Mercy!

Kids play a game called Mercy.

One kid inflicts pain on another till she cries "mercy!!" Game over. Ohhh, but to be the one who doesn't cry out. Now that's the stuff playground legends are made of! My folks never liked my sisters and me to play Mercy; they saw the thick line distinguishing childish frivolity from absurdity.

The wisdom of the years my parents possessed, knowledge of this game’s inevitable anguish, is why adults don't play Mercy. Or do we?

I’m pretty sure we do. We play games with pain. We taunt it. With one breath we claim, I can handle you! Only to find the pain is so bad we can’t catch our next breath. At any time we could say the word and be free from pain's abusive clutch. Why then do we cry "more!" rather than "mercy!"?

Because the pain morphs into its own sedative, luring us into a false familiar. It becomes part of our identity. We fool ourselves: enduring this pain makes me legendary with others, right? They admire my tenacity and strength to withstand. Anyhow, it’s my lot in life, so I may as well own it.

No; that's deception. It's settling "into a false belief that says, 'So this is it. This is the life Jesus spoke about'" (Stephen Smith, The Lazarus Life). This notion sustains pain and gives it a voice. Pain touts, “God can't won't doesn't fill that hole like I do. Stay….we’re good together. All you’ve suffered will be forgotten by others if you heal. I am safer than healing. Stay in our bed of tears.”

Seasons set aside to mourn are good and natural. They are….Ecclesiastes 3. But they’re just that: seasons. Not lifetimes. Letting go of the familiar pain can be scary. But we don’t go it alone. “Ultimately it is not up to us to 'self-help' our way out of the darkness. God is the one who delivers. Fear does not emanate from God. It comes from a trembling heart, a shaking soul. Fear is birthed in darkened tombs where we imagine the worst. It is then nourished in secrets, lies and half-truths" (Smith).

Y’all, I don’t want to stay in that shaking, dark, fake tomb. Do you? David said in 1 Chronicles 21, "I will not give to the Lord that which costs me nothing." The price tag of crying mercy is high: comfort, familiarity, self pity, pride...

So much more is given in return though: peace, comfort, joy. As a little girl, I would run to my parents when the game of pain hurt too much. And just like them, our Papa is waiting with healing in His hands. Rest assured, crying mercy isn’t equivalent to ripping off a band-aid. Healing is a process and He’s a gentle healer. The first step is simply to cry “mercy!”

I've had enough of this game...how about you?

Mercy!

He will deliver us. ~2 Corinthians 1:9

94.1 FM

As a Word Nerd I've wanted to study "Be still and know I am God" (Psalm 46) in the original Hebrew for a few months now. Especially the "Be still" part. I just really felt that the Lord wanted me to know what it meant. Plus, my gut told me it would be rich.

Driving home from coffee with a friend last week, I was flipping through radio stations, when a Scottish accent arrested me. {I'm a softy for accents!}

Lo and behold! What do I hear? "'Be still and know that I am God' Do you know what 'Be still' means in the original Hebrew? It means "Let go."

I am not making this up! That guy on the radio said those words verbatim. And then it hit me that the Lord must really have wanted me to hear this sweet invitation and lesson.

Let go.

So what do you say? Do you want accept His invitation and let go with me?

Let's let go and know. Let's let go and know that I. Am. God.

Jesus said...before Abraham was, I am. ~John 8:58



*10,000 Angels, Sandra McCracken. Much as I {heart} CC, I highly suggest taking a listen to Sandra's version of this song. I couldn't find it on youtube but it's Be.Yew.Tee.Full.

Failure is not an Option

What do you dream of doing? What would you do if you knew you could not fail? Let's talk!


"I was 32 when I started cooking; up until then, I just ate." ~Julia Child

Sojourner

Art by: Laura Amstutz, Creative Spillage {www.CreativeSpillage.com}

This sweet and beautiful artwork by my so very talented and gorgeous friend Laura snagged my heart when I first saw it. As I viewed the whole series, the snag pulled and unraveled. I followed the string back to where it was caught.

There I saw the faith and grace of Naomi and the blend of her hope and fear; trust and doubt. Seriously, I could end there. 'Nough said. Laura's art is beautiful beyond words. And speaks for itself.

