Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

No Big Picture – Part 2

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Chewing on thoughts from Scripture never fails to produce results. Maybe that’s why we are reminded so often to meditate on God’s Word.

That was definitely the case as I continued to meditate on John 5:19-20 after the verses literally jumped off the page at me. I shared my immediate thoughts last week, but the concept continued to deepen. Continued to form. Continued to work on my heart.

Here are the verses again, just as a reminder:

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, the Son is not able to do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son likewise does these things. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing, and he will show him greater works than these so that you will be amazed. John 5:19-20 CSB

The initial realization was that Jesus didn’t have the big picture. By choice. He surrendered it when He took on flesh.

That is mind-boggling enough. But, the more I contemplated it all, the more the enormity of the situation began to sink into my slow brain. Before taking on flesh, the Son didn’t have to be shown anything. He was part of it. He automatically knew it. John 1 tells us that He was there in the beginning. He already existed with God. He knew it all because He ordained it all.

But He surrendered that full knowledge when He took on flesh, putting Himself in a place where He had to rely on the Father to show Him what was going on. He had to trust that the Father would show Him what was relevant when it was relevant. And He never doubted that it would happen, because He trusted the Father’s love and wisdom explicitly.

Here’s where this all hits me. I crave the big picture in life as much as I crave it in my job. I want to see it all so I can then break it down and tackle each step as needed. In my work, that’s necessary. The issues I’ve had in recent years have come down to the reality that I haven’t had enough information, and those who’ve had the information have neglected to give it to me. There was a breakdown. I work for good people. But they miss things. Because of that, I can’t automatically trust them to give me what I need when I need it.

In a way, that’s an understandable frustration with the small reality of work. But, when I crave it in life as a whole, the life that is supposed to be 100% surrendered to the Lord Jesus Christ and, by extension, God the Father, it reveals a problem. A sinful lack of trust kind of problem.

God the Father knows what I need. He knows when I need it. If it comes from Him, I can trust that it’s enough to take the next step, as long as I’m listening faithfully. He never gives too little. If I mess up, it’s because I responded poorly to what He gave me; it’s never because He didn’t give me enough information or the right information.

And yet, I often treat Him like my boss and coworkers. I fuss that I need more. More information. More guidance. More clarity. More…something. That I need to see the big picture. I need to see where He’s taking me so I can figure out my next steps.

That’s faithlessness, pure and simple. Sinful faithlessness.

Ouch.

I have tried to orchestrate life. Break down the big picture. Make things fit just so. And I’ve hit brick walls of frustration on so many things. But the Lord spoke into my striving, whispering truth into my spirit. He showed me the answers He’s already given me. He pointed me to prayers I’ve been praying and how my current uncertainty is actually an answer to some of those prayers. He showed me the action I need to take right now. Today. This week. It doesn’t solve next week or next month. It doesn’t make all of the pieces come together. In fact, it tempts me to ask more questions.

But God isn’t calling me to solve those things. He’s calling me to trust Him today. To see what He has put right in front of me and to do that. Only that. To leave the rest — the big picture — in His hands. Because He knows what to do with it. For all the ways He’s gifted me to break down dreams and visions and ideas into tangible actions, He has not gifted me to solve life’s big issues. That’s His job, not mine.

So today I confess my lack of trust. I repent of my whiny refusal to act simply because I don’t have all the information I think I need. I surrender my need for the big picture. And I make a commitment to do follow along with what I see the Father doing today.

In work. In life. In everything. That’s more than enough.

Posted in What I Do

Not Today

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

My writing hour is almost done.

I’ve spent most of it writing. Processing. Polishing. Pondering. And I have nothing immediate to show for it. There isn’t a post I can click publish on or a complete thought I can share. There’s just a bunch of stuff “in progress.” It will get there — at least, most of it will.

But not today.

If I were to post those thoughts today, they’d feel like an airplane unable to land. Or they would communicate something completely different from what I really want to communicate.

So, I’m sitting here thinking about my self-imposed blog schedule. About my desire to have something go live in just a few minutes. And I’m confessing to myself that I just don’t have it today.

