Category Archives: grief

late bloomer: obedience, not comparison, defines success

Posted on by June 17, 2026

Middle of June. Leaves are full on the trees, the sky is blue, and the deck is covered in pots of dirt with various green things sprouting. Unless you know your plants, most of them aren’t even identifiable yet.

late bloomer: obedience, not comparison, defines success

So when my best buddy in the States sent me photos of her glorious peonies in full bloom, it was a sign of things to come. Hers look like this:

And ours currently look like this:

Do you SEE how gorgeous ours are?

Of course not. You can’t even tell what color they’ll be. (Light pink. Here.)

But it’s not time for them yet, because this is Alaska. Spring lasts for about two weeks, summer gets a late start, and peonies don’t bloom here until July. If you have anything impressive in your garden this early, you probably bought starts from a nursery.

I shared this photo online last week with a scripture verse, and if you’ve read about some odd reactions I’ve gotten to those, let me assure you that at least the comment I got on this one was probably well meaning and wasn’t from a religious weirdo (I don’t think so, at least):

The comment was, “I feel sorry for your houseplant.”

My initial thought was, What houseplant? This is a photo of my desk. But then I looked again, and oh yes, there’s that little snake plant on the floor that has taken forever to grow from cuttings I got from a friend.

It does look sort of pathetic in the photo, but it wasn’t the focus of the post. In reality it looks almost as pathetic has five shoots that have grown up from the dirt, and only two of them show in the picture.

This plant is a slow grower and doesn’t like full sun. So it sits in the corner by my desk and quietly endures judgement and pity from strangers online, listening to Einaudi with me while I write.

But it’s doing its thing; it doesn’t need anyone’s pity.

It doesn’t edit, doesn’t create graphics, doesn’t check email or answer phone calls for me. But it’s not meant to do any of those things. It’s meant to sit there and grow, and there’s no deadline or competition.

It is doing what it’s meant to do, and minding its own business.

Or, can we rephrase that, and say it’s obeying its calling? Because it is.

Out of my distress I called on the Lord;
the Lord answered me and set me in a broad place.
With the Lord on my side I do not fear.
What can mortals do to me?
The Lord is on my side to help me;
I shall look in triumph on those who hate me.
It is better to take refuge in the Lord
than to put confidence in mortals.

— Psalm 118:5-8

Lots of things (and people) look funny while they’re growing, and deal with the ignorant judgment from others who only take a quick look and have no idea what the full story is.

For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all, training us to renounce impiety and worldly passions and in the present age to live lives that are self-controlled, upright, and godly, while we wait for the blessed hope and the manifestation of the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ.

— Titus 2:11-13

It reminded me of a conversation I had at church last weekend, when someone asked me if I ever wondered about what other people thought of my special needs kids, and why they’re not healed.

And yeah, I have thought that. Vince and I have been in and led prayer ministry for years, and I have no doubt people have looked at us and wondered if we were really qualified to lead or minister or pray for healing because some of our kids’ issues have been super obvious.

But what’s not obvious is where our kids came from, or what they’ve been through, or how far they’ve come. In our local church, only two other people have seen our journey from the beginning.

How many times have we judged others when we had no idea how many hurdles they’ve already overcome?

How many times have we judged ourselves or others for not doing things that we’re not even meant to do? For not looking like everyone else? For not having the same timeline? For having a different starting line and growing season?

He it is who gave himself for us that he might redeem us from all iniquity and purify for himself a people of his own who are zealous for good deeds.

— Titus 2:14

We are not all organic heirloom seeds, planted in perfect loamy soil with a long head start in spring, watered on a scheduled timer.

Some of us are just doing the best we can in the clay and the climate we were planted in. We don’t have as much time, and halfway through the year it still looks like we just started.

But if you are obeying in that, it is enough.

We have this horrible habit of setting expectations and rushing timelines that have nothing to do with what God calls us to.

There are glad songs of victory in the tents of the righteous:
“The right hand of the Lord does valiantly.”

— Psalm 118:15

So here, a word for the one who is looking at their progress and wondering why there’s still so little to show for it:

Your early growth doesn’t define your success. Don’t let someone else’s greenhouse beginning diminish your efforts from seed.

