Category: Thoughts

lemme give you some advice

I know, you didn’t ask for it – but it’s comin’ atcha anyway. You don’t have to take my advice, but I don’t know why you wouldn’t.

Don’t ever (no matter how confident you feel or how cool you look), EVER point your rollerblades down the hill in the middle of the Iowa State campus by the MU. Seriously – don’t do it. You might end up with matching 5 inch abrasions on either thigh, a twisted knee, a banged up elbow, and a severely bruised pride. Yes, that happened.

Apparently, I won’t hit my humility quotient this month for quitting my job and moving across the country without a job or an apartment. Everybody needs a good spill every once in a while, even if just to remember that walking a normal straight line without a limp is a precious thing that should be appreciated. The wipeout was unfortunately epic and witnessed by several innocent bystanders. Don’t worry – I jumped up quick and bladed off so they didn’t feel awkward about leaving a struggling, crashed blader spread out on the pavement.

But, let’s get serious (because all my advice isn’t rollerblade-related).

I had dinner with my Uncle Tom tonight because I’m crashing at his house again – this time for just a couple weeks. It was home for a year, so living here again feels like putting on a favorite pair of jeans. Right now my favorite pair of jeans is literally soaking under an ice pack, so I’ve got time to process some of the wheels spinning circles in my mind.

We talked about belief tonight over drinks and guacamole and pizza and lettuce wraps – about what kind of belief pushes out fear and worry and anxiety and shame. Because we’re all believing something, Tom said, but we’re not all believing the right thing. And it’s true.

Only the right belief can displace all the ugly monsters wrestling for space in our hearts. Only the right belief is comfort when you realize all those catchy phrases your fifth grade teacher told you about “shooting for the stars” sound way easier inside the imagination station.

Only the right belief about who God is will give us the right belief about the power of our circumstances.

I’ve had my share of breakdowns. I am familiar with the questions that pound like downpours. I know the rhythm of a panicked heartbeat.

But there is hope in the middle and not just on the other end of all these wrestling wars for my peace. It’s never about getting over a phase or through a season or on top of the details. It’s never about any of that because it’s always about having the right belief about who God is in the middle of it all.

He is Protector.
He is Provider.
He is Comforter.
He is Healer.
He is Peace.
He is Joy.

And He is not these things only when my life makes sense – He never changes. If I believe He is who He says He is, then my belief makes room for joy where ugly monsters once wrestled for my peace. By His grace, I believe He is Protector enough, Provider enough, Comforter enough, Healer enough, Peace enough, and Joy enough.

He is SO ENOUGH that in this uncertain slice of August, the joy is bursting out my rollerblade seams and climbing into my borrowed bed.

He is that good. And He never changes.

I believe, I believe, I believe.

And my right belief about God is jettisoning my doubts as I pick up more trust in the One who overwhelms me with joy.

Posted on by Caroline 2

better love

My monthly reports are breathing down my neck, I’ve got suitcases and plastic bins stuffed to the gills around my feet, and I’m waiting with bated breath to hear back from my job interview in Brooklyn.

Sounds like madness, but it feels like the right kind.

I know as little as I did yesterday about when I’m moving to NYC, what I’ll be doing, where I’ll be living, and how I’ll be making ends meet.

And it’s okay. I am trusting in the Lord’s provision and leaning on His grace. There is no one more worthy to trust with my future than the One who knows it already. I can’t find a better love than His.

Fear is always lurking in dark corners, but joy is like sunshine starving it out.

I have a song to sing and this one by Green River Ordinance is beating like a drum in my soul today.

Posted on by Caroline 2

grounded in freefall

Do you ever get a sense that you are just floating – waiting for your feet to find land so that you can report a location? Everything feels in motion because you are in motion and it’s hard to orientate yourself when you are in a freefall.

