faith – Sheila Dougal

A Long Repentance In The Same Direction

Eugene Peterson’s A Long Obedience In The Same Direction, is a favorite of mine. The title has served as sort of mantra for me over the years. But today, thinking and talking to God as I do my errands, it hit me that a better motto for my life may be: A long repentance in the same direction.

Every year around this time I pull out a journal I only use after Christmas and before the new year. I purchased it 17 years ago, when my marriage seemed to be over and I was pregnant with our second son. The cover of the cheap journal is now faded. The red poinsettia print is a dark pink. But the word “Faith” on the cover still holds.

Each year I’ve written prayers and confessed my weariness in those pages. When I read that journal at the end of every year, I’m actually embarrassed that I keep struggling with the same fears and desires. Desires that never seem fulfilled.

Tonight I opened my new copy of the Book of Common Prayer. I’m not Anglican. There’s not a bit of High Church in me. But I’m drawn to the structure of the BCP. Tonight’s reading from the evening prayer is all about repentance.

He heard me in the car. He knows my path. Every year I press on in the direction of Resurrection Day. And my daily progress towards that day is not so much a straight path of obedience, but a detoured, dizzying trail of turnings. Turnings away from bitterness towards tenderheartedness. Getting up and turning from head down faithlessness, towards my Father, believing He is good. No matter what.

“I’ll get up, go to my father, and say to him, “Father, I have sinned against heaven and in your sight.I’m no longer worthy to be called your son. Make me like one of your hired workers.”’ So he got up and went to his father. But while the son was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion. He ran, threw his arms around his neck, and kissed him. “
Luke 15:18-20 Christian Standard Bible

Learning to garden: A repentance from laziness

A couple weeks ago, while listening to Wendell Berry, I decided to stop waiting for the ideal situation and start planting a garden.

I’ve realized something about myself since that day. I like to do simple things. Tasks that require hands on practice. And not much research or technical skill.

Gardening seems like it should be pretty straight forward. Take a seed. Put it in the ground. And water it. But it turns out there’s more to planting a productive garden than simply pressing a seed into the earth.

There’s a need to know about the climate where the garden is planned. There’s a need to know what grows in that climate at this time of year. There’s a need to prepare the soil. And to learn what preparing the soil means.

And so, I suppose like anything one is new at, gardening requires learning new skills. And I think that’s why seriously undertaking planting a garden scares me off. I’m lazy. I don’t want to have to research what the soil is like in the “low desert” of Arizona. ( I had know idea the area I live in is called “low desert” until I started researching how to plant.) I don’t want to have to spend weeks preparing the soil.

But I don’t want to be an expert couch potato either. And so today is week 2 of my repentance from laziness.

Last week I researched and asked questions. Planted herb seeds in a little indoor greenhouse tray. Marked the 12 x 5 foot area in the earth where I decided to plant. Shoveled goat and chicken droppings and scattered them on my garden plot. Watered it daily. And didn’t plant anything.

This week, I tilled the soil. And took my neighbor’s advice (she’s an expert gardener), added more goat droppings and covered the area with wood chips from her yard. Watered. Put up a chicken wire fence around the garden. And planted nothing.

Through the week I’ll keep watering. And maybe on Saturday or Sunday I’ll plant the seeds the experts say grow well in Arizona’s low desert this time of year.

I’m tired now. My back is sore from bending and hoeing and digging and raking and squatting. I’ll sleep well I’m sure.

Laying here about to die to the day. I can’t help but think about the grace that gives us God’s work to do. Seed planting isn’t the only or even the first work. The labor is observation, learning, asking questions, listening, praying, caring, and waiting. Then the seed is planted. And then it’s God’s turn.

“I planted the seed of the teaching in you, and Apollos watered it. But God is the One who made the seed grow.”
1 Corinthians‬ ‭3:6‬ ‭ICB‬‬

3 Reasons I Got Up on Sunday

black ceramic cup with smoke above — Photo by John-Mark Smith on Pexels.com

I woke up this past Sunday feeling heavy, tired and unmotivated. And honestly, I wake up that way a lot.

