You Watch. You Wait. You'll See.

A number of years ago as I was driving through town I caught the tail end of a radio interview.  I can’t remember much about the interview other than the part where the interviewee shared that God had spoken to her in regard to her life saying, “You watch. You wait. You’ll see.”

Those six words resonated within my own spirit, so I scribbled them on my checkbook divider as I continued to drive.

Each time I opened my checkbook, those six scribbled words jumped out at me.  I wondered what God was up to and why I still felt the power of the words “You watch. You wait. You’ll see.”

I was certain God was about to reveal something big in my tiny world—and He was!

As I watched and waited on the Lord over the years, areas of my life crumbled that at one time had appeared to be unshakeable.  With each step of obedience to what God spoke to my heart in early morning prayer, He changed the entire landscape of my “familiar.” 

Onlookers would NOT have described what was happening as amazing and yet I kept hearing my Father speak to my fearful heart, “You watch. You wait. You’ll see.”

It has only been in recent weeks that I have been re-reminded of those words as another wave of change crashed into my world.  

This time, though, something feels different. I am able to see my circumstances through a different lens.  In utter desperation to walk the path of His choosing; I have refused to believe that I know what is best for me.

I am watching the world around me with new eyes.  Instead of focusing on temporal circumstances, He is teaching me about what is truly important: people.  I am seeing the narrowness of the path and the ease with which truth can be sprinkled with untruth.  I am watching changes that break my heart as the god of this age is subtly stealing the hearts of God’s children with lies, deception, apathy, disregard for holiness and righteousness, and the list goes on.

I am seeing a lost world fill the void within with anything and everything to temporarily relieve the longing that can only be filled with God.  I know, because sometimes I also fill the void with something tangible in an attempt to diminish the deep aching within.

I have felt both frustration and anger as I cry to my Father, “I’m watching and waiting, but I’m only seeing pain, betrayal and loss!”  However, somewhere along the path, in the process of daily surrendering my will to His will, I am realizing something:  God, in His goodness, longs to strip us of what doesn’t matter, not to punish us but rather as a gift so that He can fill us with the only thing that truly matters-- a deeper revelation of Him.

Although God cares about our circumstances; what matters eternally is the state of our hearts and our souls.  

As we wait upon the Lord, He will renew our strength.  He will fill us with His Spirit and we will soar on wings like eagles.  We will run and not grow weary. (Isaiah 40:31)  We are like a city on a hill; we cannot be hidden. (Matthew 5:14).  We are His mighty warriors; not those who shrink back and are destroyed but those who believe and are saved. (Hebrews 10::39)   

Nothing and no one can thwart His plan for our lives.(Isaiah 14:27)

You watch. You wait. You’ll see. 

Stay the Course…

Sheila

A Horse Named Courage

There once was an old horse named Courage.

Courage stood quietly in the pasture as the strong autumn wind played with her well-worn mane.

No one paid her much mind as she buried her nose into the bale of hay.  This had not always been the case—back in the day, Courage had been the object of great attention due to her strong, fast legs and her unmatched tenacity to be the first horse in on race day.

Young and determined, she had spent countless hours with her trainer learning everything necessary to make sure that the dust from the track was far behind her.

Remembering the anticipation of standing at the start gates just before the chutes flung open, signaling the start to the race, brought a surge of adrenaline to the old horse.  Courage was known for racing with the splendor and confidence of a horse who knew she was prepared to win.

The early days were a blur as she took in all the experiences of a winner.  She was well groomed, well fed, well known and well loved.  

But as time has a way of doing, the years eventually took their toll on Courage.  At first the recovery times between races were sufficient.  Small injuries would mend quickly and Courage would once again be off to the races.  Life, however, has a way of throwing curve balls, and Courage received more than her share of set backs. 

With every set back, Courage dug deep into the resolve of her spirit, searching for strength to make one more lap around the track.  

Eventually life’s brutality can leave its mark on even the most tenacious of creatures, even a horse named Courage.

What Courage had to give was no longer enough.  

Expectations placed upon her led only to disappointments.  Then one day, like silence in the still of night, Courage slipped quietly into the back pasture where she was quickly forgotten.

