My thoughts on Covid + 5 ways to cultivate the health of my heart
“I will just be happy to talk about something other than Covid!”
Ha. That was my friend’s text responding about our upcoming book-discussion group. Oh man, seriously. Hands down, this has been the hardest ministry season of our lives. A couple days ago in my morning Bible reading I read an interesting Proverb:
“A man’s spirit will endure sickness, but a crushed spirit who can bear?”
(Prov. 18:14)
That pretty much sums it up. In the last six months, I haven’t had a single person in my life who has been crushed due to physical illness. I actually don’t know anyone who’s been sick beyond a mild cough or cold. And yet, an overwhelming number of people have and are battling crushed spirits.
Please understand this isn’t a political statement. I’m not saying that wearing a mask is crushing someone’s spirit. I’m happy to wear a mask. In fact, yesterday I forgot my mask at Papa Murphy’s so I wore a diaper on my face. We need some humor, people! We’re dying from a lack of laughter!
“A joyful heart is good medicine but a crushed spirit dries up the bones!”
(Prov. 17:22)
I’m also not saying the physical symptoms of Covid aren’t a real concern. I know they are. I am saying that the atmosphere right now seems toxic to our souls and that’s what concerns me most. That’s what has made me cry myself to sleep and sometimes want to move out to the woods (Wait, we live in the woods–well, farther out into the woods) and avoid all contact with people for the foreseeable future.
I was telling a friend the other night, everything feels happy-sad right now:
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The mindset that will make or break our mood
Is it just me, or do you find it strange how we can walk through the most difficult trial with joy, but then some trivial situation can completely throw us for a loop?
As I’ve shared, this fall we walked through another miscarriage, and an extremely busy season. It was emotionally and physically exhausting, but I experienced SO MUCH JOY. Even when experiencing the emotions of grief, I still had this constant sense of joy.
Then, we finished this 2-month sprint, and found ourselves so excited to fly away to sunny Arizona and enjoy a week of relaxation and play together as a family.
Our flight went well, Justice was a champ, and we were so grateful for the kindness of a dear friend who took us to the airport (at 4am!) AND generously contributed to our trip. All went well as we caught an Uber ride to our rental house (we decided not to rent a car since we can just walk everywhere in sunny Arizona). Then, as soon as we walked into the rental house, I went to change and as I made the slightest bend forward, I threw my neck and back completely out.
Within seconds of arriving, I was flat on the couch and could not move.
I won’t bore you with all the details, but suffice it to say that day included eventually walking (!) to a chiropractor, and then, while there, the mother of all monsoon rain storms struck (the chiropractor took pity on me and drove me home!), and it rained for three days straight. So much for our idea of lounging by the pool!
We still had much to be grateful for, but after a few days my joy was wearing very thin. It’s crazy how much constant pain just wears you down. I felt cold all the time, my back hurt so bad, and as the days went by this mama was beginning to get grumpy. I sent a text to a friend saying please pray for my attitude, and we decided to go for a walk during a break in the rain.
I don’t know about you, but sometimes when I’m in the middle of a funk I’m like, “Ok, Lord, but HOW do I rejoice? I know the answer is rejoice. But how?”
Usually, I think the answer involves thanksgiving, and that is very true, but as I silently prayed and walked, another subtle mindset surfaced.
You’ve shifted your mindset from being a servant to being served.
Yes. Oh my, that was exactly it. During those busy months, even though there were hard things happening, my constant mindset was that my purpose was to serve others. I was concerned with serving my children, serving the women at the events, serving others at the theater events.
Serving others was the underlying, unspoken purpose that motivated my actions.
No wonder there was joy.
But how quickly that mindset slips when we’re “on vacation”! How quickly that mindset slips when I’M tired. I’M in pain. I’M cold. Each of those things, while valid, pull our gaze inward, constantly inward. And slowly my purpose begins to slip — off of being a servant and onto expecting to be served.
And just like that, joy’s gone.
The moment I begin to see life through Self, my joy flees. I quickly grow resentful of my husband and kids. It seems that even the baby is out to demand too much of me!
What amazed me, once again, was how quickly we can slip back on that good, healthy, servant mindset, and how quickly that joy can return! On our walk, in an instant, I could mentally shift my perspective and remind myself that my call to be a servant isn’t something I can ever take a vacation from!
