Even though this is a beautiful scripture that I love, more often than not I find myself thinking “I wish this was me…” rather than being encouraged that it IS me. It has at times been a heartache hope of who I would like to be, rather than an encouragement around who I am. The ‘it’ girl of faith, our benchmark... “where’s that fearless laugh girls?” Through the day to day ebb and flow of life, I sometimes feel clothed with frustration and tiredness, lack and emptiness… frowning at tomorrow with worry and apprehension. I don’t feel dignified when covered in baby vomit, or buried under research or 2 weeks behind in housework, or behind in my bills; I don’t feel strong when I can hardly get out of bed in the morning or I fail to deliver on a project at work, and to laugh without fear? Sometimes I think that only happens in the movies, and even then, only in very few. That is, of course, if we were to compare strength, dignity and fearlessness to the world's standard of them. “My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness” God whispered to a debilitated Paul (2 Cor 12:9). The slandered Psalmist cried, “But in the depths of my heart I truly know that you have become my Shield; You take me and surround me with yourself. Your glory covers me continually. You alone restore my courage; for you lift high my head when I bow low in shame.” (Ps 3:3 The Passion translation). God reassured a new and uncertain leader, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Josh 1:9). Paul wrote to those in Philippi and encouraged them to “not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil 4:6-7). When you view Proverbs 31:25 through the eyes of faith and through the lens of the stories found in the scriptures - strength in weakness, dignity through redemption, peace in the midst of fear - this woman seems a lot more real. A lot more attainable. She may even look a little familiar. In fact, if you look long enough, you might even find yourself staring at your own reflection. You will see that despite what you’ve done, where you are and what has happened to you, you are clothed with strength and dignity. Don’t allow these precious garments to fall to the floor only to gather dust and slowly be forgotten about. Pick them up with the bold humility of the redeemed and place them firmly upon your shoulders. Take a good look. They fit perfectly, they smell like grace and they look like faith. The peace you'll see in this wonderful picture will enliven your imagination, your dreams will return, and you’ll laugh not with the absence of fear, but with the knowledge that no amount of fear can exile the divine peace that dwells within you. The one that surpasses logic, reason and understanding. This scripture isn't exclusive to women, it's applicable to everyone and is ultimately a picture of the Church - the bride of Christ. It's who God has purposed us to be in our communities... A place of faith where people can find strength in the midst of their weakness, that restores dignity to those who are weighed down, and gives hope to the broken so they can smile at the possibilities awaiting them in their future - in this age and the age that is to come.
Even though this is a beautiful scripture that I love, more often than not I find myself thinking “I wish this was me…” rather than being encouraged that it IS me. It has at times been a heartache hope of who I would like to be, rather than an encouragement around who I am. The ‘it’ girl of faith, our benchmark... “where’s that fearless laugh girls?” Through the day to day ebb and flow of life, I sometimes feel clothed with frustration and tiredness, lack and emptiness… frowning at tomorrow with worry and apprehension. I don’t feel dignified when covered in baby vomit, or buried under research or 2 weeks behind in housework, or behind in my bills; I don’t feel strong when I can hardly get out of bed in the morning or I fail to deliver on a project at work, and to laugh without fear? Sometimes I think that only happens in the movies, and even then, only in very few. That is, of course, if we were to compare strength, dignity and fearlessness to the world's standard of them. “My grace is enough; it’s all you need. My strength comes into its own in your weakness” God whispered to a debilitated Paul (2 Cor 12:9). The slandered Psalmist cried, “But in the depths of my heart I truly know that you have become my Shield; You take me and surround me with yourself. Your glory covers me continually. You alone restore my courage; for you lift high my head when I bow low in shame.” (Ps 3:3 The Passion translation). God reassured a new and uncertain leader, “Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” (Josh 1:9). Paul wrote to those in Philippi and encouraged them to “not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” (Phil 4:6-7). When you view Proverbs 31:25 through the eyes of faith and through the lens of the stories found in the scriptures - strength in weakness, dignity through redemption, peace in the midst of fear - this woman seems a lot more real. A lot more attainable. She may even look a little familiar. In fact, if you look long enough, you might even find yourself staring at your own reflection. You will see that despite what you’ve done, where you are and what has happened to you, you are clothed with strength and dignity. Don’t allow these precious garments to fall to the floor only to gather dust and slowly be forgotten about. Pick them up with the bold humility of the redeemed and place them firmly upon your shoulders. Take a good look. They fit perfectly, they smell like grace and they look like faith. The peace you'll see in this wonderful picture will enliven your imagination, your dreams will return, and you’ll laugh not with the absence of fear, but with the knowledge that no amount of fear can exile the divine peace that dwells within you. The one that surpasses logic, reason and understanding. This scripture isn't exclusive to women, it's applicable to everyone and is ultimately a picture of the Church - the bride of Christ. It's who God has purposed us to be in our communities... A place of faith where people can find strength in the midst of their weakness, that restores dignity to those who are weighed down, and gives hope to the broken so they can smile at the possibilities awaiting them in their future - in this age and the age that is to come.
