Facing the Famine

I started a new Bible study this week on Ruth. There was something appealing about taking a new look at the woman who left family, friends, and home behind to follow God, not really knowing what was ahead. Maybe it just sounded familiar to me, and I maybe I just craved the ending of the story where it turns out she is exactly where she is supposed to be. Maybe, just maybe I needed that reassurance myself, to be reminded that God provides and restores and that He has a good ending in store.

The story of week one & chapter one, though, starts not with Ruth but with Naomi and starts not with hope or redemption but with famine, with the land of God’s promise and provision being replaced with a dry & thirsty land. Of course, the Promised Land had never stopped being the land of promise. God was always there and always calling His people back to Himself. But they had turned their backs on Him. Seeing only the famine and not seeing God’s promises, Naomi and her husband and their two sons pack up and move. They leave town, leave the Promised Land in search of food.

God is Jehovah-Jirah, the God who provides, but He allows the famines to come. The physical famine in Egypt that brought Joseph’s brothers there (Genesis 41 & 42), the wilderness where the Israelites lived only off quail & manna (Exodus 16), the barrenness of Hannah who desperately wanted a child (1 Samuel 1), the tremendous loss in Job’s life (Job 1 & 2), the widow’s last bit of flour and oil (1 Kings 17) – scripture is full of famines, physical, emotional, and spiritual. The famines come, times when we feel that God is distant and far away, times when we question if He has forgotten us or forsaken us, times when we don’t know what is next, when it looks and feels like the barrel is running dry.

It’s a scary place to be. I would like to be like Job who responded so gracefully, “The Lord gave and the Lord has taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord” (Job 1:21). Instead, my tendency is like Naomi and her husband’s response – let me go looking for some food, let me go searching for where God is and let me go make things happen. I like to make things happen. I am not one to whine about my circumstances. I like to fix things, to fix people, to step in and change things. It goes against my nature during a famine to “Be still and know that [He is] God” (Psalm 46:10).

For Naomi, things just got worse. Now, she is in a distant land, her husband dies, and then later her two sons die – a famine of an entirely different kind. Now, she is alone and bitter.

I’ve been in a famine. I need to admit that, really even before I moved to Texas. It sounds crazy to say that because my life has been incredibly blessed. It’s been rough, though, barren in some ways. In some ways, Texas was relief from some of that famine – relief from financial struggles and work issues. But in some ways, it led to a different kind of famine – isolation from family and friends, a lack of purpose and ministry. I left behind so much that was good in my life, people that I care about, a church and a community that felt like home. And sometimes, every once in awhile, I feel a little like Naomi – alone in a distant land and bordering on bitterness. It’s not a good place to be.

But… and I love BUTs here. But, Naomi remembers God, remembers His promises and His provision. God didn’t change. He hadn’t gone anywhere, but Naomi had gotten sidetracked by life, by the famine, by her circumstances. Then, though, she hears about God’s provision in Judah. She hears from folks at home that the famine is over, that God is providing, that there is food to eat. And immediately, she wants to be there. She wants to be back in the Promised Land and she immediately makes preparations for the journey. She remembers. She remembers (I’m imagining here) what it was like to experience God’s blessings and to live in the land flowing with milk and honey. She remembers what it felt like to be home, and she started craving it.

I fully believe one reason that God allows famines in our lives is to lead us to the place where we crave Him, where we crave His presence and His provision in our lives. Sometimes we can fill our lives with so much junk and so many distractions, and He wants us to fill our lives with Him, with His spirit, with His love. That’s what I am craving. I want more of Him and less of me. I want to be in the land of His promise and provision. I want to sense His presence and to know that I am where He has called me to be. He is the Living Water (John 4), and the One who provides a well in the desert (Genesis 21), a well that will never run dry.

The famines come, but I am so glad they are not the end of the story. In fact, the famine is only the beginning. And although Naomi returns home bitter and barren, God isn’t done with her. She is where God wants her to be and He is about to do an amazing work in her life.

Hmmm… I knew I would enjoy the story of Ruth and this Bible study. It’s definitely a message I needed to hear and needed to share. Stay tuned for more, or read ahead yourself, Ruth 1-4.

Overcoming the Pressure to Perform

Over the last couple of months, I’ve been working on a big project at work. It’s been one of my first big projects at my new job. Being a new girl, I want to impress people and to prove myself. I feel like people are watching me to see how I respond, and it is so easy to get caught up in trying to make a name for myself, not wanting to disappoint anyone and wanting to excel at my new job.
For the last couple of weeks, I have found myself feeling the pressure to perform, spending huge amounts of time on the project, working late, and starting to worrying about it. I’m usually good at leaving work at work when I go home each day, but this project started to dominate my thoughts and drain my energy,

A little over a week ago, I went to visit some of my campus partners that I am working with on this project, part of my dream team. I was flustered and chaotic, starting to freak out about everything on the to-do list and all the loose ends that had to get done. Yet, they were calm. They didn’t seem flustered. And they had much more on their plate than I had on mine. It prompted my thinking and helped me put this project back into perspective.