Jesus doesn’t call us to lay down our lives and serve others “except when you’re on vacation, then you can indulge your flesh and put yourself first.” No way! Jesus knows that the only way to find life is to lose it! It doesn’t matter if I’m on vacation or in the middle of the most demanding busy season, SERVING OTHERS IS ALWAYS THE PATH TO LIFE.
Why? Because serving others IS serving Jesus.
And serving Jesus is where life is found. Always.
This week, let’s enJOY thanksgiving by genuinely serving those around us. Let’s take joy in blessing, giving, serving those around us. I know it’s easier said than done sometimes, but let’s give it all we got! Bless you, friends. Thanks for reading.
Some surprising lessons from our recent loss
I’ve so missed sharing with you, all of you (guys, you’re welcome too)! I’ve missed writing, as that is often how God helps clarify and solidify what He’s teaching me. I have not had an hour of free time (besides morning Word/prayer times and Sunday afternoons when I nap!), since early September–no exaggeration. We have been in a season of running hard, and I don’t regret a second of it. It has been rich, fruitful, difficult, and so very good.
Seasons are just that, seasons. In two weeks, when the bulk of my speaking commitments are through and Heidi’s play is over, we’re taking off for a week as a family, to rest and play together. I’m excited for that time together, but I don’t feel desperate for it. This season has been good. That season will be good. Paul said he knew how to roll with every season and be content in it, not just when it’s over. I guess that’s part of what I’m learning too.
Many of you have traveled with us on this journey of having more children. Long story short, in 2016, after a 40-day fast, through a number of confirmations and circumstances, Jeff and I both sensed God leading us to get a vasectomy reversal and have two more children. He gave us two names: Honor and Justice. I was completely caught off guard when Honor was lost. I’d never experienced miscarriage, and God used it to bring up many thing in both Jeff and me that needed to be worked through. He gave me a new girl name: Hope.
Several months later, I was pregnant again. Thrilled. This time I carried 11 weeks before learning Our Hope is in Heaven. Physically, that miscarriage was horrendous, but afterward, I felt tremendous peace. The timing just so happened that just two days later we had a beach vacation planned with our dearest friends, and I felt enveloped in a cocoon of love, prayer, grace, not to mention amazing meals and tons of relaxation. There was grief, but it was like falling into a fluffy friendship cloud of comfort.
In Scripture, especially in the OT, we often see names having great significance, often related to the spiritual state of the parents’ hearts, or what was going on in the culture at large. I never experienced any of this sort of significance with our older children, but for whatever reason, this time around names have been very significant. Also, each miscarried child has had a name.
The day I miscarried with Hope, we had our church’s prayer meeting that night–so clearly I heard “Hallelujah.” I wrote the name across the top of my journal page, then jotting down “Halle” (rhymes with Sally) for short.
I loved that name, and was so excited. I thought she would be born next. A few months later I became pregnant, and two trusted friends separate shared a dream/vision that I was having a boy. And I was:
Justice.
Our amazing, chubby bundle of smiles, Justice has forever changed our lives. His late arrival and delivery brought its own series of lessons (Wasted work; Joy; Psalm 131, Preparations; Delivery). We can’t imagine our lives without him.
He was worth the wait.
So you can imagine our joy when, this September, I found out I was pregnant again. Yes! I had hoped to have baby #2 before I turned 40, and this would make my delivery date just a couple weeks before that date. I started praying for little Halle, our little bean-sized baby.
I did kind of wonder what this journey would entail. Last spring, I had two friends separately share the song, “Nothing can take my Hallelujah” with me. I thought, perhaps, difficult circumstances would surround her birth. I thought the physical birth of “Praise Yahweh” would represent joy in the midst of difficulty.
My midwife scheduled an ultrasound at 7 weeks to see how everything looked. We hadn’t told the kids yet, wanting to wait until everything looked good, so I sneaked in an ultrasound while Heidi was at theater practice and Jeff was with the boys.
It showed baby measuring 5.5 weeks, with no heartbeat. My heart sank.
