Author

Lois Flowers

My One Word for 2019

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

We’re all in the process of becoming who we are. 

I’m not sure if this is a direct quote or where it originated. But since I first heard it, the thought has left a deep imprint on my heart.

In recent years, I’ve been a close-up spectator (and sometime-supporting actor) as my parents have lived out the drama called the aging process. I’ve observed how they have reacted, adjusted, grown and struggled through some monumental challenges.

I’ve seen qualities I never realized they possessed shine forth like the midday sun, and I’ve seen other traits that I’ve known about all along present themselves in new and perplexing ways. It’s been an unforgettable journey, to say the least.

Through it all, I have come to care deeply about the kind of person I am becoming, the kind of person I will be when I’m old. It’s not about legacy or what people will think of me as much as it is about the example I’m setting for my children now and the character traits I hope will be present in their lives when they are my age and older.

These are new trains of thought for me, though I suspect countless others been guided by them long before they occurred to me. Once I got on board, however, I’ve been all in.

Which leads me to the real topic of this blog post—my One Word for 2019. Before I introduce my new word for the year, I usually write about the previous year’s word—what it meant to me, how it helped me, what it might look like in my life going forward.

At some point, I’ll share with you how the word bold served as a sort of North Star for my life in some very powerful ways in 2018. It continues to do so, in fact, which might be why I haven’t been able to write that post yet.

As is my custom, I started contemplating a word for this year several months ago. At first, I wondered if I would even have one. How was I going to top bold? I asked myself.

Then a new word started filtering through my mind—always in the context of what I want to be like when I’m old. I kept hoping it would go away, but I secretly knew from the start that this was to be my One Word for 2019.

Humble.

Honestly, I feel a bit sheepish even writing it. As words of the year go, it’s not very flashy or inspirational. But I’ve seen God use past words in my life in some pretty remarkable ways, so I’m OK with that.

To me, a humble person is someone who is not proud. That might seem obvious, but pride manifests itself in many ways, some more subtle than others. And the opposite of every one is colored by humility.

A humble person has her opinions and holds firmly to her most important convictions, but she doesn’t stubbornly insist that she is always right. She doesn’t think herself better than others. She doesn’t hold grudges. She doesn’t have an insatiable need to defend herself and her ideas. She doesn’t have to have the last word.

She doesn’t put her comfort level, her routine or her preferences ahead of anyone else’s. She understands that she can’t do life alone, and she is willing to acknowledge and accept that God’s plans for her might look nothing like her own plans.

I could go on, but I think you get the point. And you probably also see why I was hoping this word would just go away. None of this comes naturally to me—if you want proof, just ask my husband and daughters.

The Bible has a lot to say about humility, but the passage that most often comes to my mind is Philippians 2:3-4: “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.”

Others above self. That’s a tall order, for sure.

I’m not gonna lie—I’m a bit apprehensive about selecting humble as my word for 2019. But I was nervous about choosing bold last year and fierce the year before that, and both words have been pivotal as I continue the process of becoming who I am.

I have no idea how this is all going to play out. This time next year, however, I have a feeling I just might be saying the same thing about humble.

♥ Lois

By the way, I know I’m a little late to the party, but if you’ve chosen a word for 2019, I’d love to know what it is (and maybe even why you chose it).

Others above self. That’s a tall order, for sure. Share on X A humble person doesn’t put her comfort level, her routine or her preferences ahead of anyone else’s. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Purposeful Faith, #TellHisStory, Let’s Have Coffee, Faith on Fire, Faith ‘n Friends and Grace & Truth.

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If You Need Hope This Christmas

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

This Christmas season, I’ve felt the thrill of hope in a very real way.

There’s a surge of something—I can’t quite describe it—that goes through me when I get a bit of good news or when the fog clears and the way ahead becomes more obvious. It’s not just emotional or mental; there’s almost a physical sensation attached to it.

When I feel the thrill of hope, my weary old self really does rejoice, just like the song says.

These days, as I try to savor the holidays while navigating some difficult challenges, the thought of hope is never far from my mind. I’ve been reminding myself that, as much as I desire a smooth path and encouraging answers, my ultimate hope doesn’t lie in a particular outcome, event or circumstance.

I don’t know what’s going on in your heart this holiday season, but perhaps you could use some reminding too.

