Follow your heart.

Or should you?

In many ways, “follow your heart” is the motto of the world we live in. Our culture has wholeheartedly embraced the idea that we must “follow our hearts” in order to be “true to ourselves.” Trust your gut, lead with your heart, and so many other cliches tell us to trust what we feel and follow it to the end. You see this everywhere, from movies to marketing campaigns to kids t-shirts at Target.

And yet in the Christian sub-culture, we’ve largely been taught the opposite: to ignore how we feel, keep our head down, and continue about the business of doing what God has asked of us. It’s true- our hearts can mislead us, and certainly aren’t to be trusted as the guiding compass we must follow.

After all, the Bible says the heart is deceitful and desperately sick.

Thus says the LORD: “Cursed is the man who trusts in man and makes flesh his strength, whose heart turns away from the LORD…” The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?

Jeremiah 17:9

However, when we ignore our heart along with the feelings and emotions it allows us, we can miss the heart of the Gospel.

The heart of the Gospel is a Father longing to be in relationship with His children. It is a story of great compassion. The separation between us and the Father has been bridged by His Son Jesus through His death on the cross and resurrection from the grave. His death purchased our pardon and restored to us our freedom! God’s heart was so moved to be with us that He gave all He had to restore our close relationship with the Him. That’s the Gospel! We are now forgiven and can be in relationship with God!

So if the Gospel is about relationship with God…. and having emotions in relationships is good…. why do we so often keep our emotions from him?

I remember being in college and experiencing for the first time being really disappointed with God. The Lord had allowed me to be in this beautiful dating relationship for a time; it was something so sweet He had given me. But then He asked me to give it back to Him and end the relationship, so I did. It was excruciating. For weeks I wrestled with the ache, wondering why the Lord would ask me to do something so painful. It wasn’t until a friend’s encouragement gave me the permission I needed to be honest. She said, “It’s okay that you’re angry with Him. You can tell Him that.”

And all of a sudden, the floodgates opened. My whole life I’d thought anger wasn’t an emotion I was allowed to have with God. I’m supposed to keep my distance when I have these crazy human emotions that are disapproved of and beneath Him. His ways are higher than my ways, that I knew for sure. But what I hadn’t learned yet was that He is tender and gentle and allows me, in all His grace, to bring Him my ache and my frustrations. Even my anger. 

I propose that our emotions, our hearts, play a vital part in having relationship with God. It’s important to recognize that relationship with us is what God longs for, not merely our obedience. 

To further our relationship with God, we can be honest with Him about what our hearts feel, because there is a vast difference between denying our flesh and suppressing our emotions. What we must keep at the forefront, however, is that even though our feelings are real they may not be true.

My feelings are real, but they may not be true.

The pain of my heartbreak was very real. The disappointment with God’s decision and direction was very real. The fear that my life would not unfold how I had pictured was real. 

I felt abandonded. I felt like I was being punished. Those feelings were real, but they weren’t true.

But all of those emotions have to surrender to the knowledge that God is good. By remembering that not every feeling is true, we can keep ourselves from being deceived by our emotions.

By remembering that not every feeling is true, we can keep ourselves from being deceived by our emotions.

The Bible says this in 2 Corinthians 10:5: 

We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ.

My feelings of being abandoned and punished were lofty opinions that were against the knowledge of God, and as a child of God I get to destroy those thoughts and take them captive. I brought Him those emotions and fears, and allowed Him to remind me of what was true: His goodness.

No, we certainly cannot rely on our emotions as truth due to their shifting and fragile nature, however, we can bring them to the Lord as a part of our humanity. In bringing those emotions to the Lord, so many things became possible. First, He was able to empathize with my weakness. 

For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are--yet he did not sin.

Hebrews 4:15

We serve a God who knows what the human experience is like, and I believe He uses that as a way to connect with us. He’s felt this flesh and known this unspeakable ache inside. Bringing it to the Lord also allowed Him walk me to the next step, to show me what to do with those emotions. I’m a firm believer that difficult emotions go somewhere. When we choose to stuff them down, that doesn’t mean they go away; it means they will come out at a later time, often in much uglier ways. Acknowledging those emotions and letting myself feel the feelings allows them have their place in my human experience. That’s where the growth of life happens.

