Transition

There’s nothing more transitional than the month of March: cold, wet, blustery lion of a beginning evolving to gentle, warmer, stillness of a lamb. A 31-day jump from winter to spring.

Some people enjoy change. They like the thrill and exhilaration of its newness, of the hunt. They stand in transition’s way, puffing out their chest and bellowing, “Bring it on!” But others hide from change, taking shelter during the storm and choosing to stay there, fearful of what will come next. And although neither approach is healthy, both are fueled by pride—pride in that wedecide we know what's best, that we need to be in control one way or the other.

Do you look in the face of transition with a daring gaze, even when the LORD is telling you to take shelter? Or do you cower in fear, unsure that the God you serve is one who has your best interest in mind?

Ecclesiastes 3:1-11 tells us there is a time for everything and a season for every activity under heaven. That it is the LORD who makes everything beautiful in its time. Proverbs 3:5-6 instructs us to trust in the LORD with all our heart and not to lean on our own understanding, and Luke 12:18-31 shares with us the contrast of a desire to be in control vs. fear that comes from worrying. Yet all three deal with transition in their own way.

So next time you’re faced with a seemingly impossible transition, instead of heading it off at the pass with attitude or burying it in the ground to hide from it, remember God has promised to never leave you nor forsake you and to complete the good work He began in you, regardless of how difficult the transition may be.

Lord, transition is so hard. And trusting You can even be harder. Please teach me how to wait on You, to allow life’s transitions to progress in Your time, not mine, and to become moldable as You shape me into the person You want me to be. I praise You for what You have done, what You are doing, and what You’re about to do. In Jesus’s name. Amen.

Resolution, a Ten...no, make that Four-Letter Word

I don’t know how you feel about resolutions, but I hate them. Not at first, of course. But generally speaking, by the end of February I cringe at the thought of all the promises I’ve either already failed at keeping or realize there’s no way I’ll be able to keep. The ones I’ve made to myself are one thing. The ones I’ve made to the LORD are another.

How can I be sure His grace and mercy will cover even the boldest promises broken, made in arrogance (or foolishness) at the beginning of the year? By remembering what Paul said in 2 Corinthians 12:9: But [Jesus] said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Broken promises = weakness. Yet our amazing LORD delights in being able to lift up that which is broken and weak in our life and turn it into something beautiful and powerful so that He may be glorified!

Do you have broken promises you need to deal with? Maybe someone has broken their promise to you or your family. Then give it over to the LORD. Once you do, stand back and watch as His grace and mercy turns something once shattered into something whole and beautiful!

Thank you, LORD, for being our Resolution. Not just at the beginning of the year, but each and every day. Help me to learn to let go and give you what is broken and weak so You can turn it into something made perfect by Your power. I praise You for caring about all the shattered areas of my life. In Jesus’s Name. Amen.

Below the Foam

As I sit here trying to figure out what to write, I think of the times I had no problem sitting down and writing on paper what was in my heart. When I was a young girl, the opening lines began with something like “Once upon a time…” As I jumped into my teen years, it switched to “He broke my heart…” Still, each story/poem always spilled from a place deep inside me like an overturned bottle of ink.

So why do I find it so hard to write like that, now that I’m “grown up?”

Whether it be story, poem, article, or blog, writing deep usually means dredging up emotions I’m not quite sure I’m ready to handle. So I swim on the surface.

Don’t get me wrong…there’s nothing wrong with that. In fact, there are a lot of nice things to see when you’re swimming on the surface: the sky, the horizon, tropical islands—stuff like that. But when you dive deep, you experience beauty and wonder that is foreign to surface swimmers. There are colors and textures that God has hidden below the foam, held in check by the buoyancy that only diving deep can reveal.

When we allow the Holy Spirit to become the deep current—the spiritual thread—in our writing, we find ourselves face-to-face with wonders we never imagined. Sure, sometimes we might encounter a sea monster or two, but when that happens we can find peace in knowing He is right beside us, willing to be our champion. And it is there, within the profound aquamarine tranquility of His presence, that our true writing journey begins.

You wove through me a thread of gold
That touched my very soul
It bore the mark of majesty
And ancient days of old.
From hand to pen and back again
The depth Your heart did share
Dove deep into the waters
Revealing treasurers rare.
Awake my soul! so I may write
The words He has for me
This golden thread His Spirit weaves
Beneath the foam of sea.

("Below the Foam," written by J. N. Hups)