On the energy scale of Eeyore to Tigger, I’m a notch or two above Eeyore. And my goal when I wake up is to just make it to the coffee pot. There, I usually catch myself spacing out, listening to the 2,000 thoughts nagging me to not forget to do this or that. When I realize I’m holding my breath, picking at the dry skin on my cuticles, I usually stop and exhale, “Have mercy on me Lord! Apart from you I can do nothing!” And I wait for some remembrance of God’s word that gives me hope.

This Sunday was like that. The 2,000 voice-secretaries reminding me of all the things drove me to plead with the Holy Spirit to remind me exactly why I get up on Sunday mornings early to go to church, sing with toddlers and hear the preaching of God’s word. This Sunday Moses came to mind.

In Deuteronomy 6, Moses reminds the people of God’s command to love him with all they are and to teach His ways to their children. And then in verse 20 through 23 it says:

“When your son asks you in time to come, ‘What is the meaning of the testimonies and the statutes and the rules that the Lord our God has commanded you?’then you shall say to your son, ‘We were Pharaoh’s slaves in Egypt. And the Lord brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand. And the Lord showed signs and wonders, great and grievous, against Egypt and against Pharaoh and all his household, before our eyes. And he brought us out from there, that he might bring us in and give us the land that he swore to give to our fathers.” -Deuteronomy 6:20-23

This is what came to mind on Sunday when I couldn’t remember why I was up.

As a mom, kids ministry leader and member of my local church, I am responsible for more than myself. I’m responsible for those looking to me for leadership and the why behind what we do. And if I don’t have the why bubbling up out of me, I’m not going to be able to lead them in the why. That’s basically what Moses told the people. He told them first they had to love the Lord their God with all their heart; they had to have all God had done had for them on their hearts before they could ever teach it to their children.

As parents and leaders and members of the body of Christ, we need to know the why behind what we do so we can cast a vision for our kids and those we serve and minister to. Moses’ instruction in this passage in Dueteronomy is a good guide for remembering the why.

First, the reason we have church services, and small groups and classes for kids, and talk about the gospel, and the way of Jesus with our kids when we sit, walk and drive is because we were once slaves. Not in Egypt like the Israelites, but to sin. I was once a slave to my appetites that lead to death. But now I’m free. That’s why I gather with the local church corporately and in small groups and teach preschoolers the name of Jesus and talk with my kids about the love of Christ on the way to school.

Second, the reason we sing, and pray, and raise our hands, and clap, and celebrate special days, and have devotions with our kids despite the multiple interruptions and inconveniences is because the Lord brought us out of slavery to sin into the freedom of the children of God by the mighty act of bearing our sin in his body on a tree; absorbing the condemnation coming our way. That’s why we worship. Because Jesus has done a scandalously gracious thing for us.

Third, the reason we make plans, live missionally, seeking to lead others to Christ is because God has shown us his faithfulness. We’ve seen him change our hearts and give us new desires. We’ve tasted of his goodness and experienced his love. That’s why we plan special outreaches, and make phone calls to meet with strangers who are becoming friends about Jesus. That’s why we make a big deal out of the resurrection and invite our friends to follow Jesus with us. Because we’ve tasted, and we’ve seen that the Lord, he is good.

And we press on through our lives, and as a church throughout history, moving forward in the race set before us, eyes fixed on Jesus, looking for the day when he makes all things new, because He promised he would never leave us or forsake us. He promised to give us all we need to do what he calls us to. He promised to return. And we believe him.

Endurance for 2019

two men running on concrete road — Photo by Rosemary Ketchum on Pexels.com

Twelve years ago I ran the PF Chang Rock n’ Roll half marathon in Phoenix. I trained for it and felt pretty good till I hit the seventh mile. Mile seven to mile 13.5 felt like my legs were made of lead and my lungs were full of fire. I yelled at myself for that last half of the race, “Just run to that pole Sheila!” And that’s how I finished. I literally ran to the next pole until it was over. And then I swore I’d never do it again.

As a Christian, I see life differently than my friends and family who don’t share my hope in Christ (yet). I see life as a marathon of faith.

Sometimes I look around and see people coasting through life, seeming to be happy, doing just fine. They don’t look tired. They don’t seem to be struggling. They seem to be at home here. At least on the surface.

