It could be worse

It just doesn't get any better than Pensacola Beach, Florida. :)

It just doesn’t get any better than Pensacola Beach, Florida. :)

Granted, I was complaining. To my credit the woe-is-me talk was harmless, sarcastic humor—pretty funny stuff too, I might add—but regardless, there was belly aching. And on this particular day, in this particular place, my grumbling didn’t sit well with someone nearby. She glared at me and exclaimed, “It could be worse!”

She was right.

Ever since, I’ve been borderline obsessing over those four words. Was she scolding me? After all, blessings do indeed abound, and I should be more grateful. Was she helping me look at the bright side? If so, it’s uncomfortable to feel relief when someone else suffers more. Regardless of her intention, the sentiment was accurate: It could be worse. So what am I supposed to do with that?

First and foremost, this revelation: I could be afraid of what happens when this life runs out. But I’m not. I could lie awake wondering what my purpose is, why I was born at all. But I don’t. I could run myself ragged trying to be good enough for God to notice me, to love me, to save me from myself. But I don’t have to.

Thanks to Jesus, it couldn’t be better. And I am eternally grateful.

So why think twice about one comment? I’m honestly not sure. Can’t help believing, though, that it’s making me grow. Since the “could be worse” encounter, I’ve been praying about the real Ava—who she is on the inside, whose hope she shows to others. Here’s what God’s been teaching me:

  • Struggles are temporary. And to rise above the earthly bad, I must consciously focus on the heavenly good (Philippians 4:8).
  • Emotions can blind me with grief, regret, insecurity, and self-pity. I need at least one safe person—a wise, Jesus follower who knows my heart—who’ll let me vent but won’t let me stay there. (Ecclesiastes 4:9-12)
  • I shouldn’t complain to anyone and everyone within earshot. I may be misunderstood. (Philippians 2:14)

More than anything, I’m learning that—like it or not—my outside should match my inside. I’m praying for infectious joy, that a smile is found on my face. That the smile is 100% real. And that all my words please Him.

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Don’t call me sexy

blog pic 2Dear Friends on Social Media:

This is Kate, and I have a request: Please don’t call me sexy. I know you mean well, and it’s nice you think I’m pretty. But the word sexy, I’ve gotta say, doesn’t actually mean pretty. In fact, it has little to do with my face. When you say I’m sexy, you’re saying I arouse sexual desire. You’re saying I’m sexually suggestive. But to me, that shouldn’t be true. ‘Cause I follow Jesus. And I’m only seventeen.

Maybe it’s just a word to you, a slang term that’s no big deal. But what if it’s a big deal to me? Words—even the ones we don’t think much about—have the power to nourish or starve, to uplift or degrade. And if we’re not careful, the idea behind a word can take root. It can become part of us. It can become us.

I’m not saying it’s a bad word; sexiness has its place. In a few years, after I’m Mrs. So-and-So, the time for smoking hotness will happen. (Oh, my.) And as Mrs. So-and-So it’ll be nice to be physically noticed, even gushed about. But you can bet that when it happens, it’ll be in private.

Until then, though, please don’t connect me with sexy or hot or anything else with that connotation. As a Jesus girl, I work hard at downplaying the hotness and up-playing the classy—a timeless look that my Lord, the right guy, and I find worthy. Yes, that means modest fashion. (In a world of cleavage, I’m all about the layering!) Yes, that means modest photo ops. (In a world of sexy pouts, I’m all about the winsome smile.) And yes, that means standing strong when pouty-lipped cleavage chicks get more likes. :)

Thanks for respecting my convictions, for protecting my name. If the mood strikes, please notice my new haircut. Or my glowing skin after a day in the sun. Or how the joy of Christ shines on my face. That would make me smile!

So can we please back off the sexy? And bring the pretty back? For all us Jesus beauties.

In Christ,

A Daughter of the Most High (Kate)

 “Death and life are in the power of the tongue. . . .” Proverbs 18:21

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The tongue trap

girls_whispering[1]Let’s talk about talking. First, some observations: One, girls generally enjoy it. I know this firsthand. Two, words are important. They shape us, challenge us, inspire us. Three, we sometimes say more than we should. Hurtful things, even. Maybe we’re bored. Perhaps we want more attention, more popularity, more relevance. But more can get us in trouble. Maybe it’s time for less.

I learned the value of less during high school. A rumor—one of those juicy ones—was spreading about Jane. For me, a pretty sheltered teen, hearing details gave me scrumptious scoop about sin life. It also kept me in the cafeteria-chat loop. Besides, the more I knew, the more I could pray for her, right? (A conversation beginning with “pray for so-and-so who is doing the following things” can be dangerous, ladies. Careful on this one.)