Friends, our hope doesn’t come from a clean house, a regular routine or a completed to-do list. It’s in God, the One who steadies the pillars of the earth. (Psalm 75:3)

Our hope doesn’t come from antibiotics, antidepressants or medical insurance. It’s in God, the strength of our heart and our portion forever. (Psalm 73:26)

Our hope doesn’t come from a good sermon, a worshipful song or a meaningful devotional. It’s in the God who acts on behalf of the ones who wait for Him. (Isaiah 64:4)

Our hope doesn’t lie in more Twitter or Instagram followers, more Facebook friends or more blog subscribers. It’s in the God who lifts our heads and fulfills His purposes for us. (Psalm 3:3, Psalm 57:2)

Our hope doesn’t come from words of affirmation, offers of help or overtures of support. It’s in the God who goes before us and is with us, who will never leave us nor forsake us. (Deuteronomy 31:8)

Our hope is not met by a political party, election results or whoever lives in the White House. It’s in the King of heaven who lives forever and rules over the kingdom of men. (Daniel 4)

Our hope isn’t in the stock market, financial freedom or a holiday bonus. It’s in the God who supplies all our needs “according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19)

Our hope doesn’t come from perfectly fitting jeans, perfectly executed plans or perfectly behaved children. It’s in the God who works wonders and is near to all who call out to Him. (Psalm 77:14, Psalm 145:18)

Our hope isn’t in a healthy diet plan, a good night’s sleep or favorable  weather. It’s in the God who is a shield to those who take refuge in Him. (Proverbs 30:5)

Finally, especially at this time of year, our hope doesn’t come from Advent candles, festive decorations or happy family celebrations. It’s found in Christ alone, the One who is and forever will be our Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Eternal Father and Prince of Peace. (Isaiah 9:6)

Friends, let’s rest in that hope—as we celebrate Christmas, and also as we turn the calendar page to a brand new year.

♥ Lois

When I feel the thrill of hope, my weary old self really does rejoice, just like the song says. Share on X
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What I Learned This Fall

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Life is happening, prompting me to take an unscheduled break from blogging these last few weeks. There’s a lot crowding my mind and my schedule right now, so rather than stress about when I was going to squeeze in time to write, I just let it go.

I’m in full-on, do-the-next-thing mode, on multiple fronts. I have no endings to share—happy or otherwise; the stories are still being written. I’m waiting, watching, helping, trusting and praying—always praying, especially in the middle of the night.

Thanks to my daughters’ holiday spirit and a November blizzard that kept us homebound a few Sunday afternoons ago, my whole house is decorated for Christmas. Before I wave goodbye to fall once and for all, however, I’m going to ease back into blogging by jotting down a few realizations from the season just past.

• I love fall, but fall is hard for me.

Fall is when I start to sleep better. Fall is when everything gets cozy and nesting begins in earnest. Fall is when the Holy Spirit slips my new OneWord for the coming year into my mind (more on that in the coming weeks).

But fall also tends to be exhausting, discouraging and depleting for me, though I can’t fully explain why. And when I’m in the middle of this, it helps me to remember: I’ve been here before. This too shall pass.

• I don’t handle stress as well as I thought.

I’m trying to do better, and I’m grateful for the grace my family extends to me when I’m frayed and frazzled. When my girls are grown, though, I hope they are more inclined to remember the times I apologized after overreacting rather than the overreactions themselves.

• When you have every reason to believe the upcoming season is going to be easy (or at least easier than it was last year), don’t hold on to that expectation too tightly.

If we were seated across the table from one another at a comfy coffee shop, I’d explain how this has played out in my life recently. But I have a feeling you might understand what I mean, even without further elaboration.

• Help is my new love language.

For me, love languages are all tied up in the understanding that someone is thinking of me—enough to call, to text, to send a card, to buy me something her or she knows I would love, and now, to offer to help.

This help thing is something I’m just realizing about myself as I’ve been juggling the balls of caring for my family, supporting my dad and trying to see my mom when my dad can’t. Even if my only answer is, “Please pray,” when a friend inquires about how she can help, a piece of my burden rises off my heart and drifts away knowing she cared enough to ask.

• Snow on fall foliage is beautiful.

I didn’t take any pictures of our rather unusual mid-November weather because I simply wanted to enjoy it while it was happening. But red, orange and yellow leaves peeking out from under a blanket of white is truly something to behold.

• I miss blogging when I skip a week or three.

It’s true, dear readers. I have missed writing and interacting with you here. This realization has been a blessing, because there have been times this year when I’ve wondered if I still had the desire and/or the gumption to continue blogging.

