Category Archives: prayer

courage for those in dread & resignation [part 1]: a kindling post

Posted on by May 8, 2023
courage for those in dread and resignation (part 1): a kindling post

This was a couple weeks ago. See the snow? It’s not bad. In early winter it’s beautiful and exciting, but by April and May it’s sort of a drag. Not terrible though, we can live with it.

We can endure. If we had to, we could live with it as long as necessary.

Hang onto that thought because here’s a word for some of you:

You are enduring something right now that is lasting longer than it ought to. It is less than God’s perfect design for you.

A lot of people are going through that actually, but here’s where it gets specific:

You know what it takes to make the snow melt, but you’ve resigned yourself to perpetual winter because it doesn’t seem as bad as the cost of obedience.

Is that you? Be brave and keep reading. Resist the urge to hit the X and close this. There’s sunshine ahead, and no condemnation. Just conviction, but it comes with freedom, and relief, and the glory of summer.

You’ve decided to settle and endure because it seems more comfortable or safe than what the Lord asked you to do, as the vessel He flows through. And what is very dangerous about that is your heart is becoming cold and numb to hearing Him as you’ve continued to lean on reasons that justify disobedience.

Friend…you are denying spring. There is so much progress in front of you, and beauty, and warmth, and joy. You don’t want to miss out on them. They are worth the cost. His smile over you is worth the cost. His hand of protection over you is worth the cost.

We think we can just endure, but in His mercy He will drive us back to Him because the winter will become unbearable. It’s a natural consequence; our disobedience moves us out from under the hand of His protection. He didn’t remove it — we did. And we may think we can handle snow and cold temperatures for several more months, but that’s not we’ll get. We’re not signing up for the status quo. We’re signing up for 40 below zero and hurricane force winds. Not at first, of course, but if we persist in stubbornness, they are coming.

So friend, if you know what you’ve disobeyed in, confess it right now. Jesus, I’m sorry for _____. And then take your first step of obedience back in that direction, right now, even if it’s only praying, “Lord, help me remember to ___________ in the morning.”

And if you don’t know what it is but you have a vague suspicion you’ve grown numb in some area, ask Him right now: Lord, reveal again what You want me to hear and do. I’m sorry for disobeying and I want to hear You again. Then listen. Be willing to hear the thing you don’t want to hear — even the thing you realize you’re dreading — and surrender it. It may not be the thing He’s leading you to do, but even if it is, it’s far better than perpetual winter.

But don’t go digging around your soul with a garden trowel, determined to find something. Let Him do the work; it’s your job to listen if He reveals something, and then obey.

That thing that’s triggering fear isn’t really the threat you think it is. It’s pushing your buttons and making you feel vulnerable in unexpected ways, but you are safe, loved, and secure.

Look at the root of why it’s alarming you. That will show you the real issue at hand that you probably need to process and pray about. The thing you’ve been fearing is just a puffed up version of that, blown out of proportion, as the enemy has tried to play havoc on your thoughts and weak spots.

Don’t give into him. What’s the truth?

You have the mind of Christ. You have been blessed with every spiritual blessing. You are seated with Christ. You are more than a conqueror.

You hear that? You are the one striking fear into the enemy. Do not let him bluff you into believing it’s the other way around.

Now to Him who is able to keep you from stumbling, And to present you faultless Before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy,

To God our Savior, Who alone is wise, Be glory and majesty, Dominion and power, Both now and forever. Amen.

— Jude 24-25

That thing you’ve been dreading might actually end up being a huge step forward for you. It might actually be a huge relief.

So watch your attitude and refuse to waste time in dread. Pray about your concern but move forward in what God is telling you to do so you can partner with Him. Choosing to dread does the opposite; it means partnering with fear and giving it permission. Choose obedience and trust, and give God permission to move in your life instead. We have to surrender to Him to win.

Teach me your way, O Lord, and lead me on a level path because of my enemies.

