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faith
Scared and Unafraid: Video Presentation!
 
Back on December 3rd I had the opportunity to lead a presentation on fear. I promise something in here will make you think a bit differently about fear. I hope you take the time to watch.
Click the image below to play. This link should start at 9:40 which is right before the start of the actual presentation (If not, fast forward or enjoy a snack while you wait for the start!):
How to Handle a Hatchet (AKA, How to be Scared and Unafraid)
If you stumbled across this blog while looking for information on how to handle a hatchet, I recommend this YouTube video I discovered the other day. That video might get you closer to what you’re actually looking for. But while you’re here, you might be curious what kind of rambling connection I’m going to make on the topic. If so, then come along. I’m curious too.
You might wonder why I have a YouTube video on hatchet handling at my fingertips.
Fingertips is the key word in that sentence.
You see, a couple weeks ago I learned a friend had her hand run over by a car (something about setting blocks under the wheel when the emergency brake let loose). Shortly after that, I learned a coworker nearly lost her pinky finger to a sledgehammer (something about clearing out some old patio pavers).
It was against this backdrop that I began to second guess my desire to buy a hatchet.
To hatchet or not to hatchet
My desire to buy a hatchet originated from the wish to split campfire wood with something more travel-able than the 3lb 30” behemoth in the garage. This desire was expedited by an approaching (solo) camping excursion. Previously I had only flung an ax when another person was around. I thought perhaps a hatchet would be more manageable. (Which, according to many self-proclaimed experts on google – and what’s not to trust about a self-proclaimed expert on google – is actually a false assumption. Despite the alluring size of the hatchet, the longer handle of an axe makes it a modicum safer than a hatchet.)
I ran to the local hardware store on my lunchbreak. I watched videos on how to handle a hatchet. And I looked up how many times the word hatchet appears in the Bible. (Only once. Can you find it?)
From my recently acclaimed favorite-for-now book of the Bible, I read: If the ax is dull and its edge unsharpened, more strength is needed, but skill will bring success. Ecclesiastes 10:10.
Based on this, I felt it was prudent to watch some more YouTube videos.
Hatchet in action
In the end I shoved the scary thoughts aside and took my newly acquired hatchet on my outdoor adventure. It pounded tent stakes much easier than shoving them in with my boot, and for that alone I deemed it a success. Then I tackled the wood.
The hatchet’s small size barely bit the first log I attempted. After a dozen cuts, I pulled the hatchet out in defeat. I wasn’t brave enough to swing any harder. “Skill will bring success,” I thought, as I hunted for a smaller piece.
I was scared to do something foolish, but I also knew I wasn’t being unreasonable. I set up my new attempt and heard the tell-tale crack as the hatchet came down. Slowly but surely, I splintered that wood into kindling fine enough to start with a ferro rod. (I also used a cotton ball and strips of cardboard, but it was my first full-fledged ferro-rod fire so I give myself some leniency.)
Scared and unafraid
Here’s what I learned from this experience.
It’s okay to be scared. Jesus never said to not be scared.
He said: Do not be afraid. Do not fear.
He never said: Do not be scared.
You might think this is splitting hairs – isn’t being scared and being afraid the same thing?
I don’t think so.
I think this is on the order of “be angry and sin not.” There is the emotion, and then there is what we do with the emotion.
I’m not trying to argue a new doctrine here, but I think there is a point worth considering. The word scared means “thrown into or being in a state of fear, fright, or panic.” Think of that surge of adrenaline, the startled shock of when something unexpected scares you. There is a sharpness to being scared.
Scared is an adjective that describes how we feel when something has happened to us.
Fear is different. Fear is “an unpleasant often strong emotion caused by anticipation or awareness of danger and accompanied by increased autonomic activity.” Fear is focusing on future danger, instead of on the One who walks with us in the here and now. This means we choose fear by where we focus our attention. This anticipation and awareness then drives up autonomic activity (heart rate, breathing, upset stomach). The more we fear, the more we feel afraid.
Fear is first a verb, and then a noun. It is something we do. Then it is something we have.
If we do not ever let it go, then fear will fill us. And “filled with fear” is the definition of afraid.
Stick with me.
If scared is an adjective that describes how we feel when something has happened to us, then afraid is an adjective that describes how we feel when our own thoughts have happened to us.
There is a reason Jesus said, “Fear not.” Do not become afraid.
Lots of things can scare us, but there is only one thing we are ever afraid of. That one thing is our own thoughts.
