How to Survive Tough Times

8 Seconds

Megan Breedlove January 29, 2018 No Comments

Yesterday afternoon, Phil, the kids, and I attended the Fort Worth Stock Show and Rodeo. This year, we got to see the rodeo as well as tour the grounds, look at the animals, ride the rides, etc. My favorite event of this rodeo session was the bull riding.

The rider sits astride the bull’s back while the bull is still in the chute. He makes sure he has the rope wrapped just so around his hand. Then, he gives a single nod, and another cowboy pulls the gate open.

Out of that chute comes a wildly bucking bull. He wants that cowboy off his back, and he kicks, jumps, and twists as he attempts to fling the rider into the dust of the arena. Meanwhile, the cowboy rides with one hand gripping the rope for dear life, his other arm raised into the air, desperately trying to remain centered and upright (not to mention on the bull) until the buzzer sounds 8 seconds later.

Eight seconds doesn’t sound like a long time, but it must seem like an eternity when you’re on the back of a bull who’s trying to throw you off.

Life is a lot like bull riding in some ways. You think you’re ready for it, but suddenly, it begins rearing and twisting like crazy. You’re desperate to stay on, but you don’t know how much longer you can. It feels like life is trying to toss you off its back into the dust.

When they’re bull riding, cowboys only think about that very instant. Their minds and bodies must be focused on the here and now, or they’re going down. But in life, when we’re being tossed about like crazy, we have to focus on what happens after the buzzer, not before.

When the buzzer sounds in bull riding, the bullfighters (also known as “rodeo clowns”) rush toward you so you can dismount. Then they distract the bull so you can get away. You head to the rails and climb up. You’re safe. It’s over.

In life, as you dismount from your circumstances (whether in this life or in heaven), God Himself rushes in. Instead of heading to the rails, you head for His embrace. You’re safe. It’s over.

May we never forget that no matter what we’re going through, the buzzer will sound, the ride will end, and we’ll be safe. The pain will be over. We will have won.

Even when it seems like it will, your pain won’t last forever. The end is coming.

Hold out for the buzzer, my friend. Hold on just a little longer.

2 Corinthians 4:17—So our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. (NIV)

The More Things Change…

Megan Breedlove January 8, 2018 No Comments

You’ve heard the saying “the more things change, the more they stay the same”?

Allow me to catch you up on what God’s been doing in my life for the last six-plus months. When I do, and when I share one of the many lessons He’s taught me through all of it, you’ll see why I titled this devotion what I did.

On June 20 of last year, I accepted a position as the third-grade Spanish Immersion teacher at a nearby school in my local school district. I had taught before, but never for a public school, and never with an elementary-level focus. But my husband and I believed that getting a job at all, and accepting this job in particular, was God’s plan for me and for our family.

For the rest of the summer, I prepared to teach. I continued my online coursework toward my teaching certificate; I consulted friends who are teachers for tips on classroom management; I bought things for my classroom; I attended approximately 80 hours of training; I prayed and thought and planned some more.

It turned out that school was not at all what I had thought it would be. For the first two weeks, I cried every time I thought about having to go to work. God and I had some honest, raw conversations during this time and in the following weeks.

Then, in the middle of October, my beloved stepmother, who had turned just 61 years old a few days before, died suddenly and unexpectedly of a heart attack. I was devastated. Since then, I’ve experienced not only grief that flares up when I’m least prepared for it, but family issues related to my dad’s health and finances.

At first, it seemed that my life had changed a lot in the past six-plus months. But the more I thought about it, the more I realized that what truly constitutes my life hadn’t changed at all.

According to the words that came from the very mouth of Jesus, true life now, and always has, consisted of knowing God. In another place, Jesus made it clear that the only things God wants from me are to know and love Him, and to pour out His love on anyone He puts in my path as my neighbor. This is true life, Jesus said, and that hasn’t changed in the past six months. Nor will it ever.

No matter where I work, my purpose for working there will be to love the people I serve. My comfort level at my job has nothing to do with what constitutes life.

Similarly, whether I’m surrounded by my loved ones until the day I die, or whether some of them depart this earth before I do, my best and most loving relationship will always be found with God. I can enjoy my earthly relationships with others, but they aren’t my life.

