Unto Us a Son is Given

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given;
and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called
Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end. Isaiah 9:6-7a

I have been struck this Christmas season with the wonder of God coming to us as a helpless baby boy. Being pregnant during this time of year, especially with a baby boy, has been especially sweet. It has made me contemplate the incarnation of Christ in a different way. I am in my third trimester now (!). I can feel this little guy moving around inside of me and the time of his arrival is quickly arriving. 

I can't help but think about Mary, the ordinary, humble, teenage, virgin girl chosen to be the mother of the Lord. She graciously accepted the plan God had for her, even though it interrupted her plans and probably squashed some of her dreams. Her reputation would forever be in question regarding her faithfulness to her fiance Joseph. I pray for her humble acceptance of God's plans. I often cling tightly to my plans for the future and don't trust His ways over mine (even though I know that His ways are higher and better). Before becoming pregnant with our first baby, I struggled with the idea of letting go of my independence to embrace motherhood. I could sense God leading me towards motherhood but wasn't sure if it would make me happy. Shamefully, I sometimes still wonder if this whole motherhood thing is for me. It's hard to die to myself - to die to my plans, my independence, my vision of ministry...

Mary was in her third trimester when it came time for her and Joseph to make their way to Bethlehem to register for Caesar's census. I can't imagine how uncomfortable she was riding on a donkey, on bumpy roads, for many miles. I was uncomfortable driving down to Nashville for Christmas and my ride was way more luxurious than hers. And I will be making an even longer journey in a week from Pittsburgh to Tuscaloosa when we move. It won't be comfortable, but the same God who sustained her on the back of a donkey will sustain me on the road in our Honda.

And even though I can relate to Mary in these different ways, my son will be much different than hers. Her Baby was no ordinary child. He is God in the flesh (John 1:1, 14). He has always existed and He came to dwell with His people and to save them. And even though He is the king of Kings, He came in the humblest of ways, While my son will be born in a nice hospital, with relatives semi-nearby, and with the modern conveniences of life, God's Son was born in a stable, far from relatives, and wrapped in old rags. While my son will have a cozy crib, God's Son had a dirty feeding trough for his bed. Jesus came in way that no one would have ever expected and His life and death were just as mind blowing as His birth.

Jesus came with one purpose: to die for the sins of the world. Isaiah 9 says that He came as light to people who were walking in deep darkness (v.2). Jesus Christ has conquered that darkness by paying the penalty for our sins. The Son given to us at Christmas came to give eternal life to the world - including this little child within me. Because of the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus we can know God. God gave His Son over to death so that we could become His sons and daughters. I have been praying more consistently for my son's salvation and future, that God would use him in great ways for His kingdom. I pray God opens the eyes and mind of our baby boy to see and understand this Jesus at an early age. And I pray that I continue to grow in my understanding of who He is and what He has done.

But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law, to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons. Galatians 4:4-5

From Pride to Praise

Yesterday I turned 33. I know that's not really considered a milestone age, but I couldn't help thinking that this was the age that Jesus Christ died. He lived a short life and it was a hard life in the sense of being misunderstood and rejected and carrying the weight and sorrows of the world. His life ended abruptly by betrayal, an unjust trial, severe beatings and humiliation, and crucifixion. He died that we might live. His life purchased my life and restored me to God. I can live because of Him.

I have to admit my life is not what I imagined it would be at this point. That's been hard for me to accept in many ways, which shows my arrogance in thinking that I know better than God what is best for me. I was hit with this truth during last Sunday's sermon at Renaissance. We had a guest preacher who preached from James 4:13-17, about boasting about the future. He did not sugar coat what Jesus through James is condemning us Christians for: we arrogantly think we can make our plans without regard to God and when things don't go our way, we get bent out of shape. The preacher said that God, in His grace, sometimes painfully chips away at our plans to expose and crush this arrogance so that the arrogance doesn't crush us. Ultimately, Jesus Christ died for our arrogance on the cross.

I can see this arrogance in my own life. I had a particular vision of what I wanted my life and ministry to look like. And when God started messing with my plans, then I struggled. I became confused and grumbled against the Lord's leading, and sometimes I fell into despair. I was more sold out to my own vision of the future than I was to following Jesus wherever He may lead. I had my hands clenched tightly around my plans and over these past couple of years, Jesus has been prying my fingers off those plans. And it hurt. I felt like a failure. I felt like I was missing God's will, that I had gone down the wrong path. But the truth is that I was balking against God's work in my life because it didn't fit nicely into the path I had designed for myself. There is nothing inherently wrong with the dreams I had, but there was in my heart attitude towards them. In my zeal to serve God overseas and in dreaming about ministry, I had begun to idolize and worship them instead of continually seeking God and His guidance and allowing Him to guide and shape my heart.