Here is the connection
I was a little scared of the hatchet. I did not let those scaredy feelings grow into fear.
“Skill will bring success,” I said. I started small. I studied slowly. I splintered wood into a successful fire.
I was scared, and unafraid.
And that, my friends, is how you handle a hatchet.
This post was first written for inspireafire.com. I hope you enjoyed!
What Are You Wrestling For? (You may need to change it.)
I’ve been wrestling with the deep and the hard these last few years.
God knows it. I know it. The bell sounds and we go another round.
I think of Jacob wrestling all night long and I think, wow, what a relief that would be if this only lasted one night.
But I am persistent. (Okay, stubborn.) And I do not let go after one night, or one year, or one long, long time.
So God and I were going another round the other night when I was suddenly struck with the thought:
I will give you what you ask for. It will even be good (because God only gives good gifts). But you will miss out on what I intended to give you that is even better. It’s your choice.
I can’t guarantee the thought was from God, but I can tell you it jolted me at such a visceral level that I’m pretty sure it’s not one I conjured of my own volition. It certainly made me pause and consider what I was asking.
Could I really wear God down? Could I ask him so persistently for something outside his perfect will that he would actually give it to me?
The answer, I think, is yes.
Examples of Wrestling in the Bible
Think of Abraham arguing with God for the people of Sodom. He persistently wore God down all the way from 50 to 10. If God found just 10 righteous people in the city, He would not destroy it (Genesis 18). Or think of Jacob in Genesis 32, with his one-night wrestling match, who ultimately received his blessing (along with a physical limp which is a side note for another day).
Then there is the parable Jesus told in Luke 18 of the unjust judge. By persistence the widow was granted what she requested, even though the judge did not fear God or care about her. If that is the outcome of persistence with a judge who does not care, think how much more will be granted by a Judge who does care.
And lest we rest on these in the comfort of knowing that such prayers were answered because they already aligned with God’s perfect will, let me remind you of Romans 1, where God gave people over to a depraved mind to do what ought not to be done. Or remember Numbers 11, where the people grumbled and complained to God until he gave them the meat they asked for, which ultimately made them sick.
Be careful what you pray for, it has often been said. Because you just might get it.
Another Option
“This, then, is how you should pray,” Jesus told his disciples. “Our Father, who art in heaven… thy will be done.”
There are things I want in life. Sometimes very badly. I don’t understand why some people get them and others do not. But if I believe that God is good, that His plan for me is far grander and more fulfilling that any I could ascribe to myself, and if I believe that God can and will grant me far more than I could ever dare to ask or dream – if I believe all of that, then even more than wanting what I want, I want what He wants.
I don’t know what it means to deny oneself, pick up your cross, and follow Jesus, but I am afraid I may be in the process of finding out. The unexpected catch is that it really is a choice. God may give me what I ask for. I may wear Him down with my tears and pleading, and in so doing I may miss out on the even better plan.
I can go part way and stop. I can test the waters and turn back. I can choose to never begin.
Or I can go all the way through to the end.
Deep down I know what my answer is. I know what my answer always has been. But rather than feel the body lock release, I feel the wrestling hold simply shift. A change in perspective changes the wrestling match; it does not end it.
Sanctification is the fancy word for the process we go through our entire lives as we become more like Jesus. Put another way, sanctification is the process of aligning our will with God’s will. We are to be transformed, by the renewing of our minds, so that we can discern God’s good, perfect, and pleasing will.
Transformation sounds lovely. Discernment would be a blessed gift.
I think we get there by wrestling.
Just be careful what you’re wrestling for.
If God offered you what you’ve been asking for, but you would miss out on His better plan, would you take it? This post was first shared at inspireafire.com. I hope reading it makes you think as much as writing it did for me.
Making Sense of it All
“It doesn’t have to make sense, it has to make faith.”
I was in a small group discussion where one of the ladies was relaying a conversation she had with a pastor. As someone who likes to make sense of everything, I was struck by this point. Sometimes things would be easier to endure if I could just understand it all!
But sometimes understanding is not the point. Sometimes understanding can even be detrimental to how God wants to use what we’re going through to do a good work – not just out there in the circumstances around us, but inside us.
As we come into the Christmas season, it seems a perfect time to reflect on this idea. Christmas itself may be one of the ultimate occasions that was given to us not to make sense, but to make faith. John 3:16 tells us that God loved the world so much that He gave his only son for us, first in the form of a helpless baby, then as a minister to the people, and finally as a sacrifice on Calvary’s hill.
As far as religions go, it doesn’t make a lot of sense.