God loves us, right? God loves every part of His creation, true? In fact, God’s stockpiles of loyal love are so immense they would more than fill every ocean, crowd every forest and overwhelm every city on the planet. His love is boundless, plentiful, abundant, eternal and never ending. In fact, he loved the world so much that he gave his only Son; a very expensive price, wouldn’t you say? He goes a long way to prove his love for us. I don’t think he's trying to win brownie points… do you? I think LOVE is the divine nature of who he is. 1 John 4:8 says “Whoever does not love does not know God because God is love.” Does love cover? Yes! Does love correct? Yes! Does love separate action from identity? Indeed! Is it possible for God, who loves without limits, to discard humans quicker than one can say boo? Would he usher aside those that he painstakingly and grandly displayed his love for? Would he go against his own nature? He has, after all, created an elaborate plan to lower the metaphorical bridge over the chasm between humanity and himself. Unity heaven and earth, natural and supernatural. Love is that pathway and through Jesus, the door is wide open. The temple veil is torn in two… Boldness is now an acceptable way to enter his presence. So if love breaks the oppressive limitations off a relationship and we find ourselves with relationships that are broken, it is love that will pave the way to reconciliation. God knows and practises the art of redeeming those lost to him. He does it through his powerful yet tender love. "It’s patient and kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres." (1 Cor 13:4-8) Some say things are hopeless. Some agree that certain people are doomed. Even still, that there are situations beyond repair. Irredeemable. They have not yet met the love of God. A love loyal to his creation, his children, and to his own nature. His love never fails. Ever.
God loves us, right? God loves every part of His creation, true? In fact, God’s stockpiles of loyal love are so immense they would more than fill every ocean, crowd every forest and overwhelm every city on the planet. His love is boundless, plentiful, abundant, eternal and never ending. In fact, he loved the world so much that he gave his only Son; a very expensive price, wouldn’t you say? He goes a long way to prove his love for us. I don’t think he's trying to win brownie points… do you? I think LOVE is the divine nature of who he is. 1 John 4:8 says “Whoever does not love does not know God because God is love.” Does love cover? Yes! Does love correct? Yes! Does love separate action from identity? Indeed! Is it possible for God, who loves without limits, to discard humans quicker than one can say boo? Would he usher aside those that he painstakingly and grandly displayed his love for? Would he go against his own nature? He has, after all, created an elaborate plan to lower the metaphorical bridge over the chasm between humanity and himself. Unity heaven and earth, natural and supernatural. Love is that pathway and through Jesus, the door is wide open. The temple veil is torn in two… Boldness is now an acceptable way to enter his presence. So if love breaks the oppressive limitations off a relationship and we find ourselves with relationships that are broken, it is love that will pave the way to reconciliation. God knows and practises the art of redeeming those lost to him. He does it through his powerful yet tender love. "It’s patient and kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, and always perseveres." (1 Cor 13:4-8) Some say things are hopeless. Some agree that certain people are doomed. Even still, that there are situations beyond repair. Irredeemable. They have not yet met the love of God. A love loyal to his creation, his children, and to his own nature. His love never fails. Ever.
