I Am Lion. Hear Me Roar.

I took a personality test this week. No, not a quiz on Facebook, but a legit psychologist-made test. This particular test assigns your typical behaviors and responses to four animals: a lion, an otter, a golden retriever, or a beaver.

I'm a lion. Hear me roar.

My strengths? Problem solving, leading, and excelling in competition.

Annnnnd, that's where the compliments end. The lion's weaknesses are many: impatience, too direct, impulsive, insensitive, not a good listener. And my favorite? "Cold-blooded."

Wow.

I also did a series of devotions this week on the Fruits of the Spirit. This morning I read about gentleness.

These two things do not coincide well.

If you're like me you've got some Mama-Lion in you. We see injustice, we fight against it. We see a wrong, we try to right it. There is not a thing wrong with having the boldness of a lion.

So why then does God say we should be gentle when many times I feel nothing of the sort. How can a hurricane be a mist?

My sweet husband is a golden retriever (not literally). He is warm, loyal. A peacemaker. He carries gentleness like a mantle. So does he then carry the Holy Spirit more than I do?

Friend, I'm here to tell you today that we misunderstand what it means to be gentle in the Lord. I Peter 3:4 says, "Your beauty...should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight."

But, Father, I'm a lion. That Doctor Doolittle test told me so, and quite honestly, I could have told you that without it.

A gentle and quiet spirit is not exactly what we think it is. Let's look at it this way: my spirit is the eternal part of me. It has direct connection with the Holy Spirit. This communion is the catalyst for all the good Kingdom work we do. I show gentleness when I am the first to be compassionate and kind. When I am quick to love and encourage. This may come with a lion's boldness, but it still is evidence of a gentle heart. I show a quiet spirit when I am neither troubled nor scared of an uncertain future. I am not a lion on the attack, but one who sits in peace by the water.

A gentle and quiet spirit is precious in God's sight. Precious, in its original Greek, means "worth a great price." Your spirit's faith in God is worth much to Him. And a God who gave up His only Son knows what a great price is worth.

I was thinking of our bold Biblical counterparts:

Elijah who called fire down from heaven.

Noah who built a boat the size of a cruise ship.

Jacob who wrestled an angel.

Esther who approached a king.

John the Baptist who announced the arrival of the Christ.

Paul who stepped out of darkness and gave his life to the light.

They all had a gentle and quiet spirit even though their outsides spoke differently. Their covers read of action and drama, but their pages were sweet poetry. They intensely loved people with the great compassion of God and believed in the promises set before them. Their hearts beat loudly; loudly yet untroubled.

Dear one, roar and lead. Be competitive and be direct. Be bold, my friend. But don't worry. There's a gentle heart inside you.

I am an oxymoron in the flesh. A lion, king of beasts, ready to pounce, but whose heart has been stilled by the King of Peace.

Father, create in us a heart that is both bold and gentle for Your Name, helping us to discern the right time for each.

If you'd like to take the Doctor Doolittle test, you can find it here. It's free, quick, and easy. I'd love to hear in the comments what animal you are!

The Red Backpack {An Evergreen Post}

There I was, booking it through the Magic Kingdom. I was fierce as mile after mile I pushed the double stroller that held my two boys. Up one Mickey hill and down every Goofy lane. In addition to pushing my precious cargo in a stroller that was slightly larger than my own body I carried a large, red L.L. Bean backpack filled to the max with every snack, water bottle, wipe, rain coat, extra shirt, shoe, towel, and first aid kit that it could hold. I was a Target on wheels. My 21st century version of Mary Poppins' carpet bag.

To be honest, I felt very impressive. Strong, lithe, the I-can-do-it-all Mom!

Walking in my wake and wondering what in the world I was doing were three people who dearly love me: my husband and his parents. They continually offered their assistance as I sweetly refused. Don't they know I can do it all? I can carry this load all by myself!

See, this is something I'm very good at. Loading myself down, insisting I can do it all on my own...until I collapse with unnecessary exhaustion on my way to ride Dumbo the Flying Elephant.

