Devotional, Just Write, Uncategorized

Enough Trouble for Today

One of my favorite passages to come back to in busy seasons is Matthew 6:25-34. The whole section is about how we don’t need to worry and be anxious in life because God knows our needs and cares for us. It ends with this verse:

“Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.” (Matthew 6:34)

In another translation that last sentence says: “Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

This is one of the phrases God brings to mind in seasons of my life when my to-do list seems overwhelming or I’m worrying too much about things in the future instead of what’s right in front of me. In those times, one of my favorite things to do is to take a piece of paper and write that verse at the top of it. Then, I draw a line down the middle and on the left column I write “Today”. The right column is then titled, “Not Today.” I start sorting out all the things I need to do in one category or the other. Having a space for the “Not Today” items helps me feel peace that I won’t forget them, while giving space to focus on the “Today” items.

This idea of not borrowing trouble from tomorrow is nothing new to me. However, God recently brought this passage to mind… but in reverse. Not only should we resist borrowing trouble from tomorrow… but we also should work to not ADD trouble to tomorrow as well. He challenged me to deal with today’s troubles in order to set myself up for success when tomorrow becomes today.

Troubles delayed = troubles multiplied.

Here’s an example: A few weeks ago I made a large meal for some people that involved using a roaster, three crock-pots, and other various dishes and bowls. When I got them all home, washing all of those dishes was the LAST possible way I wanted to spend my Friday evening. However, if I would have left those crockpots and roaster and serving utensils until Saturday, everything would have gotten hard and more difficult to clean. To keep the example going, left even longer, those dishes might have started to smell or even get moldy. What was an annoying but small “trouble” on Friday would have become a much bigger “trouble” days later.

And I’m not just talking about dishes.

If I leave that conflict with a coworker unresolved and keep putting off the tough conversation that needs to happen, bitterness makes me hard and resentment starts to grow like mold.

If I experience a stressful season in life or a traumatic situation but choose to ignore how it’s impacting me instead of walking through the hard, I “steal” from a future “tomorrow” and add to its troubles. That stress will eventually come back to the surface, my body will eventually revolt and I’ll be forced to deal with it along with whatever troubles that day already had going for it.

If I don’t face the sin in my life today and ruthlessly cut it out, seeking God’s grace and forgiveness, it will grow deeper in my soul deceiving me and hurting the people around me.

Don’t borrow from tomorrow’s trouble with worry and anxiety. But also don’t add to tomorrows trouble by ignoring what you need to take care of right now. Whether it be dishes or disease, laundry or loss, sorting socks or suffocating sin, we need to deal with today’s troubles.

“Sufficient for the day it its own troubles”

and sufficient is our God to help us deal with them… TODAY. 

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Bekah's Heart, Thyroid, transition

Though I sit in darkness…

“But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me. Do not gloat over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light!” (Micah 7:7-8)

Social media has pros and cons but one of my favorite elements is the way in which it allows you to easily look back. Through things like TimeHop or Facebook memories I can see little glimpses into years past, reminders of the good times and the hard.

The last few weeks have proved fascinating whenever I click on the “memories” section, especially the most recent years. I didn’t remember until now just how hard each of the last two years started out.

January of 2018 was month number two of a six-month waiting period trying to figure out what was wrong with my body. Tracking every symptom, painful biopsies, countless doctor’s visits, wondering and waiting to find out if I had cancer only to be told over and over again, ‘we don’t know’. I was in a place of fighting for peace and for joy. I was determined, but also many days, defeated.

Fast forward to January of 2019. Surgery was seven months past and the initial wounds caused by removing half of a vital organ from my body were well on their way to being an easily-forgotten scar. However, the impact of removing that organ caused complete chaos in my body physically, mentally, and emotionally. I went from being under-medicated in the months directly after surgery to now grossly over-medicated causing muscle weakness, extreme fatigue, anxiety, depression, and literally dozens of other symptoms. Because my body was weak and exhausted so many of the ways I generally dealt with stress and the emotional impacts weren’t options as they made the physical symptoms worse. Every day was a fight to get out of bed and there was nothing more I could do than what I already was besides wait for the hormones in my body to balance out.

