Shattered Whole

I stopped writing my blog for a while.

And, I don’t really know why, at least not exactly. 

My daughter’s best friend lost her dad, suddenly, unexpectedly.

My good friend lost her mother, and I lost a friend - too quickly - with so much still to see and say.

Friends and friends that had been friends in another life, lost a parent, a husband, a brother, an unborn child. A teenage girl took too many pills and another wanted to. 

It was too much for me. 

I saw my words through their eyes, and although, there is truth for someday, I wondered if maybe my words were not truth for that day. And my mouth and my heart couldn’t find a way to say to one what is true for always.  I wondered - is encouragement cruel, too hard to process, too heavy to bear?

Death has always been far away from me, but then suddenly, here it was - and it was real. And it wasn’t the kind of death I could celebrate - lives lived long and happy, filled with friends and family and legacy - it was the ugly kind, the kind that makes you think maybe the darkness in the world is winning. 

There was no space in my heart to deal with that.  It was a new possibility being created and I had to work through life all over again - its meaning - my place in it….God’s place in it, and everything took a different hue.  I didn’t have any picture that I could draw, no art I could see that was worthy of that hue; a new mysterious color, rich because of what it cost to make. 

My soul wrestled.

Father, I know You are Real, and I know in my heart, even against the worst pain, the deepest cuts, the most horrible outcome, You are still it.  The reason.  The hope. The life that still beats here, while we wait for there.

I see the unlikely union of grief and hope and they are in a tangled dance where one cannot live without the other.  And Creator God, I see the hue - the richness of this new color and somewhere inside, where I don't yet have words, I know it makes Your love deeper and more personal than I could have imagined before. Showing me more of You.  And Lord, will You use it to cover my own confusion and make it into something more beautiful, more redeemed, more alive?  

Spirit, will You let us see?  I so desperately want You for us - to know that Your love will reach the darkest places, the worst hurts - in a tangible way that matters for right now.  Jesus, I know You saw this color and You lived the hurt that comes from the hard and cruel in this world.  Shower us with your grace God - in ways we don't even know to ask; heal us, hold us, bring relief to our broken hearts. Catch our tears, because Savior, they cost us everything. Please don't let them spill like they are meaningless. Oh Good, Good Father, hear our cries and make a new tomorrow with this new color - this one that cost so much to make.

And Father, I do not believe You bring sickness, or accident, or death - I believe this failing world, our prideful hearts, I think those bring death. But, You - Father, King - You bring redemption. You bring life. You bring freedom. You bring tomorrow and You hold it and You walk us back to a new kind of whole - a whole that is broken and shattered into a thousand pieces. A whole that can retract and reflect Your light in a blinding, dazzling display. Hope that doesn’t replace grief, but joins it.  

  

I don’t know what living has cost you, but I know if you are reading this, that it has indeed, cost you. And friend, God knows its cost - and He treasures it like He treasures You. He will not leave you, no matter how long it takes your tears to slow.  No matter how many times you ask Him why. No matter how many prayers you utter where the only words you have are: “Please God make it not true.” He will not leave. He will wait, and every time you reach for Him, you will know that He has been there all along - and He has been taking every piece of pain you have had the courage to give to Him and He has been writing your story with its ink.  And your story is not over.  And your story is beautiful. 

And friend, even if we don’t know it is true - our story is so wrapped up in His own story, His reflection bouncing right off of its pages.  It is covered in love and truth and hope and freedom, and He has not stopped seeing - even if the tears have clouded your vision, or the scars have hardened your ability to feel. 

He can handle your anger, your doubt, your deep, deep grief, your fear - and the deeper you let Him travel into those deep wounds - the deeper your healing will be. 

You are His child.  You are precious to Him.  He chose you.  I don’t know why He didn’t stop it from happening.  Life is all tangled up in the weeds of a broken garden.  But, He never stops being the point. And even in His glory, His justified demand to be worshiped, He has never stopped holding you - and will never stop reaching for you.  

Run to the grief with Him.  Brace yourself to feel, to engage the pain.  Show Him how badly it hurts.  Cry to Him and with Him.  Friend - there is a future.  And you are His beloved.

I am so sorry for your hurt.  I am so sorry for your pain.  I am so sorry for the loss and the confusion. And I am so confident that God knows, God cares, God sees and God loves. I stand in the gap and pray for you today and I trust Him to meet you right where you are, and to love you like a Father, a Husband, a Teacher, a Friend, a Counselor and the Almighty God He will forever be. 

Wine, Whine, and the Sober Life

This week I responded to a group message where I was challenged to come up with a life application for whine and wine.
I did, because if I will climb a stupid telephone pole 10,000 feet in the air for a challenge, there is clearly not much that I won't do if dared.
Unbeknownst to me however, was that in doing it, I was going to stumble on a thought that would almost immediately change the course of my day.
Here's what I said:
" 'Whine', when indulged in too much, will distort your perspective and stain anything it spills onto."
Cute, right?
But, after I wrote it, I couldn't stop thinking about it, which looking back is probably not the ideal order of events, but....
but, I couldn't stop wondering if the analogy held true.
And, because I am whining a lot lately,
I felt like knowing, how far does this analogy go?
So, I started to overthink it and break it apart, because that is what I do.
And, I considered wine.  It comes from tended grapes that are grown until they are ready to be pressed into a sweet inspiring drink.
A drink that is good for your stomach when taken in small doses.
A drink that makes for good conversation and brings out an atmosphere of openness.
And I wondered, could 'whining' actually be the same?
It grows slowly in our hearts, out of fear or disappointment.  And we tend to those places.
Eventually, those things are "ready" in our hearts and, as we are pressed down upon, they break open to bear the drink.
A complex drink with many notes and many layers.
And, the whining, - the "this is hard", "this is sad", "I feel exhausted" -  brings about an atmosphere of openness and good conversation.
It is healing for our souls.

And, just like with wine,
that is only true in small doses.
But, for many of us, it becomes our drink of choice.
And then we are in trouble.
Consider wine - meant as a gift - if indulged in too much.
It distorts, it makes one sick and it stains relationships.
And, isn't whining the same thing?
Meant as a gift.
An opportunity.
When indulged in, bears a high cost.
It distorts our perspective, making everything around us seem wrong.
We start to need it too.
It becomes hard for us to wander through even the good things in life without it.
We start to believe our safety is found in its ability to prepare us for the bad thing that is around the corner.
We start to feel like it is the only way we can handle conversations with the people that we love.
But that is our alcoholic talking.
That doesn't make sense.
Everyone around us can see, it is not keeping us safe - it is keeping us prisoner - keeping us lonely.
It is not creating an atmosphere of openness - of good conversation.
It is shutting us down.  Protecting the broken pieces that were trying to tell us they were ready for healing.
And, like an alcoholic, once we have reached that addictive point, the cure is to stop using it altogether.
But consider that.
We break out in a cold sweat even contemplating life without it.
We need it.
Just one more, "Yeah but"  Just one little "I can't do this" "They should have noticed" "They never will"  "I'll never be" "It's all their fault"
And the alternative that I will have to replace my drink with, brings me to my knees.
And I suppose that is the right starting point for it.
Because from there, I can bring it to Him.
Expose my fear and my hurt,
and beg Him to take it from me.
Ask Him to be the strength that I walk through "it" with - whatever "it" is - knowing that underneath whatever "it" is this time is all of the fear and the insecurity that made the "whine" taste so sweet and feel so necessary.
And, here is the incomprehensible beauty of the whole thing.
I can go to Him.
He wants me to.
And instead of whining, I can weep.
I can struggle.
I can break.
And because I am an addict to my "whining" - I have to go to Him, before I go to the other. I don't get to "have just one" - it will take me over. It will win.
So, I have to go to Him often.
Always.
And I can.
He wants me to.
And, He says I can go with confidence.
That He knows.
He came.
He walked.
He struggled.
Consider His tears when His friend died.
Consider His sweat when He begged God to take it away.  He also struggled to submit to God. It brought Him to His knees.
But He showed me how to not turn away from the struggle.
He demonstrated a different way.
Return.
Back to the Father, back to the throne, and ask again.
"Father, I don't want to do this - take this from me"
And He found resolve to obey; to do His Father's will.
Until,
they were sleeping
and the loneliness and the weight was again too much.
And He showed me what to do -
Return.
"Father, please."
He didn't live this earth - it's pain, and it's disappointment, and it's distraction - to hold over my head a perfect way, and beat me down with His sinlessness.
He lived it to woo me.
To pave a path to His throne.
Because He knows choosing the Father's way is hard.
Engaging in what is happening around us can be overwhelming.
And, the whining, the giving up, the distortion of reality -
They don't pause life.
They prolong pain.
They rob of us the ability to truly live.
They steal us away from our calling, away from wholeness,
away from relationships and away from healing.

