Is Light Sufficient?

We all find ourselves in situations that, by nature, are dark or that demand a level of light that would allow us to see better.

A dark time in my life came after I graduated from high school, a few moons back, and I was faced with the question, “What am I going to do with my life?”. There were several options to consider but not all were viable or attainable for me. I entered a season in my life where I needed light, I needed clarity to be able to make decisions according to my reality and God’s will for me.

Cancer has a way of introducing people to a dark time. This has been the case with my son-in-law, my daughter, my wife, others and me. As my son-in-law received a cancer diagnosis, the lights were dimmed and what became obvious was a great amount of questions no one could answer for him. 

Recently, I have found myself involved in conversations that portray different human experiences ranging from family crisis, abusive situations, addictions that destroy lives, marriage disappointments, deaths, physical elements and limitations that change lives in tremendous ways, lives gripped by anxiety and fears, and the list goes on and on.

I ask myself these days, “Is light all we need?”. 

I have recently found, through someone else, the answer to this question. In Psalm 27, King David addresses God, his Lord, as his “light and salvation”. The combination of these two realities is so comforting! When I face dark, difficult times in my life I do need light to see better, to uncover what is concealed, and to gain better perspective. But I also need a Savior in the room. Seeing better is not sufficient. Seeing and not having appropriate and timely help can send anyone to despair. Jesus can do both and it is him whom I want in the room of every moment of my life. He claimed to be light: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” (John 8:12). Furthermore, he is able to save, he has been given authority over all and he lacks no power to accomplish what is good for me and what ultimately brings glory to Him.

King David did not stop there. He concluded the thought: because the Lord is my light and my salvation, I will not fear. Fear is placed in its proper place when I realize that I am not left to figure out life on my own and that someone able to help is in the room with me.

So as you face your dark moments in life, remember that Jesus can offer to you what you need the most and the best. And as you get to experience His “light and salvation” you will be  encouraged as King David was to believe and to wait (verses 13-14):

“I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord

    in the land of the living!

Wait for the Lord;

    be strong, and let your heart take courage;

    wait for the Lord!”

—Diego Cuartas

A Lasting Legacy

It’s been six months since I turned thirty. I feel like now that things have settled into a new normal after welcoming our third baby in the spring, I can actually think about what that means to me. I’m no longer just out of high school. I’m not even just out of college. My twenties were marked by a lot of steep learning curves in every way. At age 20 I was a sophomore in college worried about making it through Organic Chemistry, and 10 years later I am married with three children and worried about my four year old’s asthma. We bought a minivan this spring after the baby was born, and there are times when I will be driving down the road and think, “Am I old enough to have a minivan full of kids?” “Who let me have a minivan full of kids?” Haha. A lot has happened in the last 10 years complete with re-routed dreams, suffering, wrestling with identity, discovery of new dreams, getting married, having babies, and learning, learning, learning through it all.

I have been struck with a thought recently, not just about everything that I am leaving behind as far as experiences and lessons learned in my twenties, but about what I am pushing toward going into my thirties and beyond. Within the last few weeks I have attended a funeral and heard of the passing of several other beloved people from our community or church family. People from my grandparents’ generation continue to leave us as time marches on and we all move up in line. This picture of being in line so to speak came to me after the funeral. Before you are like, “Oh my goodness Sophia! You are so morbid!” hear me out. I don’t mean that we are all just marching along toward death, but as we continue to mature and get older, it is important that we take our place, not just in society, but also in our generation and in the body of Christ.

The funeral I attended recently was for a dear high school teacher. She was a beautiful, spunky woman who loved big. She loved God, her family and students. What stood out to me from her funeral and her life was that she was a woman who was intentional about leaving a legacy of faith for the next generation. She had the future and heaven in mind. My grandparents and others I have known were the same.

So now what? It’s my turn. It’s my turn to take the legacy of faith left to me by these followers of Jesus and those who went before them and pass it on. I feel like I am moving up or being promoted. What an honor. I want to take my place as a thirty year old having graduated from one decade and being welcomed into another. I don’t have to pretend to be as mature as I hope to be at 40 and 50, and I don’t have to bemoan not being 20. I want to look ahead to the future and toward heaven by looking behind me at my children and their generation. I may not have a million dollars to leave them, but I have my eyes on an inheritance worth far more than that, that will never tarnish or fade.

What does it look like for me to take steps in building that legacy this year? It looks like me seeking Jesus like the great treasure He is, loving big even when no one is looking, being wholehearted and fully present in what I give my time to, being willing to be vulnerable by sharing my process, taking faith filled risks, and not letting fear be the loudest voice. I want my children and their generation to be able to say of me the same things they did about my high school homeroom and English teacher, that I lived with gusto and passion for Jesus and loved people well. I want to be a good example having learned from some of the best. I am looking forward to all that I will continue to learn on the path. Cheers! to being thirty… and a half.

