Tag: Christian

People Pleasing

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‘It is better to take refuge in the Lord than to trust in people.” – Proverbs 118:8, NLT

It was the underhanded bribe. The smile with manipulation underneath. The feeling of finally, finally, they were pleasing to someone. Someone approved.

Or maybe they were running scared. He was running scared. He knew the Teacher, the one who had become his friend, his brother. His Savior. And though what was happening to Him was so incredibly wrong, he didn’t want his life to be destroyed too. He didn’t want to be persecuted because of their wrong beliefs. So he aimed for pleasing the people surrounding him. Pleasing the crowds nagging him. The mocking voices, so they would no longer mock.

So he lied, he lied and he lied again. Then the rooster crowed.

And though He was persecuted and died a death he didn’t deserve, it wasn’t the end. And the people pleaser would turn into a rock who would be a martyr in the end. Because He was worthy.

“Fearing people is a dangerous trap, but trusting the Lord means safety.” – Proverbs 29:25, NLT

I don’t say no very well. If it’s something that scares me, maybe. If it’s something that I know goes against the Bible, it’s very easy to say no.

But when a loved one, a friend, even colleague or acquaintance has an idea, a need, takes control of the plans or tries to make way with their own agenda – that’s when my mouth can’t form the words. Or just word. It’s a simple, “no” -or- “I cannot.” And sometimes, I even find myself offering time, or something, that is not convenient to give.

Part of it is because I hate being rejected, so I feel like I need to please others, so they don’t. I want my image to look good. I want people to like me. I can be passive aggressive, to a fault. I come off as naïve, with a soft-spoken voice and a quiet demeanor. I’m meek. But as my pastor said, meekness isn’t weakness, it’s strength under control. Maybe.

Maybe if I used my quietness and saved my nos, people would believe it when I said no. Maybe people wouldn’t tread so much.

It’s just that, the plans are made without my input. An agenda set that wasn’t in my timing. I said I wanted to go somewhere, but that place was in the future, in my own time. Not…theirs. I love them, but God’s timing, not someone else’s. You should never go somewhere or do something because someone else wants you to if you do not feel peace. Yet don’t lead them on. Say I can’t, or no. That’s the heart of my issue.

You can’t buy your friends, because they end up owning you. You can’t submit to every wish and plan that someone else has. Because in the end, it’s their relationship and their power over you. You were never in it. You were just the happy, pleasant companion that they can bounce all their ideas off of, or put their rants and stress on. It falls on you. If they’re friends with you for their own motives, and not because they genuinely like you, you will always feel stressed out and overwhelmed because it is a toxic relationship. If they bring you stress instead of joy, if they bring you demands instead of actual friendship – they are not your friend.

Satan comes to steal, kill, and destroy. He will use every opportunity he can, even if it’s through people you know, to attack you. When you’re in God’s will, when you’re doing things that shake the kingdom, we have a very real enemy who wants to wage war. Who wants to destroy. He isn’t very subtle. It can seem like a regular motion at first, but in the end, he makes himself known. It’ll be a jab here, a jab there. A random thing happening that is so very bizarre that the only thing you can do is stop and realize that that jab was from your enemy. But the enemy, by the blood of the Lamb, has been defeated. He has no hold on you, no say over your life. He can try to attack, but you have Jesus, the King of Kings, on your side. You have angels guarding you and going to battle for you. There is nothing that Satan can do to stop God’s plan for your life. Job had to face his attacks, he went through so many trials and tribulations, but God, in His mercy, and because He is who He says He is, restored. He restored more and better than Job could’ve ever hoped or imagined. Not because Job or his friends were perfect – far from it. But because God is.

The enemy will use “friendships” against us, and people against us. He came disguised as an angel of light, easy to persuade and trick. But the One who truly is the Light of the World has defeated the enemy. People might feel like they can control your life, manipulate you with their ideas. Recognize what narcissism is. It comes in the form charm, making you feel like the most clever, important person in the world. But then, somewhere in the chaos of the demands and the feeling of being insufficient, you recognize in your spirit you feel stressed after being with that person. The demands come. The stresses multiply. You have saved your nos, but now it’s time to say your no.

