Stasi's Blog
Thwarted.
It’s getting close to the New Year and so it’s as good a time as ever to look back, take stock, sit with Jesus and together with him, ask where he’d like you to grow, to focus or to challenge yourself in this next season of your life. My desires for this past year were deep: to grow in knowing the heart of my Father, as I never have known it before and to become stronger. In every way. Here’s the encouraging thing…I believe those desires flowed straight from his heart. I still do. That’s the thing about asking him what he wants for you and asking what it is that you really desire. The two meet. And knowing it’s his desire as well as your own brings the fuel to press on when the exuberance of the beginning wears off. If you have been keeping along with this little sporadic blog of mine then you would have noticed that God has been coming for me. He’s answered my prayer to know him as Father more deeply than I could have imagined and my journey of wonder and amazement continues. Physically, I’ve been on the mission to reclaim lost ground in my strength and health. And I have been getting stronger. Measurably. One of the joys of becoming more physically fit has been sharing the experience with my husband. Working out together. “Running” together has become our new normal and we love it. Well, we did love it until a little more than two months ago. That’s when I asked my body to do more than it was ready to do and I hurt my lower back. I hurt it badly, which affected my piriformis (big butt muscle under the glute), which pressed against the sciatic nerve, which stopped me in my tracks. It’s been pain and hobbling and an inability to lift my leg an inch off the floor for a long time, and the prognosis is at best that I’m halfway to recovery. Maybe two more months. Maybe four. And then the slow process of regaining strength begins. Again. I’ve been thwarted. It happens. It’s a bummer. I’m not complaining. Okay, yes I am, but come on, it hurts! (So MANY of you know what I’m talking about!) But it has made me more aware of all the people around me shuffling or using canes or needing the mechanical cart at the grocery store. It’s made me think of and pray for all those I know and those I don’t who live with constant pain. It makes me remember the years that I suffered with deep depression and lived under a heavy cloak of despair slogging my way through to Life. It makes me wonder how I pressed on through that and how marvelously God has come for me. It also has made me realize that I had become insensitive to the massive amounts of humanity surrounding me that are hurting and suffering daily. I’m not sure how I forgot. The mercy thing that’s coming from my experience is a good thing. The awareness of some people’s impatience with my slowness is a sad revelation. But my own occasional battles with discouragement have, well, discouraged me. Don’t you hate it when things surface in your heart that you didn’t know were there? Of course I’d get discouraged. Of course pain brings me to tears sometimes. So where is the mercy for myself? How can I be gentle with others when internally I berate myself? My husband once found me lying on the floor crying over the pain and my failure to live well in it and adamantly, forcefully even, caught my heart saying that my interpretation was untrue. That I’m handling it amazingly well. It’s just that inside I don’t feel that way. I’m aware of my impatience. My irritation. I’m feeling like I’m not handling it well at all and that I’m a weakling. Anybody relate? I’m so grateful that earlier in the year God came for me and revealed his overwhelming, all encompassing, always-been-there-and-not-going-anywhere love for me—for all of us—in new and life changing ways, for it has buoyed me in the midst of my injury. I have not questioned his goodness or his love for me. But the very day I said that out loud turned out to be the very first day I did. DANG IT. I’ve been thwarted. Did he thwart me? I don’t think so. I think injuries happen in this world. I met a woman who was suffering from the same injury as mine and she got it while transferring the laundry from the washer to the dryer. Sheesh. I don’t believe God caused it, but man oh man is he using it. I hate asking for help and I need to and it’s humbling but also teaching me. (How’s that for a sentence?) I’m being stretched into the uncomfortable but oh so necessary realm of receiving. I liked believing that I am capable. I don’t like not being able to stand for long enough periods of time to make dinner or clean up after it or shop in the grocery store or put away the laundry. Walking to the mailbox is out of my realm for the moment. And yes, I’m doing physical therapy and pool therapy and stretching and everything I can to hasten the healing. I even got a steroid shot. And you bet I’m praying. I’m blessing my body and consecrating it to God and asking for healing. So I’m not asking for advice here or even sympathy. I just want to speak the truth even when it’s not pretty and say, I’m sorry for forgetting. I want to grow at being merciful to myself so that I can be merciful to others. I want to get better. I want to walk around the block. I don’t like things being stolen. I hate being thwarted. But at one time or another, no, at many times and many more, we all are. We ALL are. And then what? It’s the “then what?” that matters. My hope for this New Year includes that what is surfacing in my heart that isn’t very pretty be like dross bubbling to the surface and removed. Let me be more deeply cleansed. Let God use it to make me more like the woman we both want me to be. Let it change me in good, softening, and holy ways. Let me get better. Let me not forget. So, thwarting be damned. But let his glory be increased. And if it hurries up, well then, so much the better. In the meantime…mercy, friends.
Stasi Eldredge
The Illusion of the Perfect
Scrooge was haunted by the spirits of Christmas Past, Present and Future and it led to his redemption. I am haunted by the illusion of the Perfect Christmas. May it lead to mine. How many cookies must I bake for my home to feel as sweet as a Bavarian Bakery? How many rooms must I decorate with sprigs of evergreen and boughs of holly before a chorus of Fa La La La La’s lighten every heart? How do I think of, select, and wrap the perfect gift that conveys, “I see you. You matter. I’ve been paying attention”? How many twinkle lights will fill my home with the Light I am after? And how do I ward off the feeling that I am failing miserably to do any of this? I don’t know. You would think that after all these years I would have given up but I haven’t. My longing to convey love is not diminished though the number of cookies I bake is. The number of rooms I decorate has lessened dramatically but my desire to recapture something of the holiness of Christmas this side of Paradise and make room for the tangible Presence of God has only increased. How about you? Here’s an idea. Let’s take the pressure off. Pressure kills. It kills relationships. It kills joy. It kills our ability to enjoy the partial that we are given to relish. It’ll kill our Christmas celebrations. Pressure even numbs our awareness of the glory of Emmanuel – Christ with us. Pressure takes us out. And we want to be present – to offer the gift of our presence to those around us is actually the greatest gift we can give them. The loved ones in our lives don’t want a marvelous gift from a harried and pressured giver. They want us. They want our love given with a free hand that is an alluring fragrance of our Jesus. Holidays – Holy Days - are not given to us to rise to the mandate of perfection but to rest and remember – to enjoy the gifts our holy God has given to us by his free hand and to receive his gifts with humbled awe and gratefulness. We can’t wrap enough presents to respond in this way, we can only ask for the grace to wrap our hearts around this truth. God wants our hearts open and ready. He invites us to live from a place of trust and rest, not a place of pressure and demand. We can demand so much of ourselves, can’t we? So let’s just get it out in the open. No one’s Christmas is going to be perfect. But perfection IS COMING. On that day our longings and desires will be met with a filling that is currently incomprehensible. Our Christmas on this side will not be perfect but it can be holy. It can be glorious. It can be good. I’m being invited to lay down the illusion that I can pull this thing off. Instead of that pressure, I’m being invited to rest in the love of God and remember that he alone is perfect and he loves perfectly. This babe in a manger, this Lamb of God, this Lion of Judah, this God of angel armies, this Savior of the World has come. He is coming. He is coming again. And when he comes in all his glory, every dream will come true for the richest among us and the poorest. For the most healthy and the most infirm. For the most seemingly blessed and the most horrifically oppressed. Jesus is coming again. Justice is coming. Love has already won and on that final and first day of Ultimate Triumph no illusion will shadow our hearts. And so we wait eagerly as we hope earnestly. Remember and rest. The Way, the Truth and the Life reign supreme. We welcome you, Jesus. Into the depths of who we are. Into our celebrations. Into our Christmas day and into all our days. Into our hearts, our homes and our world. Oh come, oh come Emmanuel.
