Robin's Nest

Okay. It’s time to take a collective breath.

And no matter what happens today or tomorrow … just.keep.breathing.

God is Sovereign. He is in control.

We might not see it, feel it, understand it, or even believe it. But, that does not change it.

 

“The Lord is king! He is robed in majesty.
Indeed, the Lord is robed in majesty and armed with strength.
The world stands firm
    and cannot be shaken.

Your throne, O Lord, has stood from time immemorial.

You yourself are from the everlasting past. The floods have risen up, O Lord.
The floods have roared like thunder;
the floods have lifted their pounding waves.
But mightier than the violent raging of the seas,
    mightier than the breakers on the shore—
    the Lord above is mightier than these!” ~ Psalm 93:1-4

 

This year we’re bombarded with a lot of firsts but this is not our first rodeo. As a nation or as individuals.

We can do hard things. History proves it. And personally, I’ve faced tougher days. I bet you have too. But, in these difficult times, we are challenged to ask:

“Do I really believe God is ‘mightier than these’”?

When we surrender to a deeper trust in our Creator, we can handle anything. Not just handle it … we rise above and flip this stuff. When we invite the King of Kings to rule in our mind and spirit, we win.

My friends, it’s Go time.

We aren’t designed to be bystanders. We get to be a part of bringing God’s kingdom to earth. We are to represent Jesus’ obedience to the Father and his passion for people. We get to be love, joy, peace, patience, goodness, kindness, and self-control. How cool is that?

This doesn’t mean we’re fearless. We are faith-filled.

So, we smash this old idea that somehow more laws and messy politicians will fix our life and our world. We stop putting our faith in that which makes us anxious and angry. We stop letting it steal our peace and paralyze our purpose. We “live, move, and have our being” in God’s higher law of love.

It’s time to go deeper. Trust harder. Jump into this abundant life. It’s gonna be a wild ride.

“For a child is born to us, a son is given to us. The government [governing] will rest on his shoulders. And he will be called: Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” ~ Isaiah 9:6

 

 

 

Image by <a href=”https://pixabay.com/users/gdj-1086657/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1781441″>Gordon Johnson</a> from <a href=”https://pixabay.com/?utm_source=link-attribution&amp;utm_medium=referral&amp;utm_campaign=image&amp;utm_content=1781441″>Pixabay</a>

 

I grew up near the backwaters of the Mississippi River and spent countless days in my dad’s flat-bottom boat. We navigated through stump fields and watched for changes in weather.

When it rained, we’d find a cluster of trees near the shore and tie up to an exposed root or a low-hanging branch. Rain pitter-pattered on the leafy canopy above us, then dropped and rippled the water below.

Sometimes the wind stirred up choppy white-capped waves. Thunder and storm clouds, or the sky’s eerie gray-yellow glow signaled us to finish our bologna sandwiches and reel in our fishing lines. Dad opened the throttle on the Evinrude and hit the waves so we’d beat the storm home.

Wouldn’t it be nice to always know when a storm’s coming? Better yet, wouldn’t it be great if life was a quiet, lazy day on the river? But, we know that’s not how it works.

One moment it’s comfy, the next it’s bumpy. We’re plopped into uncharted waters and learn as we go.

Though we are resilient and adaptable, creating new habits is difficult and zaps our energy. It’s weird wearing masks at church. It’s a bummer not to lounge in my comfy chair at the library. And those darn arrows in the grocery stores? I’m not sure I’ll ever get those right. A friend told me when she sees the arrow pointing toward her, she turns her cart around and backs in. I love that.

So, yes, we adapt. Swim or sink.

Because all we took for granted—what was easy and comfortable—is awkward at best. And those are just the small, inconvenient changes. We often carry the world’s craziness on us too. And people. The stress makes a lot of us straight up snarky.

So, when negative thoughts stir up anxiety, frustration, or confusion, we interrupt them and tune in to our ever-present help. I call them flare prayers:  “Help me focus,” “God, be my peace,” “Sweet Jesus, give me patience.”

Wherever we’re at, whatever we’re doing. At work, the grocery store, or the kitchen sink.

This act of trust anchors us. To what is solid.

God isn’t affected by the words of stressed-out people, nor does He shift with the violent winds of culture. He is not rattled by sickness, chaos, conspiracy theories, or the hot air of shady politics.

Grieved? Yes. Shaken? No.

As the unhinged world does its thing, we grieve too. But we can’t let the noise, news, and nonsense distract us.

Because, as God’s children, we have a greater calling. And it’s more needed than ever. We are His image-bearers. His heart, hands, and voice. What a privilege it is to love and live out our divine design in these unprecedented times.

We get to be kind. We get to be radical. We get to check in on those who are staying home and listen to moms and dads facing tough decisions. We get to pause and re-think before we post or comment on Facebook. I use my backspace button a lot.

Like Jesus, we get to be the rebel with a cause. To show God’s character. Right smack in the middle of this storm, He lifts us above the waves so we can lift each other. That’s the amazing, healing power of redemptive love.

Do we wish we could open up the motor and zoom past this? Of course. We aren’t fearless.

But, we aim for faith that’s stronger than our fears.

