Category Archives: peace

know who you’re dealing with: the Kingdom’s response to insecurity

Posted on by September 1, 2023

When I come here to write to you, I often don’t know exactly what I’m going to say. I usually have a bunch of notes (sometimes way too many) and a theme (also, sometimes too many), and the first step is to do some sorting. Then fleshing out. And then refining.

It’s not a clean, pretty process. It usually involves some wailing and gnashing of teeth, a little yelling at the laptop, and lots of prayer and coffee.

know who you're dealing with: the Kingdom's response to insecurity

Today I’m looking at a document of 2418 words and counting. That’s usually too long for a post, so I have it separated into two themes (hence, two posts), and here I am, writing the intro to one of those posts at the top of the document. So far, so good.

But there’s a ton of shuffling and rearranging to do. A lot of truth to find, and some unnecessary content to sift out. Figuring out what I’m really dealing with and what He really wants to say through me can be quite an ordeal.

And as we mature and grow in the Lord, this is what He does with us, too – because life is a journey of learning who (and Who) we’re dealing with.

(Side note: Yes, I know grammatically it should be “whom” but that sounds dorky and when I wrote a chapter on this in Oh My Soul, I intentionally used the more familiar phrasing rather than the stuffy-sounding correct version. So that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.)

As I was saying, there’s a lot about the writing process that reflects God’s work in us. And sometimes the stuffiest among (amongst?) us need the most work. Sometimes we’re so consumed with being right that we forget He is our righteousness.

For example, often when pastors or writers talk about God’s goodness, they feel the need to point out they’re not preaching a prosperity gospel. They don’t want to be seen as “those people.” But why does insecurity drive us to such defensiveness and finger pointing? Why do we need to qualify or apologize for God’s goodness? If we really understood how much God loved us, and we felt secure in that love (that is, knew Who and who we’re dealing with), we wouldn’t act out of such insecurity.

Sometimes God’s people can be the biggest accusers, and the most ungentle. When we don’t know our identity we confuse ourselves with God and act like the devil, judging and accusing everyone around us. But at the same time, we’re afraid to be on the receiving end of either of those, so we try to nip it in the bud by saying we shouldn’t be lumped in with “those people” – whoever “those people” are.

It’s an easy trap to fall into when critical thoughts are the loudest in our minds, whether they’re directed at ourselves or others. Those thoughts take the veil that was torn and carefully sew it back up, keeping that intrusive, all-seeing light safely on the other side so we don’t feel exposed. Stay over there. Don’t get too close, I don’t want you to really see me.

But if we really understood how much God loved us, we wouldn’t act out of insecurity. We wouldn’t need to build up our ego or protect our fragile facades; we would know that God already sees and knows, and we would walk in the ways of the One who did not revile when reviled because He knew He had nothing to prove. This is a big reason why we’re told not to cast our pearls before swine…because sometimes people act like swine when they don’t know their identity yet.

It’s easy to find those who are secure in their identity: They’re the ones who aren’t being defensive, even when accused by the brethren. (And who is the accuser of the brethren? Not someone we should be emulating or partnering with.)

If the enemy can convince us that other people in God’s family are our enemies and we are manipulated into treating each other that way, we forget who the real enemy is. We walk with a veil over our eyes, misdirecting our attack at each other instead of at the real enemy, and we end up doing his work.

The righteousness of our culture is at stake, not because we go around shaking our fingers at others (or ourselves) in condemnation, but because when we hear and share His words, we are pointing our finger toward the One who saved us. When we do that, we are poking holes in the canopy and light pours through, pressing into dark areas that have been filled with pain. Clouds disperse, answers and clarity start emerging. This is the security of Kingdom culture.

In the Bible, Jesus was constantly poking holes in those shrouds of insecurity, and He didn’t do it in the most predictable ways, either. Let’s look:

And Jesus went away from there and withdrew to the district of Tyre and Sidon. And behold, a Canaanite woman from that region came out and was crying, “Have mercy on me, O Lord, Son of David; my daughter is severely oppressed by a demon.” But he did not answer her a word.

And his disciples came and begged him, saying, “Send her away, for she is crying out after us.”

He answered, “I was sent only to the lost sheep of the house of Israel.”

– Matthew 15:21-24

Notice two things here: First, Jesus is answering the disciples, not the woman. Second, He’s not doing what they told Him to do.

They want Him to send her away – Look, Lord, this woman is making a scene and she shouldn’t even be talking to you – and He quietly poses the conflict to them, and you see the parallel of the Great Commission here: We start in Judea, then Samaria, and then to the ends of the earth. It was less about class and more about proximity and identity, because there is no favoritism with God.

