Find Your Way Back

Many years ago I had a pastor who told me that my passion for running was not a good thing and that I needed to stop running so that God could be my greatest passion.

So I stopped running. 

At the peak of the best days of my running, when my body was still cooperating, and I had trained my mind to stay the course no matter the circumstances, I stopped. 

Ironically, several years later, after our family moved away, that same pastor began to run. He convinced everyone on his staff to run as well, and they all participated in running events in the community just as I once had. 

It was a confusing turn of events at the time. For years I wondered why I had believed that another person could know better than me the real intent of my heart (but that’s another blog for another day!).

This week my thoughts turned back to running. I remembered all the runs I had taken on backcountry roads by myself and the powerful moments I had experienced with God mid-run from as far back as my teenage years. Running always took me to a place of freedom from the cares of the world. As I trained myself to push beyond my natural level of comfort to a new area of dependence and vulnerability to my Maker, my soul became awakened and fully alive with each run. 

Yesterday in my time of prayer, I anointed my head with oil and sought after the heart of my Maker—I needed to find my way back to the only One who knows the truth and the wiring of my mind, will, and emotions—in essence, my soul.

And then, I dusted off my running shoes, grabbed my ancient iPod and took a run. 

This morning I ran longer and further than yesterday. I ran with a full heart (and a tiny pebble in my left shoe). I ran through blowing cotton, barking dogs, and down quiet gravel roads. I no longer ran at race speed, but nonetheless, I ran. I felt the gaze of my Father as He watched me finding my way back to His heart.

I realize now that sometimes the only way to find your way back to the heart of God is to look back no longer. Paul describes this concept beautifully in the Word of God, “But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:13(b))

What is the unique gift your Father has given to you that takes you instantly into His presence? Regardless of your age, your size, your income bracket, or what anyone has told you about what you can or cannot do to honor God with your true self—I implore you to seek God in prayer and ask Him what it is you must do to find your way back to becoming a vessel that radiates His love. And then do it and don’t look back. The power of the lies you have believed will drop as fast as a lead ball in a pool of water once you determine to press onward and forward.

Our ultimate goal remains that one day, we shall stand alone, on our own two feet, face-to-face with Jesus. So don’t be afraid to find your way back to the One who will always have your back—your audience of One.

Of one thing and one thing alone, I am sure: when I leave this world and step into eternity—I will not be walking. I will be running as fast as I can toward the King of Kings and the Father of my heart.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Shadow of Your Wings

Psalm 17:8 “Keep me as the apple of your eye; hide me in the shadow of your wings from the wicked who assail me, from my mortal enemies who surround me.” 

Life is hard. 

There—I said it. 

Sometimes it's a struggle as a man or woman of faith to acknowledge the truth of the world we live in.  We are tempted to cover up the fact with a flippant remark to portray that nothing thrown our way will get us down. For example, we say, “Life is hard—but God is good.” 

What we are needing to express at this moment is that we are struggling. Yep. Believer’s struggle too. And yes, God is very good. We know this both in our heads and in our hearts, but nonetheless, we sometimes struggle.

The vulnerability required to reveal our humanness when we are struggling is tremendous.

Jesus shared a vital nugget of truth with His disciples regarding the struggles of living in this world, just before He left them and went back to heaven, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

This morning, I decided to slow down and rest in this peace Jesus promised. I needed to know that He could receive me, a sinner saved by grace, even when I felt like a failure struggling in a world filled with troubles.

I believe that God’s promises are always available if we are willing to believe and receive them, in spite of feelings of worthlessness, in our moments of struggle and weakness. 

The presence of the Spirit, the same Spirit Jesus sent to the early disciples, met me. I didn’t have to perform or impress Him. I didn’t have to convince Him of anything or try to sell Him on why He should forgive me for the million trillionth time. Instead of pushing me away because of my own unworthiness and unbelief, He pulled me close and filled my empty soul with Him—my worthiness was found in the shadow of His wings.

The Giver of life and death, hope and peace, joy and strength, is found when we enter a sacred place known as the Shadow of His Wings. Tucked away in the shadow of His wings, the troubles of this world are lifted. In His sacred feathers, we are protected. Safe. Held. Accepted. Walls fall down, and hearts open wide in the refuge of His wings. 

“He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, “He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust.” Surely he will save you from the fowler’s snare and from the deadly pestilence. He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” (Psalm 91:1-4)

Regardless of your circumstances, you are not alone. Jesus is waiting for you. Surrender to Him everything that you are and everything that you are not, and rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

Run Your Race!

Hebrews 12:1 “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us.”

