Here’s a haul of some brief, spoiler-free book reviews on the rest of my reads from 2022 (see part one here). I hope to — 1) help my own mind process and reflect on what… More
Do you ever conquer your to-do list, but forget to do the things — like scramble eggs for breakfast or host a small group — with love? For love? In love?
After studying I Corinthians 13 this summer, I’ve been face-to-face with convicting encouragement. It doesn’t matter how impressive the day’s work, if it’s not accomplished with love, God considers it profitless.
If I mop all my floors and bake sourdough – but do it with an irritable heart toward another, it profits me zero. If I give my best efforts only when I feel like it, or when it blesses me, then what will this accomplish? If I share my possessions with the needy, but am impatient about it, this counts for nothing.
If we can exegete Scripture and discuss heady doctrines around the dinner table, but secretly rejoice when someone is humiliated for their sin, the mysteries I understand have not pierced my heart.
If I check all the “good Christian” boxes, but boast and insist on my own way, trampling others’ feelings and preferences, then how will unbelievers or believers see Christ?
If I become a clanging cymbal in the 20 minutes before guests arrive . . . then I’ve sent a message that it’s not really about the people in my home, it’s about my put-togetherness.
Others do not feel loved by noisy gongs. I often forget, as Myquillyn Smith said, “Hosting is never about the host, and hospitality is never about the home.” I have been deeply ministered to by imperfect hosts with Christlike, gracious hearts.
One of my favorite homes belongs to my sister who demonstrates a special gift in hospitality. If you’ve been in her little house, you know. She creates the perfect personalized coffee, iced or hot, but also asks the deep questions to glimpse how my soul is doing. I enjoy both edifying conversation and a landscape of curated art and timeless style. I know both she and her home are a work in progress. I know she sacrificed to prepare for my company, and the dancing candle is only one sign. But, if I drop by without giving her much notice, I still receive a big welcome, a listening ear, and a love that shares all she has been given.
Yes, love pursues excellence with all the energy God’s gifted, but the ministry of presence is effective even if there’s food in my drain, junk mail on the counter, or wilting plants on the shelf. Love is the ingredient needed for lasting meaning in our ministry of hospitality and service, and it starts with a willing, abiding heart.
So do I have to do something perfectly for it to “count?” No, nothing we can do will ever earn Christ’s love. If I’m not in Christ, I gain nothing, I am nothing. God is love, and if we are not in Him, we are a dead branch, unable to produce. But if we are walking in the Spirit, these fruits of love and patience will blossom in our attitudes and actions. Our entire motivation changes.
For the love of Christ controls us, having concluded this, that one died for all.2 Corinthians 5:14
When you’re tucked into gospel-love, success and even completion look different. His imperative and invitation is that we abide in love, so it’s not a doing, it’s a being. It’s not really about a to-do list, but being compelled by our love for God to walk in the homely or beautiful works He prepared for us.
He always desires a heart posture, not a show. When we have guests for dinner, I sometimes go to the lengths of making a garlicky, basil dressing from scratch. After the prayer for our meal, my sweet husband will get up from the table and begin to offer our company the ketchup, BBQ sauce, and bottled dressings.
To be honest, I’ve wanted to chide him later: “But honey, I had everything on the table that we needed! And the salad was already dressed.” But even more than striving for the aesthetic image, I appreciate the way my husband displays his deep care for people and desire to serve them. And do you know what? A troupe of condiments always makes guests feel more at home. Chick-fil-a sauce never fails to produce a laugh, a symbol of down-to-earth commonality. And, I must admit, the potato wedges taste a lot better with it.
Whether you’re called to love others with dressing homemade or bottled, let Love compel you to walk for His glory alone. As we strike items from our to-do list, or share our imperfect homes, let’s aim for eternal profit. The Spirit’s kindness, patience, and joy will shine through as we abide in Him.
Nothing is accomplished when I worry about my life. It never added a cubit to my stature and, as Corrie Ten Boom said, “Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow. It empties today of its strength.” Whenever I begin imagining the worst, I remind myself – grace isn’t going anywhere. The Lord’s character won’t change in time for tomorrow’s storm. He’s steadfast and sufficient for whatever path or valley.