If they are your friend, if they are in it because they’re truly for you, then they will understand. But guard against the person who ridicules you, the one who jumps on social media to make complaints because you didn’t kowtow to their wishes. Or test them by their fruit. If they easily criticize others and gossip, and put down on others, know these red flags.

God wants us to be lights to everyone and witnesses, but He’s the Father who, seeing His child in jeopardy and spiritual turmoil, would never leave them there. He’s the Father who steps in and teaches His child to stick up for themselves, but He also defeats the enemy. Justice is His. He pulls us out of harm and sets our feet upon stone. He is the solid rock. Know when the situation feels so overwhelming and the attack so vile that you need to get out, and get out. Stay out. Don’t entertain the enemy. Leave justice in the hands of God, for Jesus is justice Himself. Leave that person, that friendship, in God’s hands. Because He will do everything to protect His children from those that mean harm. If a person is intended to be in your life, they’ll be there.

I catch myself going out of my way to say something that will please someone, while failing to realize that the very thing that would please them would inconvenience me. It would stress me out and become a burden. But I would bear it, for them.

I think I’m doing this good, this pleasing them, and it’s good. But ultimately, it goes against my gut instinct. And well, yes, Jesus realizes our motives and our purpose – He also gives us the Holy Spirit. And the Holy Spirit also speaks to us through instincts, through our emotions. He guides us along His path of life.

So when we feel like we shouldn’t go somewhere or do something, pray. If you don’t feel an absolute peace, pray some more. And if you still do not have peace, let your answer be, “I can’t” or “No.”

You do not owe anything to anyone, and your purpose in this life is to follow Christ. You don’t owe an explanation. Let your no be no and your yes be yes.

It might be frustrating as can be. It might feel like you’re letting the world and everything around you down, and that you’ll be a disappointment. But if the person you are staying “no” truly has the right motives and truly regards your friendship, they will understand.

God will ask us to do hard things, but He will never guide us into doing something that will 1) tempt us 2) give us anxiety 3) be more than we can bare. His yoke is easy, and His burden is light (Matthew 11:30)

When we feel like we’re being asked to do too much, when we feel like we’ve reached our breaking point, but still the demands keep coming – say your no. Pray, and say your no. Where Jesus is, there’s peace and there is safety. Yes, He will pick up and force you out of your comfort zone, He will guide you in His purpose for His glory. But He will never force you to do something that overwhelms you to the point of anxiety, overwhelming desperation, and fear. Fear is not of God. Being bullied and manipulated into doing something, being pressured to the point of stress, is not from Jesus. God is good, and He’s the loving Father who calls us to be bold and courageous (Joshua 1:9). But He also reminds us to take heart, for He has overcome the world (John 16:33)

Remember when the Pharisees made their demands, when people who mocked Him demanded miracles. When Satan demanded He bow.

These people, the enemy…they didn’t realize whom they were speaking to. They made their demands, but Jesus knew their hearts and their motives. He knew His purpose. Sure, it could’ve been easier their way, maybe if He had answered. But His gaze wasn’t fixed on the easy, temporary temptation of fleshly relief; His eyes were fixed on the cross and the empty tomb and eternity for all who call on Him.

The Savior, the one who is eternally good and kind and worthy, didn’t go out of His way to meet the demands of people. He knew truth because He is The Truth. He knew the depths of their hearts. I’m going to assume that Jesus didn’t have stress or feel overwhelmed by the situation because He could see them for what they were, and He was fully Himself. Fully God, fully man. Fully gracious, but fully justice. His mercy knows no bounds, and His justice is life because He is life.

He was the Lamb of God, and He only was here for the approval – for the life, death, sacrifice, and resurrection of one. God. He discernment far beyond what any of us every could. And He conquered the grave so we can have eternity. He saw the hearts of men, but never gave the enemy a foothold. The ultimate one who would bring true love to people wasn’t a sacrificial people-pleaser, He was and is strength and hope and life.

He understood, though. He understood how the crowds can be, how people can sway and manipulate identities. He knows my issues and He sees yours. He knew Peter’s before they happened. That absolute utter fear which led to denial so he would have good standing with the crowd.

Jesus knew, He foresaw, and He forgave.