I was reminded in a sermon by Andy Stanley this week, why we are told to approach the throne of our King with boldness:
"Let us then approach God's throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need." Hebrew 4:16
Because the mercy and grace we need for right now is at His feet and He will give it.
Every time.
We don't need to grasp it from those around us.
He offers it freely.
And why can He?
Because our high priest sympathizes with our weakness.  He was tempted in every way - without sin.
And sin is to deny God by trying to be Him or by worshiping something that is not Him.
And Jesus had every opportunity.
But He didn't.
He bowed.
He begged.
He sweat blood.
And, He received mercy and grace in His time of need.
He was strengthened to submit.
And able to walk the road He was called to walk.

I wanted to whine so badly today.
I could taste the sweet temptation.
But to give in would not have given me the mercy I needed for my struggle.
And so, I showed Him my weakness.
I engaged.
And, I didn't have to limp to Jesus and explain what a failure I was. I didn't have to brace for His disappointment.
I was given a different way.
I bowed in front of this King who knew.
Who cared.
Who walked it ahead of me -
and died to give it to me.
And the mercy I needed didn't remove the cup from me.
The grace I received didn't change my circumstance.
But the drink of His mercy filled me with hope.
With courage.
With peace.
With His drink I could see - without distortion - the truth of this life.
Him.
His will.
His way.
The courage to hope. To want. To cry - all found at His feet.
The good and the hard - all kept in His hands.
His open hands.
And when I turned away from Him and the loneliness and the weight threatened the freedom I had found in His will - I followed His example and I turned back. And I cried out again.
And, I will keep going back.
Boldly.
Honestly.
Because there is no alternative that is as rich and full as His mercy and grace.

This God friend.
If we live a thousand years,
we will still not fully comprehend His love.
If you are like I am,
Addicted.
Scared.
Weaker than you feel you should be.
And you are drowning your sorrows in anything that will numb - know that your heart is trying to tell you something.
Your hurt is ready.
It wants to be dealt with.
And numbing the pain of it by indulging is not His will.
And friend, whatever the hurt, you are safe to go to Him,
He is calling you.
He wants you.
And, when you are ready to put down your whine of choice - He is ready too.
Ready with the mercy and the grace that you need.
That you crave.
That will satisfy your thirst in the most powerful and freeing way.
Keep fighting friends.
Your sober life is calling.

Another Blank Page

A blank page.

It's terribly intimidating isn't it?

The cursor blinking loudly....  

over and over again. 

Every speech I've ever given a student about "it's easier to edit something than nothing" taunts me - incidentally to the rhythm of the blinking cursor - 

It might be easier. 

Unless you are the one that has to write the something. 

Cause then it's harder.

I have something to say, I'm sure.  

I am hurting and lonely and broken

and hopeful and loved and wanted

and sad and confused

and clear and purposeful

and trapped inside of my own head

and freed inside of my own heart

I am contradictions battling nearly constantly.

I always have something to say - something to work out - something to remember. 

But, I don't always know how to say it and I don't always know what is next.
The other day I asked God - please show me - please tell me - what am I supposed to do? What am I supposed to say?  What is next? What do I do?

It's like that blank page - something is just around the corner. There is a next, another something coming, another "I should be handling this better."  More characters to meet, more plot twists to endure, more scenery to consider - more change. Just waiting on the next page. 

Maybe the mystery of life is captured in the essence of a story -  

It can feel intimidating like the white screen. 

The blankness of it. 

Full of potential -  

or pain - both equally unknown. 

Both to be found somewhere in the next lines. 

But, I don't get to choose my own ending.

I suppose however, that I do get to draft my own version - and, maybe I can write it how I want it to be - hope for something amazing and then offer it up and see if the great Editor throws in a plot twist or two.

And, as I live His changes and process what is unfolding, I can grieve over the lost pages from the story that I thought we would write. And, as I grieve, I can remember that I offered Him my pages because I trust Him. I know Him. And He is good. And He loves me. 

And then, I get to keep engaging, keep writing - keep hoping - keep dreaming.
Keep asking.
What is next?
What do I do?  What is Your will?

And I get to keep remembering that He will show me.
One step. One sentence. One great adjective at a time. I will know.
And, He will be working His glory onto every page.

I suppose at times it will take me several chapters before I understand where we are going.
I suppose sometimes, even though He shares His will with me, I will be arrogant, and believe that because I get to sit at the keyboard, I know better what should go there - and I won't throw away the pages He is asking me to.
And I suppose He will use them, in His way, as part of the greater story He refuses to give up on.

I suppose sometimes I will have writer's block and there will be stages where nothing goes on the page - just the blinking cursor mocking me, daring me to write something - anything. And, I suppose one slow, hard word at a time I will try to get back in the game - back in the groove. And I suppose He will be waiting for me, patiently letting me sort it out.

I suppose sometimes I will write courageous and hopeful and colorful chapters into my story and sometimes I will dance in the inspiration of it all.
And I suppose other times, I will write out the pain that I can't deal with any other way.

And, when the Editor changes a chapter that I thought was unfolding into something awful - and He turns it into a glorious ending that I could not have even dreamed up - I suppose I will sit with those pages clung tight to my chest in awe of the One who has more words than I could even conjure. And I suppose with everything inside of me, I will thank Him, though my words will never feel quite enough.  

Maybe my pages will mean something to someone that is staring at their own blank page.
Afraid to put the wrong thing down, or too stubborn to understand that with the loving craft of the Editor - their story could be so much more.
Maybe someday, someone will recognize that I could have never written that story by myself, 

never thought up that change or found a way to make all of these cracks and bruises work together into something so beautiful and honest.  Maybe they will know that any story like that, must have been touched and crafted and held - by Him. 

Him.  The ultimate storyteller.
His. An inspiration unlike anything else. 

Every page is a white blank space full of unwritten hope. Unwritten hope that points to His grace, His love, His reality - Love and Truth that is evident on all of our pages; the pages that acknowledge Him and the pages that don't.

Your today is probably not the way you would have written it - but don't stop writing it. Write from where you are and offer Him your messy rough draft - full of scribbles, and run-ons, and half sentences - full of hope and dreams. Because as you breathe, your story is not yet complete. And dear friend, as you live, your best is still to be written.

That Stupid Telephone Pole

Isn't it supposed to feel different than this?
Life, I mean.
Leading.
Ministry.
Marriage.
Salvation.
Friendship.

Isn't it supposed to feel different?
I imagined once that God had great plans for my life.  That He would use me to in a great way.  That I would feel powerful as His child - known and loved and chosen.
But then...life.
A positive pregnancy test.
A failed job interview.
A hard marriage.
More positive pregnancy tests.
Bills I couldn't pay.
Bosses I couldn't please.
Friends I couldn't make stay.
Friends I couldn't heal.
Loss.
Hurt.
Failure.

