Empowered by the Spirit (freebies and a giveaway!)

They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” ~Luke 24:32 Have you ever had one of those moments? Where you’re going about your ordinary business, trying to make sense of things, when all of a sudden it feels ...

Read More

They asked each other, “Were not our hearts burning within us while he talked with us on the road and opened the Scriptures to us?” ~Luke 24:32

Have you ever had one of those moments? Where you’re going about your ordinary business, trying to make sense of things, when all of a sudden it feels as though your heart is on fire? When the hope wells up and overflows? When emotions are high and everything feels possible?

When you know—just know—that God is near?

This verse from Luke kept running through my mind as I read Suzanne Eller’s new book, The Spirit-Led Heart.

I have always connected closely with the idea of the Holy Spirit. Maybe it’s because I go to a Pentecostal-ish church and we operate by the Spirit, seeking after Him, not making excessive plans for the service but instead trying to connect and follow the Spirit. Maybe it goes back to the early, exciting days of my faith, when God opened my eyes to see Him in new ways, and I devoured books like Catherine Marshall’s The Helper. Whatever the reason, the minute I heard the name of Suzie Eller’s new book, I knew that it would be one that would be important to me.

When I had the chance to be an early reader, I jumped at it, and even so, it exceeded my expectations. It’s one thing for someone to inspire you, and Suzie is one person I watch and learn from. She’s the real deal, and I’ve learned to trust her guidance because I’ve seen how she truly lives her faith and always points people back to Him. She tries to never get in the way but to do her part and then get out of the way and let the Holy Spirit do the rest.

But it goes deeper than that. This book woke up my spirit again. It reminded me why I love my God like I do. It reminded me of how the Spirit enlightens and informs and encourages and empowers. And it made me realize how much I was shortchanging myself by not embracing the Spirit in every step that I take.

It showed me that I may be walking that road to Emmaus, just as the disciples in the book of Luke, and I may be talking about God, but so often I find myself oblivious to Jesus’ presence and forget that He is RIGHT HERE. RIGHT NOW.

Here’s the promise: that God is near. And WITH GOD, all things are possible. The gift of the Spirit isn’t something for a select few—it’s a treasure that we can open again and again, every single day. It will shape every moment and change the way we live.

When I finished reading, I asked Suzie if she would consider allowing me to design my May prayer prompt calendar around themes from The Spirit-Led Heart. Graciously, she said yes.

So this month, as always, I’m sending you a prayer prompt calendar to help jump-start your prayers for the month. But this time it feels different to me. The gift Suzie gave to me when I read her inspired words is impossible to measure or quantify, but it was huge. By offering this calendar to you, I hope that I am offering you so much more than another colorful piece of paper. And when I recommend this book to you, I hope you believe me when I say this is not a lukewarm recommendation. I’m not supporting the book’s message out of obligation or charity. I’m involved with it because it changed things for me, and it has the potential to do the same for you.

So right after you download the calendar for May, I hope you’ll click over to Amazon (or your favorite bookseller) and order a copy or two. Ask God to show you who you should share them with. Give yourself this gift and let the book open up discussions about the Holy Spirit with your friends and family.

DOWNLOAD THE CALENDAR HERE
and then read on to enter a GIVEAWAY and get some awesome freebies!

If you order the book before May 1 (the release date), Suzie is offering some awesome pre-order bonuses on her website.

  1. Two chapters delivered immediately to your inbox so you don’t have to wait to get started reading
  2. A gorgeous printable Spirit-Led Heart Manifesto
  3. Be entered to win full registration fee to Suzie’s fall women’s retreat (I’ve been and it is awesome!)
  4. And, of course, the printable 30-day Spirit-Led Heart prayer calendar designed by yours truly (which you can get anyway since you subscribe to my newsletter)

The details of how to get your downloads are on her website, too.

Also, I’m giving away two copies of this book! To enter to win, simply tag a friend on Facebook below my post about this and say why you want her to read the book or download the calendar. If you’re not on Facebook, print an extra copy of the calendar to share with a friend and comment below this blog post telling me you did so. If your name is drawn, I will mail you twocopies of the book (one for you and one for your friend), along with print-outs of this month’s prayer calendar. Deadline to enter is May 5 (date randomly chosen because 5 is the number of grace), so be sure to comment now so you don’t miss your chance to enter.

Lord, I pray for every person reading this prayer, that they may come to know the fullness of the power of Your Spirit. That they might embrace it and see You. I ask You to banish their fears and let them be confident in Your love. I implore You to empower them with supernatural power—inspire them, heal them, lead them, inform them. Love them as only You can love. Amen.

A Prayer for Those Who Are Moving Forward—like it or not

Last week, I hired movers to haul a ridiculous number of boxes filled with office supplies and art materials. They unloaded them in Ladoga, Indiana, in the building that was my dad’s studio. Some of you know that he was a professional watercolorist, and he worked out of his old, small-town-downtown storefront from 1990 until ...