It’s not a competition until we try to make it one, and when we do, everyone loses. It’s better to just refuse that game, mind our own business, and obey in our own calling.

Your friend’s Pacific Northwest climate doesn’t diminish your Alaskan rate of growth. So don’t judge your June growth by your August expectations; you’ll know what color you are soon enough.

You are allowed to be the late bloomer. The dark horse. The sleeper whom no one expects, and then wakes with a roar.

avoidance: the cost of drag, & how we defeat it

Posted on by June 12, 2026

Before we worked from home together, Vin commuted to Anchorage and was gone about 60 hours a week. For most of those years he drove a small pickup. It’s Alaska; everyone has a pickup here.

Handy things they are, except for when it comes to highway mileage. A pickup has a tailgate and a bed, and unless you have a canopy or cover on it – we didn’t – you get drag.

avoidance: the cost of drag, and how we defeat it | Shannon Guerra at Copperlight Wood

Resistance. Opposition to forward motion. You spend more gas trying to get where you’re going just because that truck bed and tailgate are cupping the wind at highway speed.

For years, people told us we should get a commuter car. We knew we should, too, but buying a new vehicle and selling an old one is a pain. Those were desperate days, too much going on, who needs one more thing to do?

So we avoided the change and stuck with the little pickup until January of 2014, when Vin rolled it on the highway during a snowstorm, totaling it.

Then we had no choice: A commuter car it was. And you know what we started saving in gas?

Five hundred dollars a month.

We knew it would make a difference, but we had no idea it was costing us that much. What could we have done with an extra $6000 a year, for those six years?

What else is our avoidance (stubbornness, laziness, resistance, denial, or any other drag) costing us?

Here’s the big question that might save you a ton of time, money, emotional investment, and other resources:

What am I ignoring or putting off that will actually be for my overwhelming good?

Sometimes lost things are found when we let go.

Our days are no longer desperate like they were then. Or, maybe they are, but in different ways: The kids are calmer, but our scope is broader, there’s no steady paycheck, and our schedule is often out the window because our work is way different and almost always changing.

I’m still a writer, but I’m only at the desk one or two days a week lately. It feels weird. And what’s weirder is even with such limited time, I have days when I don’t want to write.

Those days make me wonder if I still am who I was, or if I lost something. Did I drop my calling? Why is it so hard to shift back and forth sometimes? Am I walking in neglect or disobedience? Or am I just tired? (Stupid question. Don’t answer that.)

A single day of feeling supremely off kilter can make me wonder all those things, because I am fragile and human.

That’s the wrong kind of wonder to have. It’s drag, and it’s far more expensive than commuting to Anchorage in a little pickup, because if not caught it leads to brooding, which in turn often leads to all sorts of leading questions and bad conclusions.

The cost is high because it’s our identity and vision at stake.

So here, too, is where we ask: What am I ignoring or putting off that will actually be for my overwhelming good?

And in this case, the answer (for me, at least) is pretty much the same every time: Abiding. 1

If I were abiding in this situation, I wouldn’t be doing the wrong kind of wondering. I wouldn’t be questioning my calling or ability, wondering if I lost it or if it was just a long season that’s over.

I’d have real answers, instead. I’d have peace and grace for the day, instead of anxiety and discouragement.

When I finally confront the issue head on, rather than avoiding it for days on end, striving and struggling needlessly in angst, it takes a whopping five seconds of concentrated abiding to realize what’s going on.

Be honest, Shannon. Ask the question. Put it into words and confess it.

So I do, and it’s another finally-suddenly moment, because that’s when I hear the answer.

You haven’t dropped or lost or neglected anything, Love. But you are not always meant to tell and translate. You also need to soak and receive.

Oh. Duh. Well, that sounds so obvious.

But I’ve gotten so used to the feeling of pressure that I didn’t even recognize it. This happens with all sorts of mindsets, and they become like refrigerator noise in the background of our lives that we don’t even hear anymore.

So listen: What is the noise you’ve been ignoring, or that you’ve gotten used to? We can’t deal with it until we identify it.

When I let go of the pressure to write, that’s often when a torrent of words rush out. Onto the screen, in my phone memo, on any scrap of paper I can find.

