Trying Softer

My younger son’s birthday is right around the corner. Every year as the thermometers rise and we turn the page to August, I think of the summer I was pregnant with him. We had some extreme heat that year and when I was almost full-term, there were days I felt I was being crowded out of my own body. The heat and physical discomfort made me determined to go into labor, so I started taking brisk walks in hopes of kicking my body into gear. I’ll never forget leaving the house one evening while my husband stayed back to put our two-year-old to bed. Sitting beside our pajama-clad son as they waved goodbye at the window, my husband called out “Remember, you’re not going to walk that baby out! He’ll come when he’s ready.” I was determined to prove him wrong, but labor ended up starting days later at a time and place that was not what I would have chosen.

Trying hard makes us feel powerful—like we can force a specific outcome and make circumstances unfold in the timing want. Unfortunately, though, it often causes us to think our effort is the most important factor.

In both parenting and ministry, I’ve learned that trying softer leaves more room for God to work and enables relationships to stay healthier. Taking this posture looks more passive but actually diverts our energy towards prayer and reliance on the Holy Spirit. It invites God to work in His timing and according to His plans. Trying softer means trusting Him to produce the fruit of patience, gentleness, and self-control when we’re tempted to take matters into our own hands and act with impatience, harshness, and impulsivity (see Galatians 5:22). Let’s explore a couple of real life examples to see how this looks

One of the most humbling places I’ve learned about trying softer has been in my role as a mom. My husband and I had always assumed our kids would go to college. As a former high school teacher, I looked forward to helping my boys chart a path that would open opportunities for higher education. However, at the start of his sophomore year, one of my sons began balking at my suggestions. He wanted nothing to do with building a resumé of experiences to showcase on college applications. Positioning himself to earn academic and extracurricular honors wasn’t compelling to him. No matter how I much I reasoned with him, he refused to listen.

Underlying tension simmered between us for months until it boiled over one day when I was peppering him with yet another helpful, albeit unsolicited, suggestion. In exasperation, my son cut me off mid-sentence and snapped: “College is stupid and a waste of money.” Offended and frustrated, I held back from spewing out an emotional reaction. In that moment, I realized trying harder to persuade him would have divided us even further.

Later, after much prayer and discussion, my husband and I agreed to let our son chart his path forward; all talk of college ceased in our household. We held our tongues but continued to pray that God would lead him to discover his passions and pursue the path that was best for him. Although it was difficult, we let go of the notion that college was his only option and waited to see how his plans would unfold.

Two years later, as our son prepared to start his senior year, I summoned the courage to ask about his post-high school plans. To my surprise, he told me he was interested in college and asked if I would help him with the application process. He later admitted to me that the pressure I had put on him to build his resumé felt inauthentic—like I was trying to make him “show well” to impress others instead of letting his genuine interests reveal who he was. He felt like a commodity to which I was trying to add value. It was sobering and convicting to hear his perspective. That fall he applied to four schools, received acceptances to all of them, and ended up choosing a small Christian college I never would have considered for him. 

This past May, my son graduated from that school after four incredible years. He thrived and grew there intellectually, spiritually, and relationally. Never once did I see a grade he received, but we often talked about what he was learning there. He gained valuable insights studying abroad in far flung places like Egypt, Israel, and India. At graduation he wore a cord around his neck signifying he’d completed his degree cum laude. He hadn’t even bothered to tell my husband and me. By easing off, we’d let him navigate decisions, make mistakes, and take ownership of his education. Better still, the change in our approach improved our relationship in ways we hadn’t anticipated.

The wisdom I’ve gleaned about trying softer has also benefitted me in ministry. I love serving and leading, but sometimes my enthusiasm creates a false sense of urgency. My desire to implement a vision and move plans forward can be on a timetable that’s a bit too aggressive. Trying harder to push my agenda or timeline often leads to hasty decisions, hard feelings, and frustrating interactions. 