Although the Lord has been teaching me to surrender to Him in all areas of life, this especially hit home while listening to this sermon. My problem was not only idolizing my plans, but my problem is arrogance. I thought I was wiser than God when it came to knowing how to best use my life. I wanted Him to bow down to my plans and make them successful like He was some genie who was at my bidding. This realization was hard and heavy. But God is so very kind to reveal these heart attitudes to me, so that I could repent and begin living in the freedom He has called me to in Christ.

I have continued to think about these things over the past few days. And yesterday it hit me: although my life isn't what I envisioned, God has blessed me with so many good things. I do like what He is doing in my life. I am thankful I am where I am. And with that realization comes so much freedom. I don't have to worry or wonder whether my life looks a certain way. Jesus only requires me to be faithful to Him and that means heeding His Word and following Him. He is not as concerned about the destination (career, ministry, etc) as I am; He is more concerned with the process of me getting there (knowing Him deeper, growing in Christlikeness and in community, being faithful, dying to myself). So, yes, I am not in Asia; I am not in full-time ministry; I have no idea if the dreams I am surrendering to God will ever be fulfilled; BUT God has blessed me with everything I need in Christ Jesus. He has been teaching me about living in His grace and living life in community. He has blessed me with a very sweet marriage to a godly man and we have a baby boy on the way. He gives me constant opportunities to minister to others in a variety of ways. He is good and does good (Psalm 119:68). I have so much to be thankful for.

Life After Loss

Things change when you lose a loved one. They change in a thousand different ways.

Today marks the third year since my dad passed away. It’s hard to believe he’s been gone that long, and sometimes the pain seems just as fresh as when it first happened. People always say that the first year is the hardest, and I can see how in many ways that is true. But I actually found that year two was harder. Maybe it’s because I had false expectations of what long-term loss looked like. I expected year one to be hard and then after that for things to immediately get easier. But they didn’t. Instead, the new reality set in: my dad is gone. No more phone calls. No more laughs. No more sharing life together. Life is still going on for sure…but without him.

This past year has been easier comparatively. But, grief can be a tricky thing. The pain sneaks up on when you least expect it and seems to be absent when you most expect it. And for everyone it seems to be different. And I guess one of the things I have noticed most is how I (and others close to my dad) still feel the loss, but how others have moved on. It doesn’t affect them regularly or cause the same void in their life. There’s nothing wrong with this. We can’t all feel every loss so keenly (how overwhelming that would be!). But for those suffering from loss, for those to whom the absence is noticeable, it seems like we are at times stuck in the pain or have regressed to an earlier stage of grief. The world carries on, but we experience the loss in some way every day. Time does heal the wound, albeit not completely, and we do adjust to the new way of living that God has ordained, but the loss becomes an integral part of our story. It doesn’t define us (or at least shouldn’t), but it does further shape us and what we believe. For Christians, it should sober their view of life and drive them to dependence upon Christ. That is one of the good intentions that God has in grief: to grow our faith and make us more like Christ. And we can only do that if we lean into Him and let others into our grief. 

God created us for community not just for fellowship and to share our joys, but to also share our sorrows and struggles. The local church should be the safest and best place to do this. We are called to rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep (Romans 12:15). We are to encourage the fainthearted (1 Thessalonians 5:14) and comfort others with the same comfort that Christ gives us (2 Corinthians 1:3-7). If the one who died is a believer, we are to remind each other of their and our future hope (1 Thessalonians 4:13-15). And, most of all, we should be encouraging one another and building one another up in the truth and knowledge of the Lord (1 Thessalonians 5:11; Ephesians 4:15-16). But we can only live out these commands within our church families if we are open and honest and vulnerable with one another. We have to let others into our lives and be intentional in entering the lives of others. This is not easy to do, especially in our individualistic, self-reliant, put-on-a-good-face society. But this is what Jesus calls us to, and the local church is where I believe you will find true healing from loss and people to walk alongside of you during the bouts of reoccurring grief. This is where I believe God chooses to meet us in unexpected ways as He reveals Himself to us through His people. Can you find healing from grief outside of the local church? Yes. But I believe it will be a longer, more lonely road, and a definitely less grace-centered and gospel-centered healing process. I am thankful that the Lord has pretty much forced me to share my grief with my brothers and sisters in Christ. He has used them to confront my doubts and unbelief in God's goodness and to encourage me when I am hurting and discouraged. They may not feel the loss regularly like I do (or may not have even been there to experience the loss in the first place), but they are more than willing to patiently enter the pain with me and comfort me through it. Life after loss may look different for everyone, but the true source of Hope and Comfort is universal. His name is Jesus Christ and He often channels His hope and comfort through His people in the local church context.