Turns out, I do. I haven’t been writing much lately, but I have been thinking—a lot. And I’m very much looking forward to fleshing some of those thoughts out and sharing them with you soon.

• • •

That’s my list. What did you learn this fall?

♥ Lois

When my children are grown, I hope they are more inclined to remember the times I apologized after overreacting rather than the overreactions themselves. Share on X

P.S. I’m linking up this week with Emily Freeman, Let’s Have Coffee, #TellHisStory, Faith on Fire, Faith ‘n Friends and Grace & Truth.

Photo by Molly Flowers
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One Thing We Can Know For Sure Today

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

When my girls were small, we used to listen to a CD of Bible verses put to music. One of my favorites was based on Psalm 56:4-5a—“When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise.”

The point of these songs, of course, is to give children a fun way to memorize scripture. But the added benefit for me, as the parent, was that I learned the verses too. Quite well, apparently, as I still sing the verse from Psalm 56 in my head when the cares and stresses of life start making it hard for me to breathe.

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Remembering Eugene Peterson

by Lois Flowers
by Lois Flowers

Like so many others, my heart has been touched as I’ve read accounts of Eugene Peterson’s last days, final words and spiritual influence.

I appreciate his contributions to Christendom, of course—the 85-year-old retired pastor was the bestselling author of The Message Bible and A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, among many other notable titles.

But the fact that he died shortly after entering hospice care for “advanced and progressing” heart failure and dementia hits much closer to home for me. The way his son Eric described Peterson’s decline doesn’t speak to me merely as someone who is vaguely familiar with his well-known father, but also as a daughter who understands how hard it is to watch a once-vibrant parent go down the sad road of dementia.

A few months ago, I quoted Peterson in a blog post titled “When You’re Not on Fire for Jesus.” The words I included—about worship being an act that develops feelings for God (not the other way around)—appear near the beginning of A Long Obedience.

Ironically, I own this book but had never read it. I pulled the quote from a church bulletin where it was printed at the top of a sermon outline.

But when my blogger friend Michele commented that she had underlined part of the quote I shared in her copy of A Long Obedience to the point where she was “likely to wear through the paper,” I decided it was time I checked the book out for myself.

I couldn’t find my copy, so I requested it from my local library. When it finally came—from a library in San Antonio, of all places—I began a slow and deliberate journey with Peterson through the Psalms of Ascent.

I had recently read Mere Christianity for the first time, and my mind was hungry for another book that emphasized spiritual disciplines and scriptural truths rather than the personal experiences and feelings of the author. A Long Obedience provided exactly that.

It’s amazing to think that this work—subtitled “Discipleship in an Instant Society”—was originally published in 1980, considering how relevant it is to our culture today. I obviously couldn’t mark up the library book, so I took to posting my favorite bits of wisdom and perspective on Twitter.

• From the chapter titled “Providence” (Psalm 121):

“Do you think the way to tell the story of the Christian journey is to describe its trials and tribulations? It is not. It is to name and to describe the God who preserves, accompanies and rules us.”

• On security, or how “God Encircles His People” (Psalm 125):

“My feelings are important for many things. … They keep me aware of much that is true and real. But they tell me next to nothing about God or my relation to God. My security comes from who God is, not from how I feel.”

• The amazing fact that “God sticks with us” (Psalm 129):

“The central reality for Christians is the personal, unalterable, persevering commitment God makes to us. Perseverance is not the result of our determination, it is the result of God’s faithfulness.”

• Quoting Charles Spurgeon in the chapter about humility (Psalm 131):

“It is a blessed mark of growth out of spiritual infancy when we can forgo the joys which once appeared to be essential, and can find our solace in him who denies them to us.”

• Powerful perspective on feelings (Psalm 134):

“Humphrey Bogart once defined a professional as a person who ‘did a better job when he didn’t feel like it.’ That goes for a Christian too. Feelings don’t run the show. There is a reality deeper than our feelings. Live by that.”

I reached the final page of A Long Obedience right around the library’s non-renewable due date. I was sad to part with it; it was one of those books that almost seem like a good friend by the time you’re done with it.

Then yesterday, after learning of Peterson’s death, I looked on my bookshelf and there it was—right in front of me. I don’t know how I missed it before, but I’m looking forward to reading it again, free this time to highlight and underline to my heart’s content.

♥ Lois

There is a reality deeper than our feelings. Live by that. ~ Eugene Peterson Share on X
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