From time to time young race horses would graze in the pasture next to Courage.  They were young and naive as she had once been.  They did not care to hear of the days of past, of the stories that were locked within the heart of Courage.  Too caught up were they in their own moments of fleeting glory.  

Courage stood quietly in the pasture as the strong autumn wind played with her well-worn mane.

There once was an old horse named Courage.

Stay the Course...

Sheila

Pick Up Your Tent Pegs

Since our move to Alaska less than a year and a half ago we settled into a rental house that some good friends opened up to our family.  

As a realtor, I assist people with both the buying and selling of homes—that’s what I do.

When we decided to purchase our own home in Alaska, the thought was one of excitement.  However, once we secured a home and were about to “seal the deal” I experienced mixed emotions.  I was a realtor afraid of real estate.

The freedom of being a renter and being able to pick up my tent pegs in a moments notice brought a sense of freedom to my spirit.  

The thought of being a homeowner, driving the tent pegs deep into the soil of commitment, felt unsettling.

After sharing this fear and realizing the irony of a realtor being afraid of buying a home I thought about how we are to view the geography of our tent pegs.

In the Gospel of Matthew we are privy to a conversation Jesus has with a teacher of the law who says to Jesus, “Teacher, I will follow you wherever you go.” (Mt. 8:19)

Jesus replies, “Foxes have holes and birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head.” (vs.20)

Jesus held His tent pegs very loosely by placing them in His Father’s hands.  

Interestingly, we are not told whether or not the teacher of the law left everything to follow Jesus.  Instead the question is left hanging in the air for each one of us to ponder for ourselves, should Jesus ask us to leave everything to follow Him.

Our security does not rest in owning a home or in a job.  The state we live in geographically does not matter so much as the condition of the state of our hearts.

Being willing to pick up our tent pegs in a moments notice allows us the freedom to walk into the realm of the spirit that we, as believers, have been called to walk.  

So, though we have driven tent pegs into the ground of home ownership once again, I know in my heart that my home is with God.  The pegs have not been driven so deep that they cannot be picked up once again.

Should our Father say, “Pick up your tent pegs,” I pray our response will be  as Ruth’s response to Naomi, “Whither Thou goest, I go.”  

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Hollow Legs & Whitewashed Tombs

During a recent move, a childhood memory surfaced of a time that our family relocated many years ago.  With the disassembly of our kitchen table, pieces of green, hard liver fell from the hollow legs.  Come to find out our little brother didn’t care for liver and had found a clever way through those horrific meals by secretly stuffing his liver pieces into the hollow table legs. 

Today, as I think about the day my brother’s secret was revealed, and the shock on our parent’s faces, I can only laugh.

We all have secrets that have been stuffed somewhere.

In the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus spares no punches as he addresses the teachers of the law and the Pharisees when he says, “You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean.” (Matthew 23:27)

Jesus goes on to say, “In the same way, on the outside you appear to people as righteous but on the inside you are full of hypocrisy and wickedness.” (vs. 28)

I think about this scripture a lot; especially on Sunday morning as I walk through the doors of the church.  I think about all those in my circle of influence who refuse to walk through the doors of a church because they are uncomfortable being in a room full of hollow legs and whitewashed tombs.  

In acknowledging my own struggles with being real, instead of walking through church doors wearing my “I’ve-got-it-all-together” smile I am learning to enter church “just as I am.”  Some days, I am not pretty.  I am full of everything unclean.

Humbling.  Uncomfortable. Frustrating.

Last week I had an honest encounter from a lady after church who had noticed that I was not looking like a happy, pretty Christian.  It was as if she had discovered my hidden green pieces of liver that I had been hiding.  Instead of judging me, she was free to reveal secrets hidden in the hollow legs of her own heart.

God is showing me that although we are made holy and righteous in Him because of Jesus Christ; we are called to be clothed in grace, mercy, love and humility-not full of self righteousness or hypocrisy.   Whitewashed tombs full of dead men’s bones and everything unclean is not what the world is seeking; they are seeking the God of truth and hope.  

As we pour out the unclean garbage stuffed within our hollow hearts; He replaces our garbage with His goodness.  

