faith – Movement in a Mercurial World

I am sure by now it has circulated around the world how the inferno called Texas has frozen over. Talks of global warming have been shelved for more heated debates over the causes of the crisis in Texas. The downed power lines, the overloaded grids, the frozen pipes, the water shut offs, the rolling blackouts, the road conditions which have created chaos for those of us trying to get to essential jobs and for our emergency response teams.

This crisis will pass, we will learn, and be better prepared hopefully. I am praying everyone weathers the storm well. Together. It is in crises like this that reveal the condition of the human heart. I have experienced the kindness and sacrifices of so many. My nursing coworkers coming in early for each other, sleeping in the hospital on cots, no hot showers, staying days on end. My managers sleeping on their office floors so their nurses can have a bed as they care for our needs. My coworkers working tirelessly through their own exhaustion to keep our patients safe and harbored from the storm while their worried parents can’t visit. I have had countless people check in. A dear friend let me stay in her home so I could navigate a shorter drive to work. My husband helped me prep for my 30 mile drive in and as I said goodbye the power went out. He weathered the worst of it by himself in a 40 degree house, yet I never heard him gripe about it.

I want to thank all the police officers- my cousin Cody, our neighbor Al, all the emergency workers out there in this craziness keeping us sane and safe- Andrew, my cousin’s husband. All the people working around the clock so people in nursing homes and hospitals can have the life giving things they need. All the workers keeping our city going, my brother-n-law, Justin working to keep people safe from downed lines and to keep lines of communication open. My church and all the others for opening their doors to those who can’t keep warm. Friends offering homes, food, water, shelter. My coworkers for bringing laughter to a hard situation and just doing what we have to do and doing it well.

It’s easy in these situations to let our heart show. And Texas has a big one.

As hours and days wear on, it’s warring on our hearts. It is tiresome.

I confess, I have a heart condition.

And it lived there long before this crisis brought it to the surface. I know this because I know its tendencies everyday, when little crises spin their scripts. I have seen my reflection many times in the faces of others I have hurt. I thought I had trained myself at this point in life to be fairly selfless. And then marriage reflected how many decisions I make in a day that are centered around me. I know how much my emotions and body can dictate what level of kindness comes forth. I’ve gotten pretty good at keeping my chin up until I actually have to do a pull up. I know my heart and its love of self. I know how it likes to tell its tale of woe to my head.

It talks a lot.

I thought I knew my heart best, and that I was resigned to the attached strings which pull at it. But God is far more acquainted with it than I am.

King David of Israel said, “O Lord, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down, and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways. Even before a word is on my tongue, behold, O Lord, you know it altogether” Psalm 139:1-4.

We can hide our heart from others, and keep it together most of the time, but there is no hiding from the knowing of God.

How despairing! My heart sinks like the stone that it can be so often.

But God is also a good, kind Surgeon with a remedy, “I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh” Ezekiel 36:26.

I had a moment of open heart surgery today. I don’t want to brave the roads anymore, pack another bag, leave my husband and stay overnight so I can work another dayshift. Home is my comfort, my safe haven, it is a healing place for me. There’s nothing wrong with wanting these good things. But God cares far more about the intents of my heart and its actions than He does any false bravado. (For the record I have none for Interstate 35.)

As I was throwing my own pebbles into the pond of despair, trying not to compare situations, all the while comparing other’s situations so as to remove the focus from my own, I hit a rock. Let’s just call that rock a revelation of a deeper desire that was fueling my mood. It is a good desire. But the way I was desiring it, my way- was not good because it is not the situation God has placed me in.

God showed me that I could give Him that rock, and trust. Trust that He places us in the situations we live in for greater purposes, or let it continue to sink the state of my heart.

After sinking for a few minutes longer, I was like, “Fine!”

“Fine?”

“Yes, fine, you can have it.” (You can see I have a very mature relationship with God.)

“Ok.”

“That’s all?”

“Until you give me all of it, your desires, your struggles, your heart, I can’t remove the stone that you think you so desperately need when in reality it is creating a hole that is hemorrhaging away the blessing of receiving a softer heart.”

Lord, give me a heart that is soft, open, and new! Plant in me a heart that doesn’t tire of well doing. Give me a heart that sees others as you do. And let my heart admit its sin. Grant me the heart that you created me for, one that reflects yours.

I pray that when all this ice turns into a puddle, we find our reflection is full of His glory and grace that got us through!

As I was posting, these fresh daffodils appeared on my FB memories from 6 years ago. God’s goodness in His timing of making all things new!