After several missteps, I’ve learned the value of trying softer by pausing to pray and to give others time to do the same. Planning, serving, and leading in ministry without seeking God first is the opposite of abiding with Jesus. We can do nothing of spiritual significance on our own wisdom and strength. That’s what Jesus means when He says, “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:5, NIV)

Just like with my son, patience, gentleness and self-control have helped me to try softer and have given the Lord room to work. Instead of pressuring people to make a decision, say yes to serving, or provide information I need, I’ve learned to give them time to respond thoughtfully. Treating others gently frees them to say “yes” or “no” with joy instead of guilt. Relying on the Holy Spirit’s guidance as I lead has created meaningful ministry bonds, lasting friendships, and zero drama.

Where are you tempted to try harder to force your agenda? How might trying softer increase your trust in God and improve your relationships? Consider praying and asking the Lord to show you one place in your life where you need more patience, gentleness, and self-control. Abide in Him and watch the fruit He bears through you.

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Ebenezer Stones

This spring marked the culmination of two significant seasons in my life: my youngest child graduated from college and I completed my fourth and final year serving as Women’s Ministries Director at my church. It’s been a poignant time as I’ve looked back at God’s faithfulness over the past four years. New and exciting ministry endeavors await, but before I dive into them, I’d like to pause and reflect on what I’ve learned. This summer’s posts will stand as stones of remembrance that mark where the Lord revealed Himself to me–my prayer is that they glorify Him and provide practical wisdom that will bless others and build His kingdom.

One of my favorite stories about stones of remembrance comes from the book of Joshua. After fleeing from slavery in Egypt and wandering in the desert for forty years, the Israelites enter the promised land at long last. Moses has passed away and they are now under the leadership of Joshua. In a miraculous set of events, the Lord holds back the rushing waters of the Jordan River at flood stage so that His people can move safely into the promised land. Once they cross, Joshua instructs them to set up a monument using twelve large stones from the riverbed.  “He said to the Israelites, ‘In the future when your descendants ask their parents, ‘What do these stones mean?’  tell them, ‘Israel crossed the Jordan on dry ground.’ For the Lord your God dried up the Jordan before you until you had crossed over. The Lord your God did to the Jordan what he had done to the Red Sea when he dried it up before us until we had crossed over.  He did this so that all the peoples of the earth might know that the hand of the Lord is powerful and so that you might always fear the Lord your God.” (Joshua 4:21-24, NIV)

Later in Scripture, symbols of remembrance are called Ebenezer stones. This label appears in the book of First Samuel when Israel’s army musters for an attack by the Philistines. As they prepare for battle, “They said to Samuel, ‘Do not stop crying out to the LORD our God for us, that he may rescue us from the hand of the Philistines.’ Then Samuel took a suckling lamb and sacrificed it as a whole burnt offering to the LORD. He cried out to the LORD on Israel’s behalf, and the LORD answered him. While Samuel was sacrificing the burnt offering, the Philistines drew near to engage Israel in battle. But that day the LORD thundered with loud thunder against the Philistines and threw them into such a panic that they were routed before the Israelites…Then Samuel took a stone and set it up between Mizpah and Shen. He named it Ebenezer, saying, ‘Thus far the LORD has helped us.’” (1 Samuel 7:8-10, 12, NIV)

So, Ebenezer stones commemorate the Lord’s help and faithfulness at specific points in time. Anything we lay eyes on can become an Ebenezer stone that symbolizes of our gratitude to God, whether it’s written or visual. These tangible reminders give us reassurance and hope for the future and prompt us to tell others about what the Lord has done in our lives.

Maybe this slower-paced season is a good time for you to do some reflecting too. Whether you’re flying to a faraway place, relaxing on a beach, lounging by a pool, or hiking a mountain trail, why not take some time to consider where the Lord has been at work in your life over the past year? What have you learned about Him and about yourself? How have you grown spiritually? What stones of remembrance will mark this season in your life as a testimony of God’s faithfulness? Who will you tell so that you can give glory to the Lord?