If any of us, Christian or not, stopped to think about our lives, where we’re going, what our purpose is here, etc., we might not be so comfortable. But once you’ve tasted the goodness of God in Christ, a race begins that leaves no place for settling down and getting comfortable. You aren’t searching anymore for a deeper satisfaction in life, or numbing yourself to those longings with quick fixes or busy-ness. Once Christ becomes real to you, you start to long for the home and the person you were made for. You become a sojourner, an exile, a runner, running the race of faith until you cross the finish line- until you’re home.

In a few hours a new mile starts on my long race of faith. 2019 isn’t a new year to try to finally get some satisfaction in life, be a better me, live my best life, etc. 2019 is another mile in my race home. What I need is endurance.

And if you’re feeling tired like me, just look at the next pole.

Just keep running through today.

Keep your eyes on Jesus; keep feeding your soul with his word; keep meeting with his people and opening your life up to them in confession and repentance; keep pouring out your complaints and requests and fears and longings and joys to him in prayer. Keep hoping in Jesus. He is faithful. He will not let you quit. He will not abandon you. In fact he’ll make you stronger. He’ll take what’s lame in your cadence and strengthen it. He is fully committed to getting you home.

One of my favorite writings by Eugene Peterson is Long Obedience in the Same Direction. In it he uses the Songs of Ascent (Psalm 120 – 134) to meditate on discipleship and what a maturing life of faith in Christ focuses on. The ancient Hebrews sung these songs on their trips to Jerusalem. As a Christian, I’m not making my way to a physical place to worship, but I am making my way through life, ascending, growing, being transformed from one degree of glory to greater glory until I’m home. And like my forefathers in ancient Israel, it’s my longing for home, that pulls me forward with a song on my lips.

Yesterday at my church we had a pastor who preached about what’s next. Now that Christmas is over, what’s next? New year’s goals or resolutions might improve our lives, he said, but they won’t transform our lives. He said if we really believe what we just celebrated at Christmas our lives should start to, and continue to, look different. We’re in the process of being transformed.

Eugene Peterson encouraged us to examine ourselves and see if we were tourists or pilgrims. The pastor last night asked us to consider that if we believe Jesus our lives will be in the process of looking more and more like Jesus. Hebrews says we don’t need resolutions, we need endurance.

I want there to be a fresh start, a new energy, a renewing of sorts as 2019 begins. But I know that even if nothing changes in my circumstances, even if I’m still prone to lameness, weakness and wandering, Jesus is committed to getting me home. I don’t have to finish tomorrow. I just have to keep looking at him, running through today.

And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit. -2 Corinthians 3:18

…looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. -Hebrews 12:2

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ. -Philippians 1:6

A fire that burns what won’t last and strengthens what can never be destroyed

hot iron steel glow — Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

My sister, brother-in-law and their two sons (my precious nephews) live in Redding, CA. This past few days have been traumatic, but thankfully they did not loose their home to the Carr fire. Many of their friends are sifting through ashes of what’s left of their homes. It’s truly devastating to hear what they are facing.

Thinking about this fire got me thinking about the metaphor of fire in the Bible. John the baptist said:

“I baptize you with water for repentance, but he who is coming after me is mightier than I, whose sandals I am not worthy to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. Matthew 3:11

There are other references about fire in the Bible like, “Our God is a consuming fire…” (Hebrews 12:29) and “For everyone will be salted with fire.” (Mark 9:49). And in the Christian world we talk about fiery trials (1 Peter 4:12) and the passion and zeal we should have for Jesus being like a fire of worship and adoration burning in us for him. The idea of fiery trials is just that, an idea, until something like the Carr Fire happens to you and destroys your home and all your belongings.

The images I’ve been seeing on the news and social media of the devastation of the fire in Redding make me think about what John and Jesus and the scriptures are trying to tell us about walking with this God who laid down his life for us. He is a consuming fire, and he does put us through a baptism of fire and salt us with fire to destroy even good things that cannot endure the heat of his faith purifying power.