—Sophia Howard

Risking Emotional Safety for the Kingdom of God

I’ve admittedly had a lot of wrong assumptions about the person and character of God throughout my faith journey to date. For a time, I remember imagining Him as this distant entity completely ruled by logic. Weighing the good and the bad and then decreeing judgment and punishment if the bad outweighed the good. I believed that He wasn’t pleased by emotional expression of any kind, and instead wanted us as believers to dedicate ourselves solely to knowledge, in-depth biblical research and theology. Those things are important of course, but I now feel like I have a healthier, more biblically sound understanding of who God is. An understanding informed by John 4:24 (NLT) “For God is Spirit, so those who worship him must worship in spirit and in truth.”  God wants my thoughts AND my emotions. He wants both, because He is both. He made us in His image, so as image bearers of Him, we too are filled with emotion by design. We honor the very essence of God in us as image bearers when we are willing to recognize our emotional selves. We honor the essence of God in others as image bearers when we are willing to engage their emotional self as well. So then why does it feel like so many of our relationships have the tendency to settle on the surface? Why do we become so “picky” about who we engage with on an emotional level?

In my own life, and in my work as a counselor, I find that there are some common themes around why we might avoid connecting with others on an emotional level. Some of these include: fear of rejection and/or abandonment, a desire to avoid feelings of disappointment in others, a persistent mistrust of others, guilt or shame about our emotional process, or a desire to avoid pain and hurt at all cost. The common thread throughout these themes seems to be a desire for self-protection through “emotional safety.”  It makes logical sense why we want to protect ourselves in this way. Vulnerable human interaction has the potential to be messy, unpredictable, and painful. The reality, however, is that when we place our highest value on self-protection in this way, we can fall into patterns of isolation, withdrawal, emotional numbing, intense emotional distress, anxiety, or feelings of loneliness and depression. We weren’t designed for self-protection and isolation; we were designed for intimate community.

I find that scripture is filled with examples of emotional displays of God toward us, and of Jesus toward others when He was on earth. The Bible often speaks about an emotional Jesus who (for the purpose of displaying God’s glory) was moved to respond to others who were experiencing suffering and pain (Matt. 9:36, Luke 7:13, Mark 1:41). I think it’s beautiful that there are also many different depictions in scripture of the emotionally intimate nature of Jesus’ relationship with his disciples (John 13; John 15:12-13; Matthew 26:36-38). These were relationships where they moved toward each other in their emotional process, not away from each other out of the fear of getting hurt. I think it’s both a difficult and beautiful example for us to follow.   

It’s easier to risk emotional vulnerability when we believe that it will be reciprocated. It’s much harder to do that when there is no guarantee of the outcome. Jesus acknowledged this in Matthew 5: 43-47 (The Message Version) “You’re familiar with the old written law, ‘Love your friend,’ and its unwritten companion, ‘Hate your enemy’. I’m challenging that. I’m telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best- the sun to warm and the rain to nourish- to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the loveable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of the-mill sinner does that.”

There’s a concept used in group counseling called a microcosm, “something (such as a place or an event) that is seen as a small version of something much larger.” What this means to me is that the way that we move toward one another within the body of Christ, specifically the confines of our church family, is likely the way we move toward others in the larger context of the world. Community in our church is the ‘practice’ of our call to move toward others in a display of God’s love and compassion. This furthering of the kingdom of God cannot be done apart from the risk of emotional vulnerability. God doesn’t just leave us reeling in the fear of losing our emotional safety though. What He calls us to He promises to help us through. Isaiah 41:10 (NLT) “Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand”.

If emotional safety is our aim, then what safer place can there be but the Father’s own hand?

Below are a few questions for further exploration, areas that God may be calling you to walk in increased emotional vulnerability both for your spiritual growth and for the furthering of the kingdom of God.

1.     Do I quench the prodding of the Holy Spirit to move toward others in emotionally vulnerable ways out of fear? If so, take some time to read through this list to see if any of these fears fit, if not, try to sit and prayerfully ask God to reveal other areas of fear to you.

       - Rejection (“They will ignore me,” “They will be invalidating toward me,” “They will think I’m being “fake,” “They will think I’m “weak,” “messy” or “dramatic)

       - Inadequacy (“I won’t have the right things to say,” “I’m socially awkward,” “I need to warm up to people,” “I don’t have a relationship with them so it will be weird for both of us”)

       - Uncertainty (“Do I really feel the Holy Spirit prompting me toward this person,” “Will they think I’m being presumptuous in sharing with them what God has placed on my heart,” “Will this person use this information against me in the future,” “Is it really my place to say this”)

2.     Are there patterns in my life where I prioritize self-protection over emotional vulnerability? Do I numb away from my emotions? Do I view emotions as an obstacle to overcome, rather than an opportunity to honor or grow in my design as an image bearer of God?

