I consented to heart surgery this week.

Not the go in the hospital kind, the hand Jesus the scalpel kind.

I joined in a group online study at Bible Study Hub that started Monday. We are going through the book Everyday Love by Katie Orr, which FOCUSes on the famous love chapter, 1 Corinthians 13. Did you realize that this chapter is right smack in the middle of a bunch of messy church people and their associated messiness?

And can I just say - - - it has been painful, already.

Day 4 smacked me square in the face and has left me stinging for two days, so yes, it has been painful. In fact, I told my friend on the afternoon of day 4,

As she and I ended our conversation and parted ways, the Spirit in His oh-so-gentle way reminded me,

Taking a deep breath, I responded,

So, this pain has been good and pain when I study is evidence of a holy scalpel upon my fleshly heart.

Here's what happened on Day 4, Question 2:

Reflecting on my life, immediately I knew one area that is not showing the signs of spiritual vitality, and I confessed that to Him, yet He didn't settle for my quipped, let's move on to the next question answer.

He was right. I do always give Him that same answer, and that answer is a pretty broad subject. I have asked for His help repeatedly in dealing with this, but I guess I just expect Him to "poof" it away. Although He is capable, He is not going to do that because this issue involves people and He loves them just as much as He loves me. He wants all to be whole, and part of my becoming whole is my ability to love others, even when they are unlovable.

Because that is where Jesus started with me - when I was unlovable.

I knew what He was asking and I knew I was guilty of always lumping it all together. Lumping it all together made it seem so big and a little less "my fault" and gave me more of an excuse to ignore it. Although I dread this heart surgery, I am thankful He is revealing to me how He wants to start. I am not sure quite where yet, but I am sure that will be revealed to me very quickly. Quickly, as in, revealed by 8:01 Monday morning. I have wrestled with this for a very long time and spent hours over the years crying it out, praying about it, seeking Him on it, pleading "my side" of things, wanting Him to "fix" the other side(s).

He can fix the other side, I don't doubt that.


But what if I let Him fix me?

There is always going to be an "other side" to deal with. Whether or not the other side gets fixed doesn't change one thing about me. If I let Him fix me, I can see all of the "other sides" of life differently, whether it's the one I currently wrestle with or one that is coming 20 years from now.

Although it is complex, it is also pretty simple, He loves me too much to leave me like I am.

All of these years as I have prayed and cried, maybe He didn't fix the other side(s) of the situation, because He wants to fix me.

Because He doesn't count me a lost cause.

The Corinthians struggled, they were acting awful, and everything they were involved in was a mess, but despite all that, Paul didn't chalk them up as lost cause and just move on to a new group. He knew if they would grasp the truth and power of the gospel they would become a beautiful image of the love of Christ to a dying world.

I want to be evidence of that.

I want the beauty of the scars left by a holy scalpel, tenderly, meticulously carved by holy hands.

You know, the ones with the nail scars.

XOXO

I'm learning the difference, and it's making a difference.

The difference in what?

The difference in a tribulation and a frustration. I guess I've subconciously lumped them together as the same thing, but really they aren't, and identifying them in my mind is helping me walk through my days. No, I don't have things perfect, and yes, I still get irritated and often let it show, but I sense His work within and know He is producing something on this subject. So, I lay myself before Him, a willing student.

It all began in these verses, zooming in on this word:

Apparently from this definition, tribulations are pretty big. They are fierce like the seige and calamity of war, like the intensity of childbirth. When I look at it this way, my mind and heart can separate those things that are really not a tribulation from the things that are. Much of what I face that I might tend to call a tribulation are more associated with my personal preferences and comfort, more of an inconvenience than a war. They are a pain, but not the pain of childbirth.

The reason I can say that is because I have experienced tribulation a few times and I know how intense it was. I can also attest that they did produce the things promised in these verses, resulting in HOPE; however, they were more like a calamity of war and pressure from attempted seige by the enemy. I felt the intense pain like that of childbirth and can think of about 6 different true periods of tribulations, and they will forever be written upon me.

In every one of these circumstances I had to

1. Chose in faith that God was good.
2. Chose to believe in faith that, yes, all of this matters.
3. Chose to believe in faith that God would strengthen my bond with Him in it.