At church today my pastor taught from Romans 8. The passage that we often hear as, “Everything works out for good,” doesn’t say that. It says God is working all things- the good, the bad, the destroying fire, the pain, the loss, the grief, the death, the disease, the betrayal, the sorrow- he’s working ALL THINGS together for good for those who love him. And he’s doing it to make us more like Jesus. That’s fire. That’s God’s fire. Working everything for good to make us more like Jesus might look like the Carr fire burning down every thing we have. It might be a whirlwind killing all our kids and striking us with disease like Job. It may be the hard day-in day-out slow burn of life in the suburbs.

Whatever our circumstances, for the Christian, the holy fire of God’s power is going to destroy what doesn’t last forever. And it’s going to purify our faith which will never be destroyed. The same power that burns our walls, strengthens our hope in Christ.

‘In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. Though you have not seen him, you love him. Though you do not now see him, you believe in him and rejoice with joy that is inexpressible and filled with glory, obtaining the outcome of your faith, the salvation of your souls. ‘

1 Peter 1:6-9

7 Thing Keeping Me Awake Tonight

I worked a twelve and half hour day on the acute rehab unit today. Made chili dogs for my sons when I got home and a bowl of sautéed veggies, brown rice and quinoa for myself with a glass of pinot grigo. Worked in my powerpoint presentation for my community health class. And listened to my two teenage sons decend into a legit fight downstairs when they were supposed to be going to bed. After the fight was broken up and they were all sleeping soundly from the let down of their pubescent male adrenaline rush, I sat here with another glass of pinot grigo to try and finish my powerpoint. I didn’t finish. I ended up squeaking out a wimpy prayer for help in raising these teenage sons of mine. I turned to my Bible. And then, I confess, got distracted by a notification from Twitter and started perusing tweets. I saw people’s posts about Rachel Denhollander’s victim impact statement at Larry Nassar’s sentencing hearing and the interview she gave to Morgan Lee at Christianity Today and sighed more moaning prayers of longing for Jesus to make things right. And then my mind flooded with concerns. Concerns for sons growing up in this culture. In this house. Concerns for the church in the U.S. Concerns for my marriage. And then I went back to scripture. Like coming up for air after a dive in the deep end of the pool. And I read this:

Genesis 22:1–2

[1] After these things God tested Abraham and said to him, “Abraham!” And he said, “Here I am.” [2] He said, “Take your son, your only son Isaac, whom you love, and go to the land of Moriah, and offer him there as a burnt offering on one of the mountains of which I shall tell you.” (ESV)

And then my tired brain punched out these seven thoughts like take-a-number tickets at the deli.

I get that God is teaching us something about trusting him through the story of Abraham and Isaac. And I even get that it foreshadows Christ, the only begotten Son of God, sacrificed for us. But I’ve always struggled with why God would have Abraham offer his son as a burnt offering.
I need wisdom to raise these sons. I’m tired and I just don’t know what to do most of the time.
God will take what he has given me, that I lay in obedience to him, even if it seems like I may loose the very thing he’s given me, and he will use it for his glory. Applies to my marriage. My sons. My life…
Eating vegan for the last month has been surprisingly pleasant. No fancy vegan frozen imitations of real meat dishes. Just lots and lots of fresh or sautéed veggies, quinoa, brown rice, oats, nuts and more veggies. It’s been good. I might just keep doing this.
There is a real confusion in the church about what mercy and forgiveness is and how it’s different than enabling and not dealing with or exposing sin and wickedness. I’ve seen this in my own life and marriage. I see it in the Rachel Denhollander’s story.
I’m going to feel so good when I don’t have a headache, jaw pain, sinus pain and a bunch of knots in my neck and back. After having injections in some of my facial muscles yesterday and metal rods jammed up my nose I see more injections and a root-rooter job on my sinuses in my near future. Ugh.
I have a job interview tomorrow… home health.

I think I can I think I can I think I can

Today is the 16th anniversary of the September 11th attacks and the 16th anniversary of my first shift as a registered nurse. I think its fitting that today is my first day of “class” in my online RN to BSN program at Grand Canyon University.

I completed my virtual classroom with my university counselor, Simon, and finished my first online assignment and bio. Day one of going back to school as a 43 year old- done.