But, here’s the thing. I’m going to post this. These words of confession. Not to be legalistic in my blog planning but to just keep me going. To keep something happening here. Because I know if I stop the habit for a day, I’m likely to drop it completely. If I let an off day derail me, I’ll stay derailed. It’s my personality.

So, I’m sharing a post that, in my mind, is pointless. I’m publishing words that, on their own, really don’t do much for myself or anyone else.

But sometimes it’s not about the words. Or the results. Or the specifics. It’s about keeping on when there’s nothing there.

Like today.

Posted in Tool Box

The Tool for All Tool Boxes

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I must admit to a bit of a chuckle as I start this thought.

I don’t know of a single person who likes to be called a “tool” or relegated to the idea of simply being a resource or a useful thing.

And yet, when it comes to building tool boxes to fit current needs or prepare for something we desire to do — any hobby, habit, journey, adventure, activity, job, task, or any other noun we can think of — the people around us truly are our greatest resource. If we have nothing else, we should grab onto people!

First, people provide real experience.

Even if we’re trailblazing and doing something no one else has technically ever done before, we’re blazing those trails because of the experience of people who have accomplished much before us. They’ve laid groundwork, created the resources we use, or simply lived an example of what it means to blaze those new trails.

How much more should we lean on that experience when we are carrying on a torch, continuing the work of those who have been doing it for generations?

Wisdom based on the experience of others can come in many forms. It can be found in books written across the centuries. In information shared through our many avenues of modern media (yes, even social media can have good uses!). In products and resources created by others to equip our journey. In personal relationships with those who share our interests.

Sifting through the experience of others will require patience and wisdom, but it’s an invaluable resource when it comes to building your own tool box.

People understand resources.

In my homeschooling years, one of the most common and important, yet also most problematic, questions fellow homeschoolers asked was, “What curriculum should I use?” Let me tell you, homeschoolers are very ready to let you know what their favorite homeschool curriculum is and why it’s absolutely perfect!

But, that was never the best advice. The best advice came from those who stopped to say, “Tell me about your family.” Before offering a single suggestion, they wanted to understand the needs of each child and the dynamics of the homeschool family. Then and only then would they offer suggestions about resources.

That’s the kind of people you want to lean on as you build your tool box. The ones who will understand who and where you are. The ones who will share with you as you experiment. The ones who aren’t offended if you choose a resource or path that’s different from their own because they know you have different needs.

Again, some of these people will be those you know personally. Others will be people who share information through websites, podcasts, books, or other resources. Whoever they are, look for those who understand what it means to match people to resources, not just promote a “one-size fits-all” solution. (That’s as much of a myth in filling your tool box as it is in shopping for clothes, by the way.)

Finally, people offer community.

This is truly the most important one. You want to gather people who stand beside you. Provide encouragement. Offer guardrails to keep you from going too crazy. But also provides safe space to let you get a little crazy (because that’s a necessity for any growth).

They might not actually share your new adventure. And that’s okay. If they’re willing to walk beside you, that’s incredibly valuable.

Adjacency is a popular concept these days. Adjacent play. Adjacent work. People each doing their own thing, but together. Consider how much easier it can be to do certain tasks, even distasteful ones, if you simply have someone nearby. It’s always easier for me to focus on work when my husband is working from home and sitting at the desk next to mine. It’s easier for my daughter to tackle housework if she has someone there to jabber at, even if they aren’t actually helping with the work.

People.

If you don’t gather anything else, gather your people. It’s the one tool you’ll never regret having.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Scripture

No Big Picture – Part 1

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I love the way different brains work. I love seeing how we process tasks set before us in very different ways. And I love how we need each other to tackle a task.

For instance, some people can envision projects. They can see what doesn’t exist and create ideas. To be honest, those people blow my mind! If it doesn’t already exist in my awareness, I’m very unlikely to come up with it.

But, the people who come up with those ideas often struggle to know how to implement their dreams and visions. That’s where I often shine. As long as I have the tools and knowledge at my disposal to make it happen, I can break down a dream or vision into practical, viable action steps.

Here’s where things break down for me, though. I can take a big picture and break it down for a whole team, then see exactly where I can complete tasks within my strengths that work well with the strengths of other people on the team. Or, if someone else has already broken it all down, I can so very easily coordinate with the rest of the team as long as I have the big picture.

