Secure and Steadfast: Learning to Trust

SECURE and STEADFAST-LEARNING TO TRUST

Some of you may already know, but it’s not something I’ve shared in this space yet: we are moving this summer, to a new city and a new adventure. My husband will be in graduate school for the next three-ish years, and we will be closer to family as he studies and works on finishing his degree.

There are so many things I’m excited about in this transition–a new city to explore, new relationships to form, being next door to my sister, opportunities to grow. Most of all, I’m excited to follow the Lord, as this is the next door he has opened for us in this great journey of walking with Him.

But I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t nervous, too. I’ve lived in Chicagoland for all of my adult life; Michael and I have been in this same city for over a decade. We have a rich community of friends and a church that we love. We have jobs. None of these things that have been so central and grounding for us in this town will be present when we move this summer.

And so it feels like starting all over again–and, in many ways, it is. As a recovering control-freak, all of the details of moving–selling the house, looking for jobs, finding a new home, making new friendships–these have the ability to freak. me. out. If I spend too much time thinking about those things, I start spiraling into a mental place of worry, fear, and doubt. I imagine all of the things that could go wrong and all of the ways that this move might not go well.

But God is continually calling me back to one thing: trusting Him. I mentioned it on my Instagram account earlier this month, but my word for the year is TRUST. I always need to trust Jesus, but this year in particular, when all of the cards of our life are up in the air, I feel the need to trust God in a deeper way, perhaps in a way I haven’t felt the need to trust him before. I need to trust him, deeply and wholeheartedly, with our family’s finances, our family’s friendships, and our family’s future. Because I have no idea how any of those things will get worked out in the next six months.

And yet, hasn’t this always been the case? Of course it has; it’s just that the trusting hasn’t felt as desperate in the past. I have always needed to trust God to give me even my daily bread, but I don’t always think that way. In truth, I have nothing apart from him and I am nothing apart from him. But when life starts rolling along, that desperation of needing to rely on Jesus tends to fade for me.

So here I stand, at the start of a year that will look nothing like it does at the end of it. In twelve months, nearly everything externally will have changed. But Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever, and I am aware of my deep need to trust in him afresh. Trusting is difficult at times; I don’t always feel a deep sense of security or safety. But trusting God does not always mean that we feel secure or steadfast–it means that He is secure and steadfast, regardless of our feelings.

Trusting God does not mean that we feel secure or steadfast--it means that He is secure and steadfast, regardless of our feelings. Share on X

He is constant in his kindness, his salvation, and his love. He is a good Father who gives good gifts to his children. I can rely on who He is even when I’m not sure where I’m going–practically or emotionally. And so this year, I am choosing to trust him, again and again. He is good, and his love endures forever.

He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?

I can count on Him to lead us and care for us. You can, too. Here’s to a year of wholehearted, un-hindered trust in Jesus–the One who is completely trustworthy.

The Best Resolution

 

The best resolution at www.annswindell.com

I’m not sure that I’ve ever really made a New Year’s Resolution. I’m not someone who gets really envisioned by these types of things. But there is one type of resolution I made nearly a decade a ago that has utterly transformed my life. 

I seek to spend time with Jesus every. single. day.

Of course, there are days when life gets a little too crazy and I don’t manage to get time with him, but by and large, I spend time with the Lord every day of the week, every week of the year. I don’t say this because I’m fantastic; I say this because I’m a broken and sinful person, desperately in need of the healing and love of Christ every. single. day. It’s spiritual life and death for me; spending time with Jesus is the only thing that keeps me hopeful, kind, and loving–because He is hopeful, kind, and loving. When I spend time with him, I become more like him, and that is what I need most of all.

When it comes to getting time reading the Word, praying and journaling, I’m committed to spending daily time with Jesus because I’ve discovered that more than time and money, more than romance and entertainment, more than fame and Facebook, Jesus is worth everything. Absolutely everything. He holds time in his hands and he, himself, is everything of value. He is the deepest love and the richest reward. He is the only famous one and the friend of all. He is the prize. He is the treasure. He is the King.

And I have been given the gift of not only being saved from my sin but also of being healed from the inside out by his love and mercy and grace. Spending time with him is a deep privilege. Knowing him is an opportunity greater than any offered on this earth.

If you want some practical ideas for spending time with Jesus, I’ve shared my heart on getting to know him intentionally–you can read about those thoughts here.