Don't hear me say that this is all there has been in my life - that list can be a little deceptive, because there has been so much more.  Friends that I get to laugh with and cry with and dance with - a husband that decided to engage and lead us to a marriage that is - better, honest. Wonderful positive pregnancy tests that have grown into a house full of inventive, intelligent, compassionate children - I have had good moments, great moments - success - meaningful ministry - sweet discussions.  So much beauty in the mess.
And those things are good gifts from a good Father.
But, I wonder.
Am I only taking?
Will I never give back?
Is He getting tired of giving?
Will I never be the someone He hoped I would pan out to be?
Is He disappointed?

A few years ago, I went with the ladies of my church to a retreat - at one point in the retreat, there was the opportunity to climb and jump from a telephone pole. This horrific activity was designed to be a challenge, an opportunity to do something physically that you could ponder spiritually. I, being a good leader, went to support all of the girls in my group who needed something like this to do - I, of course, was smarter than that. I would not go 30 feet up an old telephone pole for any reason. However, to support them I would stand there and cheer - and pretend that what they were doing was not stupid.

A sweet little lady that had come along with our group, decided to ask me about my "stand on the ground support" - "Why won't you try?"
Well, obviously, because it's dumb.  But, unfortunately, before I could answer, another lady from our group said, "I am afraid to do it, but if you will do it Jodi, then I will go too."
"Well....what...well...um....sure."
Sure?!!?  My mouth had just betrayed me. I did not mean sure.  I meant - NO! This is a dumb, over-spiritualized activity of no consequence to me and I would rather leave my feet firmly planted on the ground, doing what God called me to do - encourage....You can all go do this, have a good time, who am I to judge, but I will not participate by doing, I'll participate by cheering.
But I knew she needed to do this.  It was important to her, and if I told her how I really felt, I might rob her of some of that - so my mouth said "Sure."

I made a pact with myself to just climb the first 4 rungs.  The facilitator had assured us that doing one more thing than we thought we could do was success, and since putting on the gear was one step further than I thought I could go, I felt like climbing 4 rungs would put me in superhero status.
However, my legs betrayed me - and I went 6 - right to no man's land.  High enough that going down was as scary as going up.  So I panicked and kept climbing.
And every step was awful.
By the time I got to the top - I was horrified. I couldn't climb down.  My legs were shaking so badly that I couldn't get close enough to the edge to jump off, I was trapped.  And everyone was watching.  Encouraging me. Pulling for me. Watching me.
Their cheers felt like pressure and I was failing.
I decided to grab hold of my mind and embrace the activity, to make it about believing God in every situation. I told Him, "I believe You are real. I can do this through You.  I believe. You make me brave. You are everything."
But it didn't help.
I couldn't even open my eyes.
Time was ticking, I was up there much longer than I should have been.
God - I believe You - but I can't do this.
Oh no.
That's bad.
That's what all of this is about - my life, my marriage, my parenting, my ministry - God, where are you?

Eventually I took one small step toward what I thought must be the edge of the very small, unstable, unsafe, stupid platform - sitting on top of an old pole, that was far too high in the air. I had to call down to my friends, "Please tell me when I am far enough to the edge that I can jump."  I needed them to tell me because my eyes were shut and they, like the rest of my body - refused to do what I needed.
My legs felt like cement.  I am not sure how I shuffled through anymore steps, but eventually I heard them - "You are there - You can do this".
I counted to three- five or six times - and then, realizing I had no other option, I did it.
I jumped in a sort of 'stumble off the edge and ungracefully flail yourself to the bottom' sort of way; held securely by the rope and the kind gentlemen paid to give me this glorious experience.
When my friends surrounded me to help me out of the equipment - one very dear friend grabbed me and asked, "Aren't you so proud of yourself?"
My arms were too weak to punch her - so I just glared.
Proud?
Of what?
I had just made a fool of myself.
Proved to everyone how weak I really was.
It was awful.
I felt awful.
And angry.
Not at the sweet girl who had first prodded me on to the pole - but at God.
Was all of this a lie I told myself so I would keep playing life.
Life application challenge course activities are dangerous for types like me - I don't have the life skills or maturity to keep it in isolation.

The next day Jesus and I had some time to talk.  I just wanted to know what all that was about. I told Him how weak and scared and useless I felt.
He waited for more.
So, I told Him -I felt like He had let me down.  I told Him that I thought I was supposed to believe in Him and feel His glorious courage course through my veins - that He was supposed to make me strong and brave.

"Oh child."  I could almost hear His compassionate voice, almost see His soft eyes seeking my heart.
"Oh child.  You might never feel brave.  But because you believe in me, you will do brave things.  I will lead you there and I will never leave you."

See, I keep forgetting.
This isn't about me getting strong enough to not need Him.
It's about the desperate way He loves me, holds me, pushes me, knows me.
Because you believe in me, you will do brave things.

But I might never feel like a leader, I might never be ready to jump.  I am likely going to go to the edge with my eyes sealed tight shut - begging someone below to tell me what to do next.
I wish that life was easier.
But,
in the very next breath,
I don't want to miss out on God.
none of Him.
none of His plan.
none of His love.
and Father - I am weak.
I am a fraud.
I am scared - of almost everything.
I want to stay on the ground, not really because the activity seems stupid - but because deep down, I don't think I can do it.
And I am probably right.
But You can.
You do.
You know.
I've gone too far to go back Father.  I see You in everything and I don't want to go back from that - but going on....
it's hard.
it's unstable.
it's too high.
I can't do it.
I don't feel brave.

So, my sweet Savior, thank you for never asking me to do it alone.
Let's keep climbing friends, this adventure is only just getting started.