Those typical questions people ask depend a bit on roots, like “Where are you from?” and “What do you do?” My answers, in this freefall, are fluid and sweeping and noncommittal and perhaps a little evasive. I don’t like to let people watch me grasp for ground – it’s uncomfortable to flail about when you are used to being surefooted.

I don’t know how to explain the strange and confident peace that covers my soul in all this uncertain discomfort. I sound like a broken record, but it’s always about believing. Believing the Lord will make good on His promise to provide, protect, and preserve. When we believe God is a faithful promise keeper, the freefall feels different.

When life gives you freefall, become like an astronaut.

Does that sound cheesy? Probably. But, I imagine astronauts do not spend all their gravity-less time wondering if they will ever touch ground again or if there is ground at all all the thousands of miles beneath them.

I imagine they know there is and I imagine they stretch to enjoy the float. I know that astronauts are not in freefall – that they don’t have to fear the impact on the other side of their floating. And my freefall in these uncertain moments is the same: I am secure in God’s promises, secure in the solid rock of His word, secure in the refuge of His wings.

He is my ground when there is none underneath me.

Christ is my identity even as I’m floating in freefall and flailing. I am His and He is mine. He is with me in my present and He is my secure future. I am reading through Galatians and this morning I read,

for in Christ Jesus you are all sons of God, through faith. For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And if you are Christ’s, then you are Abraham’s offspring, heirs according to promise. (Galatians 3:26-29, ESV)

My identity can’t change mid-flight. I am a son of God – my inheritance is secured in Christ in the middle of all the insecurities I might feel. I have already been named an heir, through faith.

This is my solid ground.

The beautiful thing about putting on Christ like clothes is that He’s with you in the freefall, closer than any other thing. He is my inheritance and secure future, but He is not distant and silent. He is breathing truth to my soul and filling my cup to overflowing. He is holding me together.

When I believe what He has promised, I do not doubt the ground. I do not doubt my future or my inheritance. My adoption means comfort more closely and hope more securely than any other thing.

God has called me His in this freefall. My flailing may not make sense and my floating might make people talk, but my heart is grounded in God’s promises.

 

 

Posted on by Caroline 1

dream big / want less

There is no better place than New York City to see the biggest and brightest (literally Times Square can blind you) dreams come true. All the struggling artists and actresses are dreaming big to get more – working multiple jobs to make reality out of the stage in their dreams.

Big > BIGger > BIGGEST

The biggest dreams are always best, so they say. I won’t say it’s a bad idea – the big dreaming. I love dreams – love to share mine and love to hear others’. I love dreaming and people who do it well.

What I don’t love is that dreams seem to be synonymous with MORE. Why do our dreams have to point us in the direction of wealth and status and fame?

I sat next to a most charming man on the plane to Chicago. He manages money for a wealthy family in Dubai and has for the past six years. From the sound of it, his boss’s pockets are deep. My friend Tom’s job is to invest capital so there is more capital to invest. He deals almost exclusively with BIG, if you know what I mean, and apparently he is really good at it.

Last week Tom was at a conference where 850 of the best and brightest entrepreneurs (his sister also happens to be a genius who owns several non-profit start up companies in NYC) met to share ideas, strategies, and success stories. These are the type of people who sell their companies over the weekend for $150 million without blinking (that really happened to the guy sitting next to Tom).

Do you know what the most popular session was at this conference? Relationships.

Yep, a psychologist got up on stage and started talking about life outside of 100 hour work weeks and efficient business practices and emerging markets. This is the message that captivated the brilliant crowd and filled their lunch, coffee, and dinner conversations. Relationships. Apparently, people with extremely successful entrepreneurial lives struggle most with their relationships.

I tell you this because my friend Tom asked me what I was going to do in New York, like for work. I said something about my passion for people and communities and specifically the impact neighborhoods have on some of the worst societal problems. Since his sister has her hand in several non-profit companies and a background in education, we talked about the “education space” and how it expands beyond the classroom. We talked about the trouble with “the system” and how it is unfortunately misused and manipulated and how that prevents effectiveness in improving communities and schools. We talked about how there needs to be better accountability.

