Lean In

I wrote this last summer. A song on my playlist kept whispering to me as I was out running on my trail. The thoughts and connections wouldn’t stop, so I did. I stopped along the trail, attempted to catch my breath in a million different ways, and started writing in the notes app on my phone.

I’m sure I looked crazy: swaying back and forth, smiling, nodding at the thoughts, watching the water and other runners pass by, letting the words flow through me. Crazy as I may have looked, I know all my words are for a purpose. So, while they have sat in my phone for months, they needed to gently remind me today… Lean in.

I pray that you are blessed by this today, wherever you are in life.


 

When it all hurts and you want to curl up or just run far, don’t. Don’t. Lean in. As hard and as contrary as that sounds, lean in a little bit more.

You don’t have to lean in so far you lose your way. And you don’t have to lean in so far you forget where you started. And don’t lean in so far you lose yourself.

But sit.

Quietly.

Gently leaning closer. Closer to the problem. Closer to the uncomfortable. Closer to the anxiety. Closer to the fear.

Come closer, let me whisper this to you gently my dear one. It’s some sort of fear that’s making you want to run. Some sort of misunderstanding. Some sort of uneasy. Maybe some sort of hurt you’ve caused. I get it. Fear is anxiety producing. Fear is scary. Fear is hurt. Fear makes us want to run.

But don’t run. It will only chase you harder. I know you want to escape it. I know you want to pretend it’s not there. I know some days you want to pretend you’re stronger than the fear. But it will always creep back in until you learn to sit with it. Until you make friends with it. Until you learn to sit in the deep dark with it and understand each other.

Be cautious in this space too. It’s not okay to spill your hurt on other people. Yes, share it with them. Let them in. Hurting people can hurt other people. Don’t mistreat those close to you out of your pain, but let them in to see it.

It’s okay to show up and be vulnerable. I know that’s scary too. Let safe people in to help you. To hold you. To see you. There is something magical when people see you as you really are.

Some days you may feel hollow. Incapable. Trust those days too. They are for a purpose. The hollow is God emptying out the uncertainty. It’s Him emptying out the demands life has placed on you. It’s Him emptying out the doubts others have filled you with.

Empty it all out.

Let it all go.

Let him take it all.

Be hollow.

So that, the divine can fill you with Himself. He is he absence of fear. And when you’re filled with Him, you’ll have the strength to lean into the fear. You’ll have His strength. His power.

Trust this.

And if you don’t know Him and that light, ask Him to show you. Ask Him to show up for you and be vulnerable with you. Ask Him to be all around you, reminding you, revealing Himself to you, comforting you.

Then watch.

Listen.

Hollow.

Be filled. Lean in. Get comfortable with the fear. Let Him work in the fear. Let Him pour in the love until it fills you up and runs over.

Just let go and lean in.

woman-happiness-sunrise-silhouette-40192

 

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Press Pause

 

Life is so full and somedays you may feel like you just can’t keep up. When you have a baby or toddler at home, you’re so sleep deprived you often don’t know which way is up. Many days you may feel like you’re just surviving.

Then the kids start preschool and elementary. Homework, friends, and sports begin to rule the day. Maybe you feel more like a taxi driver than a parent?

At this point, life doesn’t slow down, does it?! Middle school and high school sneak up fast. Tougher classes, more homework, demanding sports schedules, peer pressure, hormones gone wild, learning to drive, graduation requirements, college tours, and scholarship applications.

Oh, man.

Where’s the easy button like in the commercials?!

I’ve been thinking about all this a lot. Life can be busy and overwhelming, but I don’t want to miss the moments. I don’t want to just survive. I want more for my kids, my family, and the families I serve. After all, at the end of the day, – busy is not an honor badge.

So instead of pressing an easy button, maybe I need to press pause.

Pause
What if I create space in the middle of the busy, in the middle of the fullness of life, to intentionally connect with my kids. In doing so, what if that is teaching them a much-needed skill: that it’s okay to pause in life. To breath. To slow down. To think. To recognize and reconnect with each other and our creator.

And as we remind ourselves and teach our own families to pause, maybe we’re setting an example for those around us.

Press Pause.
Eat together. Play together. Pray together. Savor the moments.

Do you need some help doing this? Some guidance on how to press pause? Join me at the NW Ministry Conference on March 24 & 25. I’ll be leading a workshop on Friday where we’ll discuss why a rhythm of pause is vital for families. Together, we’ll explore ways to model this in our own families as well as for those we serve.

Life is full and it’s not always easy.

But when we pause we can find rest and renewal.

Together, let’s pursue the pause.

 

 

Listening to the Whisper

I love sharing The Big God Story with children.  I relish the opportunity when I get to help children learn of God’s love and His plan that He is continuing to work out.  I love helping children understand something they’ve maybe always known, but now see it in a new way.  Or take a concept and explore it deeper with them.

Kids kind of get that “a-ha” moment, just a slight shift in focus when things become clearer.  Then sometimes, as I’m preparing a lesson, the Holy Spirit is teaching me something in a fresh new way.

Recently I was getting ready to share about the prophet Elijah.  I honestly don’t remember learning of him as a child.  I think the church I grew up in was Old Testament poor.  I have since learned about Elijah and have often been with preschoolers when share about him.  We usually focus on the offering the prophets of Baal placed out.  They danced and chanted and prayed, but no god showed up.

Then Elijah offered up a sacrifice, first drenching all of it in water to prove a point.  After praying to the one true God “The fire of the LORD fell and burned up the sacrifice, the wood, the stones and the soil, and also licked up the water in the trench.” (1 Kings 18:38)  Boom.  That fast.  God sure can act quick.

This lesson didn’t stop there though.  It continued on with Elijah having to escape for his life.  After killing the prophets of Baal, well, Baal wanted Elijah dead.  So he ran and hid on Mt Horeb.  This is the part I love.  This is what I needed to hear that day when I was with the kids.  Granted, I had read the lesson through several times and made all of my preparations.  But it’s so different being on our little stage in front of kids and presenting it to them.  It affected me differently.  God affected me differently.

You see, when Elijah was hiding on Mt Horeb, he was tired and lonely.  He had done all that God asked of him, yet here he was in a dark cave all alone. God showed himself in a great wind, in splitting rocks of an earthquake, and fire that came around the mountain in a huge display.  Lots of chaos was around Elijah.

But God was not in the wind, the earthquake or the fire; He was in a still, small whisper that gently blew across Elijah.

This is where I’ve found myself lately.  I feel like I’m in the dark on Mt Horeb, crying out, “God, I’m lonely and feel lost.  I’m trying to do what you’ve called me to do, yet here I am”.  There’s so much around me, but God isn’t in the activities and the stuff consuming my day and kaleidoscoping around me.  He’s there in the whisper.  The soft still voice.

“Nancy, I AM.  I AM here, I AM with you, I AM working all of this out according to my perfect plan, I AM holding you in this, I AM who I AM and you are going to be fine.  So be still, hear my whisper, hear my voice, and know that I AM God.”

A-ha.  You’ve got me again.   I’m sitting still and listening to the whisper.

mountain-whispers


Originally posted on Truministry