I could have thrown in the towel in any one of these tribulations and chose to do things my way, but what would that have proven? It wouldn't have taken away the pain. It would have proven nothing. These verses promise us profit from the struggle, and the profit from doing it my way would have been nothing.

Last year, on New Year's Day, my dad was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. How ironic? Not a happy new year. Todd and I were just getting our feet back under us from what had been a three year battle. The enemy had tried to take us out. He didn't want us serving in ministry and had us on the ropes many times, but we were walking out victorious and just beginning to see hope when we got the new year news.

It had been a very long day sitting at the hospital waiting for surgery, waiting for diagnosis, watching my family one by one process the pain. Listening as my dad asked some very hard questions and trying to answer him honestly, with any glimmer of hope. It was dark and cold outside as I walked to my car. It's all so vividly painful I remember exactly what I was wearing, exactly how I felt. I climbed into the driver's seat, started the car, and broke down.

And thoughts came.

Thoughts of giving up. Throwing in the towel on the God-thing. It took too much strength to hope in Him. What did it matter anyway? The Spirit spoke gently, reminding me that believing in moments as these was a choice, but the pain and exhaustion from battle screamed so much louder. These thoughts terrified me. In ministry, I have seen too many succumb to them and walk the wide road. I didn't want to be another statistic, so I proceeded with much spiritual caution. These moments, sweet friend, are why it is so important to know His true character and know His truth even when everything you feel is screaming the opposite.

My view of suffering prior to studying these verses was that, as a Christian, I should have a "better attitude" about tribulations, but that's not it. In this tribulation I knew that this didn't fit, who in their right mind rejoices at cancer? Having a better attitude is something that leaves the situation up to me and doesn't provide a window to see Him working, it's merely judged by my feel-o-meter. And my feel-o-meter was all over the place. The truth is, my attitude doesn't necessarily need to be better about the situation, but really needs to be more grateful for what lies ahead - eternity. More grateful for the foundational work He is doing in me and my dad this side of it. He is already working in us for that final state!

I will lose my dad to this. But, I would have lost him anyway.

I have to remember, as much as I love Dad, the life I have had with him here has been imperfect because we have only experienced it in an imperfect world. The life we have had together cannot compare to the one I will live in eternity with him and our Father.

This is a tribulation. It has been intense pain, it has been like a war seige. It is well beyond a personal preference or a personality clash.

I am learning that when I navigate a true storm, I tend to cling to God; but the things that I wrongly call a storm tend to be the things I seek a recue from my discomfort for, I'm not really seeking God in them. I'm seeking to have things my way in them.
I'm also learning the adjustments I can make.

1. I can stop mislabeling things as tribulations and trials that are really an issue of my personal preferences.
2. I can look at a situation and determine easily if it is really a war level battle or if it has the intensity of birth pain, if it doesn't pass that test, it's not really a big deal. I'm just making a big deal about it.
3. Check where I am placing my hope. My hope cannot lie in how I want people to act or treat me or others around them. They won't ever do it this side of eternity because they are just like me, broken people with broken eyes in a broken world. That's where grace comes in, I expect grace from God when I see things from my broken eyes, so I should also extend it to others and remember He is doing foundational work in them just as He is in me. My hope lies there - eternity, where all of this is complete. Ever thought about that ? No one will get on your nerves there 😉
   

Although this has been an intense past year, He has been near. He has reminded me that this life is VERY short although the days sometimes seem long. He has given me greater hope in my hope anchored beyond the veil.


XOXO

My friend just bought a wedding dress. It's really pretty. We've laughed this week saying it's "swoonworthy". Really, it is perfect for a beach wedding and couldn't be more "her". You know, it just fits her personality. It has beautiful, delicate lace fashioned with a very light train that is sure to flow in the breeze of the ocean. She's found the one whom her soul loves, and has been giddy with excitement this week since finding "THE" dress.

But as beautiful as the dress is, it wasn't always such.

It started out in pieces.

I know a little, and I emphasize the word "little", about sewing. Growing up in the home of a seamstress, you pick it up along the way. Mom made her own wedding dress, and it started out in pieces too. She also made many things for us over the years and when people complimented something I was wearing, I was proud to tell them my mom made it. My friends were always amazed at what she had fashioned together.

