Another lesson for the storm--your thoughts

         Another lesson for the storms--train your thoughts. 
         Okay, maybe that sounds strange, but I cannot tell you how critical it is in the midst of a frightening, seemingly out-of-control (or at least, out of your control) storm to not allow your mind and your thoughts to run wild.  And believe me, they will...if you don't manage or discipline or train  the thoughts that will flood your mind. 
           Yes, all those terrifying thoughts involving the worst case scenarios will pop into your mind.  That's inevitable.  But what's not inevitable is what you choose to do with those thoughts. 
           Each of us has the choice whether we'll chew upon destructive or despairing thoughts as a cow chews its cud...or whether we'll instead focus our mind's attention upon what God says is true and good and right. 
           Martin Luther expressed it this way: "You cannot keep birds from flying over your head, but you can keep them from building a nest in your hair.” 
           "Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things." (Phil.4:8) 
           Don't allow your mind to be hijacked by the frightening, terrible, negative, ugly, destructive. No, instead, think, think, think about the true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, excellent, commendable.  One way leads to discouragement, despair and terror while the other leads to encouragement, peace, and hope.  We cannot control the circumstances...but we can control our thoughts...and therefore our attitudes, our perspectives, our hearts.  Death or life.  Despair or hope.  Discontentment or joy.   
           Can I give just one example?  My husband shared that during one of those especially dark and frightening days with Janie, he found his thoughts became almost unbearable with all the terrible, worst case "What if's?"  His mind was racing (and so was mine). 
           Richard prayed and asked the Lord to help him, to please give him some thought he could cling to and could focus upon instead of all these deadly destructive thoughts. 
           Immediately the words to the great old hymn, "Great is Thy Faithfulness" came to mind...and in particular this little phrase, "Strength for today, bright hope for tomorrow."  
           Richard knew it was God's answer and provision for him--and for all of us--in that moment.  It was if the Lord gently whispered that He would give the strength for today that was needed.  All we all needed to do was to look to God, depend upon God, and trust God for today's strength.  And our faithful Heavenly Father would always provide it.  Today's strength for today's need.  Today's grace for today's challenges.  Today's peace for today's fears. 
           But in addition, God has the bright hope for tomorrow.  He won't give us tomorrow's strength today...no, we have to trust Him for that when tomorrow comes.  But He will be just as faithful and powerful and good and loving tomorrow as He is today, and He will give us just what we need tomorrow when tomorrow arrives.  That means we can dismiss those terrifying thoughts about the future...because He's got the future.  He's got us.  And He's got bright hope for tomorrow.  And His hope will never ever disappoint. 
            So today, go to Him for today's strength.  And fix your mind and your thoughts upon His goodness, His grace, His love, His provision for today.  Tomorrow He will be there as well--just as powerful, good, gracious, wise, loving--and that's what you can focus your thoughts upon when tomorrow arrives.  
            It all begins by choosing--in the midst of the storm--what we allow our minds to dwell upon--choose life, hope, peace, gratitude, truth, joy...choose Almighty God and His faithfulness! 
            To God be the glory.
         
         

