Ebenezer Collective

STEADFAST – An unwavering faith and unyielding love for the Gospel

Are you standing firm in your parenting, consistent and resolute, or unsteady and unreliable? What about in marriage – how do you react when you feel frustrated, exhausted, or don’t feel you have been adequately loved by your spouse? Do you find that you waver between discouragement, anger, sadness, or even shame? How do you react when someone you love is suffering? Are you hopeful or hopeless?

Paul writes, “Therefore, my beloved brothers, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that in the Lord your labor is not in vain.” (1 Corinthians 15:58) Do you know what you are working towards or for? In Colossians 3:23, Paul reminds us that whatever we do, we should do it for the Lord while giving thanks to Him.

Much of this depends on where our perspective is focused. Are we more focused on ourselves and the present, or God and eternity? Where is our hope? In getting likes on social media, relationships, success, power, money, well-behaved children, abilities, our house, car – in “stuff”? In Romans 8:24-25 Paul writes about our eternal hope, hope that is unseen, and he encourages us to wait for it eagerly, with perseverance. C.S. Lewis said, “If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Truly, we were made for another world, but while we are here, we can remain steadfast in our faith by increasing our knowledge of God’s character and faithfulness. We can stand firm now in believing that Jesus died for our sins and that we have a new life in Him through His resurrection, – but there is another life, another world, that we are meant for. Until we are reunited with our sovereign Creator and loving, gracious Father, we are in a battle here. We have a never-ending battle that we have to fight – we must stand firm and be steadfast.

Our fight against is against this world. In 1 John 2:15-16 we are told, “Do not love the world or anything in the world…For everything in the world—lust and pride, come from the world.” We are constantly in battle with what this world tells us we need, but we can combat this by focusing on faithfulness to God and remaining in His will. Jesus says, “And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?” (Matthew 16:26) Paul gives us sound advice on remaining steadfast in our battle against the world, “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Romans 12:2)

Our fight is against the enemy. Peter tells us that the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour (1 Peter 5:8). We live in a fallen world and our enemy is the father of lies. He wants to ruin our marriages, our relationships with our children, trust in our workplace. He wants to convince us God is not good and is holding out on us, disobedience is not a problem, and that we deserve to be like God. To be steadfast, we have to know how to do battle first. Paul gave us precise instructions in Ephesians 6, “Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes…”

Our fight is against our flesh. Have you wondered why you constantly have those thoughts in your mind about indulging yourself and giving yourself whatever you want because you deserve it? Paul contrasts our flesh and sinfulness with the fruits that come from abiding in the Spirit in Galatians 5:16-17, “So I say, walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh. For the flesh desires what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh. They are in conflict with each other, so that you are not to do whatever you want.” Romans 8:5 gives us more clarity, “Those who live according to the flesh have their minds set on what the flesh desires; but those who live in accordance with the Spirit have their minds set on what the Spirit desires.” We can be steadfast in our fight against the world by following Jesus’ instructions in Luke 9:23, “If anyone wants to follow after me, let him deny himself, take up his cross daily, and follow me.”

Our steadfastness is unwavering faith and unyielding love for the Gospel of Jesus Christ until the day Christ comes back. Prayer is powerful. We can not change this world, control others, prevent hardships, or end suffering, but we can pray fervently to the One who can. And we need to be on our knees praying every single day.

Paul writes in 2 Timothy 4:7, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” God’s power gives us strength and we have a responsibility with what God has already given to resist the enemy’s attempts. We have all that we need.

Now ready yourself, remain steadfast, and let’s go fight the good fight, together!

Here are some questions to ask yourself as you think about the topic of steadfastness:

1. Where do you find yourself seeking to find hope and fulfillment?

2. How does our future hope encourage you to remain steadfast in your faith?

3. Which battle do you feel most at war against (this world, the enemy, your flesh)?

*Additional verses:

Isaiah 26:3

Phillipians 4:11-13

John 16:33

John 8:44

John 5:30

Ephesians 6:10-18

Galatians 5:19-25

Amy Merritt

SNAPSHOTS, part 2

Johanna Bonner

*Welcome back for part 2 of Johanna’s story! These are some of the snapshots of her life that she has felt compelled to share with others through her own social media outlet. We are so encouraged by her bravery and vulnerability to share hard parts of her life with others and hope that you will be as well! In case you missed it, be sure to check out part 1 from last week.

On unconditional love and support…

When I was little, my dad often traveled for speaking engagements and missions trips. I remember his coming into my room in the morning, when it was still dark, to say goodbye. I would take his face in my hands and kiss his bald head, and then I would feel so sad. Because when he was gone, I couldn’t hear his alarm clock go off at 3:45am for the paper route, or hear him down in the kitchen a few minutes later, cracking open his Pepsi. His presence and everything about him were a comfort to me. Whether he was reading a book, doing the newspaper Jumble, pretending to be sleeping so he didn’t have to answer you, or asking you to do something he was perfectly capable of, just so you’d stay with him; he was always there. Steady. Unwavering. Fiercely loyal and protective.

In the first photo, at my sissy’s wedding, I was mostly healthy, mentally and physically. Neither the migraines nor depression were chronic at that point. The second photo is of one of the lowest points in my life. I was frail in mind and body, heavily addicted to anything that would numb me. I cared about little else than fueling that addiction; I was willingly, some days happily, dancing with death. I would enter rehab three months later.

But my dad. The constant in both. Possibly about to doze off in the first, doing his crossword puzzle in the second. Not saying much in either; just there. Always there. His presence ever a comfort, his Pepsi always within reach. Then, just as now.

On rehab…

On October 31, 2013, I entered rehab. I felt equal parts shame, exhaustion, and relief. I had just taken a 12 hour car ride while going through withdrawal. I was weak and I was weary. Immediately, upon entering the facility, someone took my suitcase into another room and removed anything that could be used to harm myself, including my hairspray. Do you know how hard it is to find hairspray free of any alcohol?

