Meeting My Hero: Elisabeth Elliot

After my freshman year in college, I went to England for seven weeks through a study abroad program. Our first week during the trip was spent in London, and on Sunday most of us went to a small church that one of our professors recommended. It was a church built out of grey stone, cool on the inside and airy.

Meeting Elisabeth Elliot-Grace Unfolded

During the service, the pastor announced that they had a guest speaker present, an American woman who would be sharing her testimony with the congregation. She had been a missionary for many years, he noted, and she had lost her first husband as a result of such missionary work. The woman he was introducing was Elisabeth Elliot.

I nearly fell out of the pew. During my first year in college, Elisabeth Elliot had become a literary mentor to me through her book Passion and Purity. I read about her life with fascination and awe, as well as with a sense of closeness—years before, she had been a student at the college I was attending, and while I read the book I sat in some of of the same places she described within her pages.

This book challenged and touched me for many reasons, one of which was that it is a book about Elisabeth’s love story with Jim Elliot, how the two fell in love and then surrendered this love to the Lord for five years until they were married. There were months when the two could not communicate, years when they only saw one another for a few days at a time. Their story of God’s provision and their commitment to purity is truly incredible; their love is the stuff of fairy tales.

Elisabeth’s life, however, has not been a fairy tale. Less that two and a half years after their marriage in 1953, Jim and four other men went to share the Gospel with the Auca people, a native tribe in Ecuador. All five men were speared to death, and Elisabeth was left as a single mother. Instead of folding into herself, however, Elisabeth soon took her young daughter and went back to the jungle, back to the same Auca tribe that had killed her husband. She went to share the Gospel with them, and through her strength, courage and faithfulness to the vision she believed God had given to her a Jim, many in the tribe of self-proclaimed killers came to faith in Christ and gave up their murderous ways.

Sitting in that church in England, I was overwhelmed with emotion as I heard her speak about her life and faith in Christ. I could not believe that it was actually Elisabeth Elliot standing 15 feet in front of me—this woman whose words has shaped me so deeply was in the same room! Later, I asked for her signature in one of her books and smiled at this living hero across from me. I still don’t know why she was at that small church in England on the one particular Sunday when I happened to be across the world in the same church. Whatever the reason, I know that morning was a gift.

Elisabeth has entered into glory, now. She is with Jesus, her greatest prize.

Although she wrote many books and spoke across the world, Elisabeth Elliot was not flashy, was not self-focused and she did not even have an “issue” that she campaigned for—hers was a message of a God who is faithful, regardless of the circumstances. In her own circumstances of losing Jim to Auca spears and her second husband to cancer, she stayed the course and lived as a testimony of Christ’s sufficiency in a world that increasingly tells us otherwise. In Passion and Purity, she asks herself:

“…The question to precede all others, which finally determines the course of our lives is, What do I really want? Was it to love what God commands…and to desire what He promises? Did I want what I wanted, or did I want what He wanted, no matter what it might cost?” (Passion and Purity, 41)

Elisabeth Elliot decided, again and again, that she wanted what God wanted, no matter what the cost. Her life is a deep witness to God’s ability to work in a woman completely surrendered to Him.

I am so thankful for her life, and for that brief moment in England when I heard her voice with my own ears. I look forward to seeing her again.

Building Blocks

Building Blocks...www.annswindell.com

My newest piece is up at Deeply Rooted Magazine–You can read the start of the article here and read the rest of it over at Deeply Rooted!

My daughter turned two last month. She’s a pensive fireball; just like me, just like her daddy. She takes everything in through her Wedgewood blue eyes—contemplating, assessing, wondering. She’s learning how to be a part of the larger world, how to interact with others meaningfully, how to give and take and share and play.

We were out of town last week, visiting family downstate. I took Ella to their local library for an afternoon. It has an amazing children’s reading and play area, and she was thrilled to get to climb and play with their puzzles and building blocks. The longer she played, the more children showed up, and I got to watch her interact with kids two and three years older than she. There was a sweet five-year-old girl who took Ella under her wing, showing her how to move chairs and draw masterpieces. There was a four-year-old boy who ran circles around Ella, jumping and yelling as she stood and watched.

Read the rest of the article here!

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! 

 

When Life is Too Hard and Too Much

The last seven days have been, I think, perhaps seven of the hardest consecutive days in my life. I imagine there will be harder days ahead, and I trust that there will be grace and energy for those days. But I cannot think about those days now. I think about women who walk through much worse than I have and much less than I have, and I have learned that comparison is a trap and a lie. We all walk with our own pain, and no one knows the depth of that pain except for Christ himself.

When life is too hard, Jesus will meet you there. More at www.annswindell.com

The short of our long week is that we were all very sick, and my husband was so sick that I honestly thought, at one point, that I might be losing him.

It has been hard. It has felt too hard. It would have been a hard week if sickness was the only thing we were walking through, but it has also been hard because this upheaval has come in the middle of everything else changing–the last week of my beloved job, our send-off at church, multiple house showings, and interviewing for new jobs in a new city. I have so many emotions bubbling and so many thoughts swirling just because we are moving away from home. But with the reality of life and death on the table, things have felt, just, too much.

And I have prayed and wept and stared at the darkness in the night. It has been too much. I am coming to find that all of life is too much for me. The weight of raising children in this difficult world? Too much. The stress of doing any job with meaning and purpose? Too much. The work of keeping a marriage vibrant and beautiful in trying seasons? Too much.

All of it. Too much.

I cannot carry any of it. At the end of the day–even at the beginning of it–I am weak. I am unable to do anything truly good on my own.