The friction created by my raw human experience colliding against the knowledge of Heaven is where spiritual granite is formed. Rock solid foundations are laid as we allow Jesus to walk us through our stony emotions step by step closer to heaven.

The friction created by my raw human experience colliding against the knowledge of Heaven is where spiritual granite is formed.

When things are painful in my life now, I often pray, “Lord, let me not waste this. Show me how You can use this pain to bring me closer to Your heart.”

God works deep miracles when I bring Him my pain and disappointment. He offers us the opportunity to rediscover the Truth in our relationship: the Gospel Truth that God is for us and that He is good.

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Have you found this to be true in your walk with God? Have you ever watched Him take your negative emotions and turn them to riches of relationship? Tell me how in the comments, I’d love to hear from you.

Do you ever have some new Truth ringing in your heart and head and begin to see it everywhere? That word, that idea, that thought on every billboard, in every sermon and through every conversation?

For me, it was the word character. A couple of years ago, I was telling God (read: complaining) about the hard season I was in and how I wish it were over. As if He didn’t already know both of those things. I decided to flip back through my journal, and as I began to read the things He had said to me over the few weeks prior, I saw a common thread running through. In nearly every one of those conversations, He had mentioned the word character. 

Holiness is hard and difficult to obtain because it requires denying your flesh. That can be painful at times. But it reaps a harvest of character that is not otherwise possible. 

Keep your eyes on Me, and the things that are painful won’t be quite so hard.

So being the disciplined Bible scholar I am, I turned to the concordance and looked up the singular verse listed under the word Character. And this is what I found.

Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. Romans 5:3-5

Now, I’ve read this verse, I don’t know, maybe a million times. I’ve heard it preached on, seen it emblazoned on cute journals, and the topic of youth camps in summers past. But when I read it this time, knee deep in “sufferings” and knowing what He told me about character, I just about fell off the couch.

Then of course, that week I walked in to my new Bible study group and grabbed the study book. The topic: Romans 5:3-5. It was everywhere for me right then.

In those moments, when the Lord is obviously sending me a very clear lesson, I want to be a very present student. I want to have my eyes locked on His, so as not to miss the Word of the moment.

If we choose to look the other way or continue to languish in the suffering without looking to Jesus, we will miss the opportunity He’s offering. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want one mite of suffering to be without purpose and produce. I know that the Lord did not cause my suffering, but He wants to teach me through it. He, and only He, can make good on it and turn it into my moment of greatest victory.

That verse says that we rejoice in our sufferings. When was the last time that you ran into a hard situation and said, “YES! This is awesome!” That’s hard to even imagine, much less be equipped to accomplish. 

The root of that word rejoice is the word for neck: the thing holding the head high. We are to hold our heads proud when we suffer, knowing as we yield to the Lord, He will produce in us the ability to look more like Him. The Holy Spirit grows us in character, which looks like love toward our enemies, abiding joy in disappointment, peace through tumult, patience in trials, kindness , goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. The fruit of the Spirit.

So what does this look like? It means entering in, directly into the suffering and asking God where He is in it.

So I began to inquire of the Lord. What does character look like to You? What would it look like displayed in me? How will it change my perspective on suffering? How will it affect my hope and cause me to grow in hope?

What part of my attitude or actions or beliefs can I yield to You to change for the better as I walk this out?

The answers to those questions will determine how I walk through this season. And not just the answers themselves but the One who answers. My choice to turn my face to Jesus, to see Him and His heart in the midst of this, and then lean deeper into my relationship with Him, will change everything. He will always exceed my expectations. 

I have some news: I don’t think your calling is what you think it is.

It’s not what I thought it was.

We were made with a longing for purpose etched into our souls. Our calling, our purpose, our destiny; we call it different names, but the premise remains. We long for meaning and a place in the world. We long to make a difference and be appreciated for what we offer.