More Lessons for the storm...Hope

        Exactly six years ago today, also on a sunny Sunday morning like today, we got terrible news from one of the doctors in the ICU.  As he entered the room early that morning, I jumped up from dozing on the little cot beside our daughter's bed, anxious to hear from they had learned from her latest MRI.  It wasn't good. 
         I was basically told that if Janie survived, she would never be the same again.  She'd likely be in a wheelchair, with a feeding tube, unable to communicate, etc.  He acknowledged that they couldn't predict the extent of her disability unless and until she work up, but emphatically declared that "you will not ever have the daughter you have once known" or something to that effect.  Devastating--though he was clearly not trying to hurt us but to help us prepare.
        And yet, even in that hardest of times, God was there.  For a few hours, hope had fled, and I can honestly say it was one of the darkest times of our lives, yet the Lord provided dear friends and family at the very moment we needed them.  Almost immediately after the doctor left, Russ Andrews suddenly walked in with his well-worn Bible under his arm, and he quickly started praying.  Moments later, my dear sister, Jane, arrived.   There's nothing like the gift of loving presence in the midst of fear and sorrow.  Just having that person there infuses you with strength. 
         Back at home, Joe Knott suddenly showed up on our doorstep shortly after I had called my husband with the news.  Richard said they knelt down together on the floor in the den and prayed...and Joe's presence there was an unimaginably beautiful gift to an incredibly broken-hearted daddy.
         A little later that same morning, however, we had another doctor come in--the man I have often said I would name my child if we ever had another one!--Dr. Tucci.  As I described it at the time, it was as if hope blew into the room, for Dr. Tucci shared that although he had no evidence or reason to explain this, he believed, based simply upon his years and clinical experience as a neurologist, that Janie would eventually wake up and "would one day be able to walk into his office and thank me."
         Funny, nothing changed outwardly.  Janie was still unconscious and completely unresponsive.  She still had a fever, still was on a ventilator, still had one lung that was filling with fluid and on and on.  But yet, everything had changed for us--because we remembered that we had hope.
        And hope is a priceless gift.  But it is a gift, that no matter our circumstances, we have already been given in Christ.  He is the Hope that will never ever disappoint us.  As our daughter, Mary Norris, shared, "Doctors can only give you news; they cannot give you hope."  And Jesus Christ is our unfailing Hope.   
          That, dearest Katherine--and anyone else enduring a storm today--is another one of the lessons God taught us in the storm: your Heavenly Father always has hope for you, no matter the circumstances.  And His hope will never fail and never ultimately disappoint.  As Romans 5:3-5 explains it: "Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope.  And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."
           As you look to the Savior, you will always find hope.
           In addition to finding unending hope in Christ, you will also discover His hope and love in the dear friends and family God  has put in your life and will send to you at just the right time.  They are hope incarnate!  Early that dark Sunday morning six years ago, it was Russ, Jane, and Joe...but throughout our storm it was our precious brothers and sisters (what a blessing family is!) and countless friends (who are too numerous to name for fear of leaving someone out!).  Our gracious God always seemed to send someone right at the moment we desperately needed a dose of hope and encouragement.  Phone calls, texts, and personal visits.  Carpooling, cleaning, feeding, encouraging, praying.
           Never take the gift of friendship and family for granted and know that they are part of God's provision of hope and help for you in midst of the storm.  Allow them to love and care for you.  Thank your Heavenly Father for their presence in your life.  And when all you see and feel is darkness around you, lean upon them.  Trust that they are praying for you when you have no words or even desire to pray.  They are praying, and God is listening.  And know that Christ is shining His light of love and hope through them.

 (Thank You, Lord, for the gift of friends and family!  These pictures were taken a few weeks later after Janie woke up and Tessa was recovering, but they still make my heart sing!  And in one of the pictures is our dear friend, JoAnna, who is now in heaven and is surely getting everything organized and making everyone feel loved and included!)
         As Paul prays in Rom.15;13,  May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. He is Hope incarnate.  And He will also send His hope in the form of those who love you.  You are never alone in the storm.  Hope is always there.
         To God be the glory.

       