Stasi Eldredge
Crashing In
It was to a dark world that Jesus came. Light came into the darkness. And as you know, where there is no light, darkness reigns. Last week there was a shooting in Colorado Springs staged at the Planned Parenthood close to our home. Nine people were injured, three were killed. The funeral for the fallen police officer was yesterday. Over 150 police cars in procession with people lining the street was a holy and sobering sight. I didn’t know any of the people hurt or killed but those who did know them are just one step away from me. Several friends of mine knew and loved these people. Their children go to school together. One man’s wife led my friend to Christ. You get the idea. A few weeks back there was another shooting in Colorado Springs. It took place one block from my son’s house. Paris. Beirut. Syria. Russia. Washington. North Carolina. Texas. Southern California. Next door. The list goes on. Killing. Shooting. Maiming. Even if you don’t read or watch the news, you can’t get away from it. I needed to update this blog because as I wrote it an hour later the deadliest shooting in the United States since the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting that shook and shocked our nation to its core took place. I told my husband not that a shooting took place but that another shooting took place. I am praying for all those people and families involved even as a manhunt is taking place in Redlands where dear friends of ours live. And you know the end of that story. Still questions rise. “WHY?” The answer is, because of evil. I cry out like you cry out, “Jesus!!! Help. Come. Help. Come. Intervene!” These are troubling times to say the very least. Light came not into the light but into the Darkness. And it is very dark. Evil seems to have its way no matter what plans are in place to keep it in check. I’m not saying anything new. This world is a dark place. Evil has come crashing in all over the world. Civilians slaughtered. It is getting worse AND there is nothing new under the sun. But light has come crashing in, too. Jesus has come crashing in. He “snuck into the enemy’s camp disguised as a babe.” The Ancient of Days bested the enemy and defeated him at the cross. He is victorious. He has won. Light shines into the darkness and the darkness is vanquished. And yet. And yet here we are living in the in between times. We find ourselves in the already and the not yet. Francis Schaeffer wrote, “How Shall We Then Live?” and it remains a good question. Perhaps it is the most important question. How then shall we live? Cowering in fear or living in victory knowing that nothing and no one can separate us from the love of God. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38, 39) We live knowing that this is not our home. We live fighting for justice, being a voice for the voiceless. We live with the battle cry that Jesus has come, has come for you and we stand ready to give an account for the hope that resides in us. We have a hope that defies fear. We have a hope that defies cruelty and suffering. We have a hope that is victorious over all darkness. Because we have the Light of the world. And he has and is coming and would love to come again today – crashing in. Even so, come Lord Jesus.
Stasi Eldredge
Where there are No Oxen, the Manger is Clean.
That’s what John used to say to me when I despaired over the disaster our home became after the whirlwind of our children passed through. Not a very flattering comparison but one I understood. And he just said it again because I had the luxurious gift of having my children home for Thanksgiving. Baby, this manger isn’t clean. How many glasses does one person need to drink out of in a day? Apparently it’s a minimum of three. Three times eight = twenty-four glasses spread out over the kitchen counter, the living room and mysterious places around the house. And that’s just before lunch. This place is littered with stacks of books and cozy blankets strewn haphazardly around. There are pillows missing. Empty bags of chips. Empty bottles of Ginger Brew. The two children who live in Spokane left this morning and I am discovering the remnants of their visit everywhere. This manger is not clean. I am so very glad. It was a little different, this Thanksgiving. I injured my glut a few weeks ago and I’m hobbling around using a cane, which helps some. But I move slowly. And it’s kind of hard to focus. That said, no dish came out unscathed this year. Ooops! I forgot to add the broth! Oh, dang it, cinnamon was supposed to go in that! The turkey is filling the house with smoke! WHY? Yikes, I just dropped a mug and it broke into 100 pieces. “Let’s play a game!” comes the cry from the other room while a daughter in law is cleaning up my mess. I’ll admit it. I like to be on top of my game. And I’m so not. I kept telling myself that it was more important that I be present to my family than that the food was perfect. A perfectly prepared Thanksgiving dinner where the main preparer is taken out by exhaustion and the illusion of perfection is not what we gathered for. So I gave up on perfection early on and reminded myself that the food wasn’t the point. Being together and loving one another was the point. The prayer, “Love”. “Help me to love.” “Oh Father, you who are perfect love, please fill me with your love and love through me” was one I uttered often. And he answered. There was joy, laughter and the sharing of stories from the past year for which we were grateful. Love reigned and provided a rich background of feasting and the meal was, shall we say, the cherry on top. It was, as I most longed for, a taste of the feast to come. And I am so very thankful. I am now surrounded by quiet and a whirlwind manger of mess that soon will be, like my children, gone. And I’ll take it.
Stasi Eldredge
Distraction
I have so much to do this Saturday morning, afternoon…day. It’s time to play catch up. The laundry is almost finished. Okay, there’s a pile on the couch, but hey, they’re clean, they don’t count. I’m close. It’s the pile of bills on the kitchen table that’s the mountain I need to conquer. It is calling me. I do feel a sort of victory that I have placed them so centrally. I cannot ignore them. There they are, challenging me. Soon, yes, really soon, I am going heed their insistent and vital call. Electricity is, after all, a nice thing to keep going. So of course, I’m making a collage. It makes perfect sense. I’m flipping through magazines and the multitude of catalogs, searching for perfect motivational, truth-telling quotes and words for myself, because I think that is what I need. Heat? Come on. I need Mod Podge, scissors, and a thick piece of paper. And eureka! I’ve just learned how cool it looks to carefully tear around the words rather than simply cut them in a straight line! An artistic discovery has been made. Valiantly I press on. I am choosing to play rather than work. Inside. Where it’s warm. Because of the heat. Oh, how easily I get distracted. I do know what’s important. I know what my priorities ought to be. That’s why I’m writing this little blog instead of first praying the Daily Prayer. (Cue chagrined emoticon.) Practice what you preach, sister. (Hey, maybe there’s a way to put that on my collage! Whoops, I digress. ) I’m going to pause. I need Jesus more than I need self-expression and certainly more than I need the vast array of alternatives parading through my mind. I’ll be back later. I need to center my heart in the Truth. - - - I’m back. I’ve paid the bills. Now that I’ve discovered online banking, it didn’t even take that long. It’s the literal use of a knife to slit the top, pull them out, discover what they say, make the various piles, and figure out which ones need attention now and which ones can wait that threatens to overwhelm me. Thank you notes can do me in, too. Responding to emails. Exercising. Taking the dogs for their needed walk. Making the bed. Dusting. Vacuuming. Attending to the piles that spring up everywhere. Brushing my teeth. Oy. Collage time. What is it with me? Meyers Briggs helps to explain my bent, but my personality is not my destiny. I have the mind of Christ and so do you. I have the Holy Spirit as my Guide and my Strength and my Intimate Friend. It’s simply the choice to attend to what really matters that I so often find difficult. The choice to be responsible. The choice to care for my soul. The choice to press into Jesus. The choice to stop what I’m doing and simply BE with Jesus in quiet, in prayer, in worship. To walk with Him through the requirements of life—the bill paying and cleaning up and tending to the gift of this life that He has given me. To choose to be thankful that I can pay the bills and have heat and when it’s appropriate, take the time to be creative! Oh, Father, come and guide me this day into all the good gifts that you have for me (which include the satisfied feeling of ruling my God given domain). Rein in my wandering soul. Rein me in, oh, faithful God. Rein me in to the here-and-now and in the practical expressions of living a life of faith, hope, and love. Grow me up to choose to mature in You and not give way to distractions that keep me from pressing into Your vast, good heart. Reign in me. Oh, I just received a text. Better look! NO! I’ll wait. I need more of Jesus. In order to live and love and be the woman I need to be this day, I need extended time with my God. He’s my life and I need to catch up with Him.
