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)
Two weeks ago, our littlest learned to ride her bike.
She’d been on bicycle-riding strike for several months, ever since her daddy took her training wheels off. He knew she was ready and hoped a gentle push would help her learn to ride on her own. For a while, she wasn’t having it. Until two weeks ago, when she finally decided to give it a try.
And she got it.
She was so ready. On Monday she rode several feet without help. On Tuesday she learned to turn the bike around in one smooth-ish motion. On Wednesday she perfected starting and stopping. And by the weekend, she was riding like a pro.
As I watched my husband coach her on bike-riding safety, one of his comments struck a chord in my heart. “Don’t look at the building you’re trying to avoid, or you’ll run into it. Keep your eyes on where you’re going.”
I needed that advice.
Because right now, I’m awfully tempted to stare at the madness surrounding us. I literally had to talk myself out of panicking during a recent trip to the grocery store. All those empty shelves. All those scurrying people. The what-if’s pressed in and with them, the fear.
I’ve never experienced uncertainty to this level before.
There’s nothing like a worldwide pandemic to make me realize how much I worship comfort and normality. To help me see that my soul’s peace is tangled up in predictable circumstances and a sense of being in control.
As the country started shutting down, I grabbed my journal and began processing my roller coaster emotions with God. After I poured out my heart to Him, He led me to Hebrews 12:1-3:
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart” (emphasis mine).
In these unstable times, God is calling His beloved ones to fix our attention on Jesus.
In the Bible’s original Greek, fixing one’s eyes means
“To turn the eyes away from other things and fix them on something.”
I don’t know about you, but my feelings have run the gamut over the past two weeks. I’ve been confused, afraid, and overwhelmed. I’ve felt happy to stay at home and thrilled with the extra family time. I’ve been bored, depressed, and restless. Today I’m just plain weary.
Lots of things are vying for our attention.
So like my little bicyclist with her gaze straight ahead, I’m choosing to glance at what’s going on around and within – listening to the news reports, heeding the CDC’s directives, working through my emotions with God – but then I’m turning my heart’s focus back to Jesus.
Not that it’s easy. But it is a conscious choice. One that takes coming back to, day after very long day, moment after mundane moment.
Because really, how we walk through these days is a matter of faith.
Will we choose to bring our fears and our feelings to God? Will we hold onto the promises of His Word? Will we focus on Jesus and trust His heart and His plan?
He alone can anchor our souls through this storm. So right now, let’s guide our hearts back to rest by looking at Jesus (See Psalm 116:7):
He has the final say, despite unpredictable viruses and even human free will (1 Peter 3:22).
Let’s fix our eyes on Jesus and step boldly into each new day, knowing our God is for us (Romans 8:31), and with us (Matthew 28:20), and in us (1 John 4:4).
What other qualities of Jesus are you resting in right now? I’d love to hear! Please comment below.
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?
Numbness presided over my heart. Things that used to bring joy now seemed empty and hollow. Routine tasks overwhelmed me with paralyzing force. I didn’t want to go out, didn’t want to do fun activities with my kids and especially didn’t want to talk about how I was really feeling.
Depression carries such a stigma. If I admitted my daily struggle, I feared people would see me as weak or unspiritual. They might lecture or give unhelpful help. They might judge me.
Oh, what a prison depression can be. It’s like walking through a deep, dark valley with insurmountable cliffs towering high above, blocking out any ray of light or hope for escape.
I’ve spent time there and come out the other side. May I share with you what I learned?
Get real with God.
Jesus calls Himself “the God of hope” and invites us to pour out our hearts to Him.
“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” Romans 15:13 ESV
“Trust in Him at all times, O people. Pour out your heart before Him. God is a refuge for us.” Psalm 62:8 ESV
His heart is kind and full of compassion, not condemnation. He can handle our pain and is not disappointed when we struggle. He is still a miracle worker and healer of hearts.
Let others in.
It’s hard to own this struggle, but admitting our need and asking for help is a huge step in the healing process. Maybe it’s a trusted friend or a prayer group that can lift us up before God. Maybe it’s a doctor who can evaluate things from a medical perspective.
Do something for yourself.
This may sound selfish, but sometimes it’s the healthiest, most unselfish thing we can do. We can’t pour into the lives of others if our own tank is on empty. Find something that gives you rest, even enjoyment, and make room for that in your life.
Progress, not perfection.
The day may seem daunting, the job overwhelming. Instead of striving for perfection, aim for progress and rejoice in each step.
Our God is patient as He forms Christ in us. He is not in a hurry, nor is He disappointed that we’re not further down the road to recovery. Becoming like Jesus is a life-long process that God is committed to completing.
“And I am sure of this, that He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Philippians 1:6 ESV
Depression is a cruel companion, but it does not define us. We are not helpless victims, but treasured children of an all-powerful God. He is always close at hand and has made us more than conquerors through His unconditional love.
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)?
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.