Everything she made always started out with a pattern. A pattern usually comes with several options. You pick the option you want to sew and the pattern tells you which pieces you needed. All of the pieces are printed on a very large sheets of tissue like paper and you cut out each piece needed for that project. Cutting out the pieces was often my job.

After the pattern pieces are cut, they are placed on and pinned to the fabric, and then the fabric is cut to the pattern. We would cut each piece very carefully and stack them together, then Mom would do her thing, and start sewing. After a while, and maybe a few squabbles with the sewing machine, in which it would be called lots of unbecoming names, the garment emerged from a pile of thread, strings, pins, paper, and who knows what else. We would go try it on, and lanky and boney as we were, adjustments always had to be made. Take it up here, lengthen it there, and so on.

But eventually what was once merely pieces was fashioned into something that fit.

And something to be proud of.

I don't particularly "exult" in my tribulations, friends, I'll just be honest. They are difficult. And sometimes they cut us into pieces.

God knows what He wants to make from you and me.

He has the pattern - it's Himself.

My tribulations are evidence of His fashioning hands at work. His Presence. Yes, tribulations often cut me into pieces.

In pieces.

But every beautiful garment starts there.

And that is what we look to and exult in, sweet friend.

When others ask you, you will be proud to tell them God made it.

And they will be amazed at what His hands have fashioned.

XOXO


Linking up with Katie Orr as we wrap up her book Everyday Hope, a FOCUSed15 study. For more info, click here.

Still studying alongside friends at Bible Study Hub and Katie Orr as we work through week 3 of Everyday Hope, a FOCUSed15 study. We've FOCUSed this week on hope being our anchor.

And it is. It is certain and can be trusted.

What about that word "hope"? I mentioned last week that hope is a noun, it is not something we do. The way we use the word hope in our typical thinking and conversation is not really biblical hope, so I think we often are confused with the concept of hope. We treat hope as if it's something that can or can't happen, like "I hope it doesn't snow on Saturday." It may snow Saturday, it may not, we don't really know. It's more like wishing. But this biblical hope is something of which we can be certain. I was so surprised to find out the meaning of the word hope as it is used in verse 19.

Your hope, sweet friend is a WHO. Your hope is also a WHAT. Let's stick that verse back in with the ones surrounding it.

What is our hope? His purpose or plan for us, which is eternal life together with Him. Who is our hope? Jesus.

Your hope has a WHERE too.

Where is your hope? Within the veil. When something enters within the veil, it enters into the Holy of Holies, the place where His very presence dwells. Presence. His presence in my everyday and His presence for all eternity. That is WHERE our hope is - in His presence.

We've discovered the WHO, the WHAT, and the WHERE, now let's uncover the LIE.

We may "feel" hopeless sometimes, but we are NOT hopeless. Hopelessness in itself is a lie and that is why we need to understand what hope really is. Our hope in Christ is sure and steadfast. We cannot be separated from Him and our eternity with Him cannot be taken away. To be "HOPE-LESS" would be to be without Him and without life forever with Him.

Hopelessness just cannot be.

Hope is something I have and Someone I hold to, eternal life and Jesus. I cannot be severed from them, so there is no such thing as hopelessness for me as a Christian.

Just because we feel hopeless doesn't mean we are. Remember, feelings aren't always based on truth and cannot always be trusted. Hopelessness is one of those feelings we simply cannot trust.

Hopelessness is a lie.

Danna Demetrie on Dr. James Dobson's Family Talk said this about feelings this week:

This is why it is so important that we renew our minds as we are instructed to do in Romans 12:2. This is the only way our feelings and behavior will ever be transformed. Renewing our mind with His truth is where we start, and the truth is we are NOT without Hope, because we are not without Christ. That is where we should focus.

We can try to anchor our hope in many things, and often we unknowingly throw our anchors toward how we feel. That is not solid ground, and an anchor won't hold there. I can place my hope in my bank account, my job, my accomplishments, my family, my spouse, my health, but none of those are sure and steadfast either. None of those are within the veil. None of those are anchored in His presence, where Jesus entered on my behalf.

I want my anchor of hope to be on the solid steadfast immovable ground of His very presence.

The only solid ground is within the veil.