Stasi Eldredge
It's Raining.
There are people who love autumn, people whose favorite season is the fall. There are people who begin to decorate for Christmas at the first whiff of coolness in the air. There are people who dream of winter and cocoa by a fire and snuggling up under a blanket to read. Okay, yes. That part's sounding really pretty good, but I AM A SUMMER GIRL. Summer. Summer. Summer. Summer. SUMMER! I kind of leave summer – or rather, it leaves me – kicking and pouting. Sometimes crying. Sometimes not believing that good is still coming. I don’t know how long it’s going to take for me to trust God, but I’m growing. Trust is growing in me. It’s not so much the summer that I love as the expressions of God’s beauty displayed in it. And God is in the autumn,too. He’s in the winter, the spring, and the summer to come. Rhythms of his grace surround me and precede me. There is beauty all around if I will but open the eyes of my heart to welcome it. One of my favorite memories took place during a time away on a personal retreat near Buena Vista, Colorado. It was…autumn. (Surprise!) I had gone for a walk in the woods following a path along a stream. The aspens had turned their glorious golden hue and in the slight breeze were shedding their flower-like leaves. The path was strewn with gold as I softly padded along. “Well, if the streets in heaven are gold like THIS, then that will be beautiful!” Sometimes I surprise myself. My unconscious thoughts emerge in the most unexpected of times. I realized that I had pictured the streets of gold in heaven as solid and hard, cold and undesirable. But this gold – this living, moving exhibition – was filled with splendor. Surely our divinely gorgeous and creative God will outdo himself beyond my best but limited imagination! I sat down on a fallen tree and soaked it in. I was surrounded by glory. All my senses were taking in the wondrous works of our God. The fragrant earth. The rippling stream. The gentle cool breeze. The feel of the wood beneath me. I could practically taste the pungent season. I talked with God. I listened to his still, small voice. And I didn’t want to leave. But eventually, my time ran out and sadly, I had to get up and return. I saw that I could take a different path back, one that was new to me. It curved in the distance and I could not see what was coming. “Just like your life.” God whispered. Yes, I thought, just like my life. “There is beauty ahead, Stasi. But you will never see it, never experience it, if you choose to stay where you are.” Big sigh. I chose the new path. My eyes were open and expectant for the fresh gifts that my God had for me. Correction: that he HAS for me. For he holds the future. He precedes us. And because he does, a great good is coming because he is there. So fall is here and it’s raining. And I welcome both it and all the good that is ahead! “As I lay, with my eyes closed, I began to listen to the sound of the leaves overhead. At first, they made sweet, inarticulate music alone; but, by-and-by, the sound seemed to begin to take shape, and to be gradually molding itself into words; till, at last, I seemed able to distinguish these, half-dissolved in a little ocean of circumfluent tones: 'A great good is coming — is coming — is coming to thee, Anodos'; and so over and over again.” ~ George MacDonald, Phantastes
Stasi Eldredge
Why Strong Girl? Why Strong Women?
I want to clarify why I've been writing about all this Strong Girl stuff. Why #stronggirl? Because I want to help raise up a generation (even those of us above their 50’s like me) who will press through – press through sin, harm, stereotypes, negative self-talk, addictions, abuse, societal limitations, restrictions, constraining definitions of beauty and femininity, failures, low expectations, loss of hope and many wounds. I want them to LIVE wholeheartedly. To believe God. To stand firm in Jesus and follow Him, listen to Him first, last and in between. I want them to LOVE. To love God and to love others. I want them to be strong enough to stand against the world’s raging current and bring the Kingdom of God wherever they are. To that end, they will need to know, WE need to know, that it’s being strong in Christ that is BEAUTIFUL. It’s from Jesus, that we can receive a deep sense of value, worth, and dignity. We can be strong in spirit and in integrity. We can be “Every Day Strong” because we are leaning into Jesus. He is our life and breath and being. We need to increasingly learn that our lives are no longer our own – that we have died with Christ and it is now His Spirit that lives in and through us – partnering with us, strengthening us, guiding us, comforting us, cheering us on – loving us as we have longed to be loved and need to be loved and ARE LOVED by the King of Love. Knowing that and growing in that makes for one Strong Girl. One mightily Strong Woman. And I want to be one. I want Jesus to be my strong even in my most weak, broken and doubt filled seasons. He is my life. Oh, to have girls – get that NOW. So that’s why. Why the T-shirts. Why I’ve highlighted examples of strong women on my Facebook page. To cast a vision. To encourage. To help us remember that it’s possible whatever our story. We are not alone. We are never abandoned. Let’s press on by His strength together! Yah, so that’s why. With such love and hope, Stasi Eph 6:10, Proverbs 18:10, Ps 73:26, Col 3:3
Stasi Eldredge
Lessons on the Stairs
I don’t like stairs. I don’t do them well. I take a step up and my left knee lets me know that cartilage is a word I should understand. Still, back in May, I felt God’s nudge for me to commit to “doing the Incline”. My first reaction was that He was nuts. At least, that’s what I thought of everyone else who did the Incline. Seems they do it for fun. Fun? Perhaps they don’t know what the word means. Fun = enjoyment, amusement, or lighthearted pleasure. Key word…pleasure. Sweat and pleasure are not words that go together in my head. Or at least, they weren’t. Well, maybe they were a few years back but that was a few years back. I’m doing the State of Slim program outlined in the book of the same name. Research shows that to lose weight, nutrition is the driving force. To keep the weight off, exercise is paramount. With that in mind, one of the key facets to the program is exercising 6 days a week for a minimum of 70 minutes. And yes, I have been doing it. Just ask my knees. They call sweating, “Making your fat cry.” I really like that. Cry away baby. So…I did the incline. Because God told me to commit to it and because I told you in a previous blog that I would. This was my practice run. I thought I’d bail at the half waypoint with no shame whatsoever. I didn’t. I made it to the top one slow step after the other and my fat wasn’t crying, it was wailing and gnashing its teeth. But it wasn’t merely hard. It was holy. In front of me, setting the pace was my son Blaine followed closely by his wife Emilie. Now, these two are in shape. Just to let you know how good of shape, Blaine climbed the Incline with my younger son a couple of years ago with a municycle (think mountain bike meets unicycle) strapped to each of their backs. They did this so they could ride down the Barr trail after reaching the top. By the way, it’s 1 mile up with an elevation gain of over 2,000 feet and 4 miles back down using the side trail. Did I mention the municylcle? All that to say is, Blaine could have run up the Incline. But he didn’t. He was ever before me keeping the pace at a slow and steady