With the glorious historical perspective that hundreds of centuries and thousands of commentaries gives, the story of Esther seems straight forward. A girl's beauty opens the door to a great opportunity, she does all the right things, and then despite opposition from an old and evil man, she saves her people. And we all clap and think she is the epitome of ‘warrior princess.’ And she is - she was an amazing woman and is an incredible role model. But her amazingness did not dwell in her beauty, or in her assumed ability to do the right thing all the time (we only have a few chapters in the Bible outlining her whole life - there are many nuances and details that died with her). She was a woman of dreams and ideas, emotions and heartaches, fears and failures, conflicts and passions. She is a picture of you and I. Mordecai makes the difference in this story. Her loving uncle and advisor. He adopted her at birth and raised her as his own. An ever present source of help and strength… it was he who challenged and whispered purpose into Esther’s heart. It was he who saw her real beauty, the strength and keenness of her spirit and encouraged her to use it. Esther could have relied on her physical beauty and circumstances to keep her safe and privileged, but instead she used it as a coat rack for her inner calling. A foot up for her to speak on behalf of others and bring them closer to safety and peace. All the while, leaning on the encouragement and wisdom of Mordecai. Are you using your physical circumstances to satisfy the ‘entitlement’ epidemic that is arresting the western world? Or are you using what you’ve been given as a building block for community and the good of others? To rescue and bring hope, or horde and save for yourself? Who and what you listen to makes all the difference. What you say to someone else can make all the difference in them. If Esther didn’t have Mordecai and if he didn't speak words of purpose and faith into her life, I wonder what other voice she would have listened to? Jesus whispers, and sometimes shouts, into our hearts and minds “You were born for this very moment…” The moment in the check-out line when the person in front runs out of money; the moment in the playground where the bully is standing over the vulnerable, the moment in the workplace where someone is being ripped off… right now is your moment. And on the flip side; that moment you're on the floor blinded by pain, or you’ve run out of money, or you’ve failed yet again - now is the time to reach out and receive help and love. You were born for such a time as this, the moment you are in, to ask for help and to help. Community. Together. Jesus is your Mordecai. Listen to his words of love and purpose and pass the message onto others. For in such times as these, we all need it.
With the glorious historical perspective that hundreds of centuries and thousands of commentaries gives, the story of Esther seems straight forward. A girl's beauty opens the door to a great opportunity, she does all the right things, and then despite opposition from an old and evil man, she saves her people. And we all clap and think she is the epitome of ‘warrior princess.’ And she is - she was an amazing woman and is an incredible role model. But her amazingness did not dwell in her beauty, or in her assumed ability to do the right thing all the time (we only have a few chapters in the Bible outlining her whole life - there are many nuances and details that died with her). She was a woman of dreams and ideas, emotions and heartaches, fears and failures, conflicts and passions. She is a picture of you and I. Mordecai makes the difference in this story. Her loving uncle and advisor. He adopted her at birth and raised her as his own. An ever present source of help and strength… it was he who challenged and whispered purpose into Esther’s heart. It was he who saw her real beauty, the strength and keenness of her spirit and encouraged her to use it. Esther could have relied on her physical beauty and circumstances to keep her safe and privileged, but instead she used it as a coat rack for her inner calling. A foot up for her to speak on behalf of others and bring them closer to safety and peace. All the while, leaning on the encouragement and wisdom of Mordecai. Are you using your physical circumstances to satisfy the ‘entitlement’ epidemic that is arresting the western world? Or are you using what you’ve been given as a building block for community and the good of others? To rescue and bring hope, or horde and save for yourself? Who and what you listen to makes all the difference. What you say to someone else can make all the difference in them. If Esther didn’t have Mordecai and if he didn't speak words of purpose and faith into her life, I wonder what other voice she would have listened to? Jesus whispers, and sometimes shouts, into our hearts and minds “You were born for this very moment…” The moment in the check-out line when the person in front runs out of money; the moment in the playground where the bully is standing over the vulnerable, the moment in the workplace where someone is being ripped off… right now is your moment. And on the flip side; that moment you're on the floor blinded by pain, or you’ve run out of money, or you’ve failed yet again - now is the time to reach out and receive help and love. You were born for such a time as this, the moment you are in, to ask for help and to help. Community. Together. Jesus is your Mordecai. Listen to his words of love and purpose and pass the message onto others. For in such times as these, we all need it.
