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Imagine for a moment that you knew someone was a liar - that every word that came out of their mouth was a lie. Other people knew it, and you yourself had personal experience - first hand knowledge - that this was in fact true about this person,
Now imagine that this person hated you, had only evil intentions towards you, wanted to steal your freedom, and destroy you in every way. Would you listen to them? Would you give them your time and attention? Would you allow their words (which make you feel anxious, defeated, ashamed, unloved etc . . . ) to live "rent free," as we like to say, in your brain? Would you make space in your inner world for their twisted, distorted narrative? I do this more than I care to admit. Listen to what Jesus says about the devil in John 8:44: He was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies." And in Luke 10:10: The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. Tomorrow I'm heading to the Speak Up conference in Grand Rapids, MI. For the first time, I'm teaching a breakout session, and I am thrilled for the opportunity. And . . . as I've been preparing for this for the last several months, including recording my message on video for those attending virtually, I have entertained the father of lies more than once: When imposter syndrome has reared its ugly head, telling me, "You don't belong here. Who are you to be teaching at a writers/speakers conference?" When anxiety kicked in as I entertained the possibility and imagined how dumb I would feel if no one even comes to my workshop. Or first thing this morning, when rather than thinking about the conference, I was hit with an onslaught of negative thoughts about relationships and loved ones I have no control over, Thoughts that produce guilt, disappointment, confusion, condemnation, shame, hurt . . . It took me a few minutes to ask the oh-so-important question, "Whose voice am I listening to?" As I'm preparing for this event, as I"m living each day, doing my best to love God and those in my life, is God really the one whispering these thoughts in my ear, in my mind, in my heart? No. I can't imagine God sitting across from me while I'm having my morning cup of coffee saying these things. This has become my litmus test. To be clear, sometimes he says things that aren't easy to hear. Sometimes he corrects, shines a light on an area that needs attention, exposes areas where I need to grow, convicts me of something I've done wrong. But the undertone and the overtone is always love, not shame. It's hope-inducing, not defeating. It is correction without condemnation. When I've missed the mark, his words include a clear next step - a way forward. His words lead to peace, not anxiety. Grace, not judgement. I'm getting better at interrupting the narrative, as my counselor puts it, and recognizing this pattern earlier in the process. It takes time and intention to change mental habits, disordered desires, negative thoughts, and unhealthy neural pathways that have been formed by decades of distorted thinking. This is not easy, but it is possible. And it would be a mistake to think that this process is entirely psychological, merely a mental challenge. Yes, we have to do the work of taking our thoughts captive, of analyzing what we are thinking and believing and accepting as true, but we can't do it in our own strength.. 2 Corinthians 10:5: We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ. Romans 12:2: Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will. There is a spiritual component to this work - some may even say it is the root of our "stinking thinking" - that we approach with the help of the Holy Spirit. After all, this is part of the Spirit's job - his work in us, as Jesus explained to his disciples in John 16:13: "But when he, the Spirit of truth, comes, he will guide you into all the truth." Let's not miss this point: the devil is a liar; the Spirt of truth guides us into all truth. The Spirit helps us recognize when we are believing lies, when we are jumping to conclusions and making assumptions, when we are writing a story in our heads that is not true, when we are accepting as fact untruths born in darkness that are intended to wound us, erode our sense of belovedness, and cause anxiety and unrest. As is true in other areas of Christian living, our degree of freedom directly correlates to our degree of surrender. Greater yieldedness brings greater liberty. So let me ask you - whose voice are you listening to today? Are you allowing the enemy of your heart, mind, and soul to speak his native language and steal your peace? Here are some resources and practices that I've found to be helpful, and I pray you will too:
2 Corinthians 10:5 Philippians 4:8 Philippians 4:6-7 Romans 8:34 Romans 8:35-39  I remember walking in circles inside a drug store. I came in because I wanted to buy a couple of sympathy cards for friends, then I avoided the card aisle altogether because I spotted the Mother's Day cards for the upcoming holiday. I was caught off guard, sobs welling up from my broken heart as I stood in the middle of the shampoo aisle trying to regain my composure.
