Articles & Posts
How Are You Interpreting Reality?
"Why, God?" The young man was lying on the bathroom floor, in a foreign country; he had passed out and was covered with yuck. He is a beautiful young man, a friend of my sons, a follower of Christ, bright, creative, gifted. He has also known more than his share of strange physical afflictions, and this one—passing out in a sketchy bathroom and hitting his head far too hard on the tile floor thousands of miles from home, on a trip that was supposed to be hopeful and adventurous and maybe even romantic—this brought the cry from his heart. The first thing he said when he came to was, "Why, God?!" The story broke my heart. This young man does not need one more reason to doubt God. And so the story also made me very, very angry. Not at God; not at the young man—at the view of the world he was handed. "Why, God?" reveals a lot. I think our friend assumes something like this: The world is a broken but still pretty decent place, and while awful things do happen, for the most part we're going to be okay because God can help us find a life worth living. If he cooperates. To give you a vivid contrast, Jesus says: "I am sending you out like sheep among wolves" (Matt. 10:16). He said this to his dearest friends. I'm sure the illustration was chosen to shake their assumptions, grip them to the core. But since most of us have never lived with sheep or seen a wolf operate in the wild, let me attempt a translation: I am sending you out like puppies on a freeway. Or better, like three-year-olds into a maximum security prison. Let it sink in. Jesus assumes a dangerous world. Not an unpredictable one, but clearly a world in which we find ourselves in a great battle with evil. Oh, yes, he assumes God is our ally, but not primarily to help us find a simple life. That's not what is going on here. My response to our young friend's fall was not "Why, God?" but rather, You bastard. Meaning, my fury at the evil one. It is not a story of abandonment, yet another reason for unbelief, but rather one more clear illustration that this is a world in a brutal war and we must live like it. Friends, what are the assumptions you are holding about the world, about life? What surprises you? Your convictions will shape your every interpretation of events, and if they are mistaken, they will break your heart and cause you to give up on God, the only person who can help you find your way through.
John Eldredge
Valentine's Day
For Men Only! Hey fellas! If you are anything like my husband, you don’t care much for Valentine’s Day. John does not like to be told that on February 14th, he is to be Mr. Romance, pull out all the stops, and sweep me off my feet in a new, creative, remembered-for-the-rest-of-my-life way. Okay. I admit. It’s a lot to ask of a guy. But that’s not what I want or your women are wanting. (Well, mostly.) I was just at the bakery ordering special cookies for Happy Heart Day, and the baker/owner guy said he didn’t pay much attention to the holiday. I pointed to the ring on his finger and said, “Ummmm, yah, well….”. He quickly told me that he had taken his wife out for a nice dinner the previous week. I told him I thought he still needed to get her a card. He confessed that he was planning to show up at her work that day with a single red rose. And a heart cookie. YES! I immediately pictured the scene in Shall We Dance? (ask your wife) when Richard Gere came up the elevator all dressed up holding a single red rose for his woman. (Whether your woman likes Richard Gere as a man or an actor or not, the guy can rock a tux. But I digress.) Your girlfriend or wife may say she doesn’t need anything but your love for Valentine’s Day, and it’s true. She doesn’t. But we women need to know our men value us and regardless of our state, find us beautiful! So ignore her and get her a card, please!!! And if you really want to win some points—a single red rose…a bouquet…a box of chocolates…anything! (No not anything. A vacuum cleaner would be a bad idea.) When I was a teenager and boyfriend-less, I still loved Valentine’s Day. I just have a thing for it. Always have. I was fifteen when my father came home from work and surprised me with a pink carnation corsage. Who wears corsages? No one I know! But I LOVED it. L.O.V.E.D. it. Dads out there…you are the first man in your daughter’s life. You are teaching her what it means to be cherished and valued. You are her first Valentine. Take note. I’m giving you some great advice here. Bring your daughter a flower, a something. Not only will she love it, your wife will too. Skydiving dressed as cupid is not necessary. Spelling our your love in tea lights on the football field not needed. But take advantage of all the cards out there for you these days—and tell those special to you— that they are special to you! FOR WOMEN ONLY! Have your men read this blog. Then, sweetheart, whether or not you have man in your life who loves you well, I want to remind you that you have a Man in your life who loves you well. These days there are hearts all over the place and signs in pink proclaiming, “Be Mine!” There is One who has said that to you already, who in fact calls you “Mine!” You have been chosen. You are being pursued. There is One who is fairer than any other son of man and you are the one who has captured his heart. Embrace the fact that you are LOVED! You are wanted, seen, and delighted in. You are romanced and fought for and have captured his heart for all time. You lucky girl, you. Just take a few moments and breathe in that Truth. You are Jesus’ Valentine. Forever surrounded by love. And from the place of resting in that reality—you are free to enjoy, to live and to offer others your beautiful heart. Happy Valentine’s Day, all! Love, Stasi
Stasi Eldredge
No Shame Zone