Also, keep in mind that this passage comes immediately after His teaching on what really defiles a person: It’s not what goes in (like culturally acceptable food and traditions) but what comes out of the heart.

“But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person. But to eat with unwashed hands does not defile anyone.”

– Matthew 15:18-20

So Jesus doesn’t send her away, and she comes closer in verse 25:

But she came and knelt before him, saying, “Lord, help me.”

And then Jesus does something He’s really good at doing, which is defying cultural expectations. He speaks to her. And here’s what He says in verse 26:

And he answered, “It is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the dogs.”

Okay, wait wait wait – I know you’re reading this and thinking, Wow, harsh and rude. It does sound that way. I’ve read some terrible commentaries that even declare that this is Jesus “putting the woman in her place” even though that is inconsistent with Scripture and it flies in the face of both the rest of this passage and His ministry.

Look at what is juxtaposed here: Jesus is speaking to her, while repeating the cultural attitudes that He and the woman were both familiar with. I don’t think He was calling her a dog – I think He was challenging the cultural attitudes, and testing her to see if she believed them. This is what the world says about you. Do you follow the world, or do you believe in Me? Do you know Who (and who) you’re dealing with?

With that in mind, His tone sounds like He’s quoting a common saying and He wants to see what her response is to it.

She passes that test beautifully:

She said, “Yes, Lord, yet even the dogs eat the crumbs that fall from their masters’ table.” Then Jesus answered her, “O woman, great is your faith! Be it done for you as you desire.” And her daughter was healed instantly.

– Matthew 15:27-28

He does it again. Defying cultural expectations, He praises her, and then rewards her. There are only a handful of times in the New Testament when we see Jesus astonished at someone’s faith, and this is one of them.

Similar to when He asked Peter “But who do you say that I am?” Jesus is asking her, Do you believe Me, or the world we’re living in? Which viewpoint do you value most? And she responds with faith in His goodness in spite of norms and common errors, and she knew He had abundance. She knew He wasn’t limited to cultural traditions and insecurities, and that she didn’t have to be, either.

Her story would have turned out differently if she had believed what was trendy. If she thought less of herself, or if she had thought less of Him, or if she was afraid to make a scene, or she was insecure about what other people might think, her daughter would have remained in torment. And she would’ve lived beneath her identity, too.

But she knew who, and Who, she was dealing with. She wasn’t intimidated by wagging fingers and condescending judgment of those around her…and we shouldn’t be, either.

His proximity burns off chaff, in us and in others: the clique-y ladies in church, the young man who always seems grumpy, the girl who comes off a little too strong in her opinions, the kid who holds back in smiling and emanates awkwardness…and even the woman who sits at the computer and wrestles with how her words will be understood by her readers.

The veil is close and we don’t even recognize these things about us half the time. The other half of the time, we know there’s something smothering us but we can’t quite identify what it is or why we do it or how to fix it.

But the Lord knows the roots behind these, and He knows how to heal and resolve them. We don’t have to strive and scour the depths of the unknown to fix ourselves.

We just need to be in proximity to the fire so He can do His work – and we can bring that fire for others in gentle power (which is what meekness is) and know He’s bringing healing and wholeness to our communities as we do it.

handle with care: the Kingdom’s response to grief & pain

Posted on by August 24, 2023

I walked down the hallway this morning toward the meeting room where we have weekly prayer. My friend whose husband died last Saturday was there, already being hugged by another friend, so I waited my turn. We prayed for her, and rejoiced for him – I’ve mentioned him to you before – and then we moved on to interceding for our church, community, nation, and world.

handle with care: the Kingdom's response to grief and pain

The world needs intercession. Maybe that’s why we’re noticing more alarms; there’s smoke everywhere. Something is definitely spiking in the atmosphere. More warfare, more attack – but also, more coming together, more standing back to back. More hugging and generosity. More looking out for each other. And we need to look out for each other.

One of my friends is losing her hair and facing hard choices about cancer treatment, and another is on alert for wildfire evacuations while her husband recovers from a chainsaw accident. We have close friends dealing with extreme financial hardship and health challenges. All around, we are fragile and broken, healing and raw, on edge and in His hands, because there’s no other place to run for safety.

In our family, we got Kavanagh’s cast off last week just in time for more medical appointments for Andrey as we navigate the medical merry-go-round of specialists with varying degrees of knowing what they are doing, and equally varying degrees of how much they charge for their particular blend of experimentation and expertise.

So far, we know there’s a CT scan and then a surgery coming up. We are praying for healing and expecting mighty things, while simultaneously calling down fire upon the racket of Big Pharma and looking for the right ENT specialist. Someone who doesn’t charge $1200 an hour to those who pay out of pocket would be greeeeeat.