I know worrying about myself is a fruitless pastime. Here’s the problem. Sometimes it feels more helpful to worry on the behalf of others. Perhaps because I feel even more powerless when it comes to my family and friends. Maybe because at times I feel concern for someone younger in the faith, or more vulnerable physically, or a child in my line of responsibility.
Trust isn’t always just about me and the Lord. Souls of others are often involved. But isn’t it inconsistent to trust God for my own future, but stress about someone else’s?
I’m writing this down because the irony of these words makes me thank God for His tremendous landscape of care for each person I care about.
Think of it this way. Someone I love is near the overseas war-zone, but I forget he is tucked in God’s solid sovereign plan? A friend is saved by lavish grace, but I’m anxious about her weighty decisions she must make? My brother-in-Christ is a co-heir with the Prince of Peace, and I wonder if God will provide for his next season? My family member is loved enough that the Lamb died for her, but will the great I Am see her through a new medical diagnosis?
The glorious reality is this: God is completing a good work in each of us and will be faithful to complete it. Will I “believe all things, hope all things, endure all things” as I wait and watch for God’s work in their lives?
There are many ways we can encourage, admonish, teach, and minister to our fellow believers in their sanctification journey, but anxiety isn’t an effective practice. God’s dear children have rich promises to claim whether they fully realize them or not! This old hymn re-sung by Selah draws this out:
“Some through the water, some through the flood
Some through the fire, but all through the blood
And some through great sorrow, but God gives the song
In the night season and all the day long
Sometimes on the mount where the sun shines so bright
Sometimes in the valley, in darkest of night
Though sorrows befall us and Satan oppose
Through grace we can conquer, defeat all our foes
God leads His dear children along.”
Even if He designs a harder season for someone we love, it’s such a comfort to entrust them to the Chief Shepherd. We can count on His faithfulness to His Bride, to each member of His church He is building.
As you pray for and encourage your parent/sibling/friend to listen to the Holy Spirit, you can trust that He will direct them as He is acknowledged (Prov. 3:6).
“You have dealt well with Your servant, O Lord, according to Your word.”
We need not worry or stress for the future of God’s servants. When the opportunity to trust on others’ behalf arises, remember He deals well with His servants (maybe not always according to us, but always according to His Word!). His grace is sufficient for each, and what a wonderful opportunity to anchor our trust deeper in a worthy God.
Only a hopeless optimist — who is also an amateur gardener — would water a rose bush for as long as I have. I believe it was dead even before I pulled it from its terracotta pot and planted it, much too late. Still, I persist in watering the wilted blooms alongside the snapdragons, in a flailing aspiration that the muted green will revive into pink blossoms again.
I don’t recommend this kind of false gardening hope, but as I stared at the faded remains of roses, I thought of the unfaded faith I desire to apply to my prayers. Sometimes my pleas to God feel too cliché to reach beyond our ceiling. They feel like tired words, as I request a glorious outcome from the same old verbiage. They feel like I’m watering a rose that can never come back to life.
But God. He is mercy. He hears our weakly worded prayers, and His spirit utters groanings too deep for words on our behalf.
When my prayers feel about as useful as watering dead roses, He is listening, inviting mustard-seed faith. Speak to Him in confidence and trust, for nothing is harder for God than something else. NOTHING. There are no levels of impossibility for Him. He can make dry bones come alive.
A few pages ago in my prayer notebook, Roe V. Wade stood at the top of my list for prayers for our country. Completely surprised at God answering like He did, now I wish I would have pushed into deeper prayer for the fight for life in the womb. Why didn’t I ask with greater expectancy, knowing God could indeed choose to work in this way against the odds? My praise and excitement would be more personal now if I had labored more in prayer with hope and trust. The prayers never felt like frontline work, but prayer is always battling where it matters most.