Throw off everything that hinders…

The heat beats down, threatening to steal the last ounce of strength that hasn’t already been taken from the previous 26 miles of the marathon. But now the end is in sight as you stumble through the tunnel, turning into the final stretch. No sweeter view exists as you enter the stadium to finish the last leg of your race.

Indescribable. 

The awaiting crowd rises to its feet at the sight of you. Cheers fill the packed stadium. This is the moment you have dreamt about. Glancing around the stadium in an attempt to take it all in, emotions well up within and you are taken aback at the overwhelming presence of Glory you are witnessing. 

Sprinkled in the crowd are familiar faces, but most appear unfamiliar, (though your spirit senses that you know them as well from stories you have read). Three rows up on your right-hand side, sitting near a man who you quickly surmise must be Abraham, based on the size of the clan surrounding him, you lock eyes with your great grandfather. Memories quickly flood your thoughts of the countless times he spent with you when you were a child, sharing about the goodness of God. He gives you two thumbs up as you pass by.

Although there had been many moments throughout your race when you had considered giving up, quitting altogether, a smile emerges through labored breathing, as you remember those who had come alongside you speaking words of encouragement. Sometimes one word of encouragement kept you steady in your race for miles. So much so, that you also shared words of encouragement with fellow runners, encouraging each one to stay the course.

Now, nearing the finish, you carry nothing with you, only a weary body and your faith. By the grace of God, neither scorching heat, wind, rain or hail, have been able to rob you of your faith.

Electricity fills the stadium. The crowd continues to cheer, but suddenly you are aware that they are no longer cheering for you. Every man, woman, boy and girl has shifted their gaze toward the finish line.

So you shift your gaze too. 

Nothing could have prepared you for this moment. With your own eyes, you behold Him for the first time. He is so much more than you had ever dreamed or imagined. 

Beautiful beyond description. 

As you round the last corner and dig deep for your final sprint, your eyes are “fixed on Jesus, the author and perfecter of your faith.” (Heb. 12:2). The noise of the stadium is forgotten, your legs begin to buckle beneath you.

There had been countless challenges along the way, sins you struggled with, but with one gaze into the eyes of Jesus you are reminded that “in your struggle against sin, you have not resisted to the point of shedding your blood.” (Heb. 12:4)

And now—He’s waiting for you, His beloved. Arms open wide to receive you: weary and worn. 

Nothing and no one can keep you from His embrace. 

Crossing the finish line, you fall into the arms of Jesus. Lost in His embrace, He whispers your name and you hear the words you have spent a lifetime longing to hear, "Well done, good and faithful servant." — and once again the stadium erupts with eternal praises to the King.

Stay the course…

Sheila

Today’s Prayer: “Father, How humbled I am that You have qualified me to run this race for You. There is nothing I have done to deserve so great a privilege. Thank you for the cloud of witnesses who have gone before me. Their faith and perseverance have given me courage at times when I had no courage of my own. In moments when I feel weak and weary, help me to remember the race that you ran with joy. Because you ran Your race in total obedience to Your Father, I am now qualified to do the same. I will stay the course, Father. Help me to encourage those who you put alongside me with words of life and hope.”

Do I Love Being A Mom?

(I wrote this blog in 2010 after our first daughter left for college. I still believe every word written. Mostly the part about missing the short number of years our children spend with us under our roofs before they leave home. A great truth in life is that there is no calling nobler than that of "Mother.") 



Do I love being a mom, let me ponder for a moment.

First, there were the pregnancies, which included heartburn, sleepless nights, permanent stretch marks on my stomach that resemble a road map to nowhere, not to mention varicose veins.

Labor was unforgettable. I would have never believed the miracle of life could enter the world through such pain. Yet, with each birth, the memories of the pain faded (though are not entirely forgotten), as a new life entered the world.

Do I love being a mom? Well, since I became a mother, I have had to give up some things that I took for granted before childbirth, such as jumping jacks and sleep.

I eventually learned how to survive on little sleep, how to comfort a baby all night to ease the pain of an ear infection, how to love beyond limits I thought were possible, how to cook with one hand, and how to endure as I held down a full-time job.

I’ve seen the inside of every public bathroom within a 100-mile radius. I learned how to feed a child who couldn’t feed herself, even when I was so hungry myself that I thought I might pass out.

I have bought tutu’s, soccer shoes, softball gloves, swimming goggles, karate belts, running shoes, and more homecoming and prom dresses than you can shake a stick at.

I’ve spent countless hours at recitals, plays, softball games, soccer games, concerts, and--Lord help me if I have to go to the pumpkin patch one more time, I’m not sure I will survive it.