Authentic hearts seeking after God’s heart welcome everyone with open arms into the family of God, and into the church—even a ragamuffin like me.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Grace, Amazing Grace

Hebrews 4:16 “Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.” 

Seems there’s been a common theme in my tiny world as of late: grace.  I’ve been caught on both sides of grace, but mostly on the humble receiving side.

God is amazing in his ability to teach us something that we don’t think we need to learn.  I approach the Throne of Grace thinking I have something to bring to my Father; I leave realizing how abundant is His grace for me, should I chose to receive.  It’s difficult to receive something that we do not see ourselves in need of—impossible, in fact.

The paradigm of my faith has been shifting over the last several years as God continues to reveal more truth.  I am not always eager to change or bend in His direction, which is where Amazing Grace enters, enveloping me with patient arms.

For years my energy has been spent trying to impress God with things that, come to find out, He is not impressed with at all.  One day Amazing Grace picked me up and sat me on the bench where I was able to watch but not participate in all the things that I once believed earned me a spot on the floor of God’s Throne Room.  

Everything was stripped away.  My resources, my titles, my friends, my identity—everything.

I can not begin to count the times I have taken laps around the mountain in search of all that was lost, in search of redemption.  Always, Amazing Grace awaits my arrival at the end of the trail; a place called Wits End.  

When I approach the Throne of Grace;  knees bent, head bowed, hands empty; every single time He accepts me just as I am.  I am slowly beginning to grasp the truth that it is because of His grace and mercy that I am accepted; nothing else. 

On the horizontal level, God has placed people in my life who are able to see me as He sees me.  These people also happen to possess a great portion of Amazing Grace.  For a woman who at one time thought she had so much to offer to the world, I am humbled to admit that the only thing I have to offer the world flows out of that which I have freely received.  To the level with which I am able to trust and receive, to that level only can I give.  Oh for grace to trust Him more.

My prayers as of late do not consist of requests to understand myself but rather carry a deep hunger to understand my Maker.  Spending time with the One who holds everything in His arms of Amazing Grace is what continues to save a wretch like me.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Today’s Prayer:  “Father, Your Word speaks of Your grace and mercy in scripture after scripture.  I can read the scriptures over and over, but without Your Spirit revealing truth I cannot grasp the weight of the power they encapsulate.  Please meet me in my place of limited understanding and release the chains that bind my soul; Your truth shall surely set me free.  Holy Spirit, please flood me with grace, mercy, compassion and love so that I might be poured out as water upon cracked soil of a land that is parched and thirsty.  I am desperate for You.  May my life bring a smile to Your face and fill You with joy as I continue to PUSH and PRESS into the heart of knowing You, my Father.  In Jesus name I pray, amen.”

What is Prayer?

(This is the one devotional I wrote that I come back to time and again to revisit...I hope you can relate.)

Psalm 5:1 “Give ear to my words, O Lord, consider my sighing.”

Have you ever been so angry, frustrated or grieved that you were at a loss for words? Instead we sigh or groan or scream to God.  Could emotions expressed without words be considered prayer?

There is a motivating picture of war painted for us in I Chronicles as the Reubenites, the Gadites and the half-tribe of Manasseh—44,760 able-bodied men ready for military service, war against four opposing tribes.  As the war ensues, God hands their allies over to them “because they cried out to him during the battle.  He answered their prayers because they trusted in him.” (I Chronicles 5:18-20).  

Imagine this bloody war scene with 44,760 men crying out to God—cries in the thick of war, imploring God to come to their aid.  I am convinced that their prayers were not proper, pretty prayers spoken with eloquence.  They could have only been loud cries of desperation from grown men who realized their humanity and feared for their lives.  As they fought, shield in one hand, sword or bow in the other, there was no denying that the only hope they had was God.   

In times of great desperation, great pain, or grief, our prayers become cries, screams, groans or sighs; and sometimes complete silence or body-wrenching sobs.  

In Guerillas of Grace, Ted Loder’s perspective of prayer puts it this way, 

“How shall I pray?

Are tears prayers, Lord?

Are screams prayers,

Or groans

Or sighs

Or curses?