Pushing Past the Seen

Things that are seen. These are the things that command our attention, that fight for our joy. And once again, I found myself fixated on what is tangible. I am in my second pregnancy. The first one ended in a miscarriage 8 weeks in. When I came to the seventh and eighth weeks in this pregnancy, I fought hard to trust the Lord and not give into anxiety. Yet, I was looking to the things I can see or feel to determine how well this pregnancy was going. Was I nauseous? Did I have food aversions? Yes. Good; the pregnancy must be going well. But I experienced spotting for over a week. What did that mean? Was that a sign of a miscarriage? If only my first appointment would come and I could hear the heartbeat...if there is a heartbeat…

Then the Lord brought me to this timely verse one morning:

¹⁶ So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, ¹⁸ as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal. 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

I am well acquainted with this verse, but I needed a fresh reminder. I had been focusing on the visible; trusting in what I can sense or see or feel, instead of trusting in the promises of God. I was trusting in feeling nauseous and food aversions and the absence spotting to reassure myself that everything was okay. But the Word of God is more true that the tangible things around me, and He holds out beautiful promises of future grace to those who trust in Him – promises that never fail.

Yet, even though God brought this lack of trust to my attention, I continued to struggle. I knew I needed to focus on the unseen things, but visible things were what continued to consume my attention and fuel my fears. I needed specific unseen things to focus on. I needed specific promises besides the broader truths that God was sovereign and was working for my good.

Once again, God in His grace met me in my struggles and unbelief. That weekend the sermon at church was from Psalm 139. I studied it beforehand to prepare for the sermon and God used that psalm to remind me of His constant care and presence. He has been with this child from the beginning – before I even knew this little life existed – and He was the One fashioning him or her together. More than that, God has a plan for this child, regardless of how this pregnancy ends. Just like He has numbered and planned my days, He has numbered and planned the days of this little one, no matter how many or few. Furthermore, God promises not to withhold good from His children (Psalm 84:11). Therefore, if the birth and life of this child is good for my husband and me, God will not withhold him or her from us. The same was true with our first pregnancy. Even though we went through a valley of darkness and pain in miscarriage, we watched God work in our marriage and through our lives to strengthen relationships, minister to those suffering in similar circumstances, and draw us closer to Christ. It was good for us to be afflicted in that way (Psalm 119:71), so that we may grow in faith and love and the knowledge of Christ. 

So I am still waiting for my first appointment* and I still have the thought of miscarriage hovering in the back of my mind, but I have a renewed confidence in God’s wise care and plans. His abundant grace is available each day and His mercies are new every morning. They never run dry. And nothing catches Him by surprise. He knows how our first doctor’s appointment will go. He knows how this pregnancy will end. And I can lean into Him and trust what He has in store. Because He is not only working for mine and my husband’s good, but He is working for the good of this baby and of His church and for the glory of His name. I cannot control what is going on inside of me, but I can trust the One who is in control. He is working in the unseen places and in unseen ways, and what cannot be seen now will one day reveal His omnipotent wisdom and goodness and glory to all.

*This post has been in the works for several weeks. Daniel and I had our first appointment last Tuesday. And the Lord in His kindness met us in our doubts and fears and allowed us to hear the heartbeat. :) We are thankful for such a gift!

Our Second Year :: In Pictures

One year anniversary trip :: Niagra Falls and Toronto

Impromptu trip to MO :: Mom in hospital :: October 2015

Halloween 2015 :: Let the pumpkin-carving tradition continue!

Duquesne Graduate Symposium :: November 2015

Daniel's Birthday at Noodlehead :: a surprise party was waiting for him at home :)

Thanksgiving in TN :: Skeet shooting

Christmas in MO :: the five of us all together for the first time since our weddings!

First Pregnancy :: Miscarriage :: January 2016 :(

I finally took a photography course :: new lens!

Completed our second puzzle together :: this one took longer than the first

New Board Game of Choice :: Monopoly

Daniel's parents came to visit :: March 2016

We became members of Renaissance :: April 2016

Trip to Belgium and Paris :: May 2016

My mom came to visit :: May 2016

Moe's! :: one of our go-to date night places

Summer in Pittsburgh :: so pretty!

Second Pregnancy :: June 2016 :: Due March 2017

OH-MO-TN-KY Trip :: July 2016

Second Year Anniversary :: Local Eats and Jason Bourne Movie

Here's to another year!

Comforted to Comfort

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God. For as we share abundantly in Christ's sufferings, so through Christ we share abundantly in comfort too. If we are afflicted, it is for your comfort and salvation; and if we are comforted, it is for your comfort, which you experience when you patiently endure the same sufferings that we suffer. Our hope for you is unshaken, for we know that as you share in our sufferings, you will also share in our comfort. 2 Corinthians 2:3-7

Sometimes in loss or difficult trials, the Lord allows His people to see His purposes behind why He allowed them. When it comes to our miscarriage earlier this year, Daniel and I still don't understand why God allowed us to lose our baby, but we can see how He is using our loss for His glory and kingdom. Nothing is ever lost in God's economy. It all serves us and others in some way.