And then he said to me, “Have you ever thought of just starting something on your own?” I blinked and then said, “Well, yes, actually. I have… but a person needs capital for that or brilliant connections. Right now, I have neither.”

He suggested I could form a platform that would provide the service of accountability to government and charity programs. I chuckled a little bit because his brilliance has trained him to always expand to the biggest dreams for the biggest returns. I suppose that is probably how it works in managing capital – you do it best when you do it big because it’s always about making more.

But, you know what I said to him?

“It’s about relationships.”

Just like he heard at that conference in Salt Lake City and just like those millionaires couldn’t stop talking about. No matter how many brilliant, efficient systems develop to respond to the real problems of neighborhoods, the most important component of any program is the relationships that form as it is carried out.

I don’t buy the Big > BIGGER > BEST model when best is about adding more – more influence or status or wealth.

I believe the biggest dreams can also look like less.

I don’t know if my new friend Tom would agree, but it was an interesting conversation.

Posted on by Caroline 0

less, but never nothing

It is never a question of whether “processing” happens when I spend time with Alejandra, but how much of our time will be spent opening Scripture and asking questions of the Lord. This past weekend was no exception.

One of the zillions of processing thoughts floating around in our brains and souls and conversations was from this passage in 1 Thessalonians.

Finally then, brethren, we request and exhort you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us instruction as to how you ought to walk and please God (just as you actually do walk), that you excel still more. 2 For you know what commandments we gave you by the authority of the Lord Jesus. 3 For this is the will of God, your sanctification; that is, that you abstain from sexual immorality; 4 that each of you know how to possess his own vessel in sanctification and honor, 5 not in lustful passion, like the Gentiles who do not know God; 6 and that no man transgress and defraud his brother in the matter because the Lord is the avenger in all these things, just as we also told you before and solemnly warned you. 7 For God has not called us for the purpose of impurity, but in sanctification. 8 So, he who rejects this is not rejecting man but the God who gives His Holy Spirit to you. 1 Thessalonians 4:1–8, ESV

Specifically, Paul’s admonition in verses 4 and 5, “that each of you know how to possess his own vessel in sanctification and honor, not in lustful passion, like the Gentiles who do not know God.” In this scenario, Paul equates the Gentiles with those who “do not know God.”

Gentiles = do not know God = do not know how to possess their bodies in sanctification and honor = live in lustful passion = reject God.

So, this progression begs the question, “What is the alternative?”

Knowing God.

Do believers, who do know God and are being sanctified, eventually get “cured” of lustful passions and impurities? It might seem like our sanctification (sealed in our salvation) looks like the kind of progress that makes struggles like lust eventually obsolete in our lives.

Paul writes in verse 1, “Finally then, brethren, we request and exhort you in the Lord Jesus, that as you received from us instruction as to how you ought to walk and please God (just as you actually do walk), that you excel still more.”

We know from Scripture how we ought to walk (Micah 6:8), what pleases God (Hebrews 6), and that our walk looks like actual steps (Galatians 5) and not just philosophies or cultural expectations. We also know that God promises to be faithful in sanctifying us from one degree of glory to the next (2 Corinthians 3:18). As we obey (not because we obey), in His grace He sanctifies and allows us to excel still more.

But, here we reach that cumbersome impasse.

If we are knowing God in increasing measure and living a life that reflects that knowledge, will our sin eventually disappear? Will we eventually be completely free, by way of sanctification, of the sin that tangles and ties us down?

I wonder if that answer is yes and no.

Yes,
We must believe God when He says He is sanctifying us and that He will not stop until that work is completed. We must believe God when He says “excelling more” is possible. We must believe God when He says there is grace enough and strength enough to overcome whatever tools Satan wields against us. We must believe that His power is always greater, every time.

No,
We must know that our sin on this side of heaven will never be nothing. I don’t care if you are a pastor or a prince or a peddler – your sin will never be nothing on this side of heaven. No one will make weekly trips to church with nothing to confess.