But the reason, John 3:16 continues, is so that anyone who believes in Jesus will have eternal life. Not understanding, but faith.
One of my favorite analogies for the logic behind the incarnation is in the story of the Christmas ducks that Paul Harvey relayed. (It’s worth hearing if you’ve never heard it.) It offers a sliver of “why” in a story that on its surface is incomprehensible. Despite these glimpses of understanding, the fullness of God will always escape our comprehension.
Ultimately, it doesn’t matter if we understand perfectly. God came in the flesh to make Himself known to us not so we would have a simple understanding, but so we would have a simple faith.
I think of Mary, of whom the Bible says several times after Jesus’ birth that she treasured all that was happening and pondered it in her heart (Luke 2). Even though there is bewilderment, I read a sense of serenity in these words, perhaps harkening back to her reply to the angel Gabriel – “I am the Lord’s servant, may it be to me as you have said.”
I have heard these words read many times with the emphasis on Mary’s subservience and willingness to go forward with God’s plan. I also see something beyond simple submission. I see trust the God will take care of her whatever is to come. She is not just any servant. “I am the Lord’s servant,” she said.
No amount of pondering was going to make sense of all the Mary was about to witness. But as God’s plan unfolded just as was foretold, there was the opportunity for faith.
We have the same opportunity to allow God’s Sprit to work within us. God can use whatever we are facing to grow our faith. And our faith, as Peter wrote, is of greater worth than gold.
Our God is not hidden. He made himself known on an unexpected Christmas morning, and He continues to make Himself known to us through the scriptures and through His Spirit. Regardless of whether this particular Christmas is a time of joy or a season of struggle, take a moment to look through your circumstances and see God’s presence in your life.
He has come, and he will continue to come, so that we may have faith to believe in Him.
This post was first shared at inspireafire.com. Merry Christmas!
Like a Shower of Leaves
I had forgotten the sound, but I remember it now.
Standing in a New England woods, watching the autumn leaves drift through the canopy, I flash back. I remember tumbling through giant piles of leaves, the scratch of rakes against the lawn, the smell of old work gloves and leafy tannins. I remember the sunlight, how it glowed gold and orange until it felt I was somehow walking through the inner glow of a jack-o-lantern.
If you asked me about my favorite autumn memories, these are the ones that would stir. But I had forgotten, until just now, this one:
A sound that is softer than raindrops but more alive than snowflakes. Like a hundred incandescent butterflies sifting through the branches and settling like whispers on the wind.
I had forgotten what it was like to spin in a circle with my face turned upward to watch so many leaves tumble out of the trees that they bounce off my hat and brush my outstretched hands. They flow like a curtain. Their tiny applause is like a chortle of gratitude. But soft. So soft I have to close my eyes and simply listen.
I had forgotten what it was like to be caught inside a shower of leaves. Not the handful that I see every year and run laughing to play catch with the sky. But a golden whirl that makes me catch my breath, and hold out my arms to be filled.
In that moment, more than my arms are filled. My own spirit lifts and swirls as though also touched by the light. It’s like the word God gave to Ezekiel when He promised “showers of blessing” to His people. There is something in the shower that fills me with hope and wonder and gratitude. Far too often I run after stray blessings, trying to snatch one from the sky. In the whisper of the leaves, I hear God whisper, “Stop. Hold out your arms to be filled.”
God will send showers in their season. Not just showers of rain or showers of leaves, but showers to bless us, sustain us, protect us, deliver us. He will meet our needs in the darkness, in the emptiness, and in the loneliness. When God’s showers come, nothing will make us afraid. We will know the most beautiful certitude of all: that the Lord our God is with us, and that we are His people. (See Ezekiel 34:25-31.)
It is easy to remember this when the golden showers come. But I am so thankful that God’s promise is just as true when the wind seems to blow across empty skies.
The empty-sky times are when we learn to listen harder, dig deeper, and trust further.
If God can do this with leaves, just imagine what else he can do.
Close your eyes. There is a whisper as soft as a butterfly wing. Do you hear it?
Hold our your arms to be filled.
This post was first written for inspireafire.com. I hope you enjoyed it!
Hope from the Father
I first shared this post at inspireafire.com.
I’ve heard it said that you can live several weeks without food, several days without water, and several minutes without oxygen; but you can’t live one second without hope.
If this is true, I want to know what it means to have hope.
I once had a friend describe to me a difficult time she had faced. She ended the account with these words: “But now, I have so much hope.”
