Perseverence
Sticky Note Prayers: Lessons in Perseverance
I couldn’t quite decide if it was obnoxious or darling.
My daughter just turned 11. She’s normally the hardest of my children to buy for as her tastes change frequently. This year, she had very definitive ideas about what she wanted. And she let us know:
I found a small yellow sticky note on my laptop screen one morning: “Mama, can I please have bunk beds for my birthday. It doesn’t cost money, it only costs time.” Read More
Ligaments of Love: Encouragement in the Body of Christ
She’s a feisty ball of zeal perched on top of two spindly legs.
And it’s her first year of running for a school cross-country team. My little sixth grader was so eager to join her older sister in this sport this year. Together they’ve gone to practice for a couple of weeks, but for the most part have gone their separate ways upon arrival to run with their friends.
I arrived early to collect them the other day and got to watch the final activity assigned by the coaches: a tempo run for just under a mile. In the distance, I spotted my little gal’s hot pink shorts, streaking around the course in third position. For more than half a mile, she held her own with the front-runners. Read More
Memory Upgrade: Foreheads, Hands and Doorposts
Please tell me I’m not alone. It happens to me at least daily:
I might be standing in the kitchen when I realize I need to close the window in my child’s room before the morning air wafting through the house gets too hot. Making my way around the corner, I climb the stairs. I reach the top and when I find myself at the end of the hallway, I cannot – for the life of me – remember why I’m there. The sheer number of purposeless trips I make upstairs each day could almost justify eating an entire bag of Peanut Butter M&M’s. Almost. Read More
Forerunner
I received a comment on last week’s blog post Heaven’s Anchor via email that was too good to not share with you all – as a post all of it’s own. You’ll recall the verse:
We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.
— Hebrews 6:19, 20 ESV
The commenter said: Read More
Heaven’s Anchor
Hope. There’s a word we throw around quite easily, whether it’s a casual ‘fingers crossed’ for a specific birthday gift, or the earnest belief of triumph despite tragedy. In my musing meanderings this week, I decided I needed to know what it really meant.
As I reflected on these four heart-buoying letters, my initial thoughts were that it simply conveyed confidence about future expectations. My mind’s eye conjured images skyward, ethereal and misty. When I went to the scriptures, however, I found a different picture in Hebrews: Read More
Living Water
I’ve been teaching my youngest daughter about the importance of daily time spent with God, in prayer and in His Word. I directed her attention to a devotional book and did the first one with her to set the stage.
The passage was Psalm 63:1 ESV
O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you;
my soul thirsts for you;
my flesh faints for you,
as in a dry and weary land where there is no water.
Reflecting on thirst, I found it ironic that since this child’s birth, I have struggled with being hydrated. Not due to a lack of water available to me, but due to a lack of desire for it. I was the dutiful pregnant mother, slugging back the requisite ounces for my baby’s health. I continued to consume the water through the season of nursing her. But I went into a full state of hydro-rebellion after weaning. If I didn’t have to drink it, I wasn’t gonna. And you can’t make me. [Insert foot-stomping and arm-crossing here.] Read More
Gait Analysis: Five Faith Lessons Learned from Running
For more than six years, on and off, I’ve been battling an injury to my left foot. As someone who classifies herself as a runner, this has been a major disruption to my singular choice of physical activity. I have pursued multiple interventions: rest (temporary and prolonged), chiropractic, oral and injected anti-inflammatories, boot immobilization, taping, and physical therapy. While each mitigated the effects, none corrected the problem completely.
That’s because I continue to cause the problem with my biomechanics. My stride is shorter on my right foot than on my left so, over many miles, I spend a disproportionate amount of time on the left, resulting in stress that mimics a fracture. The only long-term solution is to retrain my gait. As a human born with Adam’s sin, my relationship with God is dysfunctional apart from the sacrifice of Christ. After trusting in Him for my salvation, His Spirit begins the work of sanctification in my life: reshaping my spiritual gait. The lessons I’ve learned from running while retraining my gait had striking similarities to the process of spiritual formation.
It’s personal:
I have had multiple running comrades over the years. Some of them have near-flawless form and rarely suffer injuries. Their good form didn’t rub off on me; I had to do the work. My fellow sojourners play a role in my salvation by sharing the truth of the gospel and inspiring me to mature in my faith. But I am not saved by their words or proximity to them: I must square my accounts with God myself through Christ.
It’s painful:
My right adductor is weak, allowing my right foot to turn out. As a result my stride is shortened, which in turn has permitted my hamstring to tighten up. My efforts to keep my feet parallel are fatiguing my puny little adductor and causing intense stretching in my hamstring. Bringing my life into conformity with Christ stretches and reshapes my mind and heart. I surrender habits, thought patterns, language and maybe even suffer the loss of some friendships when I pursue God with all I am.
It’s purposeful:
I have to focus my mental energy on every step I take. When my mind wanders, my wayward right foot goes with it. I must continuously and deliberately place my plantar with every turnover. My natural gait is defective and detrimental to my health. Similarly, my sinful nature is corrupt and costs me my life in eternity apart from Christ. Though I can do nothing to earn the gift He gave, I can strive to live a redeemed life that gives Him the glory. It will require effort and a continual submission to His will and the instruction His Word offers.