Peter the people-pleaser became a martyr for his Savior. When Jesus conquered the grave, spreading that Good News became Peter’s identity. No longer needing to please the fallen people of this world, but needing to tell everyone that the Messiah is risen, and Jesus was his identity.

“Our purpose is to please God, not people.” – 1 Thessalonians 2:4, NLT

He told Him he would never deny Him, that he would never walk away. That he would stay by His side as He had with him. Yet He saw things he couldn’t, He understood his weakness more than he could comprehend. Jesus knew the depths of despair, the insecurities that had plagued Simon Peter. In three short years Jesus had took hold Peter’s life, and the lives of all who followed Him, and turned them upside down. Peter was changed. And yet this nature within him, the one of needing to please those around him, to have the approval of others, that stained his very soul.

In the harshest moments of Jesus’ life, when He bore a weight no one could ever possibly comprehend, Peter denied Him. Peter denied Him again. Because Peter was terrified for his own life, terrified of what they would do. When all that should’ve mattered, all that did matter, was what Jesus would do. What He had already done. But I couldn’t see beyond his fear. He couldn’t see beyond what they would do if he didn’t think as they wished.

The rooster crowed, just as He said it would. And Peter wept.

He wasn’t there, didn’t see the ultimate punishment and the hell they put Christ through. He wasn’t there, caught up in his shame and sin, horrified by this separation. He hid from Him, and had lied to save himself. Yet this Man who never did wrong – He truly never did wrong – He was dying. He was on the cross. And He was killed.

Surely, out of all the miracles, He could’ve spoken a word and could’ve been rescued. He fulfilled so many prophecies, so why did it have to end this way?

But what was it the prophets had said? What was it they foretold?

Saturday felt like the longest day in history. Buried in his grief, overwhelmed by his shame and lies.

Yet when Mary came running in, saying the stone had been moved. There was a glimmer of hope. He said He was Life. And the one who is Life couldn’t stay in the tomb, could He?

John outran him, but, out of breath, he let Peter enter first.

The tomb was empty. The linens which had covered Him were there, neatly folded. The tomb was empty. Surely…surely.

Then Peter saw Him, he saw His hands, His feet. He had risen! He had defeated death! Every prophecy foretold He fulfilled. Jesus was risen! He had conquered death. And with it, sin. His sin. His denial. His guilt.

He told Peter he would be His rock. How could Jesus redeem him so? Yet there He was, the perfect sacrifice for the world had somehow chosen him, this lowly fisherman – and chose him to fish for people. With all his fears of needing to please people, all his years of covering his tracks, of feeling as though he wasn’t enough. He still chose him. His forgiveness and mercy knows no bounds. And though he would fall, because he was not perfect, Jesus still made him righteous. Because it was His perfect work at the cross. There would be trials, but there would be joy. There was a priceless inheritance beyond this world, a salvation all through Him. And Peter would tell the world about Jesus.


“But Peter and the apostles answered, ‘We must obey God rather than men.’” – Acts 5:29, ESV

Sin

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“Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, ‘Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?’

‘No Lord,’ She said.

And Jesus said, ‘Neither do I. Go and sin no more.’” – John 8:10-11, NLT

I had been there without purpose, lost in the darkness. I was there as a space, waiting for something, for some type of meaning.

Finally, that came. Words were spoken. It happened so quickly. One day went by, then two, then seven.

I was seeing these things brought to life, names being given. Lights and then a light for the darkness. Living creatures, then living man. A perfect plan taking shape, light taking over. Finally, my once formless, void-less self, was brought to form, was made a house. I was chosen, out of everything else. I was the space that was spoken to, and I abounded with thrilling creation. I was a place that would hold something so incredibly dear and near to the ones made in His Image.

There was wisdom, light. It was beautiful.

There was an enemy lurking, buried in the depths. The reason I’d been enveloped in darkness. Surely, he couldn’t win. How could anything created by the Creator go against Him? How could some slivering creature deceive those made in the Creator’s very Image? Imago Dei.

He desired a relationship. He desired true love. So, He provided free will. The choice.

I shuttered as she took the fruit, making the wrong choice.

Though I still had a purpose and housed such beauty, a darkness I had never known before entered. It felt as though it were strangling me. I had seen such life before, but now there would be death. I wondered how this story would turn out. Would there be wrath? Would I go back to what I had been before He spoke light over me? Would my story ever have redemption? I was a void, a dark shell; but He spoke purpose and life over me.