After I finished checking in, I was driven to another part of the building, and staff walked me into a bright, sterile, shiny, hospital-like hallway. As I turned around and watched the heavy metal doors close me in, I caught a glimpse of my husband carrying our baby, walking back to his car. I almost fell to the ground. I’d never felt such emptiness. I started to look around my new surroundings, and to my left was a station of nurses with their carts, and a line of people getting their meds in a little cup. They would swallow them and then open their mouths to show they had indeed taken the pills. I looked straight ahead, and a battered-looking woman was walking toward me, staring at the ground and muttering. At that point, for a split second, I wanted to turn around and run out the doors. I thought, “What am I doing here? Surely I don’t belong here.” Then I took a deep breath, looked at the woman again, and thought, “But for the grace of God, there go I.” I said to myself, “Johanna, that’s where you’re headed. This is exactly where you need to be.”

I shared a room with a kind, outgoing paralegal who would stay up late until the cart came out with the sleepytime tea. She would bring me back a cup with honey, because she knew I just wanted to stay in the room. In that treatment facility I would meet some of the funniest, smartest, most insightful people I’ve ever known. They were grandparents, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters, attorneys, physicians, accountants, nurses, and engineers. As I came to learn, addiction is no respecter of persons.

One of the many people I would talk to upon admission asked me what I wanted out of my stay. I said, “I want my eyes back.” What did I mean? she asked. Well, I explained, the light was gone, like a candle that had been snuffed out. My eyes were dark, empty, hollow; a true window into my soul. They were glazed over, oftentimes my pupils so dilated that my eyes truly looked black. I *hated* looking in the mirror. (If you know me, you know I’ll never pass up the chance to look in a mirror. I get it from my dad.) But I hated my reflection. I hated the person looking back at me. I pitied her. I felt disconnected from her. I didn’t recognize her. But as the days went by, as I nourished my body healthfully and showered everyday, as I talked with counselors, attended classes, shared in groups, made friends, and most importantly ceased my use of narcotics, the light slowly came back. One day I found myself dancing down the halls, singing. And for the briefest moment, I recognized myself. When Jimmy visited me a few days later, the first thing he said was, “Your eyes look so good.”

I entered rehab on Halloween. My daughter wanted to be Strawberry Shortcake that year. We had already gotten her costume and the pink hair dye. Her Aunt Trina painted her face. When Jimmy showed me the pictures of her, I just sobbed. I thought she looked so sad. I felt like such a failure. I thought my husband and daughter were so embarrassed of me. Jimmy looked at me and said, “Are you kidding me Johanna? You’;re our hero. We need you and you’re getting better for us.” Yeah, yeah, he’s a saint. In that moment, I vowed to myself that I would be there for her next Halloween, trick-or-treating alongside her. She wanted to be an evil witch with orange hair that year, I tried not to analyze it too much. But there I was, healthy and fully present; and as we walked hand in hand, my eyes shone as brightly as hers.

On relapse, being a wife and mother…

Three months after I got out of rehab, I relapsed. I couldn’t bring myself to tell anyone because I felt like such a failure. It used to be that anything I put my mind to, I could accomplish. But when it came to addiction, I was utterly helpless; lost to its power.

There’s a saying in AA “that you’re only as sick as your secrets.” My deepest secret was that I wasn’t sure I wanted to get better. Because addicts are supremely selfish. And I was living for myself. And since I had shut everyone out, the guilt and the shame I felt were eating me alive. The aching and the loneliness echoed throughout my soul.

My biggest mistake was not trusting Jimmy with the truth. With my heart. Together, we have learned a lot about addiction and recovery over the years. But at that point, and to no fault of his own, Jimmy thought rehab had fixed me. How could I tell him it hadn’t? The addiction had already caused so much pain and driven a wedge between us. The worst part was that deep down, I knew I couldn’t be fixed. Yes, I was in constant pain, but I’d dealt with chronic pain for years. This was more. Something was wrong. I was angry all the time. I had no desire to live. I found joy in absolutely nothing. I fantasized about living on the streets, where I could take all the pills I wanted, sleep as much as I wanted; no judgment.

For most of my life, I thought being a stay-at- home mom was the worst thing that could ever happen to me. Not one part of me found that to be appealing. But all that changed when Sophie was born. I loved every minute of being home with her, and had never felt more fulfilled. So what had happened to me? How had I become THIS?? A mother who longed for no responsibility, a mother who truly believed her daughter would be better off without her? But the thought I could never bear was of my little girl calling someone else Mama.

The truth is, there was something wrong with me. My brain was chemically imbalanced, and that’s putting it mildly. I was literally not in my right mind. I knew it wasn’t normal to want to live on the streets, but it’s how I felt, and I didn’t know how to fix it. No one did. A couple weeks after this picture was taken, a neurologist was finally able to determine what had been causing the migraines and depression. I felt hope for the first time in years.

I determined a long time ago that I would find meaning in all this. And I did. Because grace took my shame, and gave it a purpose. I know I’m not unique. I know millions of people suffer from chronic pain and depression and addiction. But I felt so alone. And it was no one’s fault, because you can’t know what you don’t know. But I share these things in case one fewer person can feel less alone.

I always wanted to like this picture. But the truth is, I don’t remember much about this day. I was in the heaviest part of my relapse and just 2 days later I would quit pills for good. It’s taken time, but I’ve learned to feel compassion for the woman in this picture. I mourn her lost years, and I never let her slip too far away. I honor her. Because of the fight she put up, I’m still here. I realize I’m talking as though we’re two separate people. But that’s how it feels. I’m not sure that will ever change.

When I think of Jimmy, I think of his smile. It had faded over the years, and I was terrified it would disappear permanently. And my baby girl. She wasn’t feeling well this day, but she was always smiling too. I couldn’t bear the thought of being someone or doing something that would forever negatively alter the course of her life. So I fought for them. I fought for their smiles. I didn’t care about myself yet, but I did care about losing them. And the rest came in time. I hit rock bottom. A couple times. But I thank God every day that these two were the rock at my bottom.

On recovery, redeeming love…

Every once in awhile I still wake up in cold sweats, panicked. I feel like I’m right back in the middle of it all, consumed with guilt over the last foolish choice I made. Then I take a deep breath and remind myself. It’s over. I made it to the other side.