But before we start taking a measuring stick to our spiritual success, let’s consider where our eyes ought to be focused – on the author and perfecter of our faith (Hebrews 12:2), on what is unseen (2 Corinthians 4:18), on the eternal weight of glory (2 Corinthians 4:17).

We do not believe God is faithful to sanctify us by fixing our eyes on our progress, but by fixing our eyes on the One who progresses us from one degree of glory to the next.

Should our sin become less as we are being sanctified? Yes, but we are not consumed by the amount of “less” sin because we are too busy being consumed with the amount of “more” life we have in Christ.

He said abundant and I believe Him for it.

Living in abundance feeds a hunger for more abundance – life gives breath to more life and our eyes are fixed on the Giver in the already, not yet part of this salvation story. Our sin can be less but never nothing on this side of heaven. Knowing God should mean less sin, but the measuring stick is always Christ. He accomplished (past tense) our sanctification, so none of our efforts can aim to accomplish anything. Our obedience is a testimony to His faithfulness, His provision, and His promise-keeping.

Just to be clear…

I’ll add this little caveat that might be helpful as we process the idea of sinning less and enjoying Christ more. If we sin at all, we are in constant and desperate need of salvation. So, since we sin at all (less or more makes no difference) on this side of heaven, there is no room for boasting and no room for pride. Our boast is in the Lord alone, whose grace is sufficient to cover our sin even as we are believing God as He completes the sanctifies work in us. Our sanctification hangs on grace and not on our efforts – it depends on what Christ accomplished through the cross and not what we can accomplish by keeping the law.

Read Piper’s thoughts in the sermon, ‘This is the Will of God for You…’ and then please share your own. The best part of processing is being challenged and sharpened!

Posted on by Caroline 0

don’t tell me to “grit my teeth”

I’m sure there are times when “grit your teeth” is an appropriate idiom for motivation or encouragement. Most of the times that come to mind are situations where small children refuse to eat broccoli or swim underwater or share a toy. Problem is, at that age, idioms don’t really make sense anyway.

What I do know is that “gritting my teeth” right now to muscle through my life-transplanting-across-the-country anxiety is not appropriate or motivational or encouraging.

My life is folded up in suitcases and boxes again and I feel like someone dumped all my emotional luggage out on the front lawn. It came on like waves today – doubts about my current job, doubts about my future job, doubts about doubts. This isn’t the normal level of anxiety I believe my way through. This anxiety hasn’t gone away for good when I believe against it, it just hides until I can be caught by surprise again.

Today, it hit me between the eyes and I couldn’t really put a good sentence together to explain it. I pushed against the temptation to say, “It’s just a phase, it’ll pass” because I know that it won’t. Worry and doubt and anxiety are not phases because believing is not meant to be a phase, either.

The hard work of believing happens while doubts and worries and anxieties hit us between the eyes with questions about worth and future and all the ways we are desperate to be acceptable before God.

God will do the fighting, I’ll do the believing.

I’ve never been more convinced of the power of present tense belief. The Gospel is ongoing salvation and I need to preach it to my soul in an ongoing sermon. When I get hit between my blues with questions about packing lists and budget lines and apartment hunts, my response must be to believe God for the salvation He has promised.

When He covenanted with Abram (Genesis 15), God was the only one who walked through the halved animals – symbolizing that He would keep His promise even if Abraham failed. He would keep His promise unto death… and He did. I received that same promise from the Lord – that He would be faithful to keep me even if it (and did) cost Him his life.

My salvation is sealed and so is my redemption from all the ugly anxiety I met today.

I believe the salvation He promised is the breath He’s breathing into me and the future unfolding before me. I believe the salvation He promised is my security as the millions of moments happen these next few weeks. And I believe the salvation He promised is my hope when all my life’s luggage gets dumped and scattered.

There’s no “grit my teeth” about it. I can’t muscle through it.