Read More

Last week, I hired movers to haul a ridiculous number of boxes filled with office supplies and art materials. They unloaded them in Ladoga, Indiana, in the building that was my dad’s studio. Some of you know that he was a professional watercolorist, and he worked out of his old, small-town-downtown storefront from 1990 until this past summer. Losing him was devastating and heartbreaking and all that you would expect it to be.

I’ve had my ups and downs. This past couple weeks has seen more tears than usual, though, because for these past seven months, we’ve been trying hard to do things the way Dad would have—matting and framing his art, putting on a sale of his remaining pieces that he would have been proud of, steadfastly refusing to move a thing on his credenza. It was like if we didn’t disturb his brushes and paints, we could hold on to him a little longer.

But the truth is, we can’t get him back.

Nevertheless, when I hired a guy to repaint the walls (going from Dad’s country blue and tan to my bolder eggplant purple and warm gray), I felt like I was painting over him. Erasing his presence. When I moved his painting stuff out of the way of the painter, I fought tears, because it felt wrong to change things.

And then I came home and cried all night.

Sunday morning, as I stood in the second row of my church, I felt the words of the praise song wash over me. We sang the chorus again and again and I felt a kind of exhilaration rising up within me—hope, God’s promises of renewal. Quietly, I stood there, eyes closed, arms raised, thinking about moving forward. Wanting God to heal me, to make me new and whole again. To help me stop hurting.

We were singing the song “Moving Forward,” and it contains these lines:

I’m not going back, I’m moving ahead
Here to declare to you my past is over in you
All things are made new, surrendered my life to Christ…
Yes, you make all things new and I will follow you forward

I think when people talk about wanting to put their pasts behind them, they’re usually talking about their sins… Mistakes, what we’ve done wrong, destructive behavior. Regrets. We all have plenty of that. But what I realized Sunday morning is this: sometimes the past is behind us even if we don’t want it to be. I’d give anything to go back, for my dad to still be alive. But I can’t make that happen.

And although it’s tempting to try to hold on to that—to create a shrine to my dad, to tiptoe around his studio space and blow the dust off of his things that I’m refusing to move because of the fact that he was the one who put them there—it doesn’t bring him back. It doesn’t make me miss him any less. It doesn’t help me heal.

I feel like God showed me that being there, inhabiting that space in my own way, is part of my healing. That there’s healing in moving forward—in looking towards what God has for me, and not dwelling in the sorrow. It doesn’t mean I’ll stop missing him. It doesn’t mean I’m glad he’s gone.

It just means that God’s not done with me. I’m still here and there’s still hope. There’s still redemption. There’s still growth and joy and happiness. And they don’t only exist behind me, but they’re waiting for me when I take some small steps forward.

Oh, hey, what a moment you have brought me to
Such a freedom I have found in you
You’re the healer who makes all things new…

Lord, let the Holy Spirit wash over those who are reading this, who are listening to this song… soothe the hurts and heal the wounds of those who are missing someone. Who feel lost or alone. Who are sorrowful or paralyzed by their grief. You are with the ones we love. You are closer to them than we are, and we know they’re in good hands. We also know that those very same hands can hold us close and bring us comfort. Lord, hold us tight and don’t let us go, and let us find hope and empowerment and renewal with you. Amen.

Prayer is no excuse

The internet is collectively outraged at those offering weak platitudes (“our thoughts and prayers”) in the aftermath of the latest school shooting. (I hate that there’s a “latest.” I hate that these are commonplace.) And I get it. I write about prayer, and yet I’m right there with them. The thing is, for a Christian ...

Read More

The internet is collectively outraged at those offering weak platitudes (“our thoughts and prayers”) in the aftermath of the latest school shooting. (I hate that there’s a “latest.” I hate that these are commonplace.)

And I get it. I write about prayer, and yet I’m right there with them.

The thing is, for a Christian who really lives what he or she believes, prayer absolutely must come first. It’s the immediate response to a situation in which we need help. Or clarity. Wisdom, discernment, direction. Or hope, to save us from completely crumbling into a pit of despair. It’s how we draw near to the God whose very presence brings us comfort. The One who can somehow lead us through these incomprehensible moments in which it seems the world is insane and hateful and depraved.

But here’s the thing: Prayer does not excuse us from taking action.

Prayer should come first, if we believe what we say. If we have come to believe that Jesus is our shelter and our strength. And there’s nothing wrong with that.

But there is no excuse for stopping there. We still have to live in this world. We have to do what we can do to make it better. God hears us, He really does. But He uses His people to carry out many of His answers. He uses us to speak words of encouragement and hope to friends. He uses our arms to wrap around and hold close someone in the midst of tragedy and grief and suffering. He uses our minds to craft and implement solutions. He uses our passion to fuel us to make change, to find new and better ways to protect each other, sustain one another, connect with each other.

So, fine. Offer your thoughts and prayers. And I truly hope they are sincere. But know that that is not enough.