So as 2015 whispers in like a song yet to be sung, let’s turn our time and our hearts, again, to Jesus. He is so worthy, friends. And completely available to meet with us every day of the year.

Faith is Spelled R-I-S-K

“Faith,” I heard a pastor say several years ago, “is spelled R-I-S-K.”

Scripture, of course, gets the final word on defining faith, and the book of Hebrews tells us that “faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” But I see the connection between the Scripture and the words of my pastor, because being “convicted of something we do not see” requires a certain amount of risk. Think of Abraham with a knife in his hand, holding it over his son, Isaac. Think of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, refusing to worship an idol and being flung into the blazing furnace. Think of Daniel continuing to pray even though he knew there was a pit of lions waiting. Think of Esther approaching the king without being summoned. Think of Mary, unwed, saying yes to carrying the Savior. Think of Matthew, leaving the tax booth and a steady job to follow a poor rabbi. And think of Jesus, hanging on a cross for sins that were not his. All of these men and women risked: they risked their security, they risked their reputations, and they risked their very lives because they believed. Because they were people of faith.

But risking is scary business. I can’t imagine that Abraham wasn’t shaking when he held that knife overhead, or that Daniel wasn’t knocking his knees when he faced the lions. Mary was probably afraid of what her family—and the town—would think when her belly started growing. And Jesus himself was so overwhelmed in the garden that he was sweating drops of blood before his betrayer came.

Faith is spelled RISK

In my own life, too, faith and risk seem to go hand-in-hand. Several years ago, when God called my husband into full-time ministry, our church was unable to pay him—and wouldn’t be able to pay him for at least five months. God was asking us to step out in faith, trust him, and take the job anyway. I was scared; it was risky. We had a mortgage and bills, but we said yes. And God met us in our need. He provided.

And a little while ago, my daughter and I were circling the grocery store. As we passed one of the employees, I felt a nudge from God. I knew what I was supposed to do, but I hemmed and hawed for a few minutes, feeling the social awkwardness of breaking the silence between two strangers and—gulp—trying to talk about Jesus.

Finally, I walked up to her.

“I’m sorry; I know this is kind of random, but I’m a Christian, and I really feel like God wants you to know that he loves you.”

She looked at me, and immediate tears came to her eyes—and mine. I felt the love and presence of God there in that aisle in the grocery store. And I knew that Jesus loved this woman more than I could ever have imagined.

“Wow,” she said quietly. And then, “thank you.”

I nodded. We chatted a bit longer and talked about faith and Jesus; I invited her to church.

At the grocery store that day, God was asking me to step out in faith and take the risk of not knowing what to say or how she would respond.

But even in that small risk, I met Jesus in that place.

So when we walk into our daily risks of faith with our hands shaking and our knees knocking and our bank accounts dwindling and our grocery carts circling, we don’t have to go with great confidence.

We just need to go, fear and all.

Because we will meet Jesus there.

Life is Too Short: Reflections on the Influence Conference

influence.friends.1

Up until the end of August, I hadn’t even planned on going to the Influence Conference. But as I saw women talking about the conference online, something kept tugging at my heart. I felt like I was supposed to be there.

Now, I knew it was a big leap. We have a young daughter, my husband was going to be out of town the weekend before, and we tend to have a lot of church events on the weekends.

But Michael and I prayed about it, and we both felt like I should go.

So, I did. Bought the ticket, booked the hotel room, filled the car with gas and drove. I had to be back by Saturday night, so the time was fast but so rich. I connected with so many wonderful women, talked about things that truly matter, and slept in a hotel room all by myself (glory, glory, hallelujah)! The weekend was a gift from God, truly.

I’m grateful.

influence.friends.dinner

God opened up many places in my heart last weekend, but one of the biggest things I’m wrestling through is what Lara Casey spoke about on Friday night. She walked us through a workshop focused on some very powerful questions, and although it is incredibly simple, the one phrase that I keep coming back to is this one, which she asked us to answer on our own: “Life is too short.”

Life is too short to make it all about me.

Life is too short to not obey Jesus wholeheartedly.

Life is too short to live out of fear.

These are huge statements, when the rubber actually meets the road. If life is too short to make it all about me, what has to change in how I think, how I respond, what I spend my time doing? If life is too short to not obey Jesus wholeheartedly, how do I have to start living and thinking differently? If life is too short to live out of fear, where do I need to let His perfect love chase away those places tangled up in being afraid?