 

🙏 God of all that is seen and unseen, remind us to trust, to stay focused, and to hear you say, “Peace. Be still.” Calm the storm in us so we won’t be tossed about. Please help us set our minds on higher things. May we stay anchored in you, so we have the mental, physical, and spiritual energy to serve with courage, creativity, and compassion ☮❤

 

🎵 Here’s a link to Ryan Stevenson’s “Eye of the Storm.” Be empowered, my friend 😎🎸

https://youtu.be/-sx8wTnnfScT.V.

“Peace comes not from the absence of trouble but from the presence of God.” ~ Alexander Maclaren

 

I woke from  a dream and heard myself whisper, “Jesus…Jesus…Jesus…”

And I hadn’t felt that much peace in months. Actually, I hadn’t felt much of anything.

That was over a year ago and it was the start of my journey out of a long, sad season.

Maybe you can relate.

And now, in these difficult days with pain and chaos and injustice, it’s hard not to worry and over-think and get pulled under.

Our brain wants to self-protect. It attacks our problems and tries to make sense of everything. But, it can’t. We want to fix, control, and explain. But we can’t. Our heart wants what is right and fair or things to go our way. We want to keep life comfy.

But, we can’t.

We weren’t designed to process all this: The challenges in our own lives along with all the global pain and information. It’s all just too too much.

So, we have to create our own quiet.

We step away from our screens and our people to make space in our day to just.be.still. To center in on God’s Presence. Where we can unload everything and fill up with peace.

We find surrender and trust. We accept what we can’t change and ask for courage to change what we can.

“Search me, God, and know my heart. Test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive [wicked, hurtful] way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting.” Psalm 139:23-24

With peace and humility, we are teachable and empowered to listen to God and to others. We walk alongside each other and remember we’re all on a learning journey.

Not long ago, I woke to sunshine and chirping birds in my safe Chicago suburb. A stark contrast to the turmoil just miles away. Had the riots stopped? Familiar fear and sadness tugged.

And I whispered a prayer:

Jesus…Jesus…Jesus…

It doesn’t make our problems disappear but it’s where we find true peace and strength to press on. Because our families still need us. And the world’s always been wonky. So, in the midst of these incredible challenges, we won’t give in or give up.

God, we are grateful. Without You, we are undone. Our mind is scattered and our peace is shattered. Calm our thoughts. Change our hearts. Change our conversations. To think different. To love different. May we listen and learn. And may our peace be contagious. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

“Come to me all who are weary and heavily burdened [by religious rituals that provide no peace],  and I will give you rest [refreshing your souls with salvation]. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me [following Me as My disciple], for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest [renewal, blessed quiet] for your souls.” ~ Matthew 11:28-29, AMP

 

 

Photo borrowed from Pixabay.com

 

Our first daughter, Ashley Nicole, was born on May 1st and was with us for only nine days. Though she’s always with me, those first couple weeks of may are an especially tender time.

We all experience loss. It’s our common and unavoidable human experience.

Grief is the strangest emotion we’ll ever encounter. Often subtle, yet strong. And so personal, yet universal.

I was a whopping twenty years old when Ashley died. It was before I rooted my life in Jesus and I was lost under multiple layers of pain. They just about killed me, mentally and spiritually.

When I stepped into this new life in Christ, I embraced it. With an “all-in” determination, I tapped into the power to free my mind and spirit.

Best decisions ever.

But grief doesn’t just go away, does it? It still shows up. Some days, we’re Super Woman punching pain in the face. Some moments, grief whispers a sweet memory and we simply smile and sigh.

But oh my friend, I hear you. Sometimes it requires us to breathe deep and make a raw choice to stay in it and above it. This takes a ton of grit and grace.

We remember and feel and sit with sadness. We don’t rush to the next thing to distract us. We let tears release what our minds can barely accept and what our bodies should not hold on to.

Because we know that unprocessed emotions literally get stuck in us. Scripture and science agree on that. They wreak havoc on our systems and create dis-ease of body, mind, and spirit. So, we choose to keep them moving up and out and forward.

Then, at some point, we get up. We wash our faces. We live. We worship. We even delight.

We get to redeem it all for good. For us. For others. For abundant Life.

Does this make you cringe? Maybe it’s too soon. Maybe this is  hitting home … hitting your heart …  deeper than ever.

Please know:  I see you and I hear you. It’s all too new and too heavy. And that’s okay because you’re right where you need to be.

We just came through the strangest of seasons. The pandemic illuminated our global grief experience. Quite personal, yet so weirdly universal. Maybe it’s weighed on loss that was already as “heavy as wet sand.” *  Maybe it feels a bit like quicksand.

And quicksand sucks. So, hang on.

Grief is a lot to process. We can’t always do it alone. It might be more than your friends and family can understand. Only God truly knows, hears, and sees you. And it may be time to talk to a counselor.

Wherever you are today, pray for wisdom and comfort. Scripture says God sings over us so ask to be awakened to the  Spirit’s calm and comforting Presence. Be wrapped in it like a big warm, snugly blanket.

For your journey, may you find Peace, Love, Grit, and Grace. ☮️❤️

*Job 6:3

 

Photo from Pixabay.com