It’s about progress, not perfection:
My gait will never be perfect. I am fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14), but my body suffers under the curse of a fallen world. Every degree of improvement I make to my stride will garner me more steps that aren’t as prone to injury. Though I will never attain perfection this side of heaven, I know that with every step I move closer to Christ, He is honored and more visible in me.
It requires perseverance, but is profitable:
It will take a long time to have the new gait feel natural instead of alien. My body was designed with the capacity for running, but my form must be true to the design to avoid injury. I must be dedicated in my effort: giving up would only end in further injury, robbing myself of something I was meant to enjoy. If I persevere, the result will be less pain in my foot. Likewise, I can continue to live according to my flesh and never look any different than one who doesn’t know Jesus. But He meant for me to know and experience the abundant life of a believer abiding in Him transformed by the renewing of my mind (Romans 12). What greater gain could there be?
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, 2 fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. 3 Consider him who endured such opposition from sinners, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.
— Hebrews 12:1-3
Let’s run! I’ll see you out there…
Thanks to Beholding Glory for hosting the link up!
Defiant Praise
In the span of merely a week, I have had the solemn privilege of hearing some of the hardships facing those I love: concern over being able to feed one’s family for lack of financial resources, job changes and layoffs, life-altering diagnoses, far-flung ramifications of untimely deaths, and children in the direst of circumstances—emotionally, spiritually and physically.
“In this world [we] will have trouble…” (John 16:33 ESV)
Indeed, we will have trouble. Of this we are acutely, painfully aware. Jesus’ message to us is that we will never be alone in our tribulations, and that the victory is won, even if we only see it in heaven. I do find genuine comfort in that. As I try to bear up under the challenges facing my own household, while seeking to support and bless those around me in the midst of their hardships, I get hung up on how to live vibrantly, faithfully, and fully—here and now —in the face of those struggles. Without Christian platitudes.
Three simple letters hold the key.
I was entreated by a simple three-letter word in Habakkuk’s prayer: “Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.”
Yet.
The prophet was burdened and fearful, and perplexed by God’s perceived will. But he was moved from fear to faith through praise. Undaunted, tenacious praise. His praise for God flew in the face of his circumstances. It boldly proclaimed his faith would not be shaken. Choosing to rejoice in God in the midst of his circumstances girded him to stand firmly.
“Yet I will rejoice in the Lord.” I needed that simple word this week. It urged me to do what I felt unable to do: to praise God. When I am paralyzed of praise, laboring to utter any blessing back to the Lord, I am invited to use those penned by the psalmists. Their words siphon out of me the knowledge of God’s goodness that had been previously squelched by fear and frustration, confusion and concern; they draw a boundary no fear dare cross.
No matter the circumstance: God is sovereign and good.
No matter the sin: Jesus paid the price.
No matter the need: God is powerful and able.
No matter what this life brings: Jesus has overcome the world.
The burdens are many and heavy. Yet I will rejoice in the Lord. I will offer undaunted praise, in spite of all the pain I see and feel. Will you?
Though the fig tree should not blossom,
nor fruit be on the vines,
the produce of the olive fail
and the fields yield no food,
the flock be cut off from the fold
and there be no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the LORD;
I will take joy in the God of my salvation.
GOD, the Lord, is my strength;
he makes my feet like the deer’s;
he makes me tread on my high places.
—Habakkuk 3:17-19 ESV
Recommended reading:
Hind’s Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard
Related music:
Check out Matt Redman’s “Blessed be Your Name”
Quail
There’s a cute little variety of Quail here in Idaho. Cute, but absurd. Allow me to elaborate…The variety that lives here has a little topknot that dangles overhead. They’re fairly unremarkable except for one distinct trait: they don’t fly. They’re capable, they just prefer not to fly. Though I’m certain they actually traffic in many other places, I most frequently encounter them in the road. As I approach in the car, the birds are ambling across the street. The closer I get, they shift into walking overdrive: leaning forward, jutting their little chins out, and scurrying as fast as their little feet can take them. The urgency of their crossing is palpable; cardiac arrest seems imminent. Instead of moved to compassion, I find myself mocking these avian sprinters: “You can fly, you ridiculous bird! You don’t need to run, you can fly!”
My husband theorizes the topknot keeps their eyes crossed and distracts them from all that’s going on around them. As is turns out, they’re pretty fast runners at a neat clip of 12 miles per hour.
After a recent near-squashing rant, I was rendered quiet by the similarities between me and these silly birds.
I’m just like a California Quail. They’re a ground-dwelling bird, and I’m a ground-dwelling human, until God takes me heavenward. I’m so focused on, and distracted by, the cares of my own life dangling overhead that I’m oblivious to the other beautiful gifts God is giving me and, worse, the needs of those around me. When I sense danger approaching, I, too, lean forward and simply try to run faster and harder.
A whisper in my heart: “Kirsten, you can fly. You don’t need to run; you can fly.”
“Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” –Isaiah 40:30-31 NIV
God has made me capable of flight, on wings like eagles. Yet I choose not to.
So, my little neighbors will no longer be subject to my mockery, but rather a lovely reminder of this truth: I must put my hope in the Lord.
And then, I will soar.