Author

Lois Flowers

How Gideon Can Help Us Respond with Courage and Boldness

by Lois Flowers October 4, 2022

by Lois Flowers

Inside: Gideon asked God for three signs, and God performed a miracle each time. Keep reading to find out why—and what happened next.

I meant to write this post last year, when my word for the year was strength. I’ve actually been thinking about it for much longer than that, though, and it sometimes happens that the longer I ponder something, the harder it is to write about it. I tried several times last year, but the words just didn’t come. After giving it another shot recently, I finally got it done. I hope the two-part series that begins today encourages your heart.

• • •

The account of how Gideon rose up out obscurity to save the Israelites from their oppressors is one of my favorite narratives in the Old Testament. Perhaps you remember the story. Israel is in chaos. The judges who are supposed to be in charge are not leading well, to say the least.

Gideon is threshing wheat in a wine press when “the Angel of the Lord appeared to him and said: ‘The Lord is with you, mighty warrior.’ ” (Judges 6:12)

That’s not exactly the greeting you’d expect God to give someone who is so obviously hiding out from his enemies. But when Gideon responds with a barrage of questions about why all the calamity had befallen Israel if the Lord was really with them, the Angel is unfazed.

“The Lord turned to him and said, ‘Go in the strength you have and deliver Israel from the power of Midian. Am I not sending you?’ ” (Judges 6:14)

Gideon clearly doesn’t think he’s the man for the job. But when he describes his family as the weakest in their tribe and himself as the youngest in his father’s family, the Lord simply says, “I will be with you. … You will strike Midian down as if it were one man.” (Judges 6:15-16)

Then the story gets really interesting. Gideon asks for a sign of God’s favor, and the angel brings fire up from a rock and consumes the man’s sacrifice. (Judges 6:17-22) Later, Gideon wants even more assurance that God will deliver Israel from the Midianites. So he asks for not one, but two additional signs.

“Then Gideon said to God … ‘I will put a fleece of wool here on the threshing floor. If dew is only on the fleece, and all the ground is dry, I will know that You will deliver Israel by my strength, as You said.’ And that is what happened. When he got up early in the morning, he squeezed the fleece and wrung dew out of it, filling a bowl with water.

“Gideon then said to God, ‘Don’t be angry with me; let me speak one more time. Please allow me to make one more test with the fleece. Let it remain dry, and the dew be all over the ground.’ That night God did as Gideon requested: only the fleece was dry, and dew was all over the ground.” (Judges 6:36-40)

So, a question. When God calls Gideon a “mighty warrior” at the beginning of their encounter, is He being sarcastic, or does He see something that even Gideon himself has missed?

Armchair theologians—maybe even serious students of the Bible—might chastise Gideon for his apparent cowardice, his seeming lack of faith, his relentless requests for signs. I don’t know, though. I actually see resourcefulness in his means of threshing and boldness in his request for proof.

I’m guessing the Angel of the Lord scared Gideon half out of his wits, but he still asks for three signs. And God performs the miracles. Every single one.

He doesn’t chastise Gideon for his unbelief or strike him mute for his lack of faith (which did happen to other people in scripture, by the way—Sarah and Zechariah come to mind).

Perhaps this was because God knew Gideon’s heart. He knew how Gideon was wired—his personality, his internal drive, his willingness to do what was necessary, even if it was unconventional or he had to sneak around to do it.

Maybe that’s what the Angel of the Lord was talking about when he told Gideon to go in the strength that he had.

What happens next makes that argument even more convincing. Once Gideon accepts his new assignment, he has to recruit an army. He starts out with 32,000 volunteers, but God has some very specific instructions about how to narrow down the troops. (Judges 7:2-6)

By the time everyone who is scared or demonstrated a lack of readiness gets sent home, Gideon is left with 300 soldiers, armed with nothing more than trumpets, empty pitchers and torches. (See Judges 7:9-25 for details of the actual battle.)