The Right Fight

I sometimes wish that I somehow had some piece of wisdom that would undo all of the tangle found on Facebook and Instagram and in the stories my kids come home with from school.
We live in a day of insanity.
I had a friend tell me the other day that the number one threat against school aged children in the United States is a school shooting. We went from being shocked in 2012 at 4 school shootings to horrified in 2015 by our current total of 52 school shootings to date.
52.
Are you freaking kidding me?
In a day where there is more education, more resources, more self-help books, jobs, money, government, society - the number one threat in our society is our children being killed while they are in class learning?!
Does anyone else want to scream?
I don't have the profound one-liner that makes this right. There is no one to condemn, not one sin I could hold up a sign against - no program I can tote, no presidential candidate I can endorse, no amount of money I can pass around - that will undo what we have done in this culture.
There is no assurance that can be found in, "If people would just ______"....because they won't.  We won't. There isn't a time coming when we all get it right and all work in unison.
But, we grasp.  we grasp. we grasp - at answers that are vapor.
If everyone would commit to vaccinating their children, every child could be safe.  Yet in 2010, I held my newborn begging her to take a breath because whooping cough was trying to kill her. She shouldn't have gotten whooping cough, she should have been safe - if only everyone would follow the vaccination schedule, she wouldn't have been sick, and the sweet baby in the room next door wouldn't have died.  Everyone has access, everyone could.  but not everyone believes, not everyone knows, not everyone is on the same page. And who really even knows what the right page is.  But, we add more vaccines, different schedules, larger outreach efforts. We are so close...if only everyone would....if only we could...
and we grasp. we grasp. we grasp.
My daughter comes home from school so sad because she doesn't fit in - no one knows her - she has no one to talk to.  They say her problems aren't real.  They say her pain is insignificant. But, it is no different than the core issue her other friend - a beautiful person who struggles with her own gender identity and has problems at home - has.
They both feel alone. Misunderstood. Confused.
How is it supposed to go?  How is this supposed to feel?
Who am I supposed to be?
Who will notice me?
Who will love me?
Who will complete me and make me whole and make this whole thing make sense?  Where is my salvation?
We have more than enough churches to adopt all of the children in this country that need a home.  Enough money to end poverty. Enough nuclear power to clear the whole game board and start over.
Which enough will win?
Which enough is right?
Our brand of social media Christianity is to stand behind what we see as the right-right and mock anyone who has a different right. We go to great efforts to find the article or the one-liner that will point out how what we do or believe is the only way that makes sense.
But really, tell me - how much sense is there in believing our own brand of self-righteousness?
It is insanity.
We live in insanity.
But, what is the answer?
Because it is where we live.  It is where we are.  It is now; and, you and I were chosen and placed here for right now.
Do we stop immunizing?
Stop being passionate?
Stop trying to save the world or correct injustice?
Do we pull all of our children into our homes and keep them from the world that is bent on corrupting them. If only we all home-schooled, then there would be no more school shootings.....If only everyone would... - see family like I do - be a mom like I am - love their children like they should.... if only.... but they won't.....
we won't.
So, what is the solution? Do we give up?
No. NO!! No!  This is not the answer.
We don't give up.
For crying out loud! We don't give up!
We fight.
Harder.
Better.
Only we engage the right battle. And, if your soap box ends with "If only everyone would ____  then everything on earth would be right" - your battle is not the right battle.
It's not going to be right, not here.
But, the One who will make us ready for His Promised Land, is doing His work here!  In our hearts: peace, love, joy, patience, kindness, goodness, self-control.  His peace against any chaos around us.  His will against any question about what to do, how to respond, how to love.
He has the answer, and the way.  He is the answer and the way.
And such a good teacher.
And He is always at work.
And He is not surprised that even with every single possible resource we could think of at our fingertips - we are still raising children that are depressed, angry, confused - killing each other - killing themselves.
Because every breath that is spent defying Him - His right, His goodness, His love - is a breath that leaves toxic air for those around it to breath in like second-hand smoke.
Save the Earth if you are passionate about it.
Save the Children if you can't sleep at night because of their cries.
Stop drinking Starbucks if they offend you.
Befriend the friendless - love the hurting - feed the hungry - weep with those that weep - Dance with those who celebrate.
If it makes your heart stir - engage it.
He made you to feel it -
and He filled you to respond to it!
You may love a different preacher than I do.  You may categorize sin differently than I do.  You might fight different injustice than I do.
But, peeps! If we are doing it to testify that God is real and Jesus' sacrifice is Salvation, hope and love - then YES!! Keep fighting!
Let's all do more different for Him - imagine the ground we could cover!
You are His. Chosen and Equipped by Him - for Him.
He is the answer. He sees the path.
He is the fight worth fighting - and the way I see it - if we are all still  here - the war ain't over.
Keep fighting friends - and pray we find the wisdom to fight the right fight - and the humility to fight it together.

Pause, Survive, Repeat

I went to a retreat a few weeks ago, and the theme was "Follow".
During the weekend we sought to find the definition of following God and we found it in Exodus shortly after the Israelites were set free from slavery that had defined their country for hundreds of years.  We found the definition from a group of people that had learned how to survive even if they had forgotten how to live.

Many of us can probably relate to a season where our main goal in life is to survive. It is as if, for whatever reason, life just suddenly goes on pause. And things happen to us while we are in the midst of surviving. 
We get good at it.

The only problem with pause is it is only supposed to be temporary.  But, sometimes we stay on pause for long enough that we set up camp there.  And, if we are at camp too long, our "awful" - our "chaos" - our "fear" - our "compromise" - become normal and comfortable.  And then normal and comfortable feel like home, the place where we know ourselves. The place we can always come back to - because home defines the essence of safe.  And safe feels like the same thing as life.

But, that is a lie. When the Egyptian army comes after us we sometimes realize we want to be home where at least the terror is known.  That place where we feel like we have some sort of control over our life because there, even if it is hard, we know how to buckle down and survive. So, while we don't return to the exact circumstance that taught us, we return to the way of living that is surviving.

But our pause is not our home and surviving is not the same as living. 

See how the Israelites responded when they heard the Egyptians coming.
(Exodus 14:10-12) ¹⁰ As Pharaoh approached, the Israelites looked up, and there were the Egyptians, marching after them. They were terrified and cried out to the Lord. ¹¹ They said to Moses, “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you brought us to the desert to die? What have you done to us by bringing us out of Egypt? ¹² Didn’t we say to you in Egypt, ‘Leave us alone; let us serve the Egyptians’? It would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the desert!”

They wanted to go back.
They said, "It would have been better in Egypt"...but!! They were slaves. They had no hope for a future. Their babies were being stolen from them and murdered.
It was not better.
Fear can make us believe some very unreasonable things.

Consider what you are tempted to return to?
I just had my epiphany this week - I have been returning back to my home all summer - instead of pressing toward my real home, which is not backward - but in front of me - I have stopped pressing on and have been going back to the place where I tell myself that I don't have to engage in the hard things - where I can just endure them and quiet the noise with simple pleasures.  I tell myself it's not a big deal, that it's temporary and I make it feel okay, because no one - even God - if I had the courage to talk to Him about it - should expect more out of me right now.

Because right now, with so many other things out of control, I just want to feel good.  And, this journey is long and it is constant and I sometimes feel tired and out of control to fix things for the people that I love - and I just wanted it all to stop - just for a minute.

But, here is the irony - there - in my pause - life becomes more out of control. I have to add more and more to quiet God's call for me to deal with the pain, to grieve with Him - to give these things to Him.  I create a mess with practical, tangible things - and then the stress mounts because - more is out of control.  And while intellectually, I can see that there are some bad things  about being in that place - emotionally I can reason that at least I know that place - and at least there I know that no matter what comes at me, I can endure, take care of the basics, and survive.

Fear makes us believe really unreasonable things.
And it doesn't satisfy because pause doesn't work in real life - and things weren't actually better there.
And surviving is not living.
Pause is not follow.

The Israelites are panicked. They show their scared hearts when they accuse God of leading them to the desert just to watch them die.  They do not know that He is good.
And Moses says to them, '(14:13-14) ¹³ “...Do not be afraid. Stand firm and you will see the deliverance the Lord will bring you today. The Egyptians you see today you will never see again. ¹⁴ The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”

Be still. Stand Firm.
The only way to be still and to stand instead of retreat is to know who you serve and who is fighting for you! 
Our Father is good.
Our King is honorable.
Our God is real. He is love. And He is here.

And, we can be still.  We can stand firm. Even when our past is coming up behind us intent on destroying us.  We don't have to go back.  Even when life, and bills, and sadness, and fear and temptation are pressing in - we can hold our ground.  We don't have to retreat to our pause - we don't have to go back to the place where we only survive.  It is not better there.

And Moses says be still - remember who fights for you.  Stand firm. You don't have to go back.
See that God is in front of you, behind you, in the day  - in the night. He has not left. Give up this incessant illusion of control and safe and know that His presence is real and relevant.
And good. Uncompromisingly good.

And then God responds and says, (14:15)^15 "Then the Lord said to Moses, “Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to move" 

Move.

Be Still - know who I am - and move.

I know things are hard.
You may feel like He tricked you, He led you from one bad to another and you think He didn't let you take the shortcut to freedom because He is sick of you and He wants to watch you die. - but friend, no.  He does not want to watch you die.  He wants to set you free.  He is not sick of you.  He is not giving up on you.
And you have somethings in the past He doesn't want you to run from - He wants you to face them and see His hand wipe it out. For you.  Because He fights for you.  He is not mocking you.

He is leading you.
He is reminding you.
He is calling you.
DON'T GO BACK. 
It is not better there.
You were not better there.
Do not go back.
Be Still. Stand Firm. Take a deep breath. Trust me. 
And move.
Because child we got places to go, and I got things to show you.
It is time.

Let's keep fighting. Let's keep engaging. Right now is not the end of the story.
Be still, Stand firm,  don't put it on pause.  Engage it - whatever it is - stand and face it.
And Move.
One step. It's time to stop the pause and find the courage to follow our good, Holy, and righteous Master. 