January 2020. I found myself reflecting to a friend, “I think it’s been over 2 years since I felt this healthy. Life is not at all without its challenges right now, but I’m doing so well and it feels so good.” When I made that comment I was mainly referring to new life-giving rhythms I recently found. Between the health challenges of 2018 and 2019, attempting to buy a house (and then not buying a house), and the transition to a new job across the country far from most of my support system, rhythms and routines had been seriously lacking for a really long time in my life.

Christmas break provided a reset and suddenly I now find myself weeks into some sustainable ways to connect with God and friends and care for my body and exercise and de-stress. Facebook Memories keeps confirming the reality day after day that it’s not just daily rhythms that have been restored in this new season… my whole being has. In the looking back I see glimpses and reminders of how hard and painful those days really were. Even some posts that may have looked positive to others, documenting the determined fight for joy, I recall how much of a fight it really took to make that a reality in a given day.

While I’ve only recently discovered this verse from Micah it’s been sweet to look back and see how this is a prayer God answered.

“But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me. Do not gloat over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will rise. Though I sit in darkness, the Lord will be my light!” (Micah 7:7-8)

In those stumbling days of 2018 and the darkest days of 2019, I heard the Lord whisper (mainly through my friends and family): “Though you have fallen, you will rise. Though you sit in darkness, I will be your light!”

Some days I couldn’t believe Him. (And that’s when I’m thankful for the friends who held out hope for me.) But our ever-faithful God came through!

Great is His faithfulness! His mercies are new every morning! Therefore, I too, dared to hope! (Lamentations 3:21:23)

My enemy, Satan, did not win. The one determined to take me down by attacking the most vulnerable parts of me, only forced me to lean in closer to my Savior. I won’t say I didn’t sometimes believe his lies that I’d never be effective in ministry again or that I’d always be in pain or depressed. But instead of taking me out of the game, those seasons just stripped away some unhealthy aspects of the way I did life and ministry and made me stronger yet. Instead of the enemy gloating over me, I now can do that over him!

Though I fell, I have now risen.

Though I stumbled in the darkness, the Lord was and IS my light.

Hard times will come again, that I know for sure, “But as for me, I watch in hope for the Lord, I wait for God my Savior; my God will hear me.”

Amen. Let it be so!

Until that day when we rise from death and pain forever. Until the day when darkness ceases for good. I watch and wait in hope.

Amen and amen!

Just Write

A Soul Solstice

I found myself recently pondering the winter solstice. Actually, I found myself pondering the day AFTER winter solstice.

Somewhere around December 21 each year (in the Northern Hemisphere anyway) we experience the shortest day of the year, with the least amount of sunlight.  From that point forward the days start having a little bit more sun and a little less dark. Coming home from work and it already being dark out is never fun. I love the day after winter solstice, the day that marks the start of longer days. It’s as if the world takes a deep breath and hope starts to grow.

As I reflected on this I thought about the hard times in life… the times that seem like they’ll never end… the dark days of winter in life. I think about the moments after a loved one dies when the family and friends feel like the days just get darker and darker as they continue to grieve. I consider a friend who has been battling trauma and sufffering for more years than I even know, and just when it seems to settle, the darkness sets in again. I wonder about how many people around the world found out some horrible news today that will change their lives forever and a dark shadow was cast. We’ve all experienced (or will) at one time or another… the seasons when winter never seems to end.

But there is hope.

The day after the darkest day will come.

I was brought to tears recently as I heard a friend say, for perhaps the first time in 18 months, “I’m doing so well.” Her life is not perfect and the pain of this long “winter” season is not completely over with, but the days are getting longer, brighter… there is more light each day. There is hope.

In an earthly sense, winter will come again. It’s a cycle we can depend on. Winter turns into spring, into summer, into fall, and back to winter. On the emotional side of things we can predict this cycle as well… we will face hard times again. As long as we live on this earth, that is a given. But the cycle of literal seasons give us hope that spring will come again in the emotionally hard seasons. Also, there is hope for the day when that cycle will break and the light will grow ever brighter into eternity.

“Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth, for the old heaven and the old earth had disappeared. And the sea was also gone.  … I heard a loud shout from the throne, saying, “Look, God’s home is now among his people! He will live with them, and they will be his people. God himself will be with them.He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.” … And the city has no need of sun or moon, for the glory of God illuminates the city, and the Lamb is its light. The nations will walk in its light, and the kings of the world will enter the city in all their glory.” Revelation 21: 1-4, 23-24

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Intentionality, Mental Health, transition

The Best Intentions

In my new career working at a university I get this weird thing called a “Christmas Break”. The concept is slightly foreign after nearly a decade of working in a church where the end of December and beginning of January were some of my busiest weeks of the year with all the Christmas activities often followed by a young adult trip.

Heading into 12 days away from work, I wanted to use the time off well. I wanted to be intentional about resting, being renewed, spending time with people I love, and preparing for whatever crazy things 2nd semester might hold. After a week in Kansas with family, I headed back to Nebraska to enjoy five days, at home, with nowhere I had to be an nothing specific to do. Yet, I didn’t want to waste that time. The concept of intentionality kept popping up again and again.

On a whim the week before I had ordered a 52-week journal that focused on a different theme for each week. Topics range from patience to productivity, healthy boundaries to guilt and shame. However, as the journal arrived in the mail and I opened up to the first week, I almost laughed at topic #1: “intentional living”. Perhaps this theme of intentionality was a bigger deal in my current life than I first thought.

I began filling out the first page thinking about the week ahead…. goals, gratitude lists, a section for prayer. But I stopped when I got to a prompt to write out an “intention” for the week. While I’ve considered the concept of intentionality a lot (and even spent a whole month in 2012 blogging about it), I don’t know if I’ve ever focused much on the shorted version: “intention”. I actually went and looked it up in an online dictionary. The first definition describing “an aim or plan” helped me figure out what I might write as my intention for the week. But it was the second definition, a medical one, that caught my eye:

“the healing process of a wound” 

Exploring a bit more, I found this related explanation:

“the manner or process by which a wound heals” 

My first thought: “this doesn’t just apply to physical wounds”.

Minutes before this discovery, I had just gotten off the phone with a friend, celebrating some miraculous healing that had happened recently in her life. And when I say miraculous, I don’t mean it happened overnight or without any effort. Rather, it’s been months that have gone into years of hard, dare I say intentional, work. It brought tears to my eyes to know, in her life and mine, that intention truly is the process by which a wound heals.

I then thought about many conversations I’ve had this semester with students struggling to overcome hard things in their past or current lives. As a culture we’ve adopted this mentality that “time heals all things”, and yet, so often, time passes and our wounds still keep bleeding out. Every once in a while the circumstances of life allow for those hurts to scab over a bit and we think everything is better. However, the slightest situation can rip it clean open again when we least expect it. Time, with intention though… intentionally processing what has happened, intentionally caring for ourselves, intentionally doing the things that bring true long-term healing not a temporary fix… that helps shift our wound into a scar.

I don’t think it’s any mistake that God brought this theme into my life for this season.

Practically, I already knew I needed to focus in a be more intentional with the time God’s gifted me in this season. However, this second definition reminded me of the other areas where some healing has started but needs some intentional attention.

I think of the physical healing journey I’ve been on since November of 2017 when I got the news that something wasn’t right with my thyroid. What a joy it is to now be in an overall healthy physical place, but there is still some emotional healing that needs to take place from the trauma of that experience in order to move on and enjoy my body for what it is.

I’m reminded of the grief that sneaks in when I least expect it over having left the incredible community I enjoyed for nine years in Buffalo and moved to Nebraska this summer. I consider the situations where I hurt people in that transition process and need some intention to fight for restoration. I want to be intentional about investing in a new community here. I desire to let gratitude be the intention, the process, by which the wounds of that move heal.

Intention. Intentional. Intentionality. Intent. 

All of these come from the Latin root intentio which means ‘a stretching out’. The healing intention may not be easy, stretching us outside of our comfort zone, but the process it worth it. Intent implies deliberateness and focus. As I look ahead, I want the season before me to be filled with just that. I want to be intentional with my time, with my relationships, with my healing, with my hope. I pray that my deliberate focus may lead to healing intention in others as well.

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Just Write, transition

On Pain, Change, and Trust

I was talking with a friend back at the beginning of this year and he mentioned how he had been learning that only when our pain is greater than our fear will we be able to make positive changes in our lives. It was fascinating to hear him say that because I was wrestling at the time with a similar concept but from a different perspective.