Like I said earlier, sometimes lost things are found when we let go.

Oh, that’s where I am. That’s the me that thrives the way You made me to – because I finally looked for where You are in this. I missed the forest for the trees, but You were here all along.

To be fair to myself and honest with you, I can abide in all sorts of things while avoiding the main issue I really need to talk to the Lord about.

I think it’s a common ploy of intercessors; we can procrastinate and distract ourselves by praying for a million other things, and still feel pretty good about our abiding. A friend of ours who led worship for years said it’s the same on that side of the coin, too: If he didn’t want to deal with something, he would worship, instead.

Isn’t it funny how we can use righteous things to avoid becoming more righteous?

And isn’t God gracious to still meet us in our avoidance, and wait for our honesty? Even our ability to face things is grace from Him.

It would be nice to have more grace and peace, though, and get back on track faster.

May grace and peace be yours in abundance in the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.

– 2 Peter 1:2

We tend to overuse and gloss over those terms. What do they really mean in the messy situations we’re dealing with?

Grace and peace look like solutions, resolution, revelation, and certainty. They look like security in our identity, steadiness in our calling, and boldness in our obedience.

May those things be yours and mine in abundance. And may we cooperate with receiving them, because God’s generally not going to force them on us while we’re ignoring the issue He wants to address.

To defeat the drag and make forward progress, we’ll need to sell the truck, make the move, call the person, spend the money, ask the question, admit our weakness, acknowledge the problem, confess the sin, set the boundary, etcetera, etcetera. It could be anything. It’s probably on your mind as you’re reading this.

Anyway, whatever it is, if we’re not willing to do it because we’d rather feel the drag against our tailgate (ahem), then He’s generally not going to force that particular answer upon us.

Good news, though: He’s made us for the answer. He knows how weak, exhausted, angry, wounded, confused, overwhelmed, or whatever we are that seems like it’s holding us back.

Seriously, He knows how whatever you are. And He did all the heavy lifting to make us like Him:

His divine power has given us everything needed for life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and excellence.

Thus he has given us, through these things, his precious and very great promises, so that through them you may escape from the corruption that is in the world because of lust and may become participants of the divine nature.

– 2 Peter 1:3-4

You and I cannot participate in the divine nature if we neglect to abide. Abiding is the participation: This is how we know, hear, act, and become more like Him.

It’s how Peter, who wrote those words, went from being an impulsive loudmouth you probably wouldn’t want speaking at your funeral to becoming an older and wiser heavyweight who could handle the spotlight. Both versions were forces to be reckoned with, but only one was fully surrendered and thus able to lead others in that same transformation.

So we don’t want to waste gas, too focused on the problem to do anything to actually solve it.

If we’re putting off abiding – or any other prompting of the Holy Spirit – we’re not changing anything for the better.

Such a bummer. I’m so sorry.

What can we do, then?

First, if this rings a bell, we need to acknowledge our avoidance and confess it. It’s not a huge, drawn out thing. It’s a reality check, and it’s instant: “Yep, I’ve been doing that.”

Then there are several things we can do. But to work smarter and not harder, the best first thing is to ask God: What do I need to do now? And then do it.

I know, the best time to do it would’ve been a long time ago. But the next best time is now.

And one more question to ask Him: How do You want me to see this situation? Because we want to see it the way He does. He’s not discouraged or dismayed over this. He’s not overwhelmed, overwrought, or doing the wrong kind of wondering.

When we’re looking at Him and seeing things the way He does, we see possibilities instead of limits. We stop partnering with fear, agreeing with the enemy, making blanket statements and accusations and assumptions. We stop doing the things that make it worse, and start doing the things that make it better.

Bemoaning that the enemy is winning in different areas or how we feel like we are losing in other areas is a poor strategy for defeating him. It’s a total drag, wasting our resources.

But quick cooperation with His promptings brings momentum. Obedience to God is spiritual warfare. And this is how we win.

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P.S. We’ve had a big change at our house, and we’ve also got a big prayer and provision need. Here’s our monthly update.