Part Two The disciples response to Jesus in this story is incredible. Rather than allowing their inability to heal the boy to overwhelm them with shame, causing them to shrink back with their tails between their legs, they questioned Jesus about it. Their desire to understand outweighed their sense of failure and they leaned in rather than hid away. They wanted to know what and how. It is such a great lesson for us to learn. Faith grows. It grows by hearing. Hearing comes about by asking questions, seeking knowledge, being willing to learn. As you listen to the infinite, the divine, the love and words of Jesus through the Bible, through prayer, in worship... faith grows. It overshadows sin nature and fear and becomes a strong tree in our lives. There are so many noises filling our ears, so many ’seeds’ being thrust into our hands, it can be hard to know which ones to plant and which ones to throw away. Which ones will grow into beautiful trees, and which ones into snarling weeds. It’s not the look of the seed that counts, it’s what is within that determines what it grows. So listen... listen to the wind, to the music, the trees, to the ocean, to the God whispers found in the ordinary, the everyday miracle of sunlight and indescribable glow of moonlight. Listen in your dreams and in your prayers, read his words, dive into the stories, find those seeds of faith, of impossibility and adventure; the seeds that interrupt the natural course of things and grow from small and insurmountable into tall, strong and life-giving. And be patient. Things grow with time and experience. Seeds need water and food and sunlight. So take your time, feed your heart well. Be like the disciples and don’t give up after one failure. See those times where things go wrong as a chance to strengthen your faith even more, to dig deeper and see more clearly. Spurgeon says, "Our faith may be small “as a grain of mustard seed,” but if it is living and true it links us with the Omnipotent One. Still is it true, “You shall say to this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and, it shall move.” Mountains shall move before our faith by means as sure as if they were miraculous; by means even more wonderful than if the course of nature had been changed. Comparatively speaking, the suspension of natural law is a coarse expedient, but for the Lord to work the same result without violating any of his laws is an achievement not less divine than a miracle. This is what faith obtains of the Lord at the present hour: her prayer is heard, and things impossible to herself are wrought by divine power. Spiritually and symbolically, the mountain is removed. Literally, at this hour the mountain stands, but faith finds a way around it, through it, or over it, and so in effect removes it.” Facing mountains? Plant seeds of faith right in front of them, even if they are the tiniest threads of hope. One day you’ll be able to climb that tree, and the mountain won’t look so scary or rocky or tall from its branches. In fact, it may not even be there at all.