Talk about unorthodox military strategy. Ridiculous is more like it. And yet, there’s no record in scripture of Gideon questioning any of it.

When he finally decided to step out and boldly go in the strength that he had, God did amazing things. The end result wasn’t up to Gideon, his job was to do what God told him to do. And the outcome was an astounding victory for the Israelites.

So what does all this have to do with us today? Click here for Part Two—How to Cope When Doubts and Fears are Eroding Your Confidence.

♥ Lois

Some might chastise Gideon for his apparent cowardice and relentless requests for signs. But I see resourcefulness in his means of threshing and boldness in his request for proof. Share on X The Angel of the Lord probably scared Gideon half out of his wits, but he still asked for three signs. And God performed the miracles. Every single one. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with OneWord2022, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

October 4, 2022 24 comments

What to Remember When God Feels Distant

by Lois Flowers September 20, 2022

by Lois Flowers

Inside: What the sunrise teaches us about God’s glory and presence, even during seasons when it’s hard to feel Him with us.

Last winter, when the sun rose later and I was able to get outside to run before the break of dawn, I noticed something interesting. Dawn comes every morning, but when the sky is clear, it’s not as spectacular. It’s the presence of clouds that make the sunrise brilliant.

This doesn’t happen when it’s completely overcast, of course. But when there are white or gray clouds spread across the sky, the sun’s early morning beams reflect off them, producing all the glorious colors that take our breath away while we’re driving to work or walking to school or running down the trail.

There’s a spiritual application here, I think. Without the clouds—the problems, cares and concerns of life—we would miss many opportunities to see God’s glory and provision displayed.

I’ve found it to be true; perhaps you have too. Often, it is in seasons of struggle and weariness that we find God’s peace to be most sustaining, His comfort most reassuring, His presence most stabilizing.

Maybe we have to come to the end of ourselves to realize He truly is the only Source of everything we need?

But what about the days when the sky is completely overcast? How do they fit into our spiritual metaphor?

Is it contradictory to suggest that tough seasons provide equal opportunities to feel closer to God than ever, and also further apart than ever? Perhaps, but it’s also true.

God sometimes seems distant when we’re going through a hard time. He doesn’t appear to be answering our prayers. We don’t notice evidence of His hand at work. He feels far away.

The thing about God, though, is that He doesn’t change with our circumstances. We might not feel Him, but that doesn’t mean He’s not there. It just means we don’t feel Him.

I’ve said it before, and I will say it again—to myself and anyone else who will listen. Like love, faith is a choice. It’s a choice to believe that God is who He says He is even if He feels distant or seems unconcerned.

The thing is, glorious sunrises don’t happen very often—at least not where I live. I don’t usually get out on the trail before the sun comes up during the summer, but I can think of only two times last winter when the sky was so amazing I had to stop running and take a picture.

The sun keeps rising, though. Day after day.

The older I get, the more I’m realizing that life is a journey. It’s a long walk home. It’s a long obedience in the same direction, as Eugene Peterson titled his wonderful book.

On rainy days, sunny days, days when we see evidence of God’s hand and days when all we can do is put one foot in front of another and know that tomorrow is a new day.

These are the lessons that the dawn is teaching me. They’re obvious, perhaps, but sometimes the things that are right in front of our nose—or above our heads, as the case may be—are the things we need reminded of the most.

“From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.” (Psalm 113:3)

• • •

I’m going out of town next week so I’ll be taking a short blogging break. I’ll be back in early October with new posts, including a short series about my word of the year from 2021 that I’ve been thinking about writing for much longer than that.

♥ Lois

God doesn’t change with our circumstances. We might not feel Him, but that doesn’t mean He’s not there. It just means we don’t feel Him. #Godiswithus Share on X Like love, faith is a choice. It’s a choice to believe that God is who He says He is even if He feels distant or seems unconcerned. #Godiswithus Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up with OneWord2022, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

Image by Cal Brown from Pixabay

September 20, 2022 28 comments

8 Encouraging Excerpts from 8 Years of Blogging

by Lois Flowers September 13, 2022

by Lois Flowers

Eight years ago this week, I sent my first post out into the blogosphere. So much has happened—in my life, in our country, in the world—since then. It’s almost incomprehensible, if I try to think about it all.

