God’s faithfulness – Sheila Dougal

A spiritual blessing in the trees

I went for a walk yesterday and paid attention to the birds. The fairy-like flutter and zoom of six hummingbirds captivated me. I noticed the stately and intimidating silhouette of a Red-tailed hawk perched atop a dead Cottonwood tree. I realized innumerable Grackles and doves populate the gray sky, fences, wire lines and tree branches. And I saw a mockingbird sitting alone on the tip of an enormous Organ Pipe Cactus.

Because I set this week apart as a sort of sabbath, taking the entire week off work to intentionally rest my soul in God, I took a nap and awoke refreshed. I walked outside and felt the sun warm my skin in the chilled air. I watched a silky, black male Grackle sing in response to the song of another bird on a tree down the way. I sat outside with my goats for a while and noticed our rooster showing our young hens the nesting boxes, as though to say, “This is where you lay your eggs.”

Monday night in my church community group we talked about Ephesians 1 and how so many of us feel the verbiage of “spiritual blessings in heavenly places” is unattainable, ethereal, churchy. We confessed our lack of thankfulness and awareness that leads to wonder. We ascend with our minds to the truth of Jesus being a blessing beyond our imaginations, like trying to capture a cup of water by standing under the Niagara Falls. But though we have a decreased capacity, we long to experience the reality of this truth in the here and now.

Today after my walk the thought occurred to me, maybe those spiritual blessings in heavenly places aren’t so unreachable. Maybe we’re surrounded by them.

Jesus said God showers his goodness on the just and the unjust.

But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be children of your Father in heaven. For he causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. For if you love those who love you, what reward will you have?
– Matthew 5:44-46 CSB

As I think about my insatiable appetite for faithfulness; my desire to live and love faithfully, I wonder if one of the spiritual blessings in heavenly places is noticing what the Psalmist calls, “the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”

I am certain that I will see the Lord’s goodness in the land of the living.
Psalm 27:13 CSB

The goodness of the birds, in all their variety, color, shape and song. The goodness of the warm sun, and cool rain. The goodness of hens laying eggs and afternoon naps. The goodness of breath. All of these and more have become like white noise to us. We don’t notice. But they are tangible spiritual blessings of God’s goodness and faithful love.

Every morning when the sun bursts into the night with gold, red and purple light, God shines his faithfulness on everything and everyone he has made, whether we respond to his love or not.

God is extravagant in his love for us, always giving us good. The spiritual blessing of his goodness and faithful love is in the heavenly places, yes. But if we’ll notice, it’s also singing in the trees and in everything he’s made.

The Lord is gracious and compassionate, 
slow to anger and great in faithful love.
The Lord is good to everyone; 
his compassion rests on all he has made.
All you have made will thank you, Lord; 
the faithful will bless you. -Psalm 145:8-10

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

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.

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.

Of barely burning embers, a bruised heart and a Beautiful Savior

I came to the end of another journal today. I’ve kept a journal since I was 9, and I still have all my journals from age 13 on.

Looking back is hard. And some of the reason it’s hard is pride. It’s flat out embarrassing looking back at some of the things I thought, wrote and did. I look back and know for sure, my God is so merciful and patient and faithful to me, though I have been a liar, a thief, a gossip, sexually immoral, quick to trade Jesus in for a man who would make me feel good, and much more. I’ve been a coward and a complainer, but Christ has been to me the God-Man, drawing a line in the sand, lifting my head, withholding his right to condemn me, and making me want to go and sin no more!

I’m tired of fighting sin! I long for the day when my thoughts aren’t a battle from the moment I open my eyes and depression doesn’t suck me in like a black hole. But, by the grace of God, I’ll keep fighting the good fight of faith in Christ.

There are so many hurts from the past. Oh, that I would see with eyes of faith; that I would see God’s promises kept and Christ’s beauty forged in the fires of my life and the aroma of His goodness emanating from my brokenness. Yet, I find at 39, at the end of another journal (one that started as a determination to keep the promise of my youth in marriage and to pray for my husband), that I am a smoldering flame where I thought there was fire. I am a bruised reed when I thought I was a pillar.

And I lift my trembling hands and bend my weak knees and cry out tired prayers and rest all my hope on the One who doesn’t put out irritating smoky embers like me or crush cowardly broken reeds like the one I find I am after life’s trials thus far.

I wanted to be a “woman of valor”, but peering past the obviousness of the condition I find myself in, I see my Lord stirring a flame and splinting what’s broken, and a long way off, I catch a glimpse of what I long for: to see Him face to face, and to be made like him, finally fully redeemed.

So I press on. Looking back so I can recall His faithfulness despite my folly, but then forgetting what’s behind, because He’s given me today. And it’s a long obedience in the same direction with the promise that He who began a good work in me, will be faithful to complete it compelling me to put one foot in front of the other.

A bruised reed He will not break, And smoking flax He will not quench; He will bring forth justice for truth. -Isaiah 42:3

Quieted,

Sheila

Got power?

Committing Colossians to my heart, this struck me:

…being strengthened with all power according to His glorious might so that you may have great endurance and patience, and giving joyful thanks to the Father… Colossians 1:11-12a

We Christ-clinging ones, we have heard and believed and desire to live a life worthy of the Lord, though we know we will never live a life worthy of Him. We have become fruit-bearers by His Spirit and have begun to be filled with wisdom and understanding and are being strengthened so that we may…

Have the best family we can?
Have a happy marriage?
Have obedient children?
Have a successful career?
Be financially secure?
Have a successful ministry?
Be healthy and happy?

No! Oh how selfish I am even with His grace!

Oh how I have missed the boat so many times. So many times my thoughts begin to drown in a sea of contempt due to all the expectations I unknowingly had when the gospel-boat, the Ark of Christ came to me. I’m so thankful He is restoring me, despite my proud ear-lopping reactions to His will to take up my cross and follow Him. I’m so thankful He still says, “Feed my sheep.” I hang my head in shame, but he lifts my head and talks of love and what His power in me is for. Three things.

Endurance.
Patience.
Joyful-Thanksgiving.

That Holy-Spirit power is not for what I think it may be for. He’s here in me so I can endure the loss of the very things I mistakenly thought He was going to give me.

Will I endure? Only with His glorious power.

Will I be patient? Only with the strength of His might.

Will I give Joyful-Thanks? Only if I see what His power in me is really for. And when I see it; when I see that Christ-like endurance press through my depraved flesh; when I see the godly bend-down-to-be-the-servant like my Servant King patience take it’s knee-stand in me, bearing with another fallen Imago Dei one, then I will be gushing with joyful thanksgiving.

For there’s really nothing else this redeemed one desires this side of heaven than to be redeemed, to glorify Him, to be a reflector of His grace to another.

Quieted,

Sheila