BUT. Both the technician and my midwife were convinced everything was fine. Often dating can be off, and everything looked good otherwise, so they figured it was slightly too early for heartbeat, so we’d “just wait” and see in a week or two.
While in the office, I thought I was fine. But as soon as I got in my car, a torrent of emotion came. I sobbed to God,
“I cannot do this again. I cannot keep having my heart torn apart.”
I begged him to please let this baby live.
Part of what was overwhelming was the fact that I had eleven speaking engagements this fall, including 5 straight weekends of traveling, giving 20+ messages, plus Heidi’s theater schedule of 3 days/week and a solid week of working backstage for dress-rehearsals plus working eight shows. I had already felt overwhelmed by how to navigate all the commitments.
And now I had to “just wait” to see if the baby inside me was dead or alive? We hadn’t shared about the pregnancy. Our kids didn’t know, families didn’t know. It felt strangely lonely to just keep going along as usual, not knowing whether I carried life or death. That evening, after my ultrasound, a friend and I were hosting a baby shower. It was the last thing I wanted to do, honestly. I was exhausted from crying and my flesh so wanted to just be home and be sad all by myself. But so clearly I knew God was saying, Set yourself aside for the sake of serving others.
But it’s so HARD to set ourselves aside. It takes dying! And there’s nothing more clear in Scripture:
“In humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others.”
Phil. 2:3-4
Every Christlike act of love takes the willingness to set ourselves aside for the sake of serving others. This is the very essence of what Jesus did, and that He calls us to do.
It takes humbling ourselves to prioritize others’ needs above our feelings. Philippians 2:5-8 says this is exactly what Jesus did.
The next weekend, I was flying to Colorado to speak at a conference. I was nervous about flying, but once again, knew God’s will was clear: Trust Me. It would take me trusting Him with my body, my heart, my emotions. I was still very sick with morning sickness, so it was a tiring trip, but the ladies were amazing and I could SEE God be strong as I felt so weak. It felt good to focus on others and get the joy of seeing God move.
On my flight home, as I sat exhausted with my hand resting on my belly, praying, I heard the young guy next to me telling the person next to him how grateful he was that his girlfriend was able to get an abortion for $75 instead of $400.
Tears silently slipped down my cheek. For him. For this broken world. For all that’s just so wrong. For the babies unwanted and the babies so desperately wanted and the incongruity of it all and knowing this is only a drop in the ocean of sorrow that is a reality in our world. And knowing the Father can and will sort it all out but the meantime…
We groan inwardly as we wait eagerly…
Rom. 8:21-23
And I whispered into the darkness, “Sort it out, God. Please. Sort it out.”
{Time to get back to my kiddos; I’ll write more soon}
Pray without quarreling
Dutch is neck deep in Frank Peretti. He discovered a stack of his books in our church library, and has barely come for air in the last 8 days. It’s made for some great conversations about prayer and the spiritual realm. It got me thinking about a few things this weekend.
It also came on the heels of a recent study we did on prayer, for our women’s Bibles study. It was fascinating and inspiring, and we spend quite a bit of time on 1 Timothy 2. You are probably familiar with this bit:
First of all, then, I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people, for kings and all who are in high positions, that we may lead a peaceful and quiet life, godly and dignified in every way.
v. 1-2
Yes! So good. Especially for our day and age, this is an excellent passage to meditate on and keep front and center.
But there’s a bit more that’s also applicable.
A few verses later Paul writes:
I desire then that in every place the men should pray, lifting holy hands without anger or quarreling.
v. 8
When talking about prayer, why would Paul toss in a bit about anger and quarreling?
Let’s just say, hypothetically, that one Christian leader called people to pray for something, according to Scripture. And then another Christian leader also prayed over this, according to Scripture. And then a whole bunch of other people decided that they didn’t like how one of them prayed, or how the other one prayed, and so they take sides about which side they should really pray like. Next thing we know we aren’t actually praying at all, we’re quarreling about whose side we’re on and whose prayer is better.
In the meantime, God was actually doing something beautiful in response to both men’s prayers, and millions of others who are actually on their knees lifting up holy hands in imperfect prayer, fumbling their way through, uncertain if they’re doing it right but wanting to seek God even if they aren’t doing it perfectly.
