Lessons in Motherhood: Trust

There have been many challenges in being a new mom (like trying to find time and energy to write this post) and with those challenges many spiritual lessons. The three main ones are entrusting Justus to the Lord, dying to myself, and embracing this new calling (while at the same time counting my other ambitions as loss).

In this post I want to focus on the first one: entrusting Justus to the Lord. This is one that the Lord has been challenging me with before Justus was even born and was further heightened when he was admitted back into the hospital at two weeks old.

As recounted in an earlier post, Daniel and I lost our first baby to a miscarriage. So, although we were trying not to be ruled by fear, we were apprehensive the first few months of our second pregnancy until we were able to hear Justus's heartbeat. I found myself fighting fear off and on throughout the rest of the pregnancy: when was the last time I felt him move? What if he has a genetic abnormality? Questions like that came and went, but the Lord helped me to commit them to Him and reminded me that He was the one sustaining my baby, not me (although I was the primary means of that sustaining). Then little Justus was born, perfectly healthy. I was reminded of how fretting leads to nothing but emotional turmoil and spiritual doubt.

Two weeks later, we found ourselves back at the hospital with Justus as he had developed an infection in his umbilical cord stump (you can read about that here). Again, I was faced with the decision of whether or not I would entrust this sweet baby to the Lord. I still couldn't sustain him; only the Lord could do that (even though I was still a means of sustaining him). The Lord created Justus and knows him intimately (Psalm 139). But would I trust Him?

I am learning this is the theme of parenthood. There are always things to worry about concerning our children. Justus, for instance, just learned how to roll over onto his tummy and likes to sleep face down. As new parents, we find this terrifying. I hardly slept the first night and checked on him more than I would like to admit. I was gripped by fear (of SIDS) and had to confront that fear with the truth of God's Word if I was ever going to rest (and be sane). So I went to a familiar passage in Philippians 4:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. (v. 6-7)

I prayed these words to God and tried to obey them. I thanked God for Justus and told Him that I entrusted him to His care. I recounted my fears and repented of my anxiety. And then, as a practical way of showing that I trusted Him, I did not check on Justus as much as I would have liked. When I wanted to do so, I told God that I trusted Him and knew He was taking care of Justus. And you know what? Those verses came true. God gave me peace, the strength to trust Him, and helped me to sleep (which I very much needed).

This doesn't mean I won't struggle with this anymore; I will. This is a lesson that I will continually learn and grow in, but hopefully I will find things less fearful as time moves on and find God more trustworthy. That, after all, is what it looks like to walk in faith and grow in Jesus: "progess, not perfection" (Pastor Rob, Renaissance Church).

2017: Brand New Territory

This year has been a whirlwind of changes and challenges. I usually write a New Year's post and a post reflecting on my new birth in Christ (which was Saturday). Time has been limited - and so has mental clarity - and writing has taken a setback to many other things. While I have a few moments to spare (and this is my third day working on this), I thought I would combine my three annual posts (New Year's, spiritual birthday, and Easter) into one. 

So much has happened since I last had the opportunity to write. This year literally began with change as we moved to Tuscaloosa, Alabama, on January 1 for Daniel's new job. I was seven months pregnant at the time. We have had a lot of change in a very short amount of time (new job for Daniel, new church family, new city, new routines, new house, and a new baby). My introverted and routine-oriented self is still coming to grips with it all. Almost nothing is familiar, which is why I titled this post "Brand New Territory." 

As much as I did not enjoy living in the city of Pittsburgh, it was very painful to leave our church family and dear friends at Renaissance. God used the leadership there as well as the members to grow us in what it means to live by grace, to point others to grace, and to live in deep community with other believers. I miss them so much.

One of our biggest fears in leaving Renaissance was that we wouldn't be able to find a church where living in community with out believers was so central. The Lord was so very kind to connect us to Safe Have Church - Big Sandy the first week we arrived in Tuscaloosa. It wasn't long before the Lord started giving us new friends and opportunities to serve within the church. Even though the people there hardly knew us, they took it upon themselves to take care of us when we arrived and when our son was born. It will take time to develop the depths of friendships that we crave, but we are excited for what God has in store for us in and through this local body of believers. 

During the first month, I spent most of my time cleaning our new house (yep - we're home owners now!) and making it feel like home. I wanted to do a lot of the deep cleaning before our baby boy was born. I thought I had more time than I did, but he surprised us by coming two and a half weeks early. Justus Garrison* was born on Valentine's Day, weighing in at 8 pounds, 10 ounces. 

This is not only new territory for us, but uncharted territory. 

I expect this new year to keep up the theme of new territory as we settle in here and grow in parenting Justus. Even though we don't really have to teach him much in the way of verbal lessons, we can already see our lack of wisdom and strength for this awesome task.

