There’s a spirea bush outside my front door that used to be in the backyard by the fence. It wasn’t really thriving there, so a few years ago, I dug it up and replanted it in the front garden.
I didn’t have high hopes for the shrub’s survival in its new spot, but I wanted to give it a chance. Happily, it seems to like it there. I didn’t really notice it much in the backyard, but now I get to enjoy delicate white flowers in the spring and pretty green leaves in the summer.
There are months that go by in a blur, and so far, November has been one of them.
I say this every time, but it’s hard to believe it’s already time to link up with Heather Gerwing for another Share Four Somethings post. But here we are, so let’s proceed.
Try as I might to feel otherwise, I was worrying about the what-ifs of a particular situation.
I was struggling, chasing my tail, vacillating between praying for God’s will to be done and foolishly wanting to ensure that my own will is done.
Every time the situation comes to mind, I need to pray about it, I thought.
A good plan, I suppose. But it actually added to my anxiousness, what with wondering what to pray and trying to “take every thought captive” when my own strength and ability to do this seemed insufficient.
As if it’s all up to me to get a handle on my fears and emotions.
In more than one passage, the Bible tells us that God knows our thoughts and the intentions of our hearts. That truth could trigger even more pressure and guilt, especially if those same thoughts are consumed with worry and anxiety. But what if we look at it a different way?
For example, when we’re worrying about tomorrow—or stressing out about what do when we start worrying about tomorrow—could it somehow help to remember that God knows every single one of these thoughts in our minds?
I think it could.
We don’t have to reiterate to him what we’re fretting about. He already knows.
We don’t have to find convincing ways to explain it, justify it or analyze it for Him. He already knows.
What we can do—what I’m finding is much easier to do than trying to replace my anxious thoughts with some kind of well-articulated prayer—is simply to say, “Help me, Jesus.”
He knows how I am formed and remembers that I am dust, after all. (Psalm 103:14) He knows that the desire of my heart is not to worry about tomorrow, even as I am doing that very thing.
I don’t know the future, but God does. I don’t know the right path, but He does.
And when I pray, “Help me, Jesus”—having no idea what that help should look like or even what the end result should be— the Holy Spirit intercedes on my behalf before our heavenly Father. (Romans 8:26-27) As one of my pastors said recently,* “It’s as if the Spirit is translating my lousy prayers into what I should really be praying.”
I don’t know about you, but I find that to be extremely comforting.
As my pastor explained, the Holy Spirit knows what God’s will is. When He intercedes for us, He’s always asking in line with God’s will, which means that it’s always for my good and for His glory. And—possibly the best news of all—“What the Spirit asks, we receive.”
In other words, when we cry, “Help me, Jesus,” He does exactly that.
Over and over again, whenever anxious thoughts start piling up in our minds, whenever what-ifs or worst-case scenarios threatens to derail us, whenever we want to write the end of the story but know it isn’t up to us.
“Help me, Jesus.”
This isn’t a one-size-fix-all remedy for fear and anxiety. But in some small-but-tangible way, it’s helping me right now. And maybe it will help you too.
♥ Lois
We don’t have to reiterate to God what we’re fretting about. He already knows. Share on X Instead of trying to replace my anxious thoughts with some kind of well-articulated prayer, I'm finding it easier simply to say, “Help me, Jesus.” Share on X* Sermon begins around 31-minute mark. The part I’m referencing is near the 49-minute mark.
P.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, Inspire Me Monday and Grace & Truth.
Happy November! I missed the Share Four Somethings deadline for October because of the Whole30. Weak excuse, perhaps, but going without sugar, grains, dairy and a few other food categories for 30 days tends to run my creative juices dry, at least near the end.
I craved cupcakes, Starbucks and pasta more than a few times, but it was a good month overall. I made chicken bone broth and chopped lots of bell peppers. I did some fall work in the flowerbeds. I’ve made some headway on a book project (more on that below) and achieved a modest running goal that seemed unreachable a few months ago.
When I was reading through the Book of James last year, I wrote about a verse that encourages us to ask God for wisdom, knowing that He gives to all generously and without finding fault.
In this post, I focused mostly on the way James 1:5 talks about God, not on wisdom. A few days later, though, I came across an answer to a question I hadn’t even asked—namely, what does the wisdom that God gives so freely actually look like?
Here’s how James 3:17 describes it: “But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere.” (ESV)
I’ve always thought of wisdom in terms of its synonyms—knowledge, good sense, discernment, insight, and so on. In my mind, it’s something I especially desire when I don’t know what to do—why else would I need to ask God for it?
That’s true, but it’s not the whole picture. The fact that James 3:17 talks about “wisdom from above” indicates that there are other types of wisdom available to us.
We can pray for wisdom all we want, but how do we determine whether the “wisdom” we’re receiving is from God, especially when we’re also seeking out information and direction from other sources, such as online and via social media?
Here’s a starting point. Wisdom from above both enables us and prompts us to act in a certain way. More specifically, it never directs us to behave or speak in a way that is opposite what we read in James 3:17.
In other words, instead of having an arrogant, argumentative, know-it-all, rough or patronizing attitude or tone, people who display godly wisdom are gentle, open to reason, merciful, impartial and sincere (as opposed to hypocritical). In addition, the thoughts they share are pure (which includes not contradicting scripture).
That’s worth pondering for a moment, isn’t it?