August 24th...Lessons for storms

        As I shared recently, my dear sister-in-law is fighting a fierce battle today.  She's battling a difficult form of cancer...but she does not battle alone.  Never alone.  Not only does she now have countless folks all over the country praying for her, as well as family and friends beside her loving and helping her, but most importantly, she has an Almighty Lord who is with her and for her every moment of every day and every night.  The cancer may be aggressive, but her faith is in her all-powerful, all-loving, all-knowing, all-gracious God.
        How I wish I could take away the pain, take away the fear, take away the cancer.  But while I can't do that, I can battle with her and for her with my prayers.  And with my words...and that's what I've decided to try to do over the coming weeks and months, beginning today. 
        For you see today, August 24th, marks a special day for our family.  So it seems appropriate to think back over that time and share some of the lessons God taught us in the midst of one of the most challenging storms our family has faced.  Lessons that stay with us to this very day, and lessons that I pray God will use to encourage my precious sister-in-law and any others who might be enduring or entering a difficult storm in their lives. 
        Exactly six years ago today, on a Friday just like today, on a bright and sunny day just like today, our world was rocked and changed forever when our daughter and three of her friends were in a serious car wreck.  I won't go into the details, but two of the girls were seriously hurt.  Tessa was flown to Chapel Hill with multiple broken bones in her back, wrist, hip, and shoulder.  Janie was flown to Greenville with a traumatic brain injury.  Janie was in a coma, and though the doctors and nurses tried repeatedly, they could not wake her up.  For two weeks, we prayed and waited, not knowing first if she'd survive, then if she would ever wake up, and finally if she did wake up, how extensive her brain damage would be.

         Again, I won't go into details because that's not the point of this post. Rather, I'd love to share some simple lessons we learned through this time.  (I'll try to stick to just one or two lessons each post so this may take a while!) 
         I have to add, as hard, terrifying, and painful as that time was, my husband and I both said we felt God's presence, His love, His grace, His strength for one moment at a time, as never before during those long, dark weeks.  There were days and nights where the Lord's presence was so palpable in that little ICU room that the air seemed thick with Him--we knew He was there.  It was as if I could feel His gentle but powerful breath on my face and His loving but strong arms around my shaking shoulders.  I will never forget that nearness.
         That's one lesson--in the darkest, hardest moments of life, God is there.  He will be there.  He is always there.  You are never ever alone, and you will never be alone.  He's promised in His Word, "I will never leave you nor forsake you" (Heb.13:5)  That's not to say you won't feel fear or pain or despair--but He will be there.  He will walk with you in the darkness, and weep with you in the sorrow.  And that should give us such peace--the Almighty One will be with me, no matter what.  And if He's with me, He'll enable me to walk this broken road and to face anything. 
        Stop worrying about whether or if He'll be there--He will.  No matter what. 
         Secondly, instead of asking and fixating on why, start asking what.  I'm not saying this because God can't take your doubts and  your raw why Lord? questions.  No, you can be completely honest with your Heavenly Father.  He can take it, and He will love you just as much after you shake your fist at Him in anger and confusion as He does when you trust and thank Him profusely. 
         But the problem with why questions is that they take you nowhere.  We may never know the answers to our why questions until we get to heaven.  Instead, it's more helpful to ask God what--                What do you want me to learn through this?  What are You doing in the midst of this?  What promise in Your Word can strengthen me in the midst of this?  What other person can I encourage even in this hard place? 
         In response to those questions, I can tell you from personal experience, God will teach you and grow you through whatever it is you're enduring. 
         He will be working and moving in innumerable redemptive ways you likely cannot see and do not know, but He is.  He always is. 
         His Word contains countless promises you can cling to that will refocus your confused gaze, revive your weary heart, and renew your depleted strength.  Go to Him in His Word and be filled
         And there will always, always, always be someone else you can help, love, and encourage, even in the midst of your pain and difficulty.  Go love that person by God's grace and for His glory.  Mr. Rogers would always tell children that in the midst of crisis and calamity, "Look for the helpers."  You can be that helper for someone else.  You can be "Jesus with skin on" for someone else...and the person who will ultimately be most blessed, will be you.
          Thank You, Lord, for this day.  Thank You for Your extravagant grace and mercy in saving those four precious girls and in using all the pain, fear and difficulty for far greater good and for Your greater glory.  Please help my sweet sister-in-law, and all who are in the midst of fierce, frightening storms today, to cry out to You, to feel Your presence and love as never before, to cling to Your Word, and to trust in You, Your goodness, Your power, and Your plans. 
          Jesus, You are the Light that shines in the darkness and the darkness has not, and will never ever, overcome it. (John 1:5)  Shine, Jesus, shine, and help us to see Your irrepressible Light.
          To God be the glory.
           
