Flowers, Thistles, and Thorns: Meeting Jesus in Places of Pain

Meeting Jesus in Places of Pain... www.annswindell.comI was at an upscale grocery store recently, admiring the tubs full of flowers, when I noticed a bouquet full of lilies, and carnations, and thistles.

Thistles?

Yes, thistles. Prickly, spiky, gray, and full of thorns. It wasn’t a mistake; I checked. Every bouquet in that bucket had a handful of thistles nudged between the flowers and greenery. And they actually looked–dare I say it?–rather lovely. Those thistles didn’t look soft, and they certainly didn’t look inviting. But they grounded the rest of the flowers with their solemnity and honesty. The thistles, prickly as they were, added an unexpected beauty to the bouquet as a whole. 

And I was reminded: this is the good news of the Gospel.

Stay with me.

All of us have thistles in our lives–those painful, thorny parts of our story that we’d rather do without. The broken relationships, the physical aches, the experiences that we wish we could erase. None of our lives are all flowers and sunshine. We have gray places, dark places, things that still feel like they can prick us if we touch them with our memories.

But–here again is that great, surprising news of the Gospel–even the thorns and thistles in our lives can prove themselves beautiful if they point us to Jesus and lead us into more intimacy with him. I think of the Apostle Paul who writes so honestly about begging the Lord to take away his “thorn in the flesh”–that unnamed pain that the Lord never healed–and hearing Christ tell him that His power is made perfect in our weakness.

Those things that make life so challenging–those thorns and thistles–what if we asked God to help us see those places as gateways to his heart? As open doors for his power in our weakness? As opportunities for grace to be abundant? What if we saw the thorns and thistles as part of the bouquet of our lives–not things that make us ugly and undesirable, but as parts of our story that ground us in Christ’s goodness and in the unexpected beauty of a redeemed life?

Those things that make life so challenging--what if we asked God to help us see those places as gateways to his heart? Share on X

Because Jesus, perfect as he was, didn’t get past the difficult parts of life, either. In fact, he knows the pain of thorns more fully than any of us do: the thorns lodged in his skin as a mocking crown when he paid for our brokenness and sin on the cross.

In the midst of our own pains and hurts, let us rest our gaze on the One who wore the crown of thorns for us. Let us, as the old hymn says, “turn our eyes upon Jesus,” and see that he can make even the prickliest, difficult aspects of our lives into gateways of hope and redemption as he meets us in our pain. That’s the promise of life with Jesus–not ease, but intimacy; not painlessness, but purpose; not comfort, but camaraderie with Him.

Jesus makes even the prickliest, difficult aspects of our lives into gateways of hope and redemption as he meets us in our pain. Share on X

Yes, that’s good news of thistles in bouquets: the joy of Jesus making even the hard parts of our story lovely in their own way–unexpectedly beautiful–as he redeems them by his grace. 

Meeting Jesus in Places of Pain. www.annswindell.com

Taking Care of Each Other

I’m honored to be writing for (in)courage today, sharing my heart about friendship and learning to receive care from those who love us. The article starts below, but you can link straight to (in)courage here!

Our value is not found in what we do but in  whom we belong to. www.annswindell.com

It had been a particularly difficult week, and after a short trip to visit my parents, I was dreading the return to “real life”—a life that I loved but one that currently felt like more than I could handle. We were trying to get our house on the market—a house we would already be losing money on—and had experienced multiple setbacks. I had been sick, the bitterly cold winter was relentless, and my daughter was having trouble sleeping. I was tired, emotionally shot, and worried about our finances with the house.

Still, I had to return to my life, difficult or not. But when I turned the key to our front door, what I found surprised me. It was cleaner than I’d left it! I opened a card on the table and discovered why: my friend Katie had cleaned, left dinner in the fridge, and stuck notes on surfaces throughout the house—notes that reminded me of my value in Christ and His love for me.

I was overwhelmed.

Because I felt—how else can I say it?—I felt taken care of. There is no other way to articulate why Katie’s actions meant so much to me. She had cleaned my house—the house I felt responsible to clean. She had provided dinner for my family—the meal I felt responsible to cook. And she had reminded me that my value was not in what I did, but in whose I was—Christ’s.