We have weathered colds, fevers, viruses and all the strange things that happen in the middle of the night. I have kissed boo-boos, fed imaginary friends, and rocked a child for so long that I thought my arm might drop off.

There have been many birthday celebrations and so many kids in our house at one time that my husband and I wondered aloud if anyone would notice should we vanish.

Our home has been the place for sleepovers and bonfires and many screaming silly girls doing all the things that screaming silly girls like to do. We have been able to share our home and our life with so many girls throughout the years, and we have fallen in love with each girl as we watched them grow into young women (who still like to be silly).

I have spent more time driving kids to and from events and sitting outside of schools waiting for kids than ought to be legal.

I have watched each one of our three daughters grow into her personality and gain confidence as her own life has taken different twists and turns. I have often wondered how our daughters can all be so alike and yet so different from one other.

I have learned that sometimes I don’t know anything at all, and sometimes I am a hero.

I have learned that my relationship with God is not a secret and that my children need to see my heart to know that God is real in my life. I have had to learn how to be vulnerable, so my children could understand that without God I am nothing. And with Him, I can do anything He asks me to do.

When children are young, it seems they will never grow up, yet when they grow up, it seems there is not enough time to instill in them all they must know before they leave the safety of the nest.

I have had days where I have failed miserably as a mother, and days when I have felt that I deserved a gold star. I have learned that memories created as a family are held differently in the heart of each child. It seems they remember the simple moments, not the moments that I tried hard to make special. They remember moments of spontaneity, yet forget the details of our planned vacations.

They love me despite my weaknesses and failures, and I love them even though their bedrooms usually look like a tornado went through them.

They have seen me without makeup, and love me no less than when I have tried to look my best. 

I have loved them through friendship troubles, and we have walked the road of heartache together as many of their friends have experienced the reality of divorced parents.

We laughed together, cried together, fought together, shared thousands of meals, and loved each other regardless of our many moods.

I had no idea what I was getting into when I entered the road marked "Motherhood." Motherhood has brought out the best in me and the worst in me, as nothing else possibly could. Some days I think I might lose my mind with the many responsibilities of being a mother, but most of the time, I wonder what I will do when they are no longer living under my roof, and laundry is no longer an event without a starting or ending point.

When we took our oldest daughter to college, I thought my heart would not survive the pain of separation.

As we drove away, I realized it was not just my mother’s heart that was breaking. I was saying goodbye to one of my best friends.

So, to answer the question, “Do I love being a mom?”

Nothing else that I have put my hand to has come close to the joy of being a mother. My children are my very heart.

I always believed that as a mother, it was my job to develop my children’s character. Now, however, after many years spent being a mother, I understand that it is God who develops our children’s character-- and then uses our children to build our character.

Yes, I love being a mom. 

Stay the Course...

Sheila

Do You Trust Me?

Proverbs 3:5&6 (NIV) “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.”

“Do you trust Me?” He asked,

As her heart started quaking.

Her breathing was rapid,

Her body was shaking.

A sea of people surrounded her on every side,

As far as the eye could see, both deep and wide.

They were all running a race; some were fast some were slow,

There were familiar faces, but most she did not know.

“Where are we going, how long is this race?”

“Do you trust Me?” He asked as He lifted her face.

“Don’t look to the left; don’t look to the right,

Keep your eyes on Me; I will be your sight.

I will give you your strength when you lose your stride,

Stay close to me as you leave behind Pride.

Pride requires strength that will cause you to stumble,

If Pride has his way, in time you will crumble.

What you need, I will give you, though in My time—not yours

Your mind cannot fathom what I have in store.

Do not run this race thinking that you know what is best,

I have mapped out your course in ways you could never guess.

When you feel overwhelmed, and the course is uphill,

When you question and doubt if you are still in My will,

When the storms won’t stop raging, and the winds blow full gust,

Believing Me is no longer an option-- it is a must.

When the race is not over, but your body is weak,

When you can’t lift your head and have no words to speak,

When disappointment and failure stay pace with your stride,

And sadness and apathy beg to abide…

Keep moving and remember that things are not what they appear,

When you cry out to Me, I won’t turn a deaf ear.

When doubt clouds your view and I feel far away,

I will come close to you as you draw near and pray.

When you walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death,

The darkness will not swallow you; I will give you your breath.

There will be freedom and lightness in place of defeat,

As you learn to praise My name with every heartbeat.

With joy in your heart and praise on your tongue,

You will reach mountaintop peaks as you continue to run.