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All Scripture taken from www.biblegateway.com:
New International Version (NIV)
Holy Bible, New International Version®, NIV® Copyright ©1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide

When Our Hearts are Burned

Recently my husband got second degree burns from his knee to his toes. I couldn't help myself, because as gross and painful as the injury was, the life application was nearly oozing from the sores.  (See what I did there?!)

How he got burned probably matters far less than what the healing process was like. 

And the healing process was painful - shockingly - painful.

The doctor had to keep assuring us that the pain was actually a good thing.  I don't know that you could have convinced him of that by day four.  Because the pain felt like a bad thing - like a "Are you going to lose your foot?" sort of bad thing.  

I am getting ready to speak at a retreat in two weeks and God keeps impressing on my heart this idea of being open to Him.  And somehow, I keep thinking about my husband's burned leg.

There are so many areas of my life where I am not open because I have been burned.  Many of those areas, I have neglected to clean - because uncovering the hurt, even to then again cover it in medicated salve, was too painful. And because I didn't, a lot of those places are still open and raw.

Here is where my annoying habit to see everything as a life application becomes painfully relevant, because I have to ask; "What if my pain is actually a good thing? Proof there is still life?  Proof my heart could be healed"?

Check out each stage of the process of healing on his leg and see if the life application doesn't hold true for our burned hearts:

• The initial burn hurt, but it took a few hours for the blisters to show up.  The first blisters were large and ugly, however, it seemed that they would be contained to a three inch diameter.  Yet, the skin continued to blister and peel off. Days after the burn first took place his lower leg had blistered and peeled so many times, there was actually less of his leg covered with skin than there were areas that were exposed, raw, and open. 

Isn't it the same for our hearts?  When the initial "burn" comes at us, it hurts and it doesn't usually take long to see the first obvious sores. I am sometimes quick to deal with the initial hurt by band-aiding it:  "It's fine" "No problem" "I shouldn't have...."  "That person is just a...."  "Whatever...."
However, sometimes the "burn" is just too deep to respond to those quick methods, and while I just said "It's fine", I feel far less than fine.  Maybe I am angry, scared, hurt, sad; maybe all four.  But, the second I admit I am not "just fine" it seems to spread.  If I go to really deal with the one large blister, it turns out there are many other blisters popping up. And, every time another one shows, it also peels away and more of my soul is exposed and raw.

• After the blister is opened, it has to be cleaned - everyday and the sores are very susceptible to infection.

Just like our hearts. Once they have been opened, they have to be cleaned - everyday - for they are very susceptible to infection. The pain involved in that cleaning can be overwhelming - but if we don't open them up in front of God, again, and again - the Holy Spirit cannot, again and again, place His healing touch on our rawest parts - the parts that are in need of the most of His love, the most of His mercy, the most of His grace.
And, if we don't protect those places with God's very real love; they are left exposed to the lies that we use to medicate ourselves - and those lies can cause dangerous infection.

How much healing do we leave on the table because we are desperate to avoid the pain?  How much more pain do we cause because we won't submit to healing?

• Finally, the new pink skin begins to grow again, and with that growth, nerves also begin to grow back. 

Consider the areas where you have been burned and what happens as you begin to experience healing.  Healing comes with feeling, And, feeling with new exposed nerves can be shockingly painful. This is the stage we need the doctor who can assure us. "The pain is good.  It is a sign of health, of life. It won't last forever.  This is normal. You are not alone".
This is the time we need the doctor to tell us to keep going, keep cleaning.

• How incredible to consider that even after that pink skin has completed its job and covered the entire burn; you will still have to be protective of it in the sun or when you find yourself once again near a fire. 

I only know how to demonstrate this with an example; My husband has been dealing with my pink and sensitive heart for the last few years, because it was only in the last few years that I began to enter in to some of the deeply burned places in my heart.  When we start to get near conversation that is hard for me to talk about, I once again feel the fresh newness of those places in my heart.  The fear that those places will be burned again is intense, and so is the desire to run away from the situation.  I am cautious, and thank you Jesus, so is my husband; because we both know that living life away from the things that might hurt - is not living at all.    

• Eventually, the skin becomes whole again - and as time goes on, less sensitive. 

This is the hope.  Any place that we let God heal, still has life left in it.  Those places that I have experienced healing are free to feel again, free to hope.  And, the further into the healing I get, the more my heart is able to handle and experience.

I am deeply convinced that Jesus is relevant in all of our burned places - that He desires our healing; He came to set us free, and in Himself, make us whole.

At the same time, I am equally convinced that this type of healing will hurt - really, really hurt.  Like "am I going to lose my leg" kind of hurt.  Being raw is painful and it is scary.

But, it is time.
We are ready for healing.
We can no longer hobble around.  We have things to do in this world, people to love on. Our burns have placed us on the sideline.

God is real and He is relevant.
Letting Him heal our burned places means that we believe who He is.
And, when we believe, we are powerful.

Do you see that we avoid His power for some made-up version of our own?  A weak substitute that only offers us the illusion that we can keep ourselves from hurting?

Friends, it's going to hurt.
But the pain might just be the evidence of life you and I both need.
Keep fighting. Healing is coming. 

Mercy Rule Indeed

Co-ed softball season might be a long seven weeks.
Last week we lost our game 28 - 3.....after only 3 innings.
A really long seven weeks.
However, I now fully understand the decision to make a mercy rule.  It was merciful to call that game, let us gather our things and leave before the other team showed up to see our shame. Mercy rule indeed.

Can you imagine playing in that game?  How would you handle it? Are you angry, quiet, determined, bored, stressed?  I handle it by becoming the talker.  Telling everyone where the next play is - how many outs there are - where they should throw the ball.  At first I am not annoying, I am helpful - but then....I am annoying. Really annoying.  I can't stop talking and cheering and "trying to keep you in the game" annoying.

It's like a switch goes off in my head and I can't separate real life from the game.  And I feel so desperate to make sure everyone keeps going.  I feel this responsibility to help everyone find a reason to play, to stay in the game. I feel like I need everyone to know what it means to play well even if there is no hope.  I feel like as a team we need to find something to be joyful about even when every ball drops where we were just standing one batter ago - or every hit we get goes to the shortstop who has range from third base to second base and an even better arm - that we need to keep fighting even if every feasible hope is lost.  I need you to stay in the game. I need you to see something good. 

And I just can't stop; no matter if  you want to be quiet or not.  I don't slow down enough to wonder if maybe you need to verbalize your frustration - or maybe you need a second to sort it out in your own mind - maybe you are angry - hot - tired - bored. Maybe you have a word to offer, but can't get it in because I haven't stopped cheering long enough for you to do so.

And, I don't think you are wrong.

I am sorry for all that I have played with over the years, who have found a different way to play the game, but felt judged by me because they didn't play it my way.


Tonight my livingroom group sat around my backyard and shared what is going on in our lives - turns out, we are all fighting in our own way to understand this God that is real and right now.  One of our ladies saw beauty that each one of us is in a different place with God: one wants to know why - one is so angry with Him, one is finding the courage to risk everything - one is obeying Him with his heart - one is trying to figure out if He is really the one for her - one is waiting for Him to speak - and all of us are loved and pursued by Him; and all of us desperately need Him.

I almost, for one brief train-wreck of a moment, became Jodi of the softball field.  Encouraging - chanting - overtaking - but I realized I don't have to do that.  Oh! My gift is to encourage and when I am doing it because I am obeying God and the Holy Spirit is coming out of me to give someone else courage - that is a win - no matter who it annoys.
But, when I do it so that I can take away a hard situation - or try to make everyone feel o.k. about what is happening - it's just not as beautiful. And that gift to encourage becomes something loud and clanging, something you want to ignore.

