Encouragement
The other day I was reminded of a long-ago season of waiting, sadness and disappointment.
I don’t think about those years much anymore. Back then, though, the struggle I was engaged in affected significant aspects of my life and was never far from my mind.
Perhaps you’ve been there. Perhaps, like me, you find yourself there again.
My challenge is different this time, of course. It’s not nearly as personal or intimate, and yet it’s far more emotionally taxing, if that makes any sense at all.
There are things I tell myself when the going gets especially rough. I’ve mined these bits of truth from scripture, from the rearview mirror of my own life, from watching dear ones walk through trials far greater than any I’ve ever endured.
And as I share these thoughts with you today, know that I need to hear them too.
• You will not always feel how you feel today.
• It may seem like you are the only one who has ever been where you are right now, but you’re not.
• Somehow, you will get used to your new normal.
• You will find a way to live with what Ann Voskamp calls “your one broken heart.”
• Your current struggle will not always be the last thing on your mind when you go to bed and the first thing you think about when you wake up.
• When you come out on the other side, you will be changed. Don’t try to predict it; just expect it.
• The longer you live, the more times this process will repeat itself in your life.
• God will work out what you are going through for your good and His glory.
Day by day—whatever you do and however you feel—hold fast to God and His Word. Seek out His promises. Trust in His never-ending faithfulness.
Remember: He who has begun a good work in you will complete it. He will fulfill His purpose for you. He will not abandon the work of His hands.
He is with you. He is for you. He goes before you.
Always.
Rest in these truths, my friend. I’m resting right along with you.
♥ Lois
God will work out what you are going through for your good and His glory. Click To TweetI heard a sermon about encouragement a few weeks ago.
It covered a single passage of scripture, so the application was limited to what the speaker found in those few verses. As I listened, however, it occurred to me that encouragement is not always a one-size-fits-most endeavor.
Hey there, you with the pinched brow and tired eyes. Yeah, I’m talking to you, but honestly? I’m also talking to myself.
It’s been a tough season, hasn’t it? I don’t know your specifics, and maybe you don’t know mine. But the effect those circumstances are having on your heart, body and mind? I think I can make some educated guesses, and here’s what I want to say about it.
Don’t equate how you feel today with your worth, your usefulness, your attractiveness or your future fruit-bearing potential.
Contrary to what seems very real right now, you are not your feelings. You are not your season. You are not your trial.
Yes, you might consumed by it, tired of it, overwhelmed by it, possibly even angry at it. That’s the blunt, current truth.
But let me also tell you this. It will not always be the way it is right now.
It may seem to you (and your loved ones) that your hard thing is all you ever talk about—all you ever think about—and maybe you are right. A day will come, though, when that is not the case.
Your circumstances may not change, but your perspective will. Ask anyone who has suffered great loss. The pain, the sadness and the scars may never fade completely, but life does go on.
Other parts start to fill in. The joy comes back, even.
Then along comes another trial, maybe even harder than the last. The coping muscles that you developed last time will help some, but you will grow more—perhaps in places you didn’t even know strength could exist.
This process—let’s call it the circle of faith—is spelled out in Romans 5:3-4: “Affliction produces endurance, endurance produces proven character, and proven character produces hope.”
God is still in the business of redemption, my friend, and your life is not exempt from His promises.
Hold on to that truth today. And maybe take a nap if you get the chance.
♥ Lois
God is still in the business of redemption, and your life is not exempt from His promises. Click To TweetPhoto by Esther Ware
Earlier this year, I read a blog post by someone who was packing up and moving after 38 years in the same house. The writer, Linda Stoll, wrote about depersonalizing her beloved home to prepare it for listing, and about all the memories she would leave behind when she relocates to a new address in a different state.
In the comments section, I told her that the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere (as an adult) has been five years, so I could only imagine how hard it would be to do all that work after nearly four decades in the same place.
Her response stopped me in my tracks and triggered an internal dialogue that continued for weeks.
“Five years, huh?” she wrote. “Wow, Lois, you are courageous. And maybe a bit of an adventurer like (another commenter) was just talking about!”
Out of all the words in the English language, I have never used “courageous” or “adventurer” to describe myself. Not one time.
Deep down inside, I crave security, adjust slowly to change and only take risks with great reluctance. I hadn’t realized it before, but these personal struggles and feelings strongly influenced the kind of person I thought I was. Perhaps that’s why terms like “boring,” “safe” and “structured” often come to mind when I think of myself, rather than other, more exciting adjectives.
Linda’s kind words made me recognize that just because I don’t feel courageous doesn’t mean I’m not courageous, and just because I would never think of myself as an adventurer doesn’t mean I’m not adventurous.