Want to learn more about Ebenezer stones and the hymn that made them famous? Click here.

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Carrying the Wilderness with You

Hiking was one of the main activities my family enjoyed when I was growing up. Sometimes my dad liked forging his own trails and taking us “overland.” He led the way with confidence, but the paths he chose rarely ended where we expected. I remember one afternoon when we trampled through knee-high, brittle grass trying to find our way back to the car. The sun dipped behind the hills as we trudged along, shivering in the waning light. As we reached the gravel parking lot complaining of aching feet and rumbling bellies, the first stars twinkled in the night sky. That’s probably the closest I’ve come to wandering in the wilderness in a literal sense.

Bible teacher Kristi McClelland explains: “We often think of a desert or wilderness as something we want to get out of. But the Jewish people view the desert as the place where the Lord often meets His people and speaks to them.”1 The Israelites experience this after leaving Egypt under Moses’ leadership. In the desert God shows them His character and demonstrates His care for them. The events they witness reveal the Lord’s power, presence, protection, and provision. A glance at the first four chapters of Exodus provides ample evidence:

-The Lord fights for them: “The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.” (Exodus 14:14)

-The Lord surrounds and protects them: “Then the angel of God, who had been traveling in front of Israel’s army, withdrew and went behind them. The pillar of cloud also moved from in front and stood behind them.” (Exodus 14:19)

-The Lord makes a way for them: “Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea, and all that night the Lord drove the sea back with a strong east wind and turned it into dry land. The waters were divided, and the Israelites went through the sea on dry ground, with a wall of water on their right and on their left.” (Exodus 14:21-22)

-The Lord provides food for them: “The Lord said to Moses, ‘I have heard the grumbling of the Israelites. Tell them, ‘At twilight you will eat meat, and in the morning you will be filled with bread. Then you will know that I am the Lord your God.’” (Exodus 16:11-12)

-The Lord provides water for them: “I will stand there before you by the rock at Horeb. Strike the rock, and water will come out of it for the people to drink.” (Exodus 17:6)

-The Lord protects them from enemies: “Moses built an altar and called it The Lord is my Banner. He said, ‘Because hands were lifted up against the throne of the Lord, the Lord will be at war against the Amalekites from generation to generation.’” (Exodus 17:15-16)

The Israelites’ time in the wilderness gives them tangible, personal, and specific evidence of the Lord’s hand at work in their lives. No wonder Kristi McClelland says the Middle Eastern perspective asks: “How do I carry the wilderness with me?” and “How do I remember the word the Lord taught me in the wilderness?”2

Although I’ve had limited experience wandering in the actual wilderness, there have been many times when I’ve metaphorically found myself in the desert—times when I’ve felt lost, discouraged, and unsure how to proceed. Although they were difficult seasons, I look back on them with gratefulness because of how I encountered the Lord. That’s why Kristi McClelland’s words resonate with me: “In the desert—the wilderness—God meets you and teaches you unique lessons that these dry and barren places frame in a way no other place would. In the Middle Eastern culture, the wilderness is seen almost as a sacred place, a place of intimacy where God speaks a ‘word’ to you.”3  

In the desert of my freshman year of college, the Lord met me in my loneliness and taught me to pour out my heart to Him and He became my closest confidante. During the wilderness of discouragement and depression in young motherhood, God beckoned me to seek Him for comfort and He became my shelter in storms. More recently, I wandered in the desert after an intense season in my life came to a close. Leading up to it, I’d been stretched to the limit for over two years managing care for my mom as her health declined. When she was diagnosed with terminal cancer, four months of daily visits and constant monitoring of her medical needs consumed me. After my mom passed away, my sister and I spent six months sorting the contents of our family home and preparing to put it on the market. 