As almost everyone had warned us, the first few weeks were rough. Add to this the fact that Justus was admitted into the hospital when he was two weeks old with omphalitis (an infection in his umbilical cord stump). He was in the hospital for a total of 9 days. It was a very difficult and dark time. It was so hard to see him poked and prodded so much. He had to receive strong doses of IV antibiotics and his IV blew 4 times. Every time they had to do a new IV, they had to stick him multiple times before they could get it to take. It was almost unbearable to watch. I struggled with understanding how this could be for Justus's good and became angry at God as the week wore on for allowing everything to be so hard and painful. He reminded me that He knew intimately what it was like to watch His Son suffer. 

Indeed, that is why we celebrate Easter. God was not only willing for His Son to suffer to save a people for Himself, but He ordained it (Isaiah 53). I confess that this truth, as marvelous as it is, only brought me a little comfort at the time. My heart was embittered towards my heavenly Father for what He was permitting to happen to Justus. I have since repented of my hardness of heart and apathetic spirit - which is why Jesus had to die, to save hard-hearted sinners like me. The cross of Christ proves the depths of God's love for me, even though I had lost sight of that at the time.

I mentioned that Saturday was my spiritual birthday - the day when Jesus Christ gave me new spiritual life (John 3). It has now been 16 years of following the Lord. As I grow in faith and in the knowledge of Him, I realize more and more how much I need His grace. He saved me by His grace and He sustains me by His grace. I bring nothing to the table, except the sin that required His death on my behalf. The Lord reminded me today as I reflected on Him saving me that it is only by His grace that I still believe in Him. It's only by His grace that I did not walk away from the Christian faith when enduring that dark week at the hospital with Justus. We never outgrow our need for the gospel. We need it to save us from our sin and bring us to God and we need it to continue believing in God until we reach Heaven, where our faith will become sight. Reflecting on these truths helps me see Easter, as well as my spiritual birthday, in a different light. These were not just events that happened in the past, but they are events that continue to impact the here and now. 

As Christians, we have much to rejoice in as we think about the Lenten season leading up to Resurrection Sunday. Our sins have been paid for. We have been redeemed. Perfect obedience has been imputed to us. We have been made right with God. We have been adopted as His sons and daughters forever. We have been given the Holy Spirit to lead and guide us. And God Himself will see to it that we endure in faith until the end. Celebrate God's grace with me this Easter season. Without it, we would be hopeless and dead in our sins. But God, being rich in mercy, made us alive together with Christ (Ephesians 2:4-5)!

Photo credit: Gary Franklin Photography (www.garyfranklinphoto.com)

*We chose the name Justus (besides the fact that we just liked the name) because we liked its meaning ("just"). Plus, I liked how it was a biblical name (though not a common one). Garrison is a play off my dad's name, Gary, and means "fortified stronghold" and "son of Gary." 

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.

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.

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

Confessions of an Absent Blogger

Wow. It’s been a long time since I’ve blogged. I used to always have an idea for a post swimming around in my head, which would prompt me to write, but that has not been the case since I have got married over a year ago. I am not sure why. I would say it’s because I share my ideas, struggles, and feelings with my husband instead, but, even though that is true to an extent, it is not as true as it should be. Those who know me well know that I tend to keep things inside and have trouble expressing what I think and feel.

I haven’t been journaling as much either, and it’s not because I don’t have the time. I have more time now than I did before I got married now that I work part-time and don’t have as many extracurricular commitments.

So the lack of journaling and blogging probably has more to say about my spiritual and emotional state than anything. Pittsburgh has been hard for me in many ways. I have struggled to find my place in the city (besides being a wife and keeper of the home). I used to always have a goal I was working toward (school, getting overseas) and my time was filled with various commitments (ministry, church). So, what I have come to learn is that I had misplaced my identity in those things. Instead of taking my cue from Christ, I was finding my purpose and fulfillment in being busy helping, serving, working towards something – in doing – and had lost sight of the fact that God is not pleased with me because of what I do, but because of what Jesus Christ has already done for me through His life, death, and resurrection.

But Jesus has saw fit to sit me on the sidelines, so to speak. I am learning, though not always joyfully and willingly, to be content with where God has me. The city I live in and the job I have are not my preference, but they are God’s will for me – indeed, they are His gift to me. I have been blessed in many ways in this new season of life, yet I often fell to realize and count those blessings. I think God is trying to teach me both contentment and gratitude, and I have been struggling to embrace the lessons. But, as Elisabeth Elliot always says, “in acceptance lieth peace,” and that anything I offer up to God “can and will become my gateway to joy.” These things are true and I want them to be true of me.

After a year, I feel like I am finally beginning to settle into this city – to accept where God has me and even embrace it. I am learning to laugh at the things that drive me crazy about living here and to lean into God and His daily gifts. Obviously, my husband is a major blessing and my primary calling in being here is to support, love, and submit to him. But another major blessing is our church: Renaissance. We have been so blessed by our brothers and sisters that we worship and serve alongside of. And, because I don’t have to work a full-time job, I have been able to spend time getting to know a handful of women in our church. This has been such a joy. I think one way I can serve God and the church is by getting to know and to encourage and to be encouraged by these women.

