It’s a paradox, like many other truths in the Kingdom, that when you are most needy you are most blessed.  When my heart is hurting, I can receive God’s love and comfort in the most meaningful ways. When I fall short, I fall on Christ’s forgiveness and find a new starting place. When I am most alone, my soul can sense the overwhelming sweetness of the Holy Spirit’s presence. When my spirit is dry and and needy, and aware of all the empty places inside, the Living Water is all I crave. “Blessed are the poor in spirit for theirs is the Kingdom of Heaven.” (Matthew 5:3)

That’s why the apostle Paul could say “… for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10) My weakness, my lack, my difficulties– traded for Christ’s strength, Christ’s provision, Christ’s presence and love. Hardly a fair trade, but then, the Cross was always about pure, poured-out grace for those who knew their need.

I’m not at the place yet where I can find delight in my weakness. Maybe just knowing where to turn for help is a good start though. And accepting the way this feels, not trying to ignore it or to fill up with something else to fix it any way I can. Because there is only One who is enough for the poor in spirit.

“All of You is more than enough for all of me
For every thirst and every need
You satisfy me with Your love
And all I have in You is more than enough.” (Enough, Chris Tomlin)

“We are hard pressed on every side,but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair;  persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.” (2 Corinthians 4:8-10)

It was last evening on Rails to Trails, somewhere in the second mile, when I was putting one foot in front of the other, head down, trying not to pay attention to the twinge in my hip and the ache in my knee, that it hit me how much I had missed on this walk. Looking straight up was this sheer glory of gold-green leaves arching against vivid blue, the trademark of early Fall evenings. A few stray leaves had already fallen to decorate the trail with their shapes and colors, and all around was the cool shaded woods, up ahead a little bridge over the creek. And it hit me all at once that faith and determination can indeed choose to take each small step, push me forward to a new place, but if I keep my head down, I will miss all the beauty with which He paints the path.

Eugene Peterson uses a phrasing in The Message version of Colossians 1 that always resonates with me, probably because I need to hear it: “We pray that you’ll have the strength to stick it out over the long haul—not the grim strength of gritting your teeth but the glory-strength God gives. It is strength that endures the unendurable and spills over into joy, thanking the Father who makes us strong enough to take part in everything bright and beautiful that he has for us.” Faith and obedience and self-discipline can keep you on the right path, but it is God’s strength that makes it sheer joy…thankfulness that paints the trail in all the glorious colors of grace.

So give me eyes to see, dear Lord. Give me ears to hear, and don’t let me miss what You are doing all around me. Let thankfulness re-focus my eyes on You. Let me walk in Your strength and be renewed day by day in this slow and steady race.

I hate this feeling of being stuck, of not liking where you are, or even who you are, and feeling helpless to change any of it.  Time drags, and it seems like nothing will change or get any better, no matter what you try. I’ve been here before too many times to count, and I know in my head the only way to get somewhere else is one small step at a time, faithfully putting one foot in front of another till you get to a better place, even though it feels like going nowhere. Sometimes you just have to walk by faith.

At some point in life I started saying “Slow and steady wins the race” to myself, and I don’t even remember when.  It comes from the old story of The Tortoise and the Hare, when the rabbit races off in a cloud of dust, sure he will win the race between himself and the slow tortoise.  I always felt sorry for the turtle, who could not speed up even if he tried– and how can you help but admire that persistence that keeps putting one foot in front of another till he arrives at the finish line, while the over-confident rabbit sits down to take a nap? It must have made quite an impression on a little girl, because years later that principle still sticks with me.

The apostle Paul agrees: “… one thing I do: forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14 ESV) Pressing on, one step at a time is the only way to win any race at all; I don’t know why we are so quick to gloss over that fact.  Why the tendency to boast that if we had this thing we could run better? or if we were here instead of there we would surely run farther? or if we had more incentive we could finish first? What lack in ourselves are we trying to cover up with all that wind and smoke– when all any of us can do is put one foot after another, and all that matters in the end is finishing? More and more I find myself praying for faithfulness to keep on walking, to do the things in front of me well, for the glory of God, whatever they are– to be content with what He has placed before me. Because the only way to ever get anywhere and to become anyone is to master the small steps, one at a time.