My tears in the shampoo aisle came just before my first Mother's Day without my mom. People say that when you lose someone you love, the firsts are the hardest - the first birthday, the first Christmas, the first Mother's Day. The previous year I was terrified that my mom would not survive her recently diagnosed cancer, and that fear became my reality. Most people who have lost a loved one have a story about falling apart at the grocery store. The details vary, and the trigger can be anything from a bag of potato chips to a beach hat, but the experiences are similar: you stop at the store to pick something up, you see something that reminds you of your loved one, and you are ambushed by feelings of deep grief and loss. After finding a couple of blank cards near an end cap, I wandered over to the Easter candy aisle thinking that some chocolate might make me feel better. That's when I saw the marshmallow peeps. Those were Mom's favorite, and I always bought them for her at Easter. Now they make hollow milk chocolate eggs with a marshmallow peep inside; she would have loved that. Before Mom died, she said things like, "I will always be a part of you" and "You'll always have me in your heart." As her daughter, I couldn't imagine then what it would be like to not have her here anymore. I couldn't imagine my life without her. But I am also a mom, and my relationships with my daughters help me understand what she meant when she said those things. When our youngest daughter, Brenna, was in kindergarten, she went through a phase where she felt disproportionately guilty after she had done something wrong. She would say, "There is just this voice in my head telling me I'm bad, that I never do anything right, that I'm not good." Finally, I thought to ask her whose voice it was in her head telling her those things. She looked at me like the answer was obvious. "You!" she said. I laughed and cringed at the same time. I had never said those things to her, but she had picked up on my frustrations and disappointments, and that translated into negative self-talk spoken in my voice. It was a good reminder that as a mom, my voice is powerful. We joke about hearing our mothers' voices in our heads, and when we are younger that may feel more like a negative than a positive. But we are lucky if over time her voice of wisdom becomes a part of us. In pretty much any given moment, if I quiet myself, I can imagine what my mom would say to me. I can still hear her voice and feel her love. Now I know what she was trying to tell me. Her love has become internalized inside my heart, and in a way that means she lives on in my thoughts. It means that she is always with me, in my heart. A few days after my emotional trip to the drugstore, I drove back to that same store and walked directly to the Mother's Day card aisle. It was hard, but I felt a little bit stronger. I stood silently, reading card after card, patiently searching until I found the one that best articulated what my mom means to me. Then I made my way to the checkout, passing through the candy aisle to pick up a package of peeps, even though I don't care for them. And in my heart I heard my mom's laugh. Adapted from Becky's book, Cancer, Faith, and Unexpected Joy: What My Mother Taught Me About How to Live and How to Die (Kregel, 2017). I finally had to stop collecting them. Each year during my holiday shopping, I would see a new Nativity set that called my name, and before long I had more sets than I had surfaces to display them. There is this classic one with a stable that I bought after the holidays at Meijer one year:  There's the one I bought while shopping with my aunt the day my uncle unexpectedly passed away:  There is the miniature one that is technically a set of tree ornaments, but I display them in our bathroom:  My sisters and I made a hanging wall Nativity when we were all newly married, and when our kids were growing up, we would read the nativity story in small increments and hang one character or object from the Christmas story each night before bed. After my grandmother died, I inherited the ceramic Nativity my mom gifted her many years ago. And I've passed along a couple of other sets to our adult daughters.  