This week I found myself once again burdened with a heavy load, but this time it came in the form of emotional cargo. We buried my beloved grandmother on Wednesday. It was a lovely home going service.  But the sadness of missing her along with worry for my mother who had just lost her mother, coupled with some other non-related issues that were making me angry - in short, I was crippled with all sorts of sorrow. By Thursday I knew that I couldn't cry. Because if I started I wouldn't be able to stop.

So I put on my big, red backpack of fears, sorrows, and uncertainties. Loaded up my stroller of sadness and anger and I began carrying these burdens through a dark valley that resembled nothing of The Happiest Place on Earth.

But I couldn't do it. I tried to get my feet to move, tried to make it one more step, but as strong as I think I am - I'm just not. Profound sadness continued its threat to overtake me. I was on the cusp of intense anger and self-pity. Strength I have, yes. But not enough to carry this load.

Have you ever been here, friend? Saying, "God, it's too much! I can't hold up these burdens anymore!"

So I asked Him, "God, what do I do with my sorrow? With my fear? With my anger?"

You ask in expectation, sweet friend, and our God will answer:

My child, give your sorrow back to me. Dear one, let me combat your fears. Beloved, I will soothe your anger.

I cried aloud to the LORD, and he answered me from his holy hill. 

Psalm 3:4

In my distress I called upon the LORD; to my God I cried for help. From his temple he heard my voice, and my cry to him reached his ears.

Psalm 18:6

Friend, drop the backpack. Stop pushing the stroller. Park in right there in the middle of Fantasyland. Sit down and eat some ice cream that's shaped like a mouse's head.

Because not only are you not strong enough to carry that weight - you're not supposed to be.

But He is. 

Cast all your cares upon Him for He cares for you.  

I Peter 5:7

Give your sorrow to Him. Turn it loose. In turning it loose you don't become weaker, you have become stronger because you are no longer relying on your pitiful amount of muscle.  

For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

II Corinthians 12:10

So, I did. I cried out. I gave Him my sorrows, my fears, my uncertainties. And when I walked back over to that backpack the weight of it was considerably less. The stroller moved along with ease.  

Life has bumps, bruises, and some downright nasty breaks.  But we are still created to live in fullness and joy. I cannot regain my joy by trying to conquer enemies against whom I stand no chance. They will consume me every time. They will turn me into someone I don't want to be.  

Dear one, I will not pretend that I know all of the sorrow and hurt you are carrying in your red backpack, but I do know that no matter how heavy it is, your God is strong enough to bear its load.

We are not meant to spend our days huffing and puffing, struggling with events and emotions that are too much for us.  So I shake off the little strength I have and trade it in for His. With this strength I can get back to the fullness of life and have joy of heart. 

And instead of spending all my energy carrying around unnecessary baggage, I'll choose to spend it on good things that bring joy - like riding a flying elephant with my sons.

LORD on your Holy Hill,

My soul cries out to you. I cannot deal with the shadows of sorrow, confusion, and worry on my own. Take my burdens, God. Show me how to turn them over to you. Return my heart to peace.

Lord, may it be so.

Love, Not Law

Twice in one day I heard the word 'litigious.' Who hears this word even once in their day, let alone twice? And, for the sake of transparency - I mean, let's be real here. The first time I heard the word was in an episode of Friends where Rachel declares she is "not litigious" to a possible employer. And the second was on Top 40 radio with a DJ describing a woman who had engaged in some sort of nonsense and was about to sue someone. So, in short, do not be mistaken. I was not reading the Wall Street Journal, watching the news on PBS, or engaging in any high minded media. Nope, just Friends and trashy radio.

Where were we? Oh, yes. Litigious. Am I litigious? Are you litigious? Who knows? I have no idea what this word even means. But I am a curious cat, so I had to look it up.

Ahem. Litigious. "Excessively ready to go to law."

In my physical life I am not litigious. I've never sued anyone. Never had anyone arrested. In fact, several years ago Dusty and I were rear ended on I-95 on our way to Orlando. It was a barely there bump, so we told those who'd hit us not to worry about it. Some may consider this naive, but I tell this story to prove the point - I am not litigious.