Also, since I’m giving you the big family update, guardianship proceedings are coming up – we finished the courses, and the first round of paperwork goes to the Palmer Courthouse this week. And my heart is…better…I’m pretty sure it’s better, at least…about it.

One of the things that helped was, shockingly, the courses themselves. While most guardianship cases in Alaska seem to be for elderly people who need assistance, there was one case study that sounded a lot like both Andrey and Reagan. Even better, the mother in that case also felt frustrated at the need to go through a legal process (because, GAHHHH) just to simply keep caring for her child as she had been doing all along, which has been my main beef, too. But in a move that shows the government can do a few things right (grin) even the state of Alaska acknowledges those valid feelings, and explained the need for guardianship in a way that was gentle and on the family’s side. Repeatedly, they described how this is a delicate process.

And suddenly I felt the relief of not having to plow new ground. I am so tired of plowing new ground. Here, finally, I saw that someone has walked this path who wears shoes like mine, and the trail has already been somewhat cleared. A weight lifted off me.

We are fragile, broken and healing. We all need to be handled with care.

Walking gently is imperative right now, because the bull in the china shop doesn’t have eyes or ears to recognize the needs around them. These are days to move cautiously and deliberately; it’s hard to cultivate sensitivity and discernment about the times without a little stillness.

“I did not send the prophets, yet they ran; I did not speak to them, yet they prophesied.

But if they had stood in my council, then they would have proclaimed my words to my people, and they would have turned them from their evil way, and from the evil of their deeds.”

– Jeremiah 23:21-22

This is why we listen for His words and then pray for boldness to share them in the ways He has gifted and positioned us. It’s easy to make excuses when we’re hurting and grieving, but those things don’t let us off the hook of praying and abiding. You know what happens when we pray and abide? He tells us stuff. And often, He tell us to share about it.

Let me make a huge understatement: The Church hasn’t always been great at this.

The Church is filled with people who really aren’t familiar with the love of God, and it’s shown by how we puff ourselves up at the expense of each other. Love builds up, but knowledge puffs up – and we already know that wounded and hurting people tend to wound and hurt other people. But Kingdom culture changes that, because in Kingdom culture, we abide and surrender. Rather than festering inward, those wounds and pain draw us outward and give us wisdom to recognize similar wounds and pain in others. Oh friend, I recognize those shoes you’re wearing. They look like mine, too.

When we are tender and fragile, we naturally lean toward the friend who wields words and truth gently, who holds wisdom humbly because they won it through pain without allowing bitterness to fester. A heart that is ready to be comforted runs to the friend who carries compassion forged through experience.

– Risk the Ocean: An Adoptive Mom’s Memoir on Sinking and Sanctification

Have you ever broken something, fixed it, and then broke it again because you weren’t careful with it? We used to have a baby gate like this – actually, we’ve had a million things like this, but the baby gate is a strong memory because we had to teach our kids to use it gently. If it was treated with respect, it worked perfectly to keep our toddler from trespassing upstairs. But if someone just swung it open or slammed it shut, it would break again.

Because things are more fragile where they’ve already been fractured. We are, too.

So we are walking in more weakness, but also more strength. We are abiding and watchful, listening and interceding. Pain and hardship haven’t won the day; God has and is continuing to take everything the enemy throws at us and turning it for our good, for His glory.

For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

– 2 Corinthians 12:10

We are wiser and healthier. More strategic, more mature. Less prone to falling for the lies and manipulations of the enemy. Less likely to act out in puffing insecurity toward those around us who are also hurting, and more equipped to create an atmosphere of healing.

We can know things for ourselves but still need to hear them from others. We can encourage each other with truth and fight each other’s darkness, but still need others to shine that truth into us on the days that fall pitch black. We stumble and get our hands and knees in the mud, and a fellow traveler says, Here, I’ll hold your lantern for you while you get back up again. There you are. Bravely now, onward.

– Risk the Ocean: An Adoptive Mom’s Memoir on Sinking and Sanctification

We’re not looking down on those dealing with affliction and darkness because we remember our own pain and fumbling. Grief is not a competition.

But when we allow the Lord to use it to make us more like Him – the One who was acquainted with grief – it is a qualifier.

The wisdom and maturity wrought from it empowers us to lead others back into wholeness. Our brokenness helps break the path ahead, and plow the ground for others. And as we go there, we are bringing the culture with us.

if you’ve been walking on eggshells: a kindling post

Posted on by August 11, 2023

This photo of an omelette-in-progress is brought to you by strategic camera placement so as to avoid showing all the grungus on the stove top.

if you've been walking on eggshells: a kindling post

Is that okay, though? Showing a snapshot of one thing to conceal another? Or should I just zoom out and show you everything in the kitchen?