Give me not up to the will of my adversaries; for false witnesses have risen against me, and they breathe out violence.

I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living!

Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!

— Psalm 27:11-14

Friend, if you are dreading the day tomorrow, or some day up ahead…He is right there, with you, ahead of you, and behind you.

If the tasks on your list seem like too much, or the kids are too much, or the people are too much, or the pain and conflict are too much, just go slow.

Watch and listen for what the Lord is up to. He wants to show you something in the overwhelm as you persevere. There’s joy and peace and certainty there as we abide.

And when we find it, we also find ourselves dreading our tomorrows less. We know we will walk in power as we go through them.

The Lord is already holding your days. You do not need to shrink back or fret. He knows and He sees you. He is walking with you, speaking to you, speaking to others on your behalf, and making a way for you.

Every time you trust Him, you protect your path forward. The snow and ice melt; your direction emerges clearly.

“Let not your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me. In my Father’s house are many rooms. If it were not so, would I have told you that I go to prepare a place for you?

And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and will take you to myself, that where I am you may be also. And you know the way to where I am going.”

Thomas said to him, “Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?”

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. If you had known me, you would have known my Father also. From now on you do know him and have seen him.”

— John 14:1-7

Lord, this is Your day, and Your week, and Your agenda. You know all the things on our calendar, and all the things we don’t know about that aren’t on it yet. We give them all to you. Help us to handle each one well, with joy and peace and wisdom, refusing to dread or stress or strive. Help us hear You and abide as we move through these days, stewarding them well to expand the Kingdom. You have great plans for us, and we will fear no Monday, or Tuesday…or any other day.

Of this gospel I was made a minister according to the gift of God’s grace, which was given me by the working of his power.

To me, though I am the very least of all the saints, this grace was given, to preach to the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ, and to bring to light for everyone what is the plan of the mystery hidden for ages in God, who created all things, so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.

This was according to the eternal purpose that he has realized in Christ Jesus our Lord, in whom we have boldness and access with confidence through our faith in him.

— Ephesians 3:7-12

Need more support and encouragement with this? Part 2 comes out next week. You can sign up for it here and it will come right to your inbox, free.

Here’s the printable version of this post:

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Looking for another Kindling post? They’re right here.

groundwork: when spring seems a long time coming

Posted on by April 28, 2023

It is fully spring: the air is warm, the geese are back, and we put away all the snow gear and broke out the flip flops. Yep, it’s totally spring out there, except…no leaves yet. Not a sprig of new green anywhere. Everything’s still brown, but at least that means the snow has fully, finally receded.

Inside, almost eighty quail eggs are in the incubator in our bathroom, humming along in their little racks, waiting until hatch day in a couple weeks. And in this short, brown space between snow and summer, we’re strategizing fencing and gardening spaces outside: Do we fence the garden, or do we fence the chickens?

groundwork: when spring seems a long time coming -- Shannon Guerra

We had decided on the chickens, giving them a couple of paddock spaces to alternate between so they only destroy half the woods at a time while the other half recovers. But then we had a visitor this morning and now we’re rethinking the garden, because Peter Rabbit is back.

Grrrr. I wonder if we can just fence him…and find him a wife.

But there are other spring things, too. The boys and I planted a bunch of sunflowers and veggies in starter trays, and I’m inquiring about blue, green, and dark brown fertilized eggs so we can hatch those once the quail are done (because, #chickengoals). So yes, it is brown outside but we know other colors are coming, and we’re doing what we can to help them emerge.

Isn’t this what we do? I don’t see progress yet so give me something to do to hurry it along. Waiting is the worst. W-U-R-S-T, worst. We’re waiting for healing or income or favor or direction, and the watched pot is not boiling, the leaves are not unfurling. This season is too long, taking forever, and we have things we want to get to.