Ask for wisdom from the God who knows all, who feels our pain, who already knows ways we need to change. Ask for guidance in showing compassion and offering meaningful help. Ask for direction in channeling your anger and frustration and despair in productive ways that will keep this from happening every few days. (Every. Few. Days. This is outrageous.) Ask God to forgive us for letting things get to this point. Ask God to heal the minds and tortured souls who think shooting people is the answer to their pain. Ask God to show the gun lovers the distinction between guns for hunting and personal protection and guns that shatter the lives of countless innocent people, and to help our lawmakers find the right levels of compromise to protect those we love (those that God loves—every single one. There are no exceptions.).

Beg God to help us put a stop to this. To not let “another shooting” be so commonplace it doesn’t even slow us down as we scroll through our newsfeeds.

Lord, have mercy.

Time for something new

I don’t make a lot of changes with the new year. I consider resolutions, but don’t actually set them, because I feel like I’m just setting myself up for failure. I don’t do well at sticking to something for a long time. Self-discipline is an area in which I could stand to improve :-). At ...

Read More

I don’t make a lot of changes with the new year. I consider resolutions, but don’t actually set them, because I feel like I’m just setting myself up for failure. I don’t do well at sticking to something for a long time. Self-discipline is an area in which I could stand to improve :-). At the same time, though, I think it’s important to look for the new, because making changes to my prayer life is the only thing that has helped me work through so many of the stumbling blocks I’ve faced in my lifetime.

Because here’s the truth: God promised to make all things new. We are new creations in Christ. We put off the old and put on the new. The Bible is full of references… so let’s take this opportunity—the new year— to shake up our prayer lives, while we’re already thinking about new beginnings. My January Prayer Prompt Calendar is about trying new things, praying for those in the process of change, giving thanks for things that are new and things that are not.

Beware, though: in keeping with that idea, the dates are all out of order, and some are sideways or even upside down!

Click here to go to the Downloads page, where you can get your calendar for free by simply entering your email address. Then tuck it into your Bible, journal, or notebook, and start asking God to lead you in the new year.

While you’re here, though, will you enter my giveaway? You have until Saturday, Dec. 30 to leave a comment below to be entered in a drawing for this key necklace. In keeping with the idea of trying something new, I had a lovely friend make these for me—as a reminder to pray, perhaps even upside down! I’d love for you to share a tip or trick you’ve used to help yourself pray… but if you don’t have any suggestions, just leave your name and you’ll also be in the drawing for this necklace.

A prayer for when Christmas has lost its sparkle

Expectations abound at Christmastime. In every crowded store, colorfully-lit neighborhood, and Hallmark movie, sparkle and glitter and joy prevail. Marriages are miraculously saved, teenagers’ surly attitudes are softened, perfect gifts appear like magic under trees, generous strangers rescue people from financial worries, everyone sings happy songs, and goodwill is restored. In reality, though, some of ...

Read More

Expectations abound at Christmastime. In every crowded store, colorfully-lit neighborhood, and Hallmark movie, sparkle and glitter and joy prevail. Marriages are miraculously saved, teenagers’ surly attitudes are softened, perfect gifts appear like magic under trees, generous strangers rescue people from financial worries, everyone sings happy songs, and goodwill is restored.

In reality, though, some of us struggle this time of year. Since I lost my mom six years ago, and my dad this summer, I tend to feel sadness and loneliness more than I feel joy. Some of you may have lost spouses to death or divorce. You may have children who don’t spend time with you or demand too much of you, or parents who aren’t themselves (or are no longer there). Maybe your job requires you to work rather than worship, or you have so many past-due notices you could wrap presents with them—if you could afford to buy presents. Perhaps you’re jaded, knowing that, as a believer, Christmas should be spiritually significant, but your emotions are crowded out by material excess and a to-do list a mile long.

So when Silent Night seems like a quaint, far-off dream… when Deck the Halls provides pressure to be Pinterest-perfect… when O Holy Night feels, instead, commercial and crazy… won’t you pray along with me?


Dear Heavenly Father,

I feel like I have nothing worthwhile to give You, but all of my brokenness is taking up space that I’d rather fill with other things. So I offer You what little I have—my pain, sadness, grief, loneliness, fear, anxiety, worries, finances, broken dreams, shattered expectations, floundering relationships, lack of passion, messy home, scattered mind, and lack of focus—I let go of it all to make room for You. 

I know that You change the atmosphere of every place You inhabit, so I invite You to dwell here with me. When Jesus came to us 2,000 years ago, the world didn’t recognize the Savior, and no one made room for Him. But we have the privilege of understanding the enormity of the gift You gave us in this vulnerable little child. In this season of gifts, we know that Jesus is the One that matters.

So, precious Lord, I invite You in. As You abide in me, warm my heart from the inside out. Surround me with Your peace, comfort me with Your Spirit, whisper sweet thoughts into my mind.