I’ve been trying all week to come up with reasons not to write about finding our calling. It can be a complex discussion with a few nuances. However, I know it’s something that I’ve wrestled with for more than a few years, and I’m betting you might have too.

Typically I’d enter a conversation about “my calling” thinking of my own role in the world and more specifically, in the Kingdom of God.

The dictionary defines calling as “a strong urge toward a particular way of life or career; a vocation.” 

As one with many of these “urges,” hobbies, interests, and random whims, this idea of finding my calling can be a busy highway of brain traffic with too few street signs. When we set out to find our calling on our own, we can easily be swept up in the “follow your heart” approach the world takes. As believers, this is not how we are to live. We get to live by a more helpful and Biblical approach.

Let’s look at what the Bible has to say about our calling. I have a feeling it might surprise you as much as it did me.

Romans 11:29 “For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.”

It’s tempting to read this verse alone and apply our ideas to it, how it’s about our particular purpose that God has branded on our life. But when read in its context, the verse takes on different meaning. Romans 11:29 is not about our individual calling to a vocation or life path. It’s about salvation. In chapter 11, Paul is talking about Gentiles being offered salvation alongside the Israelites. This same word translated as “calling” is found scattered throughout the New Testament and it is the Greek word klesis meaning an invitation to accept His gift of salvation. If you read Romans 11:28-29 together it makes perfect sense.

Romans 11:28-29 (NLT) “Many of the people of Israel are now enemies of the Good News, and this benefits you Gentiles. Yet they are still the people He loves because He chose their ancestors Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. For the gifts and the calling of God are irrevocable.”

The calling isn’t to something, it’s into something. Our calling is into the Kingdom of God to be children of God through salvation in Jesus.

The word gifts in Romans 11:29 is the Greek word charismata, which could also be translated as grace gifts. This is how we are particularly gifted supernaturally by the Holy Spirit.

God calls us into salvation through a relationship with Jesus, and then He gifts us to be able to participate with Him in Kingdom work.

Sometimes this gifting accompanies what we are already good at, and sometimes He supernaturally equips us in a way we are not already gifted. As I wrote earlier this week in a post about speaking at a women’s conference, when I teach I sense the nearness of the Presence of God and know it is in part what He’s gifted me to do.

It brings to mind the quote by runner Eric Liddell, the Olympic Gold Medalist who inspired the movie Chariots of Fire.

“God made me fast. And when I run, I feel His pleasure.” ― Eric Liddell

Eric chose to honor and glorify God through that which God gifted him, running. But he didn’t ignore his calling into the Kingdom; He went on to become a missionary in China, while still competing occasionally. He used everything he had for the glory of God. 

Sometimes God invites us to participate in the Kingdom in a way we are not naturally gifted, and He promises to equip us in spite of that. This was the case with Moses. God called him to petition Pharaoh on behalf of the entire Israelite nation. Moses didn’t want to do it; he was not a good speaker and had a stutter. But the Lord told Moses, “I will be with your mouth and teach you what you shall speak.” (See Exodus 3 and 4 for further reading)

Moses had to hear from the Lord and then walk in obedience. His calling wasn’t about him becoming a proficient and engaging motivational speaker. It was about answering the call to faith and then participate in God’s plan. God’s plan was to rescue the people of God and bring them into the land that He had promised their ancestors and continue His covenant with them for all time. If we make it about Moses becoming a great leader and good speaker, we minimize the grandness of God’s plan. It’s SO huge. Much bigger than even Moses, and certainly bigger than us.

This mindset helps me to take my eyes off of myself and put them back where they belong: on Christ the Rescuer, on God the Promise Keeper, and Holy Spirit the Life Giver. It’s about so much more than me and what I’m good at. And in many ways, this takes the pressure off. You don’t necessarily have to find and discover what you’re good at; you’re supposed to enter into intimate relationship with God, give Him glory, and make Him known in the world. As we walk with Him, He will show us what to do and direct our path.

How do you think about your calling? Does looking at these verse in light of salvation shift your way of thinking about your calling?

