When You Are Weary and You Must Keep Going

What do you do when you are bone weary and like an active volcano that is simmering deep below the surface that could erupt at any moment?

When signs of spring and new life seem slow to appear?

When you have heard hard words thrown at you from your own flesh and blood, but you know it is the truth spoken, and you deserve every hit?

When you sit down as the late afternoon sun beams through the back door and warms your back and the kids are jumping and laughing on the trampoline and you pull out your pen and journal and you cry out and your heart bleeds onto the pages and you admit that you are just a mess and feel like a failure and you really hate what you've become?

When you are empty and exhausted and broken and you have to keep going?

And then you see the fork in the road?

You need to keep on continuing, but you need to make a change at the same time.

There is a choice to make.

There is a fork in the road, and in life it really does make a difference which one you choose.

You can continue on this road mumbling or you can fight for joy.

But in fighting, you are really surrendering.

The fight has already been won, and you need to live the victorious life.

So . . . 

Stop complaining and choose joy.

Stop grumbling and delight in the goodness of the Lord God.

Stop following after your own heart and follow hard after God's heart.

Stop barely coping and boldly come to the throne of grace and commune with God. 


Stop trying to love others in your own strength and let God love through you.

O satisfy us in the morning with Your lovingkindness, That we may sing for joy and be glad all our days.

Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, 

that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

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My sister told me to listen to this song that night before I turned out my light.
I have been redeemed and I no longer need to fight this fight that has already been won and no, God is not done with me yet!

How about you? Do you need to shake off heavy chains?
And live in the victory ~  recognizing that it is a moment by moment dependence on Him?
And give God thanks that He has redeemed you?



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Words of Wisdom for the Weekend: Silence

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"  . . . the true can afford to be quiet and finds silence to be its wisdom. Evidently our Lord, by Himself, furnished a remarkable fulfillment of prophecy. A long defense of Himself would have been contrary to Isaiah's prediction. 'He is led as a lamb to the slaughter, and as a sheep before her shearers is dumb, so he opened not his mouth.' By His quiet, He conclusively proved Himself to be the true Lamb of God. As such we salute Him this morning. Be with us, Jesus, and in the silence of our heart, let us hear the voice of Thy love."

~ Charles Spurgeon 'Morning by Morning'

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{Words for Wisdom for the Weekend: These are words that I have been challenged or encouraged by that I have read throughout my week that I kept pondering; words that I couldn't get off my mind and heart throughout my week. 

For other Words of Wisdom for the Weekend posts see here.}

**I should be posting a video of Romans 1:1-25, but I have to confess that I am behind and will keep working on it and hope to post one next month!! Not quitting yet!!

Five Minute Friday: After

I can't seem to loosen the grip of the icy cold fingers of fear. Spring is in the air and I breath it in. But I choke on the remnants of winter.

My heart races. I arrive at the gym after lunch and my resting heart rate is 120 bpm. I knew it was beating fast. Yes, I have some medical issues, but this I'm sure is from stresses of life.

It may not seem like it on the outside, but on the inside I am a mess.

The pressure to get out of the house for the local music festival and make sure that my children remained quiet as clearly noted on the door of the auditorium as we entered it.

My son was to play a simple piece and he knew it well, but my nerves for him were still as active as my little pianist.

He played well and threw in his bow as he finished his song and all he cared about in the end was his certificate.

The following day we returned to the festival for my daughter and she too had these fingers of fear gripping her and she had a hard time even getting through the day as she knew she had to perform in the afternoon.

My heart thumped in my chest all day until it was all over and I was off on my own to recover. And I didn't even have to perform.

Why do I worry so much about how it will all turn out? Why do I let the stress of it get to me?

For what will it all matter after it is all done?

::

But this is a life-long struggle I deal with. Letting go of the besetting sins of fear and anxiety.

Oh, how I need to throw these aside. Cling to the cross that Jesus carried for me. Just as Simon carried the cross after Jesus, I too, need to pick up the cross, confess these sins that so easily entangle me.

We have not been promised a life without sorrow, but we are to pick up our cross after Jesus carried it out to Golgotha for me and live in the abundant life that He gives after the resurrection. For the way of the cross is that life does come after death.

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Reflecting and writing on the word prompt given here for Five Minute Friday at Lisa-Jo's place. 

This week the prompt is: After

Officially, the rules are:

1. Write for 5 minutes (A few weeks ago, I made this confession that I don't always exactly keep to the five minutes. )

2. Link up at Lisa-Jo's  and invite others to join in.

3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community...

Intentional Motherhood: Longing for Beauty

 
The timing is impeccable. I am pondering words to offer up for this post when she descends down the stairs looking for me. She is so quiet I don't even hear her until the doorway frames her little frame. She stands there and says nothing; the twinkle in her eyes says it all. 

She's all dressed up with a long flowing blue dress and stickers on her ears for sparkly earrings. Blonde wisps frame her face; some gathered up, but spilling down. The hand-me-down necklace from long ago that looks like diamonds drapes radiance about her neck.

She holds the folds of the dress in her hands and stands there in her splendor and looks up with her sweet face and lifts one hand and uses the back of it to wipe the falling tresses out of her eyes that match her attire.

