You People Scare Me.

One time when I was at a national church conference, I went forward for prayer. I wasn’t really sure what I wanted prayer for; I just knew that I felt drained, tired and discouraged. A few people had left our church and were bad mouthing my husband, the pastor, to others still at our church. It was a painful, confusing time and my response had been to withdraw from people and avoid as many church activities as I could. I went to the conference hoping for refreshment and clarity.

The woman who prayed for me was someone I didn’t know, but I recognized. She and her husband pastored a large church and she was a very visible, up front part of their ministry. Our church was small, I was behind the scenes at that time in my life and I didn’t expect to have anything in common with her. I was wrong. One of the first things she prayed was that God would free me from my fear of the people in my church.  I had a spiritual jaw-drop moment when God whispered to me “she’s right, you are terrified of these people who you are trying to lead” I had never realized that the discouragement, fatigue and emptiness I had been feeling was really a gut full of fear. I was afraid of the things people said, I was afraid of them leaving the church and how that would affect me, afraid of what they thought of me or my husband, and afraid of being kicked when I was down. I was afraid of being hurt.

The best part of this realization was that when she finished praying for me, she shared how she struggled with the same fear. She had prayed for my fear to be replaced by peace, my hesitation to be replaced by confidence. We talked for a bit about how overwhelming it could be to feel so vulnerable to the actions of others, to know that their choices could impact you so strongly. I felt a great weight lifting, just knowing that she understood. I left that conference with her words in my mind:

“It’s okay to recognize that people can hurt you, but it’s not okay to live in fear of them”

It had been difficult to be with people, to listen to them, pray with them, to empathize, help or comfort them because I was paralyzed in my own fear. I was crippled in my ability to lead. I can’t say that all fear of people has disappeared, but knowing that others struggle with this and that I was not alone made a powerful impact on me.  Maybe you have experienced this fear too and you can relate to my story. You’re not alone and you probably have a story like this of your own.  I’d love to hear it. You can leave a comment below or send me an email at ellenpjacobs@gmail.com 

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down

But as for me, I will watch expectantly for the LORD; I will wait for the God of my salvation. My God will hear me. Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy. Though I fall I will rise; though I dwell in darkness, the LORD is a light for me. Micah 7:7,8

This is one of my favorite passages, one that I come back to time and again. As a pastor’s wife, I wanted to be perfect, to never make mistakes. When we are in ministry, people are often surprised when we fall. They are disappointed in us and so are we. I needed this reminder that it is part of life to fall, and that God will help me back up. I imagine that in verse 7 I have already fallen…into worry, into criticism, or any of the other common sins I trip over. I am down and can’t see my way up. So I “watch expectantly for the Lord, I wait for the God of my salvation, and I know that my God will hear me.” He heard the “thud” of my fall in the first place.

This is why I love verse 8.  It doesn’t say “if” I fall, it says “though” I fall. I will always fall…that is part of my nature as a human. It is freeing to expect to stumble, instead of being surprised and shocked by it!
God knows our nature and yet He says that we will rise and that He will be our light.

I think of falling down into a dark place where it is hard to see. In my mind’s eye, I see Jesus with a lamp, holding it up and peering into the dark, a look of concern in His eyes. He is looking for me. He holds the lamp up higher to see me and to show me the way.

Lots of my wrongs feel like falling. When we fall, first we slip or stumble a little, then we lose our footing and then there is the actual moment of catching air and crashing to the ground. My mistakes and foibles often take