Although I’d been grieving all along, the magnitude of what I’d experienced fully caught up with me only after my mom’s house sold. Instead of being relieved, I felt untethered, adrift and unsure how to move forward. As I turned to the Lord for wisdom, He coaxed me to rest and grieve. He helped me to see that my constant productivity had shielded me from fully experiencing my grief. He impressed upon me the wisdom of Psalm 46:10: “Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (NASB 1995) My time in the wilderness provided much-needed margin to process, pray, and find comfort in the Lord’s presence. Eventually it also allowed me space to hear from Him and discern what He was calling me to next.

Desert seasons feel disorienting and uncomfortable; we’re not sure which path to take or what our destination will be. We may not enjoy them, but they are incredible opportunities to grow in trusting the Lord. So, instead of asking “Why?” or “How long?” we’d be wise to invite God to teach us and reveal Himself to us. Seeking the Lord in the wilderness instead of rushing through it enables us to grow deeper in faith and equips us with tools we can use and share with others. I’ve seen the God’s power and felt His strength during wilderness seasons in ways I never would have experienced in times of ease and comfort. 

“The Lord drew Israel into the desert and spoke to her there. The place that seemed to only represent barrenness became one of restoration and redemption, of covenant pledge, of love everlasting…The Lord often speaks to His people in a special way in wilderness seasons.”4  Will you let Him do the same for you? 

Click here and be encouraged by Jeremy Camp’s song “Wilderness”

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  • 1. Kristi McClelland, Jesus & Women: In the First Century and Now, Lifeway Press, 2019, 22.
  • 2. ibid, p. 23
  • 3. ibid, p. 22
  • 4. ibid, p. 26

Stop the Frenzy 

Reading aloud to my sons was one of my favorite activities when they were little. It was a sweet way for us to slow down and enjoy time together with undivided attention. One of my boys’ favorite books was Jennifer and Josephine by Bill Peet. Completing a portion of Priscilla Shirer’s Elijah Bible study entitled “Stop the Frenzy” reminded me of it recently.

The opening scene depicts a junkyard with a rusted-out car named Jennifer. A stray cat named Josephine spends her days lounging in Jennifer’s backseat. Then, one day, the sleeping cat unwittingly becomes a stowaway when a traveling salesman buys Jennifer.

After riding in the backseat for a few miles, Josephine nicknames the salesman “Mr. Frenzy,” highlighting his constant rush to get from one place to the next. She describes him as a pushy, rude bully who drives Jennifer quickly and carelessly over winding country roads. Mr. Frenzy takes one risk after another, not heeding other drivers or the property that he destroys along the way.1

Mr. Frenzy’s frantic demeanor seems to echo Priscilla Shirer’s comments about the prophets of Baal in her Elijah Bible study: “A frenzied life is not a faith-filled life. Whether it’s God’s people not staying firmly tied to Him, or godless people tying their hopes to godless pursuits, it invariably leads to an empty, hollow, unsatisfying conclusion, even after all the time and energy, after all that work and effort.”2

There are times when I could be nicknamed “Mrs. Frenzy.” As I cram more into my schedule, I’m less sensitive to those around me. Leaving no margin in my time causes me to be thoughtless, impatient, and irritable. Anything that stands in the way of accomplishing my agenda becomes an annoying obstacle. (And being fueled by caffeine only exacerbates the situation.) In my frenzied state, I’m not open to being interrupted by people who need my help or attention. And most important of all, my frantic pace causes me to feel impatient even when I’m trying to spend time with God.

Have you ever felt that way? For me, it’s a warning sign that I need to slow down and seek the Lord first before jumping into a frenzied day. As I pump the brakes and refocus on Him, He puts everything back into the right perspective. I accomplish exactly what I need to do and discover that some tasks that felt urgent really weren’t. I guess that’s a picture of Jesus’ words:

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30, NIV)   I love how the Message version paraphrases the last part: “Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”3

The “yoke” Jesus mentions is a tool used for plowing a field. It is a curved piece of wood with two slots fitted over a pair of oxen. Imagine how unbalanced it would be to have one animal trying to carry a yoke meant for two. Similarly, when we try to carry our burdens on our own, we feel weary and beaten down. The added weight often causes us to feel frenzied and overwhelmed. However, when we yoke ourselves to Jesus, He gives us the strength we need because we are walking in step with Him. There is no need to be frantic when the Maker of the earth and stars walks beside us and shares the load.

