Category Archives: anxiety

Grandpa’s Radio and Lessons in Listening

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My Grandpa was a welder and a machinist. He worked out of a shop on his farm in a small rural community. He loved to be in his shop. When I was little I always found it intriguing to go out to his shop and watch him weld. He would give me a mask and the sparks would fly. There was a distinct hum of busyness in his shop when he was in it. It would drown out the one constant noise that was always present whether Grandpa was there or not, a radio. Grandpa had the same old radio on day and night 24/7 in the room, on a shelf, next to his lathe. I guess it kept him company as he worked long hours. He loved to listen to the local news, the swap shop, and the local personalities as they broadcasted daily.

I’ve been reflecting this week on listening to God and hearing His voice. As I contemplated how much I need to listen for God to speak to me, I thought about Grandpa’s radio. So many times I would go to his shop and it was always playing. For decades it played, with exception of the occasional power outage. Sometimes I would hear it distinctly. But other times I would not hear it over the humming of Grandpa’s lathe or the banging of a hammer. However it was always there. I would hear it if I chose to listen.

God’s voice is similar to Grandpa’s radio. The humming of life drowns out His still small whisper. Not because the humming is more powerful, but because I choose to focus on it. Sometimes the banging and clatter of life’s messy circumstances try to drown out His voice as well. They try to distract me from turning my ear towards God. It’s easy to get distracted.

The point of all this is God definitely speaks. He promises me in no uncertain terms that it is possible to hear Him. In John 10:27, Jesus promises that “My sheep hear my voice…”. It’s the way He has designed this relationship. He is the good Shepherd who calls to me and I am the sheep who hears. In fact, He encourages “Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear.” He wants us to listen to Him because what He speaks are words of life. I am the one who must pause and listen to hear what He has to say.

One of the voices that tends to shut out His words of life and peace is the voice of anxiety that tends to bang and clamor louder than Grandpa’s hammer on a busy work day. It not only shouts, but it consistently nags from inside distracting from the joy and peace that Jesus died and rose again to give. The thing about it is it can take willful practice to learn how to tune it out and switch the channel in your mind and heart to listen to the good voice of the Prince of Peace. For me, it takes a daily time sitting in the still of my house before everyone wakes up and my day hums at a volume louder than the constant quiet sounds of the gentle ticking of my wall clock or the air quietly blowing through our heat ducts. I sit in that quiet place and read a scripture and listen. Pretty soon I can focus in on His voice that has always been there. That same beautiful voice has the power to silence the storms inside and outside of me. The Gentle voice of Peace, Love, Joy, and Goodness has never stopped speaking to me. It was that He was only waiting for me to focus in and listen. Like I did many times as I stood in the open door of Grandpa’s shop wondering if what turned into a legend among us grandkids was true. “Does Grandpa’s radio always play?” Yes it does. It is a constant. His radio never was shut off. “Does God have something to say?” Yes He does. He never left me alone. I just need to listen.

The Joneses and Me- A Reflection on Storms

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My husband got laid off the year I was pregnant with our firstborn.  Somehow, we were able to survive on my $4/hour job for 5 months.  It was the 90’s so things weren’t as expensive then, but still it was tight.  I can remember trying to find maternity clothes at the Goodwill and scraping by. My husband looked and looked for a job. We both believed it was God’s will for me to be able to stay home and take care of our baby after he was born.  We knew he needed to find one that made around $10/ hr.  (Our financial goals were survival at the time) The job placement service of his tech school was sending him out for much less.  

In the mean time I kept going to work and one of my coworkers would almost daily come in from the warehouse to the office where I was a secretary.  He would ask me how the job search for my husband was going and then would say, “When is that bum husband of yours going to go and get a job and take care of his pregnant wife?”  I would hop in my car at the end of the day and cry most of the way home.  Several times I would turn on the Christian radio station and hear a song by Big Tent Revival named “Two Sets of Jones”.  It told the story of two couples starting out their lives. One was well to do, but lacked a relationship with Jesus.  The other was more like us, poor monetarily, yet walking with God.  There was the phrase in the song that said, “Ruben and Sue, they had nothing but Jesus and at night they would pray that he would care for them each.” I would hear it and cry out a prayer to God, “God you KNOW we have nothing but Jesus.  Nothing but you.” Long story short, my husband started the job that allowed me to stay home with our son the day after we came home from the hospital, we never missed a bill, and some 25 years later, we walk in tremendous blessing.  