And then I read this book, Golf’s Sacred Journey by David Cook. I am not a golfer, and I had plans to give the book to a friend of mine. I picked it up just thinking I would give it a quick glance; I didn’t put it back down. This book was just what I needed, when I needed it. It went straight to the heart of what I had been struggling with – this pressure to perform, the fear of failure, the lack of balance and rhythm than was missing.  It reminded me to look at the bigger picture, the larger perspective of my life beyond this project and even this job. My life the last couple of weeks has been out of kilter because I had started focusing so much on this project, that I started neglecting the other good things in my life. I started valuing the opportunity to impress and make my mark instead of going about my business quietly and diligently (1 Thessalonians 4:11-12).

Yesterday, I finished reading the book, and I took some time to really ponder its message. Then I thought again about the project, a project that is outside the normal scope of my job description, a project that is outside my realm of expertise, a project that I care deeply about but not one that is directly related to my sense of calling and my particular gifts. It seems strange that I started wanting people to weigh me by this project, or that this project would somehow define me.

So I decided to relax, to take off the burden of the expectations, to do my best but to leave the anxiety behind. And I went to work, three days before the project launches, in the midst of chaos and loose ends and details to be worked out. But this time, that chaos didn’t characterize me. I had found my balance and rhythm again. I had gleaned new perspective, and I had found that peace and contentment that had been missing. I remembered that my identity is wrapped up in Christ alone. And strangely, this huge burden started to seem more like a small project, a blip on the radar screen that will all too quickly fade away.

I highly recommend the book. Even more so, I highly recommend finding that balance and rhythm in a life centered in Christ. There is no better place to be. He beckons - “Come unto 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, NIV).

Those words are good news for my week and for my soul!

The Beauty of Suffering

Lately, I have been contemplating suffering, particularly as my grandmother has gotten weaker and weaker and has been on the brink of death. It has been hard to hear her talk about being in pain, to hear of her bad days, to sense her suffering. When I went home at the beginning of the month, she was saying her goodbyes. She is wrapping up her time here on earth and preparing to go Home. My grandmother is one of the most loving and joyful people I know. There is a beauty about her spirit that just radiates love and laughter and joy. I don’t know how else to describe it. I’ve sensed that spirit about her for a long time. Over these last few weeks though it has become even more evident, something about the suffering that she is going through and the peace that she has in the midst of it is… is touching and fragrant and beautiful.  Her suffering isn’t beautiful. It’s incredibly hard at times to see her in pain and to not be able to make it better. But her suffering makes her peace even more striking, more radiant.

At church this morning, we studied the letter to the church in Smyrna (Revelation 2: 8-11). I tend to think of Revelation as this mysterious book that raises more questions than it provides answers. There is so much I don’t understand. I don’t really think of it as applying to my life, here and now. But today was different. This passage was different. It spoke right to the heart of my ponderings on suffering.  

The church in Smyrna was hard-pressed and facing all kinds of trials. They were poor; they were being persecuted by the Jews; they were falsely accused and slandered by the public; they were labeled atheists (???) because they didn’t participate in the emperor worship that was prevalent. They were suffering - physically, financially, and probably emotionally. I can imagine they were probably feeling beat down by their circumstances, frustrated and discouraged.  

Even though I have never faced that kind of persecution, I can certainly relate to those feelings of discouragement and even despair at times; I think we all can. We can find ourselves seemingly beat down by  life, wanting things to get better and looking for hope. That is what makes Jesus’ words to them stick out to me. They needed encouragement and His words spoke right to the heart of the matter.

Jesus says to this suffering church, the people right in the mix of very real trials and tribulation, “I know your afflictions and your poverty” (v 9). He says he knows the tough times they are going through. He notices. He sees. And not only that, He cares. 1 Peter 5:7 says “Cast all your cares upon Him, because He cares for you” (emphasis added). How wonderful it is that He knows our troubles, He feels our pain, He cares when we hurt! He goes on to say to them, don’t be afraid, the suffering will be intense but it won’t last forever (v 10). He then encourages them to be faithful, to continue to stand firm (v 10). He reminded them of His faithfulness and that He had already claimed the victory. He is the one who died and is now alive again. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last (v 8). He is the one that has been there from the beginning and is there now and will be there forever. What a tremendous promise, particularly when we feel alone and discouraged!

What an incredible message! Here were a people feeling beat up by life, by the world around them. And Jesus encourages them. And He encourages them as one who has been there in the midst of suffering. “And because He himself suffered when He was tempted, He is able to help those who are being tempted” (Hebrews 2:18). “For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses…” (Hebrews 4:15).

So why does God allow suffering? Why not deliver us? Why doesn’t Jesus just rescue the church in Smyrna? Why doesn’t He rescue us from the hard times? Why does my grandmother have to continue to suffer? Why doesn’t He just give us the answers we are looking for?

