At His Word

So if you’ve ever been around toddlers, you know they’re basically drunk little humans with no frontal lobes, wielding their power like the little dictators they are. At the Eight Year Old’s basketball game on Saturday, eyes of the crowd were diverted from the game in a display of mental strength and fortitude as the Two Year Old slyly looked behind him, mischievous grin in place, inching his toes toward the boundary line of the basketball court, daring me to make a scene.

“One…” in a low growl, masked behind the smile of my clenched teeth.

Bigger grin.

“Two…” There may have been slight hysteria breaking through the growl.

Toes are mere millimeters away.

“Thr…”

He runs back to me, laughing hysterically, fully aware of the power he holds, but jumps into my arms despite the tone of my voice just seconds ago. All have returned to their desired places; knowing parents giggle with understanding nods, with their attention slowly returning back to the game. Ah, the life with toddlers, y’all. Never a dull moment.

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In today’s readings, Hebrews 1 starts off reminding us how God has spoken to us in the past (through the prophets), and how that responsibility has now shifted to the Son, “whom he made heir of all things and through whom he created the universe (v2).” Y’all, we now have front row access to God’s Word, through the saving power of our Savior, God’s Son, “who is the very imprint of His being (v3).” This is indeed, very good news!

We head to the Gospel reading, which for today is Mark 1:14-20. John the Baptist has been arrested, and Jesus’ ministry is officially starting in Galilee. Jesus passes by the Sea of Galilee, where Simon and Andrew are casting their nets.

He says to them, “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Then they abandoned their nets and followed him.

Mark 1:17-18

And then, in the very next verses:

He walked along a little farther and saw James, the son of Zebedee, and his brother John. They too were in a boat mending their nets. Then he called them. So they left their father Zebedee in the boat along with the hired men and followed him.

Mark 1:19-20

Can you imagine if these first disciples reacted like my sweet and spicy Two Year Old? I can just hear Jesus, “I’m going to give you until the count of three. One… Two... Thr…!” While the image in my head makes me giggle, their response is a beautiful example of how we should respond to Jesus’ call. He said Come, and they immediately obeyed at His Word.

Come after me…Then they abandoned their nets.

He called them. So they left their father.

There was no hemming and hawing. There was no inching their toes toward disobedience.

But isn’t that just it, friends? We have full access to the One True God’s voice—through His Word, through prayer, through the Holy Spirit—yet when we hear his voice, how often do we balk in hesitation? Disobedience is disbelief, y’all. Disbelief in His grace, in His power, in His mercy, and in His unending provisions beyond what we could ever imagine.

So today I call you, just the once, to seek His voice, hear it, and react upon hearing: without the count to three, without the warning signs, but in the one Word He speaks, I implore you to listen the first time.

Come…

For me? We’ve talked about it enough that your ears may start to bleed: it’s the call to write, to share, to embark on a creative journey I’ve no clue as to where it takes me. But the call to write is a beating of a drum, in my heart and in my soul, and I know the call matches closely with His Word: the one beckoning me to sit at peace in His desire for my life. So I sit here and type, His Voice echoing in my mind, sharing the love He desires all of us to experience. Just His Word.

At His one Word we are obedient to his call, basking in His Glory, living in His peace. At His Word, strife and pain cease, not forgotten or erased by the things of this world, but transformed into healing and calm due to the saving grace of His love.

So I challenge you today: What are you hearing, deep in the caverns of your heart? What puts a fire in your belly reminding you of the true desire God has placed within you? What has God asked you to obedience today? Are you willing to say “Yes” without the need of a countdown?

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I’m joining hope*writers for 12 days of prompts to kick start my writing in 2019! Follow #HopeWriterLife over on Instagram for more beautiful writers of all types. Join us!

When You're Stuck

The starts and stops are getting a little ridiculous at this point. The amount of rough drafts sitting in my squarespace back office is getting out of hand, and for some reason my heart says I should write while my head says too many things to do, not enough time, this isn’t a priority, this isn’t important.

I’m stuck, y’all. And I can’t figure out how to move out of it. So here I am, with you, sharing my heart. Because that’s what I’ve been told to do.

I don’t know about y’all, but I’ve been sitting in a waiting period, and for the better part of the past three and a half years, I’ve felt like I might be missing something. God has been so faithful in so many areas of my life, but there is a prayer I’ve been praying for so many years I can’t count anymore, and it simply just hasn’t been answered. And I’m ok with that most of the time, but there are days, like today, when I just want to whine and kick and scream, and shout “GOD! I HAVE DONE ALL THE THINGS! DON’T I DESERVE THIS ANSWER? DON’T I DESERVE TO HAVE THE ONE THING I DESIRE MOST??”

And the thing about it is, there is nothing I could do to have this prayer answered. I can’t strive more, or yearn more, I can’t talk my way through it. I just have to pray. And I can honestly say I think this is why my relationship with Jesus is stronger that it ever has been: because He gave me a desire in my heart that I can’t attain on my own two feet. He gave me a desire that is purely dependent on Him, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

Even when there are no answers.

Even when there is pain.

Even when the healing hasn’t even begun.

Jesus is still there.

Because loving Jesus doesn’t mean we get everything we want. Loving Jesus is about relationship.

“...and whenever you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear this command behind you: ‘This is the way. Walk in it.’ Isaiah 30:21

Isaiah shows us the beauty of this relationship with God. How do we train our ears to hear where He wants us to go? We read the Bible. We talk to God. We serve others as if we were serving Jesus. Not out of striving to do good works, but to serve him as a form of worship. We boast in what God has done for us, to others yes, but to ourselves, too. Remembering God’s love and blessings, and thanking Him for them, is a sure fire way to recognize the current blessings in our lives. And finally? We depend less on ourselves and the world’s opinion of us, and lean more closely to the One who demonstrates a perfect love in showing us our true identity: a child of God, chosen by Him. All He asks is that we choose to say yes, and to follow His ways. Serve Him in worship, boast in his love, kindness and blessings, and look not to the flesh but of His character.