I didn’t understand what she meant. I, too, had come through challenges, but hope had never entered into my retelling. I’ve thought a lot about this in the years since, as the cycles of life continued and I’ve faced even more challenging times. In those dark nights of despair, here is what I’m learning about hope.
Hope is believing that God will work all things together for good, even if it’s not in the way we would have chosen. And when we don’t feel like we believe that, hope is waiting to see if God will come through for us anyway. Hope, I have learned, has very little do to with feelings. Hope is not the same as peace. Hope is not the same as happiness. Hope is an expectation and a waiting and a holding on.
Perhaps you’ve heard the saying, “When you’ve reached the end of your rope, tie a knot and hold on.” That, my friends, is hope. In fact, one of the original Hebrew words used for hope can also mean a cord used for attachment.
That cord is our hope in God.
Not in a person. Not in a certain outcome.
When the world plunges us into darkness, hope is hanging onto God.
Hope is waiting for God when there is nothing else to wait for. Hope is continuing to live for God when there is nothing else to live for.
Hope is also the baseline for faith. Hebrews 11:1 says, “Faith is being sure of what we hope for.“ Faith is putting hope into action.
Think about the experience of driving on a dark road and needing to make a left turn. In that split second before your headlights swing around, you turn into pitch darkness. It can feel as though you are about to drive off a cliff. You cannot see anything, and you know the world outside is moving very fast.
In that moment, hope is believing that when you turn the car, the road will be there.
Faith is actually turning the car.
And this, as Paul said, is not by our own doing, but as a gift from God.
Hope in the darkness is not something we do alone. On the other end of that cord is a loving Father, strong enough to defend us, loving enough to protect us, and gentle enough to hold us. When we have done all we can do, our only job is to stand firm. Hope is waiting to see what God will do next. (See Ephesians 6:13.)
Hope in the darkness may not be the blazing light I thought it was. But the darker it is, the less light we need to see by. And as I wrote once before, God will teach us how to hope in the dark. There are times when hope may feel like a thin thread between our hands, but do not let that fool you.
Hope is as strong and as long and as wide as the Father’s arms that hold us.
When God is all You Need
I recently shared this post at https://inspireafire.com/when-god-is-all-you-need/. I hope it speaks to you as much as it does to me!
It sounds a little too spiritual, if you ask me.
Like a white-bearded guru sitting cross-legged on a mountaintop basking in nothing but the company of God: You never know that God is all you need, until God is all you have.
Nice in principle, but down here in the real world, I need food. And friendship. And meaningful work.
I didn’t begin to understand this saying… until recently.
It happened when I began to rely too heavily on one individual to be my source of joy and inspiration and comfort. If you asked me, I would have told you that of course I understood that one person, no matter how special, can never meet all of our needs all of the time. I thought I knew this, but deep down I apparently did not. And eventually, that relationship shifted like sand beneath my feet.
Then I found out what you do when God is all you have.
You hurt. A lot. And you wonder what people mean when they say God is all you need. You think they must have never felt anything quite like this, because you’re gripping God with two fists and it still feels like half your soul has been ripped away. You’re gripping God with two fists and there is absolutely and undoubtedly something more that you still need.
But you keep hanging on. And then you begin to understand.
At least, that’s how it’s unfolding for me.
“God-is-all-you-need” does not mean that we can live long, productive lives without food, friendship and meaningful work. It doesn’t mean we can live without pain when those we love are no longer with us. In fact, God created us with physical needs and emotional desires. Our bodies are designed to require regular inputs of energy and rest, emotional connectivity, and mental stimulation. ”God knows that you need these things,” Jesus told His disciples.
The catch is in what Jesus said next:
“But seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” (See Matthew 6:31-33.)
It’s counterintuitive, but when we seek God first, we allow Him to meet our needs in any way He chooses.
When we need physical affection, God can send someone to give us a hug.
When we need money to cover expenses, God can send someone to offer us a job or provide what we need.
When we need wise counsel, God can send His word through what we read or hear.
He may not use the person we expect, or even the person we want. God doesn’t provide us everything we need from the same person – or the same activity or the same source – all the time. The longer we think we may be the exception to this rule, the more shocking the collapse will be.
We have an amazing capacity for more. It is in the seed of eternity that God has planted in our hearts. It points to our eternal glory with Him. But when that drive for more shifts off its intended focus – God – and onto anything else, then we are blocking God’s intended provision.
“Your Heavenly Father knows that you need all of these things,” Jesus said.
Trust Him to provide for all your needs in His way and in His timing. Actively receive His gifts in whatever way He chooses to send them.
