Dear God, How Could You?

Dear God,

How could you allow a searing hatred to destroy your people? I don’t understand…

People praying.

Your children talking to you. Your sons and daughters who could have been out to eat or watching TV or spending time with their families…………………..but instead were at church.

Because they love you.

Is this the reward for devotion?

How does this fit against a backdrop of perfect love?

Where were you?

What were you doing?

What will people think about you?

Even those of us who love you with our whole selves ask through hot tears and aching souls…

How could you?

I was there.  

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me, your rod and your staff, they comfort me. Psalm 23:4

Be assured, I was there.

In God, whose word I praise,
    in the Lord, whose word I praise—
 in God I trust and am not afraid.
    What can man do to me? Psalm 56:10-11

And I heard.

In my distress I called to the Lord;
    I cried to my God for help.
From his temple he heard my voice;
    my cry came before him, into his ears. Psalm 18:6

BUT WHY?

I know you don’t understand.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts…

neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. Isaiah 55:8

People sing "We Shall Overcome" during a service at Morris Brown AME Church June 18, 2015 in Charleston, South Carolina. US police on Thursday arrested a 21-year-old white gunman suspected of killing nine people at a prayer meeting in one of the nation's oldest black churches in Charleston, an attack being probed as a hate crime. The shooting at the Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in the southeastern US city was one of the worst attacks on a place of worship in the country in recent years, and comes at a time of lingering racial tensions. AFP PHOTO/BRENDAN SMIALOWSKIBRENDAN SMIALOWSKI/AFP/Getty Images

“As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:9

But what about our hurting souls?

Know this…

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants. Psalm 116:15

I have caught every tear.

    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

And I have things under control.

God is just: He will pay back trouble to those who trouble you and give relief to you who are troubled… 2 Thessalonians 1:6-7

Let me be clear….I more than have things under control……..I am working good.

And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose. Romans 8:28

John says in 1 John 3:15 that if we harbor hatred in our hearts, we are murderers. Exactly the same as a young man who sits in a prayer meeting and then murders its participants. The same. The very same.

That’s not okay.

That’s not okay at all.

What You Don’t Know about the Woman on the Beach

I am often afraid. Like “a belly on simmer” afraid. It’s not uncommon for me to awaken from a dream with fuzzy edges, blanketed in disquiet.

Even in the last days of 41, sometimes my skin doesn’t fit. It wears like a borrowed jacket.

And it’s a heavy endeavor to believe that good lies ahead after a season of tempest.

Expensive hope.

Dangerous faith.  

They arrest me and pretend to hug while strangling. With a smile. They often stalk my solitude and prey on silence.

So, naturally, they stowed away in the side pocket of my duffel for a writing weekend. With a suitcase full of books, provisions for days, and all the beach accouterment, I didn’t notice the extra weight.

While most of my time was coated in a tranquil hush, pierced only by rowdy sunrises…



There were instances of lonely unease. Because the quiet that makes room for focus and wonder can be hijacked by lies. Have you been that hostage?

So I took a walk. To breathe fresh air and to feed wonder and to wet my toes and to watch dusk steal the remains of the day, and this happened.




And just like that, the God of the universe had an audible voice.

I forgot to get her name. To ask where she was from. And then a week later, a dear friend sent me a link to the following blog post. “I’m pretty sure it’s about you!” she said.


The Woman on the Beach

Trevor and I arrived on Saturday to the beach for a week alone. It had been an absolutely awful, stressful week. Stressful to the point where I wondered why I hadn’t had an anxiety attack yet. After an afternoon of getting our groceries together and settling into our home for the week, we decided to take a walk down the beach. We walked and talked for a while, then I said that we should sit. So Trevor picked out the perfect spot on a dune, up away from the water and the wet sand. We sat and we talked while the coastal breeze blew our hair all over the place. We talked about how much we miss our kids and all the things they’d love here (because isn’t that pretty much all parents do on vacation alone??). Then we took a selfie- because we did.