I’ve been contemplating the storms of life the past couple of weeks.  I’ve been thinking about what the Bible has to say about different storms.  There were storms He spoke after, Storms He spoke to, Storms He took naps during, Storms that blew His servant Paul off course and caused him to be shipwrecked on an island.  Then there was the reference Jesus made in His parable to the storms and the houses that they blew on.  One house withstood the storm.  One house did not.  The common denominator in that story was there most certainly was a storm.  Matthew 7:24-27 NIV tells the story.

“Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

The comparison of the houses pointed to the foundation they were built on: One the Rock, one sand.   

I’d like to say that in our 20’s my husband got the job and our storms were over. That one was, but the nature of life on planet earth has provided many other storms for us to weather. I’ve often said that like the disciples on that stormy sea, the best place to be during a storm is in the boat with Jesus.  He alone has the power to calm it. He alone can see you through.  He alone gives purpose in the midst of it, and though it may take time, we always see He was there at work when nothing made sense during the intensity of it. 

I take quite a bit of comfort when I think of Jesus being the Prince of Peace.  The anxiety that roars from time to time is quieted at His word.  HE is the difference I have seen while raising my family, during the joyful times of sunshine or the uncertainty of storms and He is the difference today.

https://youtu.be/KQE5PNRLZ40

2020 God’s Year to Restore see

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I was in high school when God really got ahold of my life, and for a teenager I was pretty radical in trying to communicate it to everyone around me. I was one of those carry my Bible to school teens, and together with a couple of close friends I helped to start and lead a before school prayer group in my high school’s cafeteria. Then came the college years, I got involved in a campus ministry, and I was determined to do everything I could to show my generation the love of God and His power.

God has His ways of tempering a rough around the edges zealot. Lol. It’s called marriage, motherhood, and life. It’s not that I’ve lost my fervor and zeal. It’s just a process of deepening and enriching a relationship. It’s the understanding that comes when your newborn ends up in the NICU because of breathing problems and you feel so alone because your husband can’t wake up due to lack of sleep. So you call out to the only one who never sleeps and who never leaves you. It’s the comfort you receive after the miscarriage of a pregnancy you had been waiting for for a year. It’s the assurance of more to life after suffering two losses of a father in love and a nephew within 15 days of each other. The assurance that a God is there with you when you feel life couldn’t possibly get any harder or feel any worse. That’s the stuff that knocks off the rough edges of pride and self sufficiency in a person.

Sometimes the difficulties may wear the edges down too much, and you forget. That’s where I have found myself at times this year, while walking through some very tough situations with ones I love. I know I’ve got a deep well to draw from in my relationship with the Lord, but retrieving the bucket with the extra long rope can be overwhelming at times.

This morning when I woke up I remembered a time when I was younger that I would ask God to speak something new to me about the New Year. I would anticipate that verse or word to come and really set the tone for what is to come. I felt like God was impressing me to ask. But I, in my worn down fashion, thought… “uh no, well ok. What do you want to say to me God?” Then I opened my email to see this verse on my “Abide” app email.

“The years of the locust…”

Immediately my mind went to a time this year while sitting in the waiting room at a hospital waiting to hear what could be done to help my daughter after her suicide attempt. Satan had done all he could possibly do to try to destroy her. But God was bigger.

Then I thought of the positions I’ve stepped down from this past year. My husband and I have joked about how the song “Nobody” by Casting Crowns was our new theme song. If we ever felt like we were somebody we can be comforted knowing we can be “just a nobody trying to tell everybody about somebody who saved my soul.”

There had been struggles in other areas of our lives as well.

2019 seemed like a year the locust had a feast in our lives in some areas. But the good news is when the locusts have been having a feast, God promises to “restore”- to bring back to its former state, as good as new, or even better.

God is a God of restoration. His power “makes all things new” even the things that look irreparable. Because He is good!

There’s a song out by Bethel called “The Goodness of God”. It has been my theme song as of late. When we can’t see which side is up and our eyes are blind with pain we can be assured that God’s goodness is running after us. And the things that have been broken beyond repair are restored in God’s healing hands.

The locusts May have stripped our hearts bare, but God. He restores, and I am anticipating this year to be the year of restoration because of His goodness. Welcome 2020.