Anchored to His Presence - everyday. Hope-FULL.

XOXO

For more on hope, visit Katie's link up here.

I must have came from the womb a baby doll lover. A little mother at heart, there was a new baby on my Christmas list each year. We had babies that had took a bottle, babies that wet their diaper, we had babies that made little tears. But one baby doll I played with tons was a doll my mom had as a girl. I'm sure one of the reasons I liked her was that she had bendable joints, minus the missing arm from the elbow down on one side. My memory fails me, but I'm pretty sure I wasn't responsible for that. Nevertheless, I loved that she was bendable. I could position her just right to sit up on her own or I could carry her on my hip like a REAL baby. She was just the right size to wear REAL baby clothes, REAL diapers , she could also wear a REAL bonnet and REAL baby shoes. Another thing I loved about her was that she had these really pretty working eyes. I could lay her down and she would sleep, then pick her up and she would be bright-eyed and bushy tailed, ready to play.

Except sometimes.

Because sometimes her eyes didn't work exactly right and one would get stuck halfway open.

Ugggghhh.

Not a very pleasing scenario for a little girl who wanted a doll that was as close to a REAL baby as possible.

Persistent little mommy that I was, usually with a little prompting and poking, I could get her eyes to finally cooperate.


God used those days of playing with baby dolls to teach me something as I camped out in Ephesians 1:18 last week.

Yes, this is my second post on Ephesians 1:18 lately, but He's been busy talking to me from there.

The phrase "eyes of your heart may be enlightened" is what He used as a loud speaker.

He caught me with the "rendered evident". To put that meaning in for enlightened, the verse would read something like this:

I pray that the eyes of your heart may be rendered evident.

Which begs me to ask, "Just what are the eyes of my heart then if they need to be rendered evident?"

Scripture teaches us that our hearts are deceitful above all things, Jeremiah 17:9. My heart is the seat of my will, emotions, my personality - all of the parts of me that are still being sanctified, still being made perfect. When I look at things with my heart of flesh, I am looking at it all wrong.

He wants me to see that I am using the eyes of my heart, which have not been made perfect yet, to look at my life and my circumstances. It will be rendered evident to me that I am getting the wrong perspective when I realize that I am using the wrong eyes. I have a born again spirit that is completely redeemed, and I need to use Spirit eyes to see where my hope lies.

Not my heart eyes.

Yes, sometimes I look at life through baby doll eyes.

And they are broken.

They don't open properly. They don't gaze upon the right things.

They don't gaze upon His presence.

Always with me.

In every single trial, frustration, circumstance.

Presence.

XOXO

#Presence2016

The dreary, seemingly sunless and colorless days that accompany January and February waltz right in after the most wonderful time of the year suddenly comes to a close. They don't wait for an invitation, they just show up unannounced, often delivering a bushel of hopelessness and discouragement. I'm one of those who tends to recieve the free bushels of hopelessness and discouragement that January and February offer, so I have to be very intentional to mark them "return to sender" and send them right back to where they came from.

Because I know this about myself, I was more than excited to join with Katie Orr and the Bible Study Hub for her study "Everyday Hope". The timing was perfect. And because I know that I am not alone in these feelings, I wanted to share a small part of what I'm learning this week with you.

The theme of this week's study was "Hope is My Lighthouse" and we #FOCUSed on Ephesians 1:15-22. Here's a portion of that scripture:

He has a calling, an invitation for you to embrace your salvation. I am learning much these days, but one thing He is reminding me of is that I often find myself feeling hopeless because I have forgotten to embrace my salvation in the moment that is causing me struggle or pain. I forget what I have been saved from and forget what lies ahead, only remembering how uncomfortable right now is.

Right now doesn't change your destination or your inheritance, my friend. We have to KNOW that in the difficult moments.

In the midst of storms and choppy seas, He and His message shine as a lighthouse, and that is where we must look, and what we must continue to move toward. We cannot see right now what is in store when we finally reach the destination, we've not seen a picture of our inheritance, we've not received post cards from loved ones who are there telling us how wonderful it is, and I think that's why we sometimes forget our hope.

But that's also an opportunity to exercise our faith.