     

Waiting well

        Waiting...is hard.
         Or maybe I should say, waiting well is hard.  Because, really, we all wait an awful lot, and anybody can wait poorly, right?
         I'm a professional at waiting impatiently, foot tapping, fist clenching, when I get in the loooong, sloooow line at the Harris Teeter.  Or when the person in front of me at the stoplight sits there looong after it's turned green--obviously checking out social media--while the rest of us in line behind them, wait irritatingly, even angrily.
        Then, of course, there's the especially challenging, anxious waiting: waiting to get into the desired school, waiting for the right person to come along to marry...waiting to get pregnant...waiting for the potentially life-altering diagnosis...waiting for healing...waiting for the prodigal to come home...waiting for reconciliation.
        As we wait and wait and wait, we start to wonder...and then to worry.  What if God says "no?"  What if God doesn't come through?  What if the worst happens?  What if I don't have what I need to survive the disappointment?  What if I just can't endure any more of this long, hard siege of waiting?
        Did you notice something about those questions, however?  They all began with "What if...?"  That's so often where we--or at least I--go off the rails and fall into the swamp of despair and doubt. All the "what if's" can literally sap the life and joy and hope right out of you and fill you instead with fear and doubt and despair.
         But you know what?  Maybe when those "what if's" start pounding at the door of our hearts, our minds and wills need to answer firmly with "But God has said..."
       I love what Spurgeon wrote: "Will not the distresses of life and the pangs of death, will not the internal corruptions and the external snares, will not the trials from above and the temptations from beneath all seem but light afflictions when we can hide ourselves beneath the bulwark of 'He has said'?"
       Yes!  We respond to all the "what if's" and fears and doubts that assail us by waiting with God's unfailing promises.  We run to His Word.  We remember His faithfulness.  We trust in His goodness and grace.  We recall how faithful He has been to us in the past.  We recount how God worked and moved in countless ways when His people in the Bible endured plenty of hard waiting of their own.
         Bottom line: if we want to wait well, we must wait with and in God's Word.
        Just a couple of examples: Abraham waited twenty-five years for God to send the long promised son to ancient Abe and his old wife, Sarah.  That's a mighty long time of getting up every morning and hoping, maybe this is the day...and then, by the end of day, saying sadly, nope, not today.  Only to get up the next morning, get busy worshipping, working, cleaning, traveling...and waiting, hoping once again: maybe today? And then, for about 9,125 days straight the answer was, nope, not yet.  That's an awful lot of days of waiting.
        Yet God's Word says, "And thus Abraham, having patiently waited, obtained the promise." (Heb.6:15)
        Andree Sue Peterson writes, "Twenty-five years he waited.  Unglamorous years of eating sand and believing for a son.  Just think of the daily talking to yourself you'd have to do under these conditions to keep waiting for something humanly implausible based only on a word you heard way back when.  Abraham is one of the greatest men in history for simply believing God for a long, long time."  
        Or how about Joseph?  Though God had seemed to give him a vision of his future greatness and authority, Joseph's brothers betrayed him, and thirteen long years he waited in Egypt as a slave and then a forgotten prisoner in a stinking dungeon.  That's 4,745 looong days, says Peterson, "to choose trusting God's word and faithfulness over bailing out of his teenage vision of the bowing sheaves and stars."  How long does it take us to bail?  To lose hope? To start complaining and fretting and doubting?         
        But all those days and months and years for Abraham, for Joseph, for Moses, for Hannah, for Zechariah and Elizabeth...they were never ever forgotten by God.  Every day, every moment, during all that waiting, the Lord was working and moving behind the scenes in countless ways that they could not see and did not know.  But we do...because we know the end of the story.
         Because in our waiting, God is working.  And in our waiting, God is building godly, strong, resilient, persevering, faithful character in us...in our children...in our loved ones...in our friends.
         Does knowing that make it fun to wait?  No sir.  But it makes it worth it.  Because as I've shared before, when God wants to grow a mealy little mushroom--that's here today and gone tomorrow--He takes about six hours.  When He wants to grow a mighty, majestic, towering oak tree--that's here for generations offering shade, stability, and beauty--He takes about sixty years.
         We're all enduring some kind of hard waiting right now...but instead of tumbling into the pit of fearful "what if's" that lead only to doubt and despair, let's turn to God's Word and choose to trust in His promises.  Let's recount His faithfulness.  Let's recall His goodness and grace.  And let's remember that He's working and moving in our lives, in our loved ones' lives, to grow mighty oaks of righteousness and faithfulness.
          I'm willing to wait well with Him for that.  How about you?
          To God be the glory.
     