I'm breathless with the beauty of my little one and I stoop down and I look right in her eyes. I tell her she's beautiful. I tell her she's loved.

Finally she begs the question, "You like it?" She's three and she looking for approval. She didn't even need to ask. I gather her in my arms and tell her again, over and over, that she is beautiful and she is lovely and she is loved!

She skips off, delighting, dancing with a calm and graceful assurance.
 

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Read more at  Finding Heaven, where I am sharing as a guest writer today. Won’t you join me as we seek true beauty? I'd be honored!


Related:
True Beauty ~ Does it Actually Exist?
Being Transformed


{Although this is not from the book, Raising Your Children for Christ, it still very much fits into Intentional Motherhood, so I am keeping it a part of this series.}

New Life and Living Hope Because He Lives

I weep with grief over the generational sin.

It is in my very roots and I try to bury the pain of  it deep.

Yet, at times the messy grief of it all hurts too much and it wells up and seeps like the sap when the nights are cold and the sun warms the days.

I go back to where I feel and see the pain. The snow is away from the trunk of the tree and the woods are murky and slippery, and we collect sap and they pour it out and it boils and steams and gradually becomes sweeter and sweeter.

I have to visit separate places now when I go back.

And I want to avoid it all together. But the promise of beauty in the woods and smoke and sap as well as the children wanting to go lures me.

I focus on the lovely and the wonder of spring and promise. The sun filters through the empty branches with remnants of last years leaves clinging on some.

And I watch her play "Pooh Sticks" and them running through the woods from bucket to bucket. 
We stand by the fire and we taste sweetness on our lips. 
We see our first robin. 
We drive home late under a round moon that is shy of being full by just one night.


And all the while I bury the pain.

I weep with sorrow;

encourage me by your word.

I used to believe that I could simply end it. Refuse to allow this generational sin to enter one more generation. The brokenness rips families apart and I wanted nothing to do with it. I vowed it would stop right here.

But it trickles from generation to generation. As much as I determine not to allow it, my very own children suffer from it too. It doesn't make any sense to them and they wonder at the brokenness of it all. After all, it is our very inheritance.

I see the spile drilled deep to let the sap-water weep out of the age-old sugar maple and the steel bucket collecting each drop that runs up from the roots. The tree brings forth life in the spring and I know the golden sweetness promised in the colourless sugar-water.

As life cycles each year we have vivid reminders that there is new life and hope and redemption and resurrection. But before life comes death.


It was on a tree that a ransom was paid and resurrection life and hope were made possible.

For you know that God paid a ransom to save you from the empty life you inherited from your ancestors. And the ransom he paid was not mere gold or silver.

It was His precious blood that ran down from His wounds and stained the wood and removes the stain from me.

He endured unspeakable agony for my sake. As I look to the cross, the red that flowed there I see His great mercy. He has caused me to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.

Christ's gracious sacrifice breaks the power of generational sin.

It is only through the blood spilled and the ransom paid and repentance that will bring the end to the ways inherited.

He knows my pain and my sorrow. He bore it on the tree. He knows the sin and He took it upon Himself.

In His resurrection there is new life and hope and a new way that removes the bitterness of sin and promises the sweetness of salvation.

It is not just by my choosing to refuse it to drip into this next generation, it is looking to the precious blood of the Lamb, the Living One that gives new hope as we seek Him in all our days.

He gathers my tears and cups my face and says 'Look to me and although you may feel the heat of the fire of testing know the sweet promise of your faith being found to result in praise and glory and honour at the revelation of Jesus Christ.'

Indeed, He is Risen!

“But the angel said to the women,

“Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified.

He is not here, for he has risen, as he said.

Come, see the place where he lay.”

Matthew 28:6

“ . . . this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God,

you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.

God raised him up,

loosing the pangs of death,

because it was not possible for him to be held by it.”

Acts 2:23,24

“And God will raise us from the dead by his power, 

just as he raised our Lord from the dead.”

1 Corinthians 6:14

Words of Wisdom for the Weekend: What to do in the Waiting

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" Stone cold. And the stone is closed. Where do I go from here? . . . What do I do? . . . Joseph's stone is like the period that stops the sentence. Boom!--the story's done. and when the story's over, the very air is empty . . . Silence . . . the whole world is a graveyard. Because this is the one that has my Lord . . . 

"Jesus! Jesus! Without you I am nothing in a nowhere! . . . 

"One story is done indeed, my Magdalene, Your're right. You've entered the dark night of the soul.

"But another story--one you cannot conceive of (it's God who conceives it!)--starts at sunrise. And the empty time between, while sadly you prepare the spices, is in fact preparing you! Soon you will change . . . 'As dying, and behold we live;as punished, and yet not killed; as sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as poor, yet making many rich; as having nothing, and yet possessing all things' . . . 

"Come again on Sunday, Mary, and see how it is that God makes saints."

~ Walter Wangerin Jr., 'Reliving the Passion'

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{Words for Wisdom for the Weekend: These are words that I have been challenged or encouraged by that I have read throughout my week that I kept pondering; words that I couldn't get off my mind and heart throughout my week. 

For other Words of Wisdom for the Weekend posts see here.}