith in these uncertain times.
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)
The question tugged at the corners of my soul as I trudged through each day. A dark cloud hovered over every waking moment. And sleep? That was a struggle, too. I had one bed-wetter and another child with night-terrors, so the sleep I did get was often fragmented and restless.
How I hated mornings. I dreaded facing a new day.
How can I be a good mom when I feel so sad, so weary, so…depressed?
(For the rest of the story, hop over to CBN where I’m sharing today about my walk through depression and the hope I’ve found along the way.)
As always, I’d love to hear your thoughts and welcome you to join the conversation by leaving a comment below.
Panic gripped my heart as I read the text from my sister –
“Emergency Alert: Ballistic missile threat inbound to Hawaii. Seek immediate shelter. This is not a drill.”
My sister and her family moved to Hawaii three weeks ago. Just in time to enter the path of a ballistic missile.
I fought back tears while searching Google for any sign this might be a mistake. Thankfully, I found tweets calling it a false alarm, and within minutes my sister confirmed the alert had indeed been an error.
Relief replaced fear as I thought of what could have been.
These are crazy times, crazy scary times, in which we live. How easy it would be to spend our days in fear or negativity. And we’d have good reason to live that way, except for one thing.
We belong to the God of hope.
Hope.
What a beautiful, life-giving, fear-quenching word. Used nearly 150 times in Scripture, hope is central to our faith in Christ.
“This hope is a strong and trustworthy anchor for our souls. It leads us through the curtain into God’s inner sanctuary” (Hebrews 6:19, NLT).
No situation, no tragedy, no uncertainty, no problem, no sin can change who our God is – merciful and gracious, all-powerful and perfectly pure. He Himself is our hope, the anchor of our souls in every storm we’ll ever face. And He’s always at work – in good times and bad.
In this hope I rest, secure in the love and goodness of God lavished on me though Jesus.
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But I know I won’t face it alone.
The God who holds eternity in His hands, who keeps the stars shining and the earth in orbit – that’s my God. He loves me and is always with me. He’s washed me clean in His blood. He’s made me forever His child. And one day, He’ll right every wrong and make all things new.
This hope – it’s the anchor of my soul.
How about you? If you know Jesus, how does your friendship with God give you hope? What does that look like in everyday life? I’d love to hear!
The God who holds eternity in His hands, who keeps the stars shining and the earth in orbit – that’s my God. He loves me and is always with me. He’s washed me clean in His blood. He’s made me forever His child. And one day, He’ll right every wrong and make all things new.