On Fear and Freedom

I am stroking blonde strands on a tired head. She nuzzles into me in pink sheets covered with the faces of Rapunzel, Snow White, Belle and Aurora. It’s past her bedtime. She should already be asleep. But she’s flung herself across my lap. She’s sweet and quiet, and I am enjoying this moment.

My fingers run across something rough in her hair. What sticky mess is in your hair now, dear one? I pull at it. It’s stuck. Sticker? Candy?

 

I pull back the honey-gold hair curtain fully expecting to see something along the lines of a flower sticker from her Pretty Pink Doodle Purse. I am immediately jarred… I see a tick on her scalp. TICK!

A shriek escapes my throat before I can catch it. I missed the first rule of parenting under duress… keep calm so your child remains calm. My daughter caught my shriek and now she is gripped.

“What is it?” her shrill response from a face with eyes larger than the moon—panic-stricken.

I begin searching for calm, soothing words. I struggle to find them. “I need you to sit real still and don’t touch your head. It’s just a tick, baby. It startled me. It’s fine. I’ll get it.”

I call my husband who is out of town and doesn't answer. I call my mom who's not quite sure what to do. I call the advice nurse who looks up the proper removal technique and then leaves me alone to deal with the tick.

And I feel alone. Gripped. No one to do this thing I feel I can’t do on my own.

I pray. I muster courage. I grab tweezers and a plastic baggy. I take a deep breath (okay, 10 deep breaths). I grab that sucker and pull. I see the skin lift away from my daughter's skull as I tug. I keep pulling. She screams and jerks away. The tick would not let go.

I feel Helpless. Hopeless. Defeated. And Alone.

I do the only thing this girl knows to do when her husband, mom and the advice nurse can’t help. I cry. And then I pray. And then I call my mom again.

“You have to be brave, Amanda. You’re her mom. You might not like this part of your job. But you have to be brave. You can do this. You have to try again.”

My mom sings silly songs to my daughter and I try again. I pull. I muster all my strength against the anchor this foul creature has under my daughter’s skin. After the 5 seconds that feel like an hour, it releases.

It Releases. I Exhale.

My mom, my daughter, and I rejoice.

I place the tick in the plastic baggy, and with my daughter watching, I do what any homemaking momma would do to a nasty bug… I take a meat mallet to it.

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In my teen years I struggled with panic attacks. It got to the point where I had 2-3 a week. I experienced a supernatural touch from God when I was just shy of 18. I gave God my life, and He gave me freedom from anxiety.

Fast forward 10 years. I am pregnant with my son. I am in a crowded parking lot searching for a space so I can get to my 24 week check-up. I find a space about to be emptied. I wait. A car drives around me and tries to take the parking space for which I had been patiently waiting. When I attempt to assert my “dibs,” she tries to run into me. I peel away—angry, racked with panic—and hyper-ventilation immediately ensues (and then in classic pregnant woman fashion… I boo-hoo cry).

After that experience, I was fine… until I found myself in another crowded parking lot. I began to find myself more anxious than usual. I seemed to become over-wrought with worry over all the horrific things than could happen in my life or to my children. I stopped wanting to go shopping because of what the parking lot might look like. When one minor misunderstanding with a neighbor left me hyper-ventilating and gripped with fear, I realized it. I pulled back the curtain and saw the life-sucking parasite named fear anchored in me.

A tick finds its host by sensing body heat. A tick likes a furry host so it can gorge itself in privacy. Upon finding its victim, it cuts a small hole and inserts its hypestome (works just like an anchor). Its saliva produces an anticoagulant and an immune suppressor so the host’s natural healing and defense mechanisms against parasites can’t work. As it sucks blood, it simultaneously releases by-products (your digested blood) back into you, making them great disease distributors.

Fear is kind of like the tick. It looks for an unsuspecting victim. It sets itself upon us when we are too flustered to notice or care (maybe a car accident, a death, a tragic event…). It anchors down into us so that it isn’t until a similar situation comes up that we find it, and, by then, it has sunk down deep and will not easily let go. It manages to suppress our ability to heal from a distressing situation. Fear is isolating: it suppresses our Christian immune system of community. Fear will suck life and truth out of you and simultaneously release toxic ideas into you that skew the way you perceive life and God.