rhythm. People passed us and then later on, we passed them as they gasped for breath. Blaine knew what he was doing. Behind me was my husband, John. He is another person who is in fantastic shape. I would feel his touch gentle on my back a few times as we went up just to let me know he was there. And once, once he caught me as I lost my balance and slipped on the dirt. He Was Right There. He never even thought of passing me. I was surrounded. I was surrounded by family and a great cloud of witnesses supporting me, cheering me on, encouraging me, believing in me, going the distance with me. I was surrounded by love. I was surrounded by mercy. I was surrounded by their humble sacrifice and I was weeping. That’s what I mean by holy. It was their choice to accompany me and they would say it was their joy. They were JOYFUL. My sweat was dripping on the dirt in front of me, my tears streaming down my face, plop, plop, plop and THEY WERE JOYFUL. It was for the joy set before Him that Jesus endured the cross. He didn’t have to. He chose to. You and I are forever surrounded by love. We are surrounded by mercy. We are surrounded by our King’s humble sacrifice and it is worth our grateful tears. God invites us to do hard things but He never abandons us in them. He helps us to prepare. He strengthens us on the way. He urges us on. He delights in our tries and he celebrates our victories. He rejoices over us with singing. He relishes our faith. He loves it when we make our flesh weep and gnash its teeth. As I climbed the Incline, I had my headset on, music playing in my ears. “Strong Enough” by Matthew West was a theme. Know that one? You must think I'm strong To give me what I'm going through Well, forgive me Forgive me if I'm wrong But this looks like more than I can do On my own I know I'm not strong enough to be everything that I'm supposed to be I give up I'm not strong enough Hands of mercy won't you cover me Lord right now I'm asking you to be Strong enough Strong enough For the both of us Well, maybe Maybe that's the point To reach the point of giving up Cause when I'm finally Finally at rock bottom Well, that's when I start looking up And reaching out I know I'm not strong enough to be Everything that I'm supposed to be I give up I'm not strong enough Hands of mercy won't you cover me Lord right now I'm asking you to be Strong enough Strong enough It was pretty perfect. God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. If He tells me to do something then I know He will give me the strength to do it. One foot in front of the other. One step at a time. Beloved, we can trust Him. Is He asking you to do something difficult? He will give you the strength. Psalm 28:7, Hebrews 12:2, Ephesians 2:10, Lamentations 3:22, 23, Phil 2:5, Zeph 3:17 P.S. I’m committing to doing the Incline again at the end of this month. I’ll post the date on my Stasi Eldredge Facebook page when I know it and if you’d like to join me, one slow step at a time, please do!
Stasi Eldredge
Choose Your Hard
This blog is a bit of a confession. Here goes. I thought that following God and being a Christian would lead to a life that was kind of easy, filled only with joy, free from pain and sorrow. Silly me. I’m not even sure where I got that idea except for teachings often spouted by popular TV evangelists espousing a prosperity “name it and claim it” doctrine. It tickles the ears, doesn’t it? It’s so appealing this thought that if you are a true believer you are spared suffering. It is also completely contrary to what the scriptures teach. If Jesus was perfected through his suffering, who are we to think we won’t be perfected through the same means? (Heb 2:10) Now don’t get me wrong. Jesus came that we might have life and life to the FULL. (John 10:10) It’s the JOY of the LORD that is our strength. (Neh 8:10) It’s just that the JOY and the LIFE come to us in the midst of the easy and the hard, the triumphs and the travails. Christ sustains us and strengthens us but this is not Eden we find ourselves living in these days. We are not in Heaven. Not yet. Life is hard. Life is good. And life is hard. As maturing believers, we have many opportunities to CHOOSE OUR HARD. Here’s some things I’ve learned: It’s hard to stand up against the group when they are going the wrong direction – spiritually or any other way. It’s hard on our conscious afterwards if we don’t. That Jiminy Cricket won’t be quiet. It’s hard to be kind to the mean, curmudgeonly neighbor. It’s hard as well to be convicted of being unloving later. It’s hard to not spend the money on the item we so desire. It’s hard to save money. It’s also hard to be in debt. It’s hard to have a loving but tough confrontational conversation with a friend. It’s hard to not have one and then have offense and distance creep into that friendship. It’s hard to fight for a marriage. It’s hard to lose a marriage. It’s hard to break an addiction. It’s hard to be captive to one. Choose your hard. It’s hard to set aside time every single day and press into the heart of God. Sometimes, it’s hard to pray. It’s hard to find the time. It’s hard to live your day with strength, hope and integrity if you don’t. It’s hard to pursue Living Water. It’s hard to live in a dry and thirsty land without it. Choose your hard. It’s hard to eat healthy. It’s hard to plan meals that are good for you. It’s hard to say no to temptation and pass the plate of brownies to others without taking one. It’s hard to set the alarm and get out of bed when you are tired and get up to exercise on a regular basis. It’s hard. It’s hard to be out of breath after climbing a set of stairs. It’s hard to not be able to fit into a chair with arms. It’s hard to squeeze into an airplane seat. It’s hard to not find any cute clothes in your size. It’s hard to not like looking at pictures of yourself. It’s hard to live with shame and embarrassment. Choose your hard. It’s hard to fight for and guard your heart. It’s hard to lose it. We get to choose our hard. Think about your life. It’s not all hard. There’s so much good and there are countless things to be grateful for. In fact, one of my habits is to utter the words, “Thank You” as soon as I wake up. My life is hidden in Christ and my life is blessed because of him. It’s so good to cultivate a grateful heart. I have no idea what is coming my way on any given day and neither do you but why not expect good things? In fact, I can tell you this with utter certainty, good things are ALWAYS COMING YOUR WAY. A great good is coming. A greater good than you can even imagine. I also play “The Best Day of My Life” by American Authors when I work out in the morning. I’m going to set it as my ring tone. Because, really, it may just be the best day of my life. I won’t truly know until much later. I can guess that there are going to be hard things in the day. In every day. But the hard I am choosing is to follow Christ wherever he leads and that hard leads to life and joy. Always. Even in the midst of suffering. Choose life. Choose joy. Choose thankfulness. Choose Jesus. Choose to obey. Choose the good. Choose your hard wisely. P.S. For those that are interested, “Choose your hard” is a phrase I learned recently while reading “State of Slim” by Drs. James Hill and Holly Wyatt. It’s a book to help folks who want to lose weight and become stronger, healthier in every way. I am following their program and I recommend it to anyone who, like me, has some weight to lose and strength to gain. It’s not a diet. It’s a lifestyle. And it’s hard. I’m choosing it.