Part Two The disciples response to Jesus in this story is incredible. Rather than allowing their inability to heal the boy to overwhelm them with shame, causing them to shrink back with their tails between their legs, they questioned Jesus about it. Their desire to understand outweighed their sense of failure and they leaned in rather than hid away. They wanted to know what and how. It is such a great lesson for us to learn. Faith grows. It grows by hearing. Hearing comes about by asking questions, seeking knowledge, being willing to learn. As you listen to the infinite, the divine, the love and words of Jesus through the Bible, through prayer, in worship... faith grows. It overshadows sin nature and fear and becomes a strong tree in our lives. There are so many noises filling our ears, so many ’seeds’ being thrust into our hands, it can be hard to know which ones to plant and which ones to throw away. Which ones will grow into beautiful trees, and which ones into snarling weeds. It’s not the look of the seed that counts, it’s what is within that determines what it grows. So listen... listen to the wind, to the music, the trees, to the ocean, to the God whispers found in the ordinary, the everyday miracle of sunlight and indescribable glow of moonlight. Listen in your dreams and in your prayers, read his words, dive into the stories, find those seeds of faith, of impossibility and adventure; the seeds that interrupt the natural course of things and grow from small and insurmountable into tall, strong and life-giving. And be patient. Things grow with time and experience. Seeds need water and food and sunlight. So take your time, feed your heart well. Be like the disciples and don’t give up after one failure. See those times where things go wrong as a chance to strengthen your faith even more, to dig deeper and see more clearly. Spurgeon says, "Our faith may be small “as a grain of mustard seed,” but if it is living and true it links us with the Omnipotent One. Still is it true, “You shall say to this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and, it shall move.” Mountains shall move before our faith by means as sure as if they were miraculous; by means even more wonderful than if the course of nature had been changed. Comparatively speaking, the suspension of natural law is a coarse expedient, but for the Lord to work the same result without violating any of his laws is an achievement not less divine than a miracle. This is what faith obtains of the Lord at the present hour: her prayer is heard, and things impossible to herself are wrought by divine power. Spiritually and symbolically, the mountain is removed. Literally, at this hour the mountain stands, but faith finds a way around it, through it, or over it, and so in effect removes it.” Facing mountains? Plant seeds of faith right in front of them, even if they are the tiniest threads of hope. One day you’ll be able to climb that tree, and the mountain won’t look so scary or rocky or tall from its branches. In fact, it may not even be there at all.
Part One Matt 13:31-32 says, “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree so that the birds come and perch in its branches.” In Chapter 17, Matthew tells the story of a young boy who was living possessed by a demon. His father took him to the disciples for prayer, but they were unable to heal him. So the father took him to Jesus and told him about the disciples inability to heal. Jesus was frustrated with the disciples, and then healed the boy. The disciples pulled Jesus aside and asked him how and why they failed. Jesus replied, “Because you have so little faith… if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move.” Strong's Concordance defines faith as “the conviction and belief that God exists and is the creator and ruler of all things.” Heb 11:1 says, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Things had been changing drastically for the disciples. They were working men who had suddenly become Rabbi’s in training - at least, being trained in The New Way that Jesus came to mark out for them. They had left behind their jobs, impacting their families and reputations; they had seen things and heard things that were different, their lives were heading in a completely new direction. Change, change and more change every day. And now Jesus had them healing people, or wanted them to. And they tried. In their own strength, they give it a red hot go. But rather than engaging that tiny mustard seed of faith, they worked hard in their own strength, used what could be seen, relied on they could see. They only knew what they knew. In this demon possessed boy, or whatever else might have been in front of them - sickness, lack, hurt, pain, mental illness... all they could see was a mountain. Impassable, immovable; in its volume and immensity unwilling to change. And this is the problem. We rely on the natural course of things - what was, and is will determine what will be. We look at a mountain and scream and shout and expend all our energy defying it and being angry knowing that, of course, a mountain cannot be moved. When by faith we could speak to it, find out its mysteries, discover its pathways; what shoes should we wear, what gear do we need to climb it, conquer it; to see it not as an impassable mountain, but a miracle waiting to happen. And who knows what we might find on the other side of the mountain? The real miracle is to go from seeing the mountains in our lives as a dead end to seeing them as something we can, by faith, overcome. Brene Brown says, “Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.” To be continued.