One of my favorite verses sums it up: “Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (Psalm 46:10, NIV) Another translation says: “Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.” (NASB- italics added for emphasis) Our striving is a vain attempt to be in control of our lives that depletes and exhausts us. When we stop our frantic activity to be still, God reminds us He is Lord and we are not. Quieting our souls prompts us to return God to His proper place in our lives.

You can’t put gas in a car while it’s running. Similarly, it’s difficult to let the Holy Spirit fill you when you’re constantly on the go. Stopping to let Him rejuvenate and refresh you gives you a new perspective and enables you to be a restful presence for others.

Priscilla Shirer encourages us: “You have not been called to an exhausting spiritual life—wavering, weaving, overworking, selfishly wanting. You are His beloved [child]. Heir to a great inheritance. You can live in settled confidence. You can adjust from folly to faith. You can apply the hard-learned lessons of the process and rest in His sure provision.”4

Writing this was a convicting reminder for me. If you feel the same, then consider praying something like this: Lord, I confess that I can be like those frenzied idol worshipers Elijah mocked on Mt. Carmel. I want to repent of the areas where I’ve stopped trusting You and have traded faith for doubt, panic, and fear. Please empower me with your Spirit so that I can live in a way that’s clearly distinct from those who don’t know You. Remind me of the favor and approval I can claim because of my relationship with You through Jesus. Teach me to rest and live in step with the rhythm of your grace. In Jesus name, amen.

Slow down and let Johnny Diaz’s song “Breathe” help you gain perspective on your frenzied life. Click here to listen.

  1. Bill Peet, Jennifer and Josephine, Houghton Mifflin, 1967.
  2. Priscilla Shirer, Elijah, Lifeway Press, 2020, 145.
  3. Eugene H. Peterson, The Message, Copyright © 1993, 2002, 2018.
  4. Priscilla Shirer, Elijah, Lifeway Press, 2020, 147.

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In Between Times

I’ve always loved flowers that grow from bulbs: daffodils and tulips are my favorites. Plunging the small brown bulbs into the earth in the fall is like tucking away a gift that will delight me when shoots push through the soil the following spring. 

Once I’ve planted bulbs, there’s a process taking place underground that is hidden and quiet, but crucial for the flowers to bloom. Bulbs use the dark, cold months of winter to sprout roots at the base to anchor the plant in the soil. Then they lie ‘dormant,’ awaiting the right amount of sunlight and moisture to bring those tiny green shoots through the dirt. The ugly brown bulbs will eventually bloom into beautiful flowers in vivid colors.

The process of planting bulbs and waiting for them to bloom gives a perfect picture of those “in between times” when one season ends, and another hasn’t quite begun. Waiting isn’t my favorite activity and resting is hard for me. But I’ve learned that just as bulbs require the cold and quiet months of winter before sprouting, those “in between times” are vital for our mental, spiritual, and emotional lives. 

Elijah’s story gives us a perfect example of how God uses “in between times” in our lives to root us more deeply in Him before we can sprout and grow. After empowering Elijah to confront King Ahab, the Lord tells him: “Go away from here and turn eastward, and hide yourself by the brook Cherith, which is east of the Jordan.” (1 Kings 17:3) With that simple command, God shifts Elijah from speaking with authority in the the king’s chambers to living in obscurity, isolated in the wilderness by a brook named “Cherith.” The brook’s name means “to cut off” or to “to cut down.” “[Elijah] was cut off from any visible means of support, but he was also being cut down to size, learning the invaluable lesson of how to depend on God alone.”2 During this season of waiting, the Lord prepares Elijah for future assignments that will be even more challenging.