During these last two months, we have had the opportunity of walking with two dear couples who suffered miscarriages. Because we had already walked down that road ourselves and had received God's comfort and healing, we were able to minister that same comfort to these two couples. Like the verse above describes, we were comforted to comfort others. Our circumstances weren't exactly the same. Our inner experience of losing our babies weren't the same either. But we have the same Father in heaven who loves us and because of that, we were able to identify with the loss and grief that suddenly came upon our friends. We were able to cry with them and pray with/for them and encourage them of God's goodness, grace, and mercy even in the midst of such bewildering circumstances.

This doesn't mean that knowing that we can help others gives us more of a sense of purpose in our loss; it just means that we can see how God is redeeming the loss in our life by allowing us to encourage and comfort others. Our joys and sorrows are never just for us. God does indeed use them to refine us and make us more like Christ and increase our faith, but He is also preparing us to serve others and witness to His goodness, greatness, and sufficiency in what seems like hopeless situations. If we keep our pain to ourselves and do not let others share in it so that they can either serve us or that we can serve them, we waste our pain. When Jesus was on earth, He allowed others to share in His sorrow (Matthew 26:36-38) and He comforted those who were hurting (Matthew 28:10; Mark 5:36; John 14:27). That's what love does. And we are called to love.


We will probably never understand the reasons behind any of these miscarriages on this side of heaven, but, as hard as it is sometimes, our hope and faith in Jesus does not rest upon understanding every circumstance He allows or prohibits. He calls us not to understand but to trust. His wisdom is much greater than ours and His purposes are much higher (Isaiah 55:8-9). God certainly had the power to prevent the loss of these babies, but in His mysteriously perfect wisdom He didn't. But in His sovereign power, God is using these evidences of our painful, broken, and sin-wrecked world to make beautiful things happen: strengthening marriages through loss, united brothers and sisters closer in Christ, making us all more dependent on Him - are a few that come to mind. This is our hope in the midst of suffering and affliction, that the God of the universe is working in all things for the good of His people and the fame of His name (Romans 8:28) and that every ounce of pain on this side of eternity will be more than repaid, and greatly overshadowed, by the glory that awaits us (Romans 8:18; 2 Corinthians 4:16-18). I long for that day and it is that hope that sustains me when circumstances are hard and my understanding is dark. Until then and with the Lord's help, I will continue to grow in sharing my pain with others so that I can be comforted and so that I can comfort those who need comforting.

A Special Friday

And when they came to the place that is called The Skull, there they crucified [Jesus], and the criminals, one on his right and one on his left. And Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” And they cast lots to divide his garments. And the people stood by, watching, but the rulers scoffed at him, saying, “He saved others; let him save himself, if he is the Christ of God, his Chosen One!”  Luke 23:33-35

Yesterday was Good Friday. It also marked the 15th year anniversary of when I became a Christian, of when God saved me from myself for Himself. I had every reason in the world to be joyful yesterday. But I wasn't. Instead, I was irritable, grumbling inwardly, and wanted to be alone. Instead of focusing on how much I had to be thankful for (I mean, literally, yesterday symbolized the very foundation of gratitude), I was focusing on how well I didn't sleep the night before, how upset my stomach felt, and how dreary and cold the weather was. The skies were very gray, which is not uncommon to Pittsburgh, much like my melancholy attitude.

I even had a very fruitful time reading a couple of meditations yesterday morning about Good Friday, which was in the Holy Week devotional I have been reading this week. Through those readings, God allowed me to sense some of the weight and burden of what Jesus went through on the cross; more than just the physical agony, but the isolation and emptiness of Him being separated from His heavenly Father. And as much as this reading gripped me and drew me near to the throne of God's grace, I still couldn't shake the way I was feeling. I was struggling to fight for joy.

But then evening came, which brought with it the Good Friday service at Renaissance Church. It was just what I needed to refocus and reset, to remember what Christ had done for me. During the service, we raised our voices in praise to Jesus, who paid the penalty for our sins by dying on the cross, and we focused on the seven statements He made as He hung there in agony. The final words of a dying man. A man who was more than a man; this was the Creator of the universe sacrificing Himself for His rebellious and helpless creatures.

During the service, the Lord convicted me of my sinful attitude: of my grumbling heart and loveless disposition. I did have every reason to rejoice. When I was 17, God saved me. It wasn't because He saw anything good in me. I thought I was good. I thought He would be lucky to have me. But I wasn't good enough to warrant His attention and affection and rescue. It wasn't that I didn't believe in His existence, that was instilled in me in childhood; it's that I was apathetic to Him. When I heard the truth of my need for Him, I didn't react. I pondered, I considered, but I did nothing. So, in essence, I was rejecting Jesus and the work He did for me on the cross. I thought my good deeds were good enough and that I didn't need a sinless substitute to take God's away anger toward my sin. In fact, I didn't think God was angry with me at all, and if He was, I was the one to do something about it, not Jesus.