Yet sin entered in, and the darkness I thought I knew before abounded.

I waited, for thousands and thousands of years. Prophecy after prophecy of one who would redeem.

Then there was 400 years of silence and burdens unimaginable. The weight kept pressing on, the darkness of that within me grew heavier with each passing day, with each passing sin. It felt hopeless.

But then, just when it felt like the void had settled in forever and the new darkness was here to stay, a star rose in the east and with the breath of a newborn, the greatest Light had entered. 

A Light to forever shine in the darkness, to never be extinguished.

“The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can never extinguish it.” – John 1:5, NLT

Everyone has sinned, we all fall short of God’s glorious standard. For me, it feels like I’m good at falling short every day. The gossip. The judgement. I stub my toe and a word pops out that I shouldn’t say. Someone is just a little too good looking. There are books, movies, shows and music that have themes, scenes and words that just does not simply honor God in any form. Instead, it tears Him down and makes a mockery. I lie, I cheat, I fear. I want too many things. The greed, the frustration and anger, contempt, unforgiveness, bitterness. The selfishness, the judging, the criticizing.

I sin. I fall short.

We all have.

It’s engrained in us. I feel horrible when I fall. But sometimes, I either turn around and do it again, or I keep pleading forgiveness for something that, if I was truly sincere the first time I repented, He’s already forgiven me.

Then sometimes I repent, and when tempted to go back, God helps me be strong. But what happens when I sin and fall short, when I give in again? Why do I keep going back to something that doesn’t give me life? Something that only satisfies the temporary and leaves me second guessing if I could ever deserve the eternal?

Because the thing is, I don’t deserve it.

But Jesus bore the full brunt of what I deserve, of what my sin does, on the cross. Because of Christ’s perfect work, I can have eternity with Him.

Nothing is greater than Christ’s sacrifice on the cross. No sin I commit is too big for His redemption story. I believe it’s the repetitiveness, it’s the weak side, it’s the time and time again that I fall short, that hurts the most. I’ll ask Him a million times to forgive me. And because He is truly good, He is truly just, and His sacrifice was perfect, He does. He already has. Yet knowing Him, I want to please Him and honor Him with my life. I want to go and sin no more. But we have a very real enemy that is always waiting to trip us up, waiting for us to fall. And it’s in those moments that He will use and abuse to make us think that we are no longer loved or cared for. To make us think that we’re so dirty and buried in our sin that we have no right to ask for forgiveness and come boldly before the throne of our gracious God once again. Sin separates because Satan steals.

Jesus and His perfect work ensure that though we sin and fall short, when we come before Him and repent – there is nothing that Christ won’t forgive (except the unforgivable sin which is denying the Holy Spirit): “Whoever blasphemes against the Holy Spirit will never be forgiven; they are guilty of eternal sin.” – Mark 3:29, NIV

We are saved by grace through faith in Jesus (Ephesians 2:8-9). This world is going to give us a reason to sin every day. Sometimes we wake up on the wrong side of the bed and that can affect us. Or the stresses pile up so very high, and that can make us want to give in to temptation. We have all sinned and fallen short (Romans 3:23).

But. God.

God’s grace. There is nothing that we could ever do. We can sit and beg and fall to our knees and plead for forgiveness a million times. We can even resort to making some sort of sacrifice; but what sacrifice would matter when the only Perfect Sacrifice laid down His life to conquer death and the grave?

We have all sinned. But He tells us broken, fallible creatures to, “Go and sin no more.” When we fail? I believe that’s His same command. Repent. Genuinely, remorsefully, repent. Realize what you have done isn’t in God’s best interest for you. Realize the stain. Realize the bloody cross and the punishment that you deserved, that He bore. He bore our sins and sicknesses, and He conquered death and the grave so we can have eternal life through Him.

We can never fully comprehend the entire weight of what sin does until we look at the death Jesus had to die for us. We must closely examine how He took our place. The beatings, the lashings, the crown of thorns, the nails into His wrists and feet. The bloody cross. His blood for ours. His life for ours. Death had to die so we could live. Without Him, we would be bound to the Old Testament laws and the sacrificial system. Without Him, we would be hopeless, barely getting by, guilt eating at us until the next sacrifices were made. An animal’s life for what we had done. All eloquence and grandeur, but it would never be enough. It was never enough until love came down and took our place.