My daughter was 3 when I first started taking pills. I was a functioning addict for a year and a half before it consumed my life. I used to be filled with shame, wondering what she would think of me when she discovered what I had been. Then I realized something: I control this narrative. If it’s something I hide, it inherently implies shame.

Sophie is 10 now. She knows about addiction and depression. But she also knows about Jesus. That His yoke is easy and His burden is light. All we have to do is come.

This photo was taken at our daughter’s Christmas assembly this past December. Our life isn’t perfect by any means. It’s messy and busy, but it’s also full of laughter and love.

Some days I’m stopped in my tracks, in awe over what God’s done in my marriage and family. And just when I think it can’t get any better, there’s another baby boy on the way.

DISCIPLINE – Experiencing true freedom through sacrifice and obedience

In just a few short weeks, our globe will be captivated by the awe-inspiring athleticism of the world’s elite athletes. We will “ooh” and “ahh” at the strength, speed, agility, and grace exhibited across various forms of competition. Though these men and women come from various walks of life, representing different countries, cultures, and beliefs, they all have something in common. Discipline.

Jesus called those who followed Him most closely His disciples. These were those who sat at His feet and walked in His dust every day during His ministry. The word “disciple” is clearly rooted in the word “discipline.” Discipline is a word we often cringe at, because we know that to be truly disciplined means we have to sacrifice something. Whether it’s passing on dessert, not buying those to-die-for heels, or waking up 30 minutes earlier to make it to the gym. Even if we value or desire that which we are aiming for, the discipline required to attain it moves us out of our comfort zone.

Jesus challenged His followers that if they truly wanted to be His disciples they needed to live disciplined lives. In Luke 9:23 Jesus says, “Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me.” Jesus clearly states that discipleship requires self-sacrifice. At another point in His ministry, in John 8:31, He says, “If you hold to my teaching, you are really my disciples.” Holding to His teaching means obedience to His Word. Self-sacrifice and obedience are two of the characteristics that Jesus says marks those who are truly His disciples. (Let’s also not forget LOVE; John 13:35) But look at what Jesus says in verse 32 of John 8: “Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

For myself, discipline used to sound like the opposite of freedom. Freedom is eating whatever I want, sleeping late, lounging around the house in my PJs all day, and binging on Netflix. But if I really think about it, simply doing the things I want to do never moves me closer to the person I want to be. No relationship, no skill or talent, no task has ever been improved upon when I choose to just do what’s comfortable. The truth is, real freedom (not the counterfeit version of freedom that society has convinced us of) requires discipline.

Let’s think back to those Olympians who will soon have us all in awe and wonderment; in particular, envision an ice-skater. The freedom of expression they display as they gracefully glide, leap, twirl, and seemingly defy gravity is the result of discipline and obedience to their coach. If we desire the freedom Christ promises, we too must practice discipline and obedience to our Teacher. This comes by renewing and transforming our minds through His Word and then applying it to our lives through acts of discipline, sacrifice, and obedience (*Romans 12:1-2). If Christ-likeness is our goal, discipline is our means. We may not always understand all of God’s ways, and sometimes His instructions can seem painfully impossible, but just like an athlete, we know that discipline produces progress. Only after we have disciplined ourselves can we appreciate the wisdom of our Teacher and experience true freedom.

Here are some questions to ask yourself as you think about the topic of discipline:
1. What are some areas of your life where you want to experience true freedom?

2. What does freedom in those areas look like to you?

3. What steps of discipline do you think would enable you to achieve your goal? (ie: spending more time in God’s Word, having a more disciplined prayer life, sharing my hurts and hang-ups with trusted friends and believers, memorizing Scripture, etc)

*Additional reading on DISCIPLINE
1 Corinthians 9:24-27
Galatians 5:13-26
Philippians 4:8-9
Colossians 3
2 Timothy 2:1-7
2 Peter 1:3-11

Jenni Norsworthy

SNAPSHOTS, part 1

Johanna Bonner

*We are excited to share from Johanna! This week and next week, we will share some of the snapshots of her life that she has felt compelled to share with others through her own social media outlet. We are so encouraged by her bravery and vulnerability to share hard parts of her life with others and hope that you will be as well!

For a couple of years I had been wanting to share my experience with chronic pain, depression, and addiction, though I wasn’t sure how to go about it organically. A close college friend came to visit when I was at the height of my addiction, just days before my inpatient stay, and she said something I’ve never forgotten:

“If I would’ve thought anyone had it all together, it would be you.”

I never sought out to appear as though I had everything together, and clearly nothing was further from the truth, but is that the image I was somehow portraying? I always knew if I made it to the other side that I would share my experience in hopes of helping others. I just wasn’t sure I would make it…

My daughter took an unremarkable photo this summer. But it was only later when I looked at it that I realized she had actually captured something pretty remarkable. My only social media account is Instagram, and that evening I felt compelled to share a little bit about my journey with depression. I asked my husband if he minded, and then I pressed ‘share.’ Within minutes, something I always knew in my heart was confirmed. People are struggling. Life is hard.

Soon after I began going through old photos that were once too painful for me to even look at. I would go back to that day, sit with the feelings evoked by the picture, and I would write. The following are essays I’ve written on a variety of topics:

On depression…

I’ve battled depression since I was about six months postpartum with my daughter, Sophie. Over the years it has ranged from suffocating, to barely there, and everywhere in between. Although the darkness is mostly light now, every once in awhile I have a week where it feels like I’m drowning and I can’t come up for air. But then I do. By God’s grace, through a good talk with an old friend, listening to my kids play and laugh, taking a walk, or any number of things; not the least of which is my husband Jimmy – always steady, never wavering, just loving me through. And soon enough, life is light again. Then as I swiped through photos, deleting what seemed like 100 pictures that my daughter had taken, I realized something…she had captured the fog lifting, on an ordinary summer night.

