Faithwalk – EAST WILLOW PLACE

New Hope for When You’re Weary & Discouraged

The guys were taking a night to try to find normal again.

A crazy rollercoaster of experiences and emotions in the last couple weeks had shattered their world – and now they still felt unsure of which way was up. More importantly, they were unsure of what they should do next.

So they went fishing – something they knew well, something routine and ordinary.

But things still seemed askew and off – because no matter their efforts and expertise, after working all night there were only dripping empty nets, growling stomachs, and bleary, red-rimmed eyes in the grey, early morning light.

Then, a stranger walking in the early morning mist on the nearby shore called out in a friendly, fatherly way, “Hey guys, catch anything?”

Ruefully they called back, “Nope, nothing – not even after being out all night!”

Probably with a smile in his voice, the stranger called back, “Try the right side of the boat.”

Maybe they rolled their eyes at this advice, maybe they were too tired and hopeless to argue. Maybe they figured it was just so inane it was worth a shot, so they did as he said…

And immediately their net almost slipped from their hands with the weight of the heavy catch of fish that filled it to nearly bursting.

Then – after recognizing the stranger as Jesus, their newly-risen Savior and Teacher – the suddenly rejoicing, energized men were welcomed from the coldness of the morning sea to a brightly flickering fire on the beach.

Then Jesus himself, the Lord of life and Creator of the Universe, served them a hot breakfast of grilled fish and bread. (John 21:1-13)

He who should have been served instead tenderly served the same men who had recently abandoned him, denied him, and hid from being recognized as his followers. He who could have sharply reproached instead showed heart-breaking kindness.

This gracious, humble, and loving Savior is the one who cares for you and me in all our weakness and brokenness and strugglings today. When we work wearily without success, when we feel hopeless and uncertain and discouraged – He is the one who asks us to tell the truth of our lack (“Nope, we got nothing!”), and then to try again – with him.

Any outcome of our efforts is his gift. “For without me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5)

And then he welcomes us to sit with him and be warmed and fed – and he himself serves us.

This is our Lord – and in his kindness he is lovely beyond words.

I pray that you are comforted and fed today in the rich satisfaction of knowing the kindness of our King – and find in his kindness the hope to go on.

_{-Wear your crown. Carry your sword.}
Maria

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How to Be the Story of the Glorious Kingdom, Part 3

… We are citizens of heaven, and are called to live in a manner worthy of our King and his Kingdom (Philippians 1:27).

So how do we do this?

The simple answer is far from easy: We become the People of his Book.

To consider the Holy Bible as the highest treasure of our hearts and the strongest connection to our King and our homeland is the simplest, most straight-forward way to live out our calling as Ambassadors.

The Spirit-inspired Scriptures are to be in our thoughts, words and actions – every day. We need to carefully, sincerely, and reverently read them, ponder them and pray them. We are to sing them, teach them, write them and live them.

But most of all, we are to love the Scriptures – because if we do, the rest will follow.

"And now, what does the LORD your God require of you? He requires only that you fear the LORD your God, and live in a way that pleases him, and love him and serve him with all your heart and soul. And you must always obey the LORD's commands and decrees that I am giving you today for your own good." (Deuteronomy 10:12-13)

Ambassadors appointed on behalf of their nation do not lose their distinctive language, traditions, customs, philosophies or citizenship merely because they are stationed in a foreign country. On the contrary – it is because they are constantly representing their homeland and government that they remain unmistakably different from the local culture around them.

We are called to live unmistakably different lives as citizens of Heaven.

We have been given the “Protocol Guidebook” of our nation’s customs, language, history, beliefs and laws – it deserves our daily, intentional, devoted study and thought. How else will we understand our own King’s laws? Speak our country’s language? How else can we explain to others why they should want to immigrate there, or how our King vastly surpasses any other ruler in excellence? How else can we accurately disciple and mentor other younger citizens (our children or any given to us to teach) so that they can one day fill their own appointments in their own embassies?

This should be our passionate desire – to be so deeply steeped in the Book of our King that if he should come on a visit of State, we would not be ashamed by how we have been representing him, but delighted to introduce the One we have so faithfully served to those around us.

And what joy to have those people say – “Now we believe, not just because of what you told us, but because we have heard him ourselves. Now we know that he is indeed the Savior of the world.” (John 4:42)

Wear your crown. Carry your sword. – Maria

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The Story of the Glorious Kingdom, Part Two

Photo by Luis Fernando Felipe Alves on Unsplash

If you, like me, claim Jesus to be your Savior and King, the Story of the Glorious Kingdom (click on it to read if you missed it!) is not just a fairy tale.