So days like this when I feel stuck in a situation, without the energy to push ahead, I think of the tortoise and repeat his creed, Slow and steady wins the race, and I know that when I am closest to faltering that is when I need it the most.  Just fix my eyes on Jesus and do the thing in front of me, whatever it is.  Show love to that person. Complete a task that waits. And then the next thing, and the next. “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men…” (Colossians 3:23) Because He did the hardest thing, “for the joy that was set before Him.” You could say it is the only solution for getting unstuck– and it is definitely the first step that is the hardest– but faithfulness in the small things is the best way to finish this race and get safely Home.

“Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2

“His master said to him, ‘Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little; I will set you over much. Enter into the joy of your master.”  Matthew 25:23

This is the first Fall in twenty years that we have not been sending someone off to school.  It feels strange to see the piles of notebooks in the store and walk on past, get excited at the colorful desk supplies on the shelves and then realize that none of that applies to us any more.  I have always loved this time of year, the familiarity of the back-to-school schedule, the change in the way the air feels, the color in the trees, the excitement of a home that embraces learning.  In the space, the quiet, I think how this Fall is something new– I wonder what birds do with nests when they lay empty, open to the sky.

My daughter is in another state, unpacking boxes of New, organizing the layers of a home, building a nest that will nourish many lives in the years to come. Learning a new town…looking for a job…making new friends…breaking in her new kitchen with the first cooking adventures…wife, homemaker, all grown up this Fall and excited with the learning of it.

I think of a friend who has just sent her only daughter off to Middle School, worried about the adjustments, and another who is excited to be a grandmother for the first time. Then there is the woman who is welcoming her late-twenty-something son back home for a time, and the one who is taking care of her dear fading mother, and the one who is recovering from serious injuries under the care of strangers. New seasons, and unfamiliar, stretching us to capacity and beyond. And I send up whispered prayers for all of us women finding new challenges on our doorsteps, adjusting to the change of circumstances and roles.

We joke in our small group sometimes about the saying that is on my refrigerator: “This too shall pass.”  Hope for mothers of toddlers and teens indeed, but as I get older it takes on a note of warning, a reminder that there is always more to learn, more good-byes to say, and one season will certainly flow into another before you are quite ready. And where would we be without the kindness and encouragement of other women in all these seasons of life?

In the golden light of this new Fall, I sit in a quiet house and wonder what will come, and remember that this is how God made it to be: all the times and seasons flowing towards Him– always changing and shaping us in them, and coming alongside one another to help– till someday there is an End to every season. And He promises to be with us until then.

“You are peace, You are peace, When my fear is crippling
You are true, You are true, Even in my wandering
You are joy, You are joy, You’re the reason that I sing
You are life, You are life, In You death has lost its sting

Oh I’m running to Your arms, I’m running to Your arms
The riches of Your love Will always be enough
Nothing compares to Your embrace
Light of the world forever reign” (Forever Reign– Reuben Morgan and Jason Ingram)

“Whatever I have, wherever I am, I can make it through anything in the One who makes me who I am.” (Philippians 4:13, The Message)

For rose-gold streaked sunset clouds,

For hugs and listening ears,

For chubby baby feet and dimpled smiles,

For daughters who have grown enough to be friends,

For fresh-ground coffee in the morning,

For music and hearts raised in worship,

For new days and clean slates and all that You are,

We give You thanks.

This is the only way to bear the grief and unfairness of this world, and not get lost in the dark–  to turn our eyes toward Heaven and give thanks.

“We give you thanks, O Almighty God, for these your benefits, Who lives and reigns, world without end. Amen.”

“In death, in life, I’m confident and covered by the power of Your great love.
My debt is paid; there’s nothing that can separate my heart from Your great love.” (One Thing Remains, Jesus Culture)

It’s hard to sleep when your brain just keeps on thinking, running down the same paths, over and over, coming up short at the same dead ends, and then doing it all again, getting nowhere. Makes starting a day difficult, with the weight of living already pressing down on your shoulders because you never really laid it down to rest the night before, and you get so tired of carrying it all. Somewhere between emptying the dishwasher of yesterday’s dishes, now clean at least, and wiping the ring off the dining room table (was it really from three days ago already?), and grinding new coffee, I really start listening to the music that have been running through my head: “Your love never fails, never gives up, never runs out on me.”