Happy New Year!!! It’s January again. The “Get in Shape, Lose the Christmas Cookies Effect” month. It’s actually the last day of January as I am writing this, so I’m a little late to get on board. But you know, better late than never! I’m deciding to begin this year a little differently, though. Yes, those pants that used to be loose are tight. Yes, the sleeves on the jean jacket are snug. Dang. But instead of going to shame, I’m going to blessing. See, shame is never a great motivator anyway, and it certainly isn’t an agent of change. Like a shot of caffeine in the morning, self-loathing may propel us onto the road of change, but we will find that hatred of self only leads us onto a never-ending cul-de-sac. Like being terrified by a number on the scale in the morning and vowing never to overeat again, a shot of shame may get me through to lunch...but never through to my freedom. Self-hatred, shame, and fear—though rampant in so many of our hidden worlds—are simply never going to be capable of creating or sustaining the growth we long for. Yet most of us try to use shame as our inner motivator. I know I have. God’s heart for us is a “No Shame” zone. I love that “there is therefore no condemnation for those who are Christ Jesus.” (Romans 8:1) That means none. Not even a little bit. Not even over the areas that I am failing. In the love of God, I can have mercy on my weak self because God does. His mercies are new every morning. (Lamentations 3:23 ) Yay! So, yes, there are many areas where I want to grow. And in this area of my shape and size, I would like to shrink but I am not going to berate myself. I’m choosing to thank God for my body and to bless it. Thank you, God, for the gift of this body! I am praying to see myself more completely, as God does. Not only the inner workings of my heart, but the outward expression of my soul as experienced in my body. Thank you, Jesus, for this amazing gift of having a body. I choose to take care of it, of me. To be kind in my words to myself. God’s not mean. I don’t want to be mean, either. Not even to myself. I want to agree with God that all he has made is good. He made me. He made you. There is goodness there. Besides, shaming myself hasn’t worked in the past. I am choosing today to lay down shame and pick up mercy. In this moment, I am not going to self-condemnation but to asking God to help me believe more deeply that I am loved. And then to live from the place of grace that enables me to choose life, to choose blessing, to choose love, and to choose HIM. Oh, may all of our new year’s be filled with knowing his love more deeply! It’s his love that changes everything. And always for the better.
Stasi Eldredge
How to Pray Life Against Death
Friends, a few days ago I posted a blog on the Newtown massacre. Crucial as that alert is, this is even more important than that one. I need to help you pray a shield of Life around your households. About a month ago I experienced a very strong spiritual attack. It was quite dark, and took serious prayer to break off. It was, in fact, a spirit of death. As I prayed against it I sensed that it was not something specifically against me, but rather, it was a death attack that had been released upon the earth. I soon discovered that at the same time I was battling, a number of our friends were slammed with something similar, though they might not have identified it with death. It came as a malaise, a crushing, physical affliction, various “fruits” but the same spirit. God began to reveal even more; I just found out this week that during this same time period my son was praying for students at his school battling with suicidal thoughts, or even attempted suicide. Then came the massacre at Newtown, CT. That same week there was a shooting in an Oregon mall. Our dentist was killed with his father in a small plane accident. At this same time the nephew of a dear friend overdosed. All within hours of each other. The stories go on. I hope this information begins to fill in a picture for you. Not fear, but awareness. As Paul said, “For we are not unaware of [Satan’s] schemes” (2 Cor. 2:11). I want to encourage and equip you to be praying Life over your households. Some sort of death assignment and/or spirit has been released, and we need to bring the power of the resurrection of Jesus Christ against it. We have a prayer here on our website we call the Life Prayer. It is the perfect tool for this moment. You can find it here. Please share this post, pass it on to your circles and email lists so that we can get folks protected, and get the saints united in praying Life. If you read my post on Newtown, this is Part II—this is how we unite to bring Life at this very moment. This is the far more important part. United with you for Life, John
John Eldredge
A Mother's Christmas Angst
In the light of recent tragedies, my desire to create a stunning, memorable and holy Christmas this year has paled. A little. Yet, if I'm honest, the desire does remain in tact just a breath beneath the surface. Last year, at the peak of my pre-Christmas angst, I journaled my internal tug of war. With hope—and as a gift to all out there like me who are feeling the pressure of longing to create a holy encounter for their loved ones this Christmas—I want to share my entry. Desperately I feel such a compulsion to strive, to reach for entrance into the place where memory meets longing meets wonder meets fulfillment. A way to touch transcendence and meaning and connection. If I bake enough cookies and the house is filled with decorations and lights and boughs of evergreen, will our world, our home, our family be secure in the love and light of God? Can I carol and wrap my way into the time of my childhood when I carried no responsibility for beauty or Santa or Jesus? Can I create an experience where I connect my past with my families present and the world will be lovely and safe and filled with a foundation of unshakable love? We dress up our homes and neighborhoods in lights and bows and nostalgia reaching for hope and a better world. How do I get there with my family? If we go to midnight mass? If we dress up for Christmas dinner? If we continue with our family traditions of waffles and berries and whipped cream for breakfast and an ornament in our stocking, will we know we are connected to our past and will therefore be connected in our future? That there is a future that is good. Will we then know that there is a coming where hope and longing and promise are fulfilled? And it's lovelier than twinkly Christmas lights. Where all is gained and nothing good is lost and Jesus is at once the Babe in the manger and the Warrior on his steed. The lion and the lamb will lay down together. And the fragrance of sugar cookies baking will carry only the scent of satisfaction instead of hunger. Where my mother is alive and my father is young and laughing. My husband's eyes are dancing and my sons know they are seen and loved. And all our hearts are embraced and known and know that all is better then well. That's the Christmas I want. The best moments of the past, the memory of what should have been married to the beauty and depth of what could be - become one. With perfectly wrapped packages under the tree and each one being opened bringing deeper delight. Endlessly. Endlessly. Endlessly." Dear ones, may your holidays indeed be holy days filled with both joy and the hope filled promise that every good thing you long for is coming. It is coming. We can't wrap our way into that truth but we can receive it. We can receive him—the Babe and the Warrior, the Lion and the Lamb. Jesus. Hallelujah and Amen. Happy receiving and Merry Christmas!