On chronic pain, depression…

This is one of those pictures that, no matter how many phones I’ve smashed to pieces, manages to always show up on the next phone. For years I would almost delete it because it brought back so much pain for me. But when I see it now, I feel immense gratitude and relief over how far I’ve come. I had chronic migraines for 6.5 years, and the doctors could never say which caused which, but what they could say for sure is that the migraines and depression exacerbated each other and it became one vicious cycle. The migraines kept me in bed for days, sometimes weeks, at a time; sent me to the ER about once a month; and caused me to see the top neurologists and Mayo Clinic for spinal taps and MRIs and MRVs. We tried chiropractors and natural doctors and herbal remedies and rounds and rounds of Botox.

And all. the. pills. So. many. pills.

Eventually I became addicted to pain pills and am only alive by God’s grace and through the unconditional love and support of mine and Jimmy’s family. I went through rehab and outpatient programs and support groups, all of which was vital to my now 3.5+ years of recovery. I say all that to say this…the blackness of depression was worse by far than any physical pain I ever felt. I distinctly remember feeling jealous of my five-year-old because she could get up, get herself dressed, eat breakfast, go to school, come home and play, do her homework, all with a smile on her face and endless energy. I managed to do little more than stare at a wall all day. Taking a shower was a major accomplishment. Yet I did manage to drag myself out of bed to meticulously iron the pleats in Sophie’s skirts (but that’s a whole other level of crazy).

I share these things for a couple reasons, I think. First, I am not ashamed. But I was. I was filled with so much shame, especially over the addiction, and I thought I was irreparably broken. I felt so alone. But now I feel nothing but gratitude for it. Because I’m different. And my eyes are opened. Another reason I share is because things aren’t always what they seem. It’s so easy to look at Instagram feeds and feel other or less than. I have to check myself in that area all the time. But honestly, I’m gonna put up a cute picture of my kid over my dog’s diarrhea. Cause who wants to see a picture of that? But the dogs have accidents, my baby screams his head off, my daughter talks back to me, I lose my patience. Some days that all happens before I’m out the door for work.

But back to this picture… My parents were always honest with us about the hard and the holy in life. They didn’t hide their mistakes. They shared them with us in hopes we wouldn’t make the same. And that’s all I want to do for my kids. I see this picture of me and my baby girl, just 5 at the time. I was a mess, physically and emotionally. But there I was. Showing up the best I knew how that day. Some days I couldn’t show up at all. Those were the darkest. But this little girl’s light guided me through the night, and for that I am most grateful.

On twelve-step programs…

I sat in countless meetings and said, “Hi, my name is Johanna. I’m an addict.” HI JOHANNA. (It’s pretty much what you see on TV) And for awhile that was my identity. I thought it defined me, that I had to keep repeating it to myself so that I didn’t forget. But one day I said wait, I’m so much more than an addict. I’m a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, an auntie, a friend, a teacher, A CHILD OF GOD. What if I reminded myself of these things more often? What if these were the things I wouldn’t let myself forget? From then on, I viewed things differently. I won’t forget about the addict part. I can’t afford to. Because addiction is an all-consuming monster that would have eventually killed me. But it no longer defines me. I refuse to let it.

In my groups and meetings, I was often the only one who believed in God. “Why?” they would ask. The answer is simple: I’m here. I’m alive. No human power could ever have saved me. I know because mine and Jimmy’s family gave everything they had trying. Picturing my baby girl in a black dress crawling inside her mother’s casket couldn’t save me. There is no other answer. Only God. And that baby boy I’m holding in my arms? Now he’s a pure miracle.

On chronic pain, addiction…

To give a little insight into my mental state, at the time this photo was taken, I remember thinking my arms looked fat. It was August 2013, and I had just spent 3 weeks in Arizona getting testing done at Mayo Clinic. After $50,000 worth of tests, my sister and I sat in the chief neurologist’s office as he told me I had chronic migraines. I thought, “Great. I already knew that. That’s why I’m here.”

He went on to say there was no way to get rid of them, that we could only try to treat them. He then quadrupled the dosage of two of my medications, and that was that. I walked out that door feeling so defeated. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and die. For 3.5 years, not one day went by that I didn’t have pain in my head. Sometimes it was tolerable, other times unbearable, but my head never for one second didn’t hurt. The next 9 months were a hell on earth, for me and those around me. I basically gave up. I didn’t want to see any more doctors, do any more research, try a medication for the 5th time and hope for different results; none of it. I just wanted to swallow away the pain, one pill at a time. And that’s what I did. Soon I could not physically function without pills in my system, upwards of 30-40/day at times. My doctors told me I shouldn’t still be here, that God must have a reason for keeping me around.

In those next few months I would go to rehab, relapse, go back into treatment, see another top neurologist (who would correctly determine that my serotonin levels were depleted postpartum and start me on a medication that would treat my depression and help keep the migraines at bay), and finally come back to life. And by God’s grace and by putting in the work, I am 3 years, 8 months and 2 days free of pain pills.

I think it goes without saying that was a dark time in our marriage. The darkest dark. It truly felt

like no good could come of it. But when I had completely given up, Jimmy put aside his own pain and carried me until I could walk on my own two feet again. Also, literally. He carried me to the bathroom so many times when I was too weak to get there on my own.

And so we’ve learned, this is love. Through the good times. Through the bad times. Through the times when everything comes crashing down around you. And the funny thing about the hard times is they make you acutely aware of the good times; so much so, that, in the end, you wouldn’t even trade them if you could. Because how could we ever know easy without first knowing hard? And how could we ever see all that light shining through the cracks before first having to put the pieces all back together?

*Read part 2 of Johanna’s story here to hear more from Johanna as she shares more snapshots of how the Lord has walked with her through various seasons of life!

REST – A Rhythm For Which We Were Created

I am a productivity addict. Every one of my college classes counted toward my major or minor, so not one lecture went to waste. The first time I get an unwanted email, I immediately unsubscribe from the list to ensure none of my time will be wasted by that sender in the future. I can’t bring myself to read fiction when there are so many things to be learned and practices to be implemented from more “practical” books. In short, if it’s not productive, it feels like a waste of my time.