I listened to a podcast while doing dishes today (yes, we wash our dishes by hand) where the podcasters speculated about how a day a work in their individual careers would be different if it was 1985. I don’t know that I wish 1985 back, but I do feel more comfortable with a manual, real-paper-book, life than I do with the online, technology driven life. Getting online with my school counselor to do a virtual tour of my “classroom” had me feeling like… a 40 something year old college student. I’m excited to learn, but I admit I’m intimidated by the technology. Next: Learn Powerpoint.

Got a voicemail from an FFA student in Globe, AZ who asked her FFA group could market my soap for a agri-business marketing project. I’ve also had several people email, text and message me asking what soap I have available. I haven’t made a batch of soap in several months. I want to make soap. I like it that people benefit from and enjoy my soap. But I feel like making soap and selling soap right now is distraction from the direction I’m going right now, which is pursuing a higher degree in nursing.

Going back to school, having people inquiring about my soap, having people at work encouraging me to promote into a leadership position, having two sons in the throes of puberty, having a troubled marriage (which is currently better than it has ever been), having a church family (finally!) that I’ve committed to investing myself in… all of these have me seeking God for what it looks like for me to run the race set before me, eyes fixed on Jesus.

The school, soap and work could drop off the planet for me right now. They’re not eternally important. But the sons, and the husband and the people I’m getting know and serve at church, they are. When I think about my “race”- the life God has set before me to run by faith, I don’t think about school or soap or work very much (although I do think about my witness as a Christian in those arenas of my life). What I do think about is the people I live with everyday and the people throughout history and geographically who will be my family eternally. The desire for those to be one group is a burden I take to the only One who can transfer anyone from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of his Son.

And the Lord’s servant must not be quarrelsome but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness. God may perhaps grant them repentance leading to a knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, after being captured by him to do his will. – 2 Timothy 2:24-26

eyes on the Author- the every morning struggle to walk by faith

I don’t wake up full of vision and motivation. Actually, what motivates me most is the idea that my french press and single-origin coffee from Guatemala are just minutes away from awaking my senses with it’s warm, toasty aroma. And on those days when I get my stiff, puffy-eyed body out of bed and make my way to the cabinet to prep the press with my favorite coffee and find we’re out, I feel great motivation to get dressed and drive to the local store so I can hurry up and get back home before too much time has passed and get my coffee going.

Basically, coffee motivates me to get up in the morning.

Mixed in the grogginess between eyes open and that first cup of coffee I remember who I am.

I am not my own. I am a Christian. The weight of meaning in that word falls on me like gravity on the fledgling attempts of a young eagle to fly every morning.

I feel myself falling. Falling. Squawking out a cry, “Help! Help Lord! I am yours. Let me hear your loving kindness in the morning lest I be like those who go down to the pit!” Sometimes sooner, sometimes later, but never failing, my faithful Helper and Friend, my God, my Father, the one who made me a Christian and bought me out of slavery to the law of sin and death, he swoops down and lifts me up on his everlasting wings.

He’s teaching me to fly. To soar on wings like eagles. To walk and not grow weary. To run the race set before me as a woman finding her identity in Christ, as wife to James in a difficult marriage, as a mother raising men, in a community and time full of the “treasures of Egypt“. And when he finally lifts me up I see the wonder of who He is and what He’s done and what He’s doing in me, I can face the day.

I don’t always get a chance to reflect on the truth of what God has done in calling me his own daughter like today. Usually the day marches on and I struggle to fix my eyes on the One who wrote this story. He’s the author of my faith, and since he is, he’s also the one who will finish the story he started in me. He’s not an inconsistent blogger or an aspiring writer. He’s the author of life, and the writer of faith, and the one who began this good work in me. And he will be faithful to complete it.

Every morning the struggle is real. And that’s no cliche. I need to get my eyes on Jesus every morning and remember who I am, and the promise that He who began this good work in me will be faithful to complete it. I need to remember that God gave me life in Christ and I am destined to be with him forever. I need to remember because I’m called to die daily. I’m called to follow Jesus in taking up my cross daily. I’m not here for my best life now. My life is not all about me and getting all the pleasure and comfort and ease I can squeeze out of the day and people in my world. I’m a Christian, my best life is already and not yet. I taste it here in every little resurrection, when I deny bitterness and embrace forgivenesss, when I deny ease and choose serving, when I feel the sorrow and the pain of my own sin and others’ sins and rejoice in the promise that the One I love, who I have never seen, He will make all things new.

