It’s Friday…but Sunday’s coming. This is phrase has been all over social media this week as we get ready to celebrate Easter the the resurrection of our Lord. This phrase has also been on my mind a lot. It is so powerful. I try to imagine what Jesus’ close friends and followers were feeling on this day – the day between His death and when He rose from the dead. I’m certain they felt a huge sense of hopelessness. They must have felt confused and perhaps even a bit lost. Fear was probably surging through them as they wondered what the last few years had been about. Confusion most likely have them questioning all that they had seen while closely following Jesus and His teachings.
Obviously, I can only speculate on the way Jesus’ friends and followers were feeling. However, I feel like being human, just like them, I can fairly make these assumptions. Thinking about this phrase, “It’s Friday…but Sunday’s coming” I understand, to some extent what that waiting feels like. Of course, I cannot fathom in on the same level by any means, but I think that there are some real parallels for me and maybe for you too!
This week for me personally has been especially troubling. I was blindsided by two events – both personally and professionally – and I feel like this week has been my Friday. (Please know that I am not in any way comparing my troubles to Jesus’ death – just drawing a parallel!) Stay with me. When faced with the uncertainty of the week’s news, I have been hit with a mix of so many emotions. Fear of the unknown, hopelessness, confusion, and questions. I’ve wondered why? I’ve asked how? I’ve spent sleepless nights tossing and turning while worry envelops me. Trying to find some peace in all of it, God has gently reminded me that He is in control. He has sweetly whispered to me to remember that Sunday is coming. He’s pulled me closer in the waiting and comforted me with the reminder of the answers that Sunday brought.
In our daily lives, we must remember His faithfulness to His promises. He did not promise a trouble free, worry free, “easy” life. However, He did promise that He is always with us. He did promise that He will never forsake us, nor will He leave us. And when Sunday came, and Jesus walked out of that tomb…well, who can argue with the fulfillment of that promise. God is with us in our waiting.
I don’t know how either of the situations of this week will turn out. I don’t have all of the answers. But I do have ONE answer and it is this. God knows it ALL and He is in it ALL. He is constant and ever-present between our Fridays and our Sundays.
While mindlessly scrolling through Facebook today, I saw a saying about God’s unconditional love. It was one of those pretty pictures will a sunrise and a fancy script saying. I honestly don’t remember what the whole thing said because I couldn’t get past unconditional love. It’s been on my mind all day. Unconditional love. Without conditions. Without strings. Without hesitation. I think that I take that saying “unconditional love” for granted. I have heard it all my life about the way God loves His children. I almost think it’s one of those churchy phrases that I have listened to so many times that it has lost its power almost. But today, it hit me right in my heart house.
As mere humans, we truly can’t fathom that kind of love. Our society tosses around the word love so very flippantly and loosely that the word is almost tarnished. “Ooohhh, I LOVE your shoes!” Or how many times do we proclaim our love for an actor whom we have never met. And I promise that I have used that word when talking about ice cream (just last night as a matter of fact). But y’all, that unconditional love that comes from our Father is unmatched by anything we know here on Earth. Yes, we love our kids like our Father loves us – that is the closest we could ever come to understanding His love for us. But even then, it’s not exactly the same.
So why did it hit me today like it did? I’m not sure that I know, but I’m fairly certain that God slowed my scroll and stilled my mind long enough to get my attention. This morning I woke up still fighting my annual spring cold, feeling unrested and moderately grumpy. I did not want to get up and go to school. I even said to myself as I slovenly rolled out of bed “I don’t want to adult today. I just can’t.” I was sure that I did not have the energy needed to show up for a room full of 9 year olds. Basically, my attitude sucked. I truly didn’t think I could make it through the day, and I was mad at myself for my attitude. Maybe this is why God needed to get my attention.
His love for me – even with my ugly, early-morning grumblings – doesn’t waiver. When I’m not at my best He loves me – just as much as He does when I’m at my best. When I’m not as loving as I should be, He still loves me. When I stumble and lose my way, His love remains steadfast and strong. Why? How could He possibly STILL love me after all of my shortcomings and grumblings and doubts and fears. Because He can…Because HE IS LOVE.