Hope is a noun. Not a verb. It is not something we try harder for, it is something we cling to. Are you sure, sweet friend, of what you hope unto? My assurance of how real my hope is comes forth as the fruit of my faith on those hopeless days.

Keep moving toward the Lighthouse, allowing the message of His word, His love, the truth of the Gospel to be the shining light on stormy seas. I really liked what Katie said on our teaching video for this week:

As I pondered the way life crashes on us and that the Lighthouse is always shining, regardless of how much storm was in front of it, I was reminded of the beautiful ligthouse I saw this past spring at Tybee Island. The colors of the lighthouse and it's surroundings were so crisp and vivid.

It. Was. Beautiful.

There were little houses all around the lighthouse, but if you were looking from far away, particularly by land or sea, you would only be able to glimpse the lighthouse, not it's surroundings. It was only when I was close that I could see how big the lighthouse really was and all that was near it. From the waters you only see the lighthouse, but once you're on land, the buildings are just beyond it, on the opposite side of the waters that sometimes rage.

No matter how much the boat is rocking and the waves are crashing, keep on for the Lighthouse. No, we can't see with our eyes what is beyond the Lighthouse, but what we KNOW is that He teaches us there is an eternity of a vast inheritance with no pain or sorrow once we reach that shore. We can't see it, but Home is right next door. Right next door to the message that we follow are the comforts and joy of eternity.

Hope is our lighthouse.

Hold fast.

This will all be over and what to come is VERY REAL. Let's face this week refusing to let the choppy waters dictate our hope.

XOXO.


I'm linking up with Katie Orr, find more posts about Everyday Hope information about here studies here

We've heard that saying all of our lives. It's a way of saying not to cry about something that can't be undone. Don't dwell on the past.

But this verse makes me do just that.

What am I crying over?

Poured.

Richly.

Who hasn't been sitting at dinner when someone's drink was knocked over? If you've got kids, you probably like me and have lost count. It happens quick, we scramble to act, but it happens, whatever the glass was holding gushes out everywhere! It's done. And can't be undone.

What did He pour out on us?

His Spirit.

Not just a splash.

He gushed it out. Abundantly.

Yes, it's spilled milk. It's something in the past that can't be undone. But this time, it's not a mess to clean up, it's not a regret to mourn.
It is something to celebrate! Heaven gushed forth the Spirit to walk through this life with us and I am so thankful it can't be undone. I certainly couldn't do this life alone.

All because He is kind, has love and mercy for us, and wants to wash us under the gushing flow of His Spirit. Stand under that waterfall, my friend, and let Him renew you.

Yes, I'm crying over spilled milk, but it's a good thing ;-)


XOXO

P.S. I'm going to try to remember this the next time there is a spill a dinner! It'll be a great illustration to lessen the tension - and I bet they'll remember it and have reason to cry over spilled milk too!

Yes, I shared this verse with you last time.

But I couldn't just leave it at that.

I must tell you the rest of the story.

He had been communicating to me for several weeks that my focus for 2016 was to be His presence. He's been reminding me that the things and behaviors I don't like about myself could be greatly impacted by this word and realizing His presence in every single moment. It was no accident that the verse of the day that came up on my phone that morning was Matthew 28:19 where we are reminded to go and make disciples. I almost skipped it that day and looked for something else to study because the verse was pretty familiar, but I sensed the Spirit telling me to go there anyway.

So I did.

I read the familiar words, trying to see what He wanted to show me.

It wasn't in verse 19, but the treasure for that morning was just a few words later, in verse 20.

Packed in some of the last words Jesus spoke before returning to Heaven was one word, seemingly small and insignificant, but enormous with impact and importance. One word that is vital to my focus of His Presence this year.

Lo.

It parked on my heart for a moment and I knew it wasn't to be ignored. This is more significant than a simple "a, and, or the", I thought.

And what I thought was confirmed.

See.

See it, Amy.

See that I am with you.

I've been looking at my circumstances, my frustrations, my desk mounded up with papers and projects that seem to have no end, with broken eyes. Broken eyes have a broken perspective.

I don't remember when I was first taught that He was always with me, always present. I just remember always knowing it. But now He wants me to REALLY KNOW it. He wants this moved from my head to my heart and believed, not believed as a fact, but as an awareness that is real truth.