You Stepped In 12/20/2013

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This popped up as one of my memories on Facebook. I wrote it 6 years ago during a time of reflection on the Christmas Season. It’s easy to get caught up in all the ins and out of life’s struggles and forget. Forget the victory over all our struggles (anxiety, fear, etc.) has already been won. It was won so many years ago when our hero the Prince of Peace stepped in:

I really love a hero. Two of my favorite movies are Superman and The Lone Ranger. There is something about a story where everything seems lost and then the hero steps in and saves the day. I was thinking about that this morning. Christmas is all about the Hero of heroes stepping in. He stepped in our world in the most unsuspecting way and pulled off the greatest rescue of all, the rescue of our souls. Habakkuk 3:13-14 “You came out to deliver your people to save your anointed one. You crushed the leader of the land of wickedness you stripped him from head to foot. With his own spear you pierced his head…” What a victory! Brought to us on a night many years ago in the form of a little baby, who was announced by angels and worshiped by Shepherds. That is how our Hero stepped in…

You Stepped In

It seemed Hope was Gone and Darkness reigned,

All was lost in lives of pain.

Hearts were cold and lives undone.

Under oppression from the evil one.

Then You stepped in.

You stepped in one dark night

A hero to rescue us, to shine Your light.

You stepped in the most unlikely place.

You came to us in the most unlikely way.

This Baby born in a place so poor.

A King for all and Deliverer of our souls.

The One who came to set things right.

You stepped in that wonderful night.

We might have missed and not understood.

You lived your life here doing Good.

You healed the sick and showed us what was right.

You gave us all in giving up your life.

All hope seemed lost and darkness reigned,

All was lost in our lives of pain.

Death seemed to have won once again,

But You stepped in.

The Grave cannot hold The King of Kings

He is alive and Now living in me.

My life is changed and I am free.

Because You stepped in and rescued me.

I Am Afraid

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Admitting a feeling is a risky business. Especially when you’ve lived your life with a “don’t ever let them see you sweat” mentality. Today I am going to risk appearing weak, faithless, and vulnerable by admitting I am afraid. I have a situation looming in front of me. It could go one of two ways. When I look at it, I have to admit… I am afraid. It’s ironic to me that David in the Psalms also had something he was afraid of and yet he didn’t try to ignore it. He didn’t try to play out the super spiritual person and not speak of it for fear of confessing bad things. He laid it out squarely before God. He told God what he was afraid of and presented every aspect of his fear to God. Then he told God in spite of what he felt, the fear, he was going to trust God. It’s little wonder to me that the Bible refers to David as a “man after God’s own heart.” God doesn’t expect us to try to hide how we feel. It’s much better to just step on out into the light and admit it’s there and let Him do what only He can do. For me to try to put on the brave face and suck it up is like the equivalent of Adam and Eve in the garden trying to sew some leaves together to hide their nakedness. God already knew what they looked like inside and out. There’s no hiding ourselves from Him.

Yes… I am afraid. But I also know that there is a God who is bigger than my fear. I’m pretty sure that He delights in showing me just how big He is. Opening the door and letting Him see my fear gives Him the opportunity to let His love fill the room in my heart where the fear has been. That love fills, floods, and flushes out the fear that is trying to infect the core of me. “Perfect love casts out all fear.” It’s that small movement of trust that opens the door to let Him in. I feel afraid, here it is. This is what I feel. You see it and I will say that it is there, but I chose to trust You in the face of that fear.

“But in the day that I’m afraid, I lay all my fears before you and trust in you with all my heart.” Psalm 56:3 TPT

Superwoman or Slave- Is there a difference?

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I am superwoman, or at least that’s what I think I am.  I’m pretty sure I’ve lived with a superwoman complex for quite awhile in my life.  If my life looked like someone carrying a load of firewood in their arms, I would be the one with wood stacked up over my face, struggling to hold what I have, yet telling you to go ahead and pile another log on top of my stack.  “No” feels like a dirty word to me as it rolls off my lips. If I’m honest, I’ve lived much of my adult life overloaded.  

A few years ago, I was involved in a Bible study with some ladies. We were encouraged to write down our pressures of our life so we could pray about them.  My list of responsibilities came to twenty-one items. I can remember writing them out and thinking about how I couldn’t fathom letting go of a single one. I was needed by others and I had to serve.  However, this list of responsibilities had consumed my time so much so that my time had to run like a well-oiledmachine, lest one little distraction from it would become a stick in my cog in the wheel and cause my machine to grind to a halt.  The thought of that happening was frightening to me.  I began to realize that something had to give.  I needed to let go of my load one task at a time.  

It’s pretty easy to forget that the life Jesus died to give us is not a life bound up by slavery and taskmasters, being driven from task to task until we fall down exhausted at the end of the day.  Instead He is a shepherd who wants to lead us. Not from task to task, but from field to field of provision given by the gentleness of His hand.  