Part One Matt 13:31-32 says, “The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree so that the birds come and perch in its branches.” In Chapter 17, Matthew tells the story of a young boy who was living possessed by a demon. His father took him to the disciples for prayer, but they were unable to heal him. So the father took him to Jesus and told him about the disciples inability to heal. Jesus was frustrated with the disciples, and then healed the boy. The disciples pulled Jesus aside and asked him how and why they failed. Jesus replied, “Because you have so little faith… if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move.” Strong's Concordance defines faith as “the conviction and belief that God exists and is the creator and ruler of all things.” Heb 11:1 says, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” Things had been changing drastically for the disciples. They were working men who had suddenly become Rabbi’s in training - at least, being trained in The New Way that Jesus came to mark out for them. They had left behind their jobs, impacting their families and reputations; they had seen things and heard things that were different, their lives were heading in a completely new direction. Change, change and more change every day. And now Jesus had them healing people, or wanted them to. And they tried. In their own strength, they give it a red hot go. But rather than engaging that tiny mustard seed of faith, they worked hard in their own strength, used what could be seen, relied on they could see. They only knew what they knew. In this demon possessed boy, or whatever else might have been in front of them - sickness, lack, hurt, pain, mental illness... all they could see was a mountain. Impassable, immovable; in its volume and immensity unwilling to change. And this is the problem. We rely on the natural course of things - what was, and is will determine what will be. We look at a mountain and scream and shout and expend all our energy defying it and being angry knowing that, of course, a mountain cannot be moved. When by faith we could speak to it, find out its mysteries, discover its pathways; what shoes should we wear, what gear do we need to climb it, conquer it; to see it not as an impassable mountain, but a miracle waiting to happen. And who knows what we might find on the other side of the mountain? The real miracle is to go from seeing the mountains in our lives as a dead end to seeing them as something we can, by faith, overcome. Brene Brown says, “Faith is a place of mystery, where we find the courage to believe in what we cannot see and the strength to let go of our fear of uncertainty.” To be continued.
Some of us spend a lot of time living backwards - thinking about things that could have and should have been; things that have left us heartbroken, disappointed, or just embarrassed. Some of us fantasise about our past successes and achievements, revelling in moments long after they’re gone, spoon feeding them to our self-esteems. Regurgitating them. We feed today on the things that happened yesterday. The what-ifs, if-onlys, should-haves and could-haves will eat your heart and the joy right out of you. And the successes of yesterday can make the consistent and somewhat slow momentum of this moment seem unexciting and unproductive. I’ve been thinking about the past lately, recent and distant. Some moments I’ve had no control over, and others that were completely me. But all of them combined have been chewing me up, gnawing at my soul. Then in the quiet I heard the voice of God whisper to my heart “let it go…” gently encouraging me to leave the past where it is, the good and the bad, and move forward. Some of the letting go was hard. Is hard. There are things that I want to be different, chances I wish I took, people who live in my past and not my present, moments of perceived success that gave me a sense of self-worth and security; all memories that I’ve been eating to give me a taste of what was. Other memories are haunting, they lull me into a daze of failure and timidity, paralysing my will to move forward. All of those things have made me who I am today and have brought me to this place, so I remain thankful for them. In his infinite ways, the Divine wastes nothing. But to move forward, I must stop looking back. I can’t change yesterday, tomorrow is not yet here, but I do have this day. Instead of feeding myself the regurgitated moments of what has been, God is teaching me to live on the three things that remain through it all: faith, hope and love. Take the lessons of yesterday in one hand, hope and faith for tomorrow in the other, and walk through this day in love. No matter what has transpired, no matter what situations we leave behind, there is yet more for us to discover and experience. And the possibilities are truly endless. So I’ve been burying some hurts, removing memories and ideas that were growing like cancers on my heart, and allowing Jesus to fill me with the joy of this moment and the hope of tomorrow. I’m letting go. Paul writes in Phil 3:13-14 “but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Let’s not live backwards, but be thankful and press on to hope. Lean into God's strength, squeeze every drop out of today and then do the same tomorrow - dream with purpose and wonder. Don’t dwell on yesterday, live fully in the now and reignite our hope for all our tomorrows.
