Quiet Love

(photo credit)

We're nearing the end of 2017--and what a year it's been. There are many parts of 2017 I'd like bury deep, deep in the soil, never to reflect on again. But there are also joyful, precious, tender moments in 2017 that I'll cherish in my heart forever. Life is crazy like that, isn't it?

The holidays can be stressful and busy. They can also be quite painful. For the woman whose husband recently walked out on her, these holidays were filled with confusion, anger, and sorrow. She's looking ahead to an uncertain future. For the husband who just found out his wife was unfaithful, he's holding his head in his hands, wondering where he went wrong. For the people who are struggling with their finances, their kids, or their health, they may be wondering, "Will this ever get better?"

When we're pondering where we are and what we're going through, our thoughts are busy, frantic, bewildered. Our minds are anything but quiet.

I loved this post, "Unchanging Reality," by James MacDonald. In it, MacDonald shares this verse:

The LORD your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing. --Zephaniah 3:17 (emphasis mine)

I strongly urge you to read the whole post. But here's a small sample:

"When you’re hurting, the worst support can be the person who rushes in with a thousand things to say, like “I know how you feel.” People say so much, yet the One who could say everything says nothing at first. No judgment. No condemnation. No questioning. No pressure for you to explain. Just there, present with you. Silent.

He will quiet Himself, and He will quiet you. He will quiet your mind that reviews, reviews, reviews. He will quiet your heart that hurts, hurts, hurts. He will quiet your mouth that might lash out in pain to hurt others.

How does He quiet you? With His love. When He breaks the silence, He will be singing over you a song. The song is about the Father’s love—His immense, unchanging, unrelenting, undeserved, all-forgiving, all-knowing, all-penetrating, all-healing love for you."

Review, review, review. Hurt, hurt, hurt. Lashing out in pain. Boy, have I done plenty of that. But now, more than ever, I'm quietly receiving love. 

No matter what someone else has told you. No matter if they left, or threatened to leave. No matter if they told you lies about your worth. And no matter how bleak your future may seem. Know this: you are loved. You don't have to earn it, all you have to do is receive it.

And let it quiet you.

Until next time...

PEAS on a Beach

My sons and I sat on the white, sandy beach of Waikiki. We'd traveled there to celebrate my 50th birthday. As we stared out at the beautiful Pacific, we talked openly and honestly about the turn our lives had taken, and how we'd untangle the future.

During the conversation, I was reminded of something I'd only recently been made aware of: my sons and I seem to have a natural tendency to encourage others. When I'm at work, or out to dinner with friends, or out shopping, it's become natural to say something nice to someone. When my sons are at school or at work, other people are drawn to their inclusive and caring dispositions. I used to view this personality trait as no big deal, but now I see it for what it is: a gift.

As wave after wave crashed against the shore, an idea was born: what if we widened our reach and helped other people? Not just our co-workers and friends, although that's wonderful. What if we created a way to help strangers? People who've lost hope and their will? What if people were experiencing trauma and chaos, and needed someone to turn to? This was something that was within our reach. It was something we were naturally equipped to do.

We'd ordered pizza on the beach, so I grabbed a Dominoes napkin and wrote:

Encouragement
Advice
Support

That crumpled napkin sat in my purse for months, kind of forgotten in all the chaos going on in our own lives. Until October, when I read something about "...one God-given idea." I'd felt it was a God-given idea right there on the beach, but I hadn't done anything with it. Now I felt compelled to do something with it.

What name could we give it? We began with E, A, and S. Not sure what to do with that, but let's marinate on it for a while. Then I attended a prayer vigil put on by my church, to support the victims and survivors of the Las Vegas shooting. That's when it hit me: add P for prayer. The most vital ingredient. I called the boys on my way home, excited. Our name would be PEAS (prayer, encouragement, advice, support).

We dove in. We created the site, and www.peashelp.com was born. We created a youtube channel. We created social media accounts. It's all still in the infancy stage, but it's out there. We're ready to help others. Our pain will not be wasted.

My hope is that you'll visit peashelp.com whenever you need prayer, encouragement, advice, or support. Simply choose a button, and you'll receive a confidential response. Also, by subscribing to our youtube channel, you'll never miss a video. And please, spread the word. You never know what other people are going through.