It’s OUR story.

WE have been set free from the dark kingdom and are now commissioned as Ambassadors of the Glorious Kingdom. This is OUR King’s book, written in the language of the Kingdom, carrying His instructions and teaching us all we need to carry out our calling as His representatives.

The definition of “Ambassador” is: a person of high-rank appointed by their ruler to represent them and their country for a special and temporary assignment in a foreign country. (I checked Wikipedia)

This is the perfect description for who we are called to be as followers of Christ:

Adopted into his family as sons and daughters of the Most High God (Ephesians 1:4-5) – we’re nobility personified! We are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, Peter says (1 Peter 2:9) – those called to mediate between God and the people who don’t yet know him as King.

We’ve been appointed to represent our ruler and his kingdom: 2 Corinthians 5:18-20 says God has given us this task of reconciling people to him, emphatically stating: “We are Christ’s ambassadors.”

It’s a unique assignment to each of us, because we each are unique creations, specially placed in the circumstances, locations, and in the communities we are because we each have a unique work to do: 1 Corinthians 12:12-26 compares us as a group of believers as a body with many varied parts, all working to accomplish a unified goal. Ephesians 2:10 declares we each have been created in Christ Jesus to do the good works that God himself prepared before time for us each to do!

It’s a temporary assignment because we each don’t know how long we have or when we will be either placed somewhere else, or called back to our homeland. Our lives are not our own, and tomorrow is not promised. Therefore we work each day we’ve been given as best we can, knowing we might be called home tomorrow! Psalm 90:12 prays that we might know the brevity of our lives and live wisely because of it.

We’re to consider ourselves as foreigners and outsiders because this world is not our home and we are not to hold onto it too tightly – we are citizens of heaven, and are called to live in a manner worthy of our King and his Kingdom (Philippians 1:27). 1 Peter 2:11 exhorts, “Dear friends, I warn you as temporary residents and foreigners to keep away from the worldly desires that wage war against your souls. Be careful to live properly among your unbelieving neighbors… [so that] they will give honor to God when he judges the world.”

And the question likely burning in your mind now is… “HOW? How do we do this?” (Stay tuned…)

Wear your crown. Carry your sword. – Maria

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Relief = Happy? Maybe Not – What You REALLY Need Instead

We humans can be so short-sighted.

In a challenging situation or a season of suffering or hardship, all we care about is obtaining relief – and we think that if the challenge were to be removed, suddenly everything would be great. We would be so happy!

But is that true?

Exodus 17:1-7, written by Moses, tells about a time when the people of Israel camp in the wilderness at a location called Rephidim. “At the Lord’s command,” the text declares emphatically.

So what’s the problem?

There was no water at Rephidim.

For a large community of people, children, and animals, that’s a big problem.

Please note that these are the exact same people who saw the terrors of the ten plagues in Egypt and then the parting of the Red Sea only a few weeks prior. These folks saw the hand of God move mightily on their behalf, and have been following the moving pillars of cloud and fire – physical manifestations of God’s guidance – through the wilderness.

So with this new challenge, what do they do? They quickly turn in angry complaints to Moses, demanding for him to give them water.

Moses warns them to be quiet – clearly wanting them to respectfully ask and patiently wait to see the provision of God (as he had done so powerfully before), and reminds them not to test God.

But when they continue to feel the torment of strong thirst – they not only continue to argue but they attribute Moses (and therefore God, who is directing him) with harmful, hateful intent, saying “Why did you bring us out of Egypt? Are you trying to kill us, our children and our livestock with thirst?” (Exodus 17: 3)

Their discomfort and suffering completely overwhelmed them – all they could focus on was their current misery and how it would vanish with what they craved – water.

The beleaguered Moses cries out to God asking what to do – and God tells him. “Walk out in front of the people. They accused me publicly, they will be answered publicly. Take the same staff that struck the Nile and turned water to blood – and bring some of the elders to join you. I will stand before you on the rock at Mount Sinai. Strike the rock, and the water will come gushing out – and then the people will be able to drink.” (Exodus 17: 5-6, my paraphrase)

Did you see that?

God himself would stand on the rock that would gush out water.

Why?

