There are days I want to run far, far away to a place where mankind is kind and words are used to build instead of tear down, but then I look in the mirror and see the face staring back at me and realize that no matter how far I run, I can’t get away from me.
I am a survivor by instinct. I have long been independent and self-sufficient, which at times have been detrimental on my journey in this God-life. My instinct is for self-preservation. My instinct is to defend myself. My instinct is for myself…. and I get tired of myself.
I know there is another way. The way of surrender, dependence, and letting go. It’s a journey of being completely and totally God-dependent.
But life? Storms come up out of nowhere and I take a broadside hit. I go to bed with blue skies and wake up to gray. I have heart-wounds that reopen and I respond defensively. I am misunderstood. I am maligned. I am misused.
Where is my confidence? Is it in myself and my abilities?
It’s found in the exact opposite of what my instinct might be. True confidence is found in taking refuge in God and waiting in the shadow of his wings. It is found in crying out to him and believing he will fulfill his purpose for me. It’s understanding that sometimes I have to wait and watch for him to work on my behalf.
Confidence is allowing my heart to sing even in the midst of the hurt and the pain. It is about bringing God glory in the midst of my junk because it’s my circumstances–not God– that don’t meet my expectation. Confidence is realizing that his love is great and his faithfulness reaches to the skies.
True confidence is knowing God so well that despite the pain of my circumstances, my heart can still sing.
But what can I sing when my hurts are so loud?
I can sing of his goodness.
I can sing of his justice.
I can sing of his love.
I can sing of his strength.
I can sing of his righteousness.
I can sing of his faithfulness.
Then if I listen closely I can hear the echo of my song in his voice as he sings over me.
And he sings:
‘I love you.
You are mine.
I am your refuge.
Let me hide you in my shadow.
I am moving on your behalf.
My faithfulness reaches to the skies.
I am your righteousness.
I am.’
A steadfast heart is a confident heart. A steadfast heart knows where her trust is found and stays in the refuge of God when life becomes so very, very difficult. A steadfast heart rests in her identity in Christ. A steadfast heart makes the difficult choice to lay down her independence and self-sufficiency to rest in God’s love and faithfulness knowing he will take care of her business.
‘My heart is steadfast, O God; my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.’ Psalm 57:7. (NIV)
I need to remind myself of this when I am feeling shakey and unsure of myself because uncertainty provides me with an opportunity to exercise this steadfast heart that sometimes isn’t so steadfast.
Steadfastness is one of those traits that grows stronger with time and practice. Oh, to be sure, each time something comes along that threatens my faith or my belief in the goodness of God I tremble and shake, but the more I choose confidence in God the less time I spend shaking and trembling.
Confidence isn’t about me and my ability, it’s about resting in the trustworthiness of God. It’s about believing that through him I am more than a conqueror.
I may not be confident in myself, but I am steadfast in my faith in God and that makes me confident.
I pray you will find rest and strength and steadfastness in God today. He is good. He is worthy of trust. He is worthy of praise. Can we be steadfast together?
Loss is a part of this life. This I know. I don’t go a day without hearing of a loss for someone somewhere. I often don’t know how to respond–sometimes the pain is too great. Sometimes the fear that it will happen to me will hold me tight in it’s grip and I will freeze.
I also know I will minimize my loss in the face of someone else’s greater loss because I want to respect those who have experienced greater losses than I.
However, I am learning it’s important to experience the pain of my own loss. Grief, however large or small, needs to be felt and experienced. A long, long time ago I lost a little one. I lost the promise of motherhood within a 12 hour period. I lost myself in the process.
Miscarriage is experienced by many, but many don’t talk about it. In a society where a baby is called a fetus and described as dispensable, those of us who have lost a baby through miscarriage don’t know where to turn and how much or if we can talk about the lost baby.
A hole was created in my heart and has now become a beautiful ache in my heart. The ache was born from the what if’s and if only’s and beauty was found within.
As difficult as the journey was up and through, it’s one I don’t regret taking. God used it to mold me and draw me closer to him and for that my heart is full.
I recently wrote a letter to my gone little lovely:
“Hello dearest love,
You were with me for such a short little time. You knew me better than I knew you. You heard my heartbeat before I could hear yours. You heard my voice and I never heard yours, but I want you to know your life became one of the greatest gifts I ever received.
How I grieved your loss. I grieved the first snuggle, the first smile, the first birthday, all the firsts that you and I never got to experience. I grieved barely getting to know you because you left after a short 10 weeks.
But lovely little one, your life had purpose. Your life had gain. It was because of your life that going deeper with God would be my lifelong journey.
Your life became the starting point for mine.
You see, I had known Jesus as my Savior for years. I had clung to the truth that God will never leave me. I knew beyond any shadow of doubt the truth that God loved me. But I was also trying to live my life for myself and giving him only part of me. I was one of those Sunday Christians and not an everyday Christian.
You changed that for me.
Because of your life…..
I was able to let go of the bitterness and resentment that had taken root in my heart.
I came to realize the depth of God’s grace to me.
I learned, again, that beauty comes from brokenness.
Because of your life I laid my plans on the altar of God’s plans.
It was not my plan to say an early good-bye. It was not my plan to always wonder if you had hazel eyes or blue, curly or straight hair, tall or short, or whether you were a boy or a girl. It was not my plan to lose you. It was my plan to keep you and to know you.
But God had a greater plan for your life. A plan to bring life to mine. I live with my wonderings and rather than be overcome by them I am overcome by the life your little life brought to my heart.
Thank-you for what you showed me about life. I will be forever grateful for you.
Love,
Your mama”
Wherever your heart is today, I am praying for you. Whatever loss your facing-whether it’s a miscarriage, a death of a friend, a loss of normal, or a loss of a relationship that you would know how deep God’s love for you is, even in the midst of your darkest and deepest days.
The journey up and through is doable. I hope you will say ‘yes’ to God and hold tight to his hand as he leads you onward, trusting him to bring you to life.
Sometimes the unknown is exciting, such as embarking into life as newlyweds or becoming parents for the first time. The way ahead is unknown, but it’s faced with anticipation.
But sometimes the unknown is frightening such as dealing with a cancer diagnosis or a marriage that is heading towards failure or a child who turns away from you.
Unknowns. Whether the unknown is looked at with anticipation or with trembling I am assured of two things.
1: I don’t go alone.
‘Your path led through the sea, your way through the mighty waters, though your footprints were not seen.’ Psalm 77:19 (NIV)
Sometimes following God is obvious. I can see where he has been because I see his footprints and I can step into them as I follow him down the path. Other times? Well, it seems like the path leads right up to some mighty waters and I can see the path on the other side, but I have to walk through the waters to get there.
I have a couple of choices. I can stay on this side of the bank and look for another way across. This usually leads me through bushes and brambles resulting in exhaustion and heart wounds because I decided I could find another way through ignoring the call to come into the waters. Or I can step into the mighty waters knowing he will be with me to guide me.
2: I will grow.
Growth happens. Everyday. We can grow straight and tall and strong. Or we can grow crooked and small and broken. It’s really about how we choose to face the uncertainties that crop up in our unknowns.
I can choose to trust God that though the way seems overwhelming and I can’t see what’s beneath the water that I can trust that the path is still there. To trust that his way is the best way and trust him to bring me safely to the other side.
Unknowns are unavoidable. We cannot know what is going to happen tomorrow and we can’t live in fear of the unknown.
Unknowns become opportunities. They become opportunities to trust in His presence and to grow.
The path we’re on may lead us through the fire. It may lead us through the desert. It may even lead us through the sea. The key is securely resting in the truth that if God led us this way he will lead us through. We simply trust.