Father, thank you for the privilege we have of relating with You in prayer, and even of impacting the course of history through prayer. It is an enormous privilege that we certainly don’t deserve, but we thank you for it. Please help us to simply pray without getting distracted, defensive, or discouraged. We love you so much. In Jesus’ name we pray. Amen.
3 Ways to better-handle criticism
Hey friends! I’m way late in sharing this, we’re in a super busy season right now, but wanted to share this from over at Simple Homeschool. It’s written from the perspective of helping our kids, but these can most certainly be applied (and should be!) to ourselves first and foremost. Hope this can be helpful!
“I need to be able to offer you constructive criticism without you getting upset about it.”
She looked at me coldly. I blinked back tears. It was the worst possible moment for her sweeping criticism. I was tired, had spent the whole day serving others (doing work she wasn’t doing!) and now I was being sat down and told I’d done it wrong. That my motives were wrong! Oy vey!
And then when I was hurt by the criticism I was criticized for being hurt by the criticism! I also had the sinking suspicion her heart toward me was not entirely one of love. She seemed to enjoy putting me in my place.
Do you hear my defensiveness, even in the way I retell the story?….
Read the rest here: https://simplehomeschool.net/criticism/
4 ways to be free from self-pity
She came up after the prayer meeting several months ago and said quietly, “It’s self-pity.”
Ah. Yes. I hadn’t thought of that term in ages, but that was it. We had been praying over a situation, and sort of at a loss for what to pray against. Something was unclear. And that was it. A subtle sin we rarely recognize, self-pity masquerades in other acceptable forms, making it difficult to rid ourselves of its poisonous influence in our lives.
After she brought it up, it was uncanny how often it came up. I could see it so clearly, hidden beneath a thin veil of discouragement, or righteous indignation, or social withdrawal. In my very next conversation with a friend, she confessed that she struggled with … self-pity. The next conversation meandered eventually to … self-pity. It was everywhere, and most of all in me.
After identifying it, I immediately pulled a book off the shelf I hadn’t read in almost 13 years. But I still remember the quote, so vividly, by John Piper:
Consider the relationship between boasting and self-pity. Both are manifestations of pride. Boasting is the response of pride to success. Self-pity is the response of pride to suffering. Boasting says, “I deserve admiration because I have achieved so much.” Self-pity says, “I deserve admiration because I have sacrificed so much.” Boasting is the voice of price in the heart of the strong. Self-pity is the voice of pride in the heart of the weak. Boasting sounds self-sufficient. Self-pity sounds self-sacrificing.
The reason self-pity does not look like pride is that it appears to be needy.
But the need arises from a wounded ego and the desire of the self-pitying is not really for others to see them as helpless, but heroes. The need self-pity feels does not come from a self of unworthiness, but from a sense of unrecognized worthiness. It is the response of un-applauded pride.
Battling Unbelief, p. 51
Ouch. I wish I could make this less convicting, but I can’t. It’s so true. As I reflected on these words for the following months, I began to see my own subtle self-pity-parties happening with alarming frequency. Often hard to see from the outside, it often takes the form of quiet sighs, negative self-talk, mentally nursing perceived injustices, refusing to make our wishes known because “it doesn’t matter what I want.”
It’s poison for your mind and heart, and especially dangerous for moms. In fact, I think self-pity it might be the occupational hazard of motherhood. And honestly, we can’t afford to take it lightly. Jon Bloom writes,
Self-pity is a dangerous, deceitful, heart-hardening sin (Hebrews 3:13). It’s a spiritual deadener, choking faith, draining hope, killing joy, smothering love, fueling anger, and robbing any desire to serve others. And it is a feeder-sin, encouraging us to comfort our poor selves with all manner of sinful indulgence like gossip, slander, gluttony, substance abuse, pornography, and binge entertainment, just to name a few. Self-pity poisons our relationships and is often an underlying cause of our “burnout.”
DesiringGod.org.
Mamas … I say this with all love: Maybe we don’t need more self-care. Maybe we need to fight for freedom from the prison of self-pity.
How? Of course there’s no magic. But I’ve found this to help:
- Name it and ditch it. In my book (link) we talk about the importance of calling it what it is so that we can be free of it. As long as we say, “I’m just struggling with the hardships and injustices done to me,” we won’t be free. If we call it what it is–my wounded pride–we can be FREE. We can confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sin and cleanse us of all unrighteousness.
