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)
Have you ever played Twenty Questions with a stranger?
Last fall, a new friend on Instagram invited me to participate in an interview — twenty questions about life and faith and my relationship with God. It took me until Christmastime to return my answers — they weren’t quick and easy! A lot of other interviewees were in line ahead of me, but this week the interview went live.
Questions ranged from “What’s on your nightstand right now?” to “What are your top three tips for staying spiritually strong?”
Here’s my favorite question, along with my answer:
“What do you want people to learn about God when they look at you?”
“When people see my life and hear my story, I hope the relentless love of God comes to the forefront in dazzling splendor. I pray they sense the still, small voice of God whispering His delight over them and graciously drawing them closer to His heart.”
If you’re curious about the rest of the interview, I’d love for you to hop over to Modern Witnesses
For several months, I’ve been very intentional about writing regularly, trying to post here on a weekly basis. But last week, I chose not to write. At all.
God told me not to.
I had lots of work to do – A book proposal waiting to be revised, a book in process, a weekly blog post, a monthly contribution to Just18Summers and another article to complete by the end of the month.
Clearly, I didn’t have time to take the week off.
But God showed me that writing had become an idol.
An Idol.
It’s a rather church-y word, one that’s lost much of its meaning to modern American Christians. We read about idols throughout the Bible, but they can seem like distant relics of the past or an unfamiliar element of cultures somewhere else in the world.
Maybe we need to rethink the word.
Maybe addiction is more relevant to our modern minds.
Unlike statues of gold, addictions can be much harder to recognize, but they’re just as insidious.
Some addictions are big and ugly and obvious. But most of them aren’t. Most start as good gifts, designed by God for our enjoyment and use.
But they become addictions when we find our identity in them.
When we panic at the thought of losing them – even temporarily.
When we can’t stop thinking about them.
When we look for comfort, peace or healing in them.
When they drive and control us.
That’s what happened with my writing. I had taken it up as a hobby several years ago. It was a refreshing way to process my thoughts and emotions and a means of sharing with others what God is doing in my life.
But I’ve grown to love the feeling of completing a piece and meeting a deadline. I get excited when I hear how God ministered to someone through my words. I enjoy reading comments and feedback.
Those good things, however, took root in my heart and seeped into my identity. They began driving and controlling me like a task-master.
What started as a good gift became an addiction, an idol.
When God showed me this, I asked Him what to do about it. Not all idols can, or even should, be completely discarded. I’ve wrestled with a food addiction for much of my life, but I certainly can’t quit eating.
As I prayed, Jesus reminded me of this verse: “…Take every thought captive to obey Christ”2 Corinthians 10:4-5
Just as my thoughts need to obey Jesus, the gifts I’ve received need to be under His control as well.
My writing needs to obey Jesus – the time I spend on it, the projects I undertake, the very words I say.
My eating habits should obey Jesus – what I eat, when I eat, how much I eat.
My parenting ought to obey Jesus – how I speak to my kids, the way I train and discipline them, the activities we chose to do as a family.
My role as a wife needs to obey Jesus – how I talk to and about my husband, how I respond to him, the priority I give our relationship.
My people-pleasing personality should obey Jesus, so that His pleasure is my heart’s desire and satisfaction.
My use of time needs to obey Jesus.
Absolutely every area of my life needs to obey Jesus.
Because this is what following Him is all about – my whole self living in full surrender to the God who invites me to find rest in Him. Rest from the idols that drive me, rest from the law that condemns me, rest in Christ’s work and rest in the nearness of God.
While idols and addictions consume those who cling to them, Jesus offers the abundant life for which our souls were created. (See John 10:10.)
How about you? Are there any idols lurking in the shadows of your soul? Any addictions strangling your abundant life?
God loves us too much to let us continue worshiping at the feet of things that will destroy us. Will you bring your idols to Him and let Him show you how to bring them under His control?
I’d love to hear your thoughts and comments! Please respond below.
Like millions of other people, we traveled into the totality zone of the Great American Eclipse. We spent the afternoon camped out in the heat, hanging with some of our dearest friends, eating Moon Pies and Sun Chips and Cosmic Brownies.
A sense of anticipation hung in the air as the sun and moon aligned.