I wish I had as beautiful words; but I only have ordinary words to describe the extraordinary woman Naomi was. Despite that, I want to share just a little about Naomi and let Laura's art speak to you too. Moreso, let the Lord speak to you through these tender, lovely pictures.



so·journ –verb (used without object)
1.to stay for a time in a place; live temporarily

If I were to title Naomi's story, I would call it "Sojourner." Hers is a story of sojourns of sadness and grief; hope and joy.

And like the mama in these captivating works of art, she stayed under the shelter of the Most High, acknowledging Him in all her ways. Sharing Him with her daughters-in-law; inviting them to take shelter in Him too.



Her faithfulness to rest under His shelter amazes me. Yet I often wonder how different Naomi's journey to her homeland would have been had she fully realized the way God sheltered her in her sojourn of grief. I imagine her stay there would have been shortened. What if she knew how He had gone before her to prepare Ruth and Boaz, Obed, Jesse, David, Mary and Joseph...Jesus?



I wonder too, how different my journey would be if I fully realized the ways God shelters me? And how ultimately my journey leads to Jesus as well. I imagine I would stay under His shelter more, rather than letting go and running elsewhere for covering. I would sojourn less often in valleys of sadness and grief and put more permanent roots in the land of hope and joy.



How do you see God sheltering you and leading you to Himself? What sojourn are you in right now?



How do you see God calling you to help shelter widows and orphans like Naomi and Ruth? Laura describes her inspiration for this series: "So I've been overwhelmed lately with concern for widows. Particularly those in Middle Eastern or South Asian countries. I watched a documentary and one woman, Zainab Wahidi, described loosing her husband as loosing her shade. That she now has to provide this shade, this cover, for herself and her children." Please prayerfully consider offering shade to a child through Compassion International. You will change a whole family's life! {http://www.compassion.com/sponsor_a_child/default.htm?referer=101726}


*Please visit Laura's Creative Spillage gallery! {www.creativespillage.com}

Ashes, Ashes, We All Fall Down

*Matthew Perryman Jones, Feels Like Letting Go


..to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes." ~Isaiah 61

This last year has been hard. Heart-stompin' hard. Unruly really.

An exciting life-changing expectation I nurtured for years went up in flames. It burned me bad. Hope. Faith. Daring. Belief. Happiness. They were consumed in the blazes with me. We smoldered, then fell down in a heap of cold ashes, surrounded by why's and how come's.

The expectation I waited on was not a passing flight of fancy. It was solid and sure. A promise I earnestly believed was from the Lord. Believing it would happen…staying the course…was fierce and exhausting, exhilarating and thrilling. Then, in a flash, years of intense hope, excruciating faith, and dogged tenacity disintegrated to lumps of coal. My heart was done. My soul crushed. The ashes seemed a proper place to fall as I took account of the damage done.

Watching my expectation waft away, a keen awareness the ash heap isn't where I'm meant to be flooded me. But I haven’t mustered the umph to get up quite yet, despite the great encouragement I’ve had. The Lord has unwaveringly kneeled in the soot next to me this past year, promising me "This isn't the end. Get up. It's time to leave this heap. If you give Me the ashes, I'll do something with them. Something beautiful."

Just the other day, He reminded me again. In the midst of 18,000 others at a concert.

It was barely noticeable on the outer edge of her right foot, propped up in my line of sight. Permanently scripted in a swirly feminine font. Contrasting with the black masculine tattoo ink....

Beauty for ashes

I can't deny that tattoo was a spring breeze to my scorched soul. And I heard Him say again, "If you give Me the ashes, I'll do something with them. Something beautiful."

It's tempting to tie this up with a pretty bow and a big, "Woo-hoo! I saw that tattoo and now I'm getting out of the ashes!" But I won’t. Cause I want to be real, and real is the fact that I can't see redeeming qualities from the years spent waiting and trusting. Or how any beauty can come from such disappointment and confusion.

But real is also my commitment I made to keeping this blog as a way to share testimonies of God's goodness. Even if it's from the viewpoint of the ash heap. And what I see is a faithful God. One who stands by me. One who redeems - all things. One who trades beauty for ashes. One worthy of my trust. And I'm trusting that that knowledge is the spark I need to light a new fire...