I think what I love most about Nativities are their purpose--they tell a story. Not just any story, but the greatest, central story about who God is and who we are and just how far He has gone to save, redeem, and restore us to Himself. It has been interesting to explore some of the history--much of which is heavily debated--surrounding the birth of Christ. Was He actually born in a barn? Or was it a stable, a cave, or a guest house? Were Mary and Joseph all alone, or were there midwives there to help? Was He really born in December or was it in early Spring, like some speculate? And why are the Wise Men included when they likely didn't visit the newborn King until He was not so newly born anymore? While these details are interesting and significant to a lot of folks, for me, they really don't matter. They do not alter or take away from the beauty and mystery surrounding that holy night so long ago. Here is what speaks to me: 1. Mary's surrendered heart: Mary was not perfect--she was human. She was waiting and praying for the Messiah along with everyone else (Luke 1:46-55). Yet, the angel Gabriel says she is highly favored by God. Her response to his astounding message reveals her heart, beautifully submitted to God and to His plan to bring the Messiah into the world through her. "I am the Lord's servant. May it be to me according to your word." Her posture was humble as she welcomed her son and Savior. 2. Joseph's obedience: Joseph was an upright man, but he knew there could be only one natural explanation for why his fiancé was pregnant. That is, until an angel visited him in a dream, offering a supernatural explanation and instructions to not go through with the quiet divorce he was planning. (It seems that when something humanly impossible is happening, the best way to deliver the news is through an angel!) Joseph believed the angel, believed Mary, obeyed his commands, and chose a life of obedience and trust. Exactly the kind of earthly dad and fatherly example Jesus would need. 3. The Shepherds: Again, the angels delivered the incredible news of Christ's birth, and to shepherds of all people! The shepherds, who stood on the bottom rung of the social ladder, were the first to hear that the Savior had been born for them. And they, too, believed (these angels were very convincing) and hurried off to find the babe exactly how the angels had described. The lowly shepherds worshipped the perfect lamb of God, the One who one day would be called the Good Shepherd. 4. The Wise Men: Prominent men from afar, following a star, in search of a new King. And when they came to the place where the child was (whether Jesus was sucking his thumb, crawling, or toddling around the house really makes no difference to me), they worshipped Him and offered their gifts. Three kings bowing before the King of Kings. 5. The Angels: They are the heavenly messengers delivering messages that would otherwise be unbelievable. 6. Jesus: Creator God enters creation as a baby: tiny feet, beating heart, blood pumping through veins. He walked in our shoes, suffered as we did, yet He was without sin. Perfect, and then broken, for us. Feet nailed to the cross, heart of love poured out, blood spilled to forgive our sin. And guess who was at the empty tomb to announce His resurrection? You guessed it, an angel! Each scene and each character in the story reinforces the supernatural events, abounding love, and amazing grace of God. Each person's unique experience corroborates the truth about who this baby was and their belief that what God had said was absolutely true. A baby in a manger, the Savior, born for you and for me. It truly is the very best story ever told. The story of the ages. The hope and fears of all the years, met in Him that night.  Years of waiting.
Decades of silence. Each generation hoping that they would see the Promised One. In the fullness of time He did come, But not as anyone expected-- Not as anyone could have imagined. Born to a virgin in a borrowed shelter, He appeared, and the soul felt its worth. Lowly shepherds worshipped the perfect Lamb of God. Kings from afar humbly bowed before the newborn King of Kings. Good news proclaimed to the poor, Healing for the brokenhearted, Freedom for those in captivity, And recovery of sight for the blind-- A thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices, And yonder breaks a new and glorious morn. Jesus was not what anyone expected but exactly who everyone needed. I, too, am waiting. In quietness and trust I find my strength. Each year, praying for salvation, redemption, freedom, recovery, For the restoration of all that is broken-- In this world, in my family. . . in me. His patience must not be mistaken for slowness in keeping His promise, For it's His kindness that leads us to repentance. His love transforms every heart that prepares Him room. He is still opening blind eyes and freeing captives. He is still the Good Shepherd, chasing after the one who wanders. It’s the very reason He came—to seek and to save those who are lost. So, I wait with expectancy for Him to do above and beyond all I could ask or even imagine. I’m trusting the One in whom all things hold together, our Savior, our cornerstone. The hopes and fears of all the years are met in Him alone. —Becky Baudouin
Today, Bernie and I are celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary. As I've been thinking about and reflecting on our marriage, I remembered an interview I saw years ago with an actress on a morning show. She was asked about the secret to her long (and seemingly happy) marriage. I’ve never forgotten her reply.