Circumstances can change in a heartbeat, or in the cessation of one. They’re shifting sand. My life—what fulfills me, what brings me the best and highest joy—is now, and always has been, loving and being loved by God Himself, and sharing His love with those around me.

Yes, I would love to have a job that’s comfortable and easy every moment of every day. Yes, I would love to have my stepmother back for just one more day, one more phone call, one more text, even.

But even if I could….

Even if I could, what matters most in life wouldn’t change. My circumstances would change, yes. My level of joy? Oh, yes. At least temporarily.

But not what constitutes true life for me. Because true life is God, and He never changes.

I’ll go on trying to make positive changes at school. I’ll continue to miss Sheryl every single day. But I will refuse to believe that true life is found in the absence of distress or the presence of whatever, or whomever, I desire. Instead, I will do my imperfect best to live out the truth to anyone who might be watching that God is enough for me, now and forevermore.

The more the details change, the more what really matters, stays the same.

In that, I am comforted. In that, I truly live.

John 17:3—Now this is eternal life: that they know you, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom you have sent. (NIV)

Luke 10:27—He answered, “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind” and “Love your neighbor as yourself.” (NIV)

When Moms Get a Little Bit Desperate

Megan Breedlove May 29, 2017 No Comments

My daughters Lindsey and Jessica have several hamsters (it’s a little hard to keep track of exactly how many, because two of the hamsters are breeding females and, well, they breed. Regularly). I could go into all the reasons why I think caring for hamsters benefits my girls, but the reason that’s relevant for today’s devotional is this: Caring for mother hamsters seems to teach my girls an awful lot about motherhood in general, especially as applied to humans.

In other words, sometimes the girls don’t really consider the whole parenting thing from my perspective, but it seems like they automatically consider it from the mother hamsters’ perspective.

To prove my point, I’d like to share with you a conversation Lindsey and I had the other day.

Lindsey: “Mom, the mother hamster is desperately trying to run away from her children.”
Me: “Yeah, I can understand that.”
Lindsey: “She’s climbing up onto the roof, and everything.”
Me: (shrugs knowingly)
Lindsey: “I think her children are nuts.”
Me: (keeps my mouth shut)

God bless Iris (the mother hamster). That little critter taught my daughter more about mothering in a few seconds than I could have in a thousand lectures. I’d like to share with you three lessons Iris taught Lindsey:

Sometimes, moms just need to get away. They may head to the roof of a wire cage, or they may lock themselves inside the bathroom for awhile even when they don’t need to use the facilities. Because sometimes, moms get desperate. They. Just. Need. A. Break.

And this is okay. Nobody would expect a mother hamster to feel guilty for needing a break from her children. Why do we allow ourselves to feel guilty for wanting to get away from our children for a little while? I mean, where did we get the idea that we’re never supposed to need a break? That if we do, it means we’re not competent enough, or spiritual enough, or “supermom” enough?

Even Jesus, when He walked this earth, took time away from His disciples to be on his own. (It’s not like He ever got away with it for very long, though; people always came to find Him. Sound familiar?) If even the very Son of God needed a break because He was human too, then why should we expect ourselves to be able to keep going indefinitely without one?

Sometimes, moms need to get away because of their children. Somehow, it’s much easier, emotionally speaking, for Lindsey to understand that a hamster’s children drive her crazy than it is for her to understand that she and her siblings sometimes drive me crazy. Lindsey can look into Iris’ little world and see that, yes, sometimes kids drive their mom crazy, and it doesn’t mean that the kids are bad or that the mom is bad. It’s just the way life is.

In this way, Lindsey can understand that when I need a break from my kids, it’s not because I think they’re bad children (though their behavior may sometimes be bad). It doesn’t mean I don’t love them. And it doesn’t mean that I won’t come back and take care of them. Which brings me to #3….

Mom always comes back. In other words, even though Iris leaves her babies sometimes, she always comes back and resumes taking care of them. She’s not trying to get away from them forever, just temporarily. Then, when she comes back, she’s the same loving, caretaking mom she’s always been.

Likewise, when you and I leave our children, they can be sure that we’ll come back, with no disruption in our relationship with them. We’ll pick up where we left off. It’ll be like we never left—except that now, we’ll be more rested. More patient. More willing and ready to do the things that motherhood requires of us.