Like everyone else, I wanted to live life my own way. I was living for the approval of others and for my own esteem and benefit. But it was in the midst of this selfish pursuit that God began chasing after me. The words from the sermons at church started to grab my heart. I didn't totally understand why I needed Jesus in my life, but I couldn't get away from the idea that I did. The thought kept infringing itself upon my mind until I couldn't resist anymore. I needed Jesus. So, on Saturday evening when I got home from work on March 25, 2001, I told my dad I wanted to become a Christian, not even knowing what that really meant. He led me in a prayer of repentance for my sins and of asking Jesus to be the Savoir and Lord of my life. The words weren't magical. I didn't feel any tingling sensations or anything, but I did feel peace and purpose. I had this newfound resolve (strength from God) to follow Jesus and learn more about Him. In some sense, I realized that I belonged to another. Someone else would be calling the shots in my life.

As I read the meditations about Good Friday and sung the lyrics to the songs at the service and listened to the sermonette on Jesus being forsaken by God on the cross as He bore the sins of all His people, I couldn't help but think about how on this day 2000-plus years ago, Jesus died to set me free from sin and death and to bring me into a relationship with God, and how 15 years ago, Jesus cashed in that payment, so to speak, to make His sacrifice a reality in my life, to gain the prize for which He died. He not only became sin while on the cross (2 Corinthians 5:21), He became my sin. He not only faced the full wrath of God against sin, He faced the full wrath of God against my sin. It was the punishment that I deserved. Jesus never did or thought or said anything wrong. He wasn't apathetic to the things of God. He didn't grumble when things didn't go His way. He wasn't irritable or antisocial. Yet He paid for penalty as if He did. In fact, He became the very ugliness that lies in the crevices of my heart: the thoughts and motives and attitudes I wouldn't want anyone to see (and they wouldn't want to see them either). But Jesus sees them and instead of leaving me in disgust and sending me to hell (which would have been just), He took on flesh and then died, becoming those very things, in order that He could defeat sin and death and set me free and make me new.

One of the things Jesus said from the cross before He died was, "It is finished." The purpose for which He was born had been accomplished. He in some mysterious way took on the sins of the world and drunk the symbolic cup of God's fury against sin and unrighteousness while He was on the cross. And so those three words from Jesus continue to ring true for every one who trusts in Him. "It is finished." He speaks those words over every believer, including me.

And so last night, I recommitted myself to the Lord, giving Him the blank check of my life. Whatever He wants for me, I want it. Wherever He wants me to go, I'll go. That's what following Him means and that's what trusting Him looks like. He gave everything for me; the least I can do is live completely for Him. And by His grace and strength, I won't grumble about whatever He has in store, but will rejoice in all that God is for me and has done for me in Christ.

Unplanned Paces and Places

I have mentioned before that I am reading John Piper's Future Grace. I am slowly making my way through it, but it's really rocking my world in some ways. I just finished a chapter about how to fight impatience with future grace. Now when I think of impatience, I envision scenarios that involve being stuck in traffic or waiting for someone who is running late or waiting for spring to come (okay, that's legit - I am so antsy for spring!). While those may be included, Piper moves beyond the more superficial instances of impatience to ones that are much deeper; namely, scenarios that involve shattered dreams, painful trials, painstakingly slow outcomes, and undesired locations. He refers to these as the unplanned pace and the unplanned place of life. It is in these paces and places that our patience is truly tested. And it's where I have seen my tested over and over again these last several years (revealing just how impatient I am).

Piper says that patience is the "capacity to wait and endure without murmuring and disillusionment - to wait in the unplanned place, and endure the unplanned pace." We have to trust God to "turn all of our detours and obstacles into glorious outcomes." This is hard. Piper admits that it is and talks about the strength it takes to wait patiently in the unplanned, unasked for circumstances of life - the circumstances that God Himself says He is sovereign over and working in to display His grace and goodness for us. This has been hard for me. I admit that I have often murmured while waiting in the unplanned place at the unplanned pace. In fact, Pittsburgh was not at all a part of my plan and I have often grumbled (mostly in my heart) against it.

I can say the same about myself when it comes to waiting. I like to know the when and the how. I like to be able to make long-term plans. Daniel and I find ourselves in a holding pattern as we wait for a specific job opportunity to develop. We can't make summer plans or financial plans or other long-term plans without this piece of the puzzle. And although I am not really worried about what's going to happen, it sometimes drives me crazy not knowing. I just want to know. I just want to be able to put the pieces together and say this is what the next few years look like. And the reason I want to know is rooted in the fact that I want to feel like I am in control; I don't want to be dependent on God. So at the core I am not trusting God to guide me and provide for me, which reveals a lack of faith. That's ugly, but it's the truth. And it is in the unplanned paces and places where I learn to trust God more and more.