Push aside all my worries and replace them with worship.

Replace fear with faith.

Stress with song.

Anxiety with awe.

Christmas is the time when love came near. So I’m stepping forward in faith, moving towards You, the One who loves me. The One who woos me, even when I’m not feeling it. The One who changes every life He touches. Hoping You will turn things around, I hold out my hands and trust in Your grace, which says You love me even if I don’t deserve it. Even if everything else in my life isn’t perfect.

I offer all that I have, what little I have to give, with abandon. And I trust that You know my heart—You know that I love You, and You know that I want to overcome this feeling of blah and instead live full of passion and joy.

Please, Lord, accept my invitation.

I welcome You back into my heart. In the place of all my imperfections, I instead receive Your wholeness. I release all of my expectations for a picture-perfect holiday and turn instead towards You, the reason we celebrate. The hope of glory. The promise of eternity. The miracle of new life.

The joy of the world.

And I marvel, because all of that—all that You are, all that You promise, all that You’ve done—is right here within me.

And suddenly I understand that the lights and the wrapping paper and the caroling are fine, but they fade in comparison to the sparkly wonder of who You are.

Merry Christmas, my sweet Lord. Thank You. And amen.


A version of this post originally appeared at Crosswalk.com.

Your answer may already be right next door

I’m giving away one gift every week this month. Be sure to read to the end to find out how to enter this week’s giveaway! It was one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given, and I’ve talked about it ever since. I even wrote a book about it. But can I let you ...

Read More

I’m giving away one gift every week this month. Be sure to read to the end to find out how to enter this week’s giveaway!

It was one of the best gifts I’ve ever been given, and I’ve talked about it ever since. I even wrote a book about it.

But can I let you in on a little secret? I don’t think I began to know what the gift really was until about ten years after I got it.

So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him. Matthew 7:11, NLT

Many of you have already heard some version of this story. In 2007, my husband and I decided to buy the house next door to the one my sister lived in. We weren’t looking for a new home, but this old house being put on the market by her elderly neighbor was everything we hadn’t realized we wanted until we saw it. On top of that, it was cheap. It needed tons of work—all-new electrical, ugly shag carpets removed to reveal hardwood floors, lots of wallpapers stripped and walls painted. But we knew we could renovate it, sell the old house, and make a profit. So we got to work. My dad and I rebuilt the kitchen and everyone in the extended family pitched in in some way. This new house was so much better suited for our family of five and my home office, and we felt God’s peace there.

We were certain God was in this.

And yet the old house would not sell.

Our credit card balances rose steadily, as did my stress. I’d sneak downstairs in the middle of the night, unable to sleep because of the financial disaster we were facing, and I’d cry along with the Psalmists. The bank wouldn’t refinance our mortgage, but my grandmother had loaned us the money to buy the new house—and she decided we didn’t need to pay her back. It was a gift. The house was a gift. (Spoiler alert: as amazing as that is, this isn’t the gift this story is about.)

After many months on the market but hardly any showings, we finally had one scheduled. As I vacuumed in my bedroom, I got real with God. “Lord, I don’t know what we’re going to do if we don’t sell this. We are going to be in real trouble.”

And, without even a hint of hesitation, God spoke to me. “Pray for the woman who will someday buy your house.”

I sat down on the bedspread in silence and awe. I’d heard from God. I knew I could hold on a little bit longer to help her, whoever she was. So I prayed. As I wrote my mortgage check every month, I mentally gave it to God. “This is my offering. I’m doing this for her.” I knew I could manage to go a little bit longer without selling the house as long as I knew God was in it, that He was at work. I believed with all of my heart that was true. So I put more stuff for the house on our credit cards, worked more, and prayed more.

And yet nothing happened for a long time. So we moved. We were declined when we tried to refinance our first mortgage. We anointed the house and prayed for all who would enter it.

And nada.

As we neared the two-year mark, a woman who’d looked at the house earlier came back with an offer that, while low, was one we had to consider. Even so, we couldn’t make it work—until our realtor waived his commission, we got a first-time-ever tax refund, and my mom gave me the rest so we could pay off the bank, at least—never mind the credit cards. Less than ideal, surely, but we felt we had to say yes.

I was like a sulky teenager. Even though I should have been rejoicing, all I could see was that it hadn’t happened like I had planned. And then I saw what God had done during that time in the life of Rosanne, the woman who bought the house, and I realized that He really had answered me. He used our house to answer so many of her prayers. And because I was praying for her instead of focusing on myself, I got to be part of it . When I really looked at the situation, I got to see what God really did.

There’s a lot more to the story, and you can read a little more here; it also became the basis for my first book, Praying Upside Down.

For years, I’ve been talking about this—about how sweet God is, that He brought Rosanne and I together as friends, that He cared enough about her to go to such lengths to provide just what she needed. And how He used the experience to launch my writing career.