The more I think about it, the more I appreciate Iris. I don’t know that I’ve ever considered a hamster to be a good example in terms of mothering before, but I do now. And I’m grateful to her for teaching my girls that it’s okay for moms to need a break.

The next time I need one, I’m going to take one—without feeling guilty. I hope you will follow Iris’ example and do the same. If you do, and you want a mommy friend to spend your break time with, you’re welcome to spend it with me. You know where to find me.

Just look up on the roof.

Matthew 14:23—After he had dismissed them, he went up on a mountainside by himself to pray. Later that night, he was there alone. (NIV)

When God Seems Too Slow

Megan Breedlove February 13, 2017 No Comments

Last Sunday, along with much of the rest of America, my husband and I watched Super Bowl LI. Timmy watched occasionally, not because he cares about football, but because he wanted to be where Daddy and I were. So while Phil and I enjoyed the game, Timmy’s favorite part was the Skittles commercial, where he learned that you could make a rainbow out of the candies (“Taste the Rainbow”).

Timmy asked me to buy him a rainbow, so the next time I made a grocery list, I put “1 pkg. of Skittles—Timmy” on the list. As soon as my husband got home with the groceries and handed the package to Timmy, Timmy asked me to open it for him.

Usually, I just tear a corner off the bag. But since Timmy tends to spill candy, I thought it might work better if I pulled the two halves of the bag apart at the top. I carefully began pulling on each side of the wrapper slowly, so that it wouldn’t come apart suddenly and fling a rainbow all over my living room.

Timmy, seeing only that it was taking me far too long to open his rainbow, said sweetly, “Hmm. It looks like you forgot to bring your muscles.”

I’m sure it did look to him like I wasn’t strong enough to do the job. In his mind, that was the only explanation that made sense. After all, if I were capable of doing so, I’d rip that bag wide open and give him what he wanted right now. Wouldn’t I?

Well, no. Because my ways were higher than his ways.

Sound familiar?

Scripture tells us that God’s ways are higher than our ways (see Isaiah 55:9). You and I affirm that. Of course God knows much more than we do, we say. In the calm, peaceful times, it’s easy for us to affirm that God’s ways are different from ours, and that there are some things He does that we will never understand. But when life happens and we suffer pain because God isn’t doing what we want Him to do right now, we forget who we are and who He is, and we question His ways. We question His abilities. We question His love.

Desperate for relief from out pain, we conclude that He must be doing something wrong. Because He wouldn’t really want us to suffer like this, would He?

Would He?

Yes and no. It’s not that God delights in suffering; far from it! God never delights in any of the horrible, damaging effects that sin has brought into the world. But God does know that sometimes, our suffering is somehow necessary to His plan.

Well yay, we’re tempted to think. God’s plan is accomplished, and that’s great. But what about me? Do I matter so little to Him that He will willingly sacrifice me to achieve His greater plan?

Again, yes and no.

Yes, God sometimes allows us to experience pain because somehow, the results of all of that are going to further His great and glorious plan.

But no, He doesn’t let us suffer because He cares so little about us. It’s not that at all. You see, the furtherance of His plan for the world is what’s best for us.

This statement sounds harsh and cruel if we believe that what’s best for us involves eliminating as much of our pain as possible. But if we believe that the fulfillment of God’s purposes is what is best, we must acknowledge that sometimes, experiencing pain will somehow be necessary.

I don’t pretend to know why everyone has to experience each moment of pain and suffering that crosses her life. I only know that somehow, it’s necessary. Because a God who loves us so much that He was willing to sacrifice Himself for us won’t allow us to suffer one second longer than He has to.

He may be acting more slowly than we’d like. But He’s never too slow.

He always acts at just the right time. And He’s as eager for that moment—the moment when He can relieve your suffering—as you are.

He longs for that day, too.

2 Peter 3:9b—The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. (NIV)

Why Aren’t We Going Yet?

Megan Breedlove February 6, 2017 No Comments

This past weekend, Timmy and I went to Tulsa, Oklahoma, to see Paw Patrol Live!. We drove up on Friday and stayed overnight at a hotel, then got up the next morning to get ready to see the show.

The only problem was, Timmy woke up early due to excitement, and we were therefore ready long before it was time to leave. Timmy was mostly patient up through breakfast, but once we were back in our room with nothing to do but wait until departure time, he just couldn’t stand it. “When are we going to leave for Paw Patrol?” he asked over and over.