P.P.S. Our pastor gave a great message here that relates to this topic (starts at 1:09). Bonus: Vin is in a couple of dangerous aggressive super awkward sermon illustrations. 😅

  1. Often for me, writing IS abiding. Journaling, praying, all the thoughts going on paper or screen…I’m talking to and with Him more than anyone else. But after years of writing as vocation and ministry, writing is also work, and there’s the struggle. Maybe there’s a post on that coming soon. ↩︎

trust: where we linger to find joy & wisdom

Posted on by May 6, 2026

I spent the last part of April going slowly through Philippians. Not only did this help me remember how to spell “Philippians” (notice: one L, two Ps in the middle) but it also landed me in chapter 4 for three days, which is about 1% of the time I really need to spend there.

Some chapters in life, in books, in the Word, demand us to linger.

trust: where we linger to find joy & wisdom

Philippians 4 is one of my favorites. But this time when I got toward the end of it, I argued a little with God…or, not really with God, but with my old self — my old understandings, old lies, old mentalities that have nothing to do with God, but I used to attribute them to Him. And He caught me doing it again.

We’ve been working on this for a while. And the struggle is actually progress because it means I’m no longer resistant or blind to it, but letting Him transform me.

Here’s the verse I was stuck on:

And my God will fully satisfy every need of yours according to his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

— Philippians 4:19

A few things we have to ask right away: Is this verse in context? Sort of — it’s not to us (it’s to the Philippians, of course). But it is for us, demonstrating God’s unchanging character. What is it telling us? He is good. He is generous. He cares for all of His people, not just the Philippians.

So can we take this as a promise for Him? Yes.

Unless you have an old poverty mentality that rears its head and makes excuses. I did, and it did.

Our home’s heating system needs replaced and we don’t know how it will be covered, but we are trusting the Lord. He knows how it will happen, and on most days I’m not even trying to rack my brain to figure it out anymore. The good news is a) we made it through the winter, and b) now that it’s spring, we can keep the system off as much as possible. But it needs taken care of in the next four months.

When I read that verse, though, an old response popped up in my head: Maybe God doesn’t think replacing our heating system is a need.

Is that dumb? (Answer: yes.) Of course our heating system is a need; we live in Alaska. Even if we didn’t live here, it would be a need.

But the thoughts continued: What if we’re not even supposed to keep this house? We’ve been thinking of moving. Maybe God wants us to make less on the sale of this house, so we have to downsize into something smaller, uglier, boxier, with less land, gross carpet, and an obnoxious neighbor…

It sounds like the Old Responsible Religious voice, but if you listen closely you pick up on the accent and notice the snake’s hiss — the one that says God is not really as good as He says He is, and that He cannot be believed or trusted. Did God really say…?

And this is where the Lord caught me, and confronted me.

He also asked questions, and His questions are different:

Does that sound like it reflects My goodness? No.

Do those thoughts ignite fear, or trust? Fear, for sure.

Do those thoughts lead you in hope, peace, and expectation? Or do they lead you toward striving? Ahhh, striving…give me all the things to do, all the numbers to calculate, all the details to fret over. Been there, hated that, lit the ground on fire with that hamster wheel, and broke the axle.

When I realized the difference, the weight lifted. God is going to take care of this. We don’t have to figure it out; we can trust Him. He will fully satisfy every need of ours, including this one. The other thoughts had started pressing me downward in anxiety, but His correction lifted me in hope and clarity.

Did you forget you are My beloved, Love? Sit with Me, and remember.

When lies are replaced with trust, the clouds lift, the sun comes out, the air clears, and anxiety dissipates.

I could practically hear the sniveling whine as the snake scurried away, defeated at the old game he used to beat me at.

Many of us tend to default toward believing negative lies about God rather than the truth of His goodness and love for us. For some of us, the lies make us feel safe, protected from disappointment, or that we’re suffering enough to be righteous.

Sometimes, the lies are just a bad habit that needs to break.

One of the hardest adjustments during my grandma’s first month in her new home is that since she moved, she believes she is alone and people hardly ever come to see her.

It’s not true; there are always people with her and almost every day she has visitors.

But she does not remember the people, or the visits. And since she doesn’t remember them, she believes they aren’t happening. Gahhh. So instead of believing the truth (which would encourage her), she defaulted in those first weeks to believing what is negative and untrue.