Stasi Eldredge
Why Newtown is More Important Than We Think
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold; Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world, The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere The ceremony of innocence is drowned; The best lack all conviction, while the worst Are full of passionate intensity. (Yeats, The Second Coming) Evil struck again. And while I would prefer a solemn silence—the only good thing Job’s counselors offered him—so many unhelpful things are being said and suggested around the Newtown massacre I found myself compelled to write. Because the question of evil may be the greatest question the world faces today. How do we deal with evil? How do we prevent such tragedy? It all depends on what you think is causing this. I hope you will forgive my honesty, but I do not understand the shock. The grief I understand. The speechlessness, the staggering, the profound sorrow, the overwhelming sense of violation—these I understand. We are reeling from yet another assault of darkness. But our shock reveals something else altogether, something even more dangerous than armed violence. I am describing a naiveté about the world that Christians, at least, should not be toying with. In his brilliant essay The Wind in the Trees, GK Chesterton explains our misunderstanding by means of a great storm he experienced: “I am sitting under tall trees, with a great wind boiling like surf about the tops of them, so that their living load of leaves rocks and roars....The wind tugs at the trees as if it might pluck them root and all out of the earth like tufts of grass. Or, to try yet another desperate figure of speech for this unspeakable energy, the trees are straining and tearing and lashing as if they were a tribe of dragons each tied by the tail. As I look at these top-heavy giants tortured by an invisible and violent witchcraft, a phrase comes back into my mind. I remember a little boy of my acquaintance who was once walking in Battersea Park under just such torn skies and tossing trees...he said at last to his mother, ‘Well, why don’t you take away the trees, and then it wouldn’t wind.’ Nothing could be more intelligent or natural than this mistake. Any one looking for the first time at the trees might fancy that they were indeed vast and titanic fans, which by their mere waving agitated the air around them for miles. Nothing, I say, could be more human and excusable than the belief that it is the trees which make the wind. Indeed, it is a belief so human and excusable that it is, as a matter of fact, the belief of about ninety-nine out of a hundred of the philosophers, reformers, sociologists, and politicians of the great age in which we live. My small friend was, in fact, very like the principal modern thinkers; only much nicer.” Chesterton was describing the naiveté that has since paralyzed the world, a naiveté revealed by our shock. What do you really believe about the cause of the "storm?" You would think that after a century which included the Holocaust, Stalin, the Khmer Rouge, and the rise of terrorism to name but a few, we would have been cured from our childish ideas about evil. You would think that after any one of the hundreds of atrocities of the past few years, we would have been cured. Rwanda, 9/11, human trafficking—what is it going to take? I was heartened at first by the early words of Connecticut Governor Dan Malloy when he said, “Evil visited this community today.” That is exactly right; that is precisely what happened. But the clarity—he may have only been using a metaphor—was quickly lost in the subsequent media barrage. Our leaders are reacting to the Newtown massacre by calling for gun control; how unspeakably foolish. Now, this is not an essay on gun control; I am speaking to our understanding of our situation and the forces we are dealing with. But the cries for gun control reveal the naiveté—they are crying for the trees to be cut down while they ignore the wind. It is this naiveté regarding evil that is the crisis of our age. And it is most dangerous. For the Christian knows certain things about the world, things we must never ever lose hold of. We know from whence evil comes; we know what to do about it. We know—or we are supposed to know—that we live in a world at war; we are living in the midst of a very real and extremely brutal battle with the kingdom of darkness. While most Christians are still playing at happy little life (and angry at God for “allowing” terrible things to happen), the Scriptures continually warn us of a great evil power, who rules the world, whom we must contend with. “For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). In other words, with the demonic. But, apparently T.S. Eliot was right: “Humankind cannot bear too much reality.” We seem utterly devoted to avoiding the question of evil, to misdiagnosing it, completely committed to a childish view of the world. And our foolishness is proving very costly. For as Chesterton went on to say, “The great human heresy is that the trees move the wind.” By this he means the heresy that it is economics, race, poverty, a political party or doctrine that are the real causes of evil in the world; in this case, that it is the lack of gun control that causes evil in the world. Is the evil therefore located in the gun? Far more people are killed by automobile accidents each year in the U.S.—is the evil located in those vehicles? How long will we continue to ignore the actual wind that tortures this world “by an invisible and violent witchcraft?” Chesterton concluded his essay with a warning: “When people begin to say that the material circumstances have alone created the moral circumstances, then they have prevented all possibility of serious change....And nothing will ever be reformed in this age or country unless we realize that the moral fact comes first.” Good and evil come first. We prevent all possibility of serious change when we hold childish views regarding evil, regarding the Great War in which we find ourselves. I suppose for the world the naiveté is understandable. For the Christian, it is inexcusable. We cannot toy with sociological, psychological or political explanations for the evil now ravaging the planet. Because we have answers. There are answers both to the evil in the world, and the evil in the human heart. God moved long ago to deal with both, and triumphantly. What greater hope could possibly be spoken? This is what the world longs to know—"Why doesn't God do something?" God has acted; he has intervened, at the cost of his own life. There are answers, there are solutions, there is a way out. But we will not seek them while we take a four-year-old view of the world; while we blame the the "trees" for the raging storm. How differently would the church pray if we really believed we are at war with the kingdom of darkness? How differently would we live and act in this world? That “difference,” my brothers and sisters, would make an enormous difference.