“Well, If we want to grow old together, most of us are going to have to persevere through some hard years.” Sometimes I hesitate to share posts like this, because I am mindful of those who have gone (or are going) through a separation or divorce. I’m mindful of those who have lost their spouse and the opportunity to grow old together. I'm thinking of those who are in very difficult marriages, feeling little hope that things will get better. And I’m especially mindful of those who may be in a an abusive marriage, because I don’t believe we are called to persevere through abuse in marriage. If this is you, please seek help and wise counsel so you can determine your next steps (1-800-799-SAFE (7233). If you are grieving the loss of your marriage, I pray for God’s comfort and peace. And if, for any reason, these thoughts and reflections are not helpful or do not resonate with you, that's OK, too. While I'm sensitive to those who are hurting, I choose to share this because I know there are SO many of us in those “in-between” years--somewhere between “newly married” and “growing old together”. We are establishing households, starting families, raising and launching kids, or maybe blending families from previous marriages. We are building and re-inventing careers, doing ministry together, taking care of aging parents, navigating losses and financial stress and illnesses and all the hard stuff life throws at us, and we are doing it all from our limited, flawed, human conditions. We are living with varying degrees of brokenness: carrying past hurts into our present relationships, struggling with hang-ups, perpetuating poor communication patterns, choosing unhealthy (and often times, costly) coping mechanisms, and repeating destructive habits. Many of us will absolutely go through some really hard seasons in our marriages. We will have moments where we think, “This is where most people walk away. This is where most people call it quits.” We will grow weary and be tempted to grow bitter as our hearts harden toward the one we promised to love and cherish “till death do us part”. If this describes you, can I encourage you to keep going? To not give up? Researchers have found that two-thirds of unhappy adults who stayed together were happy five years later. They also found that those who divorced were no happier, on average, than those who stayed together. This is astounding data, and it makes me wonder why we don't hear more about persevering through the hard seasons in marriage. Generations before us thought it noble to "stay together for the sake of the kids," and I understand some of the reasons we've moved away from this in our current culture. For example, I've heard some of the 'kids' from these families (who are now adults) say they wish their parents had just divorced because their home environment was so toxic and miserable, When I encourage you to keep going, I don't mean to keep running on a broken leg. I'm not saying to keep operating in dysfunction to the detriment of you and everyone around you. However, I don't think the shift we've made is much better. The marriage pendulum seems to have swung all the way to the other side, with personal happiness being the highest value, and when one person (or both) in the marriage feels it's no longer serving them, they opt out. There is this pervasive message that if you've fallen out of love, if you've grown apart, if you no longer feel satisfied with the person you made vows to, a better, easier life awaits you on the other side of divorce. Yet, the second finding in that study was that "those who divorced were no happier, on average, than those who stayed together." I recently had a conversation with a young twenty-something adult who is unsatisfied with their job situation. They've worked a few different jobs over the last couple of years, and there always seems to be something out there that looks more promising, When I suggested they stay in their current job for awhile, establish some seniority, and grow through the challenges, their reply was eye-opening for me. "Wow. I guess I never thought about sticking it out and staying with something that's not great right now to see if it may get better." I would propose that "staying together for the sake of the kids" isn't enough. It's not what any of us really want, is it? But growing together? Learning together? Allowing God to transform us together as he heals and shapes us, as he empowers us to change and become more loving people? As He shows us His plan and design for marriage? This is where perseverance can make all the difference. Perseverance can include endurance, but it goes further:
If we just coast along in our marriages, toughing it out but staying miserable, hoping things will get better on their own, they probably won’t. If we continue to sweep things under the rug, ignore problems, react defensively, enable destructive behavior, and pretend like the brokenness in our relationships and in our lives isn’t real, then we will not heal. We will continue to be stuck in the unhealthy patterns we keep repeating, and we will feel powerless to change. The truth is, we are always moving in one of two directions: towards perpetuating our brokenness or towards healing. The choice is ours, every single day. Perseverance is about actively moving toward healing and change. It's about trying again, and maybe trying something different than the last thing that didn't work. It’s about seeking to understand what each of us is contributing to the breakdown in our relationships. And I don’t think we can--or were created to--do this on our own! Here are some ideas (taking into account the resources available to you) for moving toward healing as you grow old together. See if one or two resonate and then move forward with it!
This is our marriage story--30 years, a handful of them really hard, but more and more of them really good. Bernie and I just launched our youngest to college, are recent empty nesters, and this summer we moved back to my home state of Michigan. Through all of these changes, I can't express enough the gratitude we feel that we are doing this season of our life together. There was a time I didn't know if we'd get here. We are (and always will be) works in progress, AND I am beyond grateful for what God has done for us and in us. We are definitely growing older (no question about that!), and we are doing it together. We wouldn’t be here without God’s grace. Without Him making a way for us through what seemed like irreconcilable differences. Without our marriage counselor and medical professionals, without our former church’s marriage ministry—where we experienced so much healing and learned skills that transformed how we communicate—and our Tribe of people who have walked us through and prayed us through those hard seasons. Without our friends and family who are walking us through this season right now. And without our kids who have given us three good reasons every day to keep going. Truly, to God be the glory.  If you feel like you are limping into 2024, you are not alone. Don't get me wrong; I appreciate all the motivation and encouragement to start the year off strong. I, too, have eaten my weight in sugar and cheese over the holidays, and I, too, am looking for ways to reset, recharge, and recommit. I'm definitely wanting to jump on the wagon with everyone else who is resolving to eat healthier, exercise more regularly, and read through the Bible this year. I want to do better, be better, live my Best. Life. Yet.