From behind our super-cool (ahem, functional) glasses, we watched the sun grow smaller bit by tiny bit until only a sliver remained visible.
And then it happened. The event everyone’s been talking about – the moment of total eclipse.
It nearly took my breath away.
Light radiated in all directions from the enormous dark spot in the sky. For nearly two minutes, heaven and earth seemed to stand still.
We saw what is normally imperceptible to the human eye – the sun’s corona. On normal occasions, the corona goes unseen because its light is so much dimmer than that of the sun’s surface.
But yesterday during the eclipse, we saw the radiant crown of the sun.
Life is a lot like that. Sometimes it takes an eclipse – a deep, dark shadow, to see the dazzling glory of the heavenly Son and to know Him in previously unexperienced ways.
It’s easy to enjoy God when life is bright and happy. Brilliant beyond words and more dazzling than our sun, the light of Jesus fills every corner of our earth. Unsurpassed in beauty, unrivaled in strength – this is our God. He rejoices the hearts of His children and fills our lives with good things.
But sometimes sorrow eclipses our God. Life can get so dark we seem to lose sight of Him. We may even forget what He looks like or wonder if He’s been a figment of our imaginations.
But there in the darkness, in the quiet place of our pain, God waits to reveal His heart to us. He invites us to experience His tenderness and find depths of comfort of which we’ve only ever heard tale.
Like the sun’s corona during an eclipse, God can be seen in breathtaking beauty during our darkest hour.
Has life eclipsed your God? Have you lost sight of His goodness and love for you? Have faith, fellow Jesus lover. Just as the sun is unchanged though hidden by the moon, our God is unchanging and constant.He delights in you. His love is steadfast and His tender mercies are new every morning.
How have you experienced Jesus’ beauty during dark times? I’d love to hear – please comment below!
A frantic scream broke the afternoon stillness. I immediately tried to diagnose the sound – my littlest was either angry or hurt. Following the direction of the crying, I found her in her daddy’s arms. He was carrying her toward the bathroom where he would wash and dress the cut she’d received when her foot was under the door she tried to close.
She was crying hysterically, writhing against the strong arms that held her.
She was in pain.
She was mad.
She was afraid.
She didn’t want to be carried by the “doctor.” She didn’t want him to clean it. And she certainly didn’t want a Band-Aid. (Unlike most kids, she seems to think Band-Aids contribute to her pain.)
But despite her efforts to resist, her daddy did what was best for her. He cleaned and doctored the little cut, all the while assuring her of his love.
After she calmed down, we had a heart-to-heart talk. I asked her the following questions –
“Do you trust your daddy? Does Daddy take good care of you? Does he love you? Protect you? Want the best for you?” She answered yes to each question, slowly realizing that her daddy’s actions had come from his love for her.
As we talked, I was struck by how very much this child is like her mother. I often respond to my heavenly Daddy in similar ways.
I get angry when life hurts, as if the pains of this human existence are His fault.
I sometimes pull away when He draws me close for comfort.
I doubt His intentions – His love and His goodness.
I’m afraid of His efforts to cleanse, heal and protect.
I want to leave the pain alone, instead of submitting to His cleaning, healing hands.
As a mother, I saw my baby girl’s situation so clearly – her daddy loves her and would do what was best for her, not matter how she fought him. And yet it could have been a moment of tender comfort and affection, if she had trusted her daddy’s heart.
As a follower of Jesus, I want to trust His heart.
It’s a matter of faith.
“…I took them up in My arms. But they did not realize I was the one who took care of them. I led them with kindness and love. I was to them like a person who lifts a little child to their cheek. I bent down and fed them” (Hosea 11:3-4).
“The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty One who will save; He will rejoice over you with gladness; He will quiet you by His love; He will exult over you with loud singing” (Zeph 3:17).
“And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose” (Rom 8:28).
“’For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future’” (Jer 29:11).
The One who takes care with kindness and love.
He is a good, good Father. His intentions toward us are kind (see Eph 1). He heals and gives restoration. He brings beauty out of ashes. He creates mosaic masterpieces out of broken, shattered lives.
All He does is good.
I want to trust Him. I choose to trust Him. Will you?
How do you remind your heart of truth when doubts flood your soul? Do you have a favorite Bible verse that comforts and reassures you in times of pain? Please join the conversation! I’d love to hear!