John Eldredge
Bowl of Chili
It’s Tuesday evening and I’m spent, dizzy from a full day chasing my tail, accomplishing nothing. Yep, I’m living life large on 3 cylinders futzing around the house; reorganizing my junk drawer; opening bills and clipping them smartly to their envelopes while stacking them alphabetically; updating my shopping list to include AAA batteries; straightening up the bathroom sink…updating my Facebook status and feeding the dog. All of this activity staving off the accusation that I’m a lazy slouch, none of this activity touching the ache of my soul to offer my gloriously unique gifting for the furtherance of the Kingdom today. These stop-and-go, haphazard, fretfully distracted days filled with small things that sap energy, soul and spirit are all too frequent! Mercifully Lori calls me to dinner and I sit down to a hefty bowl of comfort food, i.e. chili topped with jack cheese, red onion, cilantro and sour cream. I’m taking my first bite as she updates me on my daughter’s weekend relational conflict with a friend saying, “You ought to read the follow-up letter she wrote to Audrey” (her out-of-sorts friend). So, I pull up my email and begin to read her letter. I didn’t/couldn’t take another bite of chili for 30 minutes. The tears were familiar. Pouring down a historic route over my cheeks and off my chin. The tears weren’t light, they came up from somewhere deep, similar to those I shed welcoming my daughters into this world, akin to those saying “goodbye” when they each left for school in Europe or those as we danced, held their newborn child for the first time. They were very familiar… and very new. And, God shows up. Surprised He enters the scene touching, speaking, moving, stirring up emotions, memories, longings and hopes… bringing comfort, healing… hope. I was overwhelmed the waterworks of a happy man… of a blessed man, a man who could have died and gone to heaven that very moment. Meagan’s letter in word, spirit, texture and affect blew me away. Her handling of, and speaking to her friend’s heart and soul was kind, forgiving, full of understanding, courageous, strong, inviting and authentic. Her worldview, love of God, maturity and pursuit of her friend jumped out to me. She is the person I hope to be someday. Is there a day a father doesn’t bear some weight, a burden we’ve grown so accustomed to we hardly notice it… a question about our children’s journey and who they’re becoming and how they’ll “turn out”? It lies just beneath the waterline of consciousness surfacing from time to time. Added to this acclimatized strain we carry is another question inseparable from the former… it’s a notch deeper perhaps and it’s all about us. “How am I doing as a father? Am I screwing her up… do I have what it takes… is all this effort ‘working’… will she be everything I have hoped and prayed… is God at work?” We are often and deeply afraid of what we’ve done, are doing and will do as a parent… and the consequences! She’s too young to get her ears pierced… right? Is Barbie a corrupting model of femininity/beauty? What do I do about the influence her “friends” are having on her? Why am I so easily infuriated? What about the music she loves, movies she watches, clothes she wears… egads! Did the time I let her cry in her crib when everything in me said to go in and comfort her wound her… or was it that fit of anger when she came home late… yikes! How about the church youth group… it’s dead! Will she know and love God intimately or be merely compliantly religious. I think I blew it with the Beverly Hills 9012487 parties… and the NKOTB concert. Was my discipline too strict or lenient? I should have emphasized school more… the guy she’s dating is a flake!#$@? Oh God… dear God come for her… come for me! I have worried and wondered… paced the floor, pounded the ground, cried out to God, beat myself up as as a father and doubted God’s clear-strong-whispered words over the years… “Craig, your daughters… they’re mine, I’ve got them, we’re tight, we’re good. Don’t worry. Don’t be afraid, don’t panic… trust me… love Me, love them… live trusting.” And until this letter I doubted God and his words to me. No longer. Seeing my daughter through her letter made it all very clear. My every concern about how she might “turn out” was dismissed, every worry stilled, the questions settled. God spoke into my heart, “Craig, you are a good father… look at your girls”. I was happily sobered and embarrassed that I had ever doubted him and his work in her and through me. I could not nor is it possible to be prouder of my girls at this stage of their lives. They quite simply are beautiful in every way. Every way! As for me as a dad… God could not, nor is it possible for him to be prouder of me. I’m his, he’s mine, we’re tight, and we’re good. What a bowl of chili! – Craig McConnell (from the archives)
CM
Craig McConnell
Jesus and Assumptions