Our culture praises productivity, so my little busybody lifestyle doesn’t seem like a problem. How else am I supposed to get everything done?

But what if there’s more to life than doing all the things?

We were created to enjoy our Creator, and that requires us to slow down and enjoy the rhythm at which He built us.

It may seem like rest when we sit down to watch a show or scroll through social media, but I think those mindless activities are more like drugs than the cure. These digital drugs mask our weary symptoms temporarily – leaving us in a funk, not refreshed.

The Bible has a lot to say about rest, and it sounds a whole lot better than the short-term high we find from Netflix. It says we can find peace, refreshment, restoration for our souls, and rest from our suffering and turmoil.* Jesus tells us “come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30)

Our God is so compassionate and loving toward us that one of His 10 commandments is to honor the Sabbath, that is, to rest and worship. He wants what’s best for us, and that includes an entire day spent recovering from a week of work and reconnecting with Him. Rest is not a luxury that slaves get to enjoy, and that is what we were before we met Him. Slaves to our sinful desires. But “Christ has truly set us free. Now make sure that you stay free, and don’t get tied up again in slavery.” (Galatians 5:1 NLT) Let’s refuse to serve that harsh master of productivity any longer. If we just ask, God will help us sift through our to-do list, and clearly see what can be rescheduled or cut from our lives as excess.

We’re no longer slaves to the broken way of the world. In fact, as believers in Christ, we have been adopted as children of The King. Some of our inheritance is reserved for heaven, and some is available here on earth. We don’t have to wait for heaven to find rest for our souls. It is a gift we can enjoy in this life if we will follow His roadmap for living well. “There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works, just as God did from his. Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest.” (Hebrews 4:9-11a, emphasis mine)

The practice of Sabbath will look different for each person. (Let’s not get tangled up in a bunch of rules – that hasn’t gone well in the past!) But if you can find a day each week to unplug, and spend time with The Lord, you will find refreshment for your soul. If, like me, it’s hard to fathom losing a day of productivity, it might take baby steps. It feels like a waste of a day to put off laundry, grocery shopping and emails, but like every spiritual discipline, the payoff is worth the effort. From it we will find a joy that can only come from living in the rhythm for which we were created.

Here are some questions to ask yourself as you think about implementing the practice of Sabbath:

What digital drugs am I using to mask my weariness?
Where do I feel most restful?
What inspires me to worship God?
What day of the week has margin that can be expanded and eventually turned into a Sabbath?

*References for the benefits of rest:

Matthew 11:28-30, Isaiah 14:3, Psalm 4:8, Exodus 23:12, Psalm 23:3

“Garden City” by John Mark Comer – A great resource for the Biblical view on work and rest.

Amanda Buccola

FINDING FAITH IN OUR FUTURE HOPE

Kelli Turner

I’ve always considered myself to be a faithful person. I believe in God and I have always tried to live a godly life.

And then my daughter died unexpectedly.

Her name was Emma, and she was a beautiful, independent, sometimes stubborn 16 month old blonde haired, blue-eyed girl. She was mine and my husband’s only child. The child that we wholeheartedly prayed for. She was our world.

On January 29, 2015, I was called from my classroom, where I had just released my students, to go to the office and wait. A request that seemed unusual, but nonetheless, I waited. I was taken by my principal who appeared to be in a panic. She told me we were going to the hospital. Naturally, since my husband is firefighter and was on shift that day, I thought he must have gotten hurt. It wasn’t him. I wasn’t given many details other than that Emma had been taken to the hospital and I needed to get here fast. That’s never a good thing. Most everything from there is a blur. I went into a room filled with white coats and scrubs. People working tirelessly, though not saying much. I knew. The silence was evidence enough. Emma didn’t survive the accident that occurred while she was with her babysitter.

When I fell on that cold, nasty, hospital floor I asked God why? I begged Him to bring her back. He didn’t. I pleaded with Him to spare her life. He didn’t.

Just like that, everything that I thought and believed about my God suddenly seemed contorted. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t mad when God didn’t answer my prayers. I was angry, sad, confused, and grief stricken. I was quick to see what God wasn’t doing in my life and slow to see what He was doing.

At the time I didn’t realize that God was presenting himself in the form of others. God was there when a young, brown-haired nurse met my husband and I on a cold, trash littered hospital floor and asked to prayer over us. He was there that night riding front seat on a fire truck with my husband’s crew sympathetically holding enough food to feed a small army. He sat with us from the early morning sunrise to well-past dark, daily sharing tears, silence, and the occasional laugh. God dropped gifts at our door, rang the bell, and then left.

Those deeds were God’s work. It was the actions of others that opened my eyes to see that He was there all along. In Matthew 5:16 the Bible says, “Let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father who is in heaven.” When my daughter stopped breathing I thought He stopped working. But God sends people into our lives to do His good deeds. While in my selfishness I thought God didn’t hear me, or dare I say, care about me, I was wrong. When I thought He wasn’t there, He was. He sent those who believe to share His word and His love.

Through my journey I’ve learned so much about myself, my marriage, faith, and eternity. I pray daily to give thanks for the blessings in my life, not just when I need help. I see the world a bit differently as I’ve learned first-hand that life is precious. My marriage is stronger than ever as my husband physically and emotionally picked me up from the lowest point. We have cared for each other, often times as if reading the other’s mind. Because we experienced such grief together I don’t have to explain or justify my thoughts or sudden teary outbursts. I’ve grown closer to God and sought out scripture to help me to better understand, and to cope with the loss. I believe that happiness is a choice. Having a relationship with God makes that choice easy for me. Eternity is a place we all long to be. My daughter is there, I’m certain reaping all the benefits heaven has to offer. She is there among her family and in the presence of God. I know that one day we will meet again and I long for that day to hold and kiss my baby again.

Jesus says in Matthew 5:4, “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” And, I have comfort knowing that my daughter is in heaven. When we trust in the Lord and cast our cares on Him, He promises us many things.

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

A year and a half after losing our daughter, I gave birth to twin boys, Jake and Luke. One who looks just like his big sister, the other who acts just like her. God provided for me. He knew the desires of my heart and granted them. My boys are my hope for the future. When I look at them I’m reminded of a God who loves me and takes care of me.