Maybe that’s what I have left behind in all the round-and-round wanderings of my brain….wrestling with these problems, looking for better answers and a place to lay down these hurts….Your Love that does not change, does not grow weary.  “On and on and on and on it goes;  it overwhelms and satisfies my soul. And I never ever have to be afraid: One Thing Remains.” Have I taken the time to bring to God the things that weigh on me? Or am I just carrying them around, and singing to Him without even thinking about it?

If it is true, that God’s love is the one thing that remains through every other upheaval in life, then it is utterly trustworthy and completely helpful. He loves me; He hears me when I call to Him; He can help me with whatever I face; He will do all things well, for my good and His glory. Do I really believe this on any practical level in my life? Then why is my brain still chasing through the maze of these situations instead of talking to the One who loves me?

“Higher than the mountains that I face, Stronger than the power of the grave, Constant through the trial and the change: One Thing Remains.”  So I weave my worries into words this day, all the chasings of my brain and the things I can’t fix, lift them up to the Love that remains constant.

“Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to You when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I, for You have been my refuge, a strong tower ….” (Psalm 61:1-3)

“Give all your worries and cares to God, for he cares about you.” (1 Peter 5:7 NLT)

I’m watching the azalea bushes get ripped out by the roots, and it feels all wrong, seeing the new growth broken and laid to the ground, remembering the pink and purple blossoms that covered them in the beginning of Summer. All the shrubs by the house have grown too big and are crowding the porch, the front steps. They all have to go, the landscaper says. How can it be a bad thing for living things to grow tall and spread out, like they were meant to do?

It never makes sense to let go of good things in life, when they are still productive and meaningful. It is instinctive to preserve the beautiful, the healthy and growing, logical to stick with it if the results are good, to enjoy the fruit we have earned. And why would anyone deliberately cut off something that benefits? I don’t have the eyes to see it. In the middle of this upheaval and what looks like destruction, all I can do is trust the gardener’s vision of what it could look like, made new.

Jesus said His Father was a wise Gardener, biding His time, with His eyes looking ahead into the next season: “…every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit.” (John 15:2)

It feels like losing something, when good things are cut off– like being wounded and left crippled, betrayed somehow…but hear Him say it in no uncertain terms, that it is the fruitful branches that get cut back, so that the Father can grow them larger and fuller with His own strength in the next season. We may not understand the process, but we can at least trust the Gardener and His loving hands, who does all things well.

The branch knows the cut, the raw ragged edge, the ooze of inner strength seeping away; the Father sees the future shoots that will grow from the wounding, the leaves and fruit and beauty that will emerge slowly, over time.  His time, that we don’t have eyes to see yet, unless they be the eyes of faith. Spring always comes, and there is always hope. There will be flowers again.

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope, and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11

“…there is a counter-intuitiveness to it:  to pluck off certain life activities that will yield good fruit. Some might even think it foolish to pare back, when the bloom and gifting [are] apparent; a good harvest inevitable. Yet it’s the pruning of seemingly good blooms that grows a better life. ” (Ann VosKamp)

I was reading about Rahab, the other day, the woman labeled only by what she did for a living in the city of Jericho. The countryside was stirred up with stories of the invading tribes of foreigners from Egypt, the people who had defied the strong-arm of the civilized world….and now, with rank upon rank of orderly tents, with livestock in droves, and with the mysterious power of a Living God going on above and before them, their advance was no small threat to the settled peoples along the Mediterranean. Especially when they began wiping out the cities of Canaan as they came west to the Jordan.

Rahab was marked by her trade, and it was the very public nature of her house that brought the Hebrew spies there, where no one would notice their comings and goings.  Only someone did and before long the king was hunting them down and they were hidden under the fabric-making supplies on the roof– the open-air household workshop of every industrious woman.

Rahab risked everything to hide them and lie to her own people.  Why would she trust a God she knew only by hear-say to cast her lot with the two spies in this dangerous game of conquest?  And then she hangs a scarlet cord out her window to identify her house to these foreigners, and it makes me think that maybe it was a signal she had used before, but for very different reasons, maybe for her own games of intrigue. Only now it stands for how she is leaving this life behind, and is ready to be marked by something new.