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I had began this post like 6 months ago, but for some reason I didn't think it was time to share it. And now, since the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting happened, I can’t shake the knowing that I must share. I sense the fear in my own life. I want to add that tragedy to the list of reasons why I want to homeschool. I hear it from my friends, the horror, the weeping, the way they didn’t want to send their own children to school the next Monday. 

It is horrific.

And I make no offering of sense where there isn’t any. 

How?! And why?! And if God is good, and this is so evil, how could He let this happen? 

I see the way this tragic event like so many before it becomes like a blood sucking tick. The way it latches on during a tragedy, changes the way we behave, the way we perceive life and God. The way we become gripped with fear when we come face to face with the reality of how fleeting and precious life is and that evil does exist in the most awful of ways. The way we grasp for control and take away our trust in God.

Guns or no guns. Prayer in schools or not. Fear remains.

And life in fear is no freedom. In fact, fear is the opposite of freedom.

I do believe that there are two kinds of fear. One whose other name is wisdom. It recognizes we live in a fallen world and that accidents happen.  Wisdom is alert and active. It teaches her children things like not getting into cars with strangers and where to find peace in the midst of chaos. Wisdom points us to the Answer. It points us to God.

 

And then there is the fear that grips and distorts and replaces freedom with worry. It worries to send her children to school, it justifies her actions by what she is afraid of, and it imprisons her from the very life God intended her to have. It whispers promises of control. And fear is controlling. It is irrational. It sees problems as bigger and more present than they are. Fear isolates. Fear doubts God.

 

It is for freedom that you have been set free.  

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And how is it that one lives free from fear??

The first step is recognizing fear and its hold on one’s life. It’s searching like I searched my daughter’s scalp for the foreign object latched to her head, like I searched my life for what was causing anxiety attacks.

The Bible says, “Perfect Love casts out all fear.” Love is the tweezers that plucks fear out. The crux of the gospel isn’t found in you figuring out how to love God, it’s in embracing just how much God loves you. That’s the hard part. It’s trusting and believing that if God loves You, He won’t withhold anything from you, that He is good even when we can’t make sense of this life. And when you begin to catch a glimpse of God’s Love, fear cannot stand. We fear when we doubt God’s love, when we think He would take something away. Hope is what gives sight to what life could be, the freedom you were meant for, that fear is no way to live. Faith is the courage that causes you to grab your tweezers and pull and to keep pulling... and if necessary to still keep on pulling till fear releases its grip. Faith, Hope, and Love. And the greatest is Love.

Ann Voskamp says:

 All fear is but the notion that God’s love ends… Fear thinks God is finite and fear believes that there is never going to be enough… In [God] blessings never end because [His] love for you never ends. (from 1000 Gifts, 161)

Really, worry is just disbelief in God. And are we not believers? Should we not trust in spite of evil and unknowns?? Is this place even our home?

And these three things will remain:

Hope that God will set things right. Hope that we could live free in a broken world. Hope that this place is not our home.

Faith, a courageous action, that obeys and trusts God and takes Him at His word… no matter what this world looks like or how you might feel. Faith that is bigger than irrational worries.

And Love. Oh, lean into His love! Love that casts out fear. For He loves you and is so good.

It is time to get out the tweezers and pluck.

Perfect love casts out all fear.

And it is for freedom that you have been set free.

 

Maybe you would like to share? How has Friday's tragedy affected you? Have you found yourself afraid?

By Grace,

Amanda 

Credits: Information about ticks was found here on the Purdue University's entomology website.

Verses Used in the order that they appear: Galatians 5:1, 1 John 4:18, and 1 Corinthians 13:13 

On Roots and Holy Ground

Photo Credit

I once heard a tale of a redwood tree.

People from all over the world would come to observe this tall giant. They would stand and look straight up into the sky trying to find the treetop. Tourists would take pictures standing next to the tree, attempting to capture the greatness of God and the smallness of man.