We received a letter the other day asking a really good question about Jesus and the way he looked at life. From time to time I talk about the “assumptions” we hold about life, and God, and wonder if ours are the same assumptions Jesus was operating by. Sadly, the word created problems. In her letter, a woman told us that, “This statement (‘Jesus' assumptions’) totally tripped up a Christian woman who was going to do the Walking with God study with me. She said that because Jesus is God he wouldn't hold any assumptions. I don't know how to respond to her.” Here is my response: Well, with regard to her predicament, it really is probably solved by word choices. Your friend doesn’t like "assumptions." I'll bet that's because the word sounds to her like "uncertainties" or "guesses at life's big questions." By assumptions I don't mean guesses. I mean "convictions we hold," or, "our core convictions about life" or, "the core truths we operate by." In this regard, of course Jesus had convictions. His were the deepest of all. I wonder if your friend simply substituted the word "convictions" or, "core truths" for assumptions if the issue would be resolved. Because, I'm betting that by saying Jesus held assumptions, she heard me saying Jesus wasn't sure about things, was just taking his best guess at the truth. I do not believe that. Jesus called himself the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6). He calls the Holy Spirit the Spirit of truth (John 14:17). He told us that only when we really know and hold to the truth would we be his disciples, and be set free (John 8:32). Jesus' life is deeply anchored in the truth. I think it would help her to know that. Yes, Jesus holds assumptions. By that I mean Jesus assumes that truth exists, truth is knowable, and truth is essential. He’s not taking guesses at things.
John Eldredge
A Taste
To paraphrase Philip Yancey, “Faith believes ahead of time what can only be understood by looking back.” I was six months pregnant with our first child when my husband was transferred to a new job. Moving from our home in California to a new one on the East coast was a terrifying proposition to me. Mercifully, we didn’t have to move until our baby boy was three months old, allowing me to give birth and begin the adjustment to motherhood surrounded by my family and friends. But the move was hard. It turned out that the move back less than two years later was even more difficult. Researching the area, John learned of a church that mutual acquaintances of ours had planted in Laurel, Maryland. It had many young mothers in it like me, was "seeker friendly," and welcomed our involvement. So we moved there. And we dove in. (Choosing where to live based on the Christian community available is brilliant.) The day we arrived with the moving truck, so did the pastor, asking if we needed help unpacking. When it came time to move back to California, I was eight months pregnant with our second child, and three women appeared on my doorstep with buckets and cleaning materials in hand to spare me the work. In between was the richest taste of Christian community I have ever had. One of my dear friends drove us to the airport and I clung to her, sobbing, as we said our painful goodbyes. Leaving wasn’t just difficult. It was excruciating. That was twenty-two years ago. The church just finished celebrating its twenty-fifth anniversary and to end the yearlong celebration, John and I flew back to participate. I was honored to speak at a women’s event Saturday night, John spoke at the two Sunday morning services and God, well, God blindsided me. Overwhelmed during the worship Sunday, I had to sit down with my face in my hands and weep. I wept for remembering. I wept for the unhealed sorrow I didn’t know was there. I wept for the taste of Heaven that going back and being with these dear ones offered me. I know Heaven is real. I believe that in our lives with Christ, nothing good is truly lost. I believe we get back every treasured time and moment and relationship that has been taken from us. But I didn’t know I was going to experience that on this trip. It turned out to be an appetizer to the Banquet, a slipping into the joy of eternity, a holy reunion. Leading worship were two dear ones, a husband and wife, who led worship twenty-two years ago. There he was playing the guitar with passion and skill, and she was singing with beauty and depth. The pastor and his wife were leading, loving, and speaking with the same gentle and winsome strength that they used to–though all of their hearts have been honed and crafted by suffering. Two rows behind me was a couple we often had picnics with and when the husband saw me, this composed, reserved man climbed over the chairs to hug me. You bet I wept. A lot of life has happened since we were last with this company of believers. We have all endured much. Hardship. Illness. Loss. Pain. Betrayals. Death. And we all have also known goodness. Beauty. Faith. Surrender. Glory. Joy. Hope. Love. Life. The presence of God. Jesus reigned then and he reigns now. Acknowledging all of the life and goodness that has come from our difficult choice to leave those many years ago, a friend said, “I hated that you had to leave. And I’m so glad you did.” Yes. Me, too. Looking back, and looking forward, I can truly say, “Thank you, Jesus. You are the Giver of all good gifts even when all is mystery and I simply don’t understand. Thank you. Thank you for everything.”