Because what the people needed more than water was the Presence of God.

In our own ongoing struggles, the challenges and sufferings of life in a sin-darkened world, it is so very easy to be forgetful of what we know to be true.

God is always and has always been faithful, AND it is by his direct guidance that we are exactly where we are in this place of lack or suffering or hardship.

Therefore it means we are to stop blaming other people, stop accusing God of harmful intent or careless indifference, and smash our idols of perceived comfort and relief.

Because what we need most, no matter how much we crave other things, is not relief from the suffering – it is HIMSELF.

David wrote Psalm 63 during his own time in the wilderness – I encourage you to pull out a Bible and pray this Psalm for yourself, asking the Spirit to make it genuinely true for your heart:

“Oh God, you are my God; I earnestly search for you. My soul thirsts for you; my whole body longs for you in this parched and weary land where there is no water…  Your unfailing love is better than life itself; how I praise you!” (Psalm 63:1,3)

May we be a people who can sing this up to him in truth – even in a wilderness of no water and with suffering – that we find our God and his love better than life itself.

Wear your crown, carry your sword. – Maria

*(_{This post was inspired by John Piper’s excellent sermon “Water from the Rock for Undeserving People” from August 11, 2022, found here.})

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Overcome Fear – Live Life with Strong Courage

A Story of a Young Queen & Her Triumph Over Fear of Death

Once there was a beautiful little girl who was raised in exile by her older cousin because her parents were dead and their homeland was far away. She was given a new name, spoke the language of her new country, and was taught to never share her ethnic background.

One day, as a lovely young woman, she was unexpectedly forced into a mandatory national beauty contest for all young women in the land. Despite the fierce competition, she won! She suddenly gained a crown, a palace, a position as Queen of all the land – and a king for a husband, notorious for his temper and tyranny.

Soon afterwards, an evil nobleman favored by the king rose in authority and used his influence to schedule a massive genocide of a certain people group he hated – little realizing it was the people of the new queen.

Urged by her cousin to use her royal position to plead for mercy from the king, the young queen was shaken and afraid. The king had not asked to see her for over a month, already seemingly indifferent to his new bride. To enter his court without being summoned was punishable by death for the reckless disrespect it showed.

Once again the cousin repeated his urging – if not her, who? If not now, when? Be certain, he warned, that if she remained silent and did nothing to stop this evil, God would indeed save their people by other means, while she would surely be destroyed for her inaction in this crisis – along with all her family.

Taking a deep breath, the queen accepted her role as advocate for her doomed people, asking only that they first fervently pray for her for three days. Then she would approach the king in his court, illegal though it might be, and risk the outcome – even her own death.

Today is the first day of Purim, the feast of Queen Esther, the courageous queen who acted with wisdom and discernment in interceding for the very lives of her people in the face of what seemed certain death. God – who had made an unbreakable promise to Abraham that the entire world would be blessed through his family – brought salvation to his chosen people, and eventually to the entire world through the birth of the Jewish Messiah Jesus years later.

While her predicament might seem unrelatable in some ways – not many of us will ever experience pleading for the lives of our people from a despotic king at the risk of our own – if we look at the heart of her fear we can suddenly relate quite well.

What was she so afraid of?

Dying – losing her life and thereby losing everything. Yet her death was inevitable – as is yours and mine. Trying to escape death is futile – it will eventually come (unless the Lord returns first).

What matters is what is done in the time before we die.

What makes the time you have here before your death worthwhile?

What has God called you to and shaped you for? What unique situation and role has been set before you in this season of your life?

What have you been given to do that might scare you? Where have you been called to advocate or shine where you would rather stay silent and hidden?

We will all die. This life is a gift of an hourglass and we all don’t get to know how many grains of sand are left for each of us before we are called home and we fly away (Psalm 90).

What we can do is to be like Queen Esther: Let us first seek our Father-King’s favor and the strength that he gives, pleading with him daily for the wisdom to walk the unique role set before us. Then, let us put on our royal best and, with gracious humility and poise, ACT.

We are not called to live this life safely and silently.

The outcome is not in our hands but the story will not be as satisfying without our courageous actions being part of it.

Perhaps this is the moment for which YOU have been created.
(Paraphrase of Esther 4:14)

And by “perhaps”, I mean: It is. You have been placed in this time and this place for a purpose. Fight the fear.

Live courageously.

We are not promised tomorrow.