Stasi Eldredge
No Fear in Love
Summer in Colorado is a marvelous thing. The people that populate the state are some of the fittest in the nation and rate as the slimmest. Come summer, gyms empty and the outdoor activities, always rampant, explode. Hiking. Climbing. Running. Biking. Racing. Swimming. If it’s outdoors, they’re doing it and my family is in the thick of them. Or rather, my husband and my children are in the thick of it. For many years, my not fit and not slim body has prevented me from joining them. But that’s only partly true. What has kept me from participating is…fear. And now they want to go down the Colorado River in inflatable single kayaks and navigate the rapids with joy. Do I stay or do I go? Years past, I would have been afraid the rental company wouldn’t have the required life vest to fit me. I’d be afraid that I might not fit in the kayak. I’d even be afraid that I’d have to go to the bathroom half way down and there would be no place to stop. I was afraid that I’d be too afraid to ask them to stop! I was afraid that I’d hit a rock and go under but much more terrified that someone in my family would. Who thinks this stuff is fun? Do not give way to fear. (1 Pet 3:5) God has not given us a spirit of fear but of love, power and a sound mind. (2 Tim 1:7) Fear is a familiar companion to many of us but it tries to hide its true nature and stay in the shadows of our souls. “I’m not here. This is just wisdom”, it lies. But fear is not our ally, not our friend, and definitely not our helper. Still for most, it runs deep. It causes us to not trust. It came to us through wounds and pain and because of it, we shrink back. But we do not belong to those who shrink back. (Hebrews 10:39) At least we are not meant to. Fear causes us to make agreements like, “I cannot trust you will stay so I will do everything in my power to make you stay.” Or, “I cannot trust that I will not be hurt so I will keep my distance from everyone.” Or “I cannot trust that you will not be hurt so I will do my best to keep you as safe as possible in every conceivable way.” Yet God wants us to trust. To trust Him. Often times in the scriptures, the word “trust” had been translated to “faith”. Perhaps it’s easier to understand when we substitute “trust” back into some of the scriptures. “Without trust, it is impossible to please God.” “Hold up the shield of trust”. Because God is nothing if not trustworthy. He is good. He is faithful. He is for us. He has proven it. “For God so loved the world that he sent his one and only son that whosoever believe in him will not perish but have eternal life!" (John 3:16) That is, life with Him! United forever! YAY! God is trustworthy and is moved only by love. Yesterday. Today. Forever. Look around. Look at the beauty and the splendor of creation. Look at the majesty presented in the sunrise, in the sunset, and in the stars; the sky is strewn with abundant glory. Look at the generous extravagance displayed in a field of wild flowers, in a bee, in a tree, in a baby. Look even at the Colorado River flowing with endless whimsy, wonder and strength. Look at you. You are fearfully and wonderfully made, a vessel of the Holy Spirit, the very dwelling place of God because HE LOVES YOU and wants to share your life with you every single moment. He is our Partner. He is our Ally. He is our Friend. He is our Helper. We can trust him. And because we can trust him, we no longer have to live in fear but we can step out in trust…in faith…and live with His strength. Where is He inviting you to trust Him? With your family? With your lack of one? With an adventure, a move, a class, a friendship, a kayak trip? Where is He asking you to step out in faith and not go forward in your own strength, but His? In your own healing? In pursuing more of His life for you, in you? Finally, be strong in the Lord and the strength of his might. Eph 6:10. Yes, of course, there is a place for wisdom. Wisdom is essential. Don’t go jumping off a bridge. Don’t throw your precious heart out there for everyone. Guard your heart and wear your seat belts. Helmets and life vests are your friend. And, yes, the world is in disarray and chaos. Grief, loss, suffering, and all kinds of pain are real. They’re even guaranteed. Even so, yes, even so, we don’t have to live in fear. We can pray: “Jesus come and uproot our fear. Replace it with a revelation of your goodness. Overwhelm our fear with your love. Come into the gap in our souls between what we profess to believe and what we truly do. We want to know You. Deeply. Truly. In the way that lends itself to so easily trust You. Come for us again oh, Faithful Friend.” “Don’t be afraid. Just believe.” ~ Jesus (Mark 5:36) So yes, on a simpler, easier note, I am going to float the rapids in an inflatable kayak with my family. And I will pray for our safety and wisdom and God’s protection. And I will do it with JOY. I hope to have my eyes open and my heart aware and attentive - on the lookout for God’s gifts of beauty and love that he is always, always, always generously scattering around us to draw our hearts to His beckoning us to come close, to trust Him, and to love Him in response. I will do this and much harder soul-searching things because our God is good and I can trust Him. Because He is beckoning and I do not want to shrink back. Because my life is a gift and I want to live it. Because He loves me, I don’t have to be afraid. . Because God is my strength and in Him I am strong as well. I am His strong girl, His very own strong woman. And so are you. P.S. About the T-shirts. The verse on the “Strong Woman” and “Strong Girl” t-shirts is Eph 6:10! The “Strong Woman” T’s are available to order only until July 10th. If we don’t reach the minimum they won’t be made. As of 7/2/15, we’re close to the goal but not there yet. Tell your friends! The “Strong Girl” t-shirts are available to order until July 14th. They have passed their goal and definitely will be made. They will be shipped 5-10 days after the 14th. Bless you, friends. He is our trustworthy strength and in Him, we are strong as well. http://teespring.com/strong-2015
Stasi Eldredge
Strong Girl...Continued!
Yes, it’s a theme. It’s going to remain a theme for a while because I want to press into it almost as much as I want to press into the heart of God. (But nothing can come close to that!) This summer, I feel like I am just beginning to scratch the surface of God’s endless, boundless, fathomless, measureless, expansive, overwhelming, we’re-swimming-in-it LOVE. That is who He is. Love. And the fruit of dwelling in His love is pure joy and thankfulness and awe. It’s in His love that we live. It’s because of that love that we offer. It’s from that love that we find our strength. And we want to find our strength. Jesus did. And the child grew and became strong; he was filled with wisdom, and the grace of God was on him. Luke 2:40 And Jesus grew in wisdom and stature, and in favor with God and man. Luke 2:52 We are meant to grow in wisdom and stature as well; to grow in spiritual strength; to grow in our ability to take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ; to grow in our knowledge of Him and His Word. To grow up up up up up. To become stronger and stronger and stronger. Being strong is more important than being thin or popular or basically anything else we’ve thought was important. We are loved. Already. Done and done. Can’t get any more of it. Can’t lose it. But we can become stronger…and we are meant to. Jesus grew in wisdom and strength and it was counted to Him an honor. It brought His Dad glory and pleasure. We get to do that too! So I’m making T-shirts! Nice seg-way, huh. I’m using Teespring and you can have one too! They’re for women, (sorry fellas) and they say either “Strong Girl” or “Strong Woman”. (Strong Woman is coming soon…my son is the graphic designer and he’s away for a bit now). Anyway, I’m getting both. They’re for wearing when you hike or work out or dance around the kitchen or feel like you are slogging through your day. They’re to help you REMEMBER both who you are and who you are becoming. (Sadly, they only go up to size 2X.) You are STRONG! I’m going to wear mine when I doggedly climb the incline in early September. I’ll let you know that date in case any of you are in the neighborhood and are training for it too and want to do it with me. We can all wear our T-shirts together! A group of Strong Girls cheering for each other in the love of God! Oh, and P.S. You can order these UNTIL JULY 14, 2015! Also, This is not to make money. Any profits are going to be donated to Wild at Heart’s fund for scholarships for women growing in strength to attend the Captivating retreats. God bless your day, your week, and your summer. You are loved loved loved loved loved. And in His love, you are STRONG! Here’s the link for the T-shirts! This one is bright pink with white writing: http://teespring.com/strong-girl This one is white with black writing: http://teespring.com/new-strong-girl
Stasi Eldredge
Strong Girl. Strong Woman.