But you know something? I was wrong. Maybe not completely, but I guess it’s safe to say, at the very least, that my understanding was woefully incomplete.

In late June, my dad went into the hospital with what we thought were AFib issues. After a few weeks, with my sister and I flying down to Florida for alternating weeks of being with him, surgery revealed cancer—everywhere. It was bad, and Dad didn’t have long. I was in Florida when the surgery happened, but by the time we realized that Dad was likely not to recover enough to come home by means of a regular mode of transportation, my sister Kerry was with him. As a nurse, she understood the situation intuitively and she made the call to have Dad flown back to Indiana via a med flight.

Because I lived next door, it was easy for me to oversee the setup of a room at Kerry’s house and to coordinate with the doctors on this end. I met the oxygen delivery people, set up hospice care, and arranged for delivery of the hospital bed, rolling tray table, and so on. I bought privacy curtains and all the random things we’d need to care for him there.

When Dad got here, he wasn’t doing very well. He was trying to recover from his surgery, deal with a pleurex drain, and the cancer was causing him a lot of pain. From the beginning, he needed someone with him at all times.

It was horrible. And yet it was the best possible scenario. I could walk across the driveway in my slippers, carrying my own coffee, and sit with Dad while he watched the Today show and dozed. While I was there, Kerry could shower and throw in some laundry. I stayed on the days she worked, and on her days off I came home to do my own work—switching off shifts to accommodate our various appointments. Our families shared meals, our kids could come see their Bebop in between activities, and Kerry, her husband Doug, and I took turns sleeping on a futon in Dad’s room each night.

For years, I’d believed that the whole story about selling my house was about seeing God’s answers to prayer, about a new friendship, about giving me insights and the opportunity to write about them. Still true. However, during those tumultuous and overwhelming three weeks before Dad died, I saw the true gift in it all: God was establishing Kerry and me next door to each other so that we would be able to care for Dad like we did. My dad kept saying, with a sense of wonder in his voice, “It’s so neat what you girls are doing here. Who would have thought it would work out like this?”

God knew. Ten years ago, He looked down the road and saw that the only way we could get through the incredibly exhausting and emotional time coming up was exactly the way we did. Side by side, helping each other out, seamlessly interchangeable.

Such a beautiful gift, and one that was planned years ahead of the need.

This is what is so amazing about our God. Nothing is wasted. He sees beyond our immediate needs and He puts answers in motion long before we even know to ask.

Sometimes it feels to me as though God has stopped answering prayers. And then He nudges me, points my thoughts in a new direction and lets me really see: The answers haven’t stopped. Some are still coming. Some look different than we expect. And some are only partially fulfilled—so far. There may still be layers yet to be revealed.

None of what is happening is a surprise to God. We just need to keep hanging on, confident that our God will keep giving to us good and precious gifts. And remember—we don’t necessarily need to look far and wide to find them—they may be waiting for us right next door.


To enter to win this sterling silver charm bracelet—hand-crafted by yours truly with blue and green stones and beads—leave a comment below. Tell us about a gift you remember that God gave you, a gift hidden within a gift, or simply leave a comment or prayer request. I’ll draw names to select a winner one week from today.

Joyful sorrow

I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. Jeremiah 31:13, NIV Those weeks before my dad died were a blur, a photo montage, like quick takes from a movie. Hourly care schedules, changing almost daily. Trading nights with my sister, sleeping (but not sleeping) on the futon ...

Read More

I will turn their mourning into gladness; I will give them comfort and joy instead of sorrow. Jeremiah 31:13, NIV

Those weeks before my dad died were a blur, a photo montage, like quick takes from a movie. Hourly care schedules, changing almost daily. Trading nights with my sister, sleeping (but not sleeping) on the futon in his room, alert to every movement my dad made in his sleep. Jumping up, once I finally started to doze, to comfort Dad that his dreams/hallucinations weren’t real. Sitting in the dark, holding his hand, trying not to let him see the tears.

The constant mental countdown to his next dose of oxycodone. The other mental countdown until morning, keeping track of how many hours I was unable to sleep. Meeting the hospice people, juggling the changes to his meds, listening to the oxygen machine drone on, taking his blood pressure and dutifully recording it in our book.

The mornings when I’d go over to have coffee and Dad would drift in and out of sleep, the Today Show playing way too loudly because he wasn’t wearing his hearing aids. His sweet personality showing in the way he’d compliment everyone who came in to care for him—even if it made him wince in pain. He even praised the oncologist, the one who told him he didn’t have much time, for his good bedside manner and his clarity in explaining things.

It was a time of constant motion during which my absolute physical exhaustion seemed to be at a level appropriate for the emotional turmoil I felt.

My mom died six years earlier, also from cancer, and I just didn’t think I had it in me to get through losing my dad, too. When Mom went, it felt like divine cruelty. But when Dad died, it was different. Every situation—every loss—is different, but I knew something this time that I hadn’t known before. I understood how big the pain would be, how it overtakes everything else, how it cuts you to the very core and cannot be resisted.