My faith means trusting in Him despite the circumstances or when it’s convenient for me.

Proverbs 3:5-6 says, “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight.”

Having faith doesn’t mean that I don’t still wonder or worry. I do those things often. What it does mean is that I can rest assured knowing that He is in control. Having faith is a choice that brings me a sense of contentment, which certainly beats the alternative. The best part of my faith is absolutely knowing that my daughter, Emma Kelli, is in heaven and each day here on earth is one day closer to her.

RENEW: Trading our shame for new life

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come!”
2 Corinthians 5:17

We crave fresh starts. Especially this time of year, right? We dream, we set goals, we make new plans, we resolve, we feel renewed. But the truth about renewal is that we cannot be renewed without forfeiting or shedding a part of ourselves. Look at the cycle that God created throughout nature. There’s a whole season devoted to shedding the old followed by another devoted to renewal and new life. Trees shed their leaves in autumn and prepare for new blooms in spring. Shedding and Renewal…it’s a critical process. If the process of shedding and renewal is so critical to the cycle of nature – allowing for growth, maturity, and the bearing of fruit – is there perhaps something that we too can learn from this process that would be critical for our own cycle of growth? And furthermore, if the gift of new life and renewal is seen throughout nature….would not our loving Father gift the same opportunities to His children whom He loves and who were made in His image? This process is not only necessary for our spiritual growth, but it’s also an incredible gift that gives way to fresh starts and new life within our souls. It allows us to shed the trivial, to be purified, and to press deeper into a more meaningful relationship with God. This is the ministry of reconciliation.

Unlike nature, our shedding and renewal process is not clock-work. It doesn’t just happen – it is a choice. We have to want it. And in order to get it, we have to choose to shed our old waste that burdens us. However, our “old waste” does not always feel like a burden; instead, it often feels comfortable. We hang on to it, because without it we feel naked, lonely, and scared. Much like a tree in winter. But without the shedding of leaves, a tree cannot cultivate new blooms or bear beautiful fruit. This shedding, in a spiritual sense, is repentance. John Piper describes repentance as “the change of attitude or behavior that results from the feeling of remorse over the sin.” He continues, “I think it would be wise to say that godly regret is the first step of repentance. And repentance follows and completes the change of heart.” In turn, Piper is stating that remorse and regret lead to a renewed spirit. That’s not exactly what comes to mind when I think about being renewed. But Paul writes to the Corinthians on this as well, “I now rejoice, not because you were grieved, but because your grief led to repentance… For godly grief produces a repentance that leads to salvation without regret, but worldly grief produces death.” (2 Corinthians 7:9-10). Because repentance is a choice to shed the old and accept a renewed spirit, the first step in this process involves remorse, guilt, regret and grief over our sin. Worldly grief over sin leads to shame, anxiety, and fear, and ultimately to death. But godly grief over sin through repentance leads to growth, renewal, peace, and new life. This grief over our own sin is God prying at our heart to give way to new blooms so that we may grow and bear fruit.

As believers, the Lord refuses to let sin and shame rule our life. It is only a matter of time before He gently tugs on our hearts and sheds light on our sin; to the point where it feels uncomfortable and causes feelings of remorse, regret, and even guilt. This is conviction – and it is a beautiful thing. It is a call from God to be renewed. A call to draw near and grow closer to Him. The response to this conviction is not to feel shame, but regret, leading to repentance. Choosing to ignore it can only cause worldly grief which leads to shame and death. But choosing to bring our “old waste” and regret and giving Him that burden?…That is repentance which leads to new life. This is the gift of Grace…that we can find beauty from ashes and that we can be renewed day after day after day. His mercies never end!

“I continually remember (my sin and affliction) and have become depressed. Yet, I call this to mind, and therefore I have hope: Because of the Lord’s faithful love we do not perish, for his mercies never end. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness!”
‭‭Lamentations‬ ‭3:20-23

Lauren Scurry

FAITH – More Than Just Knowledge

As I began to think about the word “faith” and what to say about it that might be encouraging, I’ll be honest and say that I felt a little stuck. I couldn’t think of why the Lord gave me this word to write about…it seemed like I was the wrong messenger. I said a quick prayer asking the Lord to reveal His purpose to me, and within minutes I stumbled upon Mark 9 and was reminded of the type of faith the father had in this story…a type of faith I could relate to. In the story a father brings his son who is overcome with an evil spirit to Jesus, begging Him to heal him after a failed attempt by the disciples to try to cast out the spirit on their own.

Mark 9:21-24 says, “And Jesus asked his father, ‘How long has this been happening to him?’ And he said, ‘From childhood. And it has often cast him into fire and into water, to destroy him. But if you can do anything, have compassion on us and help us.’ And Jesus said to him, ‘ “If you can”! All things are possible for one who believes.’ Immediately the father of the child cried out and said, ‘I believe; help my unbelief!’”

I love how, in the very same breath, the father proclaims his belief in Jesus, but confesses that it’s not enough… that He needs help to really trust. Becca Lafferty, a blogger, said, “This sort of active faith and confession leads to true reversal of evil in the world. Faith comes from hearing the word of God and pressing in to God through prayer. Even when we are faced with unbelief or uncertainty.”

“I believe, help me in my unbelief” has been the cry of my heart for the past year. I’ve literally repeated the words in my head hundreds of times as I’ve fought feelings of doubt and lack of trust. As I say these words and let my heart rest in the fact that I don’t have to have it all together, I get to experience faith. Real trust in Christ, NOT reliance on myself. Hebrews 11:1 says, “Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” When I take my eyes off of God and the hope He offers and instead put them on my circumstances or people in my life, I’m choosing not to trust what I know is true about Him and I’m most likely going to be disappointed and unfulfilled. On the other hand, when I choose to keep my eyes on Him despite my ever-changing circumstances and trust what He says about where my hope comes from, despite what I might see or feel, I am living out FAITH.