God is all you need, because ultimately, God is all you have. Everything else is simply a gift from Him.
Faith Like a Squeaky Toy
Have you ever wondered what’s inside a dog’s squeaky toy?
Of course not. Because if you’ve ever had a dog with a squeaky toy, you’ve already seen the inside.
Do you know how you got to see the inside? Because the outside was completely chewed up and destroyed.
Some days I feel like that squeaky toy.
The Bible tells us that Jesus Christ is in us (2 Corinthians 13:5). Unlike the inside of my dog’s squeaky toy, I don’t know what that looks like.
Unfortunately, I suspect the way we find out is very similar.
In times of trial, I question why God is making me go through this. I feel like I am being ripped apart and chewed up. Or maybe like I’ve been swallowed whole and am navigating a long, dark, winding passage that, quite frankly, stinks.
The reality is even worse than the metaphor.
I argue with myself – whether God is causing the suffering, whether I brought this on myself, whether there is any way to get through this dark night of the soul any faster, whether I am going to make it out at all.
My arguments go nowhere. But this is what the Bible says: That when we are tested by various trials – various fiery trials – the genuineness of our faith is being tested. And not just tested in the sense of does it exist and how strong is it, but tested in the sense of testing gold in the furnace. This means burning off the dross and refining our faith into something even more precious than gold.
Faith, I am coming to see, is not just revealed in the furnace of our trials, but actually made.
“I want a faith like that,” I used to think when I witnessed individuals who seemed to have an unwavering connection to God. I knew it was a dangerous prayer even when I said it, but I didn’t know it was going to hurt so, so bad.
I do not have an unwavering faith. But I am in the furnace. And I am clinging to this promise: that we are being guarded not by our own feeble strength of faith, but by God’s power. At the last time, the goal of our faith, like a chewed up squeaky toy, is going to be revealed. And that goal is the salvation of our souls (1 Peter 1:5-9).
Christ dwells within us now. Peter (1:8) urges us that though we have not seen Christ, we can love Him, and though we do not see Him now, we can believe in Him. Some day we will see Him face-to-face, but we don’t have to wait until then to know He is here.
Maybe we just have to listen for the squeak.
Sometimes it’s hard to hear over the roar of the furnace, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t there.
The Law is Gentle
I first posted this thought at http://www.inspireafire.com/the-law-is-gentle/
Martin Luther famously said that God’s Law serves three purposes. First, it acts as a curb to prevent violent outbursts of sin. Think of a curb along a road, or a curb bit in a horse’s mouth. The law is like that barrier saying “you can come this far… and no farther.”
Second, the law acts as a mirror. When we compare ourselves to the perfection demanded by God’s law – perfection not just in outward action but in thought and desire, too – then we begin to see ourselves in a new and unflattering light. Like a little league star tested against the professionals, we suddenly realize we might not be such hot stuff after all.
Finally, the law acts as a guide. Although we can never attain perfection on our own, we know from the Law what it looks like. We know what to aspire to. We know what to ask God to help us achieve.
And God does help us.
So often when we think of the Law we think of the rules and regulations. We may think of these curbs, mirrors, and guides. We may think of how far we fall short. But today, I’m also thinking of Jesus, weeping over Jerusalem with the words “How often I wanted to gather your children together as a hen gathers her chicks under her wings…” (Matthew 23:37).
All of the law’s harshness can be summarized in one gentle command: Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength (Mark 12:30).
Like chicks under a protective wing, we are called to press against Jesus. Do not beat against the curb, distress over the mirror, or try in vain to follow the guide. There is another way.
Love God.
That’s it. Love God.
Pursue Him. Run after Him. Seek Him. Love Him.
It sounds so simple, but there’s a catch. We have to want it. We have to want God more than anything else. More than any other relationship, more than any other passion, more than any other pursuit.
It is a gentle command. Which means it can be so easy to ignore. God will pursue us, but He will not force us to obey. We can choose to love so many other things. And I have found through my own wandering ways that when other loves begin to supersede the First Love, life begins to unravel in devastating ways.
The greatest command, Jesus said, is to love God. That one comes first.
Not second. Not somewhere down the line.
First.
Are you struggling? With loving others or loving yourself? With sin you can’t shake? With broken relationships, broken dreams, broken hope?
Refocus. On. God.
Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness and all these other things will be given to you. “You shall seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart,” saith the Lord (Jeremiah 29:13).
It is not a harsh command, but it is the most important one.
Love God.
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