As a wife, mom, and teacher, most of my days are spent taking care of others. I rub backs, prepare meals, kiss cheeks, tie shoes, wash dishes, mentor students, write checks, grade papers and give lectures—along with a hundred other things. I can guess that you do numerous things, too. You may not be grading papers or preparing meals, but you’re probably caring for others somehow. You’re probably taking care of those around you.

I think that, as women, we are used to being the nurturers, the ones who take care of others.

But how often do we let others take care of us? How often do we ask others to take care of us?

Please click over and read the rest of the article here, at (in)courage! You can also sign up here to receive free daily encouragement from the writers of (in)courage, right in your inbox! 

 

Trusting God When Life Changes

Endings are that strange and mystical combination of sorrow punctuated with joy, of hope dancing with nostalgia. Our little family is coming to the end of many things in these coming weeks as we prepare for what is ahead, and within a two-week span, both Michael and I are coming to the end of jobs we have loved and lived for years.

Trusting God When Life Changes: The Joy of Walking with Jesus. www.annswindell.com

Yesterday was Michael’s last day on staff as a pastor at the church that we have been a part of for nearly eight years. We are moving to a new state so that he can finish his seminary degree, and yesterday we had the gift of preaching (together!) one last time to the church community that has so richly shaped us.

We are thankful. Thankful for fellow believers who have pointed us to Jesus and ministered to us even as we have ministered to them. Thankful for the countless nights of small groups and meetings and prayer times and worship sessions. Thankful for truth spoken to us on wonderful and difficult days. Thankful for weddings and babies and celebrations of many kinds. Thankful for friends who have held us up and counted the cost with us. Thankful for camaraderie in the Kingdom.

But new beginnings cannot come without endings, and yesterday was a day of ending our official ties with that church family. Tears? Yes. Laughter? Yes. Hugs? Most definitely, yes.

And also, expectation. For the first time in my life, I am not terrified of the unknown. Perhaps, for you, change is a wonderful and heady thing. For me, change has always felt gut-wrenching, difficult, gear-grinding tight. I have never loved change; I have usually avoided it.

But in this season where God has invited us to lay down all that we have known and step into something strikingly new, I am filled with hope. I am filled with expectation. I am filled, even, with joy.

I am learning that this joy is the fruit of obedience; joy is the natural response of saying “Yes!” to God. 

Jesus talks about this very thing right before he obeys all the way to his death on the cross. He is sharing his heart with his closest friends, here in the hours before his dying:

    “As the Father has loved me, so have I loved you. Now remain in my love. If you keep my commands, you will remain in my        love, just as I have kept my Father’s commands and remain in his love. I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and      that your joy may be complete.” John 15:9-11

God loves us. He loves us! And when we obey his commands–when we say yes to him–we not only experience his love, but we receive the treasure trove of joy he has to offer.

What kindness! We are broken, sinful, selfish people, and yet when we make the choice to obey God (which is what we should do anyway) he meets us in the place of obedience with love and with joy. Love and joy–the two things our hearts desire perhaps most of all–are found in obedience to God.

Love and joy--the two things our hearts desire perhaps most of all--are found in obedience to God. Share on X

And this is the pearl that God is forming in me in this season. As I rub up against the pain of leaving our home and our community for what he is calling us into, I am finding that there is such deep joy in obedience that I hardly know what to do with it.  At present, the circumstances we are in are foggy at best: timing, finances and jobs are all up in the air. But I am so hopeful. So expectant. So joy-filled!

As one who used to be so afraid of change, I am surprised to find such tenderness in my heart. I have moments of fear and concern, of course, but I have more moments of joy and delight. And I am thankful. I am thankful that as good things are coming to an end, I know there is deeper joy up ahead–not because of the circumstances, but because Jesus is there.

He is, after all, the pearl of greatest price, the treasure trove of joy himself.

As we obey his call, I am meeting Jesus afresh at every turn. And the joy in him is the greatest gift of all.

 

Dating Your Spouse: No Excuses

My newest piece is up at Todays Christian Woman, entitled “5 Reasons to Avoid Date Night (But Why You Should Date Your Spouse Anyway). Michael and I have had a standing date every week of our married lives–this article shares my heart behind why we’re so committed to dating one another in every season of life!

