Reflections from my soul to yours.
Discerning a Calling
Maybe you’re familiar with the concept that whatever breaks your heart could be the difficulty, situation, or topic where the world needs your voice and presence the most. It’s the idea that when you find yourself deeply grieved by a situation, and you hear yourself saying, “It shouldn’t be like this”, God might be calling you to change things.
I see this process at work in the life of the Old Testament prophet, Nehemiah.
Nehemiah was exiled a thousand miles from his Jewish homeland, serving a Persian king. If you’ve ever lived far from your native country, your hometown, or your family, you know that distance stirs up questions about the people and places you love. These questions range from curiosity to concern, random to persistent.
Question marks are heavy. Not knowing what’s going on, not having an answer, and not hearing a word, are burdens hard to bear. Whether questions linger about physical, spiritual, or emotional matters, they feel like carrying around a backpack of bricks or walking under storm clouds, thick with rain.
For Nehemiah, the only way news traveled was by foot - a reality we can barely imagine today - so when a band of brothers arrived in Susa from Jerusalem, he went straight to them for updates about escapees, survivors, and the capital city.
What they shared only weighed Nehemiah down further, as they unloaded on him all the trouble, shame, brokenness, and destruction in Jerusalem. But how Nehemiah responded to the news, can serve as a template for us; when our hearts cry out, “It shouldn't be like this”, Nehemiah shows us what to do about it:
He sat down
He wept
He mourned for days
He fasted
He prayed
If you’re bearing a burden of “it shouldn’t be like this,” follow Nehemiah’s five-fold response, found in chapter 1, and see how God might actually open doors to a calling on your life.
For more on fasting, check out this article.
Box-mix Brownies in 2025
I’m pretty confident in my box-mix brownie-making skills. If you drop by last minute, I’ll probably serve you brownies. If you invite me for dinner at your house, I’ll likely bring brownies for dessert. They’re my default dessert, and I’ve learned how to make them so they’re actually good:
An Aldi brownie box-mix needs ⅛ cup of cocoa added to it for darker, chocolatey perfection. No matter the brand, brownies are best with a generous layer of chocolate chips scattered on top before baking. It takes 28 minutes at 350 degrees for a toothpick - inserted 1” from the edge - to come out without a bit of batter on it. And always cut brownies with a plastic knife.
If I proudly informed you that all this experience with box mixes prompted me to send in an application to a competitive baking show, you might feel nervous for me and give me a hug and whisper, “No matter what happens, I’ll always be your friend.” Maybe you’d raise an eyebrow, pull me aside, and caution, “What got you here, won’t get you there.”
And you’d be right. As normal as they’ve become in my baking routine, box mixes couldn’t continue to line my pantry if I wanted to grow or excel in my baking skills to become an actual baker. I would need to stop purchasing those convenient boxes. They would have to go before I could grow.
During the weeks leading up to the turn of the New Year, I wasn’t thinking too much about my trusty box mixes, but I had this question for the Lord:
“If I want to be more like You in 2025, what is it that got me here that won’t get me there?”
What has become part of my life that might have been acceptable and possibly even helpful, but it doesn’t actually facilitate growth for what’s ahead? Yes, my relationship with God is good enough, but so are box mixes.
What needs to be cleared out of the pantry shelves of my life so that growth in 2025 is possible? We often add goals without subtracting something first, and that kind of constant addition only defeats growth. What rhythms, routines, and habits got me here, but they won’t get me there?
For 2025, one option I’ve removed from my shelf is Facebook. It’s not that I considered myself extremely distracted by it, but it’s what the Lord led me to do in answer to the question I asked Him. It might be for now, or it might be forever, but it’s not the answer He’ll give everyone; I love how individual and active His leading is!
What I’ve personally found over the past month without Facebook, is that I have a greater capacity for what’s in front of me - for the family, friends, neighbors, joys, challenges, and ministry right where I am. But don’t expect to see me on any baking shows; I’m holding on to my box mixes.