Speaking of wanting to see progress in seemingly fruitless endeavors, I’m cleaning off the counter – Legos, Sunday school artwork, the toaster, a bunch of pens and colored pencils. Some headphones. I go round and round this island finding more things that don’t belong here, putting some of them in their right places but most of them in a pile for the boys to put away because it’s all their stuff. SO MANY LEGOS. And books, and magazines, and miscellaneous treasures.

I wipe down the counter. I sit on the couch and finish my coffee. I turn back around to admire the clean kitchen island, and behold, from out of nowhere, a Lego speeder has landed on it.

How did that get there? I have no idea. Why did I bother cleaning in the first place?

What is the point? Are we making any progress, or getting anywhere?

It’s odd because we spend all summer and fall preparing for winter – storing supplies, gathering the harvest, making sure we have the essentials for a storm – but then we spend all winter dreaming of spring, and spring has to be prepared for, too. It’s this circle of learning and growing and failing and achieving, and then starting over again.

But we’re not starting all over, back at the beginning, because each time the cycle restarts, our soil is richer. We remember the things we tried last year, and how they fared (or flopped) and those considerations get added in like so much compost.

And that’s good to keep in mind because this afternoon I’m reading to the kids and this is our…(hold on, doing the math…) nineteenth year of homeschool (WHAT) and I’ve been scouring our library again for good books for 3rd and 4th grade. The books aren’t hard to find; we have a houseful of them. The problem is that I have been teaching 3rd and 4th grade to one kiddo for about that many years straight and it doesn’t feel like we’re getting anywhere. We have a similar problem with another kid who’s in her fourth year of second grade math. How many easy readers of great quality can you find, and assign over and over and over, until we’re ready for the next level? How many different second grade workbooks can we go through before the concepts finally stick enough to move on to the next grade? The answer is as long as a piece of string.

I have these two little boys though, and there’s freshness here because all the favorite old stories their siblings have read to tatters over the last nineteen years are new to them: Little House, the McGuffey readers, Paddington Bear. Finn sits next to me reading aloud as I stitch granny squares, and we go round and round and round as he strings the words together.

I have been through this book five times already and I know these stories. For almost two decades they’ve been the same words, but the kids reading them are different and I am different, too, sitting here listening to them. I just keep stitching these squares, and they are also the same thing over and over, just variations in color. The stack of squares is slowly accumulating.

We blame kids for constantly asking “Are we there yet?” but really, this is one of the mantras of adulthood. Are we making any progress when it feels like everything is still brown and bare? Are we doing this right?

Later it’s Reagan’s turn, and I wait for her to read her verse aloud. Her pauses take forever between words because she approaches each one as though it’s brand new, never been seen before, practically in a different language. And it might as well be, even though she’s been through this book twice now. There’s nothing else I can do while she’s plodding through it, because if I turn my attention away, she’s even slower.

Seconds between words. Loooong strings of seconds in this long, long verse that she’s not even halfway through. I hear the boys upstairs playing in their room, and wonder what they’re doing.

Pray for her while you wait, God says. You’re an intercessor, remember? This is what you do.

I have been praying for her for eleven years. I have prayed in circles, round and round, a lot of the same things but with slight variation. I know we’re getting somewhere, I’m just not sure where it is. It reminds me of the citrus trees in my office that I’ve been told may never bear fruit – they’re taller and taller every year, but still, no buds or blooming. I grabbed the shears yesterday and pruned them anyway, believing for the impossible and working toward it. And one of these days, maybe I’ll have lemons or limes to show you.

But sometimes the timing and progress of things starts to mess with our identity, tweaking our attention in the wrong directions. When that happens, our perspective gets out of whack as we think the slowness means things it doesn’t: I’m a bad gardener, I don’t know what I’m doing, I can’t win for losing.

We think we know who we are, but we don’t understand what God is doing with us or why He’s allowing certain events or what the delay is all about.