But my hope for this past week–my hope for any week, really–has been this:

For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die—but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us. [Romans 5:6-8]

I never have to be strong for Christ to love me, to save me, to heal me and help me. The Truth whispers to my heart that God’s power is actually, surprisingly, drawn to weakness. He loves working through weakness. He loves being with me and meeting me in those places where I feel broken and unable to move forward. He is with me. He is enough.

I never have to be strong for Christ to love me, to save me, to heal me and help me. Share on X

He loves doing the same for you. If you feel tired and worn down and like life is too hard and too much, his love and presence is enough for you. He is with you. You are not alone. 

I have found such peace in Jesus in these hard days. Not because he is giving me answers or perfect circumstances, but because he is giving me more of himself. More of his presence. More of his hope. And I am experiencing, again, that He is enough. He makes what feels too hard a load that I can carry, because he shoulders it with me. He makes what feels like too much a lighter weight, because he carries it for me. 

He makes what feels too hard a load that I can carry, because he shoulders it with me. Share on X

I threw up my hands this week, in worship and in sorrow. Both are gifts to Jesus, because he knows the cost of my pain.

And he knows the cost of your pain; he knows what is too hard and too much for you. It doesn’t matter if what you’re going through is easier for others. He understands. It is hard. It is too much.

And yet, Jesus is greater. He is kinder. And He is enough.  Throw your hands up in your suffering and in your worship, and let Jesus meet you in that place with his Word and his presence and his love.

He is with you. You are not alone. He who has already died for us in our weakness–He is the same one who will also give us what we need to walk through another day, another week, another year. He will give us more of himself. And that is enough.

May you know his presence and his peace this week. May you know his love.

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.

 

Kids Aren’t the Priority. Marriage Is.

My newest piece is up at RELEVANT Magazine–a piece about how to cultivate a healthy marriage after kids come along. It’s something I’m passionate about, both personally and culturally, and I’ve written about it for Today’s Christian Woman, as well. Read the start of the article below:

Keeping Your Marriage Healthy after having kids....so important!

 

I was concerned that becoming parents might weaken our marriage. I wasn’t afraid that it would ruin our marriage. Michael and I had made promises to God and each other to stay the course, come hell or high water. We also had—and still have—a deep friendship and camaraderie in our relationship. But I was, admittedly, nervous that having a child might throw some of that off-kilter—that, perhaps, adding another human being in the mix might strain our connection and closeness.

And you know what?

It did.

Our daughter was born on our seventh anniversary, and her birthday has become symbolic to me: Those things that were solely about me and my husband—the things that used to be just about us—those things have shifted. Even our marriage—our very anniversary—is shared, now.

And that’s a good thing.

Because although it feels like it might rub me raw some days, getting to be a parent is a gift. God’s word unabashedly declares that children are a blessing from him (Psalm 127:3-5), that each child is intentionally created by God (Psalm 139), and that children show us a picture of what it means to be great in the Kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 18:1-3). I believe in the Bible. And I also believe my experience—my daughter is one of the greatest gifts I have ever received.

But being a parent is also a gift because it can strengthen our marriages, if we are intentional about growing as parents and spouses. Growing as parents without growing as spouses is putting the proverbial cart before the horse, and both the marriage and the parenting will suffer. But the opportunity to grow as friends and lovers—as husband and wife—as we are parenting? This is a truly good gift.

Growing as parents without growing as spouses is putting the proverbial cart before the horse. Share on X

Here’s how to be purposeful about growing as spouses even as we parent those small humans who are making lots of noise in the house:

Make Time Just for the Two of You

Yes, it’s going to be a lot harder to get one-on-one, meaningful time together now that you’re parents. But do it anyway; your marriage is worth it.

When Michael and I were dating, engaged and then married before becoming parents, we had so much time to be together. Time to explore the arboretum. Time to talk over long meals. Time to see movies and sleep in. Now, as parents (and remember, we only have one right now; God bless all parents of multiple children. Amen.), a lot of our time is spent doing parent-y things: feeding our child, playing with our child, reading to our child, bathing, cleaning and clothing our child. Her schedule shapes a great deal of what we can and can’t do.

So we have a weekly date night. Sometimes we get a sitter and go out. Sometimes we talk and eat ice cream and watch a movie at home after she goes to bed (Alleluia for the 7:30 p.m. bed time). But we are consistent about making time to meaningfully connect so that we can operate as friends and lovers … and not solely as parenting partners.

Make time to connect as spouses so you don't operate solely as parenting partners. Share on X

Serve Your Spouse, Not Just Your Kids

Before children, it’s just easier to care for our spouse—to stop at the store and pick up a favorite cereal when we’re running low, or to refill the gas tank in the car before it drops to E. But when the days fill up with attending to the basic needs of children, we can get worn out with serving anyone but ourselves.

The gift in this, though, is that parenting reminds us in fresh ways that it’s not all about me. Caring for one or two or 10 little humans forces us to put the needs of another before our own—often to a degree that we’ve never had to experience before. Waking up 10 times in one night? Sure. Making meals and washing clothes for kids who don’t have the fine motor skills to do it for themselves? Of course.

But if we’re so exhausted by serving our kids that we can’t—or won’t—serve our spouse, we’re headed down the wrong path. We may not be able to fill up the gas tank on a whim or pick up roses on the way home, but we can still serve our spouse in simple, thoughtful ways through the week. A note left on a dashboard, the offer to take the kids while she gets a night out, or the willingness to clean the dishes—these little acts of service help keep marriages healthy in the midst of exhausting days and years.

Read the rest of the article here, at RELEVANT!

Related post: Connecting After Kids

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