12 Books from 2024
Although we’re still two months out from the close of 2024, I take a break from blogging at the beginning of November until the New Year. Since that leaves only one more blog post before 2025, I’m sharing some of what I’ve read this year, and maybe it will make your list for next year.
From books covering theology to methodology, my goal is to grow by considering perspectives that challenge, adjust, or reinforce what I think and believe.
I also try to learn at least one lesson from those whose lifestyles might feel foreign to me. I learned from a Quaker steadily boycotting slavery long before the American Revolution and from a legendary rock star shouting injustice in the spotlight that I have a role to play in my generation, but its effect may not fully be realized in my lifetime.
Reading equips me a little more for that role. I’d love to know if you’ve read any of these!
A Non-anxious Presence, Mark Sayers
All My Knotted Up Life, Beth Moore
Developing Female Leaders, Kadi Cole
The Journal of John Woolman, John Woolman
The Paradise King, Blaine Eldridge
The 6 Types of Working Genius, Patrick Lencioni
Practicing the Power, Sam Storms
Practicing the Way, John Mark Comer
Streams of Living Water, Richard J. Foster
Surrender, Bono
Timothy Keller, Collin Hansen
Write Useful Books, Rob Fitzpatrick
The Weight of Waiting
This summer, the boys and I often dropped in at our local YMCA. On the way to my trusty treadmill, I’d pass the weight-lifters and try not to stare at the contorted faces under the strain of their routine (AKA torture). Their effort was audible most of the time, so I’d quickly put my earbuds in place to drown out the sound of their exhaustion.
In reality, a little pain, sweat, and tears are to be expected at the Y. We anticipate spending energy and bearing some discomfort for the health benefits that we’ll gain in return. We know that time + resistance = strength.
What I so easily forget is that time + resistance in life builds strength too - and that resistance usually comes in the form of waiting.
Waiting is a workout for our faith, but I don’t usually wait like I’ve just entered faith’s YMCA, and I don’t willingly sign up for that membership. There’s no sign overhead alerting me to the fact that I’ve just stepped foot into a gymnasium full of opportunities and equipment that will strengthen my faith over time.
If I don’t wait like it’s a workout,
fatigue will come as a surprise.
I’ll chide myself, lose motivation, and I’ll quit.
Time gradually increases the weight and adds in more reps that won’t crush my faith; instead, time chisels it. While waiting, faith pushes back to become shapely and strong, capable of so much more than its previous limits.
If you’re waiting on God, he’s attentive and knowledgeable and deeply committed to increasing your faith’s stamina, like a personal trainer at the Y.
“Have you not known? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint and to him who has no might he increases strength.
Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted; but they who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; they shall walk and not faint.” Isaiah 40:28-31
So Creepy
When we lived overseas, we learned the hard way that what makes you more susceptible to being car-jacked is if you’re sitting in your parked car in broad daylight. These facts leave you vulnerable:
The setting can be clearly evaluated in the sunlight: no one else is nearby.
You have keys to the vehicle you’re sitting in: the get-away will be easy.
You obviously don’t know better: the target is naive.
We couldn’t be totally immune to this threat ever happening to us again, but we could be on guard once we knew what made us vulnerable. And the same is true in our faith.
I’m creeped out by the words of 2 Timothy 3:5-7, “…Avoid such people. For among them are those that creep into households and capture weak women, burdened with sins and led astray by various passions, always learning and never able to arrive at a knowledge of the truth.”
After describing the type of people who creep into homes with false content, Paul points out three characteristics that weakened the women’s faith, making them easy targets for creepers. They were:
Carrying sin around. A burden as heavy as unconfessed sin leaves us without strength under the weight of its accusations. But repentance releases us (1 John 1:9).
Controlled by pleasure. Shackled to every whim and desire, we’re dragged one way and then the other in search of the next comfort. But the Spirit is stronger (Galatians 5:16).
Constantly learning, but never concluding. Content consumption is just spinning mental wheels if it doesn’t lead to or align with conclusive truth. But the Word is the source of real life-change (John 17:17).
Let’s not learn the hard way.