_{Wear Your Crown, Carry Your Sword. – Maria Miller}

How to Find New Hope in Homeschooling Your Child

I Was Ready to Quit Homeschooling – Then I Read This Book

“I want to quit.” I said to my husband, grimly blinking back tears. “I hate homeschooling.”

Shoulders hunched in defeat, brow furrowed with frustration, heart full of self-reproach, I was not only on the struggle-bus, I was driving it. Off a cliff.

Homeschooling a slew of kids (I have eight – at the time of this story, my youngest was an infant, my oldest was ten) while also managing a busy home with a baby and two toddlers was slowly but surely burying me under a crushing load of my own expectations, along with all the dirty laundry, dishes, diapers, and dinners.

We had always wanted to homeschool – before we even had kids we had planned to homeschool.

We always had homeschooled, from when my tribe only consisted of two tiny girls who were excited by reading lessons and practicing writing letters and numbers, all the way through growing from those two kids to eight altogether.

But now?

I wept in utter discouragement and exhaustion to my husband at night: “I just don’t think I’m doing this right. I don’t think I know how to do this. I can’t keep up. I think I’m not teaching them enough. I’m not doing enough. I don’t think I’m good enough to be their teacher. I can’t even keep up with the laundry!”

He quietly listened, held me, and then, a couple days later, he gave me an incredible gift: Homeschool Bravely, by Jamie Erickson, herself a former elementary teacher, and a homeschool mama of five.

I had never heard of it.

I read through the chapters carefully, slowly, often with tears of relief and comfort at the encouragement, understanding, and gentle wisdom I found.

This woman understood the struggle I was in. She addressed so many of the situations and questions I struggled with while giving so much grace for each family’s unique situation and personality.

I read and reread parts when I was gritty with frustration and discouragement, each time finding hope and courage to keep going.

The best part?

I was reminded of why I was doing this in the first place – It refreshed my heart and renewed my purpose. And I was set free from the guilt and burden of my own heavy expectations that were not something I should have picked up in the first place.

Most of all, Jamie’s book reminded me of who I was – beloved and precious in the sight of my Father God – and that my status with Him is not dependent on how I homeschool. My feelings of failure, discouragement and defeat in homeschooling did not reflect my worth or my identity as a child of God.

If you are in the need of some real in-the-trenches help and hope from a mom who’s been there and writes honestly and lovingly, I think this is one book every homeschool mom should read.

Find your courage, refresh your heart, restore your confidence as you teach your precious kids at home. Homeschool Bravely helps you do all three.

You can do this, whether it’s for a short season or for a long haul.

You have a community of encouraging, wise, and heart-filling homeschooling mamas walking this road too.

I will always be grateful that one of them took the time to write this book for the rest of us.

(Thank you, Jamie! Your words poured strength, courage, and hope back into my heart when I needed it most. I will always be deeply grateful.)

_{I wrote this post out of a genuine desire to help other mamas find the hope and help they need in homeschooling their kids and did not in any way receive any compensation, monetary or otherwise, from Jamie Erickson. Just sayin’.}

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How Your Little Kindnesses Make Big Impact in Life

I was often the shortest kid in my classes at school. Since my birthday was in the summer, I was usually one of the youngest as well. And since I was also insecure and shy, it just made sense that I would be a lackey to another kid who was more of a leader.

So, at age six, attending an international school in Hong Kong, I was a weak-willed follower of a charismatic, taller, lovely bully (I’ll call her Lana) who domineered my recess times and dictated my interactions with the other kids for many months.

(We finally broke off our relationship when I stood up to her one day and she then punched me ferociously in the stomach, but that’s another story.)

During the course of my friendship with Lana, for no discernable reason that I can fathom, a boy in one of the older classes (4 grades above mine) took an interest in Lana and me. During recess he would often stroll over (looking very tall to my eyes) to where we were, to say hello and chat with us (specifically me) in a friendly way.

His name was Ben, and his kind face and friendly questions were deeply surprising to me, since I had not imagined that I was worth the notice or time of anyone in any of the older classes.

After the first startling encounter and initial suspicious thoughts (Why is this older boy talking to me? Is he trying to make fun of me in some way?), I began to relax, feeling that he was safe, that I could trust his kindness.

Lana kept a tight control on our interactions, however, and I don’t recall any conversation with him that she didn’t attempt to control.