But the transition from 2023 to 2024 feels a bit shaky for me, and I'm having trouble finding my footing. Anxiety and grief from this previous year are weighing on me as I take my fist steps into this new year. Most days, I feel like I'm stumbling alongside the moving wagon of good intentions but can't seem to actually get enough momentum to hurl myself on it. Maybe you can relate? New Year's Resolutions are about modifying and improving things we can control: our behaviors, routines, and habits. That's why the motivation and inspiration this time of year can be really effective, at least for awhile. Change requires effort. So we keep showing up. We do the hard work to grow, to get healthier, to repeat the desired actions that will create the positive habits that will produce a better life. God grant me the courage to change the things I can. But what about all the things we can't control? For some of us, the promise of a new, better year is over-shadowed by the difficult circumstances rolling into the new year with us. Just as our troubles didn't magically disappear over the holidays, they aren't going to vanish into thin air in 2024. We may be facing hard realities we are powerless to change and, for a few of us, may even grow harder with each passing day, week, and month of the new year. Some of my friends are caring for aging parents or spouses whose health is rapidly declining. My mom was diagnosed with an aggressive type of cancer eleven years ago, right before Thanksgiving, and by Christmas we knew it was both inoperable and incurable. As we looked ahead to that new year, it wasn't through the lens of high hopes and new dreams; rather, we couldn't help but wonder what kind of grief awaited us. What would Easter and Mother's Day look like? During which month would we be saying our goodbyes and planning her funeral? Some of us are walking through some terribly difficult seasons right now. What we need, more than anything else, is peace. But how can we have peace when life around us is in chaos? When broken relationships, financial hardship, addictions, sickness, mental illness--and a whole slew of troubles we cannot control or fix--touch us and the ones we love, keeping us up at night and following us through our days like a dark shadow? Where can we find peace when life is a mess? God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change. I don't know about you, but when I am craving peace I look for reassurance in what is observable. Measurable. Tangible. I want to see something with my eyes and hear certain words with my ears. I want concrete data. How would you finish this sentence? If only ________________________________________________________, then I would have peace. (. . . then I could sleep well at night. . . . then I could relax and enjoy life . . . ) I hate to be the one to say it (as much to myself as to you), but if our peace is dependent on anything we wrote in that sentence above, it will remain out of reach. Sure, we may have temporary moments of relief and reassurance--glimmers of serenity--but only until the next disappointment, the next phone call bearing bad news, the next argument, the next unexpected expense, the next bad scan, the next relapse. . . . only until the next shoe drops. Jesus offers us something truly amazing. He offers us peace that is not attached to our circumstances or particular outcomes. Peace that transcends our understanding. It is peace unlike any reassurance the world or any person can offer us. It is not dependent on what we see with our eyes or hear with our ears or experience in this life. It strips uncertainty of its power over us and guards our hearts and our minds. It is a supernatural gift. “I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid. (John 14;27) "I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33) You may not be able to control what is happening around you or how 2024 unfolds, but here are some truths you can absolutely count on: 1. God is good.