Until next time...

Give It a Rest

(photo credit)

I'd just experienced a rough couple of days, and was feeling a bit raw and vulnerable. I was reading through my devotionals, which is now my morning routine. 

Joyce Meyer's app, one of my favorites, had posted the following verse. If you're struggling with anything--if you're feeling tired, if your emotions are like a runaway train, if you're wondering "when will this stop??"--I encourage you to read this verse slowly. Savor every single word.

Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me--watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly. --Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message)

When I read this verse, it was like sinking into a hot bubble bath. 

Deep breath. 
Slow exhale. 
Ahh. 

"Unforced rhythms of grace" is so beautiful, isn't it?

It's moments like these when I'm reminded that it's ok that I don't have the answers. It's ok that I'm not wise enough on my own. It's ok that I make a zillion mistakes every day. It's ok. I'm learning the unforced rhythms of grace. 

Grace = unmerited favor. Grace means God fills in my gaps. He walks beside me and protects me and my sons. He comforts me through His presence, or through the presence of others. He's straightening my path.

When He says "Come to me," I must remember that He's not saying, "Come to me when you've got your act together." Or, "Come to me when you're not a jerk." Or, "Come to me when you do everything right." He wants me to come to Him, just as I am. Cracks, warts, sharp edges and all.

If you're anything like me, you try to figure everything out on your own. You try to plan for every contingency. You try to guard yourself against calamity. For decades, I paid for insurance for anything I could insure, and yet I couldn't insure against pain and heartache.

That was my way. And my way doesn't work. I'm slowly learning to do things His way.

Whatever it is you're going through, my hope and prayer is that you'll come to Him and find rest.

Until next time...

Who Encourages the Encourager?

(Photo credit: Christi Gee. Her post "Dear Encourager--3 Things We Want You to Know" is a must read! Such beautiful encouragement for encouragers)

Through this blog, I recently helped myself. Sounds strange, right? Let me explain.

I'd just experienced a very, very bad day. The day before it had been rough as well. The day before, my ex and I had exchanged cruel and heated words. I walked around in a daze, thinking, "Seriously, God? This is what I get? This is how I'm treated? You're joking, right?" The following day, some other stuff happened that left me reeling and traumatized. (Shout out to my sister who dropped everything and comforted me when I needed her the most. My family is amazing.)

Some days I'm strong and kind. Other days I'm weak and cruel. This process of changing from the inside out is not smooth. It's jagged, prickly, and painful.

Anyway, that night the boys and I were decorating our Christmas tree, knowing it would be our last time in this home. They knew what had happened that day and the day before, and we made a pact to put it behind us and have fun. We laughed, we danced, we sang Christmas carols at the top of our lungs. It's as if we were punching difficulty in the face, saying, "Take that!"

After the boxes had been put away, and after the house lights were turned off and only the lights from the tree were glowing, we eventually settled back into our nightly routines. My son sat on one couch, I sat on another. While he checked his phone, I checked my emails.

Sitting in my inbox were my own words from this blog: "After the Drought." I schedule these posts ahead of time, so I'd forgotten about it. I read through my own words, feeling encouraged and strengthened. After experiencing a rough couple of days, this post reminded me that it's temporary. It's seasonal. We won't only survive this turmoil, we'll thrive in the midst of it.

It was a fresh reminder of the roller coaster experience. Up some days, down on others. But on that night, I was thankful for this blog. I was thankful for God's gentle reminder to smile during the roller coaster ride. Yes, I may sometimes get bugs in my teeth, but isn't that better than the alternative? Riding a roller coaster with white-knuckled fear, snarling through the drops, is not a good way to live life. That is not my destiny.

Some days, we're able to encourage others. Other days, we need encouragement. On that day, I was both the encourager and the encouraged. Life is so strange and beautiful.

My hope and prayer is that this blog is helping others. I'm trusting that God is sending the right people here; the people who need it. Heck, even if you're just curious to see how a girl with a wonky situation is doing life on a crazy faith journey. Whatever your reason for reading, I thank you. 

I know one thing for sure--it's helping me.

Until next time...