Once, near the Christmas holidays, two cards were delivered to our class by someone from the upper grades – one for Lana, and one for me. I had no idea who would have sent me a card, and was thrilled and delighted when I opened it and saw it was from Ben, wishing me a happy Christmas.

When Ben found us on the playground later that week, and asked if we had received his cards, I looked up and said, “Yes!” I don’t remember if I said thank you, but I wanted to.

Lana, however, jabbed me in my side, narrowed her eyes at me, and quickly lied, “No, we haven’t!” and I looked at her, startled, but was afraid to contradict her and risk her anger. So I weakly parroted, “No, we haven’t…”

Ben, looking displeased and disappointed, said directly to me, “You don’t have to do everything she says, you know,” and then walked away. I was embarrassed and sorry. I don’t think he ever spoke to me after that.

That term was his last at our school, and I never saw him again. But I have always remembered him.

Ben’s seemingly small, insignificant kindnesses to me were not small or insignificant.

Having a stranger demonstrate that I had value and merited time and kindness – through no effort of my own – was deeply impactful in a season where I felt unseen and of little worth.

He had no way of knowing that at that time in my life, my parents were going through significant marital trouble, and my home life was unsettled and tense. Lana’s friendship was conditional and I was constantly afraid of displeasing her. I had no other close friends.

Whether or not Ben knew it, I believe God used him to show me His love in that time. And I will always remember it with sincere gratitude.

We often carry hidden hurt places and unseen heavy burdens. It is not always the big things that bring solace, but the little kindnesses that can give the strength to take another step, another breath, to get through the hard of each day.

It’s important that you and I remember to not trivialize the potential impact of the little things we do.

The smiles we give, the kind words we say, the small graces and little gifts of attention and love – these can be immensely powerful and deeply life-giving to the hearts and lives we touch – whether our own family or perfect strangers.

We may never truly know or understand the repercussions of our actions, but the Father of us all sees and knows – and He may be placing us exactly where we are to be His gentle hands, His whispered kindness, His smiling eyes to the broken and aching people around us.

(Ben, thank you. I felt God’s love in your kindness. I’m sorry it’s taken over thirty years to tell you. I pray for you to this day.)

“And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!’” (Matthew 25:40, NLT)

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Broken & Beautiful: How to Hold Hope in the Imperfection

I felt quiet and sad. I was nine, and my only close friend was moving far away. Because I moved so much as a child, it was hard to make close friends. And by “moved” I mean different hemisphere moves, not different states or cities.

It didn’t help that I was shy, awkward, and mostly lonely. So I was almost pathetically grateful anytime another kid was friendly to me and showed kindness.

This friend had been especially sweet, and I wanted to give her a goodbye present to show her how much I cared about her – one that she could keep to remember me by.

Asking my dad to purchase a gift was out of the question: money was always tight and he would inevitably say the same thing he always did: “Make something yourself!”

I found the idea in a book of creating a little bird in a nest, using a blown egg and a little piece of egg carton. I painstakingly went through each step by myself, poking a tiny hole in the top and bottom of the egg and blowing it out of the shell, then letting it dry. I painted the eggshell a lovely aqua blue, glued on a little paper beak and two soft black paper eyes, and made a little “nest” with a painted brown cup of an egg carton, carefully gluing the egg-chick in place.

I was utterly delighted with my special gift, and very proud of my handiwork – especially since I had done it all by myself. I excitedly envisioned my friend’s joy on receiving her present.

The last day I would see my friend was on Sunday at church. That morning my dad, siblings and I all rushed out to the car to drive to church, running a few minutes late. I had grabbed the little chick and the card I had made, and placed them carefully inside the car next to my seat. Then, as I got in, I unthinkingly put my hand down to fasten the seat belt – and smashed the chick.

I was too stunned to cry, and too grief stricken to speak.

There was no point in crying. There was nothing to say.

We were already late for church, my friend was moving away the very next day, and there was no time to create anything new for her. All my hard work and loving effort was gone, and I had nothing tangible to show for it except crushed fragments of a lovely aqua blue. And it was my fault.

I have felt like that little nine year old often throughout my life. (Have you?)

I have an idea or a hope of how something I do will turn out, especially since as a believer I know that what I carry out each day is supposed to be to the glory of God.

But then, often inadvertently, I feel like I clumsily end up ruining it somehow. The gift that I had wanted to give to God of my day or my effort ends up so much less than I had hoped: a broken, shattered version of what I had envisioned. Things sometimes just end up sort of smashed and irreversibly damaged.

