Getting into your uncomfort zone

I took my 2 year old into the pool for the first time this week. He's actually been in a pool before, but just on an inflatable mat where my husband and I pushed him around. This time, he was actually in the water. Dressed in his beach gear, wearing a little life vest, I coaxed him down the stairs while he was holding onto the bar, and when it was time to actually get into the water, he wrapped his arms and legs around my body with all his might, screaming every time I motioned him away from me. Finally, my saying, "Buddy, trust me. Mama won't let go" got through to him and he let me establish some space between us. After that, we had such a good time swirling around in the water, and he got to experience his first lesson in swimming.

I kept wondering what would our time have been like had he continued to cling to me? On one hand, he would have still left his comfort zone and gotten in, but on the other, he would have absolutely missed the point of being in a pool. This is like so many things that the Father leads me to, where I'm willing to leave my comfort zone, but if the experience makes me too uncomfortable, I'll wrap around the emotional equivalent of a child's blankey, something safe and familiar, and refuse to let go. I'll rationalize that I absolutely need this, and that without it, I will drown. In those moments, it's not so much about leaving my comfort zone, it's about getting into my uncomfort zone.

In John 9, Jesus comes across a man who was born blind. He spat in some dirt and wiped the mud on the man's eyes. He then told him to go and wash in the pool of Siloam. The man did, and he received his sight. I imagine this man, having heard about Jesus, thinking, "Ok, he's going to touch me and I'll be healed." Letting Jesus put mud on his eyes was definitely out of his comfort zone, as that doesn't seem like the way sight would be restored. But it was when Jesus told him to go wash, he was asked to get into his uncomfort zone, where he would need a friend to walk him through the city with mud over his eyes, probably fielding questions along the way. He could have decided that if Jesus wanted to heal him, he would have just done it and told Jesus thanks, but no thanks. He could have thought Jesus' method was foolish, and wiped the mud off his face and continued his life the way it had always been.

Simply going out of his comfort zone wasn't going to lead him to receiving his sight. He had to decide if Jesus was trustworthy enough to fully embrace the experience he was being asked to. Would he be made a spectacle of gullibility? Or would being made uncomfortable lead to the miraculous healing his heart always desired?

What is God calling you to, that you've dipped your toes in, but haven't dived into? What are you hanging onto that's preventing you from getting your breakthrough? I encourage you today to let some space be established between you and your safety net. Psalm 37 says, "The blameless spend their days under the LORD's care, and their inheritance will endure forever. In times of disaster, they will not wither, in times of famine, they will enjoy plenty" (vs 18 & 19.) It also says that the LORD makes firm the step of the one who delights in Him, and though they stumble, they will not fall, because He upholds them (vs 23 & 24.)

You can open your arms because He's holding onto you. He won't let go. 

Abba, thank you for calling me to greater things. Thank you for giving me the opportunity to partner in receiving all that You have for me. Help me to trust that because You're hanging onto me, I can fully pursue what You're calling me to. May the breakthroughs in my life bring You glory, and be a testimony to many of Your faithfulness. In Jesus' name.

Stay with your brother

My firstborn was the type who occasionally liked to be put down, next to a window, so I imagine he could contemplate all that it meant to be a baby. My second is nothing like that. He likes to be held all the time, and if he can't be, he needs to be as close to someone else as possible. When no one is in his range of sight, he starts to cry a wail that I can only describe as expressing forlorn. I've found myself recently trying to employ my toddler in helping keep my littlest one company, so I can put him down and do something like make dinner. It starts off well enough, with me giving him a rattle and telling him to shake it for the baby. While they're occupied with each other, I sneak away and start something. My toddler realizes I'm missing, throws the rattle in the little rocker and follows after me. The baby sees he's alone and starts crying and I'm guiding my toddler back to the living room, pleading with him, stay with your brother.

I find it interesting that at a mere 3 months old, my son's cries echo the sentiments of God, who when He created a companion for Adam, stated that it's not good to be alone (Gen 2:18.) In my experience, just living beats down the cry that says, "don't leave me," because vulnerability often leads to rejection. Even just the fear of judgment is enough to jade ourselves against community, and create a system where we don't need anyone for anything. The sad part is I see this jaded viewpoint expressed over and over again against the church.