“The Lord observed the extent of human wickedness on earth He saw that everything they imagined was consistently and totally evil.” – Genesis 6:5, NLT

I’ve read Genesis so many times, but this time, it jumped out at me.  With every evil intentioned theme in movies, shows and other media, this feels like what’s going on in our world today. It feels like the United States has quickly, devastatingly, become Babylon, where everything people imagine – especially things highlighted in the media – has become consistently, and totally evil.

This is also the first place in the Bible where God’s heart breaks. Because of humanity’s sin and wickedness. The floods came along with Noah’s story, where the few righteous (Noah’s family) were saved. Everyone else was swept away.

But all have sinned, all have fallen short. Nothing could ever truly fix it. No one sacrifice would cover a person’s sin throughout their lifetime, nothing could ever truly be enough. People would always have to repent, to plead. To find the right lamb.

But God so loved the world.

God, and only God, could know the one, perfect sacrifice. The only Lamb that could cover every sin throughout all of eternity. Only God, through taking our place, could bear the weight of the world, bear our punishment, and give us freedom. The full extent of our wickedness, the full extent of our sins and sicknesses and sorrows. Of death.

Only God. He gave His one and only Son, Jesus. “For God made Christ, who never sinned, to be the offering for our sin, so that we could be made right with God through Christ.” – 2 Corinthians 5:21, NLT

It was there, on the cross, full circle, where His heart broke. Before the flood, before the rainbow, His grand redemption plan was set into place. He broke there before Noah, and it broke for all humanity forever on the cross (deduced by the blood and the water. Jesus died of a broken heart.) By His grace, through faith, we are saved. It was nothing that we could ever do but everything He’s done. Because of Jesus, we have hope, we have eternity, and we can rejoice because, though we don’t deserve it, we get to have His peace and His joy. We get to rest in our Savior. We are redeemed. We are given new life. And it’s all because of Jesus!

Jesus. It’s all because of Him. It was nothing I could ever do, or you could ever do. We are so imperfect. But the perfect one bore our sins and sicknesses and conquered death so we can know eternal life.

Paul once said about His sinful nature:

“So the trouble is not with the law, for it is spiritual and good. The trouble is with me, for I am all too human, a slave to sin. I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate. But if I know that what I am doing is wrong, this shows that I agree that the law is good. So I am not the one doing wrong; it is the sin living in me that does it. And I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. I want to do what is right, but I can’t. I want to do what is good, but I don’t. I don’t want to do what is wrong, but I do it anyway. But if I do what I don’t want to do, I am not really the one doing wrong; it is the sin living in me that does it… I love God’s law with all my heart. But there is another power within me that is at war with my mind. This power makes me a slave to the sin that is still within me. Oh, what a miserable person I am! Who will free me from this life that is dominated by sin and death? Thank God! The answer is in Jesus Christ our Lord.” – Romans 7:14- 25, NLT

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He believed his cause was of righteousness, and he was doing the right thing. He was all in for persecution and condemning His followers. He hated them with a passion he believed was from Yahweh. He lashed out. He agreed with the killing of the young man they called Stephen. Surely Yahweh would be pleased. After all, how dare this man who came from Nazareth be called the Son of God? After all, he was condemned to die on the cross. Found guilty. He was buried in a sinner’s grave. Surely, no Messiah prophesied would come as He did. So poorly, hanging out with despised tax collectors and other sinners. Fishermen. The diseased outcasts. Manipulating people by the thousands and using bizarre methods to work His supposed miracles.

Yet… he saw Him when he shouldn’t have. He was acting in self-righteousness, following the regulations of the religious leaders instead of actually seeing what the prophets had written. What He had fulfilled. He had fulfilled everything.

He saw Him, real as ever, risen.  He was blinded yet seeing more than he had ever seen.

He had been malicious to His followers, promoting their punishment and murders. Despising His Way.

Only when he was blind did he truly see that He was The Christ.

When he saw, when he accepted, He guided him to his actual purpose.