One day the great tree fell.

The cause of this fall wasn't from a storm, a lumberjack, or old age. The tree toppled from overexposure: too many people had walked, trampled on the ground where it's roots were.

Take off your sandals for the place where you stand is holy ground.

The tree fell from lack of space.

We all need space--sacred, holy ground.

One might think the stronger the relationship, the more it could be exposed, looked at, and withstand being trampled upon.

The more intimate the relationship, the wider the roots spread, the greater the need for space is.

Intimacy creates sacred--the need for pure and undefiled space.


This girl is craving a real and healthy relationship with God--the God that we celebrate during this season as God-become-man, Immanuel--God WITH us. I want to know Him as WITH me!

I desire a relationship with God that is unseen just as much as it is seen. I once lived thinking my relationship with God could be sustained by all that I did--by all the above ground stuff. I lived waiting for the rain of the Spirit (and, dare I even admit, the rain of affirmation) to touch my leaves. I began to whither because my roots didn't go down deep. And if I am honest, I came very close to a spiritual death.

And now... God and I are becoming intimate. I am getting to really know Him, spending time with Him, putting Him first in my life. And He is beginning to flow through everything. My roots are going down deep into living water. And when your roots are in living water, it can't help but flow through everything and change everything. Oh, it is so good friends! How I crave this for each of you!

Let your roots grow down into Him, and let your lives be built on Him. Then your faith will grow strong in the truth you were taught, and you will overflow with thankfulness. Colossians 2:7



Would you be so brave as to share: how is the health of your spiritual roots?? Maybe we can encourage one another? I am also pondering this bit of deepness: what are the boundaries you can put in place to keep your sacred ground from getting trampled and still be a disciple-maker (you know, letting people look into your life and encouraging them by how you live)?? I would love to hear your thoughts.



By Grace,

Amanda


Just a quick little note: I did want you all to know that I am finding that I need to be quiet this season and lean into my Savior-become-friend. There may not be too many posts around here this month. Do know I am here, and I keep you in my thoughts and prayers. You are always welcome leave me a note in my email box, on Twitter or on Facebook--in fact, it kinda makes my day :)

Poor (Pt. 2)

I think of Peter and John—men who had given their all to follow Christ, men who lived on the day-to-day provision of God.

As they walk by the Beautiful Gate, a lame beggar—in rags and shame—calls out for money, for something, anything to ease his suffering.

Peter says, “Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have I give unto you.”

Such as I have.

They had no money. No extra food. No extra clothes.

But they had the Spirit of the Living God dwelling in them--a well of springing water that does not run dry.

They gave what they had. And what they had was pretty amazing: God’s Healing, His Grace, His Forgiveness.

I think of myself. My such as I have? Do I give it?

I scrape to give scarves and gloves and toothbrushes and food and toys to those in need this holiday season.

I even look for excuses to not give what I barely have, and I wonder what do I really have?

Am I poor?

Do I really have grace and forgiveness and the very Spirit of the Living God and the gifts that comes with that?

Because if I did, wouldn’t that be my such as I have? Wouldn’t it be my response in this season?

I think of churches. Food giveaways, conferences, soup lines, toy drives… and I wonder in this tight economic season where churches are foreclosing… where is the such as I have? Shouldn’t the Hope of the world be in abundance? Overflowing? Shouldn’t we see miracles here?

Okay, and I am totally not saying that all that aforementioned stuff is bad. It’s good! The Bible is clear about giving to the orphan, widow, and those in need. I guess I just recognize that I barely have anything of monetary value to give, and I let that be my excuse. I don’t give the one thing I should have in abundance.

And the cry of my heart this holiday season?

I am praying a crazy prayer. I want more God. I want my such as I have to be the abundance of grace, mercy, and the power of the Holy Spirit. I want to shake off fear and anything else that might hold me back. I want to relentlessly pursue the God of the whole universe. I want to live like I really know Him. I want to see God move in such a way I can’t take an ounce of credit.