When I go hiking with my family I always bring up the rear. This began when they were little tikes in an attempt to keep them from wandering off the path or killing each other. John was the engine, leading the way through bush and brush and I was the caboose making sure no one was lost along the way. It worked. Ok, it almost worked. No one was lost but certainly there were falls and scrapes and sticks and stones that cut and bruised and yes, there was that one time when somebody kicked a log only to discover the wasp nest underneath. Hey, we survived. Truth is, I kind of liked pulling up the rear. I could see what was happening and better, I didn’t slow anyone down by my snail like pace. I’ve never been as fit as my mountain climbing, black belt earning, adventuring husband. But that’s been okay. Mostly. As soon as my sons could run, they could out run me. And that’s been okay, too. Pretty much. They are strong men. What hasn’t felt so great is the praise I’ve gotten for making it to the top of the same hill everyone else has gotten to twenty minutes before me. “Way to go, Mom!” “Well done, Stasi!” Sheesh. I’m looking forward to the day when my barely keeping up with the pack is not cause de celeb. (And yes, they are so kind and encouraging and I love them for it. But you get my point, right?) Goals change as we get older and that’s a good thing. We mature. We wake up to the world around us. Some dreams get set aside out of a loss of heart but some get set aside because we got our heart back! We learn what truly matters. Regarding our beauty, hopefully we mature to understand that everything said about inner beauty being more important than outer beauty is ALL TRUE! It’s not the form of a woman’s body that’s of the utmost importance; it’s the form of her soul. When I talk with younger women there is a burning desire that rises in my heart for them. It is the same one that I have for you, whatever your age may be, and for myself. I want them to be strong. Strong in faith. Strong in spirit. Strong in their souls. Strong as their bodies will allow. I want them to pursue strength more diligently than flawless skin or a perfect figure or the lovely hair de jour. I want them seek it more passionately than straight A’s or being popular or chosen by others. I want them to choose themselves with strength of heart because they already have been chosen! You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last. (John 15:16) And that’s why my goal these days is no longer a number but increasing strength. Strength will serve our girls and us well. It will help us all to stand upright and not fall down when pushed against by the world’s current. It will give us the courage to pursue God and serve Him wholeheartedly when those around us are chasing whatever the world says is currently “hip”. Strength will help us let the world’s vain promises slip through our fingers while by God’s grace we cling tenaciously to His. Strength. That’s what grace means by the way. It doesn’t mean forgiveness. It means God’s supernatural strength through which we live a life that pleases Him, brings us and others joy and yes, bears much lasting fruit! Last September I received an urgent request for prayer from the sister of a man who is a missionary in what is now ISIS controlled territory. Children were being given a choice to renounce Jesus or be killed while kneeling in front of their parents. At the time of his call, every single child had refused to renounce Jesus. His prayer request was that he too would have their same courage when they came for him. “They overcome him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony; and they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death.” (Revelation 12:11) For the Christian, death does not have the final say. Jesus has overcome death. It has lost its sting. Death is now the forerunner to Heaven. These children knew that and knelt to it, committing their spirits to God. I am in awe of them. I want to be like them. This is the kind of strength I am talking about and it doesn’t roll in on a tray. It is cultivated day by day by a deep and steadfast pursuit of and belief in the King of Kings. “The LORD, the LORD, is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation.” Isaiah 12:2 We need to pursue strength with our spirits, our souls and our bodies! Pursue the heart of our Father with our own. I am chasing after Him. I need God desperately. Additionally, I’m pushing myself physically this summer because it is all intertwined. We are body, soul and spirit. I’m climbing hills. I’m working out. I’m cleaning up my food act. (Well, I am at least, once again, trying to.) And I’m doing none of it in an effort to become more valuable as a daughter of God or more worthy of his affection. That is not even possible because He has declared that I already am. So are you. For me, being weak in some areas has meant that I am more vulnerable to shame and when I’m vulnerable to shame, I can too easily succumb to the accusations of the evil one. I can fall down inside. And stay down. And honestly, God is using that too teaching me about the boundless, endless, fathomless, unconditional love of the Father. He is using my weakness to draw me to Him. Because of Him, today, I’m standing up and saying “No” again to the accusation of the enemy and asking for God’s strength to believe that there is nothing I could possibly do to earn more of his love. I have it. I can rest in it. It is because I am so loved that I am choosing to press on where he would have me go and grow. Or shrink. Or not. Or whatever. I just want HIM. And to be strong in him. Don’t you? By the end of the summer, I have a personal goal to be strong enough to climb the famous Incline in Colorado Springs no matter how long it takes me. My family wants to do it with me. When we do, I will most likely be the last in our line of hikers but that’s okay. I like the view. Something in my maternal heart rests when I see everyone safe ahead of me. And as I walk up, up, up this summer, I will be praying. With strength. For increasing strength. Join me! #stronggirl.strongwoman Finally, be strong in the Lord and the strength of His might. (Ephesians 6:10) (Also, here’s my theme song for the summer. I am praying it, proclaiming it, dancing to it, driving to it, cleaning toilets to it. You get the idea. Press play and Repeat 1. Soul on Fire – Third Day www.youtube.com/watch?v=i7lv9oMjv_0) Want information on the Colorado Incline? You’ll find it here! www.manitouincline.com
Stasi Eldredge
The Man on the Train
I saw your wife this morning grab for the pole as the train at Denver International Airport lurched into movement. She bumped you. You were irritated. “I need to hold on,” I heard her explain apologetically. Out of the corner of my eye I saw movement. Did you really just flick the fat under her arm with contempt so that it swayed? No. You did not. You couldn’t have. In this public space no one would humiliate his or her spouse. My breath caught in my throat. I did not see that. I did see you move to the side of the car and watched as she moved to stand beside you. I saw the hardness in your eyes. Did you see the hurt in hers? I did. Then I knew it was true. You had just publicly shamed your wife. My eyes sought hers in my desire to offer her both mercy and the solidarity of sisterly camaraderie. We are both women. We both belong to the same jiggly arm club. Her eyes did not meet mine. I could see that you, Man on the Train, are in shape. You were wearing clothes to highlight the fact. I could see that your wife is not. She was wearing clothes to hide the fact. Did you think that by publicly humiliating her you would motivate her to join you at the gym? Because I can tell you, that is never going to work. Can you say, “Backfire”? You will never shame your wife into becoming a woman whose arms don’t wiggle. You will never motivate her to change along the ways you might desire by mocking her, by not treating her with the dignity she, as a human being, deserves. But I want to thank you, Mr. Train Man, because I was tired this morning. I was complacent and weary and your act of cruelty (and that’s what it was) shocked me out of it. You awakened my passion and my zeal for the world to be right – for people to behave – for human beings to treat one another with the respect they deserve. Maybe you don’t think it was such a big deal. After all, you didn’t shoot her. You didn’t punch her in the face. No, but you punched her in the heart and by the look on her face it was clear that it was a well-worn path of pain. It was a Big Deal. It often feels like the world is going to hell in a hand basket. I’m horrified by