If the Risen Messiah could choose him after all I had done, after the depths of his sin, then He must truly love everyone. He must desire every heart, every soul. The Jews first…and also, the Gentiles (Romans 1:6).

He would tell them about Him. All of them. He would tell of this redemption story set in place from the beginning of time. He would boast, from now on, only in Christ Jesus and Him crucified (Galatians 6:14).

The resurrected King had redeemed Saul, and turned him into Paul. He brought Paul out of death into life. Out of the darkness, into His light. He was so incredibly blind, held by the weight of what he had been taught to be right. Bound by the pride of religion and laws, while missing that He came for relationship. He came humbly. And Paul could finally, finally see.

“For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.” – Romans 6:23, ESV

Anxiety

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“Be anxious for nothing, 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 minds through Christ Jesus.”

-Philippians 4:6-7

I was there in the darkness, the pressure in the midst of what could be good. I was the big “what if?” question. I was the doubt, the fear. I may have pressed her to taking a bite of the fruit. I caused them to lie. I caused the wife to look back. I caused the trembling stutter. The waiting. All the what ifs.

Then I adapted with the people, trying to get into every aspect of their days to distract them. Then there was one lady, run amuck with busyness over some guest.  I triggered a grudge against her sister for not helping, pressing on her and causing her to feel overwhelmed. Anxious.  I was her anxiety. All of theirs. The what ifs, the doubt, the worry, the never feeling like they were enough, the questioning, the busyness, the pressing lack.  The ropes that tangled over them in the night. The noises in the night that kept them from a peaceful sleep. Their constant disrupter. Their insufficiency reminder. I was a plague, but so common that none of them fought it. Anxiety.

As I was doing my best work with distractions over preparations, she called out to the guest to berate her sister.

But what she called the guest confused me. Lord.

Then the guest came back with a voice opposite mine, a voice laden with peace and calmer than the calmest sea. The guest told her that indeed, only one thing was needed.

There I recoiled to nothingness as the calm He spoke washed over her. I could attack others still, but His words would eternally defeat me.

“’Martha, Martha,’ The Lord answered, ‘you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed – or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.’” – Luke 10:41-42, NIV

—

It woke me in the middle of the night. It felt like there was a weight pressing on my chest, and ropes strangling my neck. I could feel the darkness, and I couldn’t catch my breath.

I didn’t know what it was, but it felt evil. And I gasped the only thing, the only Name, I could think of: “Jesus.”

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus.

I whispered it a few more times, and finally, the weight went away. I wasn’t being strangled any more. Instead of the dark evil presence, light seemed to fill the room and I finally, finally, felt peace.

I woke again knowing what had happened: A very severe anxiety attack.

Sometimes they come when you do expect them, around a move, a new job or the loss of one, and worse, the loss of a loved one.

They come when you don’t expect them as well.

Anxiety is as debilitating as it is frustrating. So many of the bad emotions, all rolled into one. Doubt, fear, questioning, worrying, irritation, dread. It causes health issues. It makes it difficult to take a deep breath. Your chemicals are imbalanced, and it plagues those it attacks. There seems to be no end to it, no hope in sight.

We can trust God’s Word. We can go to Him with our thoughts and our minds. But anxiety is may very well be one of the opposites of faith and trust. That niggling worry deep within. That fear that frustrates you, and the anger that overwhelms you.

Maybe you can’t even explain why you are feeling the way that you are. Why you are doubting. Why you can’t trust them. Why you’re doubting every decision. There is a haunting reason behind it though: Anxiety.

It steals, it kills, and it destroys. It’s the root of bitterness that sinks down. It’s the reason you walk on eggshells about getting having a relationship, because everything else hasn’t turned out – why should that?  It’s the reason you worry about the symptom to the point where you obsess. Because surely. It must be wrong. They must have bad intentions. That place that God’s held on to for you – there must be something wrong with it.

Everything could go wrong. It could be the biggest mistake of your life.

Or.