The writer of Hebrews said, "Consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, and not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day approaching." (Heb 10:24-25) Why did they make it a point to highlight that some make it a habit of not showing up? Could it be because even back then the excuses of  encountering hypocrisy, citing a personal relationship with God, or just not having the time kept believers apart?

Why is specifically a faith community so important anyway? Why can't I just have a good relationship with my coworkers and my friends and my time with God be just be me and Him?

This world can be gnarly sometimes, and there are many entrapments. I would hope that if one of the boys were about to do something they would get in trouble for, their brother would say, "Hey, don't do it." Worst case scenario, they do it anyway, and their brother is there to help them clean up the mess. Or what if a bully tried to hurt one of them? Wouldn't it be better if their brother was there to help? In the same way, we're called to support one another and deal with temptation, sin, and spiritual attack in each other's lives.

Solomon makes this point in Ecclesiastes when he says,"Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken."

That phrase, "Woe to him who falls alone and has not another to lift him up" weighs so heavily on my heart. So many Christ followers encounter temptation, sin or the spiritual attack and have no one around them who understands what that even means, and are left to struggle with it alone. Your brothers and sisters are here. We understand. We want to lift you up.

Another reason is you are vital to the full functioning capacity of the body of Christ. Yes, You.

Paul said, "That there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together. Now you are the body of Christ and individually members of it." (1 Cor 12:25-27) He didn't make a distinction that this only applied to those who show up. If I lost an eye or ear, an arm or leg, I would still be a relatively functioning human being, but I would never be one-hundred percent. Think of all those Christ followers, who have so much to contribute, and don't show up. Think about how that contributes to the dysfunction and lack of potency in the body. Your presence matters so much.

If you're not part of a faith community, or are considering leaving your current one, I invite you to join ours. If you don't happen to live in Southern California, reach out and I'm sure we could find you a church that you would feel right at home in. Your brothers and sisters are there to make sure you never fall alone, and we need you in order to reach the corners of this world only you have access to. If you are part of a faith community, I pray that you would find strength within the body, and that you would be encouraged, equipped, and spurred on toward love and good deeds. I pray that the words of David would be true in your life, and that it would be good and pleasant as you dwell in unity with other Christ followers. I pray we would all be given a measure of grace that would enable us, as different as we all are, to uphold one another in love. Amen.

Cast your cares

A few weeks ago, my 2 year old got a stomach bug for the first time. It was obvious he didn't feel well and so when he motioned to crawl up into my lap, I welcomed him and wrapped my arms around his achy body. Then, out of no where, he started to cough, and before I could even think, he puked all over to the both of us. I looked at my husband, who had horror wash over his face, and sighed while I comforted my little one. I mean, what can you really do in that moment?

 After handing him over to be showered, while cleaning myself up, I heard the Father say, "Cast your cares on Me... That's what I mean."
"Throw up on you?" I asked, in almost disbelief of what I was hearing.
"Go look up the word 'cast."
"To throw or hurl; Fling." It made me think about a fisherman, casting his line into the water, first rearing his pole back, and then flinging with all of his might in the direction he intended it to go.

This picture gave me a new understanding of the verses I've heard so many times, even though it seems to many, they've become a pat answer in the face of worrisome circumstances. Peter tells us to "cast our anxieties on the LORD because He cares for us." He's echoing David, who said "Cast your cares on the LORD, and He will sustain you. He will never let the righteous be shaken." (1 Peter 5:7/Psalm 55:22) Throw, hurl, fling my cares on the Lord. It's not a picture of passively placing my worries at Jesus' feet. It's a forceful, intentional, power-filled action.

But since the Father made a note to mention this in the middle of my son's vomiting, I got to thinking about what anxiety and worry does to the body as well as the soul. Worry often makes us nauseous, but we tend to stuff it down, as if talking or praying about it will make our concerns real instead of just in our minds. Ironically enough, stuffing it down keeps us in this state of being worried sick. Once we get it up and out, we end up feeling so much better, even if the process is messy, because our soul wasn't meant to hold onto it.  Like a body needs to get rid of a germ it can't process, the soul needs to get rid of anxiety.

He cares for you. He's not disappointed that you couldn't handle what keeps you up at night yourself, and He's not grossed out that you finally decided to cough up what's making your stomach churn. All He wants is for you to throw, hurl, fling these anxieties far enough away from you, with confidence and boldness, that you can't just reach down and pick them back up. Like the fisherman who only drops his line next to his boat, it's too easy to pick our anxieties back up and claim "it didn't work." If the temptation to take our anxieties back on ourselves is great, it means we didn't throw them far enough.

