faith – Page 10

He is Our Brave

September 10, 2014 by Ann 6 Comments

I do not think of myself as a naturally brave person. I’ve never been bungee jumping or sky diving—and I have zero desire to do so. I like knowing what’s coming at me, and I prefer having a life that’s fairly scheduled. I’m not a big fan of change. I’ve never done anything particularly heroic or courageous that anyone else would have noticed.

But in this past week, I have been drawn to this song, entitled “You Make Me Brave.” Here are some of the lyrics:

As Your love,
in wave after wave 
Crashes over me,
crashes over me 
For You are for us 
You are not against us 
Champion of Heaven 
You made a way for all to enter in

I have heard You call my name
 I have heard the song of love that You sing 
So I will let You draw me out beyond the shore 
Into Your grace 
Into Your grace

You make me brave 
You make me brave 
You call me out beyond the shore into the waves 
You make me brave 
You make me brave 
No fear can hinder now the love that made a way

Those words remind me of the words of the One who called Joshua to be “strong and courageous” (Joshua 1:9), the words of the One who says that His “perfect love casts out fear” (1 John 4:18) and the One whose words tell me that I am like the matriarch Sarah, if I “do good and do not fear anything that is frightening” (1 Peter 3:6). So much of Scripture is filled with the call to let go of fear and to grasp onto the love of God—the only unfailing love that fills us with courage even as He calls us into new and challenging things.

And as I’ve been thinking about bravery, I feel like God has gently shown me that I have been brave during this last year. Not in ways that anyone else would notice—I have not run into any burning houses or jumped from any helicopters. But I have realized that these last fifteen months of my life—becoming a mama—have required me to be braver than I ever thought I could be. I’ve written before, but the transition into motherhood wasn’t easy for me. I had no idea how it would change everything in my life all at once–and remember, change isn’t easy for me. But, the love of God upheld me. And mothering Ella is simultaneously the most wonderful and the most crazy thing I’ve ever done.

Every day I realize, afresh, that no one else can be her mother. And that requires great bravery from me—to keep saying yes.

Every day, even when I feel like I have very little in my own tank, I say yes to Jesus. And He—He is the one who makes me brave. He is the one who enables me to say yes again to the responsibility and yes to the joy and yes to the exhaustion and yes to the love and yes to the consistency and yes to the laughter and yes to the constant reality is life as a mom. It is costing much of me to be a present, loving mother. I wouldn’t have it any other way. But some days, it is a brave choice for me to show up and love and serve and giggle and clothe and bathe and feed again, one day at a time.

So, to my fellow mamas: you might not be saving the world today, but you are brave. You are raising and loving and serving a little life—or several little lives—and Jesus knows the bravery that requires. He knows the cost. What may not look like much to the outside world—making meals, wiping bottoms, changing clothes, cleaning up Cheerios—looks like bravery from Heaven’s perspective. You are brave for showing up again today, for not pulling your heart out of this beautiful and costly work of mothering. You can be strong and courageous, and you can let His love cast out your fear—because Christ is with you and in you.

He is our brave.

Filed Under: About, Baby, God, Life, Parenting, Uncategorized Tagged With: baby, be you bravely, bethel music, brave, Christianity, faith, Jesus, keep your heart alive, mom, motherhood, newborn, saying yes, you make me brave

It’s OK to Want to Be Famous: An Article at RELEVANT Magazine

September 4, 2014 by Ann 2 Comments

Do you ever feel the desire to be famous? I do. Honestly, I think it’s a desire that is inside all of us at some point or another–and I think it’s a desire that comes from God.

How we use that ache for fame, though–that’s a different story.

Wrestling with this idea is what my newest piece is about over at RELEVANT Magazine. I’d love for you to read it and share your thoughts!

Filed Under: God, Life, Writing Tagged With: C.S. Lewis, celebration, Christianity, desire, faith, fame, famous, I want to be famous, Jesus, RELEVANT, Relevant Magazine

The Timeliness of Fall

August 28, 2014 by Ann Leave a Comment

I love summer. A Midwesterner my entire life, summer has always been an elusive prize, a questionable gamble between the winters that are always just around the corner. But the freedom to wear sandals and shorts and the opportunity to leave the house without mittens and three layers of clothing is an elusiveness I have always been willing to chase. When the first signs of summer come in April, I am hesitant to embrace the summer fully, knowing the weather will argue with itself for several more weeks. But when May finally comes, I paint my toenails and wear my flip-flops, knowing that there are months ahead of sunshine.

By August, I have all but forgotten about the precariousness of summer in the Midwest. It has been warm for three months, and I cannot remember the feel of close-toed shoes. Skirts and sunglasses are my staple; winter coats have been shoved to the back of the closet. And mittens? What are mittens?

But the past several days in my town have brought with them the first signs of fall—rainy afternoons, and even a few leaves that are turning red and yellow. I am starting to remember that winter does exist, and fall is the reminder.