Some of us spend a lot of time living backwards - thinking about things that could have and should have been; things that have left us heartbroken, disappointed, or just embarrassed. Some of us fantasise about our past successes and achievements, revelling in moments long after they’re gone, spoon feeding them to our self-esteems. Regurgitating them. We feed today on the things that happened yesterday. The what-ifs, if-onlys, should-haves and could-haves will eat your heart and the joy right out of you. And the successes of yesterday can make the consistent and somewhat slow momentum of this moment seem unexciting and unproductive. I’ve been thinking about the past lately, recent and distant. Some moments I’ve had no control over, and others that were completely me. But all of them combined have been chewing me up, gnawing at my soul. Then in the quiet I heard the voice of God whisper to my heart “let it go…” gently encouraging me to leave the past where it is, the good and the bad, and move forward. Some of the letting go was hard. Is hard. There are things that I want to be different, chances I wish I took, people who live in my past and not my present, moments of perceived success that gave me a sense of self-worth and security; all memories that I’ve been eating to give me a taste of what was. Other memories are haunting, they lull me into a daze of failure and timidity, paralysing my will to move forward. All of those things have made me who I am today and have brought me to this place, so I remain thankful for them. In his infinite ways, the Divine wastes nothing. But to move forward, I must stop looking back. I can’t change yesterday, tomorrow is not yet here, but I do have this day. Instead of feeding myself the regurgitated moments of what has been, God is teaching me to live on the three things that remain through it all: faith, hope and love. Take the lessons of yesterday in one hand, hope and faith for tomorrow in the other, and walk through this day in love. No matter what has transpired, no matter what situations we leave behind, there is yet more for us to discover and experience. And the possibilities are truly endless. So I’ve been burying some hurts, removing memories and ideas that were growing like cancers on my heart, and allowing Jesus to fill me with the joy of this moment and the hope of tomorrow. I’m letting go. Paul writes in Phil 3:13-14 “but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” Let’s not live backwards, but be thankful and press on to hope. Lean into God's strength, squeeze every drop out of today and then do the same tomorrow - dream with purpose and wonder. Don’t dwell on yesterday, live fully in the now and reignite our hope for all our tomorrows.
Care Less - Part 1 "Do not fret or worry..." Paul urged whoever it was he was writing to in Philippa (Phil 4:6). Jesus told his listeners during his famous 'Sermon on the Mount,' to "Forsake their worries." (Matt 6:31.) It seems we have permission to care less about things than we do. We all worry. And worry is not a sin. (I've written about this before. If you want to read more about it, do a deep dive in our archives.) Worry is a symptom of care. You can't care about people and ideas and politics and policies and education and children and relationships and health and movements, and all the other things that one is want to care about, without experiencing a degree of worry. It's normal. And it's OK. What's not OK is when worry stops you from being who you're meant to be, doing the work you're meant to be doing, while allowing others the same freedom. It's not that Jesus and Paul were demonising worrying, or being worried, or caring deeply enough about things and people that you're not cavalier in your treatment of them. But that we can afford to care less about some things. "Look at the birds," Said Jesus... "free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to God than birds." (Matt 6:26.) Worry and fear have their place. They do. They are essential for survival. They keep you from doing stupid and even life-threatening things (again, I've written about this before...). But sometimes, we take it too far. Out of balance, outside of healthy tensions, worry becomes our job description and ties us down in fear and pain and trepidation. And this kind of worry? It makes us do irrational, careless things. It makes us believe inhumane things. It causes us to see people and situations and ideas with a twisted bias, usually from a place of scarcity and over-self-protection. I have three kids, aged ten, seven, and seven months. I worry about them and their future. That worry has helped me make choices about what food to buy, what activities they should and shouldn't be involved in, how I spend my time... all kinds of things. But there have been those nights and days and moments where I've been so twisted up with worry and fear that I've been powerless to do anything. And then, on the other hand, I've funnelled all my pent up worry and fear and angst into other things like reputation, image, institutions, being right, being good, being desirable, being accepted, and more. Instead of facing my fears, I've poured them into others, buying the lies of hierarchy and division. Does this happen to you? You have permission to care less, to take it back a notch. To be like the birds, free and unfettered, careless in the grip of grace. Which doesn't mean that you don't care... It doesn't mean that you don't get passionate about people and causes and beliefs. But your care and your passion empower you, not hinder you. They open your heart, not keep it closed. They take you into higher realms of freedom and love, not smaller rooms of elitism and privilege. Ultimately, we care less about some things so that we can care more about others. So we can get to the heart of things, and live true and deep and full. We care less about the futile so we can engage the vital. If there is any deception at work in the world, it's to place our care and attention onto things that are not worth our precious time, energy, and hearts. There's a difference between giving up and letting go. To let go of the worry and fear that has shaped your life into something barely recognisable is the brave thing to do. Let go of people's opinions, let go of toxic beliefs. Let go of harmful thoughts about your self and your value. Let go of shame, and even let go of the idea of your dignity being in achievements and image and social status. Care a little less.