Then one day Jane asked me for advice. Yes, me, the one who listened to the gossip and, I’m sure, weighed in as well. Why me? Because she assumed I’d rise above the rumors. She knew I walked with Jesus, and Jesus girls are (supposedly) different. “I trust you,” Jane said. “And I need you to pray for me.”

Oh, Jane. Oh, that I’d listened to others less and to my Savior more. Oh, that I’d backed away from the scoop, that I’d been less self-involved and more compassionate. Like my Jesus.

Decades later, I still occasionally hear women saying more than they should. Hurtful things. Sadly, tongues don’t stop wagging just because we’re older. But thankfully, God has changed me over the years and has shown me how to avoid the Tongue Trap:

  1. Speak up when conversations go south. No need to be mean or confrontational. Just be honest: “I’d sure hate for someone to talk about me like this, so can we change the subject?”
  2. Pray for a person the same amount of time she’s brought up in conversation. This technique is rewarding in many ways, let me tell you.
  3. Offer fewer details to acquaintances about my own shortcomings. Not everyone needs to know all the specifics, and it reduces potential gossip about me.
  4. Find the joy in drama-free conversations. Backing away from scoop means living without the craziness of everyone’s business. Oddly enough, this reduces my own stress and makes me more thankful.
  5. Study and implement God’s wisdom about the tongue. The books of Proverbs and James are great starting places. Bottom line: Talk less, listen lovingly, and make sure God is glorified in whatever I say.

Let’s take care of each other, Jesus girls. Less harmful chatter, okay? And more kindness to others? Somebody’s heart depends on it.

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The little things

Some of my best times with God are spent at Pensacola Beach, Florida.

Some of my best times with God are spent at Pensacola Beach, Florida.

I wanted to see dolphins. It was a perfect beach day, the water blue with white waves dotting the seascape. “One thing’s for sure,” I thought: “If I were a dolphin, I’d do flips just past that sandbar.” But so far, no sea creatures wowed me. Not even a jellyfish.

Sitting there with toes in the sand, gratitude flowed. I thanked God for beautiful Pensacola Beach. I gushed about the endless shades of color. And then on a whim, I threw in the dolphin thing.

“Lord,” I began, “You know what would be cool? A dolphin show. I’d love to see some full-body jumps. Or a few of them playing. Or even a fin, Lord. How about just one fin?”

You’re probably guessing that something awesome happened next. After all, God hears our desires and displays His glory. So it makes perfect sense that a Dolphin Miracle, so to speak, was about to happen at noon on Thursday.

If you’re thinking along these lines, you’re partially right: At noon on Thursday, God’s glory was displayed. But it wasn’t through a dolphin.

As I finished my prayer and stared into the Gulf, movement appeared near shore. Not way out there where the big boys play but close to me. Suddenly, in slow motion it seemed, a little fish did the trick of its life.  In my forty-nine years of beach trips, I’ve never seen a jump with such flair! This may be a slight exaggeration, but I think he nailed a triple-twist backwards gill tuck. For sure, it was a perfect ten. And I believe it was just for me.

After laughing out loud and considering a standing ovation, I got it: “Oh, Lord, your glory is not only in the BIG. Yes, you answer weighty prayers, and yes, you lavish us greatly. But your majesty is every bit as impressive in the places we overlook—in the seemingly ordinary, the seemingly unimportant. But it’s all spectacular, Father! We don’t have to wait for big glory to appear. We just have to open our eyes.”

So thank you, little fish. I wasn’t expecting such a gift from such an unassuming source. But I know who created you, and I know His specialty: Making something pretty great out of something pretty small.

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 “Worship the Lord in the splendor of his holiness. . . . . The Lord thunders over the mighty sea.The voice of the Lord is powerful; the voice of the Lord is majestic.  Psalm 29:2-4

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Alive and well

friendsHe’s no longer dead; just let that sink in. A human body once breathed. And then the breathing stopped. But a new day dawned and with the rising sun, the Son of God arose.

He’s alive and well: The angel said it. An empty tomb revealed it. Eyewitnesses proclaimed it. Unfathomable, for sure—But the truth of this birth-to death-to life again event is a literal lifesaver.

Case in point, me. I’m no longer dead. I used to be. Physically I was in the world, but spiritually there was no heartbeat. Then Jesus Christ showed up, helped me see a better way—the only way, in fact. So I chose what enlightened dead folks choose: To follow Him, all the way to eternal life.

Now I’m born again. A Christ follower. Saved. My hope is alive, my purpose is sure, and my Risen Lord is the reason.