Ask God to show you practical steps toward practicing increased emotional vulnerability at church, in your marriage, in your family, in your friendships, at work, or in your community.

Ask Him to help navigate you through the potential pain and fear of emotional vulnerability, and to provide healing and restoration that will strengthen you for the ongoing nature of His high calling on your life.

—Lindsay Thompson

The Elderly Man

Not sure why this affected me so much. It was a five second incident this morning that has bothered me all day. Maybe in its telling I can find some understanding…and maybe a little peace.

I was minding my own business, deleting those infernal emails that keep popping up like pesky garden weeds in my inbox. I was early for a doctor’s appointment. Because he is associated with a university hospital across the river, my doctor’s office is part of a massive complex where several doctors practice. The waiting area is huge; there are three or four large squares of chairs situated across the spacious lobby. I had opted for a seat in the middle square near the door I knew was my physician’s.

People moved in and out but it was not particularly crowded. Some folks chatted quietly, others were reading the well-worn magazines scattered around. Many were glued to the big screen TVs hanging from the walls, anxious to hear the latest news about Hurricane Florence as she made landfall, battering the Carolinas. I perked up. My oldest son and his precious family live in Durham. I wanted to check out the most up-to-date storm tracking models.

I think that’s when I first heard him. He was asking his companion whether she was nervous about the storm. He said he had seen some pretty frightening pictures of the gusty winds and torrential rains wreaking havoc in Wilmington. He was hoping he would get home before it reached New Jersey. He anxiously checked his watch. He shook his balding head, wondering aloud if his doctor would be “backed up today.” He didn’t want his friend caught in the storm either—especially if his appointment made her late getting home to safety.

His companion may have been his daughter or granddaughter. I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure she was family.  She was very kind. She smiled at him and gently explained that the hurricane was devastating Wilmington, North Carolina, not Wilmington, Delaware, and that its fury was still very far away. He laughed at himself, then, amused at his mistake. He began to tell her about family vacations to the Outer Banks, expressing concern for places he had visited along North Carolina’s pristine coastline.

I furtively glanced up at him, curious to see who the speaker was, then returned to my phone task, smiling. He was an elderly gentleman with an obligatory walker and hearing aid to prove it. He leaned toward his friend and chattered away, flashing a charming, slightly toothless, grin her way between his stories. He was thoroughly enjoying his wait…and so was she. The minutes ticked by. His doctor—and mine—were obviously “backed up.”  

Suddenly, from an adjacent seating area, harsh, angry words were violently slung across the room. “Shut the______ up!” Then a few more expletives exploded for emphasis, poisoning the lobby space even more. I froze in my chair, hesitating to look around, my heart racing in fear and annoyance both. What was happening? The ugly words hung oppressively in the air.

Summoning my courage, I looked up and around. Except for the talkative old gent across from me still engaged in a tale, the room had gone completely and uncomfortably silent. Every other waiting patient was awkwardly busy doing something—anything—in his or her lap. I couldn’t identify who had shouted because my view of the other seating area was partially blocked by plants and people, but I definitely could identify to whom the anger was misdirected.

Blushing, the sweet companion across from me tenderly laid her arm around the old man’s shoulders. “I think we need to be a bit quieter,” she said with a forced smile. “I think we may be bothering others.” A tear tricked down her flushed cheek and she quickly brushed it aside. I felt my own eyes fill.

Now I have to be honest. I suppose the old guy may have been talking a little louder than a non-hearing impaired person would, but he was not uncomfortably loud. And I was right there, likely the closest to them. I had noticed him, probably because he was easiest to hear, but he was not bothersome in any way. I rather enjoyed eavesdropping on his conversation. It reminded me of the many days I sat with my mom in similar waiting rooms. We, too, had prattled on. I wondered if we had irked a person or two ourselves.  

I caught the embarrassed caregiver’s eye. “I’m sorry,” I said, meaning it. She gratefully smiled in my direction. I think she was relieved that not everyone agreed with the rude shouter.

The man beside her was confused. He looked over at me too. “What’s wrong?” he asked simply. He hadn’t heard her. She patted his hand and explained once again that they had better keep their conversation to a minimum since they apparently were too noisy.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he so innocently replied. He flashed me that sweet grin, one surrounded by his graying, grizzly whiskers. “I got this hearing aid thing ‘cause I don’t hear so good anymore and I guess I can’t tell if I’m talking too loud or not. Didn’t mean to bother you, miss.”

