Trusting God In The Dark

I was in a fabric store shopping for material for a special quilt. I found a print I especially liked, but when it was rolled out on the cutting counter, the clerk said there were tiny holes in it. I squinted my eyes and stared but the print camouflaged the holes. (At least that seemed like a good excuse to me. The truth is that once one passes the age of 50-something and wears bi-focals, detecting tiny flaws in fabric is best left to those with younger eyes. But I digress.)

The clerk--who was at least 30 years younger than me!--unfolded the material and held it up to the light. From that vantage point, I was able to see pinholes of light shining through, showing every flaw. Had she not shown the light on that material, I might not have noticed those holes and may well have used the fabric to make the quilt, unaware of the imperfections.

Last week I read a devotional that challenged me to ask God to reveal areas in my life that I haven't fully entrusted to Him. At first I thought, "No way. I trust God completely with every detail of my life." But did I really? So I took the challenge. I asked God to show me where I needed to trust Him more. His faithful demonstration of loving instruction was eye-opening, to say the least.

I found a verse in the fourth chapter of First Corinthians that described what I was asking God to do. "Therefore judge nothing before time, until the Lord comes, who will both bring to light the hidden things of darkness and reveal the counsels (motives) of the heart." 1st Cor 4:5 I was asking God to unfold my life and hold it up to His light, thereby showing me the holes--my weaknesses, my failings, my shortcomings, and my vulnerability.

It's easy to trust God when everything is going my way. There's no pressure, no risk. But when the darkness of adversity closes in, those untended weaknesses that I've ignored can threaten to cripple me. The truth of God--His light--enables me to see how He fills those holes with His strength for my weakness, His forgiveness for my shortcomings, His glory for my failings, and His omnipotence for my vulnerability.

"For it is the God who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." 2nd Cor 4:6

Through this exercise, I discovered it's not hard at all to trust God in the dark, because when I yield my weakness to Him, He give me His strength and I become stronger through Him than I ever could be alone. His strength is made perfect in my weakness (2nd Cor 12:9).

When I saw the flaws in the fabric, I chose a different piece of fabric. When God shows us our flaws, He doesn't discard us. He fills the flaws with Himself and uses us for His glory.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.

He Knows Me By Name

Have you ever been confronted with a task or a mission of such enormity, all you could do was quake in your shoes and gasp, "What??" What if a situation fell into your lap that you had to deal with, and you had no clue what to do?

Moses had a close relationship with God. Exodus 33:11 states that the Lord spoke to Moses face to face, as a man speaks to his friend. If you read the preceding verses, God had quite a lot to tell Moses, and while the Lord asked a great deal of His servant, He also promised Moses He would send His angel before him to drive out their enemies. But Moses didn't know the way. God was asking him to lead the children of Israel into a land where they'd never been. What do you suppose Moses's answer was?

Moses didn't exactly beat around the bush. He told God,"See, You're telling me to bring these people up to the promised land, but You haven't told me who You're sending with me. You've said You know me by name and I've found grace in Your sight. So, now I'm asking this of You: If I have found grace in Your sight, show me Your way that I might know You." Bold? Perhaps, but also very wise. The smartest thing Moses did was ask God to show him the way, because Moses wanted to know God better. Then Moses added, "If Your Presence does not go with us, do not bring us up from here."

21st century translation? God, if You aren't going, I don't want to go either.

God promised His Presence because He knew Moses by name (Ex 33:17). I find that exceedingly comforting. When God asks something staggering of me, He doesn't expect me to do it alone. He promises His presence because He knows me by name. It doesn't matter if I don't have a clue about where to go or how to perform the task, or even the purpose of the mission. God is going with me, so it's safe for me to go. He knows me by name, He knows who I am, He knows my weaknesses. Therefore, He will equip me with whatever I need for the journey.

When our son was diagnosed with cancer and I became his caregiver, I didn't know anything about cancer treatment. Besides being stricken in my heart with fear for my son, I was bewildered by the arduous aspects of the cancer journey. Dealing with treatment options, drugs, insurance, prescriptions, special diets, side effects, sorting out the different doctors, conflicting information...it was enough to render me breathless. But God knew my name, and He promised to accompany us on this journey.


When God knows your name, you can rest in the promise of His Presence.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.

Making Praise My Legacy

For the past week or two, I’ve asked God by what earmark should my life be known in 2010. What is the one thing He wants me to do so that He might fill me and use me? The recurring one-word answer I kept hearing in my heart was PRAISE. If praise is to be the theme of my life in the coming months, I need to grasp an understanding of why I need to praise Him.