2. God knows.
3. God is with us.
4. God is able. (Right now, this is my favorite attribute of God.)
There is truly no peace like the peace that Jesus gives, and it is ours for the taking. It's available to us in every moment, regardless of what is happening around us, as we keep our eyes on Him. I'm craving a peace that is more than fleeting. I'm longing for a sustaining, enduring peace as I abide in His love and steadfastly trust in Him. You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock. (Isaiah 26:3-4) My prayer for 2024 is that we would indeed have courage and strength to grow, improve, and change the things we can; and for all that is outside the scope of our control. may we grow in our ability to trust our good, loving, all-knowing, always-with-us, all-powerful God. May each new day bring us closer to Him as we let His peace rule in our hearts and minds (Colossians 3:15). The Serenity Prayer God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference. Living one day at a time, enjoying one moment at a time, accepting hardships as the pathway to peace. Taking, as Jesus did, this sinful world as it is, not as I would have it, trusting that He will make all things right if I surrender to His will, that I may be reasonably happy in this life and supremely happy with Him forever in the next. Amen. -written by Reinhold Niebuhr, an American theologian, in the early 1930s  This quote has been on my mind since my friend sent it my way a couple of months ago. I keep coming back to it, and it is shaping the way I think about prayer.:
"Regardless of what crisis or complexity may be threatening to engulf your life, God is at work. You may not see it, but you need to know it’s true. And He’s not just doing one or two or a few things in that situation. He is doing a thousand or more things." -Nancy Leigh DeMoss Especially over these last couple of weeks, I have felt as if someone clicked, dragged, and dropped me inside of these words. As our family has walked through a recent crisis, as we've faced complexities and problems that threatened to engulf us, as our friends have surrounded us, lifted us up, and carried us in prayer, we've seen God move and protect and provide and open the way before us in ways we never could have imagined. In ways we could not have orchestrated on our own. We've seen circumstances play out in such a way that, when we look back and put the pieces together, we realize a number of seemingly random, separate things that worked together for our good. This idea of God working in a thousand or more ways that we cannot see reminds me of a story in Scripture found in 2 Kings 6. The king of Aram had sent his army to capture Elisha the prophet (the man of God) and his men. 15 When the servant of the man of God got up and went out early the next morning, an army with horses and chariots had surrounded the city. “Oh no, my lord! What shall we do?” the servant asked. 16 “Don’t be afraid,” the prophet answered. “Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.” 17 And Elisha prayed, “Open his eyes, Lord, so that he may see.” Then the Lord opened the servant’s eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha. ". . . God is at work. You may not see it, but you need to know it's true. " Like Elisha's servant, I am often fear-stricken by what I see right in front of me. At times it has felt like an enemy army surrounding us. So I've been praying for God to open my eyes, that I may see what is really going on, in the vast spiritual world I cannot see with my human eyes, beyond the circumstances I'm facing. Maybe you need your eyes to be opened, too? I'm praying that I could see His army surrounding us and know that "those who are with us are more than those who are with them." Maybe you need this assurance, too? I'm remembering that our God is able to do immeasurably more than I can think or even imagine, according to His power at work within us (Ephesians 3:20-21). Maybe you need to be reminded, too? I'm realizing that God is even now answering prayers I've been praying for months and years. That in the midst of everything falling apart, God is at work, restoring, healing, and working things for our good. To him be glory . . . throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen.
Today, Bernie and I are celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary. As I've been thinking about and reflecting on our marriage, I remembered an interview I saw years ago with an actress on a morning show. She was asked about the secret to her long (and seemingly happy) marriage. I’ve never forgotten her reply.