For most of my adult life, I’ve been in roles where I had the big picture, primarily because that is where I function best. I either had the big picture because I was part of making the vision practical, or I’ve had it because I’ve been one of the people on the team always “in the know.” Only occasionally have I operated with merely a slice of the information. Only rarely have I been the one working task to task, having to wait for the next assignment because I had no concept of the big picture that would automatically give me context for how my current assignment fit or what I might be called on to do next.

Those times have not gone well for me.

Unfortunately, that’s where I have found myself for quite some time in one of my roles. Working task to task with no real context for how it fit in the big picture. Just the task ahead of me. It has worked…technically. But there have also been many times when I’ve wasted time doing something that fit the letter of the task at hand but didn’t fit with the big picture. Times when I’ve done things the old way, not knowing that the “way” had changed. Even times when I’ve messed up completely and caused something to break and have to be fixed. All because I didn’t know the big picture.

It has been frustrating. Where in the past I’ve been either responsible or at least “in the know,” in recent years I’ve been on the outside. Given just enough information for what’s right in front of me, with no context or big picture. My work has felt stagnant. No learning. No growing. No problem-solving. Just completing tasks that I can’t even see the purpose for — especially in those times when the tasks have ultimately been dumped because they weren’t needed after all. (And those are usually the tasks that, in the past, I would have recognized early on in my “big picture breakdown” and would eliminate. But without the big picture, I couldn’t eliminate them.) In short, I’ve struggled a lot and have questioned so many times if I needed to just walk away.

And yet, even though that work is mindless and doesn’t allow me to grow, this life situation has caused growth. I just didn’t realize it until I was smacked upside the head while reading John 5.

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, the Son is not able to do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son likewise does these things. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing, and he will show him greater works than these so that you will be amazed. John 5:19-20 CSB

When I read this, I immediately was convicted of my need for the big picture, not just in work, but in life. In following Christ.

Jesus surrendered the big picture and chose to simply follow the Father. I’m supposed to be like Jesus.

Maybe, just maybe, I can practice this with the “small” thing of work, trusting Him to guide me to be the best employee I can be. And then maybe that practice will expand to the bigger scope of life.

Hmmm. Maybe that’s worth chewing on a bit.

Posted in What I Do, Work & Life

The Fear of Writing

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Anytime I come back to a healthy habit after stopping for a while, I have a strong temptation to delay working on the new habit while I get “caught up.”

Take writing as an example. My structure is to use a tool called Scrivener to create my thoughts. I have color coded labels for the thoughts, based on where they are in the writing process. Some are just ideas tossed out to marinate for later writing. Others are slightly more fleshed out ideas that I call “In Progress.” Not quite to a rough draft yet, but definitely more meaty than a basic idea.

Then I have the rough drafts, and occasionally I have a small stockpile of completely edited posts or articles that simply haven’t been published yet. Finally, there are the ones marked as published to my blog. Technically, they are supposed to be stored in a separate folder, but frequently I don’t get around to moving them as soon as I publish them. So, they simply add one more splash of color to my menu of thoughts and ideas.

Those colors are what I see as I open Scrivener for the first time in a while. Colors connected to titles. Titles that I sometimes vaguely remember and other times seem to have no recollection of creating. So, naturally, sifting through those titles sounds like a lot more fun than actually writing. I can organize. Finally get those published articles moved to their own folder. Read through all of the drafts to see if there’s anything I want to edit. Read through all of the ideas to determine whether or not they are still viable.

Don’t get me wrong — editing a rough draft is a great way to get back into writing. And writing prompts, especially prompts I’ve created for myself, can be extraordinarily helpful when I’m out of practice or don’t have current ideas.

The problem is that I frequently don’t actually ever get around to editing or fleshing out a prompt. I just review. Organize. Piddle. Plan.

I don’t write.

Why? Because, if I’m honest with myself, I’m scared. Scared that the ideas will never come again like they used to. Scared that, even if they do come, they won’t be any good. Or even if they’re good ideas, I won’t actually be able to communicate them in a way that makes sense. It will simply be rambling confusion that does no one any good.

