Tag Archives: strength

The tiniest seed

Have you ever had one of those weeks, or months, where you keep seeing the same message over, and over again?

Usually when that happens to me it’s because God is trying to get a message across. And for the last several weeks it’s been all about a seed.

A mustard seed, to be exact.

How many of you have seen a mustard seed? It’s pretty small, right? Smaller than a 1 carat diamond, tinier than a grain of rice. But did you know it can grow into a tree that is between 6 – 20 feet tall, with a 20-foot spread of branches?!

I only know this because God has put this verse in front of me so many times over the past month that it instigated my need to understand more.

And when they came to the crowd, a man came up to him and, kneeling before him, said, “Lord, have mercy on my son, for he has seizures and he suffers terribly. For often he falls into the fire, and often into the water. And I brought him to your disciples, and they could not heal him.”  And Jesus answered, “O faithless and twisted generation, how long am I to be with you? How long am I to bear with you? Bring him here to me.”  And Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of him, and the boy was healed instantly. Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, “Why could we not cast it out?” He said to them, “Because of your little faith. For truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you.” – Matthew 17:14-20

One moment Jesus tells his disciples that they are lacking faith and that’s why they could not heal this little boy. But then in the same breath he says all you need is the tiniest amount of faith — just the size of the smallest seed you can imagine — and it is enough to overcome seemingly impossible obstacles. At first, I could only gather that Jesus is telling the disciples that their faith is seriously lacking and doesn’t even amount to a tiny seed.

But as I continued read and research more about the mustard seed, and the other times Jesus had used that analogy, I began to understand that it was less a rebuke of the disciples lacking faith, and more a picture of just how big God’s part is compared to ours.

I think what Jesus is really saying is that all you need is a little bit of faith, and God will provide the rest. He will provide the sunshine and rain, and fertilize the soil so our mustard seed size faith can grow and expand to be a 20 foot tall tree.

We bring just a little to the table in comparison to what He brings.

I don’t know about you, but this is such a comfort to me because sometimes I feel like I have just the tiniest bit of faith. When I’m filled with fear, doubt, and anxiety my bold Sunday-morning, tree-sized faith starts to crumble and crack.

When things get really, really bad I let the words from the enemy consume me and my faith shrinks even more.

And then, just when I think I’ve been through every kind of hard there is, when I think my faith can’t possibly be stretched any further, I find myself on my knees sobbing, and crying out, “Lord I don’t think I can do this, I don’t know that I have enough faith to get up off the floor and move forward.”

And He whispers back, “I will pick you up and be your crutch. Lean on me.”

When I think that I’ve done everything God has asked of me, and I’ve trusted him with my future, my marriage, my children. But then my husband is in the hospital, or my child is suffering and scared, I find myself driving down the highway saying, “God, I don’t think I can do this. I don’t know that I have enough faith to trust you to heal them.”

And He says, “I am the divine healer.”

When I’ve said, “Yes, Lord, I want to obey your calling in my life, I am prepared to be your follower, your disciple, I’ll lead small group Bible studies and women’s retreats.” And then right in the middle of a really bad day, when my son is melting down and my husband and I are fighting and 8 friends are about to walk through our front door for Bible study, I think, “God, I am not equipped for this, my faith is too small to offer hope and encouragement to others.”

He says: “It is my hope they seek, not yours.”

This verse reminds me that God does the heavy lifting, not us. We don’t need a huge, mountainous supply of faith because we have a God who more than makes up for our shortcomings. He knows that I will struggle and sometimes my faith will feel really, really small. He knows there are times I won’t feel bold and brave, but scared and broken.

His promise is that as long as I cling to Him with just the thinnest thread of faith, HE will do the rest. He will give me power to move mountains. Because my strength comes from Him, and not from me.

 

 

Matthew 17:20

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You strike a woman, you strike a rock

Updated March 8, 2017. Originally published August 9, 2014.

Several years ago I was in South Africa on a business trip that happened to coincide with their Women’s Day. The national holiday, which is celebrated each year on August 9th, commemorates the day in 1956 when  20,000 South African women marched to government buildings in Pretoria to protest the inequality of women, including a law that required black women to carry “identity passes”. The peaceful protest marked a significant milestone in the women’s and race equality movements in South Africa. It’s reported that after marching to the Union Buildings the women sang a song called Wathint` abafazi, Strijdom that includes the line wathint’ abafazi, wathint’ imbokodo, which translates to “you strike a woman, you strike a rock”.

The same strength, resolve, and courage of those women can be seen in women across history and geography. I think all the way back to 478 B.C. and Queen Esther, who stood up to her King and husband to save her people. I think of Americans Elizabeth Cady Stanton and Susan B. Anthony who paved the way for women’s rights in the United States in the late 1800’s. I think of women like Manal al-Sharif and Aziza Yousef who are fighting today  for women’s rights in Saudi Arabia. And then…

I think of my daughters.