We are His workmanship, and He created us to praise Him, but that isn’t the only reason my life should revolve around praise in 2010. If I praise Him only out of obedience, I'm missing half the point. God is still God whether I praise Him or not, so His existence doesn’t depend on my praise.

God doesn't need our praise, but He knows we need to praise Him. Does that sound like a contradiction? Perhaps, so let me explain. Praise is for our benefit, not His. Humanly speaking, when we praise another person, we lift them up, encourage them, validate them, reassure them, make them happy, give them reason to keep on. But that’s not why we praise God. Of course, we praise Him because we love Him, but the purpose goes beyond that. The safest and most joyful place we can be as Christians is in His presence, and Psalm 22:3 states that God inhabits the praise of His people.

Being a writer, I like to pick words apart, to analyze their meaning. That word, inhabit means to dwell, to occupy, to take up residence. It doesn’t mean to drop by for a visit, it’s not a fleeting glimpse, it’s not temporary. In biblical times, to inhabit a place meant to drive your tent stakes in deep, dig a well, and raise up the next generation in that place. So if God inhabits my praise, He intends to stay. The more I praise Him, the closer He is. It’s like throwing the door open in excitement. My praise welcomes His presence.

When I find myself walking through circumstances that are disappointing or frightening, the power of praise is my most potent weapon. I’ve learned I cannot battle fear or discouragement in my own strength. I am humanly fallible, and I have not the strength or the faith to battle through life’s strangleholds on my own. The only way to defeat these oppressions is through praise, because God inhabits, He indwells, He occupies, He takes up residence within my praise. Praise is an invitation asking God to join me where I am. And where God is, oppression has to flee.

I noticed another thing about praise. God’s word instructs us to praise Him now. Psalm 146:1-2 is not only an admonition, it is a joyous shout. “Praise the Lord, O my soul! While I live I will praise the Lord, I will sing praises to my God while I have my being.” If we wait until we get to heaven to praise Him, we will miss an extraordinary blessing. In 2010, I want to fill my life with praise to God while I still walk on this earth.

My son had the opportunity to speak and give his testimony at a church about six weeks before God took him Home. He used Psalm 66 as his text and proclaimed, “Come and see the works of God. He is awesome in His doings…Come and hear…and I will declare what He has done for my soul.” Sweet praise fell from his lips, praise for the Savior he loved. His testimony is still remembered by many who heard him that night. His legacy was praise.

Throughout 2010, I’m certain God will show me new and exciting things about praise, and the anticipation of the journey fills me with a desire to know Jesus better in 2010 than I did in 2009. My prayer is that I, too, will leave a legacy of praise.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.

**In loving memory of Sgt. Jonathan Stevens USMC 6-22-77 ~ 1-10-06**

Roses In December

When God created roses, He did so with both beautiful blossoms and thorns. The past several days have been very thorny ones for me. In spite of the joy of the Christmas season, a heaviness weighs in my heart. Yes, I rejoice in praising God for the matchless gift of His Son. I love hearing the Christmas carols sung by the choir and over the PA system in the stores. Christmas movies on TV are fun to watch again and again. Wrapping gifts and praying for the recipient is a joy. Baking cookies fills the house with festive aromas.

But memories lurk in the midst of all the holiday cheer. Everyone has memories of Christmases past, but there is one I wish I could forget. The memories are so painful, I believe my heart bleeds every time the pictures manifest themselves in my mind. The ache is so real I can well imagine it showing up on an x-ray. Knowing the countdown to these horrible memories is drawing near makes enjoying the holidays a challenge.

Seeking solace from the pain, I took myself away for a day to a place of sanctuary—a place where I could hear God’s whisper. But God did more than whisper, He sang.

There is a quote I remember hearing one time. Some attribute it to Sir James Barrie, a British playwright, and others to Italo Sveno, an Italian novelist. Whoever said it first isn’t important. The words slipped through my mind like a song that echoes and repeats.

“God gave us memories so that we might have roses in December.”


At first I didn’t understand the correlation. Whatever blossoms dare to remain on the bushes in December are ugly. The roses in my backyard have all wilted from the freezing temperatures. There is nothing pretty about a rose whose petals are browned and crumpling. They are almost as ugly as the memories I’m trying to blot out. I told God I didn’t want the memories that so haunted me from that December four years earlier any more than I’d want to pluck a bouquet from my frozen rosebush.