As we were sitting on our dune, talking, this woman sat down in front of us. She was far enough away, that I couldn’t see anything about her, aside from the fact that she was a “she” and was sitting facing the ocean. As Trevor and I talked, I couldn’t stop glancing over at her. Before long, I realized that she was crying. Every now and then, she’d grab her own sleeve and wipe her face. Then and there, an intense need grew in me- I had to talk to this woman. Beyond what I could have ever drummed up on my own, I knew God was prompting me to say something to her. I had to tell her. I immediately told Trevor “we have to talk to her.” He had the reaction typical of a sane person and said “what?!!” I told him “she’s crying. I am supposed to talk to her.” He sat there, obviously about to offer up an excuse, when she stood up. And I jumped. Instead of making an excuse to stay seated and comfortable like I would almost always do, I pursued this person, step after step, a woman compelled. I said “ma’am??” she glanced and kept walking (poor girl, probably thought I was nuts). Then I said “Ma’am??” again and she stopped. I said, “I know this is weird, but I just had to tell you that you are not alone. God is with you in this.” I told her the very words that filled my head and that I knew were for her. Her face just exploded in a smile and she said, “that is so cool!” and laughed. Then she said “So I take it you’re a believer?” I said “yes, I am.” Then she told us, “ I am called to ministry. I was just sitting here- I am writing an online bible study for the fall- and I just said ‘God, please just speak to me.’ That is so cool,” she laughed, as tears welled up in her eyes, and I knew that right then, I did exactly what I was supposed to do. Thank you, Jesus, that I didn’t ignore that still small voice and the forceful push of a God that loves me, you and that woman crying on the beach. Our God is huge. He is amazing. And his attention to detail blows my mind. Never doubt that you can be a part of something bigger than yourself.

He is real.

And affectionate. Personal. And powerful. I know the supernatural seems crazy flaky. I know that you question God’s character. But there IS a loving God. Who has been so misrepresented by…………………………us. There has been a time – in ministry – when I gave up on Him. When I railed against Him through gritted teeth and squinted eyes.


Because I believed the lies that hijack the quiet.


And when I crumbled in a heap under the weight of it, He filled the vacuum of my despair with His compassion. He whispered in my ear…


I love you in the ditch, Cookie, as much as I ever have.

Because you’re mine.

I’m here.

I never left.


This is relationship. Not religion.


He is not distant. Aloof. Angry. Or formal.

We are in real danger of being so bound by what we can see and hear and taste and touch at the expense of what we can’t. For all my tall wedge-wearing, seventeen bangle-sporting, sassy mouth, all-put-together garbage, I’m a wobbly, scared farm girl whose only strength, integrity, and confidence is borrowed from my God.

The relationship more real to me than any I’ve experienced with people wearing skin.

How have you experienced His nearness in your life lately?


The God who made the world and everything in it—He is Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in shrines made by hands.  Neither is He served by human hands, as though He needed anything, since He Himself gives everyone life and breath and all things. From one man He has made every nationality to live over the whole earth and has determined their appointed times and the boundaries of where they live. He did this so they might seek God, and perhaps they might reach out and find Him, though He is not far from each one of us.

Acts 17:24-27 (HCSB)


Epilogue: Jessica and I connected on her blog and are now friends on social media.


#WhosYourDaddy


[Title Image: Amarit Opassetthakul]

Mind the Gap: All Christians Are Not Created Equal

The cell was rank with the acrid stench of urine; a searing spear of blinding torment pierced both temples. Bile rocketed up his throat as he swallowed hard to force it back down. A single tear escaped the corner of his eye; he swiftly wiped it into his hairline. Head down, facing the concrete floor, he silently mouthed, “God, I need you….please help me….please save me….”

_____

She bit the side of her cheek as she thought through what she should do. The goldfish in her belly plunged and soared as an audience went wild in the splash zone. She hadn’t expected to feel nervous. Or afraid. She could hear the dull drone of the mower which meant her daddy was home now. Mom was wiping up a glob of butter from the kitchen floor as she entered. She would just blurt it; that’s what she would do. Ready…ready…set….ready………..”MamaIjustaskedJesusintomyheart.”

_____

Why am I crying? Why the hell am I crying? Oh my God, I’m sorry. I’m cussing in church, I’m crying, I’m standing up and all of these people are looking at me. God, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry for all that I’ve ever done. These people don’t know what I’ve done. They have no idea, God, but I don’t want to live this way anymore. I want to be different, God. Please help me be different….please forgive me…..I am so sorry, God…..I want to follow you……I want to do better…….I want to be better…….I want to be a good person…..

_____

Are all three equally in right relationship with God? I say yes. Are all three completely forgiven? Yes again. Going to heaven? Yep. According to Scripture, are all three new? Yes. Second Corinthians 5:17 says so. Do all three still retain unhealed wounds at this transaction? Sadly, yes.

Because new doesn’t mean whole.

New doesn’t mean well.

