Category Archives: heart of prayer

The Inevitable Ups and Downs of Spiritual Growth

April 7, 2015gratitude, heart of prayer, joy, Mid life, personal growthlouise

Do you ever feel like your spiritual growth is measurable in two steps forward then one step back? For me it feels akin to a childhood game. I’d take four giant bunny hops forward and all but taste the victory. Then in my exuberance next round, I’d forget to say “Mother may I.” Back to the starting line. I was so frustrated with myself. The game only has one rule to remember, for heaven’s sake!

In case you can relate, I’m going to share a few things I had to remind myself of today, when I was frustrated with my spiritual setback — three truths good for getting us back on track when we slip off course. I’m not a theologian, but I’ve got some personal experience in recovering from derailment with the Bible as my encouragement. First, let me tell you the circumstances that prompted my writing.

Last week’s post left me high on God and life. To quote myself, “I want to live fully celebrating my life’s present potential and all that God just keeps making better! Gratitude is my new best friend, as we’re becoming more deeply acquainted.” Ahh… the bliss.

It was honest; spoken in acknowledgement of the Spirit’s real and amazing work in my heart that week. Thank goodness God is patient and long-suffering!

Fast forward to Sunday night; I was discontented, tired and teary. My thoughts were of gloom and doom. I still don’t understand all I was feeling, but I was definitely grieving and fearful. Why? Partially because I spent a wonderful Easter weekend in Atlanta with four of our five children. Then Rob and I came home to a silent house (I even returned the grand-dog we were babysitting). There was no junk food to comfort me. No laundry to distract… a funk set in. Our tidy empty nest felt foreign and bleak — all over again.

After doing such a great work in my heart, why did God allow me to slip so fast? I forgot to live to what I had attained through the Spirit’s guidance. I didn’t quit praying or forget Jesus. I did let the emotions in my heart of flesh get the best of me and caved to fatigue and doubt. Sound familiar?

I’m encouraged that the Bible addresses the inner turmoil of faithful people. Following are some thoughts and encouragement for our inevitable times of struggle: flesh vs. spirit. As Paul confessed, “For what I am doing, I do not understand; for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am doing the very thing I hate” (Romans 7:15).

1. Christians aren’t exempt from bad stuff on earth.

As has often been the case in difficulty, I wanted to implore God to spare me. He could save me from my darkness and fear without lifting a pinky — if He wanted to. But I’ve learned that’s not His usual MO. He wants more for me.

Good and bad is experienced indiscriminately by all people. “This is what God does. “He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty” (Matthew 5:44-45).

And the bad? Why does God allow the bad stuff to happen to His people? I’m not sure, but God created a perfect world before the fall. Much hurt results from the sinful action or inaction of ourselves and others. In this case, I temporarily ignored His Truth and drowned in my earthbound understanding.

Believing in Jesus doesn’t earn us a hall pass from the certain struggles and pain associated with a fallen world. John 16:33 says, “In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” Believing does mean we can trust God in it all.

Our disappointments give us a great chance to behave like Jesus. They test our level of surrender to His ways in our words, actions, and thoughts. He graciously offers to fill us with His Spirit where ever we offer Him our emptiness.

2. The more you offer God, the more interested the enemy gets in you.

This sounds like “bad” news. It’s not just that Christians experience common troubles. We also attract the attention of Satan (king of lies and adversity) when we live for God’s Kingdom. Untapped, lukewarm, Sunday morning faith doesn’t worry the devil so much. But when you make following Jesus your priority, Christ can use you for His purposes. And when He does, get ready cause you can count on increased attacks. The Christian life isn’t always easy. Spiritual warfare is real.

“Discipline yourselves, keep alert. Like a roaring lion your adversary the devil prowls around, looking for someone to devour. Resist him, steadfast in your faith, for you know that your brothers and sisters in all the world are undergoing the same kinds of suffering.” (1 Peter 5:8,9)

Keep the faith — the Good News is so much better. Jesus has already defeated our foe! James 4:7-8 says, “So humble yourselves before God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you. Come close to God, and God will come close to you.”

3. No matter what happens, God remains in control.

In the next verses Peter tells us this: “And after you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, support, strengthen, and establish you. To him be the power forever and ever. Amen. (1 Peter 5:10,11)

Hallelujah and thank you God for restoring me! I’m joyfully back in the game today — well except for getting frustrated during a morning of many long automated phone messages. Three babysteps back.