Dating Your Spouse: Connection, communication, partnership, love. Read this!

We’ve all heard about the importance of consistent dates with our spouse. It sounds ideal—a romantic date every week—but there are a thousand reasons why it feels difficult (if not impossible) to make happen.

Here are five reasons to avoid date night. Oh, and why you should date your spouse anyway.

1. “Dating Is Too Expensive”

If you’re talking about the versions of dating that pop up on social media and TV, then, yes, you’re probably right. Expensive restaurants, Broadway shows, sparkling jewelry—most of us would be thrilled if we got a date like this with our spouse once a year, or even once a decade. Because those kinds of dates, with the wining and dining and trying to impress each other all the time, aren’t feasible for most of us.

But there is something that is feasible: connection. Connection comes not through the amount of money spent, but the amount of heart invested. Some of the best dates my husband and I have had took place during walks at the local arboretum. Strolling on the paths, we had time to unfold our hearts to one another and to enjoy holding hands in a lovely setting.

Connection comes not through the amount of money spent, but the amount of heart invested. Share on X

Now that we have a child, if we want to have any meaningful connection, it usually has to take place after she’s asleep or when we’re out and she’s with a babysitter. We try to have a date night out at least once a month. If we’re paying for a babysitter, our date is usually cheap (or free). We go for walks in the park, have coffee at a local café, or read part of a book together at the library. Make a list of cheap date night ideas with your spouse and pick one!

If money is really tight and there’s no option for paying a babysitter, consider swapping childcare with friends. You can also get creative with at-home dates. Turn your phones off and cook a late meal together after the kids go down. Watch a unique film you’re both interested in, and if you are so inclined, talk about it afterwards. Get competitive with a card game. Relax with a new flavor of ice cream bought especially for date night. What you do doesn’t matter as much as the choice you make to invest your time and attention in one another.

2. “I Don’t Have Time”

If you let other people control your calendar, then, yes, you’re probably right. There’s always going to be one more meeting, project, or sports practice that you—or one of your kids—has to be at. But ask yourself this:  Would you ignore your child’s query for dinner as easily as you can ignore your spouse’s (or your own) need to talk?

Would you ignore your boss’s requests for that deadline as easily as you ignore your marriage’s need for connection time? Share on X

We make time for what we value. If you value your marriage and the person you made a covenant at the altar to love, you need to make time for your spouse.

Prior to marriage, many of us had months—perhaps even years—of lavishing time upon one another. Dates stretched into hours upon hours of conversation and laughter. We prioritized our significant other above other relationships and our time bent toward him accordingly. While we may not have time for hours-long dates any more, we can make intentional time for one another if we really want to. We can say no to another meeting, no to another sports team, and no to another obligation. And in the process, we can say yes to a standing date with our spouse on Tuesday nights or Friday mornings or Sunday afternoons—no excuses. Just as no friendship is sustainable without consistent connection, no marriage will thrive without consistent time together.

When you put a consistent date night on the calendar, you’re telling your spouse that you value your relationship above all others. It’s worth it.

3. “My Marriage Is Beyond Help”

If your marriage is in a difficult place, sometimes the thought of spending intentional time together feels confusing—or even painful. The idea of a night full of forced conversation (or lackluster intimacy) may not be your idea of a good time. But if a marriage is going to heal, connection has to start somewhere. And dates don’t always have to be fun to be meaningful. Sometimes working through deep issues on a date night is just as important as laughing together.

Perhaps your date nights don’t look like a cozy evening on the couch or a hand-holding walk through the park. Where can you start? Might a meal together outside of the home provide an opportunity for conversation that doesn’t revolve around the kids or work? Could a morning jog together offer a chance to connect in a different—and still meaningful—way? Would you be able to attend a Bible study or small group together?

If all of this still feels too hard, it might be that your dates need to be at a counselor’s office, where you can work through pain in a safe environment. The point of a “date” is to get closer to your spouse. Don’t assume that dating your spouse has to look one particular way. Start where you are, and move forward from there.

Read the final two reasons here, over at Today’s Christian Woman!

If you liked this post, you might enjoy: Dating Your Husband: The Hows and Whys.

Was this blog post encouraging to you? I would be honored if you would consider partnering with me as a writerClick here!