I think it’s okay to share snapshots as long as we’re honest about life. The internet isn’t a safe place to invite criticism because critics find so many flaws with honest expression, anyway.

Armchair quarterbacks online give advice to professional photographers about lighting, mistaking natural lighting for flash. People who claim to be Christian lecture, “You can’t ask God to make heaven on earth” even though He literally said Matthew 6:10. And of course, there are those who will ask why you hate and oppress chickens (or quail) by cooking eggs.

People are weird, man.

But most of us are at least a respectable, kind, sane level of weird.

So how do we share in peace? How do we express ourselves transparently in a way that protects us and still doesn’t compromise honesty by pretending to be something we’re not?

Because here’s the thing: Even that carefully angled photo of the omelette isn’t perfect. I can find plenty to critique — the eggs aren’t really whipped, there’s a lot of gross egg white, the green onions are clumped in places and not perfectly scattered.

But did any of you really care about that, if you even noticed? Probably not. You’re probably too busy being your own worst critic to notice the things I would criticize myself over.

Everyone has enough hard stuff to deal with. We don’t have to contribute to someone’s discouragement. We can be those who stoke flames of joy and enthusiasm and inspiration and humor rather than those who say, “Wellll, those quail will make a lot of poop. Yep, lots of poop, and butchering is no fun at all. I remember when [insert depressing story of chicken being prepared for dinner 70 years ago] and we’ll just see how you like having birds when that time comes.” (Actual conversation I’ve had.)

We don’t need that. There’s enough work to be done in front of each of us and enough bravery we’re each having to fight for to not waste time taking the dampers seriously. We will be stokers of joy, truth, and encouragement instead.

No, it’s not all sunshine and roses, and yes, speaking truth in love isn’t always warm and fuzzy. But we can protect an atmosphere of transparency by not covering everyone’s light with a wet blanket.

We have to keep the fire going. How else will we have enough heat to cook omelettes with?

A fool takes no pleasure in understanding,

but only in expressing his opinion.

The words of a man’s mouth are deep waters;

the fountain of wisdom is a bubbling brook.

— Proverbs 18:2&4

But also, unless it’s obvious (like the weirdo on the internet), we shouldn’t assume others are judging or criticizing us, either.

For example, that person who seemed annoyed with you probably wasn’t. The person who looked at you funny wasn’t judging you. The person who answered you with a short tone of voice wasn’t angry at you.

They probably had other things on their mind: pain, or distraction, or stress, or insecurities, or memories of trauma. Their response was not about you; it had nothing to do with you…except that the Lord trusted you to be in the other end of their response so you would pray for them.

So pray for them.

Call out the gold and intercede for their healing and victory, and make the experience mean something. You get to partner with God in destroying the works of the enemy. You’ll feel better, and the burden of the disturbing interaction will be lifted.

And one more thing, if you’ve been feeling stifled or kept small in the presence of others:

You don’t have to dismiss your feelings, grief, outrage, circumstances, etc, just because they don’t seem as big or important as someone else’s.

Don’t dismiss your progress that seems so much smaller than someone else’s, either.

Comparison will kill your love for God and your love for people.

When Peter saw him, he said to Jesus, “Lord, what about this man?” Jesus said to him, “If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!”

— John 21:21-22

One sunset does not look at the sunset from the night before and think, “Oh, I’m not really setting very well, my colors aren’t as bright as last night’s sunset.”

And today’s sunrise didn’t think, “Yesterday’s colors were so much more vibrant, I must not really be rising.”

Your experience stands on its own. Beloved, stop comparing it to those around you. Jesus knows and He sees, and you don’t have to prove anything. Moving through our situations is much smoother when we don’t complicate them with other people’s situations.

For what man knows the things of a man except the spirit of the man which is in him? Even so no one knows the things of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, that we might know the things that have been freely given to us by God.

— 1 Corinthians 2:11-12

Lord, give us wisdom with difficult people. And help us not to be difficult people.

We come against hair-splitting, nitpicking, determined-to-be-offended-ness in Jesus’ name. We come against the religious spirit that walks in fear and insecurity, and we ask for wisdom to know how to handle that kind of immaturity in others. If there’s any remnant of it in us, root it out of us.

Help us to walk in love, and to walk with good boundaries. We don’t have to correct everyone, especially strangers, and we don’t have to come under the condemnation of weirdos on the internet. We can let it go, and let You do the speaking. We will abide and wait for the right response, and trust You when the right response is to make no response.

Protect our families and our hearts this weekend. Thank You for healing, growth, and freedom.

Let love be genuine. Abhor what is evil; hold fast to what is good. Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor.

— Romans 12:9-10

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