Faith requires us to have confidence in our knowledge of what the Bible tells us we can hope for, as well as the kind of trust in God’s Word that changes the way we live. We can intellectually believe facts that the Bible declares about Jesus all day, but until we turn this into something our hearts rely on and until we live in accordance with these beliefs, we just simply know something…we don’t have faith. Proverbs 3:5-6 says, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths.”

This is faith…putting ourselves at risk in order to truly trust and follow Christ, and having an ACTIVE confidence in a God that has proven Himself over and over again.

Eleanor Boynton

CAPTURING JOY THROUGH THE EYES OF AUTISM

Megan Nunley

Let me start off first by introducing myself. My name is Megan. I have been married to a wonderful man, Aaron, for 11 years now and we have two beautiful boys, Parker and Fisher. The story you are about to read starts about two years ago.

My husband and I knew very early on that Fisher was different. You see, our first son, Parker, had a speech delay and went to the Early Childhood School full-time prior to kindergarten to help assist him with his delay. Fisher was not Parker, though, and while he wasn’t speaking as he should, there were also other behaviors he exhibited that made us think it could be something else. I called the Early Childhood School to have him evaluated and when we did, they told us he qualified for speech and admitted him on a full-time basis. Through this time, I still felt it was more than speech, but left it in the hands of the experts. At this same time, I was going through grad school to get certified as a family nurse practitioner. When we studied pediatrics, I would think of Fisher and draw my own possible diagnoses. I had his hearing evaluated specifically to determine if there was some sort of neurological problem to see if he was not able to hear words accurately. As hard as it was to evaluate a child who doesn’t speak, according to the experts, he passed with flying colors.

When I was studying mental health in grad school, I again kept Fisher in my mind, but I canceled it out in my own head because I didn’t see the behaviors that children with mental health disorders exhibited. Fisher’s teacher then contacted me and asked my husband and I to come in and speak with her and some of the other faculty working with Fisher. They had noticed some behaviors from Fisher that warranted an evaluation of autism. They asked if we would be willing to do the evaluation and I think I shocked them when I jumped at the chance. You see, for the past couple of years, I just wanted an answer. I didn’t care what the answer was, if I could just HAVE the answer.

After loads of paperwork and play evaluations, the psychologist met with us to tell us that he was indeed on the autism spectrum. The behaviors I thought he didn’t exhibit were things that I casually brushed off as just being a quirk of my child. The diagnosis didn’t really change things. I did a lot of research online to see if there were any resources I could provide Fisher to help him. We went through the stage where I would have to hug him 50 times a day. We couldn’t even read a bedtime book without a hug at the turn of every page. I talked with those working with him and got conflicting methods to deal with this. I bought him a weighted blanket to help him feel comfort from the pressure. We got a dog to give him a companion that would be his own. But with every attempt to help him, we took seemed to take two steps back. He didn’t want any of those things.

We told our friends and family about his diagnosis and many took it as fact. We did get comments like, “Maybe they are wrong. I have seen him play with my kids,” or “Are you sure? He’s just so cute.” I never really understood some of the comments we got, but I chalk it up to them not really knowing what to say. It was hard talking to others because they didn’t see Fisher like I did. They would see him for little parts of random days, but were not fully immersed in his day to day life. What those I told didn’t understand is the feeling of not hearing your child tell you “I love you.” I cried many nights because I just wanted to hear this from him. Others would try and reassure me by saying “Well, at least he doesn’t say he hates you and you’re not his friend anymore for not buying him a toy at the store.” Sure, the negatives weren’t there. but neither were the positives. I had to reassure myself by his hugs and other forms of affection that he indeed loved me even though he couldn’t verbalize it.

I tried to include him in activities such as swim practice. I told the swim teacher about his diagnosis after I could see the very apparent frustration on her face when he screamed hysterically about being in the water. They even moved him down to a level with babies so he was able to succeed and move back up. At this point, they gave him a new instructor and after 6 months of what I felt was torture for my son, I took him out of swim. You see, Fisher hates certain aspects of water. When I’m running the water for a bath, he screams hysterically until it’s done and I turn it off. He hates the rain and he hates being sprayed with a water bottle at the hair salon. He hates showers. Anything where water is running or spraying is a challenge for the sensory part of his diagnosis.

The hair salon was the second place where I told a stranger about his diagnosis. His hair stylist was asking him questions and after a few moments of no answers, I would respond for him. I recognized the look of confusion on her face when a 5 year old wouldn’t speak, and I never wanted anyone to think of him as rude, but he either didn’t understand what was being said and/or he could not verbally respond with an answer that made sense. The hair stylist was so great with him and we still to this day go to her for his haircuts.

Beyond this, I never publicly announced my son’s diagnosis. What was the point? It was nobody’s business. That is, until recently. I felt like I was not telling anyone to be retaliatory in a way. If you don’t know my son, you don’t have a right to know about him. The thing of it is, the Lord was telling me something different. The Lord was pulling at my heart to share Fisher’s story. When I was doing research after his diagnosis, it was hard to find people like me. I felt like his autism was not “bad enough” to warrant any attention. He was healthy. I didn’t want people to think I was seeking attention because that is not me. But his joy – oh, the joy – THAT warrants attention and that is why I am writing this post. The Lord has blessed me and my husband tremendously through this little boy. He finds joy in life that I would not otherwise notice.

About one year before Fisher’s diagnosis, my mother passed away from her battle with breast cancer. At the funeral, my brother spoke and read Psalm 127:3-5, “Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them!” He brought up this verse because we were my mother’s arrows that she sent out into the world. I always felt close to this verse throughout our testing with Fisher because his diagnosis doesn’t change the meaning of the verse. Fisher is my arrow. I will trust the Lord as I send him out into the world and more importantly, I am blessed because of him!

Fisher may not have ‘friends’ as most other children his age do, and while this bothers me and breaks my heart, he has joy! While other kids are playing together at the park and he is by himself, acting out his most recent favorite cartoon character, I get sad, but he has joy! While other kids are playing sports and involved in other “normal kid activities,” I break down, but he shows me his joy! He may not be “normal,” but if not being normal means he gets to live a joyful life, who wants to be normal? The struggles he has are more struggles for me because, while I realize his “autism,” he doesn’t realize this about himself.