The whole story makes me wonder, not so much because of what she did, but about what came before her actions.  What was going on inside her heart that made her willing to risk it all in hopes of something better?  Maybe life was not so good where she was; maybe she had been longing for a change for awhile and couldn’t find a way out…until now; maybe when her neighbors were in an uproar over the news of invasion, the Breath of God whispered in her ear that He saw her and knew her, that He was coming.  Maybe He called her to follow, and she came, much like the fishermen that would leave their whole lives behind to come when they were called, a little over a millenium later. Or was she just a survivor, who knew how to recognize the changing tides and was willing to jump ship without hesitation in the face of certain destruction? God knew and already had her woven into the biological line of kings and the King of Kings..

When you are in a life-shaking place, a frightening place, and you can’t see your way clear, looking to Jesus will always find you the way to go.  And when He calls, the only right way to respond is to leave everything behind, whether or not it makes sense, and no matter if it is difficult. Leave it all and follow hard.

There was this letter in my box, several weeks ago now, from a young man following the Call into the unknown, tugging at him to turn down the comfortable job offers and go where he saw the hurting and the needy, even if he had no apparent way to pay his bills. And when he obeyed and followed, there was an unexpected job right where he was supposed to be all along.  He wrote this about his faith journey:

“I really struggled to follow my heart, but in the end I rested on the promises of God: ‘But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.’ (Mathew 6:33)
I can testify to how deeply personal and real God has been for me through all of this. He has demanded that I trust him. He has asked me to make some difficult decisions. He has asked me to be uncomfortable just so he could remind me how trustworthy he is. He has indeed been faithful to his word.
‘…if you spend yourself on behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in darkness…he will satisfy your needs…’ (Isaiah 53:10)”

**You can read more about Rahab in Joshua 6.

It’s easy to think that your mistakes are your own, and maybe you have a right to them… especially if you think you can handle the consequences yourself (however short-sighted your perspective may be). Until you have been there yourself, and done things that you can’t take back, and see it affecting the people you love, you don’t really know how connected your life is to other believers– living stones in the temple Christ is building– and how when one crumbles, the stones that stand beside you lose their footing too.

How do you warn someone how easy it is to make reasons for what you do when your heart is ragged and you are just trying to survive? How do you explain from the other side of that fence how you can never go back, and this is something you will always remember, always wonder how things would be different if you had looked for help, realized sooner that obedience is the hardest thing you’ll ever do, and the only thing in life that measures love, shapes faith? How do you pass along what you know now, that God is always present, always faithful, even when circumstances press hard and heaven seems silent?

You can see the ones who have been there; they are “marked with the tenderness of the penitent,” as Ann VosKamp says.  They are people who have learned the hard way that God is more interested in obedience than in happiness, and that He will let everything burn for the sake of the gold remaining. That He will always come through for you, in His own time, His own way, if you wait on Him with a heart surrendered. And maybe that lesson is worth it, in the long run…but what wouldn’t I give to spare another brother or sister that grief?

“Troubles surround me, chaos abounding
My soul will rest in You
I will not fear the war, I will not fear the storm
My help is on the way, my help is on the way

Oh, my God, He will not delay
My refuge and strength always
I will not fear, His promise is true
My God will come through always, always” (Kristian Stanfill)

“And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests. With this in mind, be alert and always keep on praying for all the Lord’s people.” (Ephesians 6:18)

Camping reduces us to the basic needs. In this different environment we are constantly adjusting– new routines, unexpected challenges, at the mercy of the weather, relying on our body’s strength instead of all the conveniences we take for granted. We stretch and learn actively; no passive absorbing of knowledge when you are living in the dirt and the rain, under God’s sky. “Lord, meet our needs this day….” Provide hands to labor, the breeze to cool so we can sleep, wisdom for problem-solving, dry shoes, a flickering candle flame in the dark.

Every day we wake and lift hands up to receive from the One who knows our needs before we do ourselves. There is a curious comfort in resting so completely in our heavenly Father’s care. And when the unexpected arises (which is inevitable when camping), we stop the stress-response and remember He knew this too, and has already planned to provide for those who trust Him; we listen for His voice and look for His answers. Somehow it is easier to see Him here, where we live under His starry sky.

Wonder why this is easier to remember at the basic level– for food and water and sleep and a roof over our heads? When we return to the more complex world of emails and job responsibilities, politics and economics, paying bills and navigating family relationships, will we lift up our empty hands still to say “Give us this day our daily bread”?

It is completely basic. It is utterly true: Today God will meet your needs. Tomorrow He will do it again. This is the way to live in childlike faith wherever we are.

“Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.” Matthew 6:33