Something happens in my soul every year when summer begins to fade. I start to remember my first days of school, jumping in piles of leaves with my sister, high school homecoming dances, and college football games. I begin to think backwards in time; I take time to remember.

And as I do this, I think of all of the falls and winters and summers and springs that have already taken place. I begin to think of the fading nature of life, and something in me is always surprised at the way that the seasons pass so quickly. I wonder where the summer went—how August is already over and September itself is disappearing. I think about how quickly winter will arrive and I am humbled by the thought of another Thanksgiving, another Christmas, another New Year and another calendar.

I am surprised to find that I am older, and that time affects me, too. I am reminded that my time on this earth is not endless, and that like the leaves on the trees around me, I too, will die. And this is why fall is timely in her arrival. She is a good teacher. Summer feels timeless; fall reminds me of the true nature of time. Her lessons are subtle but true, and I am trying, this year, to heed the education she offers.

The education is this: to know that death is near and not ignore it, but to live brilliantly in the days that are left. Although winter is imminent and sure, although the leaves on the trees will die, the beauty they offer in their fading is one of the most brilliant scenes in nature.

We can know that death is near and not ignore it, but live brilliantly in the days that are left. Share on X

And this is the truth each one of us faces every day; life on this earth is not endless. We will all have a winter to face, and some of us will meet that season sooner than others, sooner than we planned. But we have the opportunity to live our days with brilliance and beauty—and hope. Christ says that he came to give full life—abundant life—to those who walk in relationship with him (John 10:10). Walking in relationship with Jesus gives us the hope of eternal life and the reality of peace and assurance during our life on this earth. In a world that is confused and hurting, our lives with Jesus show the beauty and brilliance of life that is lived with joy, even when there is the constant possibility of death.

I do not know when I will die; none of us do. But fall beckons me to remember that while we will all face physical death, our lives can proclaim the life and truth of Christ—the one who gives us fullness of life on this earth and the next. That is something truly meaningful, and truly brilliant.

Filed Under: God, Life Tagged With: Christianity, death, eternity, faith, fall, God, God's faithfulness, Jesus, leaves, life

An Empty Classroom: Holy Ground

August 27, 2014 by Ann 2 Comments

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.

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.

Filed Under: Life, Ministry, Teaching, Uncategorized Tagged With: Christian education, Christianity, college, college professor, faith, fall, humility, Jesus, learning, teaching, university

Complaining is a Spiritual Problem: An Article for RELEVANT Magazine

August 20, 2014 by Ann 5 Comments

I really don’t like cleaning the dishes. I’d rather fold laundry, change a diaper, vacuum—anything. I will gladly do a lot of things before I have to do the dishes. And we even have a dishwasher.

And although I cringe to admit it, I have complained about “having” to clean the dishes to my husband, my sister, my friends—just about anyone who will listen. Typing that out makes me sound like a whiny 3-year-old. Which, if I’m being honest, is true. Sometimes I act like a spiritual 3-year-old. I complain about dishes, I complain about traffic, I complain about the weather. You name it, I’ve probably complained about it in some form or fashion.

Complaining, griping, whining, grousing—whatever you want to call it, it’s a spiritual problem.

The problem is not, actually, the dirty dishes. And the problem is not the backup on I-355 or the snow that wouldn’t budge for six months.

The problem is me. The problem is how I see the world.

The Center of the Universe

Because when I put myself at the center of existence, everything that isn’t tailor-made to my desires becomes something I can complain about. My husband’s pastoring job that keeps him out late several times a week? I see it as a hindrance to my own personal happiness when I have to eat dinner alone or put our daughter to bed without his help.

The fact that our car busted its water pipe and we have to pay hundreds of dollars for a new one? I see it as money that I shouldn’t have to spend. The laundry that I forgot in the washer for two days that now smells awful and needs to be re-washed? I see it as an inconvenience and an annoyance. The fact that I have to spend hours and hours every week grading stacks of papers that my students may barely review? I see it as a thankless part of my teaching job. All because I am setting myself at the center of my life.

Complaining is a spiritual problem. Share on X

How We Respond to Life Matters to God

Now hear me—I’m not talking about dealing with the very real, very sobering, very heart-wrenching realities that millions of people in the world face every day. Horrible things are happening in this country and around the world as I type this, and as Christians, we are called to attend to the hurting and poor and to offer help that is both spiritual and tangible. Those things deserve true grieving and tears and a mighty response of compassion. Complaining about life and seeking justice for genuine wrongs are two different things.

But that’s not what this is about. This is about the daily complaints that I mutter—that many of us mutter—in the regularity of our lives. I’m not trying to make myself or anyone else feel guilty about “first-world problems,” because most of us reading this will never face starvation or genocide. But what we will face is our own lives, and how we respond to our own lives matters to God, because it is the only life we can live.

And so this is where I must turn to the truth of a different reality—one where I’m not the sun that everything else is circling around. The Bible tells me about this different reality, about a King and His Kingdom, and it tells me that I am decidedly not at the center of this world.