This can get complicated sometimes, especially in these days of continual outrage and offendability. If the people with whom we are interacting don’t like what we are saying, for example, they may interpret our tone to be harsh, judgmental or accusatory when it’s really not. Other times, though, we may think we are coming across gently when nothing could be further from the truth, no matter what we are saying.
It reminds me of what C.S. Lewis says about pride in Mere Christianity—that “there is no fault which makes a man more unpopular, and no fault which we are more unconscious of in ourselves.”
As with pride, people who mistakenly think they are operating under the influence of godly wisdom often are the least likely to see that they are not. At the same time, individuals who truly exhibit wisdom from above stand out in all the good ways.
When I think of people in my life who have displayed this kind of wisdom—my dad, mentors I had when I was a young mom, friends I have now as the mom of teenage daughters—I see that they share some similar traits.
They pray. They study the Bible. They read widely (though they don’t necessarily follow many popular voices). They give advice when asked, but don’t often offer unsolicited opinions. They don’t talk excessively, and they listen well.
This is the kind of person I aspire to be, and I also hope to see these traits develop in my daughters. It’s a lifelong process, though. I may have a bit more wisdom now than I did even a few years ago, but just as soon as I start thinking of myself as remotely wise, I’m fairly sure God will find ways to gently (or not so gently) remind how far I have to go.
I pray for my girls to have wise mentors and role models, just as I did, especially when they are far away from me. I pray that, over time, the seeds of wisdom that are already evident in them will grow, mature and bear fruit. I pray that God would teach us all to number our days, so that we may develop a heart of wisdom. (Psalm 90:12)
I pray with confidence, because if I’m sure of anything, it’s this: In this day of shortages and supply chain disruptions, there’s no shortage of wisdom from above. God is ready and willing to give it to us—generously and without finding fault.
All we have to do is ask for it.
♥ Lois
In this day of shortages and supply chain disruptions, there’s no shortage of wisdom from above. God is ready and willing to give it to us—generously and without finding fault. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, Inspire Me Monday and Grace & Truth.
In recent months, I’ve grappled with what my purpose is now that my nest is emptying. It’s still a year or two away from actually being empty, but “what next?” looms large (at least in my mind).
Perhaps this is because of that dreaded question, “What do you do?”
I love being a stay-at-home mom and homemaker. Even during the hard seasons and life phases when internal challenges were worse than external ones, I have always loved it.
Now though, with Lilly a college sophomore and Molly a high-school junior, my answer seems to fall flat. I’m 50 years old, for Pete’s sake. I should have more to say when people ask me what I do. (Shouldn’t I?)
The truth is, I’m grateful I’ve been able to stay home with my girls as they were growing up. Even though my resume has some rather large gaps in it, I wouldn’t do it differently if I had to do it again.
Beyond that, my girls still need me, albeit in different ways. Molly needs my presence; Lilly needs my words. And both of them, apparently, need my editing skills.
My girls are good students, but because they have very different academic strengths, I try to tailor my tutoring to fit the daughter in front of me.
Last fall, for example, Lilly was nearing the end of the semester and struggling to wrap her head around a final paper. During a phone conversation when she was especially frustrated, I gave her some writing tips, tried my best to encourage her and prayed for her before we said good-bye.
It helped, she texted later. “I took your suggestion and did what you said … I don’t know why, but doing what you say often actually works.”
Another day, I sat down at the dining room table with Molly and we went through a paper that she was trying to write, line by line. She was distracted by the windy conditions outside, so I had to rein her back in a few times.
I tried to teach her a few things while also retaining her unique voice. Like Lilly, she ended up with a much better paper than she had before.
The guidance I gave my girls applies whether we’re jotting down an Instagram caption, writing a rough draft, editing our own words one sentence at a time or helping someone else clarify what they want to say.
• Stick to the point. Narrow it down, don’t try to cover everything. This is easier done in shorter pieces, but it’s even more important in larger writing projects.
• Sound like yourself. Communicate in writing the same way that you talk. Molly was getting bogged down in rubrics and detailed outlines of what every sentence in her paper had to be. Just write down what you want to say and worry about rubrics later, I told her. You have a voice; use it.
• Don’t try to impress; write for your audience. This is college, Mom—it’s not high school, Lilly tells me. Yes, but you are writing a freshman paper. Sure, it’s for an honors class. But it’s not a doctoral dissertation. You are a good writer, just write. Provide the information, but keep it simple.
What’s true in writing is also true in life, I’ve found. We put so much pressure on ourselves to sound and act like we think other people think we should sound and act. Chances are, though, what they are thinking has nothing to do with us anyway. And if we know in our hearts that we are doing what God has for us right now, that’s enough.
When we run the race set before us, we can’t skip ahead to mile 23 when we’re only on mile 3. I don’t know what I’ll be doing a year from now. But I do know what I have to do today.
My girls will grow academically as they mature. It’s how the brain works as a body develops. What they are able to accomplish and understand now looks very different from what they were able to understand and accomplish in fifth grade.
The same is true for us, I think. Add a decade of life experience, and everything looks different.
Strength builds over time, one step at a time.
♥ Lois
When we run the race set before us, we can’t skip ahead to mile 23 when we’re only on mile 3. I don’t know what I’ll be doing a year from now. But I do know what I have to do today. Share on X Add a decade of life experience, and everything looks different. Strength builds over time, one step at a time. Share on XP.S. I’m linking up this week with #tellhisstory, InstaEncouragements, Recharge Wednesday, Let’s Have Coffee, Inspire Me Monday, One Word 2021 Linkup and Grace & Truth.