I am a mom. A special needs mom, a homeschooling mom, a mom of many. When the kids are doing well, I think I’m doing well. When the tomatoes and lettuce are growing, I think I’m a pretty good gardener. But when the spinach bolts or the rabbit cleans out the broccoli or a kid makes lousy choices, I’m back to looking at bare earth, and chewed branches, and I wonder when fruit is coming. I wonder if I am being the me I’m supposed to be.

So what’s going on when things still feel the same, like we’re thrown right back to the beginning?

The Lord is saying, Stop looking at the branches and the dirt, Love. Look at Me. Eyes on Me.

I am the vine, you are the branches; the one who remains in Me, and I in him bears much fruit, for apart from Me you can do nothing.

– John 15:5

So many times I have looked in the wrong direction and put my identity and value in outcomes and output, rather than remembering that I am a vessel the Spirit flows through. When I look toward where I expect fruit to be, I kink the flow. But when I look at Him, I am a conduit He surges through, irrigating infinite gardens yet unseen.

A wise friend explained it this way:

“…my heart needs to expand and firm up to carry more of God’s goodness to others…[but] He’s just pouring water through the channel and every day my heart is subtly increasing in capacity to care in ways I never imagined.”

– Katie

When we’re abiding and surrendered, here’s what the slowness really means: While we are waiting and preparing, He is preparing us. We are becoming more able, more equipped, more filled.

But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light.

— 1 Peter 1:9

Our reach is deeper and wider. We’re not just stitching in rounds, but in fractals. He is doing the work in us for expansion.

We do not make blankets, we make stitches…but the stitches make blankets, when you stick it out long enough. We look ahead to harvests, and different colors of eggs, and hutches full of quail. All these things, still unseen.

Now faith is the certainty of things hoped for, a proof of things not seen….And without faith it is impossible to please Him, for the one who comes to God must believe that He exists, and that He proves to be One who rewards those who seek Him.

– Hebrews 11:1, 6

We prepare for warmth in winter by making granny squares in spring. And in all of our preparing, He is preparing us.

We know what’s coming. The testimony of every year declares itself when spring unfurls, leaves bursting out everywhere, and we see how He’s shown up and brought victory.

Are we there yet? No, maybe not. But He hasn’t left us going around in circles on a flat plane. We are going in spirals, upward.

storm in a teacup: a call for humble unity in the Church

Posted on by April 24, 2024

We’ve discovered a new love around here: Kid’s coffee. It’s not really coffee – it’s dark herbal tea with a splash of milk – but it looks like coffee and our little guys love it.

Another thing they love is straws. Paper straws, plastic straws, striped straws, spotted straws. But it doesn’t matter how many kinds you offer, you can’t always please a four-year-old.

“No, not that one,” Kav said. “I want my whiskey straw.”

“Your what?!” He doesn’t even know what whiskey is. And no, he can’t read the Irish cookbook yet and I guarantee you he’s never heard of Irish coffee.

“That one!” he pointed. “My whiskey straw!” And there, across the counter, was his green plastic straw, the one that curls around and around…like a whisk.

Ohhhh. It’s not a whiskey straw, it’s a whisk-y straw. Got it.

storm in a teacup: a call for humble unity in the Church

Let’s just hope he doesn’t mention it in his Sunday school class, right? I can just see him walking down the hallway on the way to class with his brother, talking about their red and green whisk-y straws that they got in their goody bags from church last Christmas. Snort. All we need is a visitor overhearing that conversation, and all heck would break loose.

(“Martha! Did you heeear what they gave the children at the church down the road? Ohhh, my goodness gracious…”)

There’s a lot of talk lately about persecution in the Church ramping up, even in America. And it’s true. But ironically, the Church’s biggest threat in the West isn’t from unbelievers right now. That’s on the radar for sure, but it’s still mostly down the road a little ways because that threat is preceded and prepared for by the real one – which is believers who are too quick to run with not enough information, making snap judgments and getting caught up in offense and creating division in their wake.