I recently started the show, Parenthood, and I have to say, I stopped watching. It hits home for many reasons, but one of the first episodes I saw was the autism storyline. My husband and I talk about it freely in front of Fisher now because he doesn’t understand, but when will the point come when he does understand his differences? Will he ever notice? Will he go to college? Will he be able to support himself one day? I don’t know these answers and, while it kills me, I will trust the Lord. I will trust Him for what He is teaching me now, and that’s to see the beauty and joy that’s very evident in my life. The beauty and joy that this little six year old has taught me. A verse that continues to bring me comfort as we walk this path with our son is 2 Corinthians 1:3-4, “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.”

SURRENDER – Turning Hopelessness Into Freedom

A friend and I were recently talking, and she said, “I don’t want to surrender, I don’t want to be weak.” You may identify with this, but the thing is, surrendering to God doesn’t make us weak, it makes us strong. Strong in the Lord, dependent on the Lord, seeing that we can do nothing apart from the Lord (John 15:5) but that in Christ we can do all things (Philippians 4:13).

Surrender is a word that Adam and Eve did not know until the Fall. They lived in peace and joy having complete trust in the Lord until Satan, the god of this world (2 Corinthians 4:4) entered. Because of Adam and Eve’s sin, we are all born into a sinful world. We are all now in a position that requires us to surrender and trust (Romans 5:12).

We reach a point in our life where we have to make a choice to seek God or to continue to follow our sinful flesh apart from God. Have you come to that moment? Do you believe that there is nothing you can do to be good enough for Christ? Have you put your trust in the truth that Jesus died on the cross for your sins, the Perfect for the imperfect, and 3 days later was resurrected from death to life, in order to bring us to God? (1 Peter 3:18) Salvation happens in a moment – Jesus saves us all at once. We are forgiven and called a child of God, and we receive an inheritance. You will never be more forgiven or loved than you are right now. Unconditionally. But freedom and sanctification work differently. Little by little.

Freedom is our choice, no one can do it for us. God sets us up, but we have to make the step in faith to lay down our self – our flesh – and align our hearts and desires with the Lord’s. He refines us and gives us everything we need. He led the Israelites to the “land of milk and honey,” but they had to go and get it for themselves. Our success doesn’t depend on our abilities as much as it depends on our obedience and trust in the Lord. The freedom comes, the promises fulfilled. When Moses led the Israelites to the Red Sea they doubted God’s protection and sovereignty (Exodus 14:14-15), but Moses tells them not to be afraid and to stand firm – that they would be delivered. Reminding them that the Lord would fight for them, they needed only to be calm. But God steps in and says, “tell them to go forward, move on,” and then He parted the Red Sea for their safe exit from the Egyptians.

In 2 Corinthians 12:9-10 Paul tells us that God’s grace is sufficient for us, and we gain power in our weakness. How does this make sense? When we rely on Him and not ourselves, we gain strength. We gain wisdom and clarity as God refines us through our weakness and hardships. God chips away, little by little, at the worldly things we are living for, our self destructive habits we have, to make us more Christ-like. Paul tells us, “to delight in weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and difficulties. For when [we are] weak, then [we are] strong.”

Matthew 5:3 says “Blessed are the poor in spirit for they will see the kingdom of God.” Poor in spirit means that we see our need for something outside of ourselves. In Luke 23:46 it says, “Jesus called out with a loud voice, ‘Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.’ When he had said this, he breathed his last.” His last words should be our first words. Obedience and surrender. How do we do that? Matthew 6:33 says, “Seek the Kingdom of God above all else, and live righteously, and he will give you everything you need.”

When our desires and heart align with His, we see our need for Him and that He has already supplied all that we need. He is already the Sovereign Creator over us and all things in our lives, but until we have the perspective to see that, we tend to think we can do it all apart from God. I am telling you this is exhausting. Juggling all those plates, anxious and fearful of what will happen if one falls. Do you feel like you just can’t do it anymore? CRY OUT TO GOD! Acknowledge God’s hand in your life and surrender to Him. Allow Him to take the reins. God allows us free will and He won’t do it until you have asked Him to in utter dependence on Him. He even gives you your breath.

He sees your tears and frustration, “You keep track of all my sorrows. You have collected all my tears in your bottle. You have recorded each one in your book” (Psalm 56:8). We cannot control people and circumstances, but we can trust HIM. HE is working things out and HE has a plan and a purpose for you. He controls everything, He can wipe out our enemies and He can bless us.

Whether you need help with your work, marriage, kids, family or health, being desperate is where God wants us. We can see him clearly when we are looking up for him. Without getting on our knees and looking up from that pit, we think we can do it all on our own, but we can’t. Surrender. Let grace flood in and let go of the control you are trying to have – it is an illusion. You can only do what you can do and you have to let God do the rest. Hopelessness can turn into freedom when we surrender. There is no situation that is hopeless to God.

“I waited patiently for the Lord;

he turned to me and heard my cry.

He lifted me out of the slimy pit,

out of the mud and mire;

he set my feet on a rock

and gave me a firm place to stand.

He put a new song in my mouth,

a hymn of praise to our God.

Many will see and fear the Lord

and put their trust in him.”
Psalm 40:1-3

God will come through. Expect great things from Him – low expectations allow failure. Don’t accept a cheap version of the good God has for you. Focus on the unseen, not the seen.

Pray your worries to God and admit you can do nothing without Christ. Take your eyes off yourself and look to your Lord and Savior, be confident in His goodness and provision. He will deliver you into a spacious place. It might look different than what you imagine, but if your heart is surrendered, you will find Him there and it will never be lonely.

We are protected, positioned, and prepared. Don’t let the enemy steal your confidence little by little. God’s promises are fulfilled through the process of surrendering. He promises we will find Him when we seek Him with all that we have (Jeremiah 29:13), but then it is up to us to deny ourselves, take up our cross daily and follow Him (Luke 9:23).

Amy Merritt