This weekend I had the amazing opportunity to speak at the RISE Women’s Conference at Temple Church in New Bern, North Carolina, alongside one of my all-time greatest role models, Beth Moore. What a beautiful weekend. I told my girlfriends I had not been that excited since I gave birth. Let ‘s be real, maybe more.

We planned and prepared and prayed, and when the time came, WOW did the Lord move. The theme verse was Isaiah 60:1,

"Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the LORD rises upon you.”

The speakers were not told specifically what to speak or preach on, only that this was the theme verse. We were asked to seek the Lord and see what He would have to say.

When I think about a women’s conference my mind goes to the array of women who will attend en masse, yet each carries with them a singular and unique set of life circumstances and burdens. Each woman is so different and so sacred to the Lord. That is the weight of ministry: each soul matters so dearly to the heart of our Father. 

The Lord gave each of the speakers different and yet overlapping words that became a loud and powerful message. With each speaker, we saw the thread the Lord had woven through the weekend, unplanned by us but known by him. We quoted similar verses and echoed the Father’s heart throughout the conference.

Themes of His power and might to accomplish what we cannot.

His desire for us to know our identity and lay down the shame and lies the enemy hands us.

The importance of listening and knowing His Word and His Voice.

The calling we have to RISE UP and walk as ones dearly loved and chosen.

What a beautiful thing to see the Lord orchestrate a weekend that somehow ministers to the specific need of so many.

Someone asked me my favorite part of the weekend, and it was without a doubt getting to bring the Word the Lord had given me. Teaching the Word of God is like a breath of life to me. I got up on that stage, the same one Beth had graced a few minutes before. As soon as I began to speak, a supernatural calm came over me and I was overjoyed to get to talk about the thing I love the very most: the Lord and His Word.

A close second favorite was getting to drive Beth and her beautiful assistant Kimberly to the airport to fly home. It was a beautiful hour together I’ll cherish forever.

Do you have that thing in your life that feels life-giving and yet as natural as breathing? The thing that brings life to your bones, excitement to your heart, and breath to your lungs. Later this week we’ll talk about the journey to finding that thing and what the Bible has to say about it. Don’t miss it! Subscribe below.

The black dress stuck to my damp body, the southern September Sunday in full heat. It was hard to imagine that Jeffrey was gone. She would always be part of our story, since it was she who set us up on a blind date just two years prior. I was emotionally worn from the funeral and ready to make the 2-hour-drive and get back home.

“Let’s go for a hike!” Robbie said. “There’s this amazing park right here in town.”

Oh boy, I thought. Here we go.

I like the outdoors. Well, I like the idea of the outdoors. I don’t know, maybe I just like the indoors. But I seem to have this great apprehension when Robbie wants to do something outside, because I never quite seem prepared for it. Whether emotionally, physically, or both, I am ill-prepared, and I almost never have the right clothes.

The pajamas I’d packed for the overnight stay were my only other clothing besides the dress I was wearing, so we rolled up to Dollar General and purchased the only clothes we could find: a pajama tank top and a pair of blue and green boxer shorts emblazoned with toads saying “Toadally Awesome.” The irony was THICK.

I had an overwhelming sense of dread as we approached the park, stopped at the restroom, and looked for the trailhead. You would have thought he was asking me to climb Everest as I picked my nails and pouted. He was oblivious. 

We got to the trailhead in the deserted park and were presented with 1-mile and 3-mile options for our torture hike. He was almost giddy as he exclaimed with delight that we should do the 3-miler. “In these shoes?” I said. “No way!”

I could tell he was disappointed, but he succumbed to my wishes and off we went down the 1-mile trail. I tripped over roots on the winding trail and got bit by every mosquito in the county. 

As I lumbered behind him, the soles of my feet began to burn as they rubbed against my new Target dress sandals and my eyes filled with tears. He bounced along ahead, repeating how much fun he was having.

It wasn’t a challenging course by any stretch. One mile shouldn’t have been a big deal. And yet, I felt like I was dying. Sure, the heat was a little oppressive, and my feet were hurting, but my tear-streaked cheeks told the truth that turmoil was brewing in my heart.