But am I spiritually litigious?

Galatians 3:3 says this: "Are you that stupid? Did you begin in a spiritual way only to end up doing things in a human way (the Law)?"

In this text Paul is speaking to the church at Galatia. Jews during this time followed the Law, the commandments given to Moses in Exodus. These are not just the ten we memorized in Sunday School as children. The Law held over 600 rules ranging from those we've memorized to foods you were allowed to eat to property management to relationships. Jews worked very hard to obtain righteousness in the sight of God by following these rules to the letter.

But Jesus came and spoke freedom:

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart 

and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ 

This is the first and greatest commandment. 

And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.' 

All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

Matthew 22:37-40

(emphasis mine)

Dear one, Jesus says love is enough. If we love Him with everything we have and love each other in the same way everything in the Law will fall into place. There is no need to complete a checklist of good deeds to win our salvation. Jesus came and through His love and our love for Him all the Law is covered.

Paul says "we are no longer under the supervision of law" or a bajillion rules. Just two rules now: Love God. Love people. 

But what about those Ten Commandments? I'm supposed to follow those, right? 

If you love God and love people you will. 

Let's test this theory.

No other Gods before Him - Love God.

No idols - Love God.

No misusing His Name - Love God.

Remember the Sabbath - Love God.

Honor your parents - Love people.

No murder - Love people.

No adultery - Love people.

No stealing - Love people.

No lying - Love people.

No jealousy - Love people.

Legalism is not for you, friend. You are a child of Love, not a child of law. 

I want to be like Rachel Green and declare "I am not litigious!" I want to be unshackled by lists of rules and claim only one: love. Just love.

All the Law is covered by Love.

Father, create in us a heart that loves You and loves Your people. Let our hearts rest in love, not law.

How to Gain Heaven

"At that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, 'Who is the greatest in the Kingdom of heaven?' He called a little child and had him stand among them. And He said: 'I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the Kingdom of heaven.'"

Whenever I picture those who should regally and righteously inherit the Kingdom of heaven the image my mind conjures is just that: people who seem regal and righteous. Learned sages, faithful elders, stately saints, those who have dedicated their lives to the work of the Kingdom.

But in this sweet passage our Savior says that's not the right picture. We must be like children.

Uh, Lord? Have you seen my kids? Father, I promise I am diligently training them to be strong men that live for You, but most of the time they're a little needy, a little self-centered, a little immature, and sometimes, quite frankly, they're smelly. They're childish, Lord. And you want me to emulate them?

What Jesus says is exactly what He means. On this you can always rely. So what is it about a child that makes them so Kingdom worthy? I mean, as I'm watching my children in this very moment they're covered in chocolate ice cream watching Spongebob. One of them has discarded all of his clothes and is eating Gummies in the nude. I'm trying here, Lord.

Let's observe our children closer, friends:

Children have so many questions. But they simply come to you, admit their confusion. They ask questions and faithfully expect answers.

Children accept love. They receive acts of love without any condition. They don't question it or try to determine their worthiness of it. They don't look for ulterior motives. They just take it. And they let it fill their hearts. And they thrive because of it.

Children need help. All. The. Time. But they're not afraid to admit it. They're not afraid to ask for it.

Children admit fear. In nightmares, loud noises, uncertain situations. What they feel, they say. And when they admit fear, they usually find comfort.

Children are messy. Come to my house. You will see.

Children are wholeheartedly devoted. When you give love, they'll return it. There is no hug like the hug from a child. They love with excitement and joy and hope.

Children believe. They know promises are meant to be kept. They believe good always wins.

Most of these attributes are not particularly impressive, In fact, even those good qualities listed above could be seen as being naive. But children...they don't care. They're unashamed in being flawed and not jaded by the world. They own their human-ness. Their sweet humanity. They wear their beautiful childishness with humility.

I have so many questions, but sometimes I don't trust God to give me the answer.

I want to accept love, but sometimes my past hardens my heart.