What will it be like for them to grow up as women in the 21st Century? Living in a world that is becoming an increasingly more global society, where the plight and struggle of women in foreign lands must become the fight and protest of women across the world. I wonder, will they take for granted the freedoms and equality they have in their land of birth? Or will they read about girls in India being raped and neglected, and cry tears for them? Will they see TV reports about the girls who have been kidnapped from their homes and schools in Nigeria, forced into slavery and marriage, and become incensed? Will they learn of the girls stolen or bought from their homes in Eastern Europe, Asia, and South America and sold into slavery right here in their own backyard and feel motivated to act?

Will my daughter’s know that they have the  power  responsibility to fight for women across the world? How do I raise my girls to understand that there has never been a more opportune, more precise moment than right now to take action and change the future for all women?

To know that when you strike a woman, you strike a rock.

It’s a staggering responsibility, but I’m comforted to know that there are those who have gone before, paving the way. Organizations like The Seed Company and their Esther Initiative, with the single goal of translating and sharing over 20 Bible stories that will teach women of their value, worth, and the love of God. The Esther Initiative

Companies like Noonday and Fashion and Compassion that are creating “pathways out of poverty” for women in underdeveloped and vulnerable countries around the world. And organizations like Days for Girls ensuring no girl misses school simply because she doesn’t have access to sanitary supplies.

Because, when you strike a woman, you strike a rock.

And I can teach my girls through example.

By shopping from companies that empower women artists and entrepreneurs, I can show them that what we buy and how we spend our money can make a difference in the lives of women around the world. By planning and leading a women’s retreat twice a year I can show them the importance of self-care and nurturing their relationships with Jesus and with other women.

When I speak of other women I can comment on their strength, their hearts, and their virtue instead of their clothing, their hair, or their size.  When I engage with other women I can treat them as equals, as sisters, and as friends, instead of as competition for men, or jobs, or attention.

I can show them through my words and actions that strength is beautiful, kindness is powerful, and education is the key to unlocking doors; that they deserve to be cherished and respected by the men in their life. And to always remember the One who envisioned all they could do and be when He created them with love.

Because, when you strike a woman, you strike a rock.

 

graduation
Education is the key to unlocking doors, girls

There is more. So much more that can be done, needs to be done so my girls grow up to be sisters of change. But this is where I start.

Because, when you strike a woman, you strike a rock.

To my daughters, and to all of the beautiful, strong, and smart women in my life and around the world: Happy International Women’s Day!

Lord, help me get through this

Today is kind of a big day for me.

Nope, it’s not my birthday. Not my wedding anniversary either.

One year ago today I mailed my capstone and finished grad school.

Yeah, so what? (you’re probably thinking) Lots of people finish graduate school.

And you’re right. But this anniversary is really not so much about finishing grad school or even finishing my capstone project and handing it over to the FedEx guy. It’s really about what happened when I walked out of the FedEx office and climbed into my husband’s truck. When I finally gave in to the tears I’d been holding back for weeks. The ugly, dripping, snotty, wrecked sobs. When I let go and let myself feel the weight of the previous three months — the hardest months I’d experienced in years.

Do you ever have a week, a month, or maybe even a year when you start to think, “Really God? What else could go wrong? What else could possibly come my way? Why is all of this happening to me?” And then finally, “God, I really can’t take one more thing. I just can’t.”

That was how things were for me last May. As already mentioned, I was in the throws of finishing up grad-school. I was already worn down and burnt-out from 3.5 years of going to school part time while also working and caring for a young family. And this final push was to be the most challenging as I worked to create an 86 page integrated marketing plan for St. Jude Children’s Research Hospital — in 9 weeks. Then, just as I was starting on my project, my husband came home early one afternoon. He had lost his job.

We were shell-shocked. He’d been employed with the organization for 3 years and just received a raise three months earlier. We never saw this coming. But I knew it was no time to get sucked into worry and fear. So I steeled my shoulders, took a step forward and said “we will get through this.” And I prayed, “God, I trust you. Please help us get through this.”

The following week my husband started feeling sick. He went to bed and woke up the next morning and half of his face was paralyzed. The doctor diagnosed it as Bell’s Palsy. While treatable, the doctor said it could be months before the paralysis was fully healed. Treatable or not, when the face you wake up to every morning — the face of the man you love — becomes paralyzed, it’s freakin’ scary! But, once again, I thought, “I can’t show worry or fear. I need to be strong and help him get through this.” So I steeled by shoulders, took a step forward and said “we will get through this.” And I prayed, “God, I don’t understand why this is happening. But I still trust you. Please help us get through this!”