A blogger friend recently celebrated her seventh anniversary by posting excerpts from her top seven posts, and I thought it might be interesting to do something similar.

September 13, 2022 32 comments

Will We Cry Tears of Joy in Heaven?

by Lois Flowers September 6, 2022

by Lois Flowers

When I think of seeing my dad in heaven, I imagine a joyful reunion with much laughter. I imagine he may have a new joke or two, or perhaps want to show me some really fascinating aspects of heaven that nobody would have ever thought of here.

Maybe we’d talk about football, or a few of the more bizarre events that happened on earth after he died in 2019.

When I think of seeing my mom in heaven for the first time, though, all I can imagine myself doing is crying. To see her whole, standing up straight and tall, completely free from all the fears and worries that hampered her on earth. To hug her, to tell her how much I love her, to thank her for not holding the self-centeredness and self-absorption of my earlier years against me.

It seems like all of that would trigger an onslaught of emotion that could only be expressed in tears. It’s the only possible reaction I can imagine.

But the Bible says there won’t be any tears in heaven, right? There it is, near the end of scripture: “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and there will no longer be any death, there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain.” (Rev. 21:4, NASB)

Perhaps this has to do with tears of grief, pain and sadness. But what about tears of joy? Will our heavenly bodies not include the ability to be so happy we could cry, as the saying goes?

I kinda hope not. But let’s not take my word for it.

In his book Heaven, Randy Alcorn writes that Revelation 21:4 “primarily addresses not tears per se but the tears coming from injustice and sorrow.”

As a result, “We might shed tears of joy in Heaven,” he explains. “Can you imagine joy flooding your eyes as you meet Christ, for example, and as you’re reunited with loved ones? I can.”

We are designed by God to be emotional beings, Alcorn says, and while our feelings have been “bent by sin,” they will “forever be straightened again when God removes the Curse.”

In other words, we will be able to feel healthy emotions intensely and freely, in a way that reflects our creation in God’s image. Maybe we’ll cry actual tears, or perhaps our heavenly bodies will express emotion in a way we can’t even envision right now—a way that is different and infinitely better than what we experience here on earth.

The truth is, there are some things our human minds simply can’t know. As my dad once told me, we’re sort of like caterpillars contentedly munching away on tomato plants, with no possible way to imagine the transformation that’s about to happen to them.

“A caterpillar just can’t understand butterflies, even though it’s going to be one,” he explained. “The Bible says we don’t know what we will be like, but we will know what we will be when we see Him.”

In the meantime, we rest in knowing that “Eye has not seen, nor ear heard, nor have entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love Him.” (I Cor. 2:9, NKJV)

And we look forward to reunions with loved ones who have gone before us that are joyous and beautiful, tears or not.

♥ Lois

This post is part of a collection called Help for Parent Loss. To read more, please click here.

Will our heavenly bodies include the ability to be so happy we could cry? I kinda hope so. #tearsinheaven Share on X In heaven, we will be able to feel healthy emotions intensely and freely, in a way that reflects our creation in God’s image. #tearsinheaven Share on X

September 6, 2022 22 comments

Share Four Somethings: August 2022

by Lois Flowers August 30, 2022

by Lois Flowers

Finding my fall rhythm after my girls go back to school is always a challenge. This year, it’s been especially tricky, though I can’t put my finger on exactly why.

I’m getting things done, but something is off inside. I can feel it acutely, but other than naming a few uncharacteristic (for me) symptoms, I can’t really describe it.

August 30, 2022 24 comments

How Friends Help in Every Parenting Season

by Lois Flowers August 23, 2022

by Lois Flowers

What advice would you have for your 20-years-younger self? What is one bit of encouragement you’d give a mom with small children?