the multitude of atrocities being inflicted by human beings against one another in our nation and around the world. I’m stunned by the wickedness. And so I’m sad I didn’t gasp on that train this morning and in some small way let you know how out of line your actions were because the horror starts here. People, it starts here. Backhanded blows of bullying and contempt may seem small but in other corners of life explode into racism, sex trafficking, child slavery and untold oppression against the weak, the disenfranchised, the different. They are actions that are cut from the same contemptuous cloth. Hatred. Sin. Evil. Forgive me, if I am ranting now but I am indignant. I am raging against the minor and major assaults taken upon a person’s dignity that cause layer upon layer of harm. I’m old enough to have witnessed plenty of them, endured my share and doled out too many of my own. But I do not want to remain complacent and weary, overwhelmed by the ugliness that too often takes center stage on our newsreels and in our neighborhoods and numbs our souls. I want to change the world. There, I said it. I want to change the world and I want the world to change. And it starts with me. It begins with you, too. It starts here in what feels like an upside down Kingdom way. It starts with love. It begins with Jesus. That’s where the power to change the world comes from. I want Jesus to live his life through me. And so, maybe it’s a good thing I didn’t gasp this morning or say out loud, “No, you didn’t!” because rather than validating your wife, Mr., I might simply have joined the parade of human indignities by shaming you. Even if maybe, I think you deserve some shaming. OK, I confess I don’t know all that you need but I do know this. You need a Savior. Your wife needs a Savior. I need a Savior. We have One waiting. And he understands contempt and callous disregard. He understands bullying and people not being treated with the dignity they ought. He is well acquainted with suffering and shame and punches and wounds to the body and to the heart. Come to him. I’m running to him again. Begging him to COME! To intervene. To help us all move in small and large ways to make the world a kinder, safer, better place for gym rats and jiggly arms. For the abused and the abuser. For the callous and the cowardly. For the beaten down, the beaten up and the broken hearted. That is, to come for me. To come for you. To come for us all. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the presence of a woman who is in an abusive relationship. Longer since I’ve witnessed it. Now, I wonder how I missed reading the signs immediately. Your stance, Mr. Man on the Train, was angry. You were conveying utter control. I saw it in your ramrod posture, in your perfectly trimmed beard, in your neatly pressed clothes, in your cowed wife. She was not in control. Her clothes were rumpled, her hair unkempt, pulled back into a hasty ponytail. Her eyes did not register dismay or shock but merely a deserved resignation. I’m so sorry. The statistics are that 25% of women in the U.S. are in abusive relationships – physical, sexual and emotional. One in four. Reader, if you’re not surprised, it’s possible that either you are in one or have been raised in one. Or perhaps, like me, you too have grown numb in places you don’t want to be. Because you should be shocked. Dismayed. Gnashing your teeth. This is not how it is supposed to be. Before John, I was in a relationship for three years that became abusive. I felt trapped. Hopeless. Emotionally beaten down. I had no choice but to stay as my sense of self and self worth had vaporized. And I am a strong woman. But if you met the woman I was then, you would not recognize me. The utter disdain I felt for myself bled into how I treated others including the man I was in a relationship with. It was ugly. And still, in the quiet echoes of my soul, God was calling me. He was insistent and strong. I would have died had I not heeded his call. I gave up all friendships, all relationships when I did. Jesus saved my life. He is saving me still. We wonder why women stay in abusive relationships. I have tasted why they stay. Fear. Self hatred. A spirit so beaten down that leaving is not an option. For too many, they believe there is no choice to be made. BUT GOD. Reader, what is your “But God…” sentence? Do you have one? But God intervened. But God changed my heart. But God gave me the courage. But God pursued. But God turned things around. But God brought my child home. But God provided. But God protected us. But God forgave me. But God won. Because God is mightier. Stronger. Better. God’s love is overwhelmingly powerful. He is good. He gives us the free will to choose him and when we don’t he continually presents himself as the better way. He IS the Way. The Truth. The Life. I choose you today, Jesus. I pray for that Man on the Train to choose you. I pray for his wife to choose you. I pray God for the oppressed and broken hearted that by your fiery love – you break through, break in, break free and do what you love to do. In Jesus’ Mighty Name. It looks bleak sometimes friends. But God. “He went to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, and on the Sabbath day he went into the synagogue, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was handed to him. Unrolling it, he found the place where it is written: “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”[ Then he rolled up the scroll, gave it back to the attendant and sat down. The eyes of everyone in the synagogue were fastened on him. He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” Luke 4:16 - 21
Stasi Eldredge
Beautiful
In honor of my mother. She left this earth fourteen years ago but she never left my heart. Residing in Heaven, her fragrance and her undeniable beauty…remain. I love you, Mom. Thank you for loving me. At six years old, my youngest son was free as only a youngest son can be. Luke was exuberant, joyous, and expectant only of good. Each day, when kindergarten was over, the door would open and out would fly the children. Standing on the sidewalk, I watched as Luke exploded out the room and his eyes scanned the adults. When he saw me, his face would light up and his legs would fly. He would run down the sidewalk past all the other children and leap into my arms. It was the best part of my day and some of the most cherished memories of my life. In those moments with Luke, I felt like the most beautiful woman in the world and it had nothing, absolutely nothing, to do with my appearance. Not that anything was wrong with my appearance, mind you. That was during the decade plus or minus a year or two where most days (okay, every day) I would be wearing my really cool overall-looking jeans jumper. All I needed to do was wear a different shirt and “Voila! A new outfit!” I was not then, nor am I now, very fashion conscious. I go for comfort and ease. And washable. When my children were young I had to wear clothes that could take a stain or two. Even my glasses were heavy-duty little boy shatterproof. But my sons thought I was beautiful. They did then and they do now. Because they look at me through the eyes of the heart. And yes, yes, our appearance does matter. Did then. Does now. Taking the time to care for ourselves communicates to the universe that we are worth caring for. Brushing my hair (or my teeth if I hadn’t yet) before my husband got home from work in those years surrounded by young super-heroes communicated to him that I thought he was worth caring for. It’s normal and good that a woman, whatever her season in life, wants to feel lovely. And yet. And yet. Our outward appearance merely reflects an inward reality, and the inward reality trumps the outward one every single time. I have said the following hundreds of times and seen it demonstrated thousands, “A woman is at her most beautiful when she knows she’s loved.” It’s simply true. She will wilt like a flower without water when she believes she’s not loved. Not wanted. Not delighted in. Let the truth that she is deeply and profoundly loved RIGHT NOW marinate deeply into her heart and a woman will begin to bloom like a tulip after the frost. We are made to be loved. We are made to love. It is the greatest commandment to Love God and to Love others. Of course we are meant to be loved ourselves! In this life there are many gifts. In Christ there are even more. But as we learn in 1 Corinthians, Chapter 13, no gift is worth its wrapping paper if it is not rooted and grounded in love. It is love that matters most and it is by and through love that we become beautiful. Love conquers all. Love is stronger than death. God has proven his love for us in that while we were still sinners Christ died for us. God is Love! Love sees better than any eye or camera or mirror and God sees us with love every moment of our lives. And therein lies our hope. Because God loves us we can love others as well. We can choose to love when people see it and when they don’t. Others may never see our choices, but rest assured, dear one, God does. He sees every sacrificial choice. He sees every moment that our heart glances his way in battered hope. And with every breath with which we love, we are being inwardly transformed into a woman of such beauty that it takes our God’s breath away. He is exploding out of eternity and scanning not just the sidewalk, but the whole of the world, looking for hearts that are completely his; for hearts that will leap into his arms with exuberance and joy, expectant only of good. ~A version of this blog was originally posted on ALLMOMDOES.COM