It doesn’t necessarily take the pain away, but knowing this full well helps to dry my tears a bit. When I’m sitting here on this cozy rainy day, thinking about the challenge of waiting, and maybe not getting the answers I want or think I need, what a comfort it is to know that my only job in this situation is to turn to Him: To seek Him, and to sit at His feet. To listen more than I request my desired outcome, and to glorify Him more than I glorify my self-propelled strategies. This is what produces relationship, and in turn, provides us the grace, peace, and hope we find in the waiting.

Heavenly Father, it is so hard to wait. It is such a challenge to let go of control, and it is so hard to not get the answers we feel we need, especially when we think we know what is best. But you, Lord, the perfecter of my faith, knows what is best for me. Thank you for always knowing what’s best, and forgiving me when I think I know better. Thank you for Your new covenant in Jesus, who came here to show us how to live: abiding deeply in your love, praising your name, and when hardships come, to cling desperately to your grace and hope. Lord, I know waiting on little and big things of this life is a part of our relationship with you, and these seasons are meant to bring us closer to you. Help us to turn to you so we can know you more, and be better able to hear your voice when you direct us on the path to take. We love you so much. Amen.

Be encouraged friends. In the waiting, lean on your Savior. He may not give you what you want, but he will offer peace and hope in the waiting that can’t be imitated. He loves you so much.

Love, Kristin

It May Have Been a Temper Tantrum

This is where I put the teeth-bared, wide-eyed emoji that impossibly, yet simply says, "Yes. An adult temper tantrum. Whoops." 

This is also the emoji used in certain cases such as: 

• I just overreacted to my children being children
• I accidentally put salt instead of sugar in my coffee
• I just found a mysterious pile of poop on the kitchen floor (full disclosure: we're in the midst of potty-training the two year old. Poop is on the brain)
• I totally called her by the wrong name at the grocery store

You get the point. And I know you know exactly the sentiment I'm expressing here.

After hearing some not so great news last night, it had all come to a head. I fell the other day, so I'm recovering from an unexpected back and elbow injury. My mom broke her wrist and now has to have surgery next week. We have family coming in town this weekend, and I can't get ahead of the laundry/dusting/vacuuming/POOP situation. I've promised a girl's day with my sweetest girl, and all I want is to curl up with a book or a computer or my Bible and NOT. MOVE. So I may have had a temper tantrum last night. I cried and expressed my frustration while the husband lovingly patted my back and let me do just that. Sitting on my back porch this morning, as the gray dawn crept over our tree-filled yard, I was reminded of the newness each day brings. In the darkness of night amidst the weariness of a long, emotion-filled day, these new mercies we're given on a daily and even moment-to-moment basis are hard to grasp. But as the light slowly comes but then shines all at once, we're given a new perspective, a chance to begin again.

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. Lamentations 3:22-23 NIV

Which brings me to my point: have a tantrum. Lean on a trusted husband or friend or cousin. Whomever it is, however you must lean, whether in person or on face time. Do it. Express your fears, and your frustrations. But the next morning recognize the day for what it is: a chance to re-evaluate, make a plan, and push forward. Say 'yes,' to the people in front of you, regardless of their size, and do the next right thing reflecting obedience to God in that moment. His love for us never ends. He is merciful at all times, forgives us as we repent of our tantrum-y ways. The darkness of night feels all-consuming, but the newness of morning refreshes us, replenishing our soul, and gives us hope in the Lord to carry out our day.

Just Start.

I bought the domain a month ago, and it's been sitting here in the secret interwebs, waiting for me to press go. There's something about taking the password away from the site, clicking 'publish,' despite the fact that no one knows it exists. It makes it official, that my dream is actually much more than that: something that's lived down deep, even before I was a twinkle in my parents' eyes. When God wrote the book of life, He knew my calling. Since the moment my lungs breathed the air of this world, God knew the passions of my heart would lead me here, writing my thoughts, my desires, my convictions, all which are out there for the world to see, if only I had the courage.

When I was a baby Christian (reality: actually an adult, just the earlier years of my intentional Christian walk), I attended my first women's conference with a gaggle of my closest friends. Jill Briscoe spent the weekend speaking of Paul's letter to the Philippians. While I honestly can't remember the content of her talks regarding his words surrounding the joy of a Christian life, her words regarding courage and mission remain crystal clear: we don't have to be brave on our own, and, oftentimes, courage is on the other side of the thing that seems impossible. Jesus boldly takes our hands, leads us through, and only once we're on the opposite side of the deep canyon of doubt can we see that our call isn't to courage, it's to obedience.

So here I am. Writing a thing because I know that this is what stirs my heart: my call to encourage, bring joy, and pursue others' hearts has always led me back to this place. I have sat in the wings for awhile, intermittently flexing my writing muscles in a discrete manner as to not ripple the waters too much, that I won't be noticed. That's not our call, friends. God doesn't gift us with passions of the heart to merely sit on the sidelines or barely dip our toes in the water. He calls us to boldly proclaim His Gospel and saving grace through the unique gifts he has blessed us with.

I don't promise to be perfect as I navigate this new bold expression in my life, but I do promise to encourage, to be truthful, and to do my best to point you to the love of Jesus. He's changed my life in ways I could have never imagined, and I can't wait to see how He works in your life, too. Be encouraged, friends. He loves us so very much.