This is where it takes sheer stubbornness to hold on to what I know is true: God sees my heart, and He knows my intentions and yearnings. Even in the brokenness, He sees the love that I hold in my heart for Him when I offer what I have as a worship to Him. And therefore what I do has value and meaning to Him when I work out of a desire to honor Him with it.

What you do, how you faithfully keep going with your work and how you live your days – it matters.

When we deliberately choose to see our lives as something we offer up to God, even in its broken imperfection, He takes our love-gift and gauges it with a metric of grace.

As one of my favorite song lyrics say,

“So take my broken offering and make it whole/ And set my feet upon the road that leads me home/ Let me walk as one fixed upon the goal / Even though I’ve got a thousand miles to go.”

_{(Caedmon’s Call, “Thousand Miles”, Back Home, Essential Records. 2003)}

Even in those moments when all we think we hold is a crushed little egg-chick, He sees the time, care, intent, and the love that we truly offer.

“So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up.”
Galatians 6:9, NLT

– Maria

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A Heart of Unusual Grit: A Look at Courageous Thankfulness

One of my lovely daughters is blessed with a forelock.

That is to say, she has a patch of thick hair from above her forehead that grows forward rather than backwards. Even as an infant she began resembling Highland cattle, and I was tying her hair back from a very early age so we could see her eyes. (Or she looked like this:)

(Highland Cattle – photo by Shane Aldendorff on Unsplash)

The other morning, as I was trying to quickly get through brushing and tying up the various girls’ hair (I have on average 3-4 daughters who still require help), I got to this particular daughter. She clearly and politely requested only two ponytails, but I knew from experience that this would not work with her particular head. The forelock was a factor, and needed its own individual tie. So I made a small ponytail at the top of her head to wrangle the forelock into control, then incorporated it into the two larger pony tails that she had asked for.

Then she realized what I had done.

In short: Devastation.

I had used THREE and not TWO hair ties, disregarding her request.

Huge eyes welled up with tears, little shoulders hunched, lower lip out, while gusty sobs began, showing just how much I had disappointed her.

Staring at her in mild astonishment, I watched as enormous tears streamed down her face. She dropped to the ground and wept, apparently inconsolable. This continued for about thirty seconds. Which seemed a lot longer than it was.

Finally, with some moderate impatience (yes, I’m not a perfect mom), I said, “Can you please just stop crying and say ‘Thank you’?!”

She needed her hair tied up. I knew what was going to work best for her and what would last throughout her busy day playing, and I had given her a very cute hairstyle. She had no real reason to cry, and should instead be grateful for my loving care.

Then it struck me: I think this is something God wants to say to me sometimes:

“Can you please just stop crying and say, ‘Thank you’?!”

I have my idea of how something should go. I have my plan that I think is the right way, the perfect path, the only option I find acceptable. And I’ve asked Him for it politely, or just merely expect it because it’s the thing that will make me happy. Since I see no reason why it shouldn’t happen, I calmly await the certain delivery of my (ahem) “request”.

Then when I get something different, or it’s not what I had hoped, or I walk through unexpected loss or hurt, I am devastated by the pain and disappointment.

But knowing Who God is, knowing that He knows infinitely more than I, that He understands all the microscopic nuances of my life and its outcomes, I am showing a blatant lack of trust in my Father when I don’t say, “Thank you.”

Even if it wasn’t what I wanted.

Even if it makes me sad, or I don’t understand, or I wish it were different.

Those feelings can be there, but I can still choose to declare my gratitude to the Father who is working for my good, because I love Him and I know I am given a purpose in His Kingdom (Romans 8:28).

The command to “give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ” (Ephesians 5:20, NLT) leaves no room for my feelings, as much as I may rebel and writhe with the apparent callous indifference to them.

If I want to be obedient to God’s Word, this is a direct choice I must make, regardless of how I feel.

Easy? More like terrifying and incredibly difficult.

Yet I must draw a line in the sand and decide in my heart whether or not I believe that my Creator God is truly the kind, all-knowing, always inherently loving Father the Bible says He is, and thank Him for what He has allowed to be for me and my loved ones.

Or I don’t, and thereby deliberately choose to disobey this clear command.

This is not comfortable.

This is not a placid, soft, warm-and-squishy kind of thankfulness when I’m feeling happy and things are going my way.