Stasi Eldredge
The Thief of Joy
On sunny days, when my three sons were young, we would walk to the park near our home to swing and climb and play. A one car family, our outings were a respite of joy! We were blessed to have a car that ran but, well, it wasn’t a very nice looking car. It was an older, dinged up, four-door sedan and I confess, I really wanted a mini-van. (Yes, I did. Badly.) I remember one day at the park watching as a new, shiny green mini-van pulled up to the park and I wondered, ‘What would my life be like if I drove a car like THAT?” I figured that if I drove that car, everything would be much, much better! If I had that car, my house would be neat and tidy. My furniture would match. My laundry would be put away. I would be a woman who planned meals out two weeks in advance. If I drove a car like that then our bills would be organized, our checkbook balanced and our spice rack alphabetized. I would never feel sorrow well up in my heart in the dead of night. I’d have the Bible memorized! There would be world peace! No one would go hungry! Oh wait, I was getting carried away. This was a car mind you. Then the lovely, fit woman got out of the pretty mini-van with her healthy, happy children wearing clean and matching clothes and confirmed my every suspicion. Green mini-van = a good life. Further, being lovely and fit, having children who appeared happy and healthy and wore clean and matching clothes = a good life. Which as you well know, translated very quickly in my heart to – “My life is a bad one. It is without deep value or worth.” Theodore Roosevelt said “Comparison is the thief of joy” and boy was he right. We tend to compare our worst to another person’s best and we come out poorly. We compare another person’s smile with our inward sadness and we hide in shame. We compare our body to another woman’s more fit one and our joy shrinks. We compare what we imagine another person’s life to be like (without really knowing their story) with our known reality and we grieve. We compare ourselves with others and our hope melts and our sense of value dissipates like the mist. Ever compare yourself? Ever thought that if you had someone else’s life, their car, their husband, their job, their body, their hair, their gifting, their “you name it”…then all would be, if not well, then at least much, much better! We’ve all done it. We’ve all had our joy stolen. Comparison is a problem. I know we can’t help but look. And looking isn’t necessarily bad. By watching other mothers, I have learned how to be a better mother. By watching other friends and leaders and teachers, I have learned how to be a better friend and a more smitten lover of God! We want to lead lives that cause others to yearn after Jesus. People are watching. We want what they see to spur them on to love. Let our viewing of others do the same. Not to buoy our sense of self worth via another person’s failure or suffering. Not to shame ourselves into trying to “do better” via another person’s success. Not to compare but to learn. And always with an eye on love and a heart geared toward gratefulness for the gift of our incomparable life. God caught my heart that day at the park and he continues to catch it. My messy life is a gift. He loves me now – not if and not when but now. He loves you, too. You are loved. Right now. Your life does matter! When God looks at you, he sees the one for whom he gave everything and won everything so that you could be with him forever. You are chosen. You are the apple of his eye. You are the joy that was set before Jesus. Ask God to help you to know that. Ask for his view on your life. Ask him to help you to see yourself as he does. Because when you do, nothing can compare to that!
Stasi Eldredge
He has a Name
I like movies and I’m a woman who, if given the option, reads the book first. I love to get lost in a good story. When I first read Unbroken a few years ago, I was completely captured. I was (as were millions of others) utterly moved by the story and the life of Louis Zamperini. Like many others, I really looked forward to the movie. And…it’s good. It tells a powerful story. For me, the scene with the most impact occurs after the movie ends. That’s when my tears came. And no, I won’t give it away. Except for this…if you know the whole story, you know the screenwriters and director missed the heart and the soul of the story—Jesus. He is central to Louis Zamperini’s story. But Jesus didn’t make the final cut. In movies, in stories, and even in conversations, he often doesn’t. Have you noticed how much easier it is to say “God” then it is to say “Jesus”? Saying you believe in God may feel daring but it’s actually rather safe. Movies like Unbroken can attribute things to “faith in God” or simply to “faith” or “God” and stay on inclusive, non-offensive ground. Say the name of God and heads nod. Say the name of Jesus and the earth trembles. There’s power in the Name of Jesus. There’s power. There’s healing. There’s redemption. There’s LIFE. For this reason also, God highly exalted Him, and bestowed on Him the name which is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee will bow, of those who are in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and that every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father. (Phil 2:9-11) By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong. It is Jesus' name and the faith that comes through him that has completely healed him, as you can all see. (Acts 3:16) But these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name. (John 20:31) God has a Name. It’s bold to use it. To pray in it. To speak of it. To proclaim it. A bold, dear, praying friend of mine sent me a holy email exchange today. She had been asked by a mutual acquaintance to contact a woman whom she did not know and offer her some kindness. The woman is dying. The following is their email exchange. Dear ***, I heard from D. about where you are on the journey of life. I just want to let you know that you are tucked in my heart and prayers. It is clear that you have journeyed well, and I pray that you know that. It is clear, too, that you have influenced many on the journey. May these days be layered in hope, the kind that is eternal. Blessings,~ Dear ~, thank you from the bottom of my heart for your words of encouragement. I am fortunate that I know and love my Savior, Jesus Christ and I will be with Him soon. I thank you for writing and supporting me at this time. It is a great way to lift up my spirit at this time. Thank you again, *** Oh ***, I am so grateful you know Jesus. As I pray for you I will imagine the wholeness and life you will experience as soon as our Jesus takes you by the hand and dances you into the Kingdom. I'll see you there! With prayers and anticipation of glory, ~ ~ Don't ever be ashamed to speak His Name, even if you don't know if a person is saved or not. I have learned that over the years that the Holy Spirit will go before you and will work in the person's heart if they aren't saved. He will even put the exact words they need on the paper through your fingers. Pretty amazing. I knew from your email that you were one of Jesus' followers. So, yes, we will meet again probably sooner than any of us think! And I miss being able to dance, so I am sure I will be dancing with legs and arms that work! Thank you for your prayers and sweet note, *** Speak his Name. My dear friend was gently corrected and wept. I too cried when I read the final email. The invitation is to Life in Jesus Christ. Our faith is in Him. Jesus Christ is LORD. Let the earth tremble. Let knees bow. Let hearts rejoice. Let him be exalted. Let his Name be lifted high. If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it. (John 14:14)
Stasi Eldredge