The first step of focusing on His presence for me is deciding to see it. When I am aware of the presence of the Almighty, regardless of whether or not I sense His presence, my responses, my attitudes, my reactions, my words will be impacted.  Being aware of His presence also gives me Hope to cling to in the midst of struggle because I realize that I'm not alone.

For it is then that I see that I am on holy ground.

What about you? How do you keep His presence ever before you?

XOXO


#Presence 2016

I'm linking up with Katie Orr who is hosting an online FOCUSed15 study called Everyday Hope.

The end of the Christmas season is always bittersweet for me. I confess, I'm not one to rush to put away the decorations and take down the tree, not that it's wrong to be a take-it-down-the-next-day kind of girl, I just like to savor the season a little longer. I'm not talking about savoring the Santa part, but savoring the Savior part and stilling my heart to drink Him in. This year, with a full time C.R.A.Z.Y. job, two busy teenage daughters, and many other things, the season rushed upon me more quickly than normal it seemed. It was almost as if there wasn't a chance to savor the season and its meaning until it was the day after. I'll even admit to you that I listened to a Christmas worship CD for 2 or 3 days after Christmas because I could just listen, not plan, not run through a list in my mind to make sure I hadn't forgotten anything. I could sit in the dark of our living room enjoying the glow of the tree lights in the room.

Just savoring Him.

And what He did for me.

Besides the obvious gift of the Newborn King, I wondered as I savored, "Why do I love this time of year so much? Why do I hate to see it end?"

And He whispered, "Because you get a glimpse of the way things are supposed to be."

I love that we are celebrating Him by doing things for others. I love that we have an excuse to be nice to strangers without it raising a question of our motives. I love that its ok to just be nice and smile and say Merry Christmas and mean it. I love that it's ok just to give something away.

He whispered again, "You love that people are celebrating My presence"

And my heart agreed, "Yes, that's it."

The season brings our attention to His presence in the world and we grasp it, if only for a few days or hours.

He gently reminds me, His presence can be celebrated everyday. His presence doesn't go away when the tree is packed away, or when Christmas music is out of season.

I must simply be aware of it.

Aware of His presence. Everyday. In every choice, every circumstance, every moment.

Awareness of His presence will affect my choices.

My word for 2016?

His Presence is what I will be turning my heart to this year.

Allowing His Presence to affect my present moment.

What about you? Do you have a word or subject you are focusing on for 2016? I'd love to hear what you have to say!

XOXO

It never failed, whenever we went to town, as we called it, which usually consisted K-Mart and the grocery store, as soon as I climbed out of the two-door, sky blue, Pinto station wagon, Mom would give us the once over, and then here. it. came.

The thumb bath.

She'd see something on my face that wasn't supposed to be there and do her best to get rid of it in order to make me presentable. Goodness knows how I managed to get so filthy between home and our destination, but considering the number of thumb baths I had over the years, I must have been pretty good at it.

I hated it.

It was like slow motion watching her thumb hit her tongue and then come toward my face. Dread was all over me and I'd scrunch up, distort my face, and start stepping back as I resisted her efforts. It didn't stop her though. She'd just grab tighter and rub harder to clean me up.

Did I mention that I hated it?

And I secretly vowed to myself that I would never do that to my kids. Never.

I broke that vow, by the way.

These moments came flooding back to memory as I read from Psalms 51 this week.

Those of you who've read very many of my posts know that I can't just leave it at the verse, I need to know more, and because of that I went in search of more information on what the phrase "blot out" means. It comes from a Hebrew word machah which means - to stroke or rub; to erase; to smooth as with oil, or in my instance, spit. I'm totally kidding about the spit part. It also means to touch, to reach unto, to utterly wipe away.

There has been much in my life that He has had to rub out, much about me that he has utterly wiped away.

Sometimes it isn't comfortable, rubbing something out requires a little friction. He still sees things in my life that need to go and He reaches unto it. I still resist, but like Mom, He just grabs me tighter, pulls me closer, and rubs a little harder to clean me up. He does it because He loves me and is proud to call me His own.

And He utterly wipes it away.

Leaving me completely presentable for all eternity to see.

And I am glad He did it to me.

The same is true about you, sweet friend.

XOXO