This is where my trust in this God I cannot see becomes the granite of reality and I obstinately choose to believe Him and His Word over my emotions, my experiences, and even my own understanding.

Like my little girl, I need to choose to stop crying and say “Thank you.” This is where the sacrifice comes in my “sacrifice of thanksgiving”.

As King David said, “I will not present offerings that cost me nothing.” (1 Chronicles 21:24)

May God graciously grant you and I the courageous hearts and flinty-faced grit to be thankful for truly everything.

“But giving thanks is a sacrifice that truly honors me. If you keep to my path, I will reveal to you the salvation of God.”
(Psalm 50:23, NLT)

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Hungry? A Hidden Surprise Feast for Your Heart

One of my favorite short animated films is “Piper”, from Pixar Films. It tells the story of a sandpiper chick urged by its mother to leave its safe warm sandy nest and begin digging for clams with the rest of the flock down by the shore.

At first, the reluctant chick assumes its mother will still feed it. When the mother instead shows the chick to search for clams in the wet sand, the chick looks askance, but hesitatingly tries – without success.

Completely oblivious to its surroundings, the chick suddenly realizes that the rest of the flock have retreated… and by itself, is knocked over by a wave of cold seawater.

Shivering, sodden, scared, the chick huddles back in its nest, when the mother gently encourages it to come out and try again. Its growling belly shows the growing need to find food.

This time, almost incapacitated by fear and dread, the chick cowers higher on the shore – when it meets a little hermit crab stolidly making its way down to the water.

Following, curious but still cautious, the chick watches as the crab spies a wave coming. Instead of running, it simply burrows down to create a safe nook to hide from the sweep of the water. Unable to escape in time from the wave, the chick quickly copies the crab’s methods, digging itself down into the wet sand just as the wave rushes over the pair, engulfing them both.

The chick hunkers underwater, eyes closed tight, trying to survive till the water recedes. Unexpectedly, the crab taps on the sandpiper’s beak. The chick opens its eyes and to the piper’s astonished gaze, the sandy floor under the water is rich with many clams, each having risen to the surface. As the wave washes back out, the clams begin to retreat below the surface again, digging down deeper, hidden once more.

This little underwater glimpse is electrifying to the sandpiper chick – and the change is extraordinary!

Gone is the little cowering, shivering, fearful chick who hides in the safety and warmth of its nest and is fed by someone else. Suddenly, the chick is energized, knowing where to find the largest clams! Running and piping with delight, it even brings an enormous clam to its mother, so large that several other sandpipers join the feast.

The little piper is still soaking wet. It is still being hit by incessant, cold waves. But now the piper is joyful, revitalized, and is no longer hungry. Instead of avoiding the waves, it realizes that they are rich opportunities for nourishment.

I can relate so well to that little sandpiper. I too often long to stay in the safety and comfort of a warm, sunny nest. I am perfectly content to avoid the cold of suffering and challenges – even while I grow hungry.

Yet when God, like a loving mama sandpiper, nudges me out of my comfort zone and I somewhat uncertainly (and often reluctantly) follow Him down to the shore, I still often expect to be completely coddled, expecting warmth, ease, and safety…

Then when frustrations, disappointments, and difficulties smack me down like chilling salt waves, I too want to give up and run far, far away, back to the shelter of the dry nest and comfortably starve.

Yet, God keeps encouraging me to start living as I was meant to be, growing in maturity and wisdom, learning how to find and consume what is most nourishing to my soul – and it’s down by the water’s edge, not up in the barren nest.

Then, in a time of apparent hardship or difficulty, completely certain that I am unable to breathe or survive in the suffocating cold flooding my senses, He also gently helps me to open my eyes in the middle of it… and reveals a feast of strength and plenty that wouldn’t otherwise be accessible to me unless I was there under the water.

In the time of hard there is nourishment. In the experiences of difficulty there is fulfillment, and in the times of loss God provides for your heart. He knows what is best for us, and He knows what we need. In His care, “even the hard pathways overflow with abundance.” (Psalm 65:11, NLT)

In our experiences that knock us over and threaten to overwhelm, if we open our eyes to Him in trust instead of fear, we will discover an entirely new strength – and even though we might still be outwardly wet, cold, bedraggled, and look a little crazy, we will have deep joy and full hearts, with plenty to share for others.

A person who is full refuses honey, but even bitter food tastes sweet to the hungry.
Proverbs 27:7, NLT

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