Priscilla Shirer provides insight that helps us to apply Elijah’s story on a personal level: “’Cherith’—a season of life that I perceived at the time to be undesirable, obscure, isolating, unproductive and relatively mundane…It’s sometimes seemed to me like a waste of  weeks, months, and years, away from the work He’s been calling me to do—work that seems a lot more important to me than the little I appeared to be accomplishing while at Cherith. But just as Elijah apparently needed to learn, I’m not as necessary to the greater work of God, as much as the greater work of God is necessary to me.”3

Can you recall Cherith seasons in your own life? Are you in one now? As I’ve studied week 2 in Priscilla Shirer’s Elijah, God has reminded me of several “in between times” in my past that I didn’t welcome or enjoy (at first). In retrospect, I can see how each one deepened my connection to Him and prepared me for something yet to come. Cherith seasons have taught me to slow down, be patient, and trust God in the waiting. 

I’ve written before about my freshman year in college, when I was lonely and aching for deep friendships. That season of longing drew me into a more intimate relationship with God than I’d ever had before. Now I see that the Lord was teaching me to want Him more than I wanted anything else from Him. Times alone in prayer and Scripture reading built a solid connection between us. God filled my need for security and belonging when I was tempted to look for it in unhealthy places with ungodly people. Seeking Him first gave me the freedom to enjoy friendships without expecting anyone to fill all my longings and meet all my needs.

Later in life, God led me into another Cherith season after the birth of my first child. My son was born in May, which was always one of my busiest seasons at work. His birth pivoted me from overseeing a bustling schedule of student activities at the high school where I taught to sitting in a quiet house nursing a newborn. As much as I loved my son and relished the gift of maternity leave, I felt restless and insignificant. My schedule had been overwhelmingly full for so long that I didn’t know what to do with the time between feeding my baby and changing his diapers. I wrestled with God about staying home with my son or going back to work. My uncertainty led me to begin praying consistently for wisdom, direction, and peace. The Lord also used that quiet season to ignite a hunger in me to study His Word. Choosing to take a leave of absence from my teaching job opened the opportunity to try an inductive Bible study class. Soon, the quiet hours in my house while my son napped became sacred time to meet the Lord in prayer and discover truth in the pages of Scripture. 

Those two “in between times” laid a foundation that I’m still building on today. Cultivating a personal, intimate relationship with the Lord in college and then prioritizing studying His Word in my first years of motherhood continue to sustain me today. Like a bulb sprouting roots underground before pushing upward to the surface, God used those times, and many others since then, to deepen my spiritual roots so that I could blossom and give Him glory.

If you’re in a Cherith season now, let the Lord sustain you as He did for Elijah at the brook. Rather than lamenting the waiting or questioning His purposes, trust that He’s at work in ways you can’t see. Soak up the nutrients of His Word. Reach towards Him in prayer and trust the He’s preparing you for the next step on your journey with Him. “Remember this: Waiting time doesn’t have to be wasted time. Even though you feel like God’s clock is moving at a glacial pace, God knows exactly where you are right now, and He knows exactly what He is doing. Elijah went through a Cherith experience, but during that time of waiting Elijah learned vital skills every one of us has to learn if we are going to be used by God in an extraordinary way.”2

While you wait, take heart and let David’s words in Psalm 27 become your own:“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living. Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” (Psalm 27:13-14, NIV)

Need some encouragement while you wait? Click here and listen to Elevation Worship’s “Do It Again.”

  1. All My Favourite Flower Names: “Spring Bulbs and Other Storage Organs”
  2. Dr. Robert Jeffress, “Two Purposes for Elijah’s Waiting”
  3. Priscilla Shirer, Elijah, Lifeway Press, 2020, 51-52.

Photos courtesy of Pixabay.com.

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The Blessing of the Broken Road

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I tossed the essay on my son’s bed and congratulated him. Across the top of the page, his teacher had written “This is AMAZING!” in bold blue print. He’d been assigned to write about an event that sparked a period of personal growth for him. His descriptive language impressed me, but it was the recognition of how a difficult season in his life had changed him for the better that made me weepy. What a joy it was to see him choosing to learn and grow through hardships instead of letting them make him bitter and cynical.