I pray you're given grace for the task. I'm not saying that it's easy. I'm saying that no matter how imperfect your aim, no matter how messy your progression, or how many times it takes for you to throw it a good distance away, it's worth it. He sustains those who cast their cares on Him. He stabilizes them with His peace.

"May today there be peace within.

May you trust God that you are exactly where you are meant to be.

May you not forget the infinite possibilities that are born of faith.

May you use those gifts that you have received, and pass on the love that has been given to you.

May you be content knowing you are a child of God.

Let this presence settle into your bones, and allow your soul the freedom to sing, dance, praise and love .

It is there for each and every one of us." St. Therese of Liseux prayer from "Story of a Soul"

Finding Rest

There is no tired like "just had a baby" tired. Talking to a friend at lunch today, I told her I am so impressed with how the human body can seem to survive on caffeine, adrenaline and 3 hours of sleep for weeks on end. More times than not, I sacrifice sleep in order to get some dishes done, clean the living room, call a friend, anything I can think of that I can't do while the kids are awake. Occasionally, though, the exhaustion comes over me like a wave and leaves me no choice but to succumb to it's siren call. In those moments, I'm usually bombarded with thoughts that our society has pounded into me from childhood,"What about the dishes/laundry/dinner? You're just gonna let your husband come home to this mess?" "You could be, SHOULD BE doing _____ instead of sleeping." "You can sleep when you're dead!" They all carry the same message: I'm selfish, lazy, and if you add the message that I'm a crap mom for sticking my kids in front of Sesame Street while I close my eyes for an hour, unwilling to deal with the consequences of having children.

I've heard people who are entrepreneurs being told the same thing when they talk about needing a break. If you have something that requires all of you to sustain it, it's as though our society says, "If you wanted rest, you should have wanted less." Instead, I'm supposed to live in weariness without the option of burnout. Thankfully, we are not entitled to rest, we are commanded to rest.

We have all read passages that say remember the Sabbath, and keep it holy, and that God worked 6 days and then rested. How many of us have read about those who disobeyed God's commands, and what ended up happening to them? In Hebrews 4, the writer quotes Psalm 95, who explains that because of the Israelites' disobedience, they were cursed by God in His anger, an oath which said that they shall not enter His rest. (Ps 95:10-11) By not carving out time to rest, in making excuses to bypass the idea of taking a break, we are not only being disobedient, we are living under a curse reserved for those who chronically harden their hearts against God, and as a result, perish from it. (vs 11) 

Gives whole new meaning to the phrase "dead tired," doesn't it? 

Thankfully, Jesus became a curse for us, negating the curses of the law (Gal 3:13,) so that we might turn back and embrace the rest the Father calls us to. Maybe that's why the writer opens the chapter with, "Since the promise of entering His rest still stands, let us be careful none of you have fallen short of it." (Heb 4:1) The joyous, exuberant, shout from the top of the mountain news is the promise of entering His rest stands for those who submit to His love and care. (Psalm 95:6-7)

Since we don't have the luxury of a siesta built into our day, we have to be intentional about our rest. It seems paradoxical to think we need to actively seek out time to be inactive, but if we don't, it's only a matter of time before the taskmaster of expectation finds it's way back into our schedule. Before we know it, we will again be telling someone how tired we are while reaching for that 44 oz cup of coffee.

Many I know find rest in nature. The sound of the crashing waves, smell of seasonal blooms or sights of puffy clouds just give their hearts peace. Some I know really just need a day where the dishes don't get done, the laundry stays in piles and they curl up with a book. I have a few friends who find rest while running, with their headphones in, focusing on getting back in touch with their body. I could go for a nap, or what really rejuvenates my soul is appreciating art, whether listening to someone play an instrument or going to a museum.  My point is everyone rests differently. Just find where you can turn off the world and tune into peace; Keep it holy and go there often.

I ask that Abba would silence the voices that tell you if you rest, something catastrophic will happen. I pray that you would enter into a deeper, fuller, sweeter experience with Jesus as you turn off the world and pause in His presence. That you would have the energy needed to live abundantly, and the endurance to run the race He has set before you. Amen.

How we do naps at my house