I told him repeatedly that we would leave at 9:15, which would give us time to get gas, drive to the venue, find parking, and get to our seats. Unsatisfied, Timmy kept repeating his question until I told him to stop asking—at which point, he changed his question to, “Why aren’t we going yet?”

“Because it’s not time to leave yet,” I said. “I will tell you when it’s time to leave, I promise.”

Even then, poor Timmy had a hard time waiting.

I don’t blame him, however, because I’m just like him. I have a hard time waiting, too, especially when it’s something that’s hugely important to me, like Paw Patrol Live! was to Timmy. So when I knew that God wanted to teach me a lesson through this experience, I assumed He wanted to teach me to wait patiently, because He knows when the right time is for everything. And He does—oh, how He wants me to learn that!—but that’s not all. He also wants me, and you, to realize how He feels when He has to make us wait for something we deeply desire.

How does He feel when He knows that on the one hand, He could grant His child’s wish, but on the other hand, He must not? When He holds back His hand because the desired thing will be good one day, but not yet, and He sees His child suffering?

I don’t know how to define it. I don’t know if I entirely know the answer. But I do know this, because Scripture teaches it over and over: God is not unmoved by our suffering. Ever. His confidence in the goodness and perfection of His plan means that He knows it is right to make us wait, not that He is unaware of the suffering this will cause us or that He is indifferent to our pain.

So, while I may not be able to define it, I think I can begin to get a glimpse of the answer, and so can you. Imagine how you would feel in that situation—you know you must make your child wait, but the longer you do, the more his suffering increases. How would you feel then?

Be reassured, my friends. Be comforted. God will never ask you, His beloved child, to wait if it’s not truly necessary. He will never withhold a good thing from you one second longer than He has to.

When giving that gift is both for His glory and in your best interest (fortunately, those two are always the same), He will present it to you.

He longs to give you good things, and He will, as soon as He can.

He’s looking forward to that moment, too.

James 1:17—Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows. (NIV)

When You’ve Just. Got. Nothing.

Megan Breedlove August 22, 2016 No Comments

My sister is my best friend. We keep in touch regularly and frequently. We sometimes talk on the phone even when we don’t have anything much to say. At some point, if we run out of things we can pretend are important enough to talk about, there will come a long pause, and then one of us will say, “Well…I got nothin’.”

Today, it is with reluctance that I say the same to you, the precious mom reading this. And I’m sorry to have to say it. But I got nothin’.

The details don’t matter, and I’m not including them here for the same reason I think Paul never told us what his “thorn in the flesh” was: so that we could all identify with him, instead of only a few. And I’m well aware that others in this world are suffering far worse than I am. But suffice it to say that right now, I am spread so emotionally thin and am struggling to bear so much stress and pain that I have no encouraging words for you. I have no funny stories. I have absolutely nothing to offer you that would make your day any better, urge you any closer to the Lord, or even make it worth your time to read this.

Unless, of course, there is someone out there who can somehow benefit from reading the following words: I still have faith.

I do not have faith that God will necessarily make my circumstances better (some will not improve until I reach Heaven, unless God should choose to do a bona fide miracle). Can He, if He wants to? Oh, yes. But will He? I don’t know.

But if He doesn’t, it won’t be because He doesn’t care. It will be because somehow, in some way, He knows that He must not. That He can not, if He is to do what is right and best (and only He gets to determine what those are). It won’t be because He is somehow unaffected by my neediness and pain; on the contrary, He will weep with me.

I don’t know whether or not He is going to take away my pain. I hope He does! But I refuse to define His goodness by whether or not he changes my circumstances. I refuse to stop loving Him simply because He won’t do what I want, like some sort of genie in a bottle.

I refuse to accept good from God, and not trouble.

I choose faith.

I choose Him.

Job 2:10—“Shall [I] accept good from God, and not trouble?” (NIV)

Daniel 3:17-18—“If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to deliver us from it, and he will deliver us from Your Majesty’s hand. But even if he does not, we want you to know, Your Majesty, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” (NIV; emphasis mine)

Running Blind

Megan Breedlove May 16, 2016 No Comments

David and Goliath The way my husband, Phil, tells the story, he and Timmy were getting ready to cross the parking lot to the doors of Wal-Mart. Phil reminded Timmy to stop and look both ways for oncoming traffic, which Timmy did. “No cars!” Timmy announced, then began running full steam ahead.