There are so many worship songs that attempt to describe this love in many different ways. His love is extravagant, overwhelming, never-ending, reckless. His love never fails. It is unending. His love awakens. He loves me, this I know. And all of these songs are beautiful proclamations of our Father’s love. But I’m not sure that His unconditional love can fully be described and understood by us until we truly believe in our hearts that love is who God is. And we are His beloved. What if tomorrow we take carry that title “beloved” with us all day? How would that change the way we love others? How would our self-talk change if we started it with the name “Beloved”?
I’m so thankful for a God who listens to my heart when I don’t even know the words for what I need. I’m so thankful for His nudges (and at times, smack upside my head) to slow down and find Him at my center. Most of all, I am so thankful for His unconditional love.
I feel like I need to say something. Writing is how I process the world around me – and wow do I need to do some serious processing. I have sat down at my computer at least 8 times in the last 24 hours to share and express my feelings. And each time I completely deleted the nonsense that I had typed. I just can’t even come close to finding any words to make sense of what is happening. Can anyone make sense of any of it?
This is no way meant to be any type of political post. I am not one to share my viewpoints on politics – not because I don’t have any…but because quite often I can’t aptly express my viewpoints. (And because I hate confrontation and arguing and it seems that for many adults these days, that’s all they know. Gone are the days of healthy, productive debates.)
No, this post is not about me trying to decipher where we have ended up as a country – as human beings. This is about me just processing all that is going on inside of my head and heart. Y’all I am heartbroken. I am sad for our country and I am sad for our citizens. I am sad that I have to look into the eyes of a room full of 9 year olds and try to explain why grown adults behave in such horrid ways. I am sad that my adult children are completely disillusioned by our world, when they should be beyond excited and full of promise for the lives they are beginning.
I look at pictures (I did NOT watch the news broadcasts at all – I just couldn’t) – images of hate and anger between human beings – between fellow Americans, and I am sad. I know that I keep repeating that word, but I cannot find another way to share my heart. I hurt for all of the hate in the world.
Y’all – we need Jesus. Just Jesus. We need to love like he loved. We need to be His hands and feet in the midst of all the brokenness. We should be sharing His good news with people who are in such desperate need. And here’s the thing… we need to stop seeing SIDES – this group, that group, them, us, red, blue, black, white – and start seeing people. Jesus died for us ALL. He loves us all. Those climbing the walls and breaking the glass. Those defending building from intruders. Those inside conducting the business of the country. And yes, those spewing evil and hate in the crowds. HE LOVES US ALL.
Anybody else struggle each morning deciding what to wear? Standing in the closet and staring at the same clothes has become part of my morning ritual. Not sure if I think the choices will be different from one morning to the next….like some magical closet fairy will come in and replace my old boring choices with new, exciting ones overnight! Making a decision about what to put on in the morning is just one of thousands of choices we have to make in any given day. One of the most important ones, though, is the choice to love.
We have five children. Our oldest is engaged to be married in a few months – and while we still guide him and coach him through life, he is out living his life and making his own choices. Our oldest daughter will be 20 soon, and is pretty much in the same boat. She goes to school full time and works, and the way that we parent her has shifted to more of a guiding role. Our youngest three – all girls – are still very much in the need-to-be-parented stage. Two of the three are teenagers. And let me just say that they are very good at it. Some mornings, I get an eye roll before I have even spoken. We love all of our children unfailingly and unconditionally. But some days…well some days, they are hard to like. Some days their words can hurt. Some days their lack of words can hurt. These are the days that require us to put on love.