I’m just starting to scratch the surface of these things, but these questions have the power to change my life, in the best way. Life is too short for anything less than all of my heart, all of my attention, all of my focus on Christ.

So, now it is your turn. How would you answer this phrase?

Life is too short.

And because I know there a lot of women who wanted to go to the conference but couldn’t, I want to share my #influenceconf swag bag with one of you! Check out my Instagram account to toss your hat in the ring–and hopefully, win!

An Empty Classroom: Holy Ground

This is the week that school starts at the college where I teach. As a college prof I get to claim most of the month of August for the summer–but this last week is decidedly Fall for me. It may still be 90 degrees outside, and the trees may still be heavy with green, but Fall is here for me. The students are on campus, unpacking boxes and purchasing books, and I am a teacher once again.

empty classroom

Yesterday, I spent several hours preparing lesson plans, making sure my course syllabus was ready to go, prepping the course website, and thinking about the semester ahead.

I have the privilege of teaching.

I have the opportunity to speak into the lives of the upcoming generation.

I have the chance to point them to Jesus.

I stood in the empty classroom where I will spend two hours every Tuesday and Thursday for the remainder of the year, and I was grateful. I know there will be conversations and questions and debates and weighty thoughts in this classroom. I felt very small in that classroom, in the best way possible. It is not my classroom. It is His.

God is the leader of these students. He made them and created them, and I have the charge of stewarding their education for a few hours every week, and so I always walk into the classroom with awe and also with fear. Because I know that although I am a teacher, I also know that my own training and skill is not what these students ultimately need. I will teach them about writing, yes, but my prayer is that God will be glorified and that these students will know and love him more at the end of the semester than they do now. I pray the same for myself, for I know I will be impacted by them, too.

Lord, give me words to speak that honor you. Give me a heart that is attentive to your presence among us. And give me a mind that points always back to you, for the fear of the Lord really is the beginning of wisdom.

I start teaching tomorrow. Pray for me? I always need it.

Getting The Real Things Done

The Truth About Being a Great Mom (1)

I am one of those people who really enjoys feeling on top of things. My husband can vouch for the fact that I am the most stressed when I feel like I’m “falling behind” in life or when I feel like opportunities are slipping away because I’m running out of time. Part of this is due to my personality and my high “Achiever” strength on StrengthsFinder (any other SF nerds out there? We love it in our household and on our church staff!). Let’s just say this: I love getting things done. I love being productive. I love ticking things off of my to-do list. You now no longer need to wonder why I loved being a student for so many years.

But since Ella joined our family–really, even before that because of how sick I was during pregnancy–my ability to “get things done” has decreased. A lot.

Well, let me clarify. I get a lot of things done every day. I spend time with the Lord. I connect with my husband. I snuggle with my daughter. I feed her. I keep her clean. We play together. We read books and buy groceries together and I talk to her about this world she has joined. Most days I get a workout in, some days I even make dinner. Some days I write. I do a lot.

But in a world of resumes and Instagram and Facebook, I don’t always have a lot to “show” for my days. And for this “achiever,” that can push my buttons. Because when I publish an article, or when I teach a class, or when I show up for a meeting, the outside world knows that I’m doing something.

Smiles together

But here in our home, the only one who sees most of what I do is God. And I am learning to not only accept that, but delight in that. Because although it rubs me the wrong way sometimes that I can’t measure my life anymore by the grades I receive on papers or the scores I get on tests or the things I “do” every day that have external measurements, God is teaching me a different kind of measurement.

Faithfulness. Obedience. Trust.

Am I loving my Savior? Loving my husband? Loving my daughter? Faithfulness.

Am I serving God’s people? Serving my husband? Serving my daughter? Obedience.

Am I giving God my dreams and desires? Choosing to walk in peace? Believing the Word of God? Trust.

These are the markers of my life these days, now more than ever. Yes, I still teach and write and serve in our church. I have external ways that I could judge my own life, but those things will drive me crazy because I will never measure up to those around me. But here, in my own life, I can respond to what God has called me to: Faithfulness. Obedience. Trust.

And while I can’t “achieve” any of these things on my own, as I walk with Jesus daily, he is growing me in these things.

And I am learning about getting the real things done–the eternal things.

Faithfulness. Obedience. Trust.