A short time later, he smacked up against the brick wall of the store, stumbled back, and fell to the ground. “I’m okay,” Timmy said, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. “I just couldn’t see where I was going.”

My husband could think of only one possible reason why that might be the case. “Were you running with your eyes closed?” he asked.

“Yep!” Timmy said cheerfully, turning and heading for the entrance.

Somehow, this didn’t surprise me at all. It sounds exactly like something Timmy would do. Vintage Timmy, if you will. And it was funny (since he didn’t get hurt).

What’s not so funny, however, is when you and I do the same thing and run blind when we should have our eyes wide open.

Sometimes, we effectively blind ourselves because we simply don’t pay attention to what’s going on around us. Other times, like Timmy, we deliberately blind ourselves by choosing to live in denial of what’s happening or what might be about to happen. Either way, our self-imposed blindness means that we put ourselves at risk of getting badly hurt—or of hurting others.

We have to be willing to face the pain and fear of running toward a potentially painful situation and keep our eyes open. Hard? Yes. But let me share with you one of my favorite Bible verses. I hope it will encourage you to run with your eyes wide open as much as it does me.

You remember the story of David and Goliath. Everybody in Israel is afraid of Goliath because he’s way taller (and, presumably, bigger) than they are. Nobody wants to fight him because they’re afraid. Every day, Goliath comes out to taunt the armies of Israel, and nobody does anything about it. Until David shows up, that is. Here’s how the conversation goes (my paraphrase):

David: Hey! Why isn’t anybody fighting this guy?
Israelites: He’s big and scary.
David: So what? He’s taunting God Almighty! Somebody ought to do something!
Israelites: Who? Not us.
David: Then I’ll fight him!
Israelites: You? You’re a kid!
David: Well, you guys aren’t going to do it. Let me do it!
Israelites: Well, okay. But at least wear this armor.
David (putting on armor): This is too heavy. Besides, I don’t need it, anyway.
Israelites: Okay. Good luck.

So David goes out to face Goliath, picking up five smooth stones on the way. Goliath sees him coming and says (my paraphrase): “What, this pipsqueak is going to fight me? Ha!”

And David says (direct quote): “You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the LORD Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied. This day the LORD will deliver you into my hands, and I’ll strike you down and cut off your head. This very day I will give the carcasses of the Philistine army to the birds and the wild animals, and the whole world will know that there is a God in Israel. All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the LORD saves; for the battle is the LORD’s, and he will give all of you into our hands.”

Then comes the awesome verse: “As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him” (emphasis mine).

Did you catch that? David was facing the scariest human being anybody had ever seen. He was facing what everybody else expected would be certain death. But he ran to meet the danger.

He ran toward danger. He didn’t run away from it. He ran toward it and trusted God to make things right.

Eyes wide open.

In David’s case, the brick wall fell, so to speak. In your case or in mine, God may choose not to remove the wall we see coming. But if we close our eyes as we run, the damage will be much worse. The only way we have a chance to minimize the impact is to keep our eyes open. Either God will show us a way to avoid the wall, or He’ll show us when and where and how to brace for impact.

And when the moment of impact comes, He’ll be there for us, just as Phil was there for Timmy. He’ll pick us up and dust us off…or cradle us close…or, if the pain was really bad and the wall was really hard, He’ll show us His face as we take our first breath in Heaven.

You see, God is always standing right next to the wall. And when we run toward it, we run toward Him, too.

Amen.

1 Samuel 17:48—As the Philistine moved closer to attack him, David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet him. (NIV)

Why We Should Embrace Unpleasant Consequences

Megan Breedlove March 21, 2016 No Comments

Jesus with cross “Mommy! Timmy’s being a pest again! He’s lying down on our game board so we can’t play!”

I don’t always get up and do something about it when my kids tattle. Sometimes, I merely explain to the offended party that it’s normal for boys to make noises like that and not something she can tattle about; or that that’s the response the child should expect when he or she starts something and therefore can’t complain; or that sometimes in life, you just have to let things go (which, depending on how I phrase it, might cause one or more children to burst into song).

This time, however, 4-year-old Timmy had been pestering his sisters for quite awhile. He’d been warned that he’d better be good or else. Now, it was time to make good on my promise.