The Greatness of Smallness

True greatness comes from smallness before God and people

Most of my life, I’ve felt a tug toward greatness. You know–that feeling that burns deep and can push us wide? Deep because we know that we were created to do important, meaningful, gorgeous things in the world. Wide because we look around us at all that we aren’t doing and see people who seem great in our eyes–people who carry great influence, great ideas, great power.

And that feeling in me, that yearning for greatness–that ache can make me feel very small.

Small because I don’t have great influence.

Small because I don’t often think my ideas are great.

Small because what power I do have doesn’t come out on great, big stages.

And sometimes that smallness feels very shameful to me, as if I should be doing something bigger and greater and more important with my life. I look around and I see a messy house and words typed on pages and I see papers to grade and I think: what if I’ve missed it? What if I’m never great in the way I long to be?

And then what rises up in me is the desire to do it on my own: to try to push my way into greatness. If I can work harder, think deeper, be better—then, perhaps, greatness will fall upon me like a cape. If I just keep driving my way forward, maybe I can make this happen. Perhaps I can be the key that unlocks that elusive door into the greatness that I desire.

And this is why, friends, I can often feel so tired. And discouraged. Because it doesn’t matter how hard I push, that door to my perceived vision of greatness won’t budge. I can’t fling that door open. I can’t even crack it open. All of my efforts are failures.

And as I was praying yesterday, asking God to crack open something in my heart and not just my circumstances, I heard Him speak: Live small to be great. And I was reminded of those unexpected words from Jesus in Matthew 23, words that slay me and humble me.

Live small to be great. Share on X

But first, some background: Here, in Matthew 23, Jesus is talking with his disciples and with the crowds, and he is cautioning them–cautioning them from living the way their religious leaders live. These leaders, the Pharisees, they’re walking shams. They love to get noticed in a crowd, Jesus says–they love the best seats in the house and the honor that comes with being a leader. They look spiritual and they soak up attention like sponges.

They wield great influence. 

They say they have great ideas.

They love having great power. 

But they’re liars. They refuse to practice what they preach, and their influence and ideas actually tie up the souls of their listeners with heavy burdens. They have power, yes. But rather than setting people free, they’re making spiritual slaves through their hypocrisy.

They do all their deeds to be seen by others,” Jesus cautions. There is nothing in them that really wants to serve others. They just want attention. 

And now they’ve gotten it. The King of the Universe is paying attention, that King padding around in calloused flesh, and the attention they draw is damning. Their lives are all about themselves, when they should be pointing people to God.

And these are the words that slay and humble me, the words that upend me. It’s Jesus himself speaking to his followers, to the Pharisees, to me:

“The greatest among you shall be your servant. Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.”

I am slain, my heart cut open by the knife of scripture, and I see, again, that I have not been seeing at all. That the greatness I am scrolling through on social media and envying and wanting is not greatness, but a sham. It is not that these people I follow are shams, but that my perception of true greatness if skewed. I look at my fellow humans and I see their influence, their ideas, and their power, and I want what they have.

And that is what cuts; what I really need–what my soul actually wants–is God. For ultimately, there is no power apart from him, no influence apart from him, no idea apart from him. Standing in front of the God of the Heavens, the Maker and Creator of all, we are, each one of us, minutely small. There is only one who is great, and He–Christ Jesus–became the servant of all. Unlike the Pharisees, he did practice what he preached. He took the lowest road, the humblest form, the surest pain–all because He is truly great, and that greatness led him to the deepest humility. It led Jesus to becoming the smallest of all things: human. One of us.

The swirling power of the ages, bound up in a baby’s fist. The influence greater than all kings of the earth, unfolded in the cry of a child. The ideas of time and space and all wisdom and knowledge, solidified into the flesh of a human. A small, humble, needy child. The Christ child. Jesus.

It’s backwards.

And it’s perfectly right.

Greatness is smallness, servanthood, humility.

It is not power, ideas, and influence. 

Greatness is smallness, servanthood, humility. Share on X

I can serve the ones who live in the messy house in front of me. I can humble myself on the page with my words. I can make myself small in front of my students so that Christ can be big in their eyes. And with God’s grace, I will.

And then, worked out over the course of a small life, I can be great before the only One who truly matters. Lord, help me. I want to be truly great.