So what do I sing this Resurrection Day? He’s no longer dead! Jesus sits in triumph at the Father’s right hand. And His Holy Spirit courses through my veins—Let the miracle of that sink in!

Are you singing too? I hope so.

I hope you’re alive in Christ. I pray you’re dead to old sins, former shame, and lingering doubt. No room for those inside the living.

Happy Resurrection Day, worthy daughters in Christ. Let’s breathe in those sweet gulps of new life. All is well, for He is risen indeed!

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When standing ain’t easy

girlieHey, little sister in Christ: I’m asking you to do a hard thing. I’m asking you to go against the crowd, away from the noise of the norm. I’m asking you to move toward Truth in an all-out sprint and then hold on with everything you’ve got. Your very life depends on it.

Promise, I’m not being melodramatic. Every day, every decision, every consequence is real, and it forms who you are: What kind of friend you are now, what kind of mom you’ll be later. One thing does lead to another, and regret can be hard to shake. Believe me, I know.

So I’m asking you—begging you, actually—to do the hard thing: Stand tall with Jesus, even when you’re standing alone. Be His light, even when you’re lonely. Or teased. Or disappointed. It’s difficult, yes. But it’s temporary and oh, so worth it.

Have you noticed that the enemy doesn’t do hard? What’s impulsive, what’s immediate, what’s easy—That’s his trap. And he lies, you know. Says you deserve this-or-that right now. Says so-and-so won’t matter in the long run. Then before too long, you’re caught up in the easy—Easy mistakes, easy guilt, easy emptiness.

Unfortunate. And unnecessary.

But standing with Jesus….Wow. For starters, you don’t stand alone; He helps you do the hard things. And even when it’s hard, you know there’s a reason—a good one. He’ll get the glory, and you’ll feel complete. Believe me, I know.

Is it always hard, standing with Jesus? Not always. Sometimes friends prop you up with encouragement. Sometimes you’re so full of His strength you could stand forever! And sometimes you get a sweet glimpse of what He’s up to—Of your purpose. Of His blessings. So little sister, will you stand with Jesus and me? Let’s do hard together, regardless of the cost.

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“Stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.” 1 Corinthians 15:18
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Stopped in my tracks

traffic lightI’m going to be late. Again. Hurrying to my car, I hope that maybe, just maybe, the traffic lights will be green. Lord, please make them green! Oh, how I need this little favor today. Please?

Within minutes I see a potential blessing ahead: A ripe, red light has just changed into that beautiful shade of “come on through, sweet thing. Here’s your reward for being awesome.” For me, God? Don’t mind if I do.

But then it happens. Just as I approach the intersection…RED! Now I’m red. Can you believe it? Everything bad happens to me. Here I am, doing the best I can, asking for the tiniest thing. What’s the deal?

Maybe God is teaching me patience. Or perhaps it’s a slap on the wrist; after all, I do need to get up earlier. Or come to think of it, maybe God is saving my life! I heard about a woman delayed in traffic, only to realize later she avoided a pile-up. That could be the reason.

But—and this is a novel idea—what if it’s not about me at all?

There’s a mini-van on the intersecting street. Inside a woman smiles at her green light. She’s weary from the midnight shift. Silently she prays, “Lord, guide me home safely. I haven’t known you long, but I hear you care for my needs. Right now I need a safe, clear path on these streets. Will you help me?”

On the corner is a man selling newspapers. Unbeknownst to anyone, he needs $20 for his daughter’s field trip. But it’s been raining, and no one’s buying. Just as the light turns red, though, he sees a break in the clouds. And the car behind me produces a hand waving a twenty out the window. “Keep the change,” says a voice in the car. “And have a blessed day.”

The teen in a truck beside me is also stopped. He’s never noticed that cross on the billboard. Funny, he’s been thinking about church lately and decided just this morning to visit one nearby. What he doesn’t know (yet) is that he’ll find Jesus next month and start a new legacy of Christian men in his family. In fact, his grandson—who won’t be born for decades—will lead thousands of teens to the Lord.

So here I sit, a tiny cog in the beautiful wheel of God’s glory in motion. This appointed pause in time has little to do with me. And that’s a good thing.

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The solitary road

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERASometimes it’s a journey for two: Just one willing Jesus girl and the God she trusts. Maybe she asked to be on this road. Maybe she didn’t. But here she is, walking hand-in-hand with Holiness. It’s quiet and unsure and probably scary. But it’s necessary. Very, very necessary.

Don’t get me wrong about this trip for two: Observers are nearby. They pray for her, advise her. They share similar travels, encourage her to trust and embrace and breathe. But their journey is not the same. And the Spirit in her leads the way. So when it comes to setting out—doing the thing He’s put in her heart—it’s just one girl and her Lord.