I have longed dreamed of a honeymoon in paradise. When I close my eyes, I am laying there, on a white-washed beach, the sounds of nature serenading, my groom attentively at my side, the waves lapping at my feet and not a soul around.

Unfortunately this year required eyes wide open. And our honeymoon plans were delayed by the changing of our wedding plans. For the third time. That was a bit crushing… so we looked ahead. With our antibodies on board, boarded a plane for St. Thomas in the Virgin Islands.

After the flurry of travel we arrived. For someone who has a real love for third world countries and cultures, I was a bit shocked at the layout of this first world territory. The shuttle dropped us off at the rental car place, surrounded by barbwire over a falling down brick wall. “Do we need to document dings on the car before we go?” “Nope.” (For the first time I said yes to that expensive insurance.) In our freshly cleaned, “non-smoking” car, we took off. I navigated as my husband drove on the left side of the road, up the mountain, on actual hair pin turns. (Isn’t a pin straight?) No guard rails and the roads that were labeled were numbered, while my phone map had lovely names like Magen’s Bay Road.

Let’s just say it was tense.

We survived, and the next day headed for our beach, 1.3 miles from our house. We thought we could just hike down to it as our Airbnb had boasted. The “hike” was walking down that mountain snake of a road with no bike lane. We decided to roll down it in our little beat up car.

We sat on the beach at last, our first day in our paradise! It was beautiful especially after driving through the rough locale.

The change in scenery however, didn’t do much for my heart. I had been sorting through some serious conversations in my head of late. Didn’t realize I had packed them with me until I sat there.

I was struggling with the division all around me and in me. I sat there beside my new groom but words wouldn’t come. He had just loss his last grandparent and was missing her funeral because of our plans and timing. Our last grandparent. My last passed two months before our wedding. A lot had died with them. And their generation.

We sat in the stillness.

Not far from us on our beach, we overheard voices projected through a microphone. We had passed a tent set up, saw the people milling around, all dressed up.

A wedding was happening.

I wryly wondered if her plans had gone similar to mine.

A long blue aisleway led down into the water. We waited as the ceremony went on out of sight. People began to flank the aisleway, cameras ready. There she was, in a black swimsuit cover, being wheeled down… in her beach wheelchair.

Her wide, sun-splitting smile was her only needed adornment.

No groom, she was the bride of Christ. It was her baptismal day. More than a few people were gathered on that Tuesday morning. Clapping and rejoicing filled the air as the ocean roared in response. She was sent off with encouraging shouts, as she was wheeled into the sea by two strong gentlemen. She raised her hands. But it wasn’t enough for her to just float. They wheeled her back out, walked her back in, this time with a walker. The waves washed against her and she stood there for some time soaking in the grace of God, her sins washed out with the tide. Strangers on the beach watched and cheered.

The world had its eyes on the transition of our Commander in Chief, the changing of the guard.

Yet the host of heaven watched tenderly as this beloved daughter, who had fought her way through life, found a way to obey the commands of Christ, and shout to the world, “I am His, He is mine!”

Her act of obedience may have only produced a ripple here on earth, but it drew waves in eternity. For the things that earth barely notices, God keeps a careful watch out for- the sparrow that falls, the lily that grows, the woman who couldn’t walk unassisted to her own baptism, and the young bride sorting through her emotions. God cares and He sees. And I realized that in my disappointments, God has His own plans moving forward all the time, building His everlasting kingdom. One day we will realize His are far more real than the turning tides of any earthly one.

Every step in our life is gaining momentum towards something.

As I turned to my new husband, in awe of the gift God had shared with us, I saw how much it had touched him too. And I was thankful to be here, to witness this act of obedience. This reminder, which one day in eternity will reveal its fullness. Lord knows she doesn’t even know how it moved me outside of myself.

I let it soak in and wash away my disappointments heaped like a pile of sandy earth. They were going out with the tide. Because that is what the cares of this life become– not insignificant, but lighter, in comparison to a mighty God who is accomplishing far more than we could ever ask or imagine, much less see. Can you imagine a coming glory revealed through Jesus in us, that is incomparable with our current sufferings? (Romans 8:18)

For all of us facing deep disappointment or despair, take courage in the next small step, that action that defies your emotions. That ripple is producing movement you don’t even have eyes for yet.

If I can know how to love you better by praying or encouraging, send me a message!

Tag Archives: faith

Don’t lose your warm heart, Texas.

Belated Plans Are Often Better