Or you could lay out fleeces, fall on your knees to pray, and trust that God opens doors that no man can shut. Trust that He can place the right people in your life and taking the wrong ones out of it. Trust that, if you are supposed to have that place in that dream location – maybe the reason it hasn’t sold isn’t because there’s something detrimentally wrong with it; but because you have a loving Father who knows your heart’s desires and wants that good for you. Trust that He will protect you wherever you go because He knows the longing in your heart to explore and see His creation. Trust that He can watch over your beloved pet when you’re away. Trust that the baby in your womb will be healthy, that your pregnancy will be healthy – because: “God’s way is perfect. All the Lord’s promises prove true. He is a shield for all who look to Him for protection.” -Psalms 18:30, NLT

And trust and have faith that, when things do not work out, God still has a plan. He will still protect you. He can still heal, still save. Because the one who holds the stars is for you and will never leave you or forsake you. He created you for a purpose, for a reason.

He gives us His Holy Spirit to dwell in us, to direct us, to guide us to Him. And He guides. He gives us discernment. He is for us and never leaves us or abandons us, if we choose Him.

What I struggle with though, is discerning His voice. I second guess myself. Are my doubts my anxiety, or is it the Holy Spirit warning me? How do I know the difference?

How do I know when Jesus is protecting me, versus knowing when the grief in my heart is overwhelming me to the point where my faith is lacking? How do I know?

How do you know?

First, pray. Seek Jesus first. Ask Him to make it clear, abundantly clear, so that you know that you know that you know. Ask Jesus to give you His peace about whether a decision is right or not. Ask Him to pull you out of a situation.

If you would like to take an example out of the Bible, lay out a fleece as to if you should do something. Take Gideon’s approach. God likes bold courage, and He enjoys answering prayers when they’re in His will. He loves bold faith and true allegiance. When we ask Him to place a rainbow n the sky for a sign to buy that place – He just might. Or if pray for the one He intends for us to approach us first with a true witness for Christ, He can. Nothing is too difficult for Jesus. Nothing is too overwhelming. Maybe if we shouldn’t go somewhere, we can pray that He will make us late, or have a flight cancelled (no matter how frustrating). Or if that person should or should not be in our lives, that they’ll say or do something, and God will confirm it through that. We can ask God to make it abundantly clear. That the sale will fall through. That the person’s true colors will be revealed, without harming anyone. That if you aren’t supposed to go there, that something else will come up. That everyone will be safe, but that God will protect and redirect.

But seek Christ first. He is the Way Maker and the Miracle Worker. Nothing is too difficult for Him.

Or sometimes, when it truly feels like He is silent, then He’s letting you do this. Because maybe no matter the decision, it won’t harm you in total. His discernment was there, His voice still and small. But you went anyway. And you got sick. But it was your choice, and you made it through the illness. He tried to give you a warning in a still small way, but you ignored it and paid. But the price wasn’t your overall health, and it wouldn’t impact you the rest of your life.

He just wanted to spare you that.

He gives us free will.

He talks to us.

I just wish He would sometimes have it written down clearly, what to do, when to go, who to trust, how to handle it.

But even when it feels like He’s silent, or even when we’re not so good at listening, He protects us.

He wants our silly requests, our troubled pleas. Nothing is to insignificant or little for Him. If God knows the grains of sand on the seashore and can call the stars by name, how much more for even the seemingly minute needs for His children. He longs to protect us. Maybe, if we can be better about going to Him with the little things, the great anxieties won’t have a moment to touch us.

God is good, He is faithful, and He will never fail us. But anxiety does cripple.

With anxiety, there is discord. There is the feeling of being strangled, of not being able to catch your breath. There’s panic and frustration, and overwhelming thoughts and grief. There’s the panicking need to hurry. There is force.

With God, there is peace. There is clarity. And when His voice is still and small, we have to remember to truly surrender and trust Him, and go with your heart, because He lives there. Because the Holy Spirit is in you, the Hope of Glory. Never frustratingly forceful. Gentle, peaceful, kind. Secure. Humble. Protective. Discerning. Not anxious and panicked.

As a parent sees a dangerous situation their little child could be approaching but doesn’t want to frighten them, they gently direct, gently guide them away from the harm. When the situation is pressing down, and their child is oh-so-stubborn and about to be in the throes of danger, the parent will pull them out with an absolute motion.

Probably more than half of the time, we can’t comprehend all that God is protecting us from, gently guiding us away from.