With every step, I had to continue telling myself that I could do this. I could do it because I loved him. I knew it would ruin his time if he knew just how much I hated our activity, so I suffered silently.

I didn’t know it then, but that walk in the woods four years ago became a turning point in my marriage.

In those days, I would’ve told you Robbie was needy. I felt like he was constantly asking me to prove my love to him, and I was constantly failing.  I imagined him saying, “You better go on this hike, or you couldn’t possibly love me.”

We had struggled since we met to find activities that we both enjoyed doing together. Everything felt like a sacrifice, certainly not like fun. The truth is that he often didn’t feel loved, and I didn’t know why.

I had said “no” so often to the things that mattered to his heart, unknowingly wounding him. I now realize that my reasons for saying no were in part misunderstanding his needs and part due to my own fear. Fear that I wouldn’t be good enough, fear that I couldn’t physically keep up with him, fear that I would fail.

Thank the Lord for that terrible hike in the park! I needed to get to the point that I was willing to get uncomfortable to love him well and help him to feel safe. That day he was asking me to speak his language. It wasn’t just about hiking or some physical feat he was asking me to accomplish, like I thought it was. He longed for time with me. What I know now is that quality time is his love language. (Learn more about love languages here.)

I’m grateful that so much has changed and grown in us since that day. Now, if Robbie knows I am having a hard time with something, he wants me to tell him, and he is gracious and loving. We are continually working toward a marriage where the other feels safe, free to share and show our true heart, and not taking it personally when the other finds offense or doesn't see it our way.

That day in the park, God gave me the grace to choose Robbie. I spoke love to him in a language he could hear. I chose his heart above my comfort. I chose his activity, and therefore, I chose his heart above my fear.

In the same way that those who are deaf cannot hear themselves speak and find it challenging to pronounce simple words, fear deafens us, disabling us from speaking love plainly.

Fear deafens us, disabling us from speaking Love plainly.

But when we allow God’s work in us to silence fear, we are free to speak and act in love. And love chooses the other. It goes to any and all lengths, any effort to get to the heart of the other. It’s not easy, but with Jesus’ help it’s possible.

“Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. It does not rejoice about injustice but rejoices whenever the truth wins out. Love never gives up, never loses faith, is always hopeful, and endures through every circumstance.” 1 Corinthians 13:4-7

Love is radical. 

Love presses in even when it’s not convenient and especially when it’s not easy. 

Love is willing to sacrifice. 

I chose love that day, a love that looks like boxer shorts and blistered feet, and my marriage is better for it.

The cart sat just outside the hospital room, filled with bright yellow paper gowns that each of us had to don along with masks and gloves before we could enter. As an ICU nurse, I took great caution with these patients on “contact isolation.” That cart signified they had a highly contagious bacteria that I needed to protect myself from. I covered myself to keep from getting infected or spreading it to others.

I thought about those paper gowns a few weeks ago when my husband was sharing stories from his life just before we met. He was in a small town, working full time, and living in a dark apartment his friends nicknamed “the dungeon.” To make matters worse, the small beach town where he lived went from bustling with life in the summer to deserted and desolate in the winter.

He spoke of how difficult that season was for him spiritually and emotionally. Then he shrugged his broad shoulders and spoke the hard truth he’d learned: “Isolation breeds depression.”

When we are left alone and isolated, there’s nothing to stop our dark infectious thoughts. They breed and fester when left unattended.

The opposite is also true: healthy vibrant relationships breed hope. And hope is contagious. 

Communities full of joy and hope are contagious. When we come in contact with other believers who have encountered hardship and who continue to trust the Lord, we are inspired to do the same. We become infected with hope. 

“And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out His love into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us.” Romans 5:5

My friend Ellen just recently moved to town. We’d worked together at the hospital a few years back in a different city often donning those yellow paper gowns, and now we found ourselves gladly together again. She messaged me this last weekend and asked if we could get together and go for a walk. We strolled and talked, then when we got back to my house, she came in and stayed. She stayed through my toddlers’ needy afternoon snack hour, then through dinner, and only left shortly after I put the kids to bed. My extroverted heart was so full. 