I don't want to just do good. I want to do God-changing-lives.

And the craziest part of this:

For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened. (Matt 7:8)

You didn't choose Me, but I chose you, and appointed you that you would go and bear fruit, and that your fruit would remain, so that whatever you ask of the Father in My name He may give to You. (John 15:16)

So I ask you, what is your “such as I have?” And are you willing to give it this holiday season? And if you don't have it... are you willing to ask for it? 

I'd love to hear from you. If you don't want the "whole world" to see your response, maybe send it to me in an email? Just click the link in the top right hand corner of the page, reply to your email (if you subscribe by email), or email me at conqueringhousewife{at}the-cadence{dot}com. I have been working on a series about crazy obedience... it's a little terrifying but I SO want God and to see Him move. I'd love to know if anyone is right there with me.



By Grace,

Amanda



P.S. Email subscribers: big thank you for sticking with me through a season of my RSS email not working... and then my embarrassing little blunder. Your friendship (because truly I count readers as friends) is something I am so grateful for. Thanks for being on the journey with me. xo


Scripture Reference: Acts 3:1-10

Poor (Pt 1)

“Poor people are those who only work to try to keep an expensive lifestyle, and always want more and more.”

I read this article and those words have been bouncing around my brain. 

Bouncing around in my little world where my husband toils to make ends meet and there is always more month than money. Bouncing around where I struggle with embracing the tiny budget that allows for one Christmas gift per child under that tree… where I have to be thankful for the parents that will keep my children from disappointment… where my resourcefulness grows thin for free creative gifts… where my apartment grows smaller as my children grow larger and faster… where my daughter has it in her head that she needs a Dreamlights for Christmas and reminds me daily—

Reminds me daily that we don’t have enough. 

And this idea—“Poor people are those who… always want more and more”—bounces until it collides with this: “Seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness and all these things will be added to you” (Matt 6:33).

I think of the rich young ruler who walked away from Jesus heartbroken because he couldn’t give up his stuff.

I think of Zacchaeus who upon discovering that God wanted him, loved him, was preparing a place for him in the Kingdom of Heaven, gave up everything he had to follow Christ.

I think of how I may not have much when I live in this American world of rich young rulers—of commercials and consumerism and credit cards. And yet how much do I have when there are people in Haiti, Uganda, and Togo whose monthly income is less than the price of my one Christmas gift for my daughter—and I struggle with not giving her more??

And I think maybe I am actually poor, because I seek and long for things... for more Christmas presents under the tree, for a larger house, for newer and trendier clothes.

I am poor because I think I lack.

But if I sought His Kingdom, I would not lack. For in Jesus is the well from which one drinks and never thirsts again. If I seek satisfaction in this world, I find a well in which toys are outgrown, clothes wear thin, and trends always change.

And I think, perhaps I could be rich… if I sought God. Because He promises whatever you seek, you will find.

I want to want God.

This culture screams at me, especially during the holidays, when mothers cry for lack and fight for more. When Black Friday promises deals and if you just wake up early enough, run fast enough, search hard enough, you could win the prize of more. 

God is quiet. He does not scream. He has no ad campaigns or sales. 

Yet He calls, whispers: seek Me first.

Seek Me first.

Drink Living Water.

Eat the Bread of Life.

Pick up your cross and follow me.

And it is a mystery. Foolishness, really. Upside down. The last are first, and first are last. The richest are the poorest, and the poorest are the richest. Those with the least can actually have the most. And the message of the cross is foolishness to those who are perishing but it’s the power of salvation to those who believe. 

And I wonder: this holiday season will I seek Him first? Will I lead my children to Him… to the place where I am on my knees, where I am full and content and satisfied in something no sale or bonus can provide me? 

Will I live poor or rich?

I should have the second part for you Monday. And in the meantime, can I just wish you the fullest and most joyful Thanksgiving?! 

Seriously and totally, happy day full of much thanks-giving to YOU!