I shook my head and assured him he hadn’t troubled me a bit. I directed my attention to his friend and repeated my words. She smiled again. I wanted her to know that neither of them had done anything to deserve that hateful, verbal barrage of abuse that had come their way. And I was grateful her little old gentleman was just deaf enough not to have heard a word of it. I only wish she had been too. I wish I had been.

When they left, she touched my shoulder and thanked me for my kindness. Really? All I had done was to feel her pain. 

So I have been replaying this scene all day. Am I upset because I was reminded how awful people can be to one another—especially to such a dear old man? Am I concerned that there seems to be no old-fashioned kindness, common courtesy, understanding, nor respect for our elders anymore? Was I shocked and offended that some person thought it was okay to spout obscenities in a room full of strangers? Is it that I’m really sad about the world we are passing on to my grandkids? I’m sure these are all true. But there is more.

I think this scene has exposed something in my heart that my loving Father wants to change or refine. Not again!

You see, I left the office today quite stirred inside, but I kept reminding myself how supportive and kind I had been to the couple across from me. No one else seemed to see how embarrassed and uncomfortable that poor woman felt. No one else came to their defense and tried to encourage them. I was pretty proud of myself. I felt like a good Christian.

But, honestly, that was easy for me. I’ve loved and cared for the elderly for years. I am very conscious of them and their unique needs because of my many caregiving roles. I readily identified with that caregiver. I’ve been that caregiver. Feeling her pain and pouring my love out to her was no big deal. Feeling protective of that gentleman was quite natural.

But God didn’t just love those two folks in that office. And I think this is the rub. There was someone else in that lobby that needed grace and love extended to him as well. And loving someone so hateful and harsh IS a big deal for me. That is not easy for me.

I can’t excuse that unknown shouter’s actions, but I can imagine the underlying pain and brokenness that his actions reveal.

I wonder what would have happened if someone seated near him had looked him in the eye and whispered, “I’m sorry” and meant it. Someone who recognized how much grace and understanding that angry man needed. Someone who could beautifully represent Jesus, the only one who could really heal his dark heart and rescue him from his tumultuous rage.

Someone like me.

I think that’s why I have been so uneasy today. I missed an opportunity. I wasn’t tuned in to my King. I didn’t love like He loves.

So I am reminded once more that I don’t get to pick and choose who the Father wants me to love. While I don’t think it was a wrong or a bad thing for me to encourage the lady and her charge, I think I just quit too soon. I think there was more Kingdom work for me to do in that office.

Forgive me, Father.

—Eileen Hill

Unbelief: A Hindrance to Entering God’s Rest

Are you restless or anxious? Are you missing the rest God intends for you?

There is a clear connection between faith and entering God’s rest, between unbelief and failing to enter God’s rest. Unbelief has a way of deceiving and hardening our hearts to the point where we end up trapped in sin. Ultimately, unbelief leads to disobedience.

The chosen people of God in the Old Testament, not very different than us, are our example. Their unbelief, we are told, led them to rebellion against God’s ways and His plan for them. As a result, they provoked God and He led them through the wilderness for 40 years. Furthermore, He prevented them from entering His rest and the promised land.

So the warning given through the author of Hebrews still rings truth to us today. Two times the warning is presented to us in the following way: 

“Today, if you hear his voice,

do not harden your hearts as in the rebellion.” (Heb 3:7-8, 15)

In looking further, into chapters 3-4, we can see that entering God’s rest refers to resting from our works—just like God rested from His. It also refers to the fact that when we rest we are actually obeying God’s will and thus entering into what He has for us.

Can you recall a moment when you entered God’s rest? You knew you were trusting? You tasted the blessing of His plan?

Just in case we need good examples of what this looks like, Moses and Jesus are described as faithful ones over the house of God. In the case of Moses, he was introduced to point to a better reality. In the case of Jesus, He is the Son set over the house of God—His people. In chapter two, we are told that Jesus “was faithful to him who appointed him” (verse 2). Jesus is our ultimate example of what it means to believe, obey and enter God’s rest.

How are you struggling to believe?

How is your heart being deceived or hardened?

Any ways you can celebrate God’s rest in your life?

The Good News is that there is One who qualifies as our perfect example. His name is Jesus. But there is more. He has become the “author and perfecter” of our faith (Heb 12:2). So even when we are struggling to belief we can go to Him—He is able to perfect what we cannot perfect on our own efforts. 

Take courage. Where there is a hindrance to belief there is a Savior who is committed to make our faith complete.

—Diego Cuartas