If a kingdom is divided against itself, that kingdom cannot stand. And if a house is divided against itself, that house will not be able to stand.

– Mark 3:24-25

What’s interesting to me about that verse is that it takes place smack in the middle of two events: The first is when Jesus was accused of using demonic power to cast out demons. The second is when He warns against blasphemy of the Holy Spirit, because the scribes did not understand what He was doing and instead of trying to find out, they had accused Him of having an unclean spirit.

This is important to pay attention to because the biggest threat to the Church is its self-inflicted wounds, primarily of legalistic groups coming against Spirit-filled Christians, organizations, leaders, and ministries. The Church needs unity but it has never found it in finger pointing and accusation, spewing hate and vitriol against anyone who challenges their self righteous comfort zone. We must walk in humility and grace toward others, knowing that we don’t know everything.

Do we want to be right, or do we want to be righteous?

Unfamiliarity breeds fear, and fear breeds dissension. Or, as a wise friend of mine put it this week:

Fear, not put into check, creates a very destructive tribalism. There are good parts of tribalism, like team work and sharing like-minded goals, upholding biblical values, etc. When done with maturity, accountability, and balance, there is good fruit. When done out of balance — check lists and qualifiers that produce a “mean girls” atmosphere, like “you can’t sit with us!” — then tribalism can turn into cannibalism. It seems to me the Church is being cannibalized from within and while that has somewhat been an issue for awhile, it has been going atomic since 2020.

— Maggie Montgomery

Do charismatic, Spirit-filled churches do weird things? Yes. Yes, we are weird…and so were those guys in the Bible. Especially Jesus. (Do you take Communion? That’s weird. Doesn’t mean it’s wrong, though.)

I am not wildly demonstrative in church – I blame this on my inability to clap in rhythm – but I remember years ago taking a younger friend to a Sunday service and she was aghast that weird people raised their hands during the singing. And this was a conservative, non-denominational church. No speaking in tongues, no healings, no deliverances, no signs and wonders, no loud prayer, no prophetic words…just slightly cringey worship music from the 90s.

It should be noted that all of those things – with the possible exception of slightly cringey music – are totally Biblical. Just because something is unfamiliar to us doesn’t mean it’s wrong. Likewise, just because the enemy has warped or counterfeited something doesn’t mean the real deal is wrong, either.

We have salt lamps in our house and some people think those are New Agey. So, okay, New Agers use salt lamps for whatever reason, but we use them because they really do clean the air (they attract water molecules and the warm salt traps particles of dust, pollen, smoke, etc) and they reduce EMF by neutralizing positive ions in the air. Salt lamps don’t have those virtues because of an evil power, but because God made those combined elements of salt and heat to do that. If we didn’t know about the science and we used salt lamps for some kind of spiritual power outside of Jesus, that’s one thing. But what about lighting a candle in the window and using it as a reminder to pray? Could that be New Agey? Um, maybe, I guess…but it doesn’t have to be.

When I post prophetic words, people could ignorantly interpret that as a Christian version of a tarot card or horoscope. Some people don’t like it; lots of people completely reject the prophetic realm. But we’re going to see the Church awake to signs and wonders like never before — the Bible warned us repeatedly of it — and the big challenge will be, will the Church have faith for it, or will they walk in fear, afraid to leave the familiar? Will they worship the systems they know instead of the One they claim to know? This has always been the question; it’s why the rich man went away from Jesus grieved. It makes me think of Luke 18:8: When the Lord returns, will He find faith in the earth?

The enemy has counterfeited so many truths that some Christians are afraid of anything that remotely smacks of the mystical or unfamiliar, but there is a lot of mystical and unfamiliar in the Bible. Just because something has been abused or counterfeited doesn’t mean the real thing has lost its validity.

But I, brothers, could not address you as spiritual people, but as people of the flesh, as infants in Christ. I fed you with milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it. And even now you are not yet ready, for you are still of the flesh. For while there is jealousy and strife among you, are you not of the flesh and behaving only in a human way?