So stay strong, My child, do not be afraid,

For it is in My likeness that you are made.

I will keep you, uphold you; your foot won’t strike a stone,

You are marked – you are My own.

When your race is finished and at last you are home,

You will say with confidence, “I was never alone!”

But for now, I must ask, as I asked you before,

Do you trust Me, My child, I dearly implore.

Though sweaty and dusty and still out of breath,

Unable to fathom the length and the depth,

Weeping and weary, though loved nonetheless,

She lifted her face and to her Maker did profess:

“I will trust You, Lord; my life is blessed,

I will trust You in life; I will trust You in death.

I will run this race; I will give it my all,

I won’t shrink back or hide, I will run strong and tall.

You have called me Your child; You’ve set my course, written my story,

I will run for You, my King, to bring You pleasure and glory.

Thank You for saving me, thank You for grace,

For never leaving me; for setting my pace.

I won’t look back, to the left or the right,

I will run this race; I will fight the good fight.

To You, oh Lord, I lift my soul;

In You I trust, oh my God, I give You control.

I trust You, oh God, trust Your unfailing love,

You are King of the earth and the heavens above.

I trust You, oh Lord, my Strength and my Rock,

I will run till you come for me, only then will I stop.

Please grow my faith; it is all I possess,

I trust You, Lord, whatever You ask, I say ‘Yes.’”

Stay the course…

Sheila

Jericho's Walls

(If you have ever been a part of a church that subtly steered away from true north and you have been wounded and/or left to question everything you once believed to be true regarding your faith, this one's for you. I wrote this 4 years ago for myself when a church I had once considered as family crumbled under the weight of sin. Although there are still times that I struggle within the body of Christ, God continues to bring healing, hope and redemption.  Don't give up on the family of God--step inside the doors of a healthy church, full of ragamuffins like myself, who are determined to stay the course together in service and devotion to Him.) 

Sometimes at church, during worship, I close my eyes and I forget where I am at. At that moment, my mind takes me back to THAT place; the place where I once belonged.  

In these moments, silence and stillness surround me.  Though my eyes are closed, the weight of my memories and emotions permeate to the center of my soul.

In that place where I once belonged, my mouth sings songs of worship to God from a heart that feels alive and loved, in that place called church.

I stand with one foot slightly in front of the other as I balance my weight on the angled floor of what had once-upon-a-time been a movie theater.  The seats are an awful color, the carpet an even more horrendous color. Yet, somehow, I am at peace within the walls of an old downtown theatre in need of significant repair—my church.

In that place, the sound of worship is deafening, so loud in fact that I cannot hear my own voice. However, in my current state of closed-eye reminiscing there is nothing but silence. I stand in total stillness breathing in the sweet aroma of corporate worship.

I open my eyes and find myself propelled to the future, or what is now called the present—thousands of miles away from my tattered theatre chair—a place known as HERE— my new church. Glancing around at unfamiliar faces, I feel anonymous and unseen. My heart feels trapped somewhere between THERE and HERE.

I close my eyes again in an attempt to go back to my theatre-chair church.  However, this time I feel the floor quaking beneath my feet as the walls of Jericho, the downtown theater church, begin to crumble.  

The throne near the pulpit is struck with lightning as God declares His jealousy for a people who have placed a man on His sacred throne.  I hit the floor at the weight of His anger, my dirty hands tremble at the rumbling thunder of His voice.

I quickly open my eyes again to HERE, but my heart beats rapidly within at the horror happening THERE, in real time, at my theatre church. The pit in my stomach serves to remind me that this is not a dream, it is a reality.  

An earthquake shakes the building. Debris and chaos fill the old theatre church. Shaking, violent shaking and more shaking accompanied with clouds of smoke, loud screams, weeping, and finally darkness and eerie silence.

Adjusting my eyes to the darkness, the scene is comparable to a war zone: wounded attempt to help wounded while the majority of churchgoers are frozen in shock at the sight of it all.  I cover my face with shaking hands, but my heart remains smack dab in the middle of the fallen walls of Jericho.

As time moves forward, the body of believers within the fallen walls of the old theatre church attempt to understand the present state of affairs. Battle lines are unwittingly drawn, brother against brother.  Birthed from a crippling fear, a war amongst believers ensues. Feelings of ambivalence are in full swing as new believers, and seasoned saints alike find the essence of their faith shaken to the core.

My heart breaks as I watch from HERE. I can’t help but feel the pain and confusion and hurt of each wounded believer.  From my viewpoint, I can only watch and pray and hope that God will heal the church, my church.  I secretly wonder if my own heart might also find healing somewhere between THERE and HERE.

