Tag: faithfulness

Posted in Living this Life

That old car

Posted on by Sara

I was just running errands.

I was on my way from Walmart to Taco Bell, to be precise. My Taco Bell lunch order was set, the boys were waiting at home, and I just needed to swing through the drive through, pick up their grilled cheese burritos and be on my way.

But my boys never got their grilled cheese burriots. I never made it to Taco Bell. I ended up screeching over the sidewalk and coming face to face with our Scooter’s sign instead. I didn’t expect my day to go this way when that guy turned into my vehicle as I was just cruising on down main street. I was unhurt – and the Scooter sign was unharmed as well. All in all – it could have been much worse.

But the car … that old car that has carried us more miles than I can count. That old car was not fine. This story isn’t really about someone hitting me while I was on my way to Taco Bell. This story is about that old car.

That 23 year old car with 265,000 miles on it. When we got the call from the insurance company that they were totalling the vehicle, we weren’t surprised.

A couple days later, as we went to clean it out so they could haul it away, I found myself unexpectedly tearful. We grew up in that car – our life as a family was built in that car … and it may just be earth-stuff, but it held alot of memories.

In those heart palpitating moments following the discovery that I was carrying our first child … we realized we needed a “family car”- one that would be safe, dependable, and have room for all the gear that comes with children. A “grown up” car. This was it – and we were elated when we found it.

Each of our 3 children came home from the hospital in this car when they were born. I think of that holy space – filled with such awe, wonder, terror, curiosity, insecurity… and all the times God came through in their lives (and ours).

While cleaning out the car one last time, I found this petrified chicken nugget under a seat and chuckled as I thought of all those drives throughout this country and the rich memories, sibling squabbles, loud music, Veggietale videos, and answered prayers that we experienced while fueled by chicken nuggets and coffee.

There’s the armrest my restless son peeled away on one of those drives that would never end..

There’s our 2015 parking pass for our favorite amusement park – a place that has been a thread of continuity in our lives since before we were married..

There’s the spot under our car that got ripped up by a stray “rez dog” when we lived in Arizona – his nick name “Butcher the meat eater” fit him well, and one day he decided to see what “meat” he could find tucked in that space under our car. (it may have had something to do with a bird we hit earlier that day … I can’t blame him that much, after all)

Then I see this – the sticker that has marked our family for decades: “As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord”… and I marvel at the over-arching banner of the goodness of God.

Because the whole time I’m going through this beautiful old car, the song on repeat in my head declares this truth: “all my life you have been faithful. All my life you have been so, so good. With every breath that I am able, I will sing of the goodness of God”.

Let’s be honest – not everything feels good. In the midst of all the beautiful memories also came the flood of those tearful, fearful moments. There was the drive home from the doctor’s visit where we were told that our baby (in utero) had “anomolies” and they didn’t have answers for his future (or ours).

There was the day after he was born when we were told he would need surgery at 3 days old – and we had decisons to make that we didn’t know how to make. We retreated to the only safe and familiar space we knew – this car – and we sat and cried out to God for help.

There was the late night race to the hospital while holding my son years later while he was in respiratory distress and having a seizure… crying out again to God for his life.

There were long drives in painful silence – so filled with anxiety and confusion and discouragement that we didn’t even know how to talk to each other. Looking back, I see how God was there in the middle, holding each of us together – even when we couldn’t see it at the time.

As I write the words, the memories keep flooding, piling up on each other like a torrent. I won’t take you down every trail with me, as I think we all have more to do with our day than just camp in my memories. But my eyes fill with tears as I sit here in wonder.

Yesterday I read these words in God’s Book:

“In a desert land He found him,
    in a barren and howling waste.
He shielded him and cared for him;
    He guarded him as the apple of His eye,
like an eagle that stirs up its nest
    and hovers over its young,
that spreads its wings to catch them
    and carries them aloft.
The Lord alone led him…” Deuteronomy 32:10-12

I was sad to say goodbye to this old car – but more than that, I was overwhelmed by the story it told.