I got up and headed for the living room. Timmy saw me coming, and he quickly scrambled to his feet. “I’m just going to my room,” he said, edging past me.

Obviously, Timmy wanted to avoid the consequences he feared were coming.

I can’t really blame him for that. Nobody likes unpleasant consequences. We do everything we can to avoid them, even when we know we deserve them.

But today, and especially this week, I’d like us to consider Someone Who didn’t try to avoid some horrific consequences, despite the fact that He was totally innocent.

I’m talking, of course, about Jesus. But I may be making a different point than you’ve ever heard before (I hadn’t heard it before, either, until this Sunday’s sermon), so stick with me.

We all know that through most of His sham of a trial, Jesus said nothing to defend Himself. Perhaps, like me, you’ve always assumed that Jesus said nothing because He knew it wouldn’t do any good, or because He had decided to demonstrate amazing self-control, or because He was “better than that.” All of those things are true, of course. But there was another reason Jesus remained silent that we would do well to consider.

One of the (I believe) primary reasons Jesus remained silent and refused to defend Himself was that He wanted the consequences to happen.

Though He was sinless and deserved no punishment, He was well aware of two things: first, that one consequence of His trial would be crucifixion; and second, that the crucifixion had to happen. So He kept silent precisely to bring about the consequences He never deserved, but which God the Father had decreed must take place.

He embraced what had already begun to happen to Him because He wanted it to happen. It’s not that He thought it would be fun. Quite the opposite, in fact—He knew it would be agonizing. But He wanted the results of His crucifixion more than He wanted to avoid the pain of it.

He wanted to gain His Father’s approval and the salvation of the world more than He wanted to maintain His physical comfort.

How does this pertain to you and me? Simply this: We sometimes need to desire the consequences of what is happening more than we desire to avoid the pain of it.

It all comes down to what we want most. Would we rather have a pain-free life, or would we rather experience the intimacy with Jesus that comes from walking through pain?

I’m not suggesting that we should desire pain. That’s just…no. What I’m saying is, that when we do experience unavoidable pain, instead of running from it or trying to eliminate it as soon as possible, we’d do far better to embrace it and let it guide us to spiritual depth, growth, and intimacy that wouldn’t have been possible without it.

But to do that, we have to feel pain. We have to be willing to face it, not turn our backs on it. And that’s scary. Nobody likes to be hurt. Nobody wants to feel pain one second longer than she has to. So we try to make it go away, because we think we have the option of either feeling the pain and being miserable, or feeling no pain and being happier.

In reality, the choice is not allowing pain to make us miserable vs. being happy. The choice is between letting God guide us through the pain so that we heal in some deeper way than we ever knew possible, and gain a closeness to God that we never would have had otherwise; or stuffing the pain down deep and never being truly happy again.

Again, I’m neither saying that we should seek or desire pain, nor that we shouldn’t seek comfort and counsel when we suffer. I’m saying that when pain comes, as it surely will in every single person’s life, we should let it do its work in us, let it bring us to a deeper and more joy-filled place than we would have been by trying to avoid it.

Trying to avoid pain doesn’t really work, anyway. So let’s not deny ourselves the good things God can bring out of it. Let’s follow the example of our Lord, who embraced the pain of what was happening, knowing that glory and joy awaited Him on the other side.

Romans 8:18—I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. (NIV)

Hebrews 12:2b—For the joy set before him he endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (NIV)

How Not to Worry

Megan Breedlove March 7, 2016 No Comments

worried woman This past Friday night, Lindsey and I were lounging on the couch together, just hanging out. She, of course, wanted to stay up late. But much as I wanted to continue our time together, I knew it would be better for her to get plenty of sleep.

“You’re going to have to get up early tomorrow,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s why I’m tired.”

“You’re tired in advance?” I asked.

“Yeah,” she said again. “It happens.”

Indeed, it does. I, too, have had times where I thought ahead to something that was coming up and got tired just thinking about it. You’ve probably had those times, too.

It’s understandable. The only thing is, we have to be careful about letting tomorrow affect today too much.

Apparently you and I aren’t the first ones ever to do this, because two thousand years ago, Jesus cautioned listeners now to let tomorrow mess up today. “Do not worry about tomorrow,” He said, “for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own” (Matt. 6:34, NIV).