I need help, but most of the time I don't look for it, accepting that my burdens aren't big enough to give to Jesus.

I'm scared. About a lot of things. Spiritual things, political things, world events. But I don't always tell my Sovereign Almighty God about it.

I'm messy. My outsides my not look it, but boy my brain can be a big ole cluttered space.

I want to be wholeheartedly devoted to God, but I still keep pieces for myself. Like that television show that's not good for my mind or my heart. I don't give that piece to Him.

I believe. God knows my heart. He knows I believe. But do I always trust that He'll provide, that he'll see me through?

We struggle to have it all figured out, but Jesus said, Don't. In fact, He said, Come to Me with nothing: no wisdom, no righteousness, no courage, no perfection. The man who struggles to gain his own salvation does not inherit the Kingdom. But the know-nothing child who simply trusts gets it all.

We've heard "The meek shall inherit the earth (Matthew 5:5)." But what does this mean exactly? Well, the Message version of the Bible says it this way:

You're blessed when you're content with just 

who you are - no more, no less. That's the moment 

you find yourselves proud owners of everything

that can't be bought.

You don't need to be impressive, stately, or saintly to gain heaven, dear friend. You just need to bring yourself, childlike as you are: a little scared, a little confused, a little jaded, and maybe even a little smelly, and give your humble, tender heart to Him. This, my friends, is how you gain heaven.

Father, create in us a childlike heart. 

The God Who Sees Me

I sing because I'm happy. I sing because I'm free. His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me.

What a lovely thought. A beautiful hymn that speaks to the care our Father in heaven has for us. How He supplies our needs, gives us comfort, shares His joy and light with us.

His eye is on the insert-your-name-here.

But there's more to it than that. He doesn't just watch you...he sees you.

Is there a difference?

I watch my children all the time. Watching means (and I quote, from dictionary.com): to be alertly on the lookout, look attentively, or observe, as to see what comes, is done, or happens.

I'm watching my children for their well-being: their views on YouTube, the speed of the their go-cart, how high they jump on the trampoline, how close they get to the road, how rough they get when wrestling, how much juice is in their cup. I say things like, "Please put your clothes back on," and "The dog is not a horse." Or this week's favorite, "Stop hitting the watermelon with that stick." (I promise that was a real thing that happened.)

So I watch.

But I also need to see. Dictionary.com (how did we ever live without the amazing technological convenience that is dictionary.com?!) says to see is to perceive with the eyes; look at, with perceive meaning "to recognize, discern, envision, or understand."

Beloved, God watches you...but He also sees you. He looks at you. He is aware of you, recognizes you, understands you.

I picture dear Hagar alone and scared in the desert (Genesis 16). An Egyptian noblewoman, most likely, given as a gift to Abram and Sarai. From Egyptian courts to a slave in the desert. She runs away from camp, desperate to escape Sarai's hatred of her. The angel of the LORD finds her there and comforts her, making her beautiful promises of God's faithfulness to her.

Hagar gives God a name, El Roi, the God Who Sees Me. This little woman. A slave. A displaced foreigner. And she was the first person in the entirety of Scripture to give a name to God. An honor for her to be sure.

Just as God saw Hagar in the desert thousands of years ago, God sees you, too. He sees you at your job when the boss won't give you credit for a great idea. He sees you when your son smarts off to you making you cry. He sees you as you scrub spaghetti from the carpet and wash countless loads of toddler underwear and pants because it's potty-training time. He sees when you've created a beautiful piece of art, a colorful flower bed, or a gourmet dinner and no one recognizes how hard you've worked.

Beloved, when you fall into bed at night feeling alone and craving the least bit of recognition, you've got it.

The God-Who-Sees-Me sees you. And, oh my, how He loves you. Jesus came to earth for you, not because He felt sorry for you, but because He understands you. Isaiah 40:11 says, "He tends his flock like a shepherd: He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart."

His eye is on the sparrow and I know He watches me. Happy and free indeed is the one who God sees.

Lord, create in us a heart that realizes it is seen by You.