Can trembling hands be lifted to you, 

Or clenched fists

Or the cold sweat that trickles down my back

Or the cramps that knot my stomach?

Will you accept my prayers, Lord,

My real prayers,

Rooted in the muck and mud and rock of my life,

And not just the pretty, cut-flower, gracefully arranged

Bouquet of words?

Will you accept me, Lord,

As I really am,

Messed up mixture of glory and grime?

As God’s children, we are not left alone in our battles and our weaknesses, “In the same way, the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” (Rom.8:26)  God hears our sighs and our groans, as the Spirit intercedes for us in accordance with God’s will.

In the messy battles of life, our cries and groans are lifted to heaven as we surrender our will to His.  When the battle becomes so dark that we fear we will not be left standing, He hears us and answer our prayers.  A breakthrough happens as we break down and trust God with every ounce of our being.

Even in our darkest moments, we are not alone.  

We shall stand— shield in one hand, sword in the other, God’s fearless warriors.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Today’s Prayer:  “Father, there are times when I pray and I have no words.  The weight I carry can only be expressed with sighs and groans as I still myself in Your presence.  Sometimes in silence I cry out to You.  Holy Spirit, thank You for interceding with groans that words cannot express.  Without You, I would be left without hope.  Sometimes, in the middle of my battles, I am weak and unable to stand. You reveal Yourself to me in my weakness time and again with both strength and gentleness.  Father, Your unfailing love shakes me to the core.  In dark moments when I have nothing to offer, You still hold me in the arms of Your faithful love. I am truly a messed up mixture of glory and grime.  May my confidence rest on Your character and not on my circumstances.  I am desperate for more of You.  In Jesus name I pray, Amen.”

Back Stage

It’s taken nearly half a century for me to figure out a key reality about life: real life happens back stage.

As I stood with the congregation for worship this morning my mind reflected back on my week.  I pondered the moments I had spent in worship throughout the week in the hidden sanctuary of my own bedroom—alone.  With an audience of One, I expressed my thoughts, prayers and songs of worship.  Sunday morning worship is simply a continuation of worship, shared with my brothers and sisters in Christ.

It all starts back stage, where no one is watching.

Every area of life must find its origin back stage before entering center stage.

For example, parenting isn’t what happens on stage, but rather a byproduct of what has been happening for months and years backstage, in the sacred place we call home.  Parenting is what happens as you tuck your daughter into bed after a tough day at school and attempt to explain to her why girls can be so mean.  One day in a stage-left moment, barely visible to the audience, your daughter may be the one who speaks words of kindness when kindness is not merited.  

Athleticism and musical talent are often years in the making before seen by the smallest of audiences.  The back stories of those who have stolen the show with their magnificent talents are often marked with many years of struggles and failures back stage.  

The ultimate example of a person who spent most of His life back stage, away from the crowds, away from the fame, was the Son of God—Jesus.

Jesus never drew attention to Himself, everything He did was to bring glory to His Father.  For the first thirty years of His life, few knew who He was yet He never needed the applause of man to affirm Him; only the heart of His Father.  Though faced with every temptation known to man, He remained sinless and unwavering in His devotion to serve an audience of One.  

When the time came for Jesus' ministry to begin on stage, He poured out of Himself all that He had received from His Father while in the secret places, back stage, away from the crowds.  Everything He said and everything He did was done to promote God, not Himself.  Jesus never sought out center stage, never wanted the spotlight to rest on Him.

And when, at the end of His life, Jesus was given center stage, He willingly accepted the role as He hung on a cross with nails in His hands and feet, a crown of thorns upon His head.  In the moment that He took our sins upon Himself so that we might one day spend eternity with Him in Paradise—in that moment His Father turned His back on Him and He was left alone to feel the weight of sin and darkness.  It was in His greatest moment of anguish that He drew His last breath and spoke His last words, “It is finished.”  

And then the stage went black.  The main character was dead.  His life given so that we might have eternal life.  

Back stage doesn’t prepare us for a big moment on center stage where we can receive applause from an audience.  Back stage is where we are strengthened at the feet of the One who went before us so that when He calls us to the stage, we are able to pour out to others the same sacrificial love that was once poured out for us.

Stay the Course...

Sheila