I am so glad that I stopped tonight because you know what? Some of the things the people in that circle are going through are really hard.  And, even for a moment, I do not want to take away the true parts of their pain. It is o.k. for them to struggle. Right now, they are having it handed to them. For some of them, every move they make, seems to be the wrong move, another hit drops in, another run is robbed.  They can't win.  And listening to me cheer in the background and tell them that they should find something different to play for - beg them not to give up ... it's just not helpful.

Tonight, they needed me to lose the game with them, and let it be o.k. that losing was really hard - Playing was really hard.  It was o.k. to just respect that; rather than try to fix it. And, for the future, I am working on a quieter, more respectful, wiser, and less desperate way - to say "Keep going.  We can start right where we are at. Every at bat, every hit, every ball pitched - it's just another step in a story that hasn't been finished yet.  And, at the end of every game, no matter how ugly - you and me - we are still a team - and the next game starts at 0 - 0. We can do this."


So - whatever you got to do - be quiet, be angry, be sad, ask questions - do it.  And then show up again next week, so we can keep facing whatever comes at us next - together. 

The Broken Limb and the Insignificant Branch

I was going to write this glorious life application blog about the giant tree that grows up against the fence of my backyard.  From the viewpoint of my garden I noticed there was an enormous, broken Y-shaped limb, hanging just perfectly from a small, thin branch that was growing from the trunk of the tree.


Crazy thing was - when I went out there tonight and was telling the girls that are helping to plan the retreat about this small insignificant branch that was holding up so much weight, I realized the branch that was holding the limb was actually a part of another piece of broken tree, and it was hanging on to a tangle of other broken branches - and further, while the broken limb appeared to be suspended in thin air, waiting to fall to certain destruction, turns out, it wasn't broken at all, it was just twisted and sad.

See, my first post was going to be about the weight that we can hold when we find our strength from the trunk of the tree; I hadn't published it last night because I was just finishing up the end - where I was having a bit of trouble reconciling what would happen to both the limb and the branch if the right storm came along, and I didn't want to let this life application die.  I assumed sitting on it for one more day would help shed the light.

And, I was right, only in my pause, I found something different. 
That tree in my backyard, is a hot mess.  It has so many broken branches and twisted branches, and broken limbs supporting broken twisted branches, I cannot untangle all of it.  And, with every wind storm, there are mounds of small twigs and larger sticks - scattered all over my yard - proving that it's not just the biggest parts of the tree that are in trouble.

**I feel like I should warn you that as you continue to read, you are going to want to not think metaphorically about the tree, and you will be tempted to stop considering the life application and instead focus on the practical reality that I really need to call a tree person to my house to take care of all of the decay before someone gets hurt.  And while I see your point, can you also see mine....even that is a life application....stay focused people.**


Then, tonight, I saw it.  I am not the broken limb supported by a small branch, waiting for the right storm to send me to the ground. Nor am I the small branch, in the right place at the right time. Instead, I am all of it; the knotted branches, the strong branches, the broken branches.

The soil, the sun, the air, the life around the tree; these are keeping that tree alive.  And though that tree needs some serious pruning, so it doesn't cause some serious danger (told you it was a life application)  that tree is giving life and shelter and beauty to the world. 

It's mess is so tangled in some places that you can't make out what is alive and what is dead.  In some of its places, the strongest limbs and the broken limbs are working together to create a whole support system for the rest of them.  In other places, there is brand new life growing - sometimes growing from where the weaker branches broke off in the storm.

To think, I almost wrote about the first life application anyways and lied that it was true. --  and missed all of this - this hot mess of life and beauty. 

In case life applications are new to you, let me show you this part: Jesus is our life.  He is the nutrient in the soil. He is the oxygen in the air.  He is the vitamins in the sunshine.

We live in this world that can be beautiful, for sure, but also broken and ugly and full of storms.  And, while those storms can cause some damage - we are rooted in Jesus - and the storms sometimes break away stuff that is holding other stuff - but from that, there is room for new life to grow.

And, I haven't even touched on the rain!  How is this God we serve Real??  What God would leave such inspiration in His creation, such love?  What God, with all power, would care that we would find comfort and truth from the trees?  This God is more than I can comprehend, more than I deserve. 

This God, my God, our God - is so in love with us.  Don't you see?  He left evidence of it all around.  Our brokenness does not scare Him; it does not disappoint Him because before we even drew a breath, He drew a tree - and He gave it life - and He called it good. 

When the Crazy Comes Through the Cracks

This has been an emotional week for me. My sister wife of another husband is moving....far away.
and it just makes it obvious that being an adult friend is really hard work.

What is it supposed to look like when we are running all over the place, and we are so spread out, and time is far more scarce than activity?  When prioritizing is a lost art and friendships are confusing.

See, my friend leaving has reminded me of this thing I have about myself - - i hate to hurt.
HATE to hurt.
Despise hurting.
Will go to great lengths to keep myself from hurting.

But, if I have friendships, I don't get the freedom to not hurt. It's part of the package.
Loving people sometimes hurts.
It means they sometimes are going to move away - or sometimes not come through the way that I want them to.
It means that I run the risk of being left.
It means I might find out that I wasn't good enough for them to stay.

And that exposes this other thing I have about myself --- I hate to fail.
I REALLY, really, REALLY,  H A T E to fail.
Fear failing.
Will go to great lengths to keep from failing.

But, if I say yes to friendships, I don't get the security of not failing.
I will fail. I will let them down.
They will put me in situations where I am accountable to them and how they feel will become important to me.
And sometimes I can't do enough - or won't do enough.
And sometimes I will want to be God and He will remind me I am not.

And then I will realize how little control and I have --- And then the fear.
The fear that they are going to leave me. The fear that I will never be good enough. The fear of not being in control  - - - - the awful, ugly, cycle.
All because my friend is moving.

(For those of you that are thinking I should go to counselling right about now - You are right. Yes. I should.)

So this girl moves into my life, forces me to fall in love with her and her family, teaches me to be a neighbor - and then leaves.
My heart breaks.
And then all the neatly stored baggage I carry around gets jostled up and some more of my "stuff" comes up through the broken cracks - and it very messily lands on the relationships that are around me - and I realize that I only have two choices:
1. I can stuff the junk that came out and pack it away - and some of the relationships it landed on will have to get packed up as well - or
2.  I can deal with it now that it is out and find a place for it in the open.

And herein lies my dilemma:
I don't want to stuff it away - to let it grow moldier and heavier.  I don't want to keep myself from the people that the less vulnerable parts of my being know that I need.
But, I also don't want to hurt and I don't want to fail.
And somethings got to give - because all of those things cannot win at the same time.

And - I hear Him whisper....
Am I real?
Because if I am real, then I know that you hurt, and I care.
If I am real, I know that you want to love perfectly - and I know you are broken and scarred.  I was broken and scarred for you, remember?  I am not ashamed of you because you need Me.
If I am real then it is worth the struggle to be a  friend because you are in the midst of a real war - and they will help you stand.
If I am real - even if your heart is left or forgotten - it will never fall out of my hand.
And, sweet daughter, if I am real - I am enough.  
Let my love heal your broken heart. 

Oh sweet Jesus, my Savior, my King, my Friend.  Give me the courage to grieve well and to stay engaged and to celebrate such a special friendship you put in my life - and to nurture this friendship between the miles.  Courage to believe you to be God in her life - and to remember that I never was. Courage to keep learning.

It's a messy business but I love adult friends. I love doing life with other women.
I'm not going to put away all the baggage that came up.
I am going to show it to God.  Let Him see the mess and then I am going to believe that He can handle it.  That He can handle my tears and my fear.  I am going to engage the pain so I can celebrate the good things and have hope for more to come.
I am going to grieve.
I am going to mess it up.
But, I'm not going to quit.

thank you for doing life with me.
and to my dear sister wife of another husband - thank you for teaching me to be a neighbor.  i love you.