“Well, If we want to grow old together, most of us are going to have to persevere through some hard years.” Sometimes I hesitate to share posts like this, because I am mindful of those who have gone (or are going) through a separation or divorce. I’m mindful of those who have lost their spouse and the opportunity to grow old together. I'm thinking of those who are in very difficult marriages, feeling little hope that things will get better. And I’m especially mindful of those who may be in a an abusive marriage, because I don’t believe we are called to persevere through abuse in marriage. If this is you, please seek help and wise counsel so you can determine your next steps (1-800-799-SAFE (7233). If you are grieving the loss of your marriage, I pray for God’s comfort and peace. And if, for any reason, these thoughts and reflections are not helpful or do not resonate with you, that's OK, too. While I'm sensitive to those who are hurting, I choose to share this because I know there are SO many of us in those “in-between” years--somewhere between “newly married” and “growing old together”. We are establishing households, starting families, raising and launching kids, or maybe blending families from previous marriages. We are building and re-inventing careers, doing ministry together, taking care of aging parents, navigating losses and financial stress and illnesses and all the hard stuff life throws at us, and we are doing it all from our limited, flawed, human conditions. We are living with varying degrees of brokenness: carrying past hurts into our present relationships, struggling with hang-ups, perpetuating poor communication patterns, choosing unhealthy (and often times, costly) coping mechanisms, and repeating destructive habits. Many of us will absolutely go through some really hard seasons in our marriages. We will have moments where we think, “This is where most people walk away. This is where most people call it quits.” We will grow weary and be tempted to grow bitter as our hearts harden toward the one we promised to love and cherish “till death do us part”. If this describes you, can I encourage you to keep going? To not give up? Researchers have found that two-thirds of unhappy adults who stayed together were happy five years later. They also found that those who divorced were no happier, on average, than those who stayed together. This is astounding data, and it makes me wonder why we don't hear more about persevering through the hard seasons in marriage. Generations before us thought it noble to "stay together for the sake of the kids," and I understand some of the reasons we've moved away from this in our current culture. For example, I've heard some of the 'kids' from these families (who are now adults) say they wish their parents had just divorced because their home environment was so toxic and miserable, When I encourage you to keep going, I don't mean to keep running on a broken leg. I'm not saying to keep operating in dysfunction to the detriment of you and everyone around you. However, I don't think the shift we've made is much better. The marriage pendulum seems to have swung all the way to the other side, with personal happiness being the highest value, and when one person (or both) in the marriage feels it's no longer serving them, they opt out. There is this pervasive message that if you've fallen out of love, if you've grown apart, if you no longer feel satisfied with the person you made vows to, a better, easier life awaits you on the other side of divorce. Yet, the second finding in that study was that "those who divorced were no happier, on average, than those who stayed together." I recently had a conversation with a young twenty-something adult who is unsatisfied with their job situation. They've worked a few different jobs over the last couple of years, and there always seems to be something out there that looks more promising, When I suggested they stay in their current job for awhile, establish some seniority, and grow through the challenges, their reply was eye-opening for me. "Wow. I guess I never thought about sticking it out and staying with something that's not great right now to see if it may get better." I would propose that "staying together for the sake of the kids" isn't enough. It's not what any of us really want, is it? But growing together? Learning together? Allowing God to transform us together as he heals and shapes us, as he empowers us to change and become more loving people? As He shows us His plan and design for marriage? This is where perseverance can make all the difference. Perseverance can include endurance, but it goes further:
If we just coast along in our marriages, toughing it out but staying miserable, hoping things will get better on their own, they probably won’t. If we continue to sweep things under the rug, ignore problems, react defensively, enable destructive behavior, and pretend like the brokenness in our relationships and in our lives isn’t real, then we will not heal. We will continue to be stuck in the unhealthy patterns we keep repeating, and we will feel powerless to change. The truth is, we are always moving in one of two directions: towards perpetuating our brokenness or towards healing. The choice is ours, every single day. Perseverance is about actively moving toward healing and change. It's about trying again, and maybe trying something different than the last thing that didn't work. It’s about seeking to understand what each of us is contributing to the breakdown in our relationships. And I don’t think we can--or were created to--do this on our own! Here are some ideas (taking into account the resources available to you) for moving toward healing as you grow old together. See if one or two resonate and then move forward with it!
This is our marriage story--30 years, a handful of them really hard, but more and more of them really good. Bernie and I just launched our youngest to college, are recent empty nesters, and this summer we moved back to my home state of Michigan. Through all of these changes, I can't express enough the gratitude we feel that we are doing this season of our life together. There was a time I didn't know if we'd get here. We are (and always will be) works in progress, AND I am beyond grateful for what God has done for us and in us. We are definitely growing old (no question about that!), and we are doing it together. We wouldn’t be here without God’s grace. Without Him making a way for us through what seemed like irreconcilable differences. Without our marriage counselor and medical professionals, without our former church’s marriage ministry—where we experienced so much healing and learned skills that transformed how we communicate—and our Tribe of people who have walked us through and prayed us through those hard seasons. Without our friends and family who are walking us through this season right now. And without our kids who have given us three good reasons every day to keep going. Truly, to God be the glory.  Sometimes we think of prayer as a last resort. When we’ve exhausted all our own efforts, abilities, ideas, and brain power, we say, “I guess the only thing I really can do is pray.”