Scared that I’m wasting my time believing that writing is a part of me. The evidence is there. I’ve craved writing for as long as I can remember. In fact, I recall a time as a preschooler when I had a pencil and a piece of paper. I had no idea how to form letters, much less words. But I had thoughts. I had seen my mom write things down, and I wanted to do the same. I vividly remember the intense feeling of frustration because, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t make my scribbles look like words. I couldn’t create something that could be read again later.

I physically couldn’t write. But oh, how I wanted to! How I longed to be able to record the things I was thinking, even at the young age of three or four.

Yes, writing is a part of me. But there are so many reasons I still shy away from writing. So many reasons I prefer to waste time reviewing. Evaluating. Organizing. Anything to keep me from writing.

Recently, I restarted this writing habit. On that first day, I didn’t even let myself review prompts. I made myself create a blank page and just start randomly filling it. Stopping, starting, deleting, redirecting. I allowed myself to edit as I went along, but only to the extent that it kept me going. Kept me writing. Kept me filing the page with thoughts, no matter how random or disjointed.

It might be that no one ever reads those thoughts. It might be that, if they do, they won’t follow what I’m trying to say. It’s happened a lot. It will happen again.

But I’m writing. I wrote that day. I’m writing today. Tomorrow I may review my ideas to see if there’s one I can flesh out. The next day, I might edit something and get it to final draft status. But today, I’m just writing.

Here’s to rebuilding the habit.

Posted in Work & Life

Filling a Tool Box

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Have you ever wanted to try something new?

Perhaps a new hobby. A new type of social interaction. A new volunteer opportunity. Even a new career.

If so, you know how it feels to stare down something brand new, something you’ve never engaged with before, and not have a clue what to do next.

So, what do you do? You start gathering information. You begin to evaluate what you need to know just to take the first step.

Some people will quickly jump in as soon as they have that first step, while others will continue to gather information and build a plan. Either way, though, starting requires tools. And starting well requires the right kind of tools.

But what is the best way to gather the right tools?

Before my family went to the mission field, my father built houses. I don’t know if it’s an accurate memory or not (I would have been four or five, and that’s been more than a few years!), but I have this vague mental image of Dad coming home at the end of the day and setting down a tool belt.

Obviously, the belt wouldn’t have had everything he needed for the work he did each day. But, the idea in my head is of him having the most essential tools on him at all times. A hammer. A tape measure. A utility knife of some sort. A level. A square. A pencil or two (I know he always had those on hand!).

When I think of gathering the right tools for any sort of task, I picture that utility belt. And were I to ever pick up any type of woodworking hobby, my father is the first person I’d ask for help in gathering basic tools. While he has a whole shop full of tools that he has collected over a lifetime, I know that he would readily tell me that I didn’t need all of that to get going. He could point me to the handful of core tools that would set me on the right path to building the right skills.

So, the logical choice would be to go talk to Dad, right?

But would I? Or would I instead sit down and Google woodworking? Search shopping sites for the right set of tools and ideas. Hunt down an all-in-one kit that would get me off to a “solid” start. Sounds like a brilliant way to spend a lot of money on things I don’t need. Yet, how often do we do that instead of going to the real people around us who could offer solid, genuine help?

I doubt I’ll ever get into woodworking. But, when I want to do something with my yarn stash, I don’t start with Pinterest or Etsy or even Ravelry. I start by chatting with my daughter and our friend Nora, both well experienced in yarn crafting. Then, we might go to their favorite pattern sources to look for ideas. (Although by now I also have my own favorite, trusted source for crochet patterns!)

When I recently started thinking about dabbling with a different hobby, I got books and supplies as Christmas and birthday gifts. The books, while incredibly helpful for building technique, suggested some pretty high quality, but also very high dollar, supplies. More than I wanted to invest to experiment with the hobby. So, my husband thought to send a message to a friend of ours to ask for suggestions that were solid but more budget-friendly. He came through, and I found quality supplies at a fraction of the cost — as well as some tips that fit my brain’s learning style.

Now expand that idea beyond even hobbies. What do you do if you want to start a new small group? Teach a Bible study? Lead a book club? Start a local scouting chapter or homeschool group?

Yep, you got it. Find someone you trust who can help you fill your tool box.