- Declare war on it. Resolve immediately, unhesitatingly, and without remorse to absolutely destroy any trace of self-pity you identify in yourself, daily. Ask a trusted friend to help you identify subtle ways it might play out. Think through your day and determine when you are most likely to slip into these patterns. Be on guard and show no mercy.
- Give thanks. You cannot be grateful and sulking at the same time. A consistent habit of giving thanks, daily, will do wonders for working the self-pity out of our hearts. It’ll kill those self-pity weeds before they even crop up.
- Focus outward. Knowing that self-pity is a pride-related sin is enormously helpful, because then we can rest assured that a pursuit of humility will deal it a death-blow. How do we pursue humility? By pursuing the interest of others (Phil 2). When we get busy finding joy outside ourselves, there just isn’t time to nurse internal wounds.
How about you? How do you overcome the subtle sin of self-pity? I’d love to hear the insights God’s given you. Thanks for reading.
Freedom from the Tyrant
Just imagine: Every single day, as soon as you wake up, the Tyrant comes into your room and starts bossing you around. He insists you immediately go his way, no questions asked. All day long, you are tossed back and forth by his every-changing demands. One minute, he insists on this. The next, it’s something else. It’s exhausting, never knowing what is next, as you bow before his tyranny day after day. Others can’t expect much of you, because you are constantly busy obeying the Tyrant. In fact, everything else and everyone else have to take a back seat to the Tyrant’s ever-changing will. It’s a full-time job to say the least. Actually, it’s more like slavery.
This sounds absurd, but sadly this is the reality, one one level or another, when we believe we have to live by our emotions.
In our culture, where we’ve rejected absolute truth, oddly enough our feelings are the one non-negotiable we treat as absolutes. Paul Miller writes,
“Modern psychology immobilizes us… Emotional states are sacred. If I’m grumpy, I have a right to feel that way and to express my feelings. Everyone around me simply has to get over it. One of the worst sins, according to pop psychology, is to suppress your emotions.”
For the month of January, two dozen ladies from my church family did a fast together. We all fasted various things, including fasting from fasting (ha!). It looked different for each of us, but one constant was that we each had marching orders from God: What He wanted us to abstain from, engage in, focus on, or give ourselves to. We had an ongoing email thread throughout the month to share the things God was doing and showing us. It was SO COOL because everyone had different experiences, but there were some common threads throughout.
At the risk of sounding dramatic, in some ways I feel like I “got saved” all over again. There were some significant shifts in my understanding of the gospel that have creoriented my perspective. I’m still unpacking it all, but I hope to share bits and pieces here as I’m able.
But one of them was this: You don’t have to obey your emotions. They are legitimate. But they aren’t absolute. They are part of my fallen nature that is being redeemed by Christ.
Christ is Lord, not my feelings.
His Word is truth, not how I feel.
In just one week, God allowed me to see several different situations where I had feelings about something, only later to discover the truth, and realize that my feelings had been completely mis-informed. Similarly, day by day He keeps reminding me that I don’t have to live out of how I feel. If I’ve been up all night with a baby, and my body is tired, that’s fine, but I don’t have to therefore live out of grumpiness. I don’t have to let that fatigue define me. If I’m irritated with my family, I don’t have to sulk or sigh or give them the silent treatment or whatever.
I can tell my emotions to please be quiet because I’m going to go ahead and be like Jesus who came not to be served but to serve and give His life for the sake of others.
Do you see it? Jesus! Jesus is our example, not this world that tells you to look out for yourself and “be true to yourself” by indulging in every emotion that comes your way. That’s just slavery. It’s bondage to the Tyrant of feelings, and as long as we shackle ourselves to our senses, we’ll never be free.
I can feel hurt, feel neglected, feel rejected, feel angry, feel agitated, feel forgotten, but I do not have to obey that Tyrant of feelings. I can choose Christ. I can choose love. I can choose forgiveness. I can choose to die to myself and take up my cross and love people who don’t deserve it because Christ did that for me when I most certainly did not deserve it.
Freedom, friends. Freedom.
Go, be free.
{Thanks for reading.}