1 Corinthians 4:7 asks the question: “What do you have that you did not receive?” And to that question, I must reply: nothing. My husband who works late for his job? Both the man and his job are gifts from God, who has given me a spouse and has provided for our family through that job. The car that needs repairing? That car is a gift from God: it transports us to where we need to go, safely and quickly. The washing machine that holds smelly laundry? That is a gift from God that enables us to wash our clothes easily and effectively. The job that keeps me glued to my desk? That is a gift from God that allows me to use my talents in ways that help others.

Choosing to see the gifts in front of me is the quickest way to stop complaining in my life. Share on X

The Gift

All of it, a gift. And when I see from this perspective, I have no room for complaint. Yes, there are many difficult days in this life we live, but everything we have—even the lemon of a car or the job that keeps us up late—all of these things are gifts from a generous God. “Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change” (James 1:17)

So when the traffic slows or the weather freezes or the dishes pile up, I have a choice. I can see myself at the center of the world and grouse about everything that doesn’t make my life easier. Or I can acknowledge the truth that I am not on any throne, but that the King who is has given me everything I have—even my heart beating in my chest—as a gift.

And so here is what I can offer instead of complaint: thankfulness. Gratefulness. Praise.

Click here to read this article at RELEVANT, where it was originally published!

Filed Under: God, Guest Post, Life, Writing Tagged With: Christian marriage, Christianity, church, complaining, complaining is a spiritual problem, faith, guest post, Jesus, RELEVANT, Relevant Magazine, soul tired, spiritual problem, whining

Getting the Royal Room: How the Worst Led to the Best

August 18, 2014 by Ann 1 Comment

Sorry for the radio silence over here. Michael and I spent last week on a marriage/counseling retreat (it was SO GOOD), and I really unplugged as much as I could in order to focus on what God was doing in my inner life. It’s amazing, really, to take extended time to consider what’s going on internally and work through it with God and with your spouse. I think I will have more to share about our time there later, but I need to do some more processing with God on my own before I crack that egg open in this space.

I keep meaning to share one of our unexpected experiences from our time in the United Kingdom. In case you missed it, we spent about two weeks in England and Scotland last month (yes, we took Ella with us!), which was so refreshing for this woman who loves to travel and see the world. We went to Oxford, the Peak District, Edinburgh, and London–in that order. By the time we got to London, we were lagging a bit–two weeks overseas with a baby is a lot. Thankfully, we were staying in a lovely hotel we found last-minute once we learned that our original reserved hotel did not have air-conditioning (it was in the 80s…England is not big on A/C). Like most London hotels, the rooms were small. We didn’t mind–there was room for our bed and a Pack n Play, so we were happy.

But the first night we were there, cigarette smoke started pouring in through the air conditioning vent. Initially, I thought I must have been imagining it. It was a non-smoking hotel, and I’m overly sensitive to smoke, so I thought maybe I was smelling something on my clothes, or it was coming in through a window. But after about half an hour of increased smoke, I called the front desk. They immediately arranged for a room change, and two bellhops helped us carry all of our (now-opened) luggage and a sleeping baby into a new room across the hotel.

Ella didn’t wake up while I carried her through the hotel lobby like a pajama-ed sack of potatoes. Alleluia.

Unfortunately, that new room was right next to the housekeeping closet, and I heard that door slamming until midnight. Ella kept sleeping, but this mama didn’t.

The next night, I requested–three times–that they not slam the door, or that they put a towel in the door to keep it from slamming, etc. No luck. The door kept slamming, keeping me up past eleven. I may sound like a wimp, but 11 pm for me now feels like 4 am did in college. It’s way past my bedtime. I was exhausted, and sad that our vacation was ending on this note.

We had become friends with one of the receptionists at the hotel, and the next morning I told her about the slamming door. I wanted to see if she could ask if a towel could permanently be put in the door frame, or if her request for quiet would carry more weight than mine.

Instead, she said that she was going to give us the best room in the hotel for that night–our last night in England. It was a room built by a king, literally. They took our luggage upstairs and we opened the door.

And I laughed and laughed and laughed.

The bathroom was bigger than our living room.

The bedroom was bigger than the main level of our home.

It was ridiculously nice. It was unbelievably big. It was too much. I went back down to the lobby to tell our friend at the desk that we were overwhelmed. She smiled.

And as I walked through our new hotel room, unable to stop laughing, I was reminded of the ridiculousness of God’s extravagance in giving his own Son for us. I felt like he reminded me that his love and his grace are like this–unexpected, undeserved, unbelievably big. Too much for me to take in or understand. And it makes him happy to see me receive his love and grace with laughter and open arms and joy.

We enjoyed that room and we all slept well. And I know that although that room was originally built by a king, it was the King Himself that gave us such a sweet and undeserved gift that last night in England. It was a gift I’ll never forget, and one I’m truly grateful for.

Filed Under: God, Life, Uncategorized Tagged With: blessings, Christianity, England, faith, faith in God, hotel, hotel upgrade, living like a king, london, traveling in the UK, traveling with kids, trusting God, upgrade