Why would Jesus tell us not to do something that comes so naturally for us? First, worrying won’t change anything. In the verses just before the one cited above, Jesus illustrates this fact in several ways: We can’t add to our height. We can’t add a day to our lives. We just. Can’t. Do. It.

Not only does worry accomplish nothing, Jesus says, but second, we know that everything we need will be provided. All we need to do, He says, is focus on God and His priorities, and God will take care of the rest. It doesn’t make sense to worry when we know that we’re going to be taken care of.

Third, worrying destroys our peace. It churns us up inside. It’s useless (that was the first reason), it’s pointless (that was the second), and, third, it’s destructive. God doesn’t want us to harm ourselves like that.

So how do we stop worrying (which is often much easier said than done)?

First, let’s realize that Jesus wasn’t saying to stop thinking about tomorrow; He was saying we should stop worrying about it (huge difference). Thinking about tomorrow is okay; worrying isn’t.

Second, we have to admit that worrying is a choice. It’s not required. Even when we’re facing something potentially difficult, we have a choice as to the perspective we choose to take. We can choose not to let thoughts of what might happen tomorrow ruin what is happening today.

When we find ourselves tempted to worry about the possibilities, let’s choose instead to focus on the fact that today, it isn’t happening. Today, there are things to rejoice in and enjoy. There is life to be lived.

Yes, what happens tomorrow might be awful. But it might not. If it is, then God will meet us there, with His incredible love, comfort, and wisdom. We will be cared for. We will survive.

If it’s not…well, then there was no point in ever worrying about it in the first place.

Matthew 6:34—Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (NIV)

When You Need Practice

Megan Breedlove February 29, 2016 No Comments

Football practice I didn’t think picking up Cheerios was such a big deal.

Apparently, it was, at least to Timmy, who didn’t want to pick up the bag of Cheerios he’d dragged into his room for use with his Cheerios book.

“Please pick up the Cheerios and put them away,” I said.

“Aagghh!” Timmy yelled. “I’m mad! And angry! And shout-y! And I’m never going to clean up anything!”

“Oh, yes, you are,” I said firmly.

“I’m bad at cleaning up stuff,” Timmy grumbled in a last-ditch protest.

“That’s why you need practice,” I said.

There then ensued an hour-long battle over whether Timmy was or was not going to pick up the Cheerios. I told him he could sit in his room until he was willing to put the package back on the counter; he refused and kept escaping from his room; I kept putting him back.

The problem was eventually solved by Jessica, who went into Timmy’s room while I was otherwise occupied and convinced him to pick up the Cheerios. But that’s not the point.

The point is that I think that God sometimes has to do the same with us—that is, give us opportunities to practice things we’re not good at.

I don’t know why most struggles and trials happen. I don’t know why we sometimes have to keep dealing with the same thing over and over and over. But I bet that sometimes—on occasion—the reason God allows us to keep facing the same issues repeatedly is because we need practice in dealing with them.

Sometimes, it just takes us awhile to get things through our heads. Sometimes, we know in our heads how we ought to speak or think or act, but we’re not yet ready in our hearts to put those things into practice. And even when we are ready, and have the best of intentions, we still mess up.

We need practice.

It’s kind of like studying for a test or training for an athletic competition. We study, or put in the physical effort, beforehand, so that when the time of testing comes, we’re ready. Likewise, we need practice in dealing with certain issues so that when they arise, we can handle them right, or at least better than we did last time.

Not that practicing is fun. It’s not. Nobody likes struggling to hold back the words she really wants to say, or to have a good attitude when she wants to scream. Nobody wants trials or struggles. But we all want the ultimate result—being able to handle even negative situations without getting upset, and in the process, pleasing Christ.

So we’re going to have to practice. “Practice” may or may not be the purpose in our struggles. But as long as we have to struggle, let’s not waste those opportunities. Let’s use them as a way to help us progress toward the ultimate goal of being like Jesus.

God wastes nothing. And neither should we.

Hebrews 12:11—No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. (NIV)

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The More Things Change…

When Moms Get a Little Bit Desperate

When God Seems Too Slow

Why Aren’t We Going Yet?

When You’ve Just. Got. Nothing.

Running Blind

Why We Should Embrace Unpleasant Consequences

How Not to Worry

When You Need Practice

You Missed

Priorities

I Wouldn’t Do That

Little Things

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