Knowing the answers to what's next is a gift. But it's not a gift God has for us right now. Waiting (growing in patience) is His gift to us. Even though I want to know, He knows (and I know) I don't need to know. Many of what I would consider detours to going overseas have been unplanned (by me), but I can see how God has used every single place and pace to reveal more of Christ to me as well as my constant need for Him. His ways may not be mine, but they are always greater than mine.

Jesus instead bids me to trust Him. Trust Him that I am exactly where I should be. Trust Him that He will show me what's next. Trust Him that His timing is always perfect. Trust Him that the circumstances He allows in my life, no matter how painful or frustrating, are from His hand. Trust Him that He will fulfill His promise that in every situation He will work every single thing (good or bad, painful or joyful) for my good (Romans 8:28).

So the secret to being patient, as you would expect from the title of the book, is trusting in God's future grace: believing in God's promise to be for you and not against you (Romans 8:31), so much so that He delights in doing you good both now and in the future (Jeremiah 32:41) and works in and through all circumstances in such a way so that they bless you (Genesis 50:20; Romans 8:28). These are the promises I am trying to cling to in the unplanned pace and place of life. Wherever you find yourself today, I hope you will do the same. His promises are for all who believe in Jesus and they are guaranteed to you because of what Jesus accomplished for us on the cross (2 Corinthians 1:20).

God is ruling the world. He is ruling history. And it is all for the good of His people and the glory of His name...So the lesson of the whole Bible stands: when delays and detours and frustrations and opposition ruin our plans and bode ill for us, faith in future grace lays hold of the sovereign purpose of God to bring something magnificent to pass. That is the key to patience. (Future Grace, p. 175, 173)

A Few More Thoughts

I promise I won’t continue to write about this, but there are so many things that God is up to regarding my last post that I wanted to share a few more things.

Last Sunday at church was Baby Dedication. Perfect timing, right? I say that sarcastically, but it was. It’s no coincidence that I miscarried exactly a week before there would be a church service where parents would dedicate their new babies to the Lord. Unlike some churches and denominations, my church (and I) believe that babies shouldn’t be baptized. We believe that baptism is for those who are old enough to make a conscious decision to follow Christ. No one is born a Christian. We are all born as rebels against God and we must respond to the call to turn to God through Christ in order to be saved. So, instead, my church does baby dedications as a way for families to commit to teaching their children about Jesus and as a way for the church to commit to partnering with and helping families in that high calling.

Even though we didn’t have a little one to dedicate in front of the church, I felt the Lord calling me to do so in my heart. The first question that my pastor asked these new parents was, “Will you entrust your children to the Lord?” When he asked that question, I felt the Lord asking me, “Will you? Will you entrust your little one to me?” Yes. Even though we don’t understand why God took away our child, we choose to entrust him to His care. In fact, what better hands could he be in that God’s? He knew each of the days of our baby's short life before he was even conceived.

My frame was not hidden from you,
when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them. Psalm 139:15-16

 Later that day, one of our dear friends came by our house to give us flowers and a frame with the baby's name. And that is something else I wanted to share: the way that our brothers and sisters in Christ have mourned with us and supported us through this sorrowful time. As hard as it is to be so open and vulnerable with people about your pain, it is even harder to suffer in silence. I know this from experience. We have seen God work through our Renaissance church family and other Christians we know to comfort us and love us. Our missional community group (a.k.a. small group) has prayed with us, cried with us, sent us cards and text messages, and would do more if we would let them. It has been a beautiful thing to watch Romans 12:15 prove true in the life of the body of Christ: “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” Our brothers and sisters in Christ rejoiced with us when we shared we were pregnant (the few we told) and mourned with us when we shared our loss. God has used them to bring us much comfort and encouragement, and has also used them to help us remember God’s goodness, sovereignty, and grace.

And God has not only used used this loss to give us the opportunity to be vulnerable with others (which is so hard for me), but He has also used it to help others be vulnerable with us. Several women have shared with me about their miscarriages. Losses they probably wouldn't have shared without learning about my loss. So relationships are going deeper and there has been sweetness in our sorrow. Only God can do that. He brings beauty out of the ashes (Isaiah 61:1-3).

Finally, I can only give credit to Jesus for how we have been responding to this affliction. I am afraid that a few months ago I wouldn’t have responded in faith. Instead, I would have headed in a downward spiral of self-pity and doubt. But God has a way of preparing us for the trials and afflictions He brings our way. He gives us the strength and faith to trust Him and praise Him in the midst of suffering and loss. He helps us to look at the unseen when all we can see is the pain around us. Because even though He causes grief, He will show compassion and shine His face on us again.