She shared some truly personal things about her family history and how it has affected her present day. I thanked her for trusting me to tell me. It’s a treasure when friends are open about deep things. Toward the end of our time together I remarked how glad I was that she had come over, and she said, “I didn’t want to have to get dressed up, or spend money on dinner, or go to some event to be with friends. Today I needed a couch friend.”

I needed a couch friend.

She needed to feel accepted just as she was, uncovered by a yellow paper gown. Not fancy, just sweatpants and her whole heart. 

We find hope in places like this. Places where we are known and still loved. We are vulnerable and still safe and secure. 

If we are longing to grow deep roots in the Lord, community is the necessary soil our hearts need to thrive. 

Ellen understands this truth. Even as an introvert, she knows she’s created in the image of God who is a relational God. She is, by human nature, relational, and needs friendship and community to thrive. She and her husband have been intentional in their short time in town so far to cultivate life-giving relationships. 

But…sometimes this requires risk. She had to message me and ask to hang out. I could’ve said no. I could’ve rushed her out of the house and made her feel like an inconvenience. I could’ve rebuffed when she shared her heart with me and wounded her. But she risked that anyway. 

Relationships require risk. Healthy relationships grow trust in spite of the risk and become a place of safety, but starting at ground zero can be a scary place. Let’s take that risk anyway. Let’s reach out and be intentional to cultivate friendships. Let’s be the one who suggests to hang out. Let’s also be the one whose couch is a safe place. Let’s have open hearts to those who are different than us. Let’s help others feel welcome just as they are. Let’s be couch friends.

Sarah and I were strolling the cobblestone sidewalk, enjoying the sunshine by the waterfront, when she saw the birds. A flock of pigeons had gathered at the other end of the sidewalk, pecking and squawking. In her 3-year-old mind, it was, in fact, the end of the world.

She began wailing at the top of her little lungs, tears streaming down her cheeks in full blown panic. 

“It’s okay.” I told her in my soothing voice. “They’re not going to bother us!” 

I was sure she was worried they would fly near us and pester her or worse, steal her snacks. But I pressed in to ask, “Why are you afraid of the birds, Sarah?” And she told me her reality.

“They’re going to EAT MEEEEE!” she wailed. 

I knew full well these birds wouldn’t eat her and that it was irrational to believe so, but in her little world that was the only reality. She was frozen in fear, her feet glued to the stony ground.

“Come on,” I beckoned, “Let’s go the other way.” Her breaths were still coming rapidly and the tears falling freely, but she stopped a moment and took a deep breath. And then, I watched her do a remarkable thing. She spoke truth to herself.

“I’m safe,” she said aloud. And then she began to walk.

Fears of any size can paralyze us. No matter how irrational, when anxiety rears its ugly head we believe it may just gobble us up. Fear has real repercussions on our physical bodies, often causing us to breathe faster, our heart rate to rise, our vessels to constrict, and our glands to pour sweat. It can even cause lightheadedness and nausea. 

How interesting that a belief in the mind can so dramatically affect our physical bodies. I saw it firsthand in Sarah that day as she froze in panic.

These physical symptoms begin by encountering a fear and believing a lie behind it.

Personally, I often find myself fearing the unknown, anxiety rising when I sense something is out of my control. Why? I believe the lie that it’s all up to me. 

Maybe for you it’s a different lie. It could be a lie of regret: “If only I had…” Or one of shame: “I’ll never be able to…” Or fear of loss: “I could never survive if…”

There are several reasons we are not supposed to live in fear. The first is that it distorts our reality. 

When we live in fear, we live as though the feared thing is reality.

We are already living, either mentally or even physically, with the consequences as though the feared thing has happened.

The second reason we aren’t supposed to live in fear: it’s a command.

Isaiah 41:10 says, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

Jesus commanded us not to live in fear, and not to let anxiety and worry plague our days. 

He said in Matthew 6:34, “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.”