Stasi Eldredge
Pearl
My mother told me that “Good things come to those who wait” and usually when the thought of waiting felt too much to bear. Cookies to come out of the oven. Christmas morning to arrive. A graduation. A boyfriend. A dream. Waiting is hard. A recent study suggests that we human beings are pretty good at waiting especially when we know that what we are waiting for is going to be awesome. The better the prize, the longer we will wait. Heaven is going to awesome! Jesus’ return will be glorious beyond description! And that is going to happen. Okay then. I’ll wait. Not that I have much choice in the matter, but knowing that the reality of the Kingdom of God coming fully and Jesus reigning completely here is only a matter of time is helpful. Boy is it helpful. Oh happy day when there will be no more tears, all evil vanquished forever and all our dreams come true! I can feel my heart rise again merely at the thought of it. Oh to see Jesus face to face!!!! What are you waiting for these days? Looking forward to? I’m really looking forward to our sons coming home for Thanksgiving. Which is, apparently, next week. (How did that happen?) We’ll be picking up two of them from the airport next Wednesday morning and it will feel like I’m eight years old again and it’s Christmas morning. I want to say, “I can’t wait!”, but I will have to. Good things are worth waiting for. I read today that it takes one to five years for a freshwater pearl to be formed. A saltwater pearl takes a bit longer, five to twenty years. A thing of beauty, they can’t be rushed. They’re worth the wait. It took ten years for our ministry to come out with the Captivating Pearl Collection. They’re CDs from the live women’s events we hold in Colorado. Each CD is a session that was selected as the “best of” after ten years of beautiful, Holy Spirit-filled retreats. I think they’re worth the wait. Our hope is that they are conduits of Christ’s love and healing…that listening to them will help us to continue on our faith journey, to remember who Jesus really is and who we are to him. Priceless treasure is being formed in our hearts while we wait for him…more costly than gold, more lovely than pearls. I’m waiting with you. It will be worth it. And Happy Thanksgiving!!!
Stasi Eldredge
An anchor for your soul
So, I've been captured by two verses recently. The first goes like this: "We have this hope as an anchor of the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf" (Hebrews 6:19-20). My first reaction was, No we don't; I hardly know anyone who actually has this anchor for the soul. If there is anything that characterizes the souls of this postmodern age, it is adrift. Not anchored. Anchorless. But God promises we CAN have this anchor, this hope, if we choose so. What is the hope? The Kingdom of Jesus; the sure and certain reality of the Kingdom of God, and the coming of that Kingdom. If you put your hopes in that, it will anchor your soul. The second verse comes a bit later in Hebrews, but returns to the same theme: "Since we are receiving a Kingdom that cannot be shaken..." (12:28) This felt particularly appropriate today. Our country (the U.S.) is obviously as deeply divided as we were in the Civil War (probably never, in fact, recovered spiritually from it). But friends, a reminder—we are citizens of a Kingdom that is as beautiful and true and glorious and loving as this world is not; we are receiving a Kingdom that cannot be shaken. If we set our hearts there, we find that we, too, cannot be shaken. Thought this might be helpful in the midst of the maelstrom.
John Eldredge
Table for Two
This is headed in a good direction. Just wanted you to know that. We've always made family dinners a priority (thank you, Stasi). They really are the centerpiece of a family life, the places where stories get told and life gets processed and a lot of informal teaching gets passed along. Laughter, banter, pass the salt and you gotta hear what happened today. When our oldest son, Sam, left for college, there came that night where we no longer set a fifth place. Four placemats, and we all had to face the loss. Then Blaine left, and it was three placemats. There have been a lot of quiet dinners these past three years; Blaine brought a lot of life to that table, and it's hard to be the one son left with mom and dad. After we took Luke to college Labor Day weekend, Stasi and I came back and basically avoided dinner for two weeks. There was company, and some travel, and late days at work...and we were avoiding the inevitable. Neither of us wanted to sit down at a table for two. What I wanted to share in all this is something beyond our sadness. I've been so keenly aware how easy it is when you are hurting to make agreements. This is the time you've really got to watch over your heart (Prov. 4:23). Too easy to go from the immediate pain, which is real, to something sweeping like, "Life is just loss." Or, "I hate change." Or, "What is there to look forward to now?" Pain can so quickly open the door to other things you don't want to let in—like despair, or hopelessness, or resignation. And what has been most noticeable is that we actually have a choice whether we will let Jesus comfort us. Really. Pain can feel so "true," so "real," that we actually push the comfort of God away because we feel we need to stay in the pain to honor it, or because it might be the most we've felt anything in a long time, or because those subtle agreements have begun to creep in and we give place to pain as what is most true about life. And I don't want to do that. You don't want to do that. No agreements. No pushing Jesus away. Whatever the loss may be.