It is a story of God’s faithfulness in the joyful, victorious times, and in the darkest and discouraging days. As I walked through the memories and all the changing seasons of our life as a family, I found myself in that moment seeing and savoring the truth that our God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. (Hebrews 13:8)

It’s just an old car. It may just be earth-stuff. But it held alot of memories. And those memories matter. They are our “stones of remembrance” on which God writes His story in our lives. In his final address to the people of Israel, Moses entreats them to “be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.” (Deuteronmy 4:9)

Maybe today is the day to walk down memory lane a bit. Rejoice and laugh over the beautiful, the silly, the unexpected … and even in the sorrows and the tears, remember how your God has walked with you. How He has found you in the wilderness, and guarded you as the apple of His eye.

And I return to the song as I head into the rest of this day: “All my life you have been faithful. All my life you have been so, so good. With every breath that I am able – I will sing of the goodness of God”

Posted in Living this Life

Fortress of cards

Posted on by Sara

There is a turn on a long and lonely road that is imprinted on my soul.

It is exactly at the midway point of somewhere  and the middle of nowhere  – 48 miles from the middle of nowhere, to be precise.

This is the spot where I once heard God speak – perhaps the clearest in all my life.

I found myself on that road again recently, and as my eyes took in the vast miles of barenness, my heart remembered.

It was the most loudly whispered “no” I have ever heard. A “no” that still reverberates in my soul and echoes before me.

Let me back up. It had been a long, hard few years. My soul was as barren as the land it was planted in, and I didn’t know what had gone wrong. I mean, I could describe to you the litany of things that had been hard, but what had gone so wrong in my soul that had left me this dry and parched? What darkness had robbed my joy, and how had it gotten in? I needed to know…

After those long, hard few years, God uprooted me and me family, and our feet took us to a land of rolling hills and green. As we made our home in this new space, my soul began to heal. I found rest – I found myself again. The layers of pain and hard began to peel away and I began to feel alive again.

But I couldn’t shake the question that had been planted in my soul all those years: “what darkness had robbed my joy, and how had it gotten in?” I felt if I could only find the answer to that question, it would be the final key to my healing. The naked truth is – I wanted the control of knowing I could keep it from coming back. If I could only figure out what had gone wrong, I could formulate a life where the darkness could no longer get in, with walls of my own self-will keeping it out.

No matter how peaceful and beautiful life was, there was a constant nagging – like an itch in the back of my soul – that I wasn’t really safe until I knew the answer to that question. What if that darkness crept back in? How would I keep it out? I was desperate to protect myself.

Then that day arrived. The day I was to return to the place where my spirit had been held captive. It was just a visit – and yet the fear was overwhelming. Because God hadn’t answered my cry yet. And I didn’t feel like I could go back to that place – to walk those painful memories – without knowing the key to protecting my vulnerable heart.

The car slowed as it arrived at the town that was the midway point – and then we turned left. I stared out the window – at the flat, barren, red richness of that beautiful land, and my heart screamed at Him in silent desperation: “I need to know NOW! We are out of time. I can’t go back there without an answer…” And that is when He finally spoke.

It was a simple “NO”.

It was a “No” that set me free.

It was as clear to me as if Jesus was sitting next to me in that car. His next words that echoed loudly in my mind were this: “You don’t need to know why. What you need to know is: I was with you”. And that is all He spoke, on that day while we drove on that long and dusty road. Because that is all I needed to hear.

It was a “No” that set me free.

It was in that moment I saw the chains of control that had formed around my heart. He shone His light on the illusion that we can really protect ourselves, and showed me where true safety lies. True peace. True light. I had built a fortress of cards around my heart, thinking it would withstand the hurricane of life – and He needed me to know that the only safe harbor is Him. That in my darkest place, when I forgot who I was, HE never forgot. He never abandoned me. He didn’t expect me get it together and come back to Him when I was fixed … He was with me in it all. “Your walls are ever before me” (Isaiah 49:16) “ See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands” (Isaiah 49:16)

Let me be clear. It is one thing to acknowledge that our peace, our joy, or safety doesn’t come from our physical circumstances. But there is another distinction that must be made, and it is this: We say we trust Jesus – but what we mean is that we trust what Jesus will do for us. We ask Him for help – we say we trust Him to provide. But what if His provision is simply His presence?