Questions like these came to mind as I sat on the floor in my basement family room, surrounded by a pile of baby outfits. Each dress, sweater and sleeper held sweet memories of my girls wearing them and the friends who gave them to us.

My goal was to reduce the amount of stuff in the storage bins, but it’s hard to be efficient and productive when such poignant family history is involved.

Lilly and Molly were nine months and 13 months old when we adopted them, so we skipped the very tiny sizes—the earliest stage of infant life when they might have slept in a bassinet on a restaurant table while Randy and I caught a quiet dinner together. (Actually, I’m not sure if this ever happens in real life, but if it does, we missed it.)

Instead, we became parents of little humans who were squirmy and engaged and brimming with personality from the day we met them.

I think back to the older friends I had during those days, the ones to whom I looked for counsel and help about how to mother these precious girls we had waited and prayed for so earnestly.

I don’t recall asking these wise women questions like the ones I thought of as I sat among the baby clothes. What I remember, mostly, is that they listened to me. They shared stories from their own lives. They assured me that I was doing a good job, even when I was certain I was not.

This was largely in the days before social media. Facebook was barely getting started, and Instagram influencer encouragement (as I call like to it) wasn’t a thing yet.

As a mom of babies, preschoolers and grade schoolers, I mostly developed relationships with other women at ladies’ Bible studies, church choir practice, MOPs, even waiting for the dismissal bell near the door of the elementary school.

Most of these people are not part of my daily life anymore, but I am thankful for the friends God gave me in each one of those seasons.

Here’s the thing, though. While there may be fewer opportunities for moms to have organized connection as our kids get older, our longing for friendship and understanding doesn’t go away when they enter middle school, when they become teenagers and especially when they go away to college.

The need for wisdom and counsel seems to grow greater too. I’ve probably started a sentence with, “What did you do when your girls …?” more times in the last year than I ever have in my life.

I’m learning firsthand that parenting older teens and young adults (and, I’m guessing, middle-aged adults too) takes a different sort of energy than parenting younger children. Not to mention a different sort of prayer—one that increasingly relies on God’s sovereign guidance in our children’s lives as our own influence becomes less directive and (hopefully) more encouraging.

The intense season of helping my own aging parents, followed by all those months of Covid shutting everything down, have reduced my world significantly. The amount of in-person connection I’ve had in recent years has been far less than it was when I was younger.

I’m OK with this, but I’ve always believed it would not be permanent.

Molly is a senior. We have one year left and then she’ll be off to college, Lord willing.

Now—more than ever—the question looms large: What next?

In my writing. In my interactions with other women, including those younger than myself. In other areas of life that I’m not even thinking about right now.

As I ponder all this in my heart, it seems more and more fitting that dawn is my word for 2022.

In the natural world, dawn isn’t instantaneous. Slowly, the sky changes until the sun finally clears the horizon and all the beautiful colors dissipate. It takes some time, but it’s also easy to miss if we’re not paying attention.

It’s the same with this kind of life transition, I think. It’s not here yet, but it will be here before we know it.

I don’t want to sound like an inspirational cliché, but I really do want to make the most of Molly’s senior year, even as I trust God to help me prepare for the empty nest.

Which is why I’m even more thankful for the example of the women in my life today who have gone this way before me. I haven’t asked any of them what they’d tell me, at this stage of my parenting life. But maybe I will. I know I’ll be encouraged by their answers.

• • •

If you have adult children, what words of wisdom do you wish someone had shared with you when you were nearing your empty nest? If your season of life is closer to mine, what is your greatest challenge, concern or joy about it?

♥ Lois

When my girls were small, my older friends listened to me and assured me that I was doing a good job, even when I was certain I was not. Share on X As moms, our longing for friendship and understanding doesn’t go away when our children enter middle school, when they become teenagers and especially when they go away to college. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with OneWord2022, #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee and Grace & Truth.

August 23, 2022 22 comments