Over the coming weeks, I would love to share a few of my tool boxes with you. They may be helpful, they may not. But my intention is less to offer you a ready-made tool box and more to help you grow ideas of your own. To share how I’ve filled various tool boxes, where I’ve started, and how I’ve chosen the tools. And yes, to even admit where I’ve messed up and snagged the wrong tools.

Ultimately, I hope it will inspire you to think of tool boxes you’d like to fill and who you might ask for help. Or to take a look at tool boxes you already own and think about how you would recommend good tools to someone else.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Scripture

Comfort

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

“Comfort, comfort my people,”
says your God.
“Speak kindly to Jerusalem and tell her
that her time of warfare is over,
that her punishment is completed.
For the Lord has made her pay double for all her sins.”
Isaiah 40:1-2

I just love the book of Isaiah. I don’t slow down as often as I should when I read it. But when I do, it always grabs me, both in the devastating first part and the hopeful second part.

Isaiah 40 is one of the better known passages of the book, thanks to its Messianic tone and frequent reference in sermon, song, and more. Because of that, sometimes it’s easy for me to read through it without slowing down. I know what it says. It’s familiar. It’s clear.

When I do slow down, though, I’m nearly blown away. Just think about it for a minute. For centuries, God had watched His people reject Him, ignore Him, disobey Him, and suffer the consequences of their refusal to follow Him. They blamed Him for their suffering even while choosing to chase after the things He explicitly told them would hurt them.

Ultimately, they chose punishment instead of His care. His heart grieved, but He knew that the only way to get their attention was to allow them to experience the consequences of their choices.

That’s the first part of Isaiah. But then, the story shifts, enough so that some theologians insist that the second part of Isaiah had to have been written by a different author. And yet, it all comes from the same God. The God who instructs and lays out a clear path of obedience for His people. The God who gives His people a choice. The God who grieves when His people choose to reject and disobey Him. The God who allows the punishment and consequences to fall.

And the God of chapter 40 who declares comfort.

When someone has hurt me, I may forgive them, but I don’t necessarily embrace them again. I will either walk away completely, choosing a separate path from them, or I’ll erect a barrier that keeps them at arm’s length.

Not God! He leans right back in. He embraces. He comforts. He restores intimacy. He draws His people close to His heart, putting them right back on His path.

How astounding is that! How loving! How powerful!

And what should my response be?

First, to recognize the boon this is for me. He takes me back. He embraces me. He welcomes me back into His intimacy even when I’ve messed up royally. He loves my confession and repentance and is right there to welcome me back into His embrace every single time, comforting me even as I grieve over my choice to hurt Him…yet again.

Second, to be a reflection of this to those around me. They, too, are that close to His comfort. His intimacy. His grace and mercy and lovingkindness. And I get to be a conduit of that.

I get choked up every time I think of how Isaiah must have felt when this message flowed through Him to the people of Israel. He’d been proclaiming judgment and punishment. Destruction and captivity. Suddenly, though, he could declare comfort and intimacy. He had the opportunity to speak of the incomprehensible love of God, to declare its closeness and assurance. Where he’d only been able to speak of doom, he could now shout about joy.

What a treasure! What a delight! And I get to declare the same thing, but with even more clarity than Isaiah because I know the rest of the story! Instead of knowing that sometime in the future there will be a Savior, I get to look back and see how Isaiah’s prophecies were fulfilled through the incarnation of Christ.

I get to point to the exact moment in history when the comfort of God was sealed through the destruction of death. Wow!

This is the truth I want to live. Abundantly, powerfully, openly. Declaring God’s comfort to all, that they may have the chance to receive — no matter where they’ve been.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Life, Uncategorized

Just Do Something?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

When you’re stuck, unable to figure out what to do next, sometimes the best thing to do is…something. Anything. Just move. Break out of the lethargy. Just do something. There’s something to this when we lack a solid vision of what’s next or are struggling with creativity that seems to have gone AWOL. The act of just taking action, no matter what that action may be, can kick us into gear.

Kind of like that 5-speed that won’t start no matter how many times you turn the key. But, give it a good push or start it rolling down a hill, then pop it into gear, and it will fire right up as pretty as you please! It’s quite the fun trick!