It’s the season of Thanksgiving in our country, and I need to pay attention and start counting the many gifts God has given me. There may be things I don’t like about where God has me, but there are far more things for which I should be thankful.

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. – 1 Thess. 5:16-18

The Performer

The Lord has been slowly exposing some deep-rooted sins over the past few months. Trials seem to bring those kinds of things to the surface.

The Father first starting bringing this particular sin to light in late August as I was listening to a Meadow Heights sermon about emotional baggage. The sermon focused on three types of people: The Poser, The Performer, and The Clinger. Each type believed specific lies that fueled them to basically act how their titles described.

I immediately knew which one I was: The Performer. I resonate with the feeling that I am not good enough. Almost every day I feel that I don’t measure up, that I constantly fall short. And, in truth, we all fall short. The Bible is clear that every single person does not and cannot measure up to God’s perfect standard. We repeatedly fall short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23). But if you don’t look to the gospel when you realize/notice/feel like you’ve fallen short, you have no hope and you, therefore, begin placing hope in other things and/or people. And hope that is built on anything other than Christ will always disappoint, will always fail.

In saying I am a performer, I do not mean that I am not genuine or that I’m not the same person at church as I am at home or work or elsewhere. I think, or at least hope, that I am. But it is to say that I sometimes hide my feelings and pretend I have it all together. You may never know that I feel that I don't measure up, but I do. I feel this incredible pressure to be the perfect wife (a pressure that I put on myself and that has by no means been projected onto me by my husband in any way), even though I know there is no such thing. I feel pressure to know the answers to whatever questions may be asked of me. I feel pressure to hold it together; to be strong; to save face – which means that I mask my pain and sorrow and grief and put on a smile and pretend everything is okay. Where this pressure, these lies, come from, I am not completely sure, but they are probably some mix of lies from the past, lies from the enemy, and my own prideful standards. But the source(s) really don't matter as much as the Remedy that eradicates them.

Historic Old Stone Church, Pittsburgh, PA

So all of this has been slowly coming to a head, and it did just that the Sunday before last. We are going through the book of Philippians at Renaissance Church, and that Sunday, the sermon was on 3:1-11. In it, Pastor Rob talked about how Jesus saves us from both our bad works and our good works. The former is what we think about – all the bad things we do, say, and think that cause us to fall short of God’s standard for us. The latter things, the good things, are what we generally rely on to assert our goodness, as if to give us some kind of bargaining chip with God, treating Him like He’s this Great Cosmic Santa who is making His list and checking it twice. But the truth is that the Bible says that our good works, our very best deeds, are filthy, disgusting, soiled rags in the presence of an all-wise, all-good, completely holy and sovereign God (Isaiah 64:6). None of it matters - the good, the bad - only knowing Jesus matters. And even though I know all this, I needed to be reminded of it, which God knew. Pastor Rob reminded us that in Christ we do measure up. In Christ, I measure up. God is not disappointed with me. He is not calculating the minutes I spend in prayer and Bible reading. He doesn’t have a balance in which He keeps my worldly thoughts/actions on one side and more Christ-centered thoughts/actions on the other. He wants me to become more like Christ, yes, but He knows me better than I know myself and He knows that He must help me grow to become like Christ. He is pleased with me because I am in Christ and He is pleased with Christ. He’s not concerned with outward actions mainly, but inward dispositions. He wants me to know Him. I want that too. I need that. Desperately.

So as I was listening to the sermon, God reminded me of Romans 8:1:

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

And that’s when I realized – for weeks I have been believing accusations from the enemy. He has been condemning me every day and I hardly realized it. I just accepted the accusations as truth. I have been believing his lies instead of dwelling on God’s promises. Like the promise of Romans 8:1. But it gets better. Romans 8 goes on to say that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory that awaits us (v. 18). A verse that I have often quoted to others, but not to myself. But it gets even better still. Who can separate us from this love of Christ? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not illness or persecution or trials or spiritual forces or death or even my own made-up standards. Nothing in all creation can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord (v. 31-39).

There is freedom and healing in these truths. I do not have it all together. I need Christ and I need His Church. Christ is everything I need to be.  I measure up because of Christ. He fills in all the areas I fall short. I am not condemned because of Christ. Better things await me because of Christ. God loves me with an unending, never-changing, better-than-I-can-imagine kind of love because of Christ. And these are truths that I need to be reminded of constantly because I seem to forget them constantly. Thank God for His reminders and for His people that help me remember.

My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame,
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name.
Refrain:
On Christ, the solid Rock, I stand;
All other ground is sinking sand,
All other ground is sinking sand. The Solid Rock, Edward Mote