John Eldredge
Freedom
My “Official Ballot” came in the mail yesterday. I was so happy to get it. Come November 6th, I won’t have to stand in line! Though, I will miss my “I voted” sticker, it’ll be good to do it in advance. One of my son’s “Official Ballot” came in the mail too. The thing is, I don’t know that he is going to vote for the same candidate that I am. In fact, I don’t think he is. So, I confess, a wicked thought went through my head. Rather than engaging with my son in meaningful and respectful discussion that may change one of our opinions, I could just not give it to him! OK, I didn’t entertain the thought for long. The Holy Spirit isn’t much for lying, cheating or stealing and honestly neither am I. I don’t want to keep my son from participating in his first presidential election and enjoying one of the fabulous freedoms we possess in the United States. We have so many freedoms we are privileged to enjoy as citizens here but this is truly one of the great ones! 30 years ago, John and I attended a wonderful Bible based church in Sierra Madre, California. A young man also attended there who had an amazing spirit and an even more amazing testimony. He hadn’t grown up with the freedoms I take for granted. He was from Uganda. He had been in prison there because he was a Christian. He had been brutally tortured and had the scars to show for it. His days were spent being beaten. During one of his trials there, he was chained to the ceiling - hung by his hands with his feet grazing the floor. His guard’s job was to whip him. Beatings lasted for hours. After a few days, this young man was aware of the guard cleaning up his “tools” preparing to leave…and he said to the guard, “Have a nice evening.” Seriously. He blessed him. Have a nice evening. Which of these men was free? Truly free? The guard was undone. He was angry. “How can you say that to me? How can you say that?” Our friend told him how. He told him about Jesus – about the price that Jesus paid to win his heart – about the freedom he knew in Christ. He told him about being LOVED and FORGIVEN and ACCEPTED and KNOWN perfectly. A few days later, that guard helped him to escape. But before he helped him leave the country, he first took him to his home to treat his wounds, feed him and have him share the Gospel with his family. Have a nice evening?!?!?! This young man was free. The guard became free and so did his family. In Christ, we too are free. We are no longer slaves. We have been freed. We are no longer in bondage to sin. We have been released. In Christ, we have the freedom to choose life, choose not to sin, choose good, choose to give our sons the mail in ballot thing. We are free to choose to believe God, to become who we were created to be, to not be afraid and to not be overwhelmed by anything or anyone. Yes there is sorrow in our lives. But we will not be overcome by sorrow. Christianity is not a promise of a life with no pain or even a short cut through it. It is a promise that pain, sorrow, sin – ours and others - will not swallow us, destroy us, overwhelm us, define us or have the final word. Jesus has won our victory. He is the Final Word. We are free. 2 Cor 3:17 Now the Lord is a Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is there is freedom. And we, who with unveiled faced all reflect the Lord’s glory, are being transformed into his likeness with ever increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit. We are being transformed. We are. God is doing it. In our transformation we are free from: Bondage Sin The fear of man Shame Regret Rage Disappointment Addiction Fear We are no longer captives to sin. We are no longer in bondage to the enemy, to the world, or to our own flesh. We have been released. We are not only free FROM – we are free TO. We are free to be transformed into the very image of Christ! We are free to bless in the face of cursing, to love in the face of hatred. We are free to become the fullest expression of our unique selves. We are free to offer to others the unique gifting that God planted in us when he first dreamed of us. We are free to: Be happy To be glorious To fail To succeed To love To live To forgive. Because of what Jesus has done, we are no longer bound by any chains. We have been ransomed, paid for, purchased, saved, and freed to be who we really are. How do we increasingly live in freedom? By increasingly coming to know and embrace the boundless love of God for us. We grow into our freedom as we are captured by his goodness, his faithfulness, his honor, his sacrifice, his compelling nature, his heart that yearns for us. We can embrace the freedom that Jesus won for us simply and only because we are so completely, loved…right now. The truth is, we are safe and secure in the love of God every moment of our lives. No matter what. The invitation of Jesus Christ is to come fully alive in his love - know him as he really is and offer both him and ourselves truly – freely to a hurting and thirsty world. I want to do to that, don’t you?
Stasi Eldredge
Love DJ
I'm preparing to speak to 400 women at our women’s Captivating Retreat this Saturday on "Loving A Man". I'm pretty excited about sharing my sagely heart, what an honor! (My next thought is, ?!%$@! What a weight… 350 husbands depending on me to step up and into the gap advocating for them!) It’s been a sweet time allowing the desires of my masculine heart regarding a woman’s love surface. Memories, moments, disappointments and the lingering joys of 38 years of my marriage to Lori rise. I’m in a good place, God is present, I’m smiling, reflecting and writing. Then I think, "Hey, what do some of the great love songs have to say about love from a man's perspective?" So... two hours have passed and I'm stuck in my big easy chair, alone, spinning Love Songs like a late Saturday night DJ, a little weepy and hoping I can make a shift to Outlaw Country real soon. - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
Brothel Doors