If we look around, though, I think we might find ourselves surrounded by people who have chosen to do something instead of doing the one thing they are supposed to be doing. These aren’t the people who are stuck. Uncertain. Struggling to figure things out. These are the people who know what it is they are supposed to be doing but are hesitant to jump out and do it.

On the one hand, it’s completely understandable. Often the things we know we should do are more than a little frightening. They represent change. We can’t see the big picture. Sometimes we can’t see past the very first step, and we’re afraid of falling flat on our face with the second one.

So, we decide to test the waters. We do this little thing over here to try to build up our courage. We do that little thing over there to try to nudge our creativity. We’re doing something, right? We’re trying to get ourselves motivated to do what we know we’ve been called to do. That’s good, right? Maybe even enough for now?

I have news for you. For myself. For all of us. It’s not enough.

Why? Because it’s not what God has called us to do.

Just doing something is a step to keep us active when we don’t know what to do next. But the honest truth is that most of us know what we’re supposed to do next. We might not have a grand vision or a five-year plan. We might not know how this step of obedience is going to play out in the grand scheme of things. But we know what we’re supposed to do next.

Write that note.
Have that conversation.
Apply for that job.
Go to that doctor’s appointment.
Volunteer for that event.
Audition for that role.
Make that gift.
Take that lesson.
Put your house on the market.
Plan that move.

Write and publish that blog post. (Getting personal now.)

I could go on and on and on. For some of us it’s a big thing. We know that the next step is a life-changing one that will leave us on the brink of the unknown. For others of us, the next step seems very tiny. It won’t take us more than a few minutes. Yet we put it off because we know the consequences could be bigger than we can possibly foresee.

But, we’re not obedient.

Today, if you are in a spot where you really and truly don’t know what you’re supposed to do next, then I encourage you to just do something. But I imagine that the vast majority of us are in a very different place. We know a next step. We’re just avoiding it.

If that’s you, don’t just do something. Do that thing.

Step out. Be obedient. Take the plunge. And know that the God who gave you the instruction already has every step covered. He’s got you, even if you can’t see Him. He’ll keep you going. He’ll show you the next thing in His perfect timing. As long as you will go ahead and take that step today.

Let’s do our things together today, shall we?

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Life

Choosing Our Light

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Today I am struggling with a lot of angsty thoughts that I can’t really communicate well…or kindly, to be honest. But, this old post fits and feels relevant. So, instead of a brand new angsty post, I’ll share these old thoughts and then add a few new ones at the end.

This morning, we awoke to a bright, cloudless sky. Our home has many windows that let in the bright sunshine on clear days, so on days like this we frequently don’t even have to turn on interior lights. The sunshine streaming in through the windows might not be as bright and strong as our electric lights, but it’s sufficient.

This afternoon, clouds are moving in ahead of anticipated weekend storms. As the clouds build, we alternate between bright sunshine and darkening shade. In some rooms, we’re turning on lights to counteract the game of peekaboo the sun seems to be playing.

When a storm system actually arrives, though, I expect a very different story. The front will solidly entrench itself, and heavy storm clouds will block the sun. In our home, we’ll have to use the lights that do not receive much use during a sunny stretch.

For so long, Christians in the United States have lived much as we do in our home. We’ve been content with the light of the cloudless or partly cloudy skies of morality, rarely seeing the need to turn on our lights of Christ-likeness. Why? Because we mistakenly equate Christianity and morality or being good Americans, thinking that light is enough.

Clouds of trouble do cover the sun briefly, and we turn on our lights for a while, taking a stand for godliness. But, because the storm has not yet arrived in all of its ferocity, we inevitably turn off our lights of godliness when the sun of morality emerges from the clouds again.

Recently, a political decision was made that has once again blocked the light of morality. While many Christians are in full-fledged panic mode over this decision, the reality is that this is just another bout of cloudiness – maybe even a thunder-shower – ahead of the real storm front.

But, what if we as Christians responded to this shower differently? What if we chose to turn on our lights of godliness once and for all? What if we decided to stop relying on the intermittent light of so-called morality and made a move to operate instead in the consistent and full light of godliness?

It’s a frightening thought for American Christians, to be honest. Such an action would mark us even more profoundly than morality ever did, perhaps even expediting our progress toward persecution.