“Above all, put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity” Colossians 3: 14. Paul doesn’t simply tell us to love. He knows that sometimes loving others must be an active, conscious choice that we make. And sometimes, that choice is hard. Sometimes that choice feels impossible. This is why he instructs us to put love on. To make the decision to love another – even when the alternative choice might be easier. God has been working on my heart in a big way when it comes to this kind of love. Specifically when it comes to raising our teenage girls. Putting on love means that I don’t always have to “win” the argument. I don’t always have to have the last word in a situation. For me it means that I humble myself and put on love – even when I am hurt. God is showing me how to love them through all of the spats and hormones and moods – to make the choice to love even when it feels so hard.
Here’s the thing, I cannot love like this on my own. This ability to put on love, in spite of what I might be feeling in the moment, comes from above. Jesus was the perfect example of this kind of love. He is my pattern and He is my strength when I just can’t do it on my own. The choice is mine, but the love comes from Him.
Last night, I let myself get super aggravated and frustrated about a situation. Nothing wrong with that – we all have feelings and emotions. How I attempted to handle my hurt and anger, however, is the problem. I ranted and cried and allowed my emotions to be hijacked by this one thing! And then I came down to my office and vomited it all into a blog post. To be published this morning. On Christmas Eve. Although I knew all the negativity of the post was coming from this situation, I convinced myself that I needed to post it. I justified it because I have always claimed I want my blog to be authentic and not just a highlight reel of my life. That’s how I rationalized the ugly spewing of hurt into a Christmas Eve blog post.
This morning, I woke to the kindness of a hot cup of coffee waiting for me on my nightstand! I proceeded to come down to my office and opened up my morning devotional. Yep – a devotional about kindness and how we treat others. Okay God, I’m listening. Through my study time and subsequent prayer time, God performed a serious heart check on me. The line in my devotional that I’m certain I needed to hear today was “...take those thoughts captive. You can turn down the grumbles and turn up the grace. Speak these words aloud – even a whisper will do – while you hold that person in your heart. ‘The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ be with your spirit'” Rather than moan and groan and grumble about the way in which I was hurt, I am to capture those thoughts and pray for the person who hurt me. Hold them in my heart even! And here’s the thing, there is not room in my heart for bitterness AND people for whom I am praying. Not to mention the fact that MY bitterness about the thing was not affecting this other person, it was only tainting me!
Thank you Jesus for opening my ears and my heart this morning and allowing me to hear from you. I am taking the negative thoughts captive, praying about the situation and saying a prayer of peace and grace for the other person. I am so thankful that God continues to work on me – every day. As the line from one of my favorite worship songs says…”He’s the artist and the potter, I’m the canvas and the clay.”
What kind of tree are you? I heard this analogy on the radio just the other day and it has stuck with me. The question has been lingering in my mind for days. I think that there is a reason that certain things stay with us and others don’t. I believe that God places things on us to create teachable moments for us. He. knows what I need and where my heart is, and it is no accident this metaphor is still with me. What kind of tree are you? When someone bumps into you (tree), what kind of fruit falls? I’ll wait while that sinks in…..
When the weight of life becomes crushing. When heartache breaks you. When anxiety paralyzes you. When isolation cripples your soul. How do you respond?
Honestly, let me make it a little less “heavy”…. When someone cuts you off in traffic (do I even remember how to drive?) When your text goes unread. When you are left out of a group gathering. When you get your feelings hurt. How do you respond?
Yep, I got my toes stepped on by this one. I had to do a serious heart check as I pondered this question. What kind of fruit do I bear? When times get hard, I do not always respond the way that I would like to. Anxiety and fear cause emotions and reactions to come out sideways. The fruit that falls from my tree when I’m shaken is not always good fruit. Initially, my reaction to all of this was to beat myself up and wish that I could just “be better.” I did the whole self-loathing thing for a minute, held a pity party for one, and then I quit. I left the party. I will never be perfect. Not. Even. Close. But I can strive each day to become more Christ-like. I can pray and ask and allow the Holy Spirit to produce those fruits in me. I can seek Him first in all that I do. I can fall down and get back up again, knowing that He still loves me and that no matter how many times I stumble, He STILL loves me.
I will always remember this tree metaphor. And when I am “bumped” I will think about what kind of fruit falls.