Let’s add a few more verses for reinforcement.

“I form light and create darkness, I make well-being and create calamity, I am the Lord, who does all these things.” (Isaiah 49:7)

“And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them.” (Romans 8:28)

“The Lord of hosts has sworn: “As I have planned, so shall it be, and as I have purposed, so shall it stand.” (Isaiah 14:24)

In Jesus we have the assurance of a life filled with hope and promise. Because of our flesh, fear and uncertainty we sometimes live in doubt. God wants to take all the love, joy and peace of heaven along with all the missteps, pain, and heartache endured on earth to create a story of grace fulfilling all His purposes in our lives.

“Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail.
They are new every morning.” (Lamentations 3:22-23)

I am greatly encouraged by your comments and thoughts! If you would like to get future posts by email, please let me know below. You can unsubscribe at any time.

A Midlife Prayer Offered in the Middle of the Night

March 26, 2015Freedom, gratitude, heart of prayer, joy, Live like you are dying, Mid life, Purposelouise

***I took this post down yesterday, so that I could add a few explanatory thoughts that might be helpful if this seems “heavy.” This is a real prayer first written in my journal – just between God and me. Friends have asked me how to pray — to have a personal relationship with Jesus. There are many answers. I decided to share one intimate prayer of my own.

I posted this with a lightness of heart and spirit only God can provide. He showed me that while the backside of life and the empty nest require a lot of letting go, it’s not predominantly about loss but change. And that there is value and purpose NOW – especially growing more like Jesus, which means more like myself every day. This half (including a few tears) is a wonderful gift we can slowly unwrap and savor until we understand fully what’s at its center (spoiler alert: it’s Jesus).

My blogs often involve being vulnerable and allowing others a view into my heart. My prayer below is a glimpse of a small fragment of my prayer-life — which is filled with honesty, love and joy. Please read this noticing how God moved me from acknowledging my fear (the world tempts us all with its ways) to victory and joy. To Him be the Glory!***

The response to moms at midlife was humbling. My husband said men experience similar emotions and told me he wanted to read more… for me to answer so what now?

I don’t know. I’m not there yet. God’s still working out His plan and asking me to share my journey as it unfolds. The vulnerability that requires is scarier than the actual experience. But God has never disappointed me when I listen and obey Him.

I’m no longer at home in my “normal” life. I usually sleep well, but restless, I started to pray this morning around 3 am.

Dear Jesus, I’m scared. I’m not sure who I am or what I’m doing — but I’m pretty sure I’m off-track. Something feels wrong. I need Your help.

I’m thinking about my children and the details of their lives; You are good. I’m worried about my parents, our business; You are sovereign. My neck hurts and doctors have no answers; You are my Healer…

I’m quickly recognizing that I’m more focused on circumstances than Your character and faithfulness. I’m not trusting You. Why can’t I hang on to what I know to be true? I know You use all things for good – I’ve lived it. Yet, I feel stress, unrest and fear. Is this something you can work with?

You say Your strength is made perfect in my weakness — I am ripe for the pickin. I know myself to be less strong, less in control, less knowledgable, less proud, less attractive, less useful… than I ever thought before.

I’m 50 years old and often don’t know what to do, and don’t do what I know is right. My head knowledge masquerades as faith, while my heart so often doubts the Truth. I don’t feel as together as I thought I would at 50.

I conformed to this world’s idolatrous bill of goods instead of believing Your Word alone. How ridiculous that I thought life was about events, accomplishments and circumstances I could piece together and control — instead of about You. Instead of fearing You, I’ve put you in a box I could understand, and built a life around that. It turns out it was a house of cards… and what has proven to be truly meaningful in my life is all about You, relationships and love.

I naively thought if I checked the boxes, did my best (or at least followed conventional wisdom), life would look a certain way. Today’s reality wasn’t my vision. In fact, this whole in-between stage was never on my radar. I’m totally caught off guard. My present life is a blank slate of sorts. Maybe that’s how you want it?

I know it sounds dumb — and it was — but I didn’t anticipate my body beginning to ache, pooch and wrinkle. Not yet. I believed in my parent’s immortality, too. I thought if I was a great mom I could protect my children, and they wouldn’t have to learn things the hard way as I did. It’s difficult letting go of what was and what was supposed to be, even though I know you love us all more than I can comprehend.