I Received My Package, Now What?

Dear, "Receiver of the God is Real Package",

Thank you for taking the time to consider the Bible study material that was sent to you and for visiting our blog!

If you would like to do this study with a group, it is our intention to give away the workbook in a PDF format.  In the near future, we intend to have an easy to find button where you can request the workbook be emailed to you.

For now however, if you know you are interested in doing the study, you can:

•  Leave a comment below. 
• Visit our profile to email us.
• Go to our Facebook page: www.facebook.com/nvbcintheVine and tell us there.  

Just make sure you leave contact information so that we can get the workbook to you!

If you would like to tell someone else about this study, you can share your promotional package, or direct them to this blog.  Here they can request a copy of the workbook through email and decide that way if it is a study they would also like to use. We really appreciate your help in getting the word about this study to other women who would benefit from considering, "If God is real, then....."

Thank you for your flexibility!  We are excited and honored that you have decided to do this study! You are part of the ground floor, so please know that your comments and suggestions and stories are all appreciated.  We do ask that your words are for the purpose of building each other up, shaping this project's future and phrased with love.  If you forget - that is o.k., we just won't leave your comments public!

Thank you, thank you, thank you!
I cannot wait to hear from you!


Sincerely,

Jodi L. Mikel

encouragement in droves

We had such a great time at the launch party!  Thank you for everyone who made it and came to give me your support!  I felt like part of a team, so loved for, and so cared about.  Thank you!

I want to share a few more thank yous - this one starts with the girl who is trying to decide what she feels about God right now - you know who you are!  The one that I love.  Well, in her indecision, she was not up for partying a book released in His name, so she missed the party which made me very sad.  But, I want to thank her, because without meaning to, she ended up being a great help to me and the project!  I loved it!! God included her when she couldn't make the choice on her own to be included and it was so great to share that moment with her. Yea God!

Thank you also to the donor of ALL of the postage!!!  What a blessing - and equally as important as the money you gave was the way that your donation became a statement to my heart that God was involved and moving - and providing. The encouragement that gave my heart was priceless.  Thank you!!!

And finally, thank you to the sweet post office lady who was greeted with nearly 50 packages (some are going to be hand delivered!)  40 minutes before close.  This kind woman had to individually enter each address and print and place a label - one at a time....47 times in a row.  It took the rest of her shift!  She did it with a smile, which she assured me was because she had to - but I know for sure that is not true - I've met too many people in this world to believe that she had to be kind because it was her job - but I am so glad that she was.  I worked very, very hard not to make eye contact with anyone behind me in line.  Strangely, most of them did not share our enthusiasm about this project :)

They are all in the mail!  On their way to fifty different churches and individuals!!!  I cannot believe this is actually happening.

This is the GREAT post office lady who helped with a smile! So blessed to be at her counter!! (p.s. I got her permission for the picture! She said as long as you say nice things!!! Nothing but!!)

 I want to talk just another minute about the launch party day.  Many people came and shared this experience with me - without them, the work would have taken so long, the addresses wouldn't be so pretty and the packages would not look so great!

These will be arriving in your mailboxes this week!  A team of talented women put these together and gathered to pray over them.  Lord, God, I don't deserve this life!

That day was a big day for me and I wished I could have enjoyed it more, but I felt crazy most of the day.  So much emotion. I sometimes despise this part of myself, but no matter how I feel about how I feel - it is who I am, and it came with me into launch day.  I was worried about everything! Worried I wouldn't get everything done - worried no one would show up to help - worried no one cared.

My brain was fried - I literally showed up to the church for the party without the booklets, twine, scissors, or tape....(what did people do before frantic texting was a thing?!?!)

When I was giving a short benediction over this project with the warriors who were packaging the booklets that night - I remembered that two friends had contacted me that morning to tell me that life was getting the best of them.  The frantic, emotional me laid herself to rest and the power of the message of Corrie's testimony and the hurt in my dear friend's lives reminded me what we were doing.

Believing God is real is the hardest work you and I will ever do.  Sometimes it means that we will have to wrestle through doubt and hurt - many times it means we will have to die to ourselves for the greater life that He gives to us.  And, once you know - once you taste His freedom, see His goodness, submit to the wholeness of His holiness - you can't unsee it - you can't not know. Even when life is screaming at you that He doesn't matter - you will know in the deepest parts of your soul that He is the only thing that matters.  And that might tick you off because you will not be able to find the deep satisfaction you long for, outside of Him.

By sending these books out we are bringing the fight to doorsteps, and maybe they didn't know that they were signed up for a fight. I reminded the group that what we are teaching is emotionally costly and equally as precious.

Friends - let the journey that starts by having the courage to ask the real questions - never end until we see His glory and know His embrace.  I love you. Thank you for being a part of my story and a reminder to stay in the game.  You are worth more to me than I will ever have the words to express.

When Headache, Exhaustion and Church Collide

Today as exhaustion and headache met church - I felt the message in addition to hearing it.  Our Pastor,  Mark Leech talked about intimacy, and not just with God, but with each other.

This hits open nerves.  We don't want this, but we desperately want this. I am positive that God is trying to teach me that not only is intimacy important for the health of our church, and as I am prone to care most deeply, our women - it is part of His plan and our design.  It is for our wholeness, and our freedom. And a lack of intimacy in our relationships exposes us.

I am deeply convinced that every relational issue that we have - every wall that we keep up, every anger we harbor, every hope we don't explore - end up between us and God, even if they began between us and the people we don't want to hurt us.

And women - as a rule, we are hard.  We throw things between ourselves and our Father like it is a sport. We even clean it up and celebrate it.

So the questions I seek to find answers to as I move ever closer to mail date and ministry design team date - What are the critical aspects of intheVine that will put us in the best position to follow God's calling in our lives?  How will intheVine help women move closer to engaging in their lives and knowing their God?  We need each other, I am deeply committed to this truth.  And, in the constraints given to us here on earth, I want to be part of a ministry that breathes life; learning to share ourselves for the sake of something greater than ourselves is going to be part of the answer I am looking for.

I want to see God's love multiplied as we continue to learn to hold each other up in an atmosphere where women believe for each other in the dark times and, with great care and love, push each other not to minimize issues to just the issue itself - but rather to find God in the struggle. To ask each other the real questions - to walk beside each other as we wrestle with the harder reality of our faith and our rebellion; our hope and our surrender. I cannot stop seeking to follow God through the wreckage of earth to believe His hope and life.

He has so much left to bring to this world. Oh, that He would teach us to believe so deeply - so deeply we couldn't not.

I need His wisdom intensely; His wisdom and His creativity.  I want intheVine to never become something that just fills space or adds time on a to-do list that is already too full.  Lord, Father, teach me, and make me into someone who can learn. 

His timing.  His way. His women.  These are the things I go to bed thinking about tonight.  Well, these things and a to do list greater than the time left to complete it.  T-2 days!  Ready or not!! It's coming!

Mountains, Snakes, and Broken Trees

We are closing in.  I have the bookmarks that will go into the donated books designed, I will print them this week and we will laminate them and get the ribbons in them at the "Mailing Party"! Kimberly just informed me that her inbox has a bajillion confirmation for the books that she ordered! Her house is going to look like a used bookstore for the next week!
Next is to collect addresses.  I have none, so I should definitely get on that. I heard it is helpful when doing a mailing.

