The world has enough “successful” people, but too few who know how to love. Imagine the difference we’d make if we chose to fully love all of those within our sphere of influence. Such love would be a greater contribution to our world than any of the greatest missions in history. #thegiftoflove
The one who turns night to day and winter to spring can usher a new day and season into what man would call the most hopeless of lives. Change is not an impossible dream. It’s just a matter of tapping into the right power source.
Source: Tapping into the Power Supply
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It’s hard to write when the heart is heavy. Hard, but therapeutic. There’s something freeing about weaving thoughts into words. I’ve often said I don’t know what I really think about something until I get it down on paper.
And so in the pain and confusion that so often is life, I’m grateful for pens and journals and computer keyboards. Even though I just spent a half hour pouring my heart out on this topic and the computer deleted every last word. Ugh. Admitted, I attempted to strangle my computer after the fact. Not so therapeutic.
Anyhow, I’ve found that writers are called to bear burdens. One is called modern technology, but that’s the least of them. Often, we’re called to walk through valleys long before anyone else gets there—just so they won’t be alone once they do.
When Moses was called to lead a nation of former slaves through the wilderness, he asked for help from a man named Hobab, telling him, “Please do not leave us. You know where to camp in the wilderness, and you can be our eyes.” This man had been through the wilderness, and now his calling would be to help others make their way through.
Every burden we’re called to bear endows us with strength and wisdom to help others when they encounter similar trials. Each of us has been entrusted with a gift of suffering in whatever form it comes, which enables us to lighten the burden for others when they walk under the heaviness of life’s trials.
This is true for everyone, but I find it to be true for writers in particular. Words have the power to free and encourage, strengthen and uplift. If our words are to gain such power, we must go through many difficulties to bring them to birth. In the end, it will be worth it, if even one life is changed as a result.
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Last Sunday I went out to walk the dog and found a little boy wandering around the parking lot with no shoes on, no parents in sight. I asked him if he lived in our apartment building, and if I could help him find his parents, but he couldn’t speak clearly. It was early in the day and he looked so disoriented I decided to call 911. While he petted my dog and my kids entertained him with toys, we waited for the police to show up.
It turns out he’d been missing since 6am…almost four hours. His mother came to the door frantic, crying, overwhelmed. All I could do was hug her and let her know I understood. Losing a child for even a minute is every loving parent’s worst nightmare.
I can’t stop thinking of that morning, and how that child was wandering right where I was walking, just waiting to be found. Most days, I walk the dog much earlier, but I believe God’s sovereign hand led me to the right place at the right time for the sake of that lost child. I’m thankful that morning I asked God to open my eyes and order my steps.
Too often I rush through my agenda, too busy to notice those in need. Maybe, without God’s help, I would have hurried through the door, glanced at the little runny-nosed child, and returned to my comfortable routine, presuming his parent was nearby though unseen. But God intervened.
How many people do we encounter each day who are lost? Not in the physical sense, but in every way adrift. Spiritually, emotionally—searching. Waiting to be found.
Every day we pass them by, not looking beyond their smiles and into their eyes. They’re in pain, hurting, waiting for someone to intervene. But we’re too busy to notice.
Father God, slow us down! Open our eyes to see those who are waiting to be found. Order our steps, and let us be your hands, helping you to find them.
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A few days ago, I was the one waiting on the butterflies to emerge from their cocoons. Now they’re waiting on me. Or, rather, we’re waiting on the weather. We can’t set them free until the time is right.
When it’s warm enough, we can release them from their temporary habitat so they can fly unhindered. Problem is, the weather’s crazy out here in the Midwest. We never know what’s gonna happen. Our April has felt more like winter than January did. And so, we wait.
Today, three of the butterflies climbed to the top of the netting, wings twitching in anticipation. From where they sit, they have an expansive view of the outdoor field where their greater destiny awaits. Freedom calling.
It feels so harsh, holding them back when they could fly free. They don’t know that if I release them now, they’ll die. It’s too cold for their delicate wings.
Sometimes we wait on the verge of our destinies, wondering what’s holding us back, and why. We don’t understand how we could leave our cocoon behind only to find ourselves in another cocoon. It’s larger than the original, but we have wings now. We were made for more.
We need to remember there’s “a season for everything, a time for every purpose under heaven.” If God is holding us back, it’s for a purpose. The season may not be right just yet. But in due season, the warmth will rush in, ready to embrace us.
It may seem we’re being unfairly restrained, but If we move forward in the wrong season, we’ll never reach our destinies. We’ll die in the cold. When the season is right, we’ll fly free. If only we wait.
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Wisdom is learning that saying no might actually be the most loving thing we can do. It’s understanding that our no means yes to something greater, and realizing if we’re too busy to stop and love people, we’re too busy. The world will keep spinning if we say no to the lesser things. But it will miss out if we don’t say yes to the best God has for us.
“I cry out to God Most High, to God who fulfills his purpose for me.” (Psalm 57:2)
Source: When No Means Yes
I’ve been thinking a lot about legacy lately. What is it I will leave behind for future generations? Not in terms of material things, but in terms of life-impacting actions.
Maybe it’s the ever-increasing news of widespread hatred and violence that prompts this reflection. Or news of those now hailed as heroes all for devoting their lives and resources in pursuit of self-gratification. Or the featured news story praising a forty-year-old pop star for singing about the size of her behind.
I can’t understand what drives our generation to hateful acts that scar generations to come. Or to believe courage is anything less than laying down our lives for the good of others. Or to think our middle-aged years derive their worth from the size of our rear-ends—enough to deem it a song-worthy legacy.
In light of all this, I ask—what do I want my legacy to be?
Not hatred or violence, that’s for sure. Not a life lived in vain pursuit of self-gratification. And I’ve been to enough funerals to know the size of my behind won’t matter any more at the end of my life than it does now.
What if my legacy has nothing to do…with me? What if it has everything to do with the lives I influence for the good of the world here and in eternity? Knowing this would change how I use my time and my words. It would change how I invest my talents and resources. It would transform my goals, my actions.
At the end of my life, I don’t care if anyone remembers my face, or even my name. I only hope I’ll have planted enough seeds of love to grow life-outlasting fruit. And I hope to have rightly represented our God of grace, mercy, truth, and love to have drawn people to know how amazing he truly is.
“He has shown you, oh mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” (Micah 6:8)
This Life & Beyond 
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