How about you? Can you relate?

"The fundamental fact of existence is that this trust in God, this faith, is the firm foundation under everything that makes life worth living. It's our handle on what we can't see." ~Hebrews 11

Nothing's Wrong Part 2

If my last post was "She Said," this post is "He Said." Below, Brad shares his thoughts and recounts our conversation that inspired my last blog. However, this video is so much more than that. If you're a girl/guy, single/married, younger/older...there is rock solid, life-giving truth that breathed fresh hope and faith into my soul. Hope it does the same for you friend! I'd love to hear your thoughts! With love~Sam

Click here to watch: you are worthy

Nothing's Wrong

If you're joining me today from She Seeks...welcome!! Below is the post I wrote after the Lord seriously moved on my behalf to speak much needed truth. I'll be honest, it's still hard for me to maintain and believe at times, but I'm trying!

Thanks for hanging with us today...and please check back to the She Seeks sight for more encouragement on this topic throughout the week @ http://sheseeks.org.

Much love, Sam

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Hi, my name is Samantha. [Everyone in unison, now...."Hi Samantha."]

I’m 32, single and have no kids [SWNK].

Typical responses tend to be: “Why aren’t you married? You’re too sweet! You’re so pretty. But you’re so good with kids!”

{Permission to roll your eyes, granted.}

My inward response, accompanying the clinching of my jaw through a forced smile is something like, “Don’t you think if I knew what the problem was, I’d fix it?” My hunch is that if you are over 18 and SWNK you not only relate to these feelings but have experienced these seemingly condescending verbal “pat-on-the-backs,” too.

Perhaps the grace has worn off, my hope has run out and disappointment has rendered me jaded. But the married well-meaners attempting to make me feel normal for being SWNK has become downright hurtful. Years of these comments have dragged me down and dampened what faith I do have. Not only that, but it turns me off from wanting to engage in any conversation about marriage or my desire for it. Including conversations with the Lord.

Honestly, I will do just about anything to avoid talking about how I dream of marriage. And not just the fairy tale part, because I’m a realist. I’ve dated. I’ll leave the rainbow connection to the dreamers, lovers and Kermit. Bring on the nitty-gritty, can’t-stand-your-face much less the-way-you-breathe stuff. Because on the flip side of that is the nitty-gritty, can’t-stand-life-without-you stuff.

All but 3.5 of my friends are married, so ask me anything about marriage and I’ll probably know the answer. Now don’t get me wrong — I really do love hearing stories, but I long to be able to share my marriage stories in return. So I compare myself with those who are married. What do they have that I don’t? Why them and not me? What have I done that exempts me from marriage? Why aren’t I married? Why?

Just recently God took extreme measures to speak to me about my marriage doubts, fear, hopes and dreams for a family. He literally had to take me around the world, to the country of El Salvador, to present me with some truth He’d been trying to tell me for years, but I wouldn’t listen.

At the end of the week on the way to the airport, out of the blue my friend, Brad, started talking with me about marriage. My guard went up. I didn’t want to defend the “why” questions. But this conversation was different. It was as if the Lord gave Brad x-ray vision into the deep recesses of my heart.

“It haunts you, doesn’t it? It keeps you up at night. Wondering why. ‘Why aren’t I married? What’s wrong with me?’ I know, because it once haunted me, too.”

I wanted to deflect this conversation, and the hurt built up from the years of unanswered “whys.” Yes, my thoughts haunt me. But then God used five little words to wash them and the pain and doubts away.

“There’s nothing wrong with you.”

At that moment, “trapped” in a conversation I didn’t ask for on a bus halfway across the globe, all the “whys” were left voiceless from one simple voice of truth…His truth. Years of frustrated heartache and wondering sleepless nights were washed away.

That is the same message I share today, with you. Girl, there is nothing wrong with you. You are okay. Better than okay, just as you are. You don’t have to be funnier, cuter, quieter, trendier, spiritualer. Rather than defending yourself from other people’s whys and your own personal questions, I encourage you to let those five words fight for you as they did for me. If for no other reason, because they are true. There is nothing wrong with you.

Song of Solomon 4:7, “There is no flaw in you.” (NIV)