“With all prayer and petition pray at all times in the Spirit, and with this in view, be on the alert with all perseverance and petition for all the saints.” Ephesians 6:18
When all around appears wilted, and you have only the strength to utter a few overfamiliar sentences to God, remember WHO you’re sending them to. He moves mountains for His children. His graciousness is always on display. His Sovereignty holding all things as we:
“Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer.”
I am not much of a gardener, but I hope to become one, a good one, eventually. First, I must cut through the fog of intimidation at trying something new.
Talk of soil, zones, timing, and types of plants can cause overwhelm for the ones who haven’t pursued a green thumb. Questions prick like thorns.
Have I missed the window for planting my favorite flower? How much money should I invest in annuals and where should I place the perennials? Will the mint take over? What if I change my mind about landscaping? Is it worth all the weeding?
Overhearing garden talk everywhere, I’ve begun to realize nothing can go too terribly wrong if I just plant a seed. Seeds are to plant. I can’t design their sprout, but I can put a little earth on top and pour water on it.
We poked little holes in our soil boxes, and I wasn’t sure how many to put in each hole, or if the sun would be too harsh, or if I’d be faithful to follow up. But I had to try. Humbled at my lack of knowledge, I appreciated the fact I had no control as to whether this tinsey seed would germinate where I attempted to place it. It all seemed like a shot in the dark, but a profound one. Then it occurred to me how biblical the planting process is.
God requires a similar faith in obedience of missional seed planting. I Corinthians 3:5-9–
“What then is Apollos? And what is Paul? Servants through whom you believed, even as the Lord gave opportunity to each one. I planted, Apollos watered, but God was causing the growth. So then neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but God who causes the growth. Now he who plants and he who waters are one; but each will receive his own reward according to his own labor. For we are God’s fellow workers; you are God’s field, God’s building.”
As I sprinkle water on the tiny creations I’m caring for, I hope I’ll remember the real seed-planting partnership I’m called to. The Lord graciously gives opportunities to obey and speak the gospel in season and out of season, planting and watering seeds like Paul and Apollos. But God alone will determine the future of each one’s growth. We each will receive our own reward, and it won’t depend on the outcome of the seed’s growth, but on our obedient response in faith.
We may not ever see the results. In Barbara Cooney’s picture book Miss Rumphius, she tells the story of the “Lupine Lady” who cast seeds throughout her town in order to make it a more beautiful place. From her seeds, lupines delighted generations after she was gone. She simply scattered seeds along her pathway.
This summer let’s pray for chances to drop seeds in the gaping holes of emptiness we come across on our own pathways. To have His Word ready on our tongues, to labor in the heat of the desert, to plant where it seems barren. Work with our fellow forgiven workers, understanding the significant insignificance of our actions in the light of God’s sovereignty.
Everywhere we look is the field. At the park, at the thrift store, at the neighborhood bbq, at our front door. As the Lord’s servants, let us not freeze up in overwhelm that it may be too early or too late for planting. Let us not fear if we don’t know the right amount of seeds or the science of the soil. Let us not doubt the seed may be too microscopic to even produce a blossom.
Because God owns the field. We are fellow gardeners with Him, and what a privilege. The time is now to share about His goodness and the need to be saved from sin. There is a peace (and a reward!) in obedience, knowing we plant and water, but God controls the weather, the soil, and the fruit.
re-reading old favorites
a bouquet fit for a bride in my vase
running low on bookshelf space
a game of pool
catching the coffee bus
preparing for a sweet bride with lace and all manner of white and shininess
celebrating graduates, mothers, birthdays and new friendships
feeding snacks to a carseat-bound baby
meeting new cousins
Painted Bear … a shop full of wood and mountain art pieces
learning about deep family history from Grandma
a blanket of Colorado snow
puzzle race and banana splits
sick baby cuddles
our little family together again at last
hosting a birthday tea for a Proverbs 31 woman (my mom)
rainy day play
gratefulness for freedom
learning about the book of Malachi
siblings who will play your favorite games (because I only own my favorites anyway)
new cleaning supplies
staring up at flowery explosions in hanging pots
remembering simple truths like,
We lose joy in service to God when we lose the heart of worship.