But, it would also establish us firmly in a light that can never be dimmed.

The light of morality, grounded in a false belief that man is inherently good, was destined to be extinguished. Scripture reminds us that all goodness is bound up in Christ – man is sinful, not good. Without Christ, even the most moral of Americans will eventually bow to the lie of equality.

Do I like the decision that was made? No. Has it robbed reason to rejoice? Again, no. On the contrary, it has actually given me reason to rejoice. Why? Because now a few more Christians will choose to move from the fading light of morality into the never-failing light of godliness. They will grow closer to Christ through it. They will become stronger witnesses for Him because of it. And more of the lost and dying in this world will come to saving faith as a result of it.

And that, my friends, is why I rejoice, even in the face of those inevitable storm clouds.

This morning as I reread this old post, I’m struggling with the fact that the lost and dying in our country currently feel utterly hated by Christians. And it’s all because so many American Christians are claiming a political light instead of the Light of Christ.

I do not remember what political decision was handed down at the time I initially wrote this post. I could easily look it up based on the original publication date, but the fact of the decision would distract from the truth here: many who claim the Name of Christ are once again basking in a false light, and in the process so many who desperately need the love of Christ instead want nothing to do with Him. Because of us. Oh, how that breaks my heart! Utterly and completely!

Friends, I’m not saying we can’t have political preferences. But when will we realize that those preferences have to take a back seat to our allegiance to Christ? When will we start living in the true Light and share that Light and His love with those in desperate need of it? When will we realize that circumstances will never give us true light? That our preferences are a false light? Only Jesus is Light. ONLY JESUS. Let’s let Him and His love be our only light!

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Others

My Certainty

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Oh my word, how I needed this reminder this morning! Once again, I am thankful for the record of what God has taught me in the past so I can continue to move forward in growth. And finding certainty in Him is definitely an area where He keeps pushing me to dive deeper and grow more.

Uncertainty. Don’t you just love it. Never knowing what’s around the next bend? Not being able to plan and anticipate?

Okay, if that excited you and made you say, “Yes! I do love it!” then I will go ahead and admit something right now – I don’t understand you. I may still love you, and I will probably try to draw on your strength and excitement when I’m overwhelmed by uncertainty. But I just cannot understand you.

No, I do not always have to have all of the answers, nor do I insist on a crystal clear path at all times. Admittedly, surprises are fun, and the unexpected keeps life interesting and exciting. But that’s not the same as uncertainty.

Uncertainty is knowing that there is something around the corner – and possibly even knowing what it is – but not really being able to predict how it will impact life. If I know that something uncertain is ahead of me, I want to at least have the chance to do something productive to prepare for the uncertainty.

It’s like knowing that tornado season is coming around. I’m an Arkansan, which means tornado season is a given. I do not know when storms will come, but I know they will. And although I cannot guarantee my family’s safety during a tornado, I can do practical, productive things to prepare. I can make sure that we all know where to go to take cover quickly and smoothly. I can make sure necessities are easy to grab. I can prepare.

The problem comes when I see uncertainty on the horizon and cannot do a thing about it. I can’t prepare. I can’t plan. I can only wait. Wait in the uncertainty.

That’s exactly where the Lord puts me from time to time. Why? Because I’m finding my certainty in activity. In preparation. In doing something. What does He want instead?

He wants to be my certainty.

Oswald Chambers says it quite well in My Utmost from His Highest.

Certainty is the mark of a common-sense life; gracious uncertainty is the mark of the spiritual life. To be certain of God means that we are uncertain in all our ways…

Ouch. I tried to argue with that rationale this week. I hoped that I could look at 1 John 3:2, the focal verse for the devotional, and determine that Chambers was out of context with his deductions. But no, he wasn’t. And I was stuck.

I had been living a common-sense life. The Lord was – and is – calling me to a life filled with Him. A life in which my only certainty is Himself. Not circumstances. Not preparation. Not clear answers or firm direction.

Just Himself.

Where is your certainty today? If it is anywhere but in Christ Himself, He will push you into circumstances that challenge your common-sense life. And it hurts. But it’s worth it.

Will you join me in “gracious uncertainty”? Together, let’s make our Lord and Savior our only certainty.