Let’s back up a few thousand years – to an old man in a desert, arguing with the God of the Universe over the disobedience of a throng of people that God  has relentlessly saved. God has finally decided to send them on their way without Him; nonetheless, He wouldn’t abandon them alone in the desert. He promised to provide for them, to send an angel to walk with them and protect them … aren’t these the very things, the provision and safety, that our needy hearts yearn for?  And yet Moses knew so much more than we do, and he pleaded with God, “If Your Presence does not go with us, do not send us up from here…” (Ex 33:15)

Let’s race forward 400 years, to David, the man after God’s own heart. The man who knew from experience that even in “the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Ps 23) He had lived in fields with the sheep and in the palace of the king and his summary of it all that was, “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my life and my portion forever” (Ps 73:26) 

His presence – our portion.  My friend, there are so many more I could tell you about, but the most important words rest in the very promises of God Himself. Read these – just a few of the innumerable verses that help us remember … and let them envelop you in a cloud of promise and strength. Whatever deep need you are facing, there is an answer, and the greatest answer He can give us is His presence. Rest in His embrace. Let Him be your portion and let your heart be free to rest in the only true safety we will ever find.

 “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (Ps 46:1)

“He will hide me in His shelter on the day of trouble” (Ps 27:5) “

“I will be a hiding place for you,” says the Lord, “a fortress in the day of trouble.” (Jer 17:17)

“For you, O Lord, are a refuge for the oppressed, a refuge in times of distress” (Ps 9:9)

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation. He is my stronghold, my refuge, and my Savior” (2 Sam 22:2-3)

 “As for God, his way is perfect: The Lord’s word is flawless; He shields all who take refuge in Him. For who is God besides the Lord? And who is the Rock except our God? It is God who arms me with strength and keeps my way secure.” (2 Sam 22:31-33)

“In peace I will lie down and sleep, for you alone, Lord, make me dwell in safety” (Ps 4:8)  

“I keep my eyes always on the Lord. With him at my right hand, I will not be shaken. Therefore my heart is glad and my tongue rejoices; my body also will rest secure” (Ps 16:8-9)

So …what about that day last month when we took that left turn? My heart trembled once again – but this time in eagerness and joy. I longed to touch that red soil one more time and remember – like the Israelites of old who set monuments in places where they had encountered God. In the shadow of my hard memories, the faithfulness of God shines like a beacon. My heart remembers – and I am glad.

Posted in Living this Life

what’s hiding in the back of your cupboards?

Posted on by Sara

When I was in college, I worked at a thrift store in the afternoons for a little bit of spending money – and I never knew what I was going to bring home with me most days. This little sandwich griller found it’s way into my apartment 25 years ago from that thrift store … and my college roommates and I still laugh at all the “creations” I would make for us with this.

It followed me to Mn, AZ, and now continues to live in the back of my kitchen cupboard in Arkansas. I often forget about it, and only use it about twice a year because let’s be real, I can’t handle the stress of wondering when it’s going to blow up on me any more often than that. Today my son asked for a sandwich on it – and as I remembered using this all those years ago in my little college apartment, I thought of all the friendships and laughter that have been a part of my life – along with this this ancient little griller.

Sometimes we need to lift our eyes beyond today and the swirling anxiety that can fog our vision and trace the faithful hand of God in all the little places… those “insignificant” days that lay out in a long strand of pearls – a gift from our Creator.

“Listen to me, you descendants of Jacob, all the remnant of the people of Israel, you whom I have upheld since your birth, and have carried since you were born. Even to your old age and gray hairs I am He; I am He who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.” Isaiah 46:3-4