Hope is a Person

        Hospitals are hard.
        They can be places of hurt, of demolished hope, of fear and uncertainty, of pain and sorrow.  But they can also be places of healing and hope, of babies born, of dreams restored, of courage found and faith displayed.  In hospitals, we experience the reality of Charles Dickens immortal words, "It was the best of times.  It was the worst of times..."
       After a hard week in the hospital for my sweet sister-in-law, yesterday was one of those especially hard days.  We learned that she has a particularly challenging form of cancer, and although we thought we were prepared for difficult news, well, we weren't really prepared.  I don't think you ever fully can be.
       And yet even in the heartbreak and fear, there's that kernel of hope.  Because our hope isn't in a great diagnosis, or in wonderful doctors, or in perfect health, or in happy circumstances...our hope is in Christ.
       Hope isn't a feeling.  Hope isn't a concept.  Hope is a Person, and His name is Jesus.     
       "Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through Him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us."
         As my daughter, Mary Norris, so eloquently expressed it to my sister-in-law when she learned of the news yesterday: "One thing I will never forget is something someone told me when Janie's situation was looking really bleak--doctors can only give us news...they cannot give us hope.  Hope comes from God and God alone.  Your future is secure and He meets us at our weakest and most lonely, vulnerable places."
          We have a God who weeps with us in our pain and sorrow.  We have a God who fully suffered and completely understands every single pain, sorrow, and disappointment we'll ever face.  He knows what it is to betrayed...to be rejected...to be lonely...to suffer pain and defeat and death.
         And He's promised us that on this lovely, broken planet, we too will suffer.  "I have said these things to you, that in Me you may have peace.  In the world you will have tribulation..."  Yes, we will experience sorrow, pain, disease...BUT that's not the end of the story!
          No sir! Finish the verse! Because following yet another of those amazing "but's" in the Word of God are words of glorious hope, certain hope, Jesus-this-is-gonna-get-mighty-good-hope: "...But take heart; I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)
           I don't know what you might be enduring today or facing tomorrow, but this I do know: Jesus has promised never to leave us us nor forsake us. (Heb.13:5)  He's promised He's bringing ultimate and eternal good out of ALL things. (Rom.8:28) He's promised that He's making all things new (Rev.21:5 And by the way, He's not just making all new things, but making all things new!  Praise God!!)  He's promised that He is preparing a place for us in heaven (John 14:3) and that our light and momentary afflictions are preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison (2 Cor.4:17)  And He's promised that He's overcome the world...so we can, we should, we must take heart!
          I have to quote my precious daughter one more time in the text she sent to my sister-in-law: "Isn't it amazing how we have a God who sits with us in our pain? That if feels like He draws nearest when we're hurting and provides tangible reminders that He loves us?  He is ultimately writing a story that fully redeems everything on this earth and one day it will be made whole again.  We can rest in that assurance and in the meantime hope in His unfailing promises."   Amen and amen.
         Cancer doesn't have the last word.  Divorce doesn't have the last word. Disease doesn't have the last world. Depression doesn't have the last word.  Addiction doesn't have the last word.  Destroyed finances or relationships or health don't have the last word.
          Jesus has the first and last word forever and ever and ever.  He is our Hope.  He is our Anchor in the storm.  And He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  Real, abundant, eternal, glorious, hope-fulfilled Life with a capital L.
          I don't know what the coming months will look like for my dear sister-in-law...or for any one of us on the planet for that matter. But I know the One who knows and holds us all in His nail-scarred hands.  And if He says He's always with us...and He's overcome the world...and He's bringing our good and His glory out of all things...and He's making all things new, well then, we're good.  Even while we fight the good fight against this cancer, we place our hope in God and in God alone.  And He's got us.  He's got her.  He's got you.  He is Hope.
         To God be the glory.