Care Less - Part 1 "Do not fret or worry..." Paul urged whoever it was he was writing to in Philippa (Phil 4:6). Jesus told his listeners during his famous 'Sermon on the Mount,' to "Forsake their worries." (Matt 6:31.) It seems we have permission to care less about things than we do. We all worry. And worry is not a sin. (I've written about this before. If you want to read more about it, do a deep dive in our archives.) Worry is a symptom of care. You can't care about people and ideas and politics and policies and education and children and relationships and health and movements, and all the other things that one is want to care about, without experiencing a degree of worry. It's normal. And it's OK. What's not OK is when worry stops you from being who you're meant to be, doing the work you're meant to be doing, while allowing others the same freedom. It's not that Jesus and Paul were demonising worrying, or being worried, or caring deeply enough about things and people that you're not cavalier in your treatment of them. But that we can afford to care less about some things. "Look at the birds," Said Jesus... "free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to God than birds." (Matt 6:26.) Worry and fear have their place. They do. They are essential for survival. They keep you from doing stupid and even life-threatening things (again, I've written about this before...). But sometimes, we take it too far. Out of balance, outside of healthy tensions, worry becomes our job description and ties us down in fear and pain and trepidation. And this kind of worry? It makes us do irrational, careless things. It makes us believe inhumane things. It causes us to see people and situations and ideas with a twisted bias, usually from a place of scarcity and over-self-protection. I have three kids, aged ten, seven, and seven months. I worry about them and their future. That worry has helped me make choices about what food to buy, what activities they should and shouldn't be involved in, how I spend my time... all kinds of things. But there have been those nights and days and moments where I've been so twisted up with worry and fear that I've been powerless to do anything. And then, on the other hand, I've funnelled all my pent up worry and fear and angst into other things like reputation, image, institutions, being right, being good, being desirable, being accepted, and more. Instead of facing my fears, I've poured them into others, buying the lies of hierarchy and division. Does this happen to you? You have permission to care less, to take it back a notch. To be like the birds, free and unfettered, careless in the grip of grace. Which doesn't mean that you don't care... It doesn't mean that you don't get passionate about people and causes and beliefs. But your care and your passion empower you, not hinder you. They open your heart, not keep it closed. They take you into higher realms of freedom and love, not smaller rooms of elitism and privilege. Ultimately, we care less about some things so that we can care more about others. So we can get to the heart of things, and live true and deep and full. We care less about the futile so we can engage the vital. If there is any deception at work in the world, it's to place our care and attention onto things that are not worth our precious time, energy, and hearts. There's a difference between giving up and letting go. To let go of the worry and fear that has shaped your life into something barely recognisable is the brave thing to do. Let go of people's opinions, let go of toxic beliefs. Let go of harmful thoughts about your self and your value. Let go of shame, and even let go of the idea of your dignity being in achievements and image and social status. Care a little less.