I took the financial climate of the 80s and 90s for granted, and let it offer me security. It’s obvious now that the global economy is fragile, and my trust was misplaced. You are my only real supply. And you offer abundance.

I’ve been surprised by the many troubles I’ve encountered in a fallen world, even though you gave me fair warning. I thought people were basically good and life would constantly get easier. I believed in arriving at some greener patch of grass — just around the bend. You are teaching me to lose entitlement and live in consuming gratitude — usually my best lessons have come in the midst of storms.

I welcomed the freedom of living in the United States and felt sorry for people in many other nations. “They” were the ones we send prayers, money and missionaries to. I never dreamed of terrorism on our soil or of Christians being persecuted here. I fear it’s only the beginning. I never thought I would really have to suffer for You. Listening to the news is beginning to humble me; I want to be courageous and honor Your Name, if that’s where You lead me.

Jesus, forgive me. I haven’t been humbled nearly enough by your completed work on the cross. Or overwhelmed by your love for me. I haven’t feared you. I’ve often asked You to bless my own desires, then been surprised by unfavorable outcomes. I haven’t understood my sin or taken it as seriously as You did. I still condemn myself instead of fully accepting your forgiveness and freedom. You are teaching me more and more about the magnitude of Your Grace, Glory and Majesty.

I can talk a good game, Jesus, but I want to walk your walk. Drink from your cup. I know how earthbound my heart is. My hope is in YOU Lord, but this world’s promises tempt and distract me. You are wooing me to be still at your side. To prayer and listening.

I see You in it all, Lord. Before me, behind me, holding me, guiding me. This season is a gift, isn’t it? Thank you!

Forgive me for resisting it. Keep teaching me what it looks like to repent. To turn toward You. Jesus, here I am at 50, a hot-flashing mess of a child. But I’m Your child and heir, and you love me. I desperately want You, despite my selfish ways. You will never leave me. You want to bless me with abundant Life.

My hands are open, Lord. Take what I need to let go of. Fill me with your Spirit. Teach me what it means to let You carry my burdens. Your yoke is light. Teach me how to love my neighbors well and how to be a friend who loves at all times.

Lord you are dissipating today’s stress and fear and replacing them with hope. I am closer to You than ever before. You are my Life. My changing body is clay in Your hands. Mold me into whatever vessel pleases you. I want to reflect You.

Thank you for this unique season where the noise is a little less and distractions more negotiable. I have ample time to pray; Lord give me discipline and desire for You. I want to hear Your voice.

Jesus, I sense this second half of life is less about loss than I thought. “To live is Christ and to die is gain.” You are actively working in my life. As long as I surrender my will, each day I will more closely resemble the woman you created me to be. I’ll be a little more like Jesus.

Give me patience in the journey. Sometimes I just want to be home with You. The joy of the Lord is my strength! Fill me to overflowing. I’ll trust You and lean not on my understanding. With You all things are possible. I will not fear for You have not given me a spirit of fear, but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. Teach me to trust Your Word, not my fickle feelings.

It’s a bold prayer offered in total weakness, Jesus. I’m trusting You to have Your way in my life and to help me remain focused on You. You knew this was how 50 would look on me. You began a good work in me and by grace through faith, You promise to finish it.

Thank you, Lord. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

I am greatly encouraged by your comments and thoughts! If you would like to get future posts by email, please let me know below. You can unsubscribe at any time.

Mid-life Mom… Who am I and What am I to Do?

March 23, 2015heart of prayer, loneliness, Mid life, personal growth, Purpose, waitinglouise

What happened to my flowers?!?

We went to the beach in the midst of a beautiful Tallahassee spring. My yard was full of color and promise; azaleas, Japanese Magnolias and Dogwood were splendid with blooms! Less than 48 hours later, the flowers of “spring,” certainly the shortest season in North Florida, were all but gone.

Pictures of the same Japanese Magnolia taken just days apart

Spring’s promise is being fulfilled too quickly for my tastes. It seems the transition happens overnight, as one day we wake up to the full-on green of summer’s heat. Cycles of change are inevitable in nature and in the lives of individuals — in my life.