In the storms

        Isn't it something how life moves along calmly, quietly, uneventfully...and then suddenly, wham, a hurricane blows in.  One moment the skies are sunny, bright and clear, and the next, the storms clouds glower low and menacing and the rain pours down in sheets. 
        It's been one of those days. 
        This past week has featured the typical series of minor difficulties and small disappointments along with plenty of joyous interludes of peace and answered prayer.  Actually, like all of life--some good, some bad.  Some joy, some sorrow.  Some moments of crying out to God "Why?!" and "When?!" yet then interspersed with plenty of moments of "Thank You!" and "Praise You, Father!" 
        But today's been different.  We have several friends and family members dealing with sudden crises.  And here I sit, knowing in a sense what they're feeling.  I can close my eyes and am immediately taken back to that phone call six years ago this month.  Your daughter's been in a serious car accident...traumatic brain injury...coma...ICU.  It's like suddenly being thrown into a swirling vortex of uncertainty and fear. 
         How I wish, I pray, I could take away the pain and terror and helplessness.  I cannot...but this I do know.  There is a Rock that is an unshakable fortress, a sure and certain refuge in any storm. And His name is Jesus. 
        He is the mighty Lion of Judah.  The Great Deliverer.  The Redeemer.  The Bread of Life.  The Door.  The Living Water.  The Good, Good Shepherd.  The Friend who sticks closer than a brother.  The  Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.  The Word.  The Savior. 
         And He will never ever leave you nor forsake you.  (Heb.13:5) 
         Sometimes we don't truly realize that until we're buffeted by the storms, and in the midst of the craziness, we sense His nearness, His grace, His tender love as never before.  It's in the storms that we learn what it means to depend upon Him, to trust Him alone for "strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow," and to experience joy even in the midst of sorrow and difficulty.   
         "I know, O LORD, that your rules are righteous, and in faithfulness you have afflicted me. Let your steadfast love comfort me according to your promise to your servant. Let your mercy come to me, that I may live; for your law is my delight." (Psalm 119:76-77)
        He is in the affliction.  He is in the storm.  He has allowed it, and He will use it, somehow, someway, for our greater good and His greater glory.  After all, Jesus endured the most horrific storm ever--the storm of the cross--for you, for me.  He allowed that raging storm of wrath and sin to buffet and batter and beat Him all the way to death.  The death we deserved. 
        But then on the third day, Jesus rose victorious.  Victorious over sin and death.  Victorious over fear and failure. Victorious over sickness and shame.  Victorious over despair and defeat.  And because He lives and reigns, so one day we will as well. 
         If you're in the midst of a storm, big or small, right now, look to Jesus.  Go to Him in His Word.  Worship Him in your pain.  Cry out to Him in your confusion.  Trust Him even when you cannot see the way ahead.  Because He does.  And He'll bring you safely home. 
         He's there.  I promise.  Far better yet, He's promised, and His Word never, ever fails. 
         If you're still and listen deeply, you might hear the beautiful sound of a distant roar.  Because in the midst of the storm, Aslan is on the move.
         To God be the glory.