By Grace,

Amanda

What I'm Into... November Edition

In this issue:

The Thanksgiving Tree
The Laptop Bag
Homemade Parfaits
The Easiest-Ever Salsa Chicken
Operation Christmas Child

The Thanksgiving Tree

Ann Voskamp put up this project for November on her blog. I thought it was beautiful, it looked easy to do, and it looked like a wonderful way to bring the act of thanksgiving into our home.

I grabbed the kids and took them on a nature hike to find sticks on the ground (and what kid doesn't want to be given the mission of finding good sticks?!).

 We put the sticks in the only large vase I had and cut out the leaves from the print out. Addy helped.

Can you tell we are just learning how to use scissors? :)

I used ribbon and glue dots to stick the leaves on.

Every night when we gather around the table, Addy picks a leaf, Michael reads it, and then one of us offers up something we are thankful for. We record it on the back of that leaf.

Precious, right?! I am so glad we did this.

Want to do it too? Go here!

The Laptop Bag

I really wanted a bag just the right size for my little netbook. So I made one. Before you go thinking I am this amazing crafter or asking me to make you one, know this: it is full of mistakes. I am learning through this whole blogging process that I am not actually all that into crafting. I suppose sometimes I just need a tangible way to deal with stress and making some kind of something just helps. This was right before I went to the Allume conference... I was nervous... So I sewed a bag. There's just something therapeutic about sewing in straight lines. Does anyone else relate?? 

Cheesin' it in front of some city art while in Harrisburg. I think the bag suits me :)

That said, somethings about it turn out pretty awesome if I do say so myself. :) I used scrap fabric: fleece leftover from this project from last year and a retro-print cotton. I used two pieces of thick ribbon that I sewed together to make it double strong. So, besides needing to buy the ginorous button that I simply had to have, the bag was FREE.

Want to know how I made it cushioned and sturdy enough for a laptop?

I hacked into an extra one of these plastic boxes... I just cut the plastic pieces to size and added a piece of craft felt to either side. 

I'd show you the inside, but let's just say it's already full of my mess stuff. I also use it as a purse. It is lined in the retro-print and fits my laptop, a composition notebook and my wallet--things this writer-girl needs to have on her person at almost all times. :)

Homemade Parfaits

(Warning this paragraph contains just a minor bit of "mom-talk") So I wanted to wean my son and finally get him sleeping through the night. He was not doing either very easily. At 15 months old, I was having trouble getting him to drop lower than 4 feedings, and he was still waking up 2 times a night. The doctor suggested trying yogurt instead of milk. Yogurt is heartier than cow's milk but still contains all the wholesome dairy nutrition a growing boy needs. I tried giving him yogurt for breakfast and yogurt before bedtime. I won't say it worked like a charm... it still took a whole lot of foot-down determination to get him to wean and sleep through the night... but it definitely helped.

I have this great annoyance with store bought yogurt. Fruit and yogurt is great, but why,why, why do they need to add extra sugar on top of the fruit?? Fruit has natural sweetness!

So, I buy a tub of plain yogurt (32 oz), add a tsp. of vanilla and a tbsp. of maple syrup to the whole tub and stir. I now have hardly sweet, vanilla yogurt. A perfect backdrop for fruit and granola!

I add some frozen strawberries slightly thawed, cut them into the yogurt with a spoon, and sprinkle a tbsp of granola on top.

Delicious. And the Jed-man LOVES it.

The Easiest-Ever Salsa Chicken.

I found this here. Easiest. Yummiest. Dinner. Ever.

Place 4-6 Chicken Breasts (Boneless and Thawed) and 1 Jar of Salsa into your Crockpot... and let the magic happen. 6-8 hours later, pull super tender chicken apart with a fork, use for tacos, burritos, taco salad... the leftovers in your saturday morning egg scramble, in quesdillas for the kids lunch the next day... whatever, however.

Easy.

By the way, I use extra mild picante sauce and my kids like it. It's not too spicy for their young taste buds. (I spoon the "good" salsa on top of my taco because I like some spicy).

This is PERFECT if you have a large amount of people coming over. Two words: TACO BAR. :)

Operation Christmas Child

What's the best way to teach your child how blessed she is and how much we have to be thankful for??