So this time I didn’t try to fight it. I absorbed it. I didn’t brace myself against its impact, but instead, let it wash over me. Through me. Fill me. I knew it would become a part of who I am forevermore so I didn’t bother to resist. I’d learned that grief is not something to “get over.” It is not something that goes away. It seeps in, changing the color and tone and very foundation of who I am, forevermore.

Yes, I’m changed by the loss of my dad, and that loss will come to partially define me. But more so, I’m defined by being his child in the first place. When Dad passed, it felt like compassion, not cruelty. I felt a kind of exhilaration that I never expected, a joy, and the “peace that surpasses all understanding” (Philippians 4:7).

Not having Dad here is hard—and yes, that’s an understatement. But sometimes it doesn’t feel as much like a loss as an addition to who I am. I wasn’t losing something, but adding something. I get to carry forward the traits of my dad that he planted in my genetic code. I get to live in a world that knew him, that respected and honored him, and share him with others who miss him too. I get to pick up where he let off. I get to take him forward with me as I move forward, which I inevitably will do—because there really isn’t a choice.

Because I’ve discovered that even in my grief, even in the face of my pain, there is joy to be found. Contentment. The soothing balm of faith. Glimpses of beauty even in times of sadness.

Joy isn’t only found in the sunshiny moments, in the happiness and cheerfulness of things going right. Even more beautiful is that which comes in the face of mourning, in the shadows of sorrow. Because when we can find joy in those ordinary and less-than-ideal moments, there is no doubt where it comes from. When we can see joy then, we know without a shadow of doubt that God is present.

And that is enough to make my heart rejoice.

Dear Lord, You are a compassionate God and You mourn when we mourn. But You also promise to turn our mourning into gladness. To give us comfort and joy to replace our sorrow. To be with us in every moment. Your very presence brings with it unexplainable, unspeakable joy. We praise You for this and ask You to be with those who are learning to live with a loss. Let them find beauty—let them see You—even in their pain. Because Your compassion is boundless and Your love is without end. Amen.


Join me over at Real Women Ministries for study questions and to continue this discussion—and while you’re there, check out this whole series. Lots of women being real… lots of inspiration to be found.

A month of gifts—and Talking to Jesus

If you read my post last week, you know that I decided to give away something each week during December. Last week it was a book called Over It! by Kristine Brown. Read to the end of this post for info about a giveaway of a copy of this new book, Talking to Jesus: A Fresh ...

Read More

If you read my post last week, you know that I decided to give away something each week during December. Last week it was a book called Over It! by Kristine Brown. Read to the end of this post for info about a giveaway of a copy of this new book, Talking to Jesus: A Fresh Perspective on Prayer, by Jeannie Blackmer.

I’ve written two books (and countless blog posts) about prayer, but it had been a while since I spent any focused time in prayer. So the other morning I searched high and low for my journal, which had gotten put away weeks ago and forgotten. After I found it and sat down in the quiet, I felt heavenly light shining down on me, and I just knew the Holy Spirit was there with me, and my eloquent, holy words tumbled over themselves as they poured onto the pages…

Except that wasn’t how it went at all.

I had nothing. NOTHING. I don’t feel like I’m in a “crisis of faith,” and I’m not mad at God, and I do believe prayer is important. But I sat there and my mind was a complete blank.

That day, my 17-year-old son was home with another headache. Three days in a row of missed school. I got the emailed updates of his grades, and he’s falling behind. When I try to remind him to do something, or—heaven forbid—inquire in the slightest way into his life, he snaps, “I’ve got it, Mom.” The truth is, I know he doesn’t have it together as much as he thinks he does. I do think he is capable, and I believe he has the best of intentions, and he is a really awesome kid. But I also know he gets stressed when he gets behind, and the stress triggers more migraines, and he misses more school, and gets farther behind, and so on. We went through this last semester (not a good experience) and his older sister has been battling migraines since she was 15, so even though my worries are for him (and her), they come with a bunch of residual stress for me. I’m the one who has to call in to school, get homework, negotiate doctors appointments and prescription refills and have my son take out his frustration on me.

On top of that, he had a bad wreck a couple weeks ago. Thank God he was OK—just some burns from the air bags—but he totaled the car. We had to find time to drive an hour to sign over the title and then find a replacement vehicle. The past few weeks have been busy and stressful, with a sale of the paintings my dad, a professional artist, left behind when he passed away this summer. Work deadlines. Lack of writing time. Financial decisions to be made. Several speaking engagements. Some travel.

It’s not all BAD stuff, just a LOT of stuff. I’m emotionally exhausted. Physically worn out.

And I sat there in the quiet feeling like a failure. Have I learned nothing? Am I a hypocrite? Why couldn’t I pray?

I looked at the pile of devotional-type books on the table beside me, and I picked up a brand new one, Talking to Jesus. Have you ever noticed that sometimes it’s easier to read about prayer than to actually pray? Maybe it’s just me.