It’s hard work to re-frame the way we view difficult times. We’re quick to label them as bad and to rail against the unfairness of having to endure them. Most of us view setbacks as interruptions from the way life is “supposed” to unfold, betraying a sense of entitlement we may not realize we have. But when we pause to examine hard circumstances further, there is much we can learn. The opportunities for personal and spiritual growth are only limited by our willingness to shift our perspectives. When we begin to view hard circumstances through a biblical lens, we start seeing that what looks bad on the surface is brimming with good.

Perhaps one of the best examples of this comes from the life of Joseph recorded in Genesis. After being sold by his jealous brothers to slave traders, he finds himself in a series of unfortunate circumstances. Despite being a person of honor and integrity, he’s falsely accused of rape, thrown in prison, and left there for two years. Eventually his character and faithfulness to God lead to a stunning reversal. After interpreting a prophetic dream for Pharaoh, he’s made second in command of Egypt. In this position, he’s tasked with ensuring the crops produced during seven years of plenty are stored to prepare for seven subsequent years of famine, in keeping with Pharaoh’s dream.

Meanwhile, Joseph’s family in Canaan experiences the ravages of the famine and heads to Egypt to buy food. His ten older brothers appear before him to buy grain and, “Although Joseph recognized his brothers, they did not recognize him.” (Genesis 42:8, NIV)

After several interactions with them over time, Joseph can’t restrain himself any longer and proclaims, “I am your brother Joseph, the one you sold into Egypt! And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you. For two years now there has been famine in the land, and for the next five years there will be no plowing and reaping. But God sent me ahead of you to preserve for you a remnant on earth and to save your lives by a great deliverance.’” (Genesis 45:4b-7, NIV)

Rather than spewing anger at them for selling him into slavery and inflicting years of misery upon him, he reassures them. Joseph sees the big picture and realizes that God, in His sovereignty, used him to save his family and many others from starving to death during the famine. Later, he reiterates this to his brothers, “You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.” (Genesis 50:20, NIV)

Reading that leads me to think of someone else who endured hardship for the good of many: Jesus. Just as Joseph tumbled downward from his privileged position as Jacob’s favorite son to a lowly slave, Jesus left the glory of heaven to become a lowly man: “[Jesus] made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.” (Philippians 2:7, NIV)

Joseph endured the humiliation of being falsely accused and punished for a crime he didn’t commit.  In the same way, Jesus was falsely accused and received punishment for the sins of all humankind: “he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death—even death on a cross!” (Philippians 2:8, NIV)

Scripture explains the purpose behind this: “For what the law was powerless to do because it was weakened by the flesh, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh to be a sin offering. And so he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fully met in us, who do not live according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.” (Romans 8:3-4, NIV)

Joseph traveled a broken road, but he saw how his painful circumstances led to ultimate good—the saving of many lives. Like him, Jesus’ suffering led to an even greater good–the saving of humankind. “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him.” (John 3:16-17, NIV)

God allowed His son to walk a painful path for the sake of ultimate good, triumphing over evil, death, and sin. Could it be possible that the lesser hardships we endure can also be used for His glory and our good? 

Beloved author and theologian C.S. Lewis describes pain as “God’s megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” Are you willing to listen? How about refocusing your perspective on hardships using the lens of God’s goodness? This can move you past the pain and discomfort to discover the greater significance, as Joseph did.

Keep his story in mind and consider how your hurts and hardships might be pointing you toward the Lord as you listen to “Bless the Broken Road” by Selah.

To learn about other parallels between Joseph and Jesus, click here.

Accepting the Assignment of Refinement

Vibrating beneath my hands, the power sander spewed a cloud of fine dust as I ran it over the wood. The dresser had an ugly, opaque finish and I was curious to see the quality of the wood hidden beneath it. To my delight, the sanding revealed pure, unblemished maple with a beautiful grain that far exceeded my expectations.