If I could just get my eyes on the Author today I’ll be OK.

“…let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith,” – Hebrews 12:1-2

Three Practical Ways to Take Refuge in God

Photo Credit

I’ve been thinking a lot these last few months about what it means practically to take refuge in God. Refuge isn’t a term we use often personally. On a political level we may think of refugees, and the place they go to flee the danger in their homeland as a place of refuge. But for the Christian, the idea of God being a refuge should be very real, personal and practical.

Christians are not at home with the ways of this world. We feel like foreigners here. We don’t have the same desires we used to have. We once partied like the world, were greedy like the world, sought self above all like the world, and hid from the pain and brokenness in this life in various ways. Those ways were once our refuge. Before Christ shone on our hearts and broke our chains we hid from the suffering of death, betrayal, loss and pain in people, temporary pleasures, mind-altering substances, sleep, money, withdrawal, food… and many other various cotton-candy hiding places. In those days, we found that hiding in those places gave us an escape from one pain only to be bound by the chains of another. Since Christ has come into our lives, we know that only he can truly hide us in times of trouble. We fail many times, running back to old hiding places that can’t shelter us from the storms of this life. But ultimately, it is Christ that we run to, because as our brother quick-fall-Peter said, who else is there to go to? Only Christ has the words of life.

But what does it look like to hide in Christ? What does it look like to run to God as refuge?

The Psalms are full of declarations that God is the psalmist’s refuge. The psalmist runs to God when he’s betrayed, when he’s chased, when he’s surrounded, when he’s found in sin, when he’s sick, when he’s in pain, when he’s depressed, he even runs to God for refuge when he feel like God has forgotten him. Why? And how?

There’s definitely more than one blog post worth writing on this subject. Just taking the time to read through the Psalms and notice how often the writer calls on God as a refuge could be a devotional for a year. I want to focus on one particular Psalm and think about how we as Christians take refuge in God.

Psalm 57 has a small title under it in my Bible that says, “To the choirmaster: according to Do Not Destroy. A Miktam of David, when he fled from Saul, in the cave.”

David wrote this psalm when he fled from Saul in a cave it says. Saul was the king of Israel God had told was no longer going to be king. He was loosing his mind and was murderously chasing David to kill him, knowing David was to be the king in his place. Now that’s a situation to feel like one might need to find refuge somewhere. I’ve never had to flee physical danger, but like David, I know the feeling that my soul is “bowed down”, or “in the midst of lions.”

As I read through this Psalm I find three practical ways to run to God for refuge:

1) Call on God’s mercy
2) Remember God’s sovereignty
3) Expect God’s faithfulness

Call on God’s Mercy

“Be merciful to me O God, be merciful to me, for in you my soul takes refuge. In the shadow of your wings I take refuge ’til the storms of destruction pass by.” -Psalm 57:1

God is not a big, fluffy teddy bear to run to when you need to throw a tantrum. He’s not a neutral zone where anyone can come and get away from trouble. He’s almighty and holy. He’s a righteous judge and knows the heart of every man. He’s unable to be OK with sin in any amount or kind. He’s perfect. He is to be feared. And anyone who might try to stand before him would find themselves toast without the means he has provided to cause none of that righteous anger against sin to be aimed at them. And that means is Christ. Christ is the propitiation (big, church word) for us who believe in him, that is, he takes all the condemnation aimed at us from God. To say it another way, Christ satisfies the need for God to destroy sin and sinner. If God were to ignore sin he would not be a good God or a just God. God’s perfect justice demands the destruction of sin and the sinner. Otherwise the malignancy of sin (which we all see everyday in our broken world and in our own lives) would spread unchecked, and God would not be sovereign or good. But God is not only perfectly just he is also gloriously gracious and merciful. He is love. Therefore he humbled himself to be what we could not be and do what we could not do. That is mercy. And for the Christian, calling on God’s mercy as displayed in Christ, is to call on the only power strong enough to shield our souls from the lies and traps and chains we so easily believe and turn to. We call on this mercy in our prayers every day. We call on this mercy when we face our failures once again. We call on this mercy when we feel the threat of fears that we were once controlled by. In calling on God’s mercy we remind our souls to hope in the God who died for our sins so that we could be in friendship with him and no longer fear his judgement.