Anyway, I started reading. As you might imagine, I love the topic of this book, so when I was given the chance to write a review, I jumped at it. However, I wondered if it would truly be a fresh perspective on prayer—after all, that’s how my books have been described, too. But I immediately discovered this is a different approach from mine in several ways:

  1. This is centered around the idea that prayer is nothing more than a conversation with Jesus—and because of that, any of the conversations people in the Bible had with Jesus qualify as prayer—and can be the basis for your own prayers.
  2. As Jeannie tells the stories (which all come from the book of Matthew), she fictionalizes each as a way to help the reader put herself in the story.
  3. Each short chapter (about 6 pages) ends with a few related scriptures for reflection as well as a few observation questions to help you apply the concept to your own life. The book is not long and intimidating; it’s a good size for a personal study or devotional workbook.

Jeannie’s motivation for this book was trying to find ways to pray on behalf of her teenage children. As she searched the Bible for tips, she realized some of the New Testament stories were about parents approaching Jesus on behalf of their children. As the parent of three children who are now 24, 21, and 17, believe me—I can relate to Jeannie’s desire to come to God on behalf of my kids (can’t you?). And I began reading right when I was faced with doing just that. But the approach isn’t limited to praying for your kids. It applies to all kinds of situations—facing doubt, praying for friends, feeling burnt out, having trouble forgetting… It’s comforting to be reminded that these same problems were faced by people in the time that Jesus was walking the earth. And to remember that just as Jesus answered them, He will answer us.

So that morning, I let these conversations others had with Jesus serve as a stand-in for my own prayers. And I felt a little less empty. A little more sure.

Because I was reminded that I don’t have to bring the faith to my relationship with Jesus. He has enough for both of us. All I have to do is show up.

So let’s pray together. My prayers are for my son (because that’s what’s been on my heart lately), but your prayer requests can be about anything.

Leave a comment below with the basic info about a prayer request you have, and you’ll be entered in a drawing for a copy of this book. Keep your comments vague to protect the privacy of those you’re praying for, but let’s go together to God and lift up these needs. Also, would you take a moment to pray for the comment before yours? It’s easy—all we have to do is talk to Jesus. Because it is in those interactions that we get to see who He really is. And we come to believe that He will do all He says He will do.

I’ll announce the winner next week… and tell you all about the sparkly bauble I’ll be giving away instead of a book!


Jeannie Blackmer was the publishing manager for MOPS International where she helped create more than 20 books for moms. Now she writes full-time and runs the blog for her church, Flatirons Community Church outside Denver, CO. She has spent the last 3 decades professionally writing everything from articles to press releases, and ads to several books. She has a passion for storytelling and spending time with her husband and three sons who are in their 20s.


 

Struggling with joy

I’m honored to be part of a devotional series at Real Women Ministries about finding joy in everyday life. Sign up to receive the complete series (which will last about a week) here. I was flattered when I was invited to participate in this devotional series as one of the writers. Honestly, I wasn’t feeling all ...

Read More

I’m honored to be part of a devotional series at Real Women Ministries about finding joy in everyday life. Sign up to receive the complete series (which will last about a week) here.


I was flattered when I was invited to participate in this devotional series as one of the writers. Honestly, I wasn’t feeling all that joyful, but that was OK. I figured I’d get past it. I kept moving the task forward on my to-do list, waiting for inspiration. Finally, it came—in the sense that my devo was due in two days and I needed to get off my rear end and write it.

So I wrote, and what I wrote was true. I’ve been in a rough season, a time of grief and stress, and “joyful” is not how I would describe it, but as I wrote, God reminded me of the reasons I have to feel joy. He reminded me who He is, and that joy is different than happiness. Happiness is fleeting, but joy comes from a much deeper place. A place of abiding in God. Of choosing to walk alongside Him even if the place you’re walking through isn’t all that pleasant.

When I hit “send,” I felt much lighter. More joyful.

And then one of the other writers posted in our private Facebook group about how she was struggling. She confessed that she didn’t feel joy right now and she was dreading writing about it. Several others chimed in immediately, full of understanding—because they’re struggling, too.

That’s when I decided to write another post – this one. Because if we’re all struggling—women whose ministry consists of encouraging other women and sharing God’s truths, women who were approached to share their insights about joy—then you probably are, too. Maybe you need to know you’re not alone. This isn’t a failing on your part. Your feelings don’t indicate a lack of faith or an absence of God.

The other thing is this: even when we weren’t feeling it initially, if some of us have been able to turn that around to find joy, you can too. Because I think living joyfully is a choice. It’s about focusing on what we know, not what we feel.

When we CHOOSE joy, we’re choosing to have faith. We’re choosing to trust. We’re turning away from our own fickle emotions and declaring that the bad stuff doesn’t define us. Evil, sadness, worry, misery, fear, darkness—those traps of the enemy do. not. win. Jesus does. Choosing joy is declaring that we’re not staying stuck in the muck and the mire but instead we’re believing God’s joy will dry the mud and pull us out of the pit we’ve fallen into.