You who have made me see many troubles and calamities
    will revive me again;
from the depths of the earth
    you will bring me up again.
You will increase my greatness
    and comfort me again. Psalm 71:20-21

Another Loss

“I shall go to him, but he will not return to me.” 2 Samuel 12:23

This is a deeply personal post. I am sharing because, even though I wouldn’t choose these circumstances, this is how the Lord has chosen to work in my life. I try to be honest that living the Christian life, that following Jesus, is not about a life of ease and comfort. Suffering and affliction come to believers and unbelievers alike, in many shapes and forms, and yet with different purposes. In the life of the one who believes in Jesus Christ, suffering and affliction is a tool that God uses to draw His people closer to Himself (Hos. 6:1-3; Heb. 4:15-16), to increase their trust in Him (2 Cor. 1:9), to teach them (Psalm 119:67, 71), to discipline them (Heb. 12:7-11), to allow them to share in Christ’s sufferings (Phil. 3:8-11; 2 Tim. 1:8), and to allow them to identify with and comfort others (2 Cor. 1:2-7) – to name a few. It is not for punishment. Christ took every ounce of punishment for those who place their trust in Him. And it is not arbitrary or meaningless (2 Cor. 4:16-18). The life and death of Jesus gives meaning to even the most minute and mundane things. God always seems to be a million things at once in our lives, so whatever circumstances we may find ourselves in, they are not pointless.

These are the things that God is reminding me as my husband and I face a painful loss. Death visited us again in January. This time in a way that is harder to understand and express. About a month ago, Daniel and I found out we were pregnant. We were excited (and scared), but so thankful for such a quick answer to prayer. And, suddenly, before we could even begin to wrap our minds around this little gift of life, it was over. At 8 weeks (a week ago today), I miscarried. The talk of painting one of the bedrooms for a nursery, guessing if it would be a boy or girl, and already beginning to care for this tiny addition to our family was all over in an instant.

But God is faithful and He is near. He is not a God who is far away and is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses and sufferings. The Bible says He is close to the broken-hearted (Psalm 34:18). In fact, He entered into and identified with our sufferings by sending His Son, Jesus. Jesus was called a Man of Sorrows (Isaiah 53:3). He was tempted in every way were are, yet He did not sin (Hebrews 4:15). He knows intimately what we are going through and He has been very near to us, pursuing us through His Word and through His people and surrounding us with His presence.

In fact, God began pursuing my heart and preparing me for this loss in the days leading up to the miscarriage (and the days following). Through songs and Bible reading and the radio and the devotional I am reading, He has been calling me to do one thing: Praise (the one thing that doesn’t come naturally in times like these. No matter what would happen with the baby (because by the time last weekend came, we knew there was something wrong), God was asking me to trust Him and to commit to praise Him. He was asking me to adopt the words of Job as my own. Job lost all his possession, his ten children, his heath, and his status in the blink of an eye. And yet this is how he responded:

Then Job arose and tore his robe and shaved his head and fell on the ground and worshiped. And he said, “Naked I came from my mother's womb, and naked shall I return. The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.” Job 1:20-21

God asked me to do the same. As I was listening to the Shane and Shane song below, God was essentially ask me, “Will you praise me no matter what? Are you willing to worship me even when I take away?” My heart, although trembling, cried out a firm Yes. I choose to trust You, Lord. I choose to remember that Your ways are higher and thoughts are greater, and that You will not withhold from me anything that is good for me.”

I am currently studying through the Psalms, and even there God was beckoning me to praise Him:

“Praise the Lord! Praise the name of the Lord, give praise, O servants of the Lord…Praise the Lord, for the Lord is good; sing to His name, for it is pleasant.” Psalm 135:1, 3
“Give thanks to the Lord, for He is good, His steadfast love endures forever.” Psalm 136:1

So, with God’s help and strength, that is what Daniel and I have been trying to do. We don’t pretend to understand why we had a miscarriage. We don’t pretend that this isn’t hard or painful, because it is very much so. We don’t pretend we haven’t been tempted to self-pity or bitterness or envy because we have (or, at least, I have). But we do choose to take God at His Word and trust that He is working in such dark circumstances and that He is in control of life and death and that He will work in and through this for our good. And I have no doubt that God will use this loss to make the love and message of Jesus shine brightly in our lives. I have already seen signs of Him doing so. 

Music and the Mind

I need more music in my life. Seriously. I used to listen to music more in my car. I used to have a song in my head. I used to sing more. I have noticed the past year or so that this hasn't been true of me. I often leave the radio off in the car. I have been cleaning in silence (though sometimes listening to a sermon). So, I got to thinking, I need to listen to more music. It helps settle my thoughts. It helps set my mind on things above, like Colossians 3 tells me to do. It makes me more aware of Jesus as I go about my day. And, often, Jesus uses music as a means to speak words of comfort to me.

To help with this, I recently burned three CDs from my iTunes account to listen to while in the car. I have lots of CDs in my car, but none of them have been appealing to me (which is a surprise - I used to be able to always listen to some Third Day). I guess I have just been needed something with deeper lyrics and more complex melodies than what I have had available to me on my drive. So, enter Sojourn and Indelible Grace music. They have been playing in my car for a few weeks now, and it has been good for me. I have also turned on music while I have been cooking or cleaning.