By giving to someone else in need.

We packed our first OCC shoebox this year. I let Addy pick the gender and age for the box recipient. So naturally, the box was packed for a 4 year old girl (who hopefully loves pink and princesses).

By signing up online (just click the picture), we were able to pay for the box's shipping and get a special label so we can find out what country our box ends up in.  I am looking forward to teaching her about that country during our preschool time.

Addy was super excited to drop this box off. This mom heart is feels all warmed-up knowing I am teaching my daughter how to be a giver and how to love. Now I just gotta deal with the whole "Christmas is tomarlow, Mom?" "No, Baby. That present is going really far so we had to drop it off now. Christmas is still a ways off." I have a feeling this is going to be a frequently recurring conversation for the next, oh, 40 days. :)


What are you up to? Any cool Thanksgivingish projects to share? Or super duper easy crock pot recipes? Leave 'em the comments.


By Grace,

Amanda

On Chewing Gum & Trust

I offered him a piece of gum.

It’s my intentional way of starting a conversation on a plane. I sorta stink at small talk.

I told him, “I am a firm believer in gum during take-off and landing.” He chuckled. I added, “And seriously, if you want or need more, just ask. I’d be happy to share.”

He smiled, acknowledging my offer.

We begin to share little bits of our life. He's retired with a long list of really cool hobbies like photography and brewing his own beer. I tell him how I write and have two kids and a husband I can’t wait to get home to. We talk about my husband and where his job may take him. We talk about faith and Christianity, of the problem of “putting people in boxes” and failing to really love them. He told me of his friend’s journey to find a denomination where he felt free to worship.

After a few minutes of small talk that was actually really big talk (I told you I stink at small talk), we rested. I wrote; he read. I journaled; he napped.

Two hours into the flight, we hit some turbulence and the plane ascended (or descended I am not really sure) without warning. My ears felt the change in altitude.

I looked to the seat next to me where my new friend is pulling out a familiar wrapper and taking out half a piece of gum and placing it in his mouth.

I sit stunned. He kept back half of a piece of gum from the gum I freely gave him… from which I had plenty and would have gladly given him more.

He didn’t want to ask for more. He didn’t take me at my word that I would give him more. He wanted to be in control.

{Which, by the way, I do realize I was two notches up from a perfect stranger, and, who knows, I could have been sleeping when he needed gum again. That part is really not the point.}

I wanted to tell him, you could have had more gum if you had but asked. 

2, 3, 4 pieces and you settled for two mediocre gum-chewing experiences because either you didn’t take me at my word or you didn’t want to ask?

And I wondered… do I ever do that with God?

Do I ever stop short of giving my all because I don’t want to run out—of money, of time, of strength? Do I lack because I just simply do not want to take the time to commune with God and ask for what I have need of? Do I attempt to be in control of my life rather than trusting God and His promises? Do I choose to ration the little bit I have rather than living expecting God to make good on His promises?

Do I stop short of fully living for God because I don’t really trust Him?

The verse that’s been on my heart:

“And if thou draw out thy soul to the hungry, and satisfy the afflicted soul; then shall thy light rise in obscurity, and thy darkness be as the noon day: And the Lord shall guide thee continually, and satisfy thy soul in drought, and make fat thy bones: and thou shalt be like a watered garden, and like a spring of water, whose waters fail not” (Isaiah 58:10-11).

Pour out and you will be filled.

I think of the Israelites in the wilderness and the mystery of the manna. Sweet little wafers on the ground each morning—God’s provision. Don’t go out and collect it in the morning and go hungry. Hold back too much in case God doesn’t provide it the next day and it spoils (Worms! Gross!). Don’t set back extra on Friday for the Sabbath Rest and go hungry that day. 

Trust. But not just trust. Obedience too. And I think perhaps trust and obedience go hand in hand.

Trust God with each and every gift.

Seek His Daily provision.

Draw out from myself to those in need.

Obey God’s leading.

God WILL daily provide.

What God gives, He means to be used.

And do set aside for intentional rest.