I meet many young women on solitary roads. Most paths are temporary, some seem hard, while others are promising. Several girls chase dreams. A few return from self-propelled detours. They ask for direction, so I point them to Scripture. Then I mention the gift of going solo.

But some prefer traveling in groups. They ask me to join the road trip, to translate their prayers and God’s whispers. They want me to fix things (and sometimes I’d like to). I understand their requests: They’re unsure about traveling alone with Him. They’re afraid of messing things up.

But I cannot come. To do so would cripple them, compromise their paths. To do so would rob them of LIFE. Instead, I share the blessings of my first solitary journey:

Growing a real relationship. God became personal—like someone with skin!—when we were one-on-One.
Learning to hear God clearly. I heard Him—really heard Him!—during the quiet.
Realizing His bigger, better plan. God showed me the splendor of Plans B, C, and D.
Enjoying sweet things. He spoiled me with simple, smile-inducing reminders of His presence.
Treasuring secrets too precious to tell. Some parts of our intimate travels are still between God and me.

It’s your journey, Worthy Daughter. Yours and His. Walk it with confidence, knowing He’ll guide you in unimaginable ways. It’s a grown-up path for growing travelers. But you can do it. And this road makes all the difference.

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To love Him is to know Him

coraWhat do you wish were different about 2013? I have a few regrets—always do, since this body and brain of mine keep ruining my good intentions. There was sadness too, some of which I couldn’t control. Oh, and that to-do list I made last January 1st? Just found it, untouched, in a pile of unopened mail.

Goodbye, 2013. Whatever you brought me, here’s what God says about the past 365 days:

1)   He knew about every one of them. Beforehand, even!

2)   He loved me through them. Even the bad ones I caused myself.

3)   He promises to use them for good. If I’m devoted to Him, that is.

So now, as 2014 peeks its squeaky clean self around the corner, I’m ready for anything! How about you? May I suggest something that’s promising? Better yet, want to hear God’s advice to me about the new year? I heard it in my head while reading scripture:

“Make just one goal for 2014. Get to know me. Really know me. And then you’ll really start living.”

Gotta admit, my first reaction was, “That’s it, Lord? Just one resolution? But what about those ten extra pounds, the messy desk, my whole ‘gonna be nicer’ carryover from 2013? We’re talking good things, necessary things.”

“Nope. Take your eyes off the list,” I heard in my gut. “For now, focus on the words of John 17:3,  Jesus’ simple, sincere prayer to Me: ‘This is the way to have eternal life—To know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, the one you sent to earth.’”

Confession time: I thought I knew Him (well enough) already. But then I studied the definition of “know.” Uh oh:

KNOW

Verb: To be aware of, conscious of, informed. Synonyms: To sense, realize.

Verb: To develop a close relationship through spending time with; to be familiar or friendly with.

What part of the definition gets your attention? For me, it was almost every word. I know Him, but do I sense His presence? I know Him, but am I informed of His Word? I know Him, but is our relationship intimate? Oh, Lord, I want to know you!

The benefits of this resolution seem endless. Eternal, even. And I can’t help thinking that a single, sincere focus on Him will take care of other things. :) Happy New Year, worthy daughters. I pray we know Him in 2014.

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Invisible blessings

snowflakesMy sister texted me something pretty special the other day. It was unusual but smile worthy, in a quiet kind of way. And honestly, I couldn’t wait to share it with you.

The Oklahoma afternoon was icy, cold, and dangerous to drive. My sister Andrea sat warm and toasty in her Honda at the high school waiting on Jackson. Suddenly, movement caught her eye. It was a man. A man in freezing temperatures walking toward a certain car in the student parking lot. What in the world was he up to?

Andrea’s text can take it from here:

text five

World’s coolest Dad! (No chilly pun intended.) I replied to the text, noting that the image of him scraping ice with freezing hands brought me to tears. And Andrea was perceptive in posing this question: Did his child even consider the selfless, generous gesture? Or did he go about his merry way, oblivious to the gift of sacrifice, protection, and love?

And that’s when my sis Andrea concocted the perfect analogy. Here’s her follow-up text:

text three

Boy, was she on to something! How many times has Father God been my heroic ice scraper? How often has He quietly gone before me to smooth the road, clear the path, make a way? Maybe I noticed. More likely I didn’t. Just got in my car and rushed off to the next adventure, oblivious to the One standing there.

Lord, make me aware of your blessings. Help me notice your goodness. I want to be thankful in all seasons, but especially when cold winds blow.

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