And new doesn’t mean healed.

In my brain, it’s kind of like a heart transplant. At the conclusion of the surgery, the patient has a new heart. No one disputes that. And this gives him life when death had been his prognosis. But as they wheel him from the OR, is he whole again? Well, healed, and ready to grab dinner with the fam? No. There’s a grueling road ahead. And a lifetime of anti-rejection meds. The threat of the immune system attacking the new organ will require constant watchfulness. Forever.

So. Can we, as the Church, just acknowledge this to folks new to the faith?

Hey, you got a new heart and with that comes new life, but there also may be a grueling road ahead. A lifetime of anti-rejection efforts. Those hurts you brought into this…….they still hurt. That sexual abuse, that addiction, that divorce, that loss, that abortion – those things still hurt even after you begin a relationship with Jesus. Even when they aren’t inflamed and raw to the touch, they’ll still be weak places until they are healed in every way and in every realm of personhood: emotionally, relationally, spiritually, mentally, and physically. Jesus is completely able to heal you, but it’s going to require hard work on your part. And until those places are healed, they’re like land mines that may go unnoticed…even by you. Unnoticed while you lift your hands in worship. Unnoticed while you dress for church. Unnoticed when you pass the offering basket. Unnoticed when you pack the family into the minivan for Sunday lunch. Unnoticed…until your faith fails and you have an enemy that knows all the right buttons to push.

Can we just look eye-to-eye with a new believer and with the grace and compassion of Jesus admit, “The hurts still hurt, and they can’t go unattended”? So folks new to faith don’t feel like failures when the old crap isn’t gone. So they don’t give up on Jesus because they think He didn’t work. Or give up on themselves as Christians because they think they can’t do it.

Can we stop dumping everybody into the saved bucket and stop acting like everybody’s equal once they meet Jesus? We are equal recipients of grace and salvation, but our journeys with Jesus are more affected by what happened BEFORE we met Him than we are acknowledging.

  • Annually, more than 100,000 US parents experience the death of a child.
  • 40-50% of first marriages end in divorce.
  • 27% of children live in single parent homes.
  • 18% of US women have been raped during their lifetime.
  • Approximately 1 in 6 boys and 1 in 4 girls are sexually abused before the age of 18.

People are bringing a lot of garbage to their relationship with Jesus; this paltry list is but a thumbnail of the comprehensive hurt around us. Is Jesus able to heal? YES! No one believes that more than I do. But, can we as believers stop using the Parable of the Sower to tell hurting people to just be good dirt? When believers lose against their former battles, can we stop watching them walk out the back door and stop labeling them as uncommitted? Maybe today – at this point in society and at this time in history – the whole idea of loving our neighbors as ourselves means helping them remove some thorns and weeds. Getting dirty. Speaking Truth. And administering a lil’ anti-rejection meds…

[feature image: raghavvidya]

What if There Is Purpose in Your Pain?

“Our stories — as busted up as they are — are our ministries. They are written with the ink of our strongest affections. Our hurt is never arbitrary. It’s only rendered ineffective by our silence and our inaction, when we hold our stories tight-fisted and allow them to atrophy from disuse.”

I would love for you to head over to newspring.cc  to read the rest of the article I had the opportunity to write on the primary purposes for our pain.

Thanks for reading, friends!


What Do Target and Easter Have in Common?

Easter at Target

I heart Target. It soothes me.

And costs me.

I love the wide spaces and somehow it’s always quiet even at busy times. It’s organized and colorful and just right. I especially enjoy a shopping trip around 9:00 pm. The aisles are empty and my buggy isn’t.

I hold my breath as I drive into the checkout lane. Because it’s always painful. I squint in dreadful anticipation as the cashier totals my purchase.

On a couple of occasions, I’ve unloaded all of my wares, pulled my cart up to the cash register and FREAKED OUT. I had taken my debit card out of my purse and left it in the car. Or my purse had been stolen and I forgot that all my cards had been cancelled. For whatever reason I didn’t have a way to pay.

And that’s what Easter’s all about.

Pulling up to check out with a basket full of stuff we can’t pay for.

You tracking? Stick with me and I’ll unpack it…

To do so, we’re going to venture into my favorite verses about Easter which are not even found in the books that record the events of Easter. The English teacher in me spazzes at the backstory. The symbolism. The richness and perfection of God’s plan causes every part of me that is Type A and creative and organized and symmetrical to just gush.