I was reminded of that recently as I turned the page of my Bible study book and read author Nicki Koziarz’ first habit of a woman who doesn’t quit: “She Accepts the Assignment of Refinement.” Refinement is defined as the process of removing impurities or unwanted elements from a substance; the improvement or clarification of something by the making of small changes. I believe this definition doesn’t just describe the process for inanimate objects, it also explains the way we can be refined spiritually.

This makes me think of one of the first Bible passages that ever jumped off the page at me. It was during my freshman year in college, which was a season of tremendous loneliness for me. I had surrendered my life to Jesus, and really wanted to honor Him in the choices I made, but was finding it challenging in my secular surroundings. One morning, I read this passage and found renewed strength to persevere:

“In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed.” (1 Peter 1:6-7, NIV)

I took heart because the passage assured me the trials and challenges I was facing were refining my faith and proving it was genuine in the same way gold is purified by being refined by fire.

Like using a sander on wood, trials refine our faith. They remove the ugly layers of protection we often put on ourselves over time. Pride. Self-sufficiency. Impatience. Selfishness. Faith that was obscured by those layers is revealed and clarified when trials draw it to the forefront of our lives. Persevering by keeping our eyes on Jesus enables us grow deeper in our relationship with Him. This opens a conduit for us to experience His love and comfort in ways we never would in times of ease and comfort

Oftentimes when we study a passage like this one, we envision major “life event” sort of trials. A cancer diagnosis. The death of a family member.  The loss of a job. An ugly divorce. A traumatic event that derails plans and dreams.

While those life-altering trials often refine our faith, smaller difficulties can produce the same results, if we let them. A challenging person or situation becomes spiritual sandpaper in the hands of God. Any trial we face is ripe to become an assignment of refinement, if we’re open to it.

The Bible makes many references to the Lord as a refiner. Psalm 66:10 states it clearly. “For you, God, tested us; you refined us like silver.” God uses people and situations to magnify our impurities so that we can be cleansed of them. When we submit to Him, this process changes our perspectives and makes us look more like Jesus in our actions and attitudes

In the book of Zechariah God speaks again about refinement. I will refine them like silver and test them like gold. They will call on my name and I will answer them; I will say, ‘They are my people,’ and they will say, ‘The Lord is our God.’” (Zechariah 13:9b)

A few years ago, my family experienced a relentless chain of hard circumstances that led us to deeper intimacy with Jesus and profound spiritual growth. Ironically, at the center of many uncontrollable difficulties was a situation that we’d brought on ourselves: a home remodel.

With every annoyance we experienced, from doing laundry on our back patio to living without a kitchen for seven months, to working with an unreliable contractor, we learned we had a choice. We could wallow in self-pity and bitterness or we could let God refine us through the process. 

We started praying a one line question each time we faced a setback: “God, what are you trying to teach us right now?” Then, we braced ourselves for the answer. God revealed many ugly impurities in us that needed to be surrendered to Him throughout our remodel. And, as painful as it was, we chose to let Him do His refining work in us. He uncovered a lack of patience and a craving for control. He taught us to wait and watch for His answers in His timing. Submitting to that process transformed us in ways we never would have expected.

The struggles and challenges we face, both large and small, are an amazing opportunity to uncover the faith planted deep within us. As I learned with refinishing my dresser, true beauty shows only after the refining process removes the ugly outer layers. “When we start to see the hard, messy places as assignments of refinement, something shifts in our souls…It’s about letting the hard things make us strong.”*

Rather than lamenting the difficult things we must endure, we can rejoice knowing that they are revealing a genuine and lasting faith that is more valuable than anything this world could offer.

Are you in a season of waiting and wondering how in the world God could use your hard situation for good? Let the lyrics of “Take Courage” by Bethel Music bring you hope today.

*Nicki Koziarz, A Woman Who Doesn’t Quit by , Lifeway 2016, page 55.

Adapted from my post entitled “Genuine Faith: 1 Peter 1:1-12″ originally posted 2-21-17