A few weeks later I was driving to pick up my kids from school and I got in a horrible car accident. My car was totaled. Miraculously, both the other driver and I walked away uninjured. I was very shaken up by the whole thing because I knew it could have been so much worse. I knew that if my kids had been in the car with me, it probably wouldn’t have ended with everyone walking away. But, I couldn’t go there. I couldn’t dwell on that. Instead, I steeled my shoulders, took a shaky step forward and said, “I’ll get through this.” And then I prayed, “God, really? How much more? I trust you, I do, but really, how much more can one person take?”

Then a few days later I noticed there was something wrong with my beloved cat of 14 years. She couldn’t walk straight or stand-up to eat. I took her to the vet and he said she probably didn’t have long, but he didn’t think she was in any pain. I watched her deteriorate over the next three days, while I struggled between making the decision to euthanize or to let her go on her own. Finally, she went, but it was not a peaceful death. It was painful and ugly and I cried for her and for me. Still, I knew I couldn’t give in to the grief. I had to power through; finish my project, show up for work, get my kids from here to there. So I steeled my shoulders, placed one foot in front of the other and said, “I’ll have to get through this.” And then I prayed, “No more, God! I just can’t take any more. Please, show me your plan. I’m finding it hard to keep trusting. To keep going. Please make it all stop.”

For the next five days, with head down and placing one foot in front of the other, I worked almost around the clock to finish my capstone. I finally finished everything the morning the project was due. I spent several hours proof reading and making edits and then raced out the door to the copy place. I knew I had to get it printed, bound and dropped off with FedEx before 6 p.m. or it would be counted late. Of course the printers at the copy place didn’t want to work. Then, the binding was off. I steeled my shoulders as I stood at the printing counter, watching the minutes on the clock tick by, waiting for them to resolve the issues. Finally, it was done. I ran out the door, one foot in front of the other, jumped in my husband’s truck and we raced to FedEx. Just as I was filling out the shipment slip, the driver came in for the final run of the night. I had made it just in time.

So, my friends, I’m sure you understand how it came to be that by the time I walked out that door and into that pick-up truck, I was done. I could not steel my shoulders any longer. I couldn’t keep going. And, honestly? It felt good to admit it to myself and just let the stress, sorrow and worry all come rushing out, flooding me until I felt like the pile of wet Kleenex accumulating at my feet. And that’s how I came to God — a soggy, crumpled mess — and said, “thank you; thank you for getting me here, on the other side.”

I came to God a soggy, crumpled mess and said thank you.

After a few days of catching up on sleep, clarity started to return and I saw just how much He had done to get me through it.

A few days later my husband was offered a job. A job he loves, and where he is much happier. And I realized what a gift those two and a half months of unemployment had been. He was able to spend time volunteering at our kids’ school. He took care of dinners and housework so I could focus on my capstone. He was able to rest and heal from his illness. And by the time he started that new job, the paralysis was gone.

Not only did I walk away unharmed from the car accident, but the woman who had caused the accident stayed with me until the police arrived, told them the truth and gave me her insurance information. Her insurance company gave me absolutely no hassle and cut me a check for more than I think my car was even worth. Certainly enough to put a down-payment on a new car.

While I still mourned the loss of my sweet girl, I realized how fortunate I was that she chose home to die, as so many pets escape to a hidden place to die alone. I was with her in her final days, and she went when she was ready, so I didn’t have to make the decision to end her life.

Oh, and my capstone? I got an A. And a shiny piece of paper that says I have a Master’s of Science in Integrated Marketing and Communication.

But the view is always clearest in the rear-view mirror, isn’t it?

In the months following I watched dear friends go through hardships and grieve losses that no one should ever have to experience. Things ten times worse than what I experienced last year. And that, of course, put my rough patch into perspective. But the thing is, in most cases they did the same thing. They woke up each morning, steeling their shoulders, putting one foot in front of the other and praying to get through it.  Because sometimes…that’s all you can do.

Steel your shoulders so the pain doesn’t knock you over.

Put one foot in front of the other so the sorrow doesn’t consume you.

Pray to God for healing or help or strength, even when you don’t understand any of it. Even when you are mad at Him for letting it all happen.

Because, He will get you through it. One day at a time, He will lead you through whatever hardship you are facing. Whatever loss you are mourning. It may only be once you come before Him a wet, crumpled up mess, sobbing at His feet. But He will pick you up and brush you off and stand you up.

And one day, I believe in my heart, one day, you will be able to look back and celebrate that time in your life because you will finally see where He brought healing and mercy. The moments He loved on you and strengthened you. The days he gently steeled those shoulders because you didn’t know how, and moved your feet forward because you were too exhausted.

You will look back and see He heard your prayers. He led you through the storm.