This is an invitation. A call for those in the wilderness. Trust God’s truth to guide you through.
As the global health and economic pandemic escalates, so are your concerns about your livelihood and ability to survive this crisis at a time when you were already facing catastrophic shifts.
Custody battles, separation, and divorce are unplanned events that can leave your soul parched and your land desolate during what may feel like a season of wilderness in a thirsty desert.
Uncultivated and uncertain places can be scary, especially if you are alone. But God promises that He will comfort you and will turn your wasteland into a garden of joy.
Indeed, the LORD will comfort Zion; He will comfort all her waste places And her wilderness He will make like Eden, And her desert like the garden of the LORD; Joy and gladness will be found in her, Thanksgiving and sound of a melody. ~ Isaiah 51:3, NKJV
Mama, negative feelings around your ability to manage a household through difficult times can disrupt personal thoughts or beliefs about yourself. You may even deem yourself incapable of the discipline that is required to journey the wilderness alone.
Do you desire full restoration and recovery, but doubt if you can get you there safely?
Do you harbor a false perception of self that causes you to abandon God’s truth in exchange for a lie?
God wants you to know that believing self-defeating lies are blocking your progress. It’s time to align your belief system with His comforting truth.
Trusting God’s truth takes time. Are you ready to go deeper?
Do you believe God is the conductor of your soul? A conductor who can help you play the greatest symphony pieces within? The word symphony comes from an ancient Greek word that means “a sounding together.” When you find your rhythms, you start to play a harmony that is pleasing to your soul.
You don’t have to overload yourself with difficult goals or resolutions. You just need your mind, body and the Spirit of the Lord within. Feeling tired, overwhelmed, anxious, angry, depressed are all signs your body is screaming for help, mama.
Each season brings new rhythms. It’s taken many years and hard work for me to find freedom from addiction, unhealthy mindsets, abuse, fear, unforgiveness, pride, depression, anxiety, and anger.
And trust me, Jesus is still doing a mighty work in me!
But how do we get out of Sync from our natural, healthy rhythms?
Running toward me from the security of her warm bed, those little feet pitter-pattering with a scurried beat of pleading, she begged me to let him in. Her precious heart, broken and frantic. Her need great.
Torn between two worlds, I wanted to gift the request her sweet heart so desperately desired. One hard yes from me would have opened the door. A young family arguably united and for that evening, a little girl happy.
I set on the foot of the bed, holding my littlest one in one arm and wiping the tears streaming down my face with the other. I set there with little desire to move from the comfort of my bedroom.
It was just passed 8 a.m. and my husband stood in the doorway. His blank face showed zero ability to decide on his next steps as he faced a busy workday and great need for me to pull it together.
Backed into a self-inflicted corner, with a to-do list I clung to, I could barely breathe.
A moment, drenched in overwhelm, had forced its way into our home.
For both of us, the word overwhelm came nothing close to an explanation of the emotional chaos we felt that morning.
They had gone flat out ignored or unattended.
But this day, arriving with an early morning southern California breeze, pushed its way onto the scene. In all my exasperation, my usual ability to drive myself forward had reached, in all seriousness, an all-time low.
Confused and starring at the floor as if it were a road leading the way, I was officially stuck.
This is my most recent overwhelm story and the one I want to connect with you on.
Summer 2007, heading up and over one of the big mountain tops on my way to Vegas for a five-year stretch, I felt the stir of adventure and excitement. The people I would meet, the foods I would eat and the many adventures I would discover.
But that moment of excitement and ponder was hastily interrupted by these words.
Fear. Unfortunately, it exists. I like to think that I am untouchable by its presence but that simply is not the case. And so it is, thus far on this short journey on planet earth, I’ve yet to be convinced fear will ever be eradicated. From my life and yours.
But I also don’t believe we should do things afraid.
So what does that mean for those of us who struggle with fear?
I walked through those doors pretty certain of the outcome. If I had to put money on it, I would’ve bet a win. For me. As I set waiting for the judge to come out to deliver his truth, I wrote this one line, “God, your will be done. Not mine.”
Then our turn came. The request I was asking for would be decided. The peace I was trying to give my daughter would be on the line. And it was in the hands and at the mercy of a Los Angeles County judge.
While on hold for the court’s lunch break, I had hoped while enjoying his pb&j sandwich or milk and cookies, this judge would be hit with the epiphany of truth. I was hoping his stack of cookies would give him the wisdom to ask the right questions and my girl would get an extended break from the emotional rollercoaster that she so desperately needed.
But that wasn’t the case. That wasn’t the case at all.
With a gorgeous desert backdrop and rarely hesitating to shovel some of his savory life tips my way, he leaned back in his patio chair relishing in a favorite cigar.
“It’s how you play your hand.”
At thirty-eight, I enjoyed more than ever hearing my dad’s superpower — wisdom. My dad’s always had a sweet way of pouring into my hungry heart.
I know there is pain that I do not know, nor will I ever know all the pain delivered by this worlds heavy hand. I’m a firm believer we all suffer in deep places of discomfort to a degree that is painfully hard for each of us. The point of which we feel that pain arrives at different seasons and ages for each of us.
It is what we choose to do with the cards dealt us that separates, as they say, the wheat from the chaff.
Few things in life we learn are worth mentioning. Like tieing your shoes. We’ve all done it. Right? Boiling water. Not exactly brain surgery material. Taking out the trash. Ya. Good job.
And then there are the life lessons that come in time. Like enduring multiple storms and seasons of laborious heartache and pain to finally understand that in the middle of the storm, in the waiting rooms of our lives, it can be very easy to waste precious time.
We do this all too often.
When we are in the muck and mud of things, trying to dig ourselves out, why do we often pick up the wrong tools? Or just the opposite, when we are in a time of ease and good transition why do we not take notes and prepare our hearts for hard times, as if the hard seasons won’t come and go.
A lovely and very wise Indonesian friend of mine said it like this…
The first time I spoke with her was over the phone. She wanted to go to college, and I was working at the University of Phoenix as an enrollment counselor.
Her goal was to obtain a degree in art, and because she was in and out of the hospital with ongoing medical issues, she would need a college that would allow her to earn an education online.
I must admit, I had reservations about her physical ability to move forward in the completion of an associate degree, but it was her persistence, confidence, and determination that told me otherwise. She was going to college regardless of my enrolling her or not. I came to the decision that I was glad to be a part of her journey. I was more than excited to be the enrollment counselor who would cheer her on and help her succeed in whatever way was presented to me.
And that I did.
But what I didn’t know was that our crossing of paths that day on the phone would turn into an eight-year friendship where she would be the one enrolling me into a classroom of mine own. A class that would teach me life long lessons of love, courage, and friendship.