– 1 Corinthians 2:1-3

God made science, and all truth is God’s truth. Science is catching up to a lot of truths and proving them all the time. But also, we need to stop fearing and condemning things we don’t understand. Not everything can be explained by science, and people of faith shouldn’t need it to be. And we definitely shouldn’t be too trigger-happy in condemning practices we don’t personally participate in when they’re not blatantly unbiblical.

This is how one should regard us, as servants of Christ and stewards of the mysteries of God. Moreover, it is required of stewards that they be found faithful.

But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged by you or by any human court. In fact, I do not even judge myself. For I am not aware of anything against myself, but I am not thereby acquitted. It is the Lord who judges me. Therefore do not pronounce judgment before the time, before the Lord comes, who will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purposes of the heart. Then each one will receive his commendation from God.

– 1 Corinthians 4:1-5

Here’s the nicest way I can say this: When we walk in ignorance, pride, and fear, we freak out over the dumbest stuff. And that plays right into the enemy’s hands. Church, we need to calm down and stop doing that.

I was asked this week on social media to share my position on a particular tempest in a teapot I’d never heard of, but the gist, as I discovered, was a new witch hunt against Spirit-filled churches. And for the curious, here’s my position on these types of things: I do not get involved in non-essential controversies. I don’t argue with people about Harry Potter, or The Shack, or medical marijuana. They’re such civilian matters. Whenever we are nitpicking someone else’s faith and doctrine we are putting our eyes on the wrong person.

What can you ever really know of other people’s souls – of their temptations, their opportunities, their struggles? One soul in the whole creation you do know: and it is the only one whose fate is placed in your hands. If there is a God, you are, in a sense, alone with Him. You cannot put Him off with speculations about your next door neighbours or memories of what you have read in books.

– C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity

What is the fruit of these ministries, on both sides? I have never yet met a person who has accused a Spirit-filled church or pastor of whatever they disagree about doctrinally who has actually listened to their sermons. I have only encountered people who have taken clips out of context and soundbites from anti-charismatic websites. What is the fruit, though? The fruit from most of these charismatic churches is pretty good: healings, wholeness, deliverance, people coming to know Jesus, people maturing in the Word, people obeying Him in radical ways, and beautiful communities. The fruit from these other groups is dissension, division, pride, self-righteousness, confusion, and accusation. So-called “ministries” have no ministry at all if they are doing the enemy’s work of accusing the brethren. You will know them by their fruits…and that makes this kind of situation pretty obvious.

In essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, in all things charity. That’s my position.

I think more and more will continue to come out that separates legalistic, comfort zone Church-ianity from Biblical, Spirit-filled abiding and practice. Wisdom is reserved for those who will not be tripped up by the spirit of offense. Offense and discernment are not the same thing and you will know them by their fruit.

The Lord is about to do something huge all over the place that will make the revival in Asbury look like the calm before the storm. But the enemy is frantically trying to subvert, delay, sabotage, and discourage us into thinking it’s not possible for us in this time. How do we fight back? How do we prepare the way? With unity, humility, grace, and our eyes on Jesus, not each other.

We’re not just capable of this kind of unity, we’re made for it. Do you remember the days shortly after 9/11? Here’s how Eric Metaxas describes them:

When you passed someone on the strangely empty and quiet streets, as we did, pushing our daughter in her stroller, you wondered if you were together at the end of the world. You exchanged glances that seemed to say: Yes, we are in this together. We don’t know you, but because of this tragedy we feel close to you. We are living through this together, and who knows what lies ahead?

– Eric Metaxas, If You Can Keep It

Are we ready for something like that again? Not if our favorite sport in the Church is friendly fire. But we can be. We are stewards of the mysteries of grace. We serve the One who’s already won, and we are on the same side, in this together. We just need to act like it.