As we break it down, we’re gonna need some common lingo. Let’s all define sin the same way. Sin is anything that creates separation between us and God.

dominus flevit

descent into jerusalem from the mount of olives.

  • When Adam and Eve messed it up for all of us (thanks, guys!), sin entered the world and so did death (Romans 5:12). They faced the consequences for their choice and those consequences have been passed on to us (our rotten choices always affect other people too, right?).
  • The payment for sin is death (Romans 6:23). So, in God’s economy, I have to die to pay for my lying, my envy, my greed, my disobedience. Geez, that’s heavy.
  • In fact, blood has to literally be shed to pay for our bad choices (Hebrews 9:22). Blood is the cash for sin’s payment. It is the coin of forgiveness.
  • In the Old Testament, God established a sacrificial system where animal blood was offered to pay for the sin of God’s people (Leviticus 16). This was totally the most masterful foreshadowing ever because it really was just a picture for them of what Jesus would do for humanity when He came. God really is the best storyteller ever.

Leviticus 17:11 – This is because the life of the body is in the blood, and I have given you rules for pouring that blood on the altar to remove your sins so you will belong to the Lord. It is the blood that removes the sins, because it is life (NCV).

  • When God’s people were enslaved in Egypt, God chose blood again as the currency of their freedom (Exodus 12). Because the Egyptian pharaoh refused to free God’s people, God struck down the firstborn animals and people of the whole land but instructed each Israelite family to sacrifice a perfect lamb and paint their doorframe with its blood. As the Lord allowed the Egyptians to reap their destruction, He “passed over” every home marked with lamb’s blood. That was the sign that they belonged to Him. So they were saved. And they were free.
  • And then – a really long time later – Jesus arrived on the scene. Fully God. Fully man. And He lived a sinless life. He was tempted in every way you and I are (Hebrews 4:15), but He never caved as you and I do.
  • It was God’s plan that Jesus’ blood be the final payment for sin (Ephesians 1:7). So He hung on a cross and ALL the sins of the world – past, present, and future – were put on Him. He definitely paid it forward. So we no longer sprinkle animal blood as a sign of how sorry we are for our sins (whew!). Jesus’ blood was the cash for our sin’s payment. His blood is the coin for our forgiveness. So we are saved. And we are free.
  • And when we belong to Him, His blood is metaphorically painted on our doorframes – making His blood the currency of our freedom.

1 Corinthians 5:7 – …For Christ, our Passover lamb, has been sacrificed.

  • And while ALL of our sins were put on Jesus on the cross, ALL of His goodness and perfection before God was put on us (2 Corinthians 5:21). Crazy, I know.
  • So when God looks down on believers, He sees Jesus’ perfection instead of our sin. THANK GOODNESS!
  • When God looks down on those who don’t have a relationship with Jesus, He still sees sin that requires payment. Like the cashier before me needing to be paid.
  • And the payment for sin is death. Full circle. Spiritual death is forever and ever being separated from God. And that’s why being a good person doesn’t get you to heaven. Because the payment for sin isn’t good deeds. That would be like trying to check out at Target with euros. It’s not the right method of payment. The payment for sin is death. Jesus’.
IMG_3615

the garden of gethsemane.

And that’s why Jesus had to die.

So we wouldn’t have to.

It’s the greatest expression of love in all of history or time. He knows every crappy thing about me and dotes on me anyway. He knows how to love me perfectly; He treats me to the grandest surprises and sweetest indulgences. He is MORE real to me than any relationship I enjoy with a person wearing skin, and nothing would delight me more than to spend every last day I have left telling others about how stinkin’ fabulous He is.

I’ve been angry and I’ve been wayward and I’ve had doubts and questions, and I’ve had tantrums, but He is unchanged by my cattywompus spiritual mood swings. He is real and He is THE best thing going. Happy Easter, friends!

empty tomb

the empty tomb.

To hear more about how it is that I am so crazy about this Jesus, check out this post. And if you want to know more about how to begin a relationship with Him, shoot me a message on our contact form

“To some, the image of a pale body glimmering on a dark night whispers of defeat. What good is a God who does not control his Son’s suffering? But another sound can be heard: the shout of a God crying out to human beings, “I LOVE YOU.” Love was compressed for all history in that lonely figure on the cross, who said that he could call down angels at any moment on a rescue mission, but chose not to – because of us. At Calvary, God accepted his own unbreakable terms of justice.” – Philip Yancey

[Feature Image: Amanda Tipton]