Here’s the irony: She knows she is forgetting, that her mind plays tricks on her. So since she will believe something one way or the other, can we help her default instead toward the positive, lovely, and loving? We’re trying, because it’s what’s true. Even if you don’t remember, we’re here every day with you. You are so loved. We haven’t abandoned you, you’re not alone. You’re never alone. Sit with me, and remember.

When she knows she’s loved and not forgotten, she is happier, chattier, and she shares stories and dry humor. But when she thinks she’s been left desolate, she’s miserable, withdrawn, bitter, accusatory, and complaining.

This is true of us, too. When we think God has abandoned us, doesn’t care, doesn’t think our needs are important, we are tormented. But when we know we are loved, thought of, and tenderly cared for, we are much happier — and we move forward productively rather than stalling out in brooding anxiety or despair.

If the enemy can discourage us into fear, striving, or other forms of negativity, we walk in confusion and miss not only God’s goodness but also His direction and clarity. Or, let’s put those together and use the word wisdom.

Direction + clarity = wisdom. Good so far?

Now this:

The wisdom He gives us is related to our level of joy and trust. They go together, but trust drives the bus.

Happy are those who make the Lord their trust,
who do not turn to the proud, to those who go astray after false gods.

— Psalm 40:4

For the Lord God is a sun and shield;
he bestows favor and honor.

No good thing does the Lord withhold from those who walk uprightly.

O Lord of hosts, happy is everyone who trusts in you.

— Psalm 84:11-12

The goodness of God is the lay of the land, and we need to know how to read the map. Trust is the key to understanding the legend, knowing which way is north, and recognizing pitfalls.

Happy are those who find wisdom and those who get understanding,
for her income is better than silver and her revenue better than gold.

— Proverbs 3:13-14

Those who are attentive to a matter will prosper,
and happy are those who trust in the Lord.

— Proverbs 16:20

We can surrender anxiety because He is good. Because we can trust Him. Because He is better than all our old lies, excuses, mindsets, bad teachings, bad memories, and internal and external accusations.

I will bless the Lord at all times; his praise shall continually be in my mouth.

My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad.

O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt his name together.

— Psalm 34:1-3

Our thoughts and responses to God should be magnifying Him, not minimizing Him. There is a huge religious movement out there that’s all about minimizing Him and making it seem humble and righteous. (Spoiler: It’s not.)

Without trust we walk in fear while deluding ourselves that it’s jaded wisdom. It’s the same fear that buries the talent because we’re afraid to risk, afraid to fail, afraid to be seen as imperfect, afraid to fall because we know we’re not really able to catch ourselves, no matter how much of a front we put up for everyone to see.

I sought the Lord, and he answered me and delivered me from all my fears.

Look to him, and be radiant, so your faces shall never be ashamed.

— Psalm 34:4-5

We don’t want to be like little kids who really want to go to somewhere but in our restless impatience we make the wait miserable, asking our parents over and over and over if we’re going, when we’re going, why we’re not going yet, and then we sulk in the driveway, kicking rocks until one of them flies into the windshield.

We often delay the answer we want so badly because our distrust is sabotaging the journey.

But when we stop listening to the lies and keep our eyes on who He really is, what He really does, what He’s really said, we know that we can trust His goodness and His timing. He not only meets our every need, but also covers us with peace and joy in the meantime.

This leads us right back to the beginning of Philippians 4, and we linger here:

Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, Rejoice.
Let your gentleness be known to everyone.

(It is hard to be gentle when you’re freaked out and striving.)

The Lord is near.

( He is aware, and not indifferent.)

Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God.

And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

— Philippians 4:4-7

We linger in these places of trust, knowing He is doing something in us as we wait: The pages we read, the honest conversations we have, the prayers that sometimes aren’t even articulated words so much as they are attention to the living Word who was and is and is to come.

We usually don’t see the immediate effect of these but the transaction of our time invested in faith accrues to our good, and the good of those around us. This, too, is part of trust. We know there is purpose in what He is leading us to do.

So we believe the things unseen, that He working things out for us and in us, and He is able to do what we are so very aware we cannot do on our own. The wild idea began in Him; He knows how to complete it.

And if we forget, He will sit with us until we remember.

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