And I don’t have to – that’s what believing is all about. Any of my own attempts at survival is evidence of unbelief. I believe God has already promised to keep me, carry me, sustain me, fulfill me. I believe.

I love this encouraging word from John Piper in Future Grace where we read about Jesus Keeping His Sheep.

Posted on by Caroline 2

You who are greater

I heard a sermon a couple weeks back and this little bit of Scripture in 1 John 3 keeps coming on back to steady my heart.

Because my heart sometimes feels pretty powerful – like it has the full force of Jeremiah 17:9 and that’s a scary danger.

“The heart is deceitful above all things
and beyond cure.
Who can understand it?”

I surely do not. Even when we think we are making unselfish sense, our heart still deceives and traps and tricks and we can still get buried in a place that is “beyond cure.” There is a place where cure can’t reach and that’s where you’ll find our hearts. Ouch.

Sounds impossible to cure a deceitful heart, doesn’t it? So, I must believe God for impossible things. I must believe in this moment through to the next that He is a promise keeper, that He knows everything, and that He is greater than my heart.

Though my heart is deceitful and fickle and incurable and fret-filled, God is greater than my heart. When my heart runs circles around the narrow path where my feet tread with doubts and taunts, I must remember who made my heart.

He that formed my heart calls me “child” and is always faithful to be greater than my fears.

He is always greater, always. God knows everything – there’s nothing about the darkest part of our hearts that surprises Him – and He is still greater than those secrets. In 1 John 3, we read that our salvation means confidence, that even the most fickle and incurable heart issues we have must bend to the One who abides in us.

I am not afraid of my dangerous heart. I believe that God is greater.

Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.

By this we shall know that we are of the truth and reassure our heart before him; for whenever our heart condemns us, God is greater than our heart, and he knows everything. Beloved, if our heart does not condemn us, we have confidence before God; and whatever we ask we receive from him, because we keep his commandments and do what pleases him. And this is his commandment, that we believe in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he has commanded us. Whoever keeps his commandments abides in God, and God in him. And by this we know that he abides in us, by the Spirit whom he has given us. (1 John 3:18-24, ESV)

When I believe God to be greater than my heart, I trust that fear is replaced with obedience. I am not afraid of my dangerous heart because I believe God can overcome it and help me pursue holiness. I am not afraid because He has authored miracles that I can act out by living a life of love. I am not afraid because I know, in Christ, what it means to abide. Because of His grace, I am not afraid.

 

Posted on by Caroline 1

believing for rest

Christ is holding all things together and He is keeping my bones revived. It’s an active keeping that continually breathes salvation into my bones. And today, I am realizing that His keeping me revived is what allows me to rest.

I’m studying Galatians right now and my soul is sick with the tension of belief. For all the hundreds of ways I believe God is faithful and true and just, there are hundreds of other ways I doubt Him. For every little obstacle I believe Him able to overcome, there is another obstacle I doubt He can conquer.

“I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief.” Mark 9:24

I believe in the historical event of the crucifixion and in the power of the resurrection and that Christ completed the work of my salvation. I believe. But the gospel is also about believing now – belief is happening as God breathes breath into my bones and as God breathes rest into my soul.

“The Spirits works as Christians don’t rely on their own works, but rather consciously and continuously rest in Christ alone for their acceptability and completeness.” Tim Keller in Galatians for You

When Christ said, “It is finished,” he accomplished a salvation that makes me complete and acceptable – and I remember it like the rhythm of my breathing. Always acceptable and always complete – what else is there to work for, to worry for, to weary for?

Every grace-empowered, believing action in the Christian life begins and ends in a place of rest.

We have not been saved in order to work for more salvation. We have been saved and are being saved by the power of the Spirit and the grace of the gospel in order to proclaim His glory.

Fret and frenzy do not proclaim that His finished work meant my acceptance and completeness. Rest does. Fret and frenzy are what you do when you are convinced something else will make you complete and accepted – that Christ’s work wasn’t finished enough.