Tenderly, as though He were singing a lullaby, He reminded me of the beauty. The roses of summer rival every other flower in the garden with their delicate radiance. The memory of those roses resembles the treasury of promises He’s kept and prayers He’s answered in His way--miraculous ways. Sometimes our greatest blessings, the most complete healing, can happen because of prayers that weren’t answered the way we wanted. Glory began seeping into my soul and I stood in awe of His goodness. How could I have forgotten? How could I have allowed the harshness of the climb to eradicate the exquisite sweetness of the view?

Then He showed me one more promise. A tiny, unopened rosebud…in December. He isn’t finished yet. There is more to come; more beauty to anticipate; more glory to grasp. Roses in December.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.

Let Every Heart Prepare Him Room

At this time of year, our "To Do" list can be longer than some of the lines we find ourselves standing in. So many things to do, gifts to buy and wrap, boxes to ship, decorations to hang, events to attend, special dishes to make, menus to plan, and envelopes to address, our fear (and many times our focus) is trying not to forget anyone or anything. At night we collapse in our bed, exhausted, only to lie awake thinking of all we still need to do.

If this is an accurate description of you, don't feel guilty. Our fast-paced, 21st century lives have done this to us. We've simply been sucked up into the rush by virtue of the fact that have families and friends, and we're involved in church. Those are all good things. But if we aren't careful, they can be the very things to exhaust us in the midst of a time when we should be quietly examining our hearts, clearing out the clutter to ensure Jesus has center stage.

I'm certainly not advocating foregoing family celebrations or church events. No, we need that corporate worship time together, bonding as one in grateful praise for the Baby who came to die for us. Taking time to focus on the coming of Jesus in our family celebrations can teach our children to understand that Jesus is more important than Santa Claus. I am reminded of the Christmas story we read every year. The words are so familiar, we sometimes blur over them without stopping to study their full meaning or consider the depth of the circumstances.

Take, for instance, the innkeeper in the 2nd chapter of Luke. Nothing is actually said about him. We assume he was a gruff sort who waved Mary and Joseph away, growling that there was "No room in the inn". I've often wondered if that man ever knew Who he turned away. He had no way of knowing Mary carried the very Savior who could save him from his sins. Did he ever find out later? Did he regret not making room for them? Could he have given up his own bed?

Now, put on the garb of the innkeeper. The city is all a-bustle with people coming for the census. Crowds are pressing, tired children are cranky, people are weary and their feet hurt from standing in line, they're hungry and trying to find a place to eat, and they all have an agenda. Sound familiar? And here you are, the innkeeper. Your stress level is at the breaking point, you're exhausted from serving these demanding people, and late at night you hear another knock on your door. You heave a sigh. No, go away, there's no more room.

Fast forward to the 21st century. You have more shopping to do, if you don't get this box shipped today you're going to have to pay through the nose to get it delivered on time, your Sunday School classes is having a party and you have to bring two dishes, your in-laws are coming for dinner and you still haven't cleaned the house, you have to run to a different store because your regular store was out of an ingredient that you must have, one of the strings of lights on the tree has quit working, you just found out you're supposed to bring an exchange gift to that Sunday School party, the Toys For Tots commercial on TV pinches you with guilt, the Salvation Army guy ringing the bell looks at you expectantly and you don't have any cash, you just remembered you forgot to get a gift for a certain person who will be offended if you don't give them anything...and there's a knock at the door. Not the front door of your home, the door of your heart.

Joy to the world, the LORD has come, let earth (us) receive her KING.
LET EVERY HEART PREPARE HIM ROOM...

Will you clear a space? Will you find room? Will you give up your own place? Is Jesus more important than Santa Claus, menus, shopping, or agendas? Maybe the innkeeper didn't know Who he was turning away, but we do.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.

God's Dashboard Light

I just returned home from our trusty mechanic, Mr. Ken, to find out why Jarhead's (that's my car's name) "check engine" light keeps coming on. At first Mr. Ken thought it was just a loose gas cap, but now it turns out that it's something in the emissions system that is going to cost $500. Oh, goody... I can think of lots of ways to spend $500 that would be a lot more fun or practical.