I remember my mom saying each year passes more swiftly than the last. It made no sense to me as a child enduring the seeming eternity between Thanksgiving and Christmas. But today I agree with the generations before me. “Tempus do fugit,” as Granny liked to say agreeing with Mom; time flies.

I said in my last post I would write about “His continuing work of grace in my heart.” The time stamp says it was a month ago — I would have guessed 10 days. Barbara Bush had a quote about the life of young mothers being comprised of “long days and short years.” It’s so true! And for this 50-year old empty nester, this month has been similar. I am a mother without a child.

Lately I feel like a misfit: a stranger in my own body and mind — lost and confused. Something akin to the insecurity of adolescence when we are children in increasingly adult bodies, I am a searching version of my past self, with obviously aging skin, bones and muscles. The real me feels invisible in a crowded room.

With incessant digital capturing, I’m shocked at images of my middle-aged face and form — so drastically different from the athletic, unwrinkled woman inside. This matronly version of myself is not one I easily appreciate. And my mind? The forgetfulness, the confusion and unrest. Not knowing what’s next or what to do? Who am I?

In the little time my youthful self spent thinking about midlife, my current reality was not a part of my imaginings. Midlife crisis doesn’t fit because it implies recklessness and chaos. I don’t want to dismantle what I spent a lifetime building. Yet something tells me, even as Rob and I are creating a second infrastructure with “family” in mind, I need to face the truth that the old is falling away like the blooms of spring, and new growth is happening without my permission — it’s time to embrace it!

We are blessed and grateful that our children come home fairly often. But nothing is as it once was, and their departures back to their “real” homes always loom. Each good bye is a reminder that the full-time mom season is over.

I get up at 6:30 and begin my morning rituals — but why? I could kiss Rob good bye and sleep a bit more. Most days, I have no where I need to be and no one who is counting on me.

The remaining tasks still available from my stay-at-home-mom days leave me feeling empty. I used to create our family life, full of friends and activity. All that went into homemaking and being mom was fulfilling and gave me great joy. A place and a purpose.

Whether at work or at home, I’ve managed to “busy myself” through the days, even productively sometimes. Then, Rob and I continue the old nighttime patterns, as if we still need to be home weeknights — a rut of sorts.

Recently, I wandered around Fresh Market, departed and drove to Publix — pushing a shopping cart again, but collecting only a bag of grated cheese (I later returned it and left empty handed). The futility of my leftover routine overcame me. We laughed and enjoyed a night out.

I try really hard to live in the present, but I often carry the grief of moments gone. Sweet memories of times fully lived and the regrets of opportunities lost. Recently, I’ve been overwhelmed with longing for my familiar and imperfect but beautiful past life as a bustling family.

God has met me in these last weeks, full of grace and compassion. The funeral of a 90-year old family friend who lived exceptionally well gave me glimpses of my own finish line, my obituary. Thirty, forty fifty… they came so fast. I never really considered life beyond my little “family.” But I am here and God-willing, I have 25-30+ more years. I want to live well and age gracefully.

Psalm 92:14 says, “They will still yield fruit in old age; They shall be full of sap and very green.”

Everything in my life is fair game to offer for examination. To retain if still useful or to remove if outdated. I want to make room for God’s continuing plans and purpose for me. I feel more urgency to share His love. To engage others. More intentional and thoughtful about my steps than before, when doing all the things that made up my days was enough. Now I’m spending a lot more time praying, being still, and listening.

My conversations tell me I’m not alone in this unsettling stage — struggling to loosen my grip both on what always was and on what I thought would be. Wondering if I have the courage to create something new and to claim the life God has for me now.

At 50 I’m living the backside of what I always thought of as my “future.” My goal is to keep my eyes and my heart on God whose grace is eternal and whose work in me will continue until he brings me home.

Something inside whispers that being busy is not the same as being fully alive — and that I have a lot to look forward to, as each day I surrender to being more of who God made me to be. The great thing about the passing years is we get to hang on to every age, as we build on all God accomplishes in each season we are His child.

Isaiah 46:4 says “Even to your old age I will be the same, And even to your graying years I will bear you! I have done it, and I will carry you; And I will bear you and I will deliver you.”

I am greatly encouraged by your comments and thoughts! If you would like to get future posts by email, please let me know below. You can unsubscribe at any time.