So if you’re looking at this series and feeling like you do not belong here, do not despair. Joy IS there to be found. It can be seen when we abide in God. When we go to Him because of who He is, not because of what He can do for us. Let’s pull back from our problems and pray.

God, my hope is in You. You have saved me. You love me. You declared that I am worth everything You did for me. You want me to be with You. You take joy in me.

And I will not let that go unnoticed. I will not waste what You have given to me. I will live with joy. I will let You prevail. Because You are good and holy and kind and merciful. You are love, and You are light, and You are my hope and salvation. You are the very essence of joy, and I will allow myself to let Your joy shape my life. Amen.

Head on over to my post at Real Women Ministries for some study questions and to take part in our conversation about joy. And know that, whether you’re feeling it now or not, you are not alone.

A month of gifts—and when my greatest obstacle is me

I know Christmas isn’t about things, but it’s also true that anyone who knows me knows that I love to give gifts. So that’s what I’m going to do this month… offer giveaways every week. Just because :-). This week we’ll kick things off with a guest post from my awesome friend Kristine Brown. At ...

Read More

I know Christmas isn’t about things, but it’s also true that anyone who knows me knows that I love to give gifts. So that’s what I’m going to do this month… offer giveaways every week. Just because :-).

This week we’ll kick things off with a guest post from my awesome friend Kristine Brown. At the end, I’ll tell you how you can enter to have a chance to win a copy of her book.


When My Greatest Obstacle Is Me

I stood on the other side of the auditorium door, just steps away from the moment that stirred in my heart just weeks before. I had seen the flyer advertising open auditions, and I wanted to be in the school play more than anything.

There was just one small problem. This wasn’t a play. It was a musical, and I couldn’t sing. At least, that’s what someone told me once, and once was all it took for the words to stick.

I thought I’d moved beyond that self-defeating thought. For the past three weeks, I’d planned and practiced a ballad taught to me by a family friend. A ballad I would be expected to sing by myself in front of total strangers.

I committed to follow through, to open the door and step into whatever happened next. But now, so close to that moment, the doubt came flooding back like a raging storm set to destroy.

I’d like to say I marched with confidence onto the stage and sang my heart out, not worrying about the outcome, but that wouldn’t be true. After staring at the back of that door for a few minutes more, I turned around, walked straight to my car, and drove home. I’d let myself become my greatest obstacle.

“And when he knocked at the door of the gateway, a servant girl named Rhoda came to answer. Recognizing Peter’s voice, in her joy she did not open the gate but ran in and reported that Peter was standing at the gate. They said to her, ‘You are out of your mind.’ But she kept insisting that it was so, and they kept saying, ‘It is his angel!’ But Peter continued knocking, and when they opened, they saw him and were amazed.” Acts 12:13-16 ESV

Rhoda knew what it took to stop the ugly voice of doubt from invading her thoughts and causing her to lose confidence. Just a young girl, Rhoda served in the house of Mary. Many believers gathered there that night for a massive prayer meeting. Peter had been arrested by King Herod, and Christ’s faithful followers came together to pray for his safety.

When Rhoda heard Peter’s voice on the other side of the door, she knew it was him. They’d been praying for his release all night, and God answered their prayer! No one in the house believed her, but that didn’t keep her from opening the door.

“They said to her, ‘You are out of your mind.’ But she kept insisting that it was so…” Acts 12:15a

From the actions of this innocent servant girl, we can learn an important truth.

We stop words of doubt from invading our thoughts by insisting on God’s promises.

Inside each one of us, there’s an unsure teenage girl still waiting behind the auditorium door. Every day we face circumstances where words from the past creep in and try to build an obstacle inside our very hearts. It’s hard to stay positive when negative words plant seeds of doubt, causing us to lose faith in what we know to be true.

Rhoda’s story brings hope when we’re tempted to give in to self-defeat. So let’s join together today and insist on what God says to be true. We are worthy. We are loved. We believe.

And with the promises of God in our hearts and minds, we become our biggest ally instead of our greatest obstacle.

To enter a drawing to win a copy of this book, leave a comment below. Share with us one of God’s promises, a truth that you hold onto when times are rough. And then, if you would, pray for the person who commented before you. I’ll announce the winner next week.


Kristine Brown is a communicator at heart who teaches about God’s powerful, relatable Word. She is the author of Over It. Conquering Comparison to Live Out God’s Plan and founder of the non-profit organization, More Than Yourself, Inc. You’ll find Kristine’s weekly devotions and Bible study resources at kristinebrown.net. You can also connect with her on Facebook and Twitter.

 

This website and its content are copyright of Kelly O'Dell Stanley  | © Kelly O'Dell Stanley 2018. All rights reserved.

Site design by 801red