Remember God’s Sovereignty

“I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me.” – Psalm 57:2

Whatever we flee to for refuge must be more powerful than the situations we’re fleeing from. Only God can be that. I don’t claim to understand the workings of God’s sovereignty or the whys. But I know that when I face the sting of death, or the fear of rejection, or the terror of an enemy, or the betrayal of a companion or any other hard and painful suffering, there is only One who can do anything about it. The Creator of the universe. It’s in knowing that the very God I run to for refuge is the God who has designed this suffering in my life to purify my faith and make me more like Christ that I find a true place to hide. He may not take away the pain of this suffering, but he’s the only one who can. And one day he will take it away. It may not be now. But it will be. In the mean time, I run to the One who rules over it and trust him to use it as a tool in my life for my good. He cares. He hears. He loves. And He will rescue. In remembering God’s sovereignty I hide my soul from the lies that God is punishing or God has forgotten or God is helpless. He rules over what hurts me and he uses it to fulfill his good purposes for me.

Expect God’s Faithfulness

“He will send from heaven and save me; he will put to shame him who tramples on me. God will send out his steadfast love and his faithfulness!” Psalm 57:3

Knowing God’s faithfulness requires a history with God. If you don’t have much of a history with him, look to the book of his-story, and look to his people both living and dead. The God of the Bible has a long history of unbroken promises and faithfulness to unfaithful people. As the psalms say so often, his faithfulness reaches to the skies! If I were to try to write out the zillions of ways God has shown he is faithful there wouldn’t be enough atmosphere to contain the words! But when we find ourselves in the midst of the storms of destruction God’s faithfulness comes into question in our minds. Has he forgotten us? Is he even there? Does he care? This is where the Bible points us to a cloud of witness who say: God is faithful! He will not abandon! Hebrews 11 is famous for being the hall of faith, calling to account the names and stories of the people of old who have lived by faith. But as you read through these stories and names it is not the faith of these people so much that encourages ours, but the faithfulness of the One they had faith in. Noah built an ark from faith, believing what God warned him. But it was God who saved Noah and his family from the storm of destruction that came on the whole world! Abraham ultimately believed God when his body was as good as dead despite his failed attempt to fulfill God’s promise for him. But it was God who did the miracle of giving Abraham and Sarah Isaac despite their dying bodies. And I could go on and on to recount how God was faithful to Joseph even in the betrayal of his brothers and the lies that landed him in Pharaoh’s prison. And how God did not forget his people in Egypt but prepared and sent Moses, hearing their cries for deliverance from slavery even though they were a stiff-necked people. And how God heard the humble confession of a prostitute in a wall of a city he was about to destroy and saved Rahab. Not to mention Ruth and Noami or Esther or Daniel or Paul or the many who have died as a result of their faith and who’s deaths have been the seed through which a harvest of souls were faithfully rescued by God. I remember God’s faithfulness as I read my Bible, look to the lives of Christians throughout history and in my life today and look back at my life as I’ve imperfectly walked with him. He is faithful! Remembering this is sure refuge for my tired soul.

I may not be able to see my soul like I see my body, but just as my body would run to a strong structure to hide from a destroying storm, my soul runs to God to hide from the destructions that threaten when I face pain, death, betrayal, temptations, my sin, weariness, anxiety and many other soul-storms. My soul runs when I open my mouth and call on his mercy, when I recall God’s power over all things, and when I open my Bible and remember his faithfulness.

When your heart is broken on Valentine’s Day

It’s not that other days with a broken heart aren’t painful. It’s just that on Valentine’s Day everywhere you look, go or listen pink shiny hearts and candy pour like salt on your wounds.

I’ve waded my way through the gushing pink day with my own busted up heart many times. This year I do it again. If Valentine’s day feels like a mockery of your broken heart and a deceitful allure to try and find love in cheap thrills I offer these three rescuers:

1) The Lord whose heart was pierced right through is with you and me.