A few years before the infamous “list of responsibilities” was written, I had a practice that has been neglected as of late.  Every morning I would grab a cup of coffee, go up on my deck, and watch the sun rise.  It was a time of quiet reflection and prayer. I would sit in awe of the artistic beauty God had created as the colors in the sky slowly bounced against the wispy clouds and glistened on the trees and grasses of the fields. It was there that I would take time to write poetry and pray and I felt the closeness of God.  As each taskmaster shouted out at me through the years, my time became less and less on the deck enjoying the gift of the sunrise waiting for God to gently lead me through the day.  I responded to the demands and believed the lie that yelled that everything was all up to me.  Then as I submitted to their demands, my time on the deck slowly dwindled to none.  

Since I wrote that list a few years ago, the unloading began.  It has been a slow process at times, but here lately it has been fast.  Some of the sticks from my load came off with ease. Others were ripped off and pried from my fingers against my desires and with pain.  Yet I sit here now with 2/3 less of a load than I had 3 years ago.  I’m not sure how to feel about these changes. Some of the things I have given up were things I loved to do, but just needed some time to recoup from carrying such a huge load.  

Hosea 2:14- 16 has been rolling around in my thoughts this morning. “Therefore I am now going to allure her; I will lead her into the wilderness and speak tenderly to her. There I will give her back her vineyards and I will make the Valley of Achor (trouble) a door of hope.  There she will respond as in the days of her youth, as in the day she came up out of Egypt.  “in that day,” declares the Lord, “you will call me ‘my husband’’ you will no longer call me ‘my master.’”

The nation of Israel had a hard time transitioning from slavery to being God’s chosen people.  They were so used to being told what to do that freedom to just be loved and taken care of was hard to embrace.  Relating to God as their “master” was easier to picture than their “husband”, one who cared for and loved them.  Their struggle with this left them chasing after the “Baals” or “lords” of idolatry, sacrificing to their dictates in hopes of winning some kind of favor with dead gods that could never fulfill them.

I’m like that at times.  It’s easier to load myself down with a to do list of tasks than to simply be loved by my Creator and enjoy the freedom He died to give me.  The times I’ve missed on my deck watching the sunrise with Him, He’s missed too.  He intended for me to come to Him and to let the burdens go, not pick up a list of tasks that I cannot achieve nor carry. 

Matthew 11:28 “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” That’s Jesus’ words to us all. Words we would all do good to listen to and simply obey. He beckons us to come. All we have to do is respond.

Leave the Heavy Lifting to Him

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Athleticism is not my forte. Especially when it comes to upper body strength. My 15 year old son had been working with a personal trainer to learn the ins and outs of weight lifting. He thought it was hilarious to see his 48 year old mom not only needed a spotter for the Olympic bar, all of the 45 lbs of it, when bench pressing, but could not even do one rep. Being that weak is just something he can’t even fathom. I told him over and over that I couldn’t do it, but he just had to see. I obliged, but I’m not a fan of the feeling of the struggle of a heavy bar on my chest. I had him promise to get me out from underneath it the second I told him I was overwhelmed. Which was within seconds of him helping me get the bar off the stand.

I’ve found myself on a spiritual weight bench lately. Struggling with a bar that I am in no means able to press on my own. For the observers out there it may look silly to see someone who has walked with the Lord as long as I have struggling under the weight of issues that appear to be the size of a bar with no weights. What’s worse is the feeling I get as it lays on my chest. Anxiety has risen its ugly head more than once in the past few weeks. Creating discomfort in the physical that reflects the condition of the mental and spiritual side of me. I’ve sat here this morning contemplating the place I’ve found myself in. I’m sure what I’m trying to lift was never meant for me to press on my own. I need for my “spotter”, the Holy Spirit, to come put His hands on the bar and lift this weight off of my chest. There’s no shame in admitting that I’m unable to lift it alone. The problem comes when I think it is all up to me and refuse to ask for His help and His healing of the things that I cannot fix on my own.

Galatians 5:1 says “It was for freedom that Christ has set us free.” His intention was not for me to prove my value or worth by taking my turn on the weight bench of life pressing the heaviness of the enemies’ lies and attacks.

It’s high time I owned up to the truth like I did with my son. I’m not a weight lifter. So I’m not going to get on that bench any more. Whether it be physically or spiritually. I’m going to leave the lifting to the expert. The one who took care of it all on the cross. When He lifted my freedom up in conquering the weight of my past, my sins, and the things I am too weak to bear.