“…now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that your faith – of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire – may be proved genuine and may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed” (1Peter 1:6-7)

God is not calloused. He cares for us deeply. In fact, He is using the suffering and the trials in our lives for our good. He refines us like gold, to strengthen our faith, and to reveal His glory. Smyrna is also the Greek word for myrrh, the fragrant oil used for burial. The oil comes from a bark that is hard-pressed. As the bark is pressed (similar to grapes in a winepress), the fragrant oil is released. Sometimes, the hard times are what God uses to bring out the valuable fragrance in us, the fragrant aroma that bears fruit in our lives.

The fact that something beautiful and fragrant can come from suffering blows my mind, that God can use it for a greater purpose and He can be glorified in it. Then I think about the tough times in my life, and I think about the fruit that came out of those times – new love and compassion for others, new dependence on Christ, new maturity and lessons learned through the pain. As I look back now, I see the ways He redeemed the pain and the heartache, the ways He worked for good. The beauty is not the suffering but rather the beauty of God’s hand at work in the midst of it.

Please continue to pray for my grandmother and my family. Pray also for those who currently feel beat down by life, in the midst of the trials. I know several of my friends are going through difficult times. It's so hard to see the people we care about suffer. Pray also for those facing severe persecution, like the church in Smyrna. Their suffering makes the daily challenges of my life seem trivial and selfish.

The Cross-Stitch

The last two weeks have been hard. I think the excitement of the new adventure wore off a little, and I just started feeling the extreme loneliness and uncertainty and emotional rollercoaster of starting over. Somedays, I come home feeling relatively good, and then at the least little thing, I just crumble and start missing home and friends and that sense of familiarity, and then shortly after that I would pull myself together and start to get excited again about being here. It’s a rollercoaster; it has been, and it probably will be for awhile.

Several weeks ago, while putting stuff away and going through boxes and whatnot, I found an old cross-stitch pattern that I started when I was a child. My grandmother and I used to do it together when I spent my summers with her. This week, I pulled it out when I was really lonely and bored and in want of something productive to do. The pattern I had started so long ago was a little boy praying. I dusted it off and picked it up and decided to complete it for my new nephew-to-be due in June.

For those of you who may not know, I do not sew. I am not the domestic type at all and neither cooking nor sewing are on my list of fun things to do. But something appealed to me about it, so I picked it up anyway. I looked at the stitches that I had done so many years ago – they were awkward and tentative, far from tight and pretty. The underside revealed a mesh of threads, quite messy and rough. But from the front, you wouldn’t necessarily know it. The foundation was there. As I started again, it was rough going – the thread broke, or it knotted, or I didn’t follow the pattern right. The stitches aren’t even and far from perfect. But slowly and surely the picture starts to take shape, almost in spite of me and my shortcomings.

As I got into a rhythm with it, my tears dried up and my lonliness started to melt. I could sense God reminding me that even when I feel like a mess, He is arranging the stitches and working the pieces together for good, for a picture that will be beautiful in the end. Even when it’s rough and threads break and things seem like they are unraveling, it’s about staying the course and following the Guide, day by day, letting Him work and untangle and build something worthwhile.

I’m excited to finish the pattern and give it to my brother & sister in law for my nephew. It will be something little that comes with a lot of love and a good story to tell.

Please continue to pray for me. The transition is hard. I know it will get better, and I know God is at work in the midst of it. I am so thankful for wonderful friends and family, all the prayers and notes of encouragement that have made it easier. I don’t know how people make it without that kind of support.

Seven Years Ago...

Seven years ago yesterday, my life changed forever. Someone once asked me what was the biggest turning point in my life. I don’t have to think twice – March 21, 2004. What was so special about that day? It was the day I went from being a church goer to a Christ follower. It was the day I drew my line in the sand and chose to be a Christian.

The before and after in my life are so stark. Before Christ, I was bitter and broken, very much a person consumed with myself and thinking that I didn’t need anyone else. I was lonely and cut off from everyone, trying to be good enough to win my way in the world, full of pride and overwhelmingly obnoxious to be around. But something about experiencing the love of God in my life, feeling for the first time His overwhelming love for me, in spite of my failures and my fears, in spite of my selfishness and pride, something about experiencing that love in the deepest part of my soul changed me – it penetrated the depths of my soul and gave me hope for more. At that point in my life, I was good at walking away, but I knew I didn’t want to walk away from that. I realized how desperately I needed that love, how desperately I needed that forgiveness, how desperately I needed that hope.

I was scared to follow Christ. I didn’t know what He might ask of me, where He might call me to go, what He might want in return. I wasn’t so sure I could trust Him with my life, my desires, my plans for my life. But His love was bigger than my fears. If He loved me, His plans for me had to be good. This time, I wouldn’t walk away.

In the years since then, I’ve never regretted that decision. His love is even more real in my life today. I still get overwhelmed when I think about His love and provision in my life. Over the years, the bitterness and the pain that ate me up inside have been replaced by joy and peace and forgiveness. One of the great joys of my life now is community and friendships, and I can’t imagine choosing to go through life alone as I did before. God has changed me from the inside out and has truly given me abundant life and eternal life in Him. I think of the Brandon Heath song, "I'm not who I was," and I thank God that it's true in my life. His love changes everything; it changed me, forever.

Seven years… Happy anniversary, Lord!