Scripture is not one-dimensional. It includes poetry, narrative, prophecy, law, wisdom literature, and more. And each of these genres communicates differently.
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After canceling our January event, I found myself quietly asking questions I never thought I would ask: What’s next? How do I continue? Is this the end?
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When the stay-at-home orders began at the onset of COVID, the Holy Spirit used that season to take me through a year-long process that I now recognize as The Religious Detox.
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While I wait for “The End” to arrive, here are three lessons I’m carrying with me into this new year of life…
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That’s what my therapist calls it—a temporary state of nervousness or worry that shows up in specific situations. For me? It feels more like a spiritual free fall.
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Stepping away, even for a few hours, can feel like we’re leaving something unattended or worse, letting someone down.
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There are some days I’m a better wife than mom, or vice versa. Other days, ministry zaps so much out of me that I need time to recharge to be wife and mom later.
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…the ministry of reconciliation doesn’t wait until we’ve got it all figured out. It meets us mid-conversation, in our questions, in our seeking.
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And though I have no reason to feel icky as the person who suffered the “violent” behavior, the biggest sentiment I feel after admitting that is: shame.
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Instead of focusing on the terrible things happening in the world, I’m choosing to focus on how the terrible things demonstrate God’s sovereignty and power.
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This self-induced defense mechanism of spiritual regression wreaks so much havoc on your life as you attempt to protect yourself from anxious thoughts or feelings, and try to assure yourself that you’re psychologically safe.
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I was fully tuned into the sermon until the Pastor said: “Some of us are too fragile for God’s glory…We think being “chosen” or “called” is equivalent to receiving special privileges.”
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For example, whenever there is a transition and/or shift happening in my life, it’s usually accompanied by other transitions and/or shifts.
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It felt like I’d won the war, but lost the battle. The only way I can describe how I felt is like the ending of the movie 300. Although the Spartans won, nothing was ever the same because they all died on the battlefield.
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This year, several experiences triggered memories and feelings held by the little girl in me that I thought the adult me had suppressed years ago.
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That day, the evolution of my ministry stopped being plans inside the Notepad app on my phone and became a reality.
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A piece of me died this month. And it's kind of ironic considering that September marked another year of life, health and strength for me.
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While watching the women in my family taught me perseverance, it didn’t teach me how to rest.
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As I discussed the situation with family and friends over the next few days, I discovered an open wound that I’ve unknowingly been carrying since 5th grade.
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Because I always finish what I start, admitting defeat was very difficult. But it’s better to surrender, retreat, and try again, than to get beat up and still lose the fight.
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