My husband just returned home from Montana, stay tuned - he is on a little bit of a "don't you think we should move to the mountains and raise cattle and get a 4-wheeler" kick.
My answer is very much - do they have snakes in Montana?  Yes?  Well, then "No, I do not think we should move to the mountains....."
We shall see how this ends.
He is smart though, because he knows what really gets me thinking, so he let it slip that the mountains are full of life applications. Oh.....I mean of course I knew that, but this one is really, really, good and it did sort of make me think what it would be like to wake up and look out my back door and read and talk to Jesus under the shadows of his mountains.
However, snakes...and the general lack of people or stores or cities or roads or cell phone service....I'm still leaning heavily on "ain't gonna' go willingly"
- but this one was very good -

He told me that while he was hiking in the mountains, he was surrounded by brokenness - broken trees, dead animals, broken rocks - but as a collective piece, the mountains were beautiful, majestic even.

I closed my eyes and tried to imagine it - you know what I saw?  Us.
Broken.  Stepped on.  Hurting.  Lost.
And I stepped back and I looked at us together, and it was breathtaking.
We are beautiful - majestic even.
Because in our brokenness, not in spite of it, but in it - there He is.  Holy - good.  Life giving.  And together, everything broken and everything burning with life is part of a very whole picture. A picture full of hope. A picture that points this world to a Savior, who we desperately need.
And as Eric pointed out, even the brokenness becomes part of life - the trees fall into the river and the fish have the food that they need - the animals die and become nourishment for other animals and for the soil.  Our brokenness unfolds into His grace and other people's stories.
God's plan is so perfect. He did not neglect one thing in His story of redemption and hope.
His love is so powerful.
Yes, we are all broken.  Now close your eyes and see us because in His story, we are all breathtaking to behold - beautiful and majestic.
We have a story to proclaim to the world.  Let is start with - He is real!
T-minus 8......

"When I try, I fail..." Corrie ten Boom

"When I try I fail, when I trust He succeeds."  Corrie ten Boom.
Oh, how I would have loved to meet this woman. 

We are ever nearing "mail date".

It is surreal.  My to do list is long, but so is my energy and my awe.
So many have helped.  Another friend, Kimberly, has stepped in to purchase the most books she can get with the money that has been donated.  I am so grateful.  And right now, so calm.
So unlike myself really.

I read Corrie's quote today and it jumped out to me because - I have tried.  I have tried.  I have tried.
It used to be one of the things I would pride myself on.  A "try-er" - until it looked like I was going to fail of course, because at that point I most certainly became a "runner" - and then even more, a "hider" from the shame of it all.

Oh - I have tried.
And there was no end to it.
It wasn't good enough to succeed at first because failure was lurking around every corner.  I might have started well, but I would have to keep going - keep being better - because there was always more trying I knew I should be doing.

But then, even in my effort to avoid it, I would find myself failing at the other things on the list: peace, joy, patience.  always failing.  always falling.
I couldn't understand the freedom that Jesus spoke of.  I couldn't bear the weight of hope.
Drowning. So often, the feeling of drowning.

The thing that baffles me is that right now, I don't feel much of that, for the most part, I have peace.   I have hope.  I have freedom.
Freedom to be excited even.  Freedom to ask for help - even freedom to write about this whole thing - which I realize intellectually exposes me - but I don't feel its weight.

My dream is about to be tested, but I don't feel panicked.
Lord, God - do you understand how in awe I am of who You are?  Do I understand all that You have put in front of me, all that You have walked me through?  All that You have prepared me for?  
I have no clue Father. I cannot begin to grasp the scope or the power of Your love or of Your plans.  

My dream is about to be tested in that I have always wanted to write and speak. But, perhaps because I have lived a little more, I deeply understand that my identity is not being tested.
 
And, right now, by the grace of God, I am not trying.  I am following.  And when I look around, there is quite a crowd joining me and we are all following.  Desperate to get the word out dear Lord that you are Real.  You are interested. You are moving. 
And Dear Jesus, our sweet Savior, you are so worth moving for. 

 Another day closer.
T-minus 14.

Red Thread Binding

Another big God is Real Project thank you to Jordan Lyons, who  is sewing all of the sample booklets we have had printed with red thread. (They look amazing!)

The binding is in honor of the time that Corrie spent in solitary confinement.  To do something other than talk to ants, she slowly pulled threads out of her sweater and used it to sew some color in her gray cell.

The red thread binding is: 

• An acknowledgment that even in that place, God is real. 
• A tribute to the courage Corrie lived her life with. 
• A way to say thank you  because her courage still breathes courage to us. 
• A reminder that even in that kind of loneliness, Truth will hold us together.  

I am so excited for women to read Corrie's book with this study.  My hope in writing it is that we will not just hear her story and think, "She is amazing."  But we will hear her story and wonder, "If God was real for Corrie Ten Boom and that is the same God that I love and serve - then .... is He that real for me ... and what does that mean?" 

Consider what happens if we all really let ourselves enter in to those questions.

I am sometimes so overwhelmed by His realness that it nearly hurts.  

And other times, I am overwhelmed by five kids, dinner prep, and a husband who is gone with work for two weeks. 

And other times I am overwhelmed with the pain that my friends are carrying, and the daunting call of living in this world.  

And other times, I am so busy I don't have time to overwhelmed by anything. 

I am so excited for women to read this study because in those other times we all need someone to remind us what this is actually all about.  To believe for us when we are too tired, too scared, too full of our own selves to see this God who is real and moving and calling us to His love.  

Thank you Jordan for all of your love and support and for being that reminder to me so often.  I am so blessed by this ever growing list of people who are making it happen. 

God this is for you and because of you....

T-minus 21  - Bring it on! 

with love - j.l.mikel

Beautiful Red Ink

I was taught in college, while studying to be a teacher, that red ink is harmful to a student's psyche and that when correcting papers, you should use green or maybe even blue, which do not generate immediate feelings of wrongness and shame.
I suppose there is a lot of good psychology and study put into that point, and using multi-faceted ways to correct is just fine - not my point at all.

My point is that tonight I get to read a copy of God is Real, fully edited and marked to the nines with beautiful red ink (well actually, beautiful red font, but ink just sounds so much more poetic). I have prayed for help editing this book because every single time, I open the document to look for mistakes like spelling errors and run-ons, I end up doing an entire rewrite.  And, while that is a good part of the process, at some point you have to stop, and get someone else's objective eyes on the copy.

Then a friend introduced me to Tina Schieferstein; the woman with the glorious last name and years of editing experience.   Tonight, Tina sent me a copy of God is Real finished and ready for me to read through, and it is full of beautiful red ink - and the power of reading the study through someone else's objective eyes.

I do not want to sound over spiritual, but can I make a link to real life here - (**Life Application Alert**)  We do not need to be afraid of red ink.  We do not need to be ashamed.
I have lived so many years of my life afraid of someone else catching my mistake before I had a chance to fix it.  It was subtle, but it was also consuming.

I didn't just contain this mindset to my work, it started to spill over into my marriage, my parenting, my friendships, and most quietly, my relationship with God.  I was so afraid to fail.
I kept praying to God to confess about my weakness and my fear and my wrong attitude - and to thank Him for His love and His grace.  And then I would ask Him to help me get better and I would promise Him that I would work harder.

"Please, don't check my paper yet; I just need one more day to make it right"...."Please let me know when you are coming home from work; I just need one more hour to get the house in order"..... "Please don't need something else from me; I just have one more thing to finish first." "Please"...."Please"..."Please don't look yet - I'm not good enough."
I mistook red ink for disapproval and disappointment, a sure sign that next I would hear the thing I thought to be true all along, "You were almost someone worthwhile Jodi....I was almost able to use you....If you only could have been more...."

Here is the irony, the red ink was to show me that I needed Him.  In all of my effort to be better, to do more, I had started to believe that needing Him was the failure.
That is not the life that Jesus came to give.

And today, a few years older, I thank my gracious Lord that I can know, Tina's red ink is not shame; rather, it is hope.  And engaging in the "less than perfect" will lead me to the One who is perfect - the only One that can make me perfect - In His love - By His blood - and for His glory. Amen!

Mail Date is soon folks - T-Minus 23 days - Let's do this thing!