The good news is that Mr. Ken assured me that I don't need to do this immediately. It won't cause the car to quit or leave me stranded on the side of the road. He told me I could wait until after the holidays to have this work done and it wouldn't hurt anything. It's just that annoying light on the dash--my gaze keeps glancing down to look at it, as if staring at it will make it go away. Then I thought of a way to fix it for a whole lot less than $500.

I gathered a few tools: a screwdriver, snips, tape measure, electrical tape. I've never been mechanically inclined, but I was fairly certain I could perform this task. Sucking in a deep breath and with confidence building, I gathered my tools and marched to the garage. I could do this.

First, I extracted the tape measure and ran it across the space on the dashboard to calculate the measurement. Then, with the screwdriver, I poked a hole in the cellophane packaging around the electrical tape and pulled it off. So far, so good. Carefully transferring the measurement I'd taken earlier to the electrical tape, I snipped off a precise piece of black tape. I took another deep breath to steady my nerves--I'd never attempted this before... Finally, I lined up the tape and placed it strategically on the dash, covering the "check engine" light. Problem solved. I felt like a mechanical genius.

There have been many times in my life that I knew God was trying to tell me something. Sometimes I listened, but other times I ignored Him or offered a flimsy excuse for not heeding His counsel. Brushing aside God's nudging is like covering the "check engine" light with electrical tape. I can't see it, but it's still there. Hiding it won't make it go away, just like ignoring God's direction won't render it non-existent.

Instead of disregarding the touch of God's finger on my heart, I can see it as a comfort that God won't leave me alone. If I peel back that black electrical tape, that silly dash light is still there and it will continue to remind me that I need to address this problem. God's Holy Spirit stays with me, whispering to my soul until I follow His leading. I may think I've effectly blocked out His voice, but His love can never be silenced. I know this because He continually sends me little mercydrops to demonstrate His everlasting presence in my life.

At some point, I will have to decide to have Jarhead's problem fixed. I know this. When God speaks, I have a choice. I can say "Yes, Lord, I'm listening" and then obey what He is telling me to do. Or, I can say, "Not now, I'm too busy, ask someone else to do that." It's my choice. Following God in obedience always results in a blessing. Making a poor choice, like ignoring God's nudging, might not leave me stranded on the side of the road, but it does mean loss of fellowship with Him--something that grieves me as much as it does God. Knowing He is always as close as my breath and my very heartbeat is a comfort beyond description.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.

Snuggle Time With God

My cat is mis-named Sweet Pea. In hindsight, I should have waited to name her until I learned her personality. Had I done so, I might have named her Tasmanian Devil. Oh well, she does have a sweet side when she feels like showing it. One of her "sweet" habits is jumping up on my desk and putting her paws on my shoulder, meowing and begging to be held and petted. She demands her snuggle time, but it's usually while I'm trying to write. For some reason, she thinks my writing chair is the only place snuggling should take place. She meows until I pick her up and lean back in the chair, at which point she lays on my chest and kneads her paws into my neck. It's really hard to type in this position. She even takes her paw and gently bats my face if I try to look at the computer screen instead of her. She wants ALL my attention.

Isn't this what we do with God sometimes? When circumstances aren't what we hoped, or adversity surrounds us, we cry out to God and demand His attention to our problem. And this is a good thing--God wants us to bring our burdens to Him. But what about the other times? What about trudging through every day dealing with the mundane or routine? What about those busy days when we have more to accomplish than time allows? How about those unexpected distractions that jerk the rug out from under us and we feel we have to scramble to address them?

This morning as I was trying to work through some revisions on my latest chapter, Sweet Pea kept insisting on some one-on-one time and wouldn't take no for an answer. She wasn't in distress or pain. She didn't have an earth-shattering problem for me to solve. She simply wanted to be with me, face to face. She wanted to know that I saw her, I loved her, and she wanted to snuggle. And I realized something this silly cat was teaching me, however unknowingly. God wants the same thing from me. He wants me to stop what I'm doing and just spend time loving Him. I need the same kind of "snuggle time" with God as Sweet Pea was seeking with me. He doesn't want me to be distracted with other things. He wants ALL my attention, my love, my adoration, my praise, my worship.

I realized something else. It's somehow easier to brush God aside than it is to brush the cat aside. The cat is insistent. God is patient. The cat meows in my face. God whispers to my heart. How sad it must make Him when I allow the things of this world to take center stage and I neglect to spend snuggle time with Him.

I think I'll log off Facebook and email, and set aside this chapter I'm working on for a while, and just climb up in God's lap and love Him.

Thanks for letting me share my heart.