It hit me recently why we are not supposed to worry about tomorrow. Lamentations 3:23 says that the Lord gives us new mercies every morning. We aren’t supposed to worry about tomorrow because we don’t have the grace and mercy yet for tomorrow! We will get the mercy for each day on that day. What a neat thought. The Lord will prepare us each day for what that day brings.

The last reason we aren’t supposed to worry and live in fear is that it doesn’t work!

The Word says that trusting in the Lord and keeping our eyes on Him is what truly works to steady our days and still our anxious hearts.

Isaiah 26:3 (NLT) “You will keep in perfect peace all who trust in you, all whose thoughts are fixed on you!”

Psalm 118:6-7 “The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid.  What can man do to me?  The Lord is with me; he is my helper.”

Let’s commit today, friends, to hand our worries and fears to the Lord. Let’s ask Him what He has for us and who He wants to be to us today. He meets every need and fills every longing. We need only ask. His truth will minister to those places of fear in our hearts and minds and root us in the very real and true reality of His goodness to us.

I held my breath as she spoke the words.

She said it out loud, the very thing I thought was unspeakable. I didn’t know you could admit that to a room of peers and live. As she told her story, her struggle, I couldn’t breathe. And then suddenly, I was energized. I was free. It was like I’d been given CPR and my heart and lungs were on fire with life.

“I did too.” I spoke. I shared a secret shame I’d never admitted before. And I admitted it all at once to a room full of friends. It felt scandalous, but somehow I knew I was safe.

If she could be real about the ugly, then so could I.

There’s something raw about someone welcoming you into their brokenness, into their mess. It reminds us that we are safe, no matter the circumstances. Their fearlessness calls to us to set our fears aside. We are free to choose connection over self-preservation.

If Vulnerability is the precious princess, then Self-Preservation is her ugly step-sister. She builds up walls and draws the curtains so no one can see that the house is a mess. Self-Preservation believes the lie, “I better get this right because it’s all up to me.” She can’t afford to fail because if she does, she’s doomed. She cannot let anyone know she’s not perfect, because then they’ll know the ugly truth that she’s been trying to hide: she’s not good enough. And so the step-sister compares and competes. She judges and justifies.

Staci Eldredge posed a question in her book, Captivating, that forever changed the way I think about vulnerability. 

“What if you have a genuine and captivating beauty that is marred only by your striving?”

A spirit at rest, a heart that believes in its own acceptance, is warmer than a summer sunbeam. Like light streaming through the window, it beckons you to come outside and play, full of wonder and awe. It’s absent of striving. It’s perfectly at rest. It is pure unadulterated beauty.

The voices of other’s opinions and the pressure of my own performance are quieted in the assurance of acceptance.

This is only possible when we believe that Jesus meant what He said when He breathed, “It is finished.” (see John 19:30) Our security, our place with Him in the Kingdom, our identity- it’s all settled. Our past has been forgiven, our present is provided for, and our future is secure. 

Here’s what Ephesians 1 says about our identity:

• We are accepted in the Beloved. 

• We are blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places.

• We are chosen.

• We are holy and blameless

• We are adopted as children of God.

• We have redemption and forgiveness.

• We have grace lavished upon us.

• We have an inheritance that is guaranteed by the Holy Spirit Himself.
  

I’ve found that the more secure I am in who Jesus calls me to be, the more open I am with my humanity. I no longer need to hide, because it’s no longer about me. I can be open about my faults, my wounds, my guilt, my sin, my depravity, because it all points to my incredible overwhelming need for Jesus the King. And He calls me accepted. Loved. Redeemed. 

So the call is this.

It’s part of our job sisters, to be open about the places we need redemption. What if your fear of being seen is the very thing keeping someone else from meeting their answer? 

Our friends’ hearts are at stake. Our sisters, our daughters. They need to hear this message that they are free to be beautiful. They need our fearlessness to beckon them to set their fears aside.

Through the tapestry of vulnerability runs the gleaming thread of Jesus, the Answer. My need…and your need my friend, will always point us to Him.