Hmmm… I am thinking on this. I want to see God continue to move through this woman like He did in Pennsylvania. I know He shook me up and I can’t go back to being the same. And I know I want to hold back even now because of fear. I see all kinds of shortcomings in myself… failing to seek His daily provision by spending time in prayer and His Word daily, failing to obey His voice, failing to pour out because I am afraid I won’t have anything left, failing to take intentional rest. I want to trust and obey.

Care to think on this with me?? I would love you to chime in with your thoughts. :)

By Grace,

Amanda
 

Because Sometimes I'm Just a Big Sissy-La-La Girl

I thought I was starting to get the rhythm of this whole walking with God, day by day. Listening for His voice.

It is not easy.

Thing is, I grow weary so fast. I am one big sissy-la-la girl when it comes to trials. And change? Yeah, I kind of hate it… especially when I have no control over it. I think it is safe to admit that right now I am in the midst of a little freak-out. Trials and Change.

I think of the Hebrews—Jesus-loving Jews. Hated by Romans. Hated by Jews. Persecuted on all sides. The book of Hebrews talks about how they were persecuted, endured great trials, and did it with rejoicing.  They went through imprisonments, living day to day for provision, mockery… but their rejoicing only lasted so long. When more trials came their way, they began to waver and complain. Hebrews 10:36 points out what they were lacking:

“For you have need of endurance.”

This is the verse that is currently staring at me—gently tapping me on the shoulder. This verse is the two hands firmly cupping my cheeks during my little freak-out looking me square in the eye and telling me to focus. Perhaps, this is terrible to admit, but I kind of want to tell my Bible to shut up. I don’t want endurance. I don’t want to suffer. Rejoice in trials?! Pass!

“For you have need of endurance.”

Do I? Do I really need it, God?

{insert deep sigh}

“For you have need of endurance, SO THAT when you have done the will of God, you may receive what was promised… BUT we are not of those who shrink back to destruction, but of those who have faith to the preserving of the soul” (Hebrews 10:36,39).

We—followers of Christ, lovers of God—We are of those who left their country for one yet unknown because God said so, who stared lions in the face because we would rather please God than a king, who built a huge boat for something strange and yet to be seen (rain), who chose to be counted with suffering people rather than enjoy the pleasures of Pharaoh’s court, who circled a city for seven days and believed walking by faith and praising God could give them the victory.

We are not of those who shrink back.

And yet, don’t we?! Shrink back?

I see the hint of a trial and I want to grab my big comforter and a hide under it. I imagine the worst. I get angry. I stop rejoicing. I stop walking by faith because there is no way I am taking another step without know where I am going. I want to solve the problem. I want to know the outcome. I lose sleep. I lose energy. I fail to trust.

I want all the pieces to the puzzle so that I can put it all together. It’s as though deep down I am thinking, Thanks God for the mess you made of my life—I got it from here, thanks. 

 Oh, Amanda!

You have need of endurance!

And doesn’t slow and steady win the race?

So, I am slowing. Doing what doesn’t come natural… I am leaning in close to God. Instead of praying up a storm things like: Do this! Do that! And now, God! I am **trying** to be still. To know that He is God--Faithful--Sovereign. I am listening. Opening my hands to the things I am clinging to, that maybe He wants me to trust Him with.

I am learning that I do not need to know it all now. God provides what I need for each day. And the next day? Well, He’ll provide for that then.

I am walking one step at a time in the direction God is leading me, even if I don’t know the outcome, and even if I don’t particularly like the uncertainty of where I am currently at. I am remembering that a soldier doesn’t change their direction until the Sergeant changes their marches orders.

It’s time to stop the emotional and reactionary freak out when I smell a trial or a change coming. It’s time to lean in close to Jesus. It’s time to learn endurance.

And, perhaps, endurance is found not so much by pressing harder when it gets tough... but by pressing into the gentle arms of One Very Tough Dude--the Savior who endured and endured and endured for us.

How do you handle trials and change? Do you need endurance? Maybe we can pray for one another?

By Grace,

Amanda