Years before Jericho’s walls came tumbling down, I was a loyal member of the old theatre church. And before Jericho’s walls came down, I still fought in the trenches for truth—me and a small army of rejected fellow soldiers. We wept, prayed and waited. Both in love and in anger; if such a thing is possible.

Secrets are exposed, lies are revealed; the sin of my own heart not exempt from the messy scene of a church that has forgotten her First Love.  

Even from HERE I pray for THERE; the place I once belonged, the place I pray can recover from the devastation of sin.  I pray that rebirth will coincide with the rebuilding of the church, as well as a recommitment to keep God on His throne. I pray that the church will remember the God who is Jealous and will return to her First Love.

I open my eyes, and I am HERE at my present church. Worship has ended.  I quietly resign to my anonymous seat as the pastor prepares to give his sermon.

No one can see the weight of grief and sadness I am holding; scars and wounds inflicted within from the battles I have fought. I am wary of the longevity of the war.  My life has been forever changed in the process of a bloody struggle against the rulers and authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.

My faith is frayed, my countenance weathered. Still, God remains my faithful friend through it all.  My Protector and Defender. I secretly plead with Him to not abandon me.

I am no longer THERE, I am HERE. 

The chain of inward disabilities which have held me captive loosen their grip on my heart as the voice of the Warrior Spirit within whispers hope from the ashes of a broken spirit. 

I trust that in time broken spirits can be renewed and trust regained. 

But mostly I pray for my heart to be set free from THERE so that I may live fully HERE—instead of trapped somewhere between THERE and HERE.

Stay the Course…

Sheila

How Can I Keep From Singing Your Praise?

Recently I read a book that positively changed the way I look at my life, other’s lives, and the lives of people across the globe. Oddly enough, the book was about the persecuted church.*

I don’t pretend to have any experience regarding being persecuted for my faith; but what I am learning about those who face persecution is changing how I live my life.

Persecuted brother’s and sister’s in various parts of the world share a mind-boggling commonality: in the midst of persecution, many sing songs of praise and worship to their Lord and Savior. This one commonality often differentiates those who survive being tortured and imprisoned over those who do not survive the same treatment.

Singing songs of praise and worship to God isn’t an idea learned from a book or a person—audibly worshipping God in the midst of the most perilous of situations wells up from a Spirit that understands how to break the power and the lies of Satan. Knowing that He who is within is greater than he who is in the world, makes each persecuted believer, though still behind bars, a slave to no man. “He leads forth the prisoners with singing…” (Psalm 68:6b)

In God’s Word we readily find examples of our brother’s and sister’s who share the same testimony. The zeal and commitment to live a life fully surrendered to Jesus is ALWAYS front and center. Nothing and no one has the power to control or shut down a life fully surrendered to Christ. Even when persecuted to the point of death, the believer who refuses to denounce Christ, dies a free man or woman and wins the ultimate prize: eternity with Jesus. 

The purpose of persecution is an attempt to halt the spreading of the Gospel; thus preventing entire generations from hearing about Jesus. When parents respond to persecution in fear instead of in faith and denounce Christ, their children are less likely to live for Christ. The antithesis for this problem is found in Psalm 89:1, “I will sing of the Lord’s great love forever; with my mouth I will make your faithfulness known through all generations.”

God’s faithfulness is greater than our fears. Our children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren need to witness a boldness that does not shrink back regardless of our circumstances. Instead of playing it safe, we are left with a choice to continue singing His praise, or not. Just as running a race well is not determined after the start gun goes off but during the training season—our mindset to be witnesses for Christ must be determined now, before we are faced with a perilous situation.

Apostle Paul is a great example of a man who ran the race well. Even in prison, Paul understood the power of praise, “About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them.” (Acts 16:25) 

When a persecuted believer, full of the Spirit, and full of the Word of God, is thrown into prison, they land smack-dab in the middle of what we might call “prison ministry.” The Spirit cannot be quenched. Prayers and songs of praise flow from the heart, which in turn are heard by other prisoners. Many prisoners still come to Christ today through the witness of bold, sold-out persecuted believers. 

I don’t know about you, but this really motivates me to spend more time in God’s presence and to memorize His Word like never before. 

Instead of fearing death and clinging to life, I want to know Christ in such a way that I can live my life with the shared mindset of Paul, “For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain.” (Phil. 1:21)

“May your priests be clothed with righteousness; may your saints sing for joy.” Psalm 132:9

Stay the Course…

Sheila

*Book: “The Insanity of God: A True Story of Faith Resurrected” by Nik Ripken