“Every time a man knocks on a brothel door, he is really knocking for God” - G.K. Chesterton I pick up the phone and as the unexplained sobs abate I hear the story of a man’s life, marriage and family being shattered by his secret, sexual, sin exploding to the surface. Too many times, too many very good men, blindsided women, and innocent familes butchered. In every case, it’s what Chesterton is hitting on, beneath all sexual sin is the quest for something totally non-sexual. Ultimately it’s a search for the exhilaration that we were designed for, crave deeply and only find in God. Beneath all sexual sin is the quest for something totally non-sexual. “We need an approach to struggles with lust, porn, and sexual addiction which honor the brokenness in our lives, yet point us toward wholeness in Christ. We need an approach which reminds us of our heart’s deepest desire–something more fulfilling than sexual gratification.” – Michael Cusick I, we couldn’t agree more with Michael on the approach to freedom from sexual sin that deals with the deeper questions and issues of a man’s heart and the gratification we’re most deeply pursuing. Another excerpt from Michael Cusick: “… A man’s sexual appetite is a barometer for what’s going on inside his heart. Your sex drive consists of more than testosterone and the buildup of seminal fluid pressing for biological release, more than being visually stimulated and feeling aroused. Sexual arousal is an accumulation of your experiences, deep needs, and unconscious beliefs. Your heart shares a deep connection to your body parts. The way you are sexually aroused reflects what’s happening deep in your soul, beyond your sexual organs. Indeed, sex is as much spiritual mystery as it is physical fact. The reality is that your heart needs something, and porn promises to meet that need." (“Surfing For God: Discovering the Divine Desire Beneath Sexual Struggle”, pg. 15-16) Michael, a good friend and Wild at Heart ally just released a book titled, “Surfing For God: Discovering the Divine Desire Beneath Sexual Struggle.” I just read it and want to recommend it to every man and the women in a man’s life. I couldn’t give it higher praise. “ ‘What makes pornography so addictive,’ wrote John Eldredge, ‘is that more than anything else in a man’s life, it makes him feel like a man without ever requiring a thing of him.’ The allure of porn is that— contrary to a woman in real life—it makes us feel like men, and it never rolls its eyes at us or rolls over in bed. Porn never reminds us of our failures, flaws, or shortcomings. It doesn’t evaluate our appearances or performances, our net worths or credentials. Porn doesn’t tell us to clip our toenails or put the toilet seat down. Porn doesn’t care if we are sullen, irritable, overweight, selfish—even undesirable. Porn’s only requirement of a man is a pulse—and maybe the click of a mouse. Struggles with porn confirm our suspicions that we do not have what it takes to be a man. Somewhere deep inside we believe that we lack the strength to relate to a real woman… Pornography knows men’s weakness. It speaks to that weakness, softly . . .. But for most men, it starts with the soft voice that speaks to our deepest fear: That we aren’t man enough.” So in the absence of felt strength, we turn to porn as if it were steroids for our soul. In our minds, porn makes us bigger, stronger, and more desirable. We get our fix and affirm our manhood. The seductive images reliably tell us that we are the man. But as we do with real steroids, we risk porn’s damaging side effects and possible public disgrace. Without this drug, we become just another guy and wonder if we make the cut. C. S. Lewis understood this when he wrote that every time a man masturbates, he chips away at his manhood. Porn gives us permission to avoid asking the hard questions about our masculine souls. Why do I feel weak in the presence of a particular woman? Why is so much at stake when I relate to her? Why do I feel I have so little to offer? But when we scrape together the courage to face these questions, we discover life-changing truths about ourselves that can set us free. Truths that will lead us to something better than porn." (“Surfing For God: Discovering the Divine Desire Beneath Sexual Struggle”, pg. 18,19) I’ve walked with men and their families back into freedom, hope, clarity, healing and redemption. It isn’t easy, but it is available. Michael’s book, “Surfing For God: Discovering the Divine Desire Beneath Sexual Struggle” will pave the way. Additionally, there are a limited number of free copies available at this link. http://Nelsonfree.com/SurfingForGod - Craig McConnell
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Craig McConnell
A New Path
I love my morning walks with our dog, Oban. It’s my time with God. My morning prayer. My realignment for a forgetful spirit. I go to the nearby Open Space and wander, sometimes hiking hard and fast, but more often, slowly, taking in the sights and smells of creation. The Waldo Canyon Fire took its toll on my city and my morning walks. The Open Space is closed and I don’t know when it will re-open. The mountains are a patchwork of black and green, the scorched against the untouched. It’s been three months since the fire and I’m ready for it to be all done, all green, all open. I have yet to find a new path to walk in the mornings though I’ve explored a few different ones. New paths are lovely. Discovering new ways, good. But there is a reason why paths become well trodden, well worn. There is a settled rhythm to the beautiful known. The last of my sons has moved out and on to college. My pantry is neat. My laundry is less. My grocery cart is light. And my heart is heavy. I am on a new and unknown path. The ways I have spent much of my days are not burned or scorched but are no longer mine. I am on unfamiliar terrain but I have to continue on it because the well worn path that I have known is closed to me. It will not re-open. Seasons change. Parks close. Friends move away. Children grow up. Life moves on. The old is gone, and ready or not, the new has come. For me, at my saddest, it can feel like my life is over. Well, a season of my life is over. But my life isn’t. No child of God’s life is ever over. (My deepest apologies to all my friends who have gone before me into this life change. I empathized with you. I ached for you. But I didn’t have a clue. I’m sorry.) All change feels like loss. Change is loss. Even fabulous change. But I do know that a season has to end in order for the new one to begin. In this change, I am holding on to my Anchor who is a light unto my path. Step by step, he will show me the way. He is the Way. Even when my heart is heavy. It will be good to discover the beauty that awaits…just around the bend.
Stasi Eldredge