Yet when He has something good for us and our anxiety paves the way to doubt, when we question and question and overanalyze and doubt and try to inflict our own concerns and all that could go wrong – be careful. Know anxiety. Know the opportunities God gives you. And guard your heart above all else (Proverbs 4:23), but be soft-hearted toward the path where Christ leads.

Anxiety was never supposed to be attached to us as it is. It was never supposed to sink in, to take hold, to strangle. To kill, steal and destroy.  We were never meant to go with our fears and live out our days paranoid.

We’re supposed to know the Father’s voice. We are sheep, and we are supposed to be in tune with our Shepherd. To know His voice. To know His still, small voice. To understand when He is warning us, when He is redirecting us and when He is saying know. Through that, we are supposed to know what isn’t of Him. What’s the voice of fear and anxiety. To know God’s Word is to know that He never intended for us to be anxious, He never intended for it to be such a pandemic. He intended us for peace.

Because with Jesus there is a peace. There is hope and rest and no anxiety when we know where our security lies.

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in Me.” – John 14:1, NIV

He was given a command, but he chose to run instead. Not wanting to listen, not wanting to go where God needed Him. There was something in him, some darkness, some sort of attack that made him shut out the voice of God and seek an escape. So he thought he would be free of the Almighty on a boat. Then the wind and waves came, and the once sturdy boat felt like a fragile creature ready to break apart. They all had to be anxious.

God calmed the sea when they through him in. He sank, then sank some more. To the very depths. But God’s purpose would prevail, and Jonah ended up in the belly of the whale. Because in spite of his running, in spite of his determination to run with his anxiety and ignore the voice of God, God was greater.

For three days and three nights in the belly, God worked on him. Finally, Nineveh would hear His news.

“I sank beneath the waves, and the waters closed over me.

Seaweed wrapped itself around my head.

I sank down to the very roots of the mountains.

I was imprisoned in the earth, whose gates lock shut forever.

But you, O Lord my God, snatched me from the jaws of death!”

  • Jonah 2:5-6

-By ASD, Alex D. Scottlynn

Anchored Identity – Introduction

adacostauf

Anchored Identity

-Introduction-

“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through Him all things were made; without Him nothing was made that has been made. In Him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind.” – John 1:1-4, NIV

In the beginning.

In the beginning was the word.

In our beginning, in your beginning, it probably started with a cry. With a whisper of a name.

Then the whir of hospital monitors and medical tools, and the voice of a million strangers bombarded you. You were whisked off; taken from the comfort of the warm home you’d grown to love the last nine months.

Yet through the whir, maybe your little ears heard voices in the background. They were familiar. You’d come to love them as you’d developed in your home. As you were being poked and prodded and cleaned, you heard the comforting voices and clung to them, until you were finally placed to rest on the familiar heartbeat of your home.

Then the familiar voice, this heartbeat’s voice, said a name over you again. Your identity.

The one thing that would stick with you.

You weren’t prepared for the others though. The identities given through the noise. More of a blur.

More confusion.

More judgement.

More of a cruel world.

What would it be like to be brand new again? What would it be like to have a fresh start? To have a name spoken over you that would be your identity, without judgement. With love, and joy.

It couldn’t be possible, could it?

The labels the world pressed on you had become your identity, along with your name.

Lost. Confused. Unloved. Unwanted. Orphan. Homeless. Sick. Anxious. Mourner. Broken. Fearful. Unknown. Condemned. Criminal. Liar. Greedy. Sinner.

The noise. The identities.

The identities come like one wave after the next, crashing against you and pushing you down to the depths. You feel like you are drowning.

But then, something solid comes within your grasp. Your saltwater-blurred eyes open to find the barnacle encrusted steel piece stuck in the floor of the sea. You grab hold of the line attached to it and follow it with your eyes through the muck and mire. There’s a light at the end. So you hold onto your anchor, and follow it to the light.

Because the identities the world pressed on you were suffocating, but this anchor – there’s a light at the end. There are the promises of newness. Of new identities. Of promises of hope and a future and a glorious eternity if only you cling to this Anchor.

“So from now on we regard no one from a worldly point of view. Though we once regarded Christ in this way, we do so no longer. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” – 2 Corinthians 5:16-17, NIV