I don’t know what broke your heart. Maybe it’s the death of someone you love. Maybe it’s the betrayal of a dear friend. Maybe it’s a prodigal child. Maybe it’s a divorce or a breakup. Maybe it’s a daily hard keeping of your covenant. Maybe it’s the rejection you’ve endured time and time again. Whatever pierced you through and is causing your physical body to hurt and reel from the wrongness of what has happened or is happening, Christ has felt it in his body too.

“But he was pierced for our transgressions;he was crushed for our iniquities;upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace,and with his wounds we are healed.” – Isaiah 53:5

Blessed are those who turn to our wounded Savior for healing. For us, he is enough. We don’t look for healing in chocolates, or wine, or romantic cards, or a dozen perfect thorn-less roses. Jesus is enough for us. We hurt, but we know our hurt is not the end of the story. His brokenness has redeemed ours. Every weapon formed against us will fail. Every trap laid, every betrayal, every rejection will only be for our formation into the likeness of the One who saves us.

“no weapon that is fashioned against you shall succeed,and you shall refute every tongue that rises against you in judgment.This is the heritage of the servants of the Lord and their vindication from me, declares the Lord.” -Isaiah 54:17

2) Only the Heart-Maker can be your heart-healer

The only one able to heal our broken hearts is the one whose heart was pierced for our transgressions. Our hearts may break because death has inflicted a crushing wound or because betrayal has stabbed and turned in the place where we loved, but Christ’s death and his sin-bearing body swallowed the power of sin and death. Only Christ, the Word made flesh, the Image of the Invisible God, only he can heal what was meant for destruction. Only he has the power to bind up our wounded hearts and bring real healing.

“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound…” – Isaiah 61:1

Blessed are those who believe that Christ was not only wounded for our transgressions and has the power and the mission to bind up our broken hearts, but he is also the one who miraculously designed our brokenness that he might bring about our healing and the spreading of his glory in our lives. He breaks us and heals us to cause us to know him for who he really is- the One who lays down his life for us. There is a cycle of death and resurrection that spreads life in every way he works with his children. This is his design. This is his way.

Come, let us return to the Lord;for he has torn us, that he may heal us;he has struck us down, and he will bind us up.After two days he will revive us;on the third day he will raise us up,that we may live before him.Let us know; let us press on to know the Lord;his going out is sure as the dawn;he will come to us as the showers,as the spring rains that water the earth.” – Hosea 6:1-3

3) Your broken heart poured out in love of Jesus is like priceless perfume spreading his aroma everywhere!

Your broken heart is not a waste! The pain you bear is not for nothing. Christ has borne our sin in his own body! He has made us one with him. He has joined us to God in peace and unbreakable covenant. When we pour out our bleeding heart on him and see our aching lives as his, for his use, for his purposes, for his glory, for an eternal harvest, our cracked up stories become a broken bottle of priceless perfume spreading the aroma of the worth of Christ to everyone in our lives. Not everyone will smell him as beautiful, but those who do will be drawn into knowing him too. As Ann Voskamp says, what some mistake for destruction is really growth. Our lives become a seed, planted and falling apart in this earth to spring up life-giving life. And Christ says that is a beautiful thing!

“And while he was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, as he was reclining at table, a woman came with an alabaster flask of ointment of pure nard, very costly, and she broke the flask and poured it over his head. There were some who said to themselves indignantly, “Why was the ointment wasted like that? For this ointment could have been sold for more than three hundred denarii and given to the poor.” And they scolded her. But Jesus said, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me.” – Mark 14:3-6

Blessed are the ones who see their lives in light of God’s great story. Blessed are those who don’t say, “YOLO!” you only live once, and suck as much life for themselves out of this broken place as they can, but rather they say, “YOLF!” you only live forever, and let their redeemed lives be planted in this world that others might live and know the worth of the One who has loved us to death!

Dear Beloved Brokenheart, you walk the path of ever lasting life. You walk hand in hand with the author of such a life. Let every expression of love you see today be a reminder to you that your life is not your own, you are Christ’s, and He is yours, and because of him all your pain is for the spreading of the priceless aroma of the God who so loved the world that he gave his only Son.