Music not only raises my soul to praise and focus on the One who truly matters (Jesus Christ), it also helps me to obey the command to think about things that are true and lovely and commendable (Philippians 4:8) and helps me to keep a better perspective on the difficult circumstances in my life. Of course, music is not the cure all. It is just a means. Jesus is the cure all. But He does choose to work through things and people to draw us to Himself and to renew our minds.

I was reminded last night about how much my mind needed to be renewed while reading yesterday's devotional from John Piper's Solid Joys app. He talked about the "remarkable" power of the mind to choose what it wants to think about. He says "what you set your mind on determines whether the issue is life or death." He got this from Romans 8:5-6 where the Apostle Paul says that to set the mind on the things of God results in life, but to set the mind on worldly things results in death. So it's really important what we set our minds on, what we think about. Piper talked about the need to be proactive in what we think about and not passive. It's easy to be passive. It's harder to be diligent in our thinking; to not think about the messiness around us and dwell on all the things that are going wrong.

In reading this, I was convicted. No wonder I haven't had a song to sing. No wonder I have been down at times. I am focused too much on what I don't like about this city or my job or my life, rather than all of the good things about living here or working where I do or the blessings that God has lavished upon me. Perspective changes everything. God knows this. This is why He repeatedly commands us to think about things that are above and to entrust Him with our cares and meditate on His promises of future grace and to remember everything that He has done for us. Yes, this life can be ugly. Yes, this world is messed up. But God has a plan and purpose for everything single thing we experience as believers. He is working in and through these things for good, and He promises to make all things new (Isaiah 48:6; Revelation 21:5). Look for evidences of His grace around you. I guarantee you He is at work and you will find His fingerprints in the most unlikely places. And when you do, you may even want to sing about it.

Death Changes Everything

Death changes everything. It interrupts daily life. It changes relationships. It alters family traditions. It leaves an unfillable void. Nothing seems to be the same in its wake. And, as time goes on, it seems as if you see how much impact the death of a loved one has on the entire family.

Yesterday, was my Grandma Hovis's funeral (dad's mom). And, even though it was her funeral, I mourned more for my dad than for her. There were too many similarities: same funeral home, same preacher, and same graveyard. It's amazing what still catches me off guard and brings me to tears regarding my dad. I knew how the service would go for the most part, but I wasn't prepared for these words in my Grandma's obituary, which was read out loud: "Proceeded in death by...Gary Hovis." I lost it. It was such a stark reminder of what seems to be not fair - parents burying their children - and of my own personal loss. My grandparents, though, have buried three children and lost numerous other relatives over the years. They were, unfortunately, well acquainted with loss and grief.

My grandma: Naomi Hovis (1923-2016)

My Grandma Hovis professed to be a believer in Jesus Christ, so she, like my dad, finally has her Reward. We can all mourn with hope because she is not gone forever. She is experiencing no more suffering and no more pain. And she has her mind back (oh the joy!). She has been reunited with all those whom she knew who were also believers. They are all rejoicing together as they worship Jesus Christ and rest in His glorious presence. More than seeing lost loved ones, more than escaping this messed up world, more than experiencing wholeness and healing and sinlessness and relief, the true prize of Heaven is being with Jesus and experiencing unbroken and unending fellowship with Him; of seeing Him face to face in all of His glory.

Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. Matthew 5:8
Well done, good and faithful servant...enter into the joy of your Master. Matthew 25:23
In [God's] presence, there is fullness of joy; at [God's] right hand are pleasures forevermore. Psalm 16:11
"Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be His people, and God Himself with be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall me no more, neither shall there me mourning nor crying nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away...Behold, I am making all things new." Revelation 21:3-5

So I don't know how things will change in my family now that my grandma is gone. There is much healing to be done. For my grandpa, who was married to her for 66 years, everything has changed. He' the one I feel for most. He can't stay by himself, so not only is his wife and companion gone, but he also has a different caregiver and different home. Things will never be the same for him. Pray for him, please.

In some ways, the Hovis family is still reeling and healing from the loss of my dad (over two years ago now). Relationships look different than they did then. There is more bickering and more bitterness and more interpersonal conflict, it seems, among the siblings. People just don't seem to be as close, and it makes my heart sad. I am not saying that my dad made his family perfect, but he did seem to be a stabilizer or peacemaker of sorts. He had a way of speaking wisdom and clarity into situations. He also spoke his mind. And I am sure he would have some things to say about the turmoil that is happening within different families in the Hovis clan. But, I cannot change how things are and I shouldn't mourn over what could be. God, in His great wisdom and grace, has seen fit to ordain things the way He has. I cannot hope in my family or in situations getting better, but I can hope in the One who makes all things new and who can bring wholeness out of brokenness. He has a plan for me and my relatives - for all of us. Let us seek Him first and He will take care of these other things. Maybe (and hopefully) God will use these losses to turn many hearts in my family to Him. Oh what a day that will be!