Boy, is that backwards. Paul writes in Ephesians 3:20 that God “is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us…” This means that whatever idea I have for how God could work in a situation, He’s got something far better. This means that anything I could possibly come up with for how God could answer or move is too limited. Any request I make is too small. Anything I can dream of (or even imagine) is incomplete. Too short-sighted. Too temporary. Let me say it again: God can do IMMEASURABLY MORE than all we ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us. We see the problems in front of us; God sees eternity. We see one or two things He could do; He sees a thousand. We are praying for that one person we love, for God to work on their behalf; God is working in innumerable ways around that person, in the lives of many more who are connected to them, because God’s love is SO MUCH GREATER than ours. The scope of His grace, love, purpose, power, and plan is beyond our understanding. His reach extends far beyond our little worlds. Isaiah 55:8-9 says, “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord. “As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Prayer is not meant to be our last resort. It needs to be our first line of defense, our initial response to what is happening around us, our knee-jerk reaction to the concerns, triggers, and disappointments we face every day. And if all of this is true (which I 100% believe it is), then here is the best news: I don’t have to figure it out. I don’t have to tell God what to do. I can pray with a surrendered heart, from a posture of humility, and with great anticipation knowing that He is going to work in ways I can’t. Even. Imagine. For His purposes, praise, and glory. Amen!  Big resolutions intimidate me. You know . . . grandiose, mind blowing, epic promises of transformation. As in, by the end of 2022 I will be a different woman! You won't even recognize me after I . . .
Yep, it's going to be a great year. But first, I need to go take a nap . . . You may have guessed it by now - I typically do not make resolutions. At least not these type of too-specific, too-vague, too-unrealistic kinds of promises. To be clear, I think there are times and seasons when these kinds of resolutions may be exactly what we need. Sometimes we reach a point where something's gotta give. Desperate times call for desperate measures. We need to make big changes if we want to change our lives in big ways. But most years, what I really need is the power of small changes. I need bite-sized action steps. I need what John Trent, in his article, Course Correction (first published in Thriving Family Magazine, 2009), calls the "power of 2-degree changes." Using the illustration of a steering wheel in a car, he demonstrates the power of small shifts on the course of our lives. When you turn a steering wheel just 2 degrees to the right or left, over time, it changes the direction of where you are headed. 2-degree changes - both positive and negative - have the potential to run us off the road or move us in a better direction. Over time, these small adjustments add up to a cumulative impact on our lives. Small, steady changes have the power to transform our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health as well as the health of our relationships. So instead of big resolutions hanging over my head, I'm thinking of smaller, doable shifts:
If you haven't yet taken some time to look over that last year and reflect on where you've been, and then look ahead and think about where you are headed, I'd encourage you to do that. I have been spending some time reflecting on this and here are some helpful questions I've explored: What healthy habits am I already doing, and how can I continue/increase these as I head into 2022? What habits have I developed that are unhealthy, and how can I move away from these and make better choices? (This may include unhealthy relational patterns or patterns of addiction - wherever we may be moving towards things as a way to escape/cope with stress, pain, or loneliness.) What relationships are life-giving? How can I intentionally increase connection with people who inspire, encourage, challenge me (in good ways) and fill my bucket? What relationships may be pulling me in a direction I don't want to go? Do I need to distance myself from or change the way I am engaging with certain people as I create healthier boundaries? Are there people whom I need to forgive or ask forgiveness for something I have done? Where has God been moving-stirring-prompting me in service or ministry to others? How can I grow and develop the gifts he has given me for the good of others and to bring Him honor? Where might God want me to increase giving my time, energy and resources? Where might God be wanting me to pull back and refocus my attention? Is there an area of my life where I need healing, and is God leading me to get help from a trusted friend, leader, or counselor? How have I grown closer to God over this past year? Was it through a Bible study, small group, time spent alone with God in prayer? How will I increase this, and what pathways enable me to best connect with God? Looking at what is and is not working is incredibly important as we move forward and think about the small shifts we want to make in 2022. One final thought: While most of us experience a few monumental, pivotal moments in life, most of our growth and transformation happens through the small, steady changes we make from one day to the next. I love how Paul David Tripp puts it in his book, New Morning Mercies, A Daily Gospel Devotional:  Whether our resolutions are big or small, I pray that 2022 will be a year of increasing growth and transformation for us all. May we daily draw closer to Jesus as He continues the good work He began in us. (Philippians 1:6)
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