As I shared here, Randy and I have moved eight times in 21 years of marriage, most recently into a foreclosed house that basically needed a top-to-bottom overhaul (which Randy has done almost entirely by himself). This is just the path our residential life has taken, so I never thought of it as very adventurous.
But maybe it has been, just a little.
We’ve also been to China twice to adopt our lovely daughters. Becoming parents for the first time—in a foreign country far away from our own moms and mentors—was what it took to grow our family, so it doesn’t register very high on the courageous scale for us.
But again, maybe it was, just a little.
Thanks to Linda’s affirming words, here’s what I’m discovering:
In real life—the kind that’s lived out loud and in person—actions speak louder than emotions. When it comes to who I am, what I do is far more telling than how I feel.
And this is not just true for me, either.
Everywhere I look, I see people who show up every day, who do what’s right even when they don’t feel like it, who take hard steps for the good of someone else. Based on how they feel at any given moment—or in any given season of life—they would never think of themselves as people of great faith, kindness, patience or generosity.
But their actions speak otherwise. Quite loudly, in fact.
They’re just doing the next thing, taking what comes and trying to make the best of it, attempting to honor God with whatever little or much they have. They don’t realize that, from the outside looking in, they are living, breathing examples of faith in action, love in action, strength in action.
If you know people like this, maybe you should tell them what you see. Take it from me—you just never know the difference an affirming observation might make in someone else’s life.
And remember: Though it’s sometimes tough to believe, our feelings don’t dictate who we are, nor are they the final arbiter of truth about us.
♥ Lois
In real life—the kind that’s lived out loud and in person—actions speak louder than emotions. When it comes to who I am, what I do is far more telling than how I feel. Click To TweetP.S. I’m linking up this week with Grace & Truth, Suzie Eller at Live Free Thursday, Kelly Balarie at Purposeful Faith, Jennifer Dukes Lee at #TellHisStory and Holley Gerth at Coffee for Your Heart.
Have you ever been going about your day, minding your own business, when a friend or coworker asks if you’re feeling well or comments about how tired you look?
I don’t know about you, but when that happens to me, my reaction is instantaneous. I may have left the house that morning looking my best and feeling fabulous, but all of a sudden, I feel haggard, worn out and possibly in need of antibiotics (or at least a nice long nap).
It’s rather alarming what a few short words—even those spoken out of true concern—can do to rattle my confidence and deflate my emotions.
But it’s also amazing how a few very different words can have the opposite effect.
When my daughter Lilly was small, I saw this happen over and over as I watched her interact with strangers in public places. It didn’t matter whether we were standing in line at Fazoli’s, waiting at the customer service desk at Kohl’s or milling around the lobby at church. She’d spot a girl or woman nearby, make eye contact and then speak with the poise of a much-older kid.
“I like your shirt,” she’d say in her sweet little voice.
Or, “I like your purse.”
“I like your tattoo.”
“I like your hair.”
It made no difference how many piercings the person had, how old she was, whether her hair was blond or blue, what size she wore or whether her clothes were skimpy, ripped or outdated. Lilly always found something nice to say.
My daughter loves people and even now, as a teenager, finds compliments to be great conversation starters. Back then, however, this introverted mama wondered whether I should rein her in a bit. Was she doing it to get attention? Maybe people didn’t want to be bothered as they waited in line.
But as I observed her in action, I began to notice something.
Lilly would share her compliment, and inevitably, here’s what happened next. The girl or woman would turn to her friend and say something like, “Aw, did you hear that? That just made my day.”
Time and again, her sincere words touched the hearts of the people to whom she offered them. It was ministry in its simplest form.
And as I watched my little girl identify lovely things about the people around her and care enough to let them know, I started following her example.
While greeting at the church door on Sunday mornings, pushing my cart through the aisles at Wal-Mart or checking in for volunteer work at our elementary school, I started to pay much closer attention to the people who passed by and then comment on what I saw.
“That’s a really good color on you.”
“What a beautiful scarf!”
“I love your necklace.”
I know. A compliment from a middle-aged mom doesn’t have quite the same effect as one from a five-year-old girl with dimples and shiny black ponytails. But I know how much it means to me to hear such words, so I keep offering them.
Here’s the thing. You don’t have to say something spiritual, talk for 15 minutes, share a Bible verse or pray for someone in order to encourage her.
People like to be noticed. They like to know that someone else really sees them.
And, as I learned from Lilly, it’s easy enough to tell them.
P.S. I’m linking up this week with Kelly Balarie at Purposeful Faith, Jennifer Dukes Lee at #TellHisStory and Holley Gerth at Coffee for Your Heart.