“I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief.” Mark 9:24

Posted on by Caroline 2

sweaty mess and sci-fi

Sometimes there is no way around it – my legs stick to the driver seat, my hair twists around in a knot atop my head, and a pool of sweat collects on my lower back.

#summer

But, I’m gonna be real honest right now: I feel like I’m lost in a sci-fi film. Every other moment I’m drowning and in the opposite moment I’m waking up like a child. I guess you could describe the whole disturbing scene stretching out these days as exciting, but I’m just barely hanging on.

Turns out, all that talk of preaching to myself better be more than blog posts, better be more than resolutions and more than my typical free-spirited whimsy. It better be more, because it’s getting serious. Every other moment (the drowning ones) require serious rescue and lip service won’t do the trick, ever.

Believing moment by moment is a catchy concept and one I can get behind – trusting that God is providing and will provide the strength to go on in His future grace.

We are banking on the overflow of future storehouses and you’ll always find me saying “Amen” to that.

But riding around in my car with kids I love so much it tears my heart out, that’s not a concept. Having to say goodbye to these kids is not a concept I can either agree or disagree with, it’s just going to happen. Looking at my bank accounts is not conceptual – the numbers are like Shakira’s hips, they don’t lie. Trying to sell my car Eddie, trying to juggle transition, trying to get hired… those are not concepts.

This is my reality. I’m not sitting in a church pew, throwing out “amens” when the pastor is on point and scribbling my sermon doodles about theological connections.

Believing is not a concept, it is reality. It has to be, or I sank a long time ago.

Every other moment (the drowning ones), I reach out for the reality of future grace. I have to believe with my mind, praying all unbelief into captivity (2 Corinthians 10:5) because otherwise I would be paralyzed with fears that everything won’t work out. I have to believe with my heart, trusting God’s protection and that He will complete the work He has started (Philippians 1:6). I have to believe with my soul, hoping with certainty in what God has promised for the future (Psalm 42:11). I have to believe with my strength, convinced that acting out of this belief is the best thing to do (Hebrews 12:14).

I try not to flail about, but I do very few things gracefully and getting rescued is not one of them. I scramble and scurry, but every inch of me knows that believing conceptually is not life-saving.

Real believing is a sweaty mess, a gasping-for-air ordeal that can make a person extremely unattractive in all the near-drowning desperation. But believing is also the only thing that will make us beautiful, as we become more and more like Christ.

Then there are those glorious every other moments (the waking up ones) when I slip into childlike skin and the believing is less work. These are great gifts and I cherish them, sandwiched between near drownings. God’s preservation of our childlike-ness is a very beautiful thing.

This is the little sci-fi memoir I’m living at the moment, making my life a sweaty mess. It’s probably just this heat getting to me.

Posted on by Caroline 0

in the middle of things

It’s easier to say “Nevermind.”

This afternoon is looking like stacks of files and a printer on overdrive. I’m going through the motions, pushing through for the coffee and my favorite clients on the other side of this afternoon.

Today needs a lot of preaching because I’ve never learned a lesson that sticks forever. In this case, less than 24 hours exhausted my memory. I need to hear Truth over and over again – in the middle of paper stacks and in between the email reports of my mom’s hospital stay, in the craigslist circus of selling everything and in the hunt for a cheap roundtrip ticket for an interview, in the late night prayer sessions with a friend and in all those moments when people ask, “How are you doing with everything?” and I just want to say “Nevermind.”

If I’m not hearing Truth, I’m hearing something else.

Truth is hope enough, grace enough, and love enough to completely cover the things I’m currently “in the middle of” and even to overwhelm them with plenty.

The question is not whether that is true. The question is, “Do I believe it?”

Sometimes, you preach truth to yourself relentlessly, believing God in the middle of and in between all the ways it doesn’t feel true.

let LOVE fly like cRaZy
Posted on by Caroline 2