I had been thinking about the concept of self-control and how to do the things that we want to do but somehow find so hard to do. (Romans 7 kind of stuff.) Just as an easy-to-understand example, let’s look at the ever-popular topics of eating health and exercise, especially popular this time of year! I think we all pretty much know that eating certain foods and staying away from others is how our bodies function best. We all know that finding ways to move more and get enough sleep helps us. We want to feel healthy … and yet we keep grabbing the sugar and skipping the exercise and cutting down the hours of sleep to pack more in our busy lives.

So how do we get to a point where change is possible and our resolutions don’t fall short on January 3. As the conversation with my friend suggested, sometimes pain is a great motivator. The diagnosis of a health condition, the threat of losing a job, the inability to play with kids… these are pains that sometime can force us into life change.

But I had been trying to figure out if there were other ways. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want pain to be the only way I can have positive change in life. Shaming ourselves (or others) doesn’t typically work and “just try harder” is possibly the worst advice anyone could ever give. But what DOES work? I was stuck… how do we embrace lives of self-control and discipline while still living in the freedom that actually leads to LIFE and not slavery to a system?

And suddenly I stumbled upon an idea, pieced together over a few days. Paul says it this way in Romans:

“But the people of Israel, who tried so hard to get right with God by keeping the law, never succeeded. Why not? Because they were trying to get right with God by keeping the law instead of by trusting him. …” (Romans 9:31-32 NLT)

It makes me wonder… when our TRUST in God is bigger than our fear perhaps that ALSO leads to freedom, change, and abundant life.

As this concept processed through my brain I was reminded of this quote from Jessica Honegger:

“Self-control is really about these moment-by-moment choice we have to believe God. Do we believe that God is who He says He is and that He is enough?”

I heard that quote in a livestream of an if:gathering conversation last February between her and other women including Ruth Chou Simons who followed it up with:

“Self control is a fruit of the Spirit. It’s God’s work; you can’t muster it up. Don’t keep trying to staple fruit onto your tree. Hide and abide yourself in Christ.”

Self-control is probably one of the least popular fruits of the Spirit. We all want things like peace and love and joy… but self-control… hmmm maybe I’ll pass.

As I process these quotes, I wonder if we actually trust and believe God IS enough for us, especially in these areas we struggle to gain control over. Is he enough for our faults and failures, enough to satisfy our deepest longing, enough to bring peace in this chaotic would.

Hide and abide in Christ.

That really does sound a lot like trust. It’s hard for us to comprend because we think that we need a “7 steps to a better you” plan. Hiding and abiding can’t possibly be the key.

While God isn’t beyond using pain to bring about change in our lives if necessary, His preferred method is trust. Eyes locked in on Christ at every move; seeking His Kingdom first and letting everything else be added in after. Our God is so trustworthy, whether our hearts can believe it in any given moment or not. I’m still here, months later, trying to figure out exactly how trust practically leads to positive change in my life, but I have learned this in the process: without trust I’ll never take the risks necessary to find out.

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Bekah's Heart, Music, transition

Follow You Anywhere

It was a Monday night. I was at a young adult worship night at a local church when I first heard the words of this song, a prayer to God:

“You make it easy to love You
You are good and You are kind
You bring joy into my life
You make it easy to trust You
You have never left my side
You’ve been faithful every time”

I was singing along but the prayer in my brain was not quite on board. The situation I was in forced me to wrestle more than agree:

“God you don’t really make it easy to love and trust you. Actually, it’s really hard. Yes, you bring joy and are trustworthy, but ‘easy’??? Definitely not the word I would have chosen if I was writing this song.”

What annoyed me more was that a lot of the rest of song was truly the cry of my heart that night:

“All I want is You
Jesus, all I want is You

You are the refuge I run to
You are the fire that leads me through the night
I’ll follow You anywhere
There’s a million reasons to trust You
Nothing to fear for You are by my side
I’ll follow You anywhere”

I awoke at 4am with these words on my heart, praying through a situation I had brought before God a million times before, but yet again was burdened by. There WERE a million reasons to trust God (and that’s not hyperbole!) So I placed this situation back in God’s hands and chose trust, honestly crying out that I’d follow His lead wherever that took me.

Little did I know that God about 12 hours later I would get a phone call that would dramatically change my life. God was indeed preparing my heart to trust and follow and it had nothing to do with what I was praying about.


Fast forward nearly 6 months. I now live in a different state, learning a new career, sitting in an unfamiliar church pew wondering when and where and how I’ll find the kind of community and connection I left behind in Buffalo. This “church-shopping-as-a-church-worker” thing is still a bit foreign, yet I’m thankful for opportunities to rest and be renewed on Sunday mornings soaking in God’s Word without distraction. As the first lyrics of the first song came out of the speakers and then my mouth, the tears fell instantly from my eyes:

“You make it easy to love You
You are good and You are kind
You bring joy into my life
You make it easy to trust You
You have never left my side
You’ve been faithful every time

I’ll follow you anywhere”

It feels like this song has become an anthem in this season. An anthem I never really wanted. A prayer I still am not 100% sure about. A cry of trust and dependence on the faithfulness of God. Literally 6 months ago the life I get up and live each day now wasn’t even on my radar. Who knew that “anywhere” would mean the cornfields of Nebraska?

God. God knew.

I’m not sure it will ever be “easy” to trust God, but what I found comforting on this Sunday morning in looking back is that there are no regrets. I’m realizing that there never are when we’re following God. God knows exactly where “anywhere” for each of us is and has a million blessings in that place. Making the decision to say “yes” when God asks us to follow Him actually IS of the easiest decisions of life. (Despite the many hard things that come along with those decisions.) It’s easy because His track record is 100%. It’s easy because He is faithful, always. It’s easy because of the way He protects and provides along the journey.

And so I guess my prayer remains:

“Wherever You lead me
Whatever it costs me
All I want is You
Jesus, all I want is You

I’ll follow You anywhere.”

I’ll follow You into this week to love on the people you put in my path.

I’ll follow You when it’s lonely and I miss my friends and family in NY.

I’ll follow You into interactions with my teammates.

I’ll follow You into tough conversations or joyful celebrations with my students.

I’ll follow You with my eyes wide open for the joys and blessings You have waiting along the way.

“There’s a million reasons to trust You
Nothing to fear for You are by my side
I’ll follow You anywhere
Follow You anywhere”

Bekah's Heart, transition

I’ve Walked These Halls

I’ve walked these halls.
I’ve wandered these buildings.
I’ve sat in these offices (and in some potentially unfortunate cases maybe in these same exact chairs).

I went to school here.
I left.
Nine years later: I’m back.

Once a student. Now staff.
Always a Bulldog.

So much seems the same and yet so different.

I’ve lived in this town… kind of. The brick-paved streets feel familiar as I make my way to restaurants and stores and businesses around.

Some remain. Some have changed.

And I find myself back on the same 2.7 mile path on the east side of town where I pounded the pavement training for my first half-marathon 10 years ago. And the curves are the same, the bridges bring back memories, the sunrises and sunsets still beautiful.

It’s so similar and yet so different.

This time as I ponder this “moving back” yet “staring over”, the difference hits me:

The trees have grown. It makes sense that they’re bigger now, but it takes me a while to notice.

Wide open spaces now filled in with green leaves and big brown branches.

And I realize that I, too, am the same and yet so different.

The buds that began sprouting in my life in the spring of 2010 are flowering now in 2019. And branches beginning to grow out of control have been pruned and cut back by life and loving humans placed around me. Like wear-and-tear on dorm room furniture, I have a few more scars than when I walked out of this place in a graduation cap. And in other ways I’m stronger now than I’ve ever known.

Scripture tells us that “those who sow with tears will reap with songs of joy.”

And I can’t help think of the tears sown on Ruth B third,
and SW Pit,
and in the very office that now has my name on the door.

What seeds were watered then that God is bringing to life here nearly a decade later?

I see them springing up all over the place.
Morning by morning,
day by day:
New mercies. New life.
New songs of joy.

In renewed passion.
In a great team.
In gifts and experiences uniquely preparing me for this work.
In 49 amazing human beings who walked on campus tonight … and many more in the days ahead.
In the chance to walk with them through this year.
In hope that maybe a decade from now they’ll find themselves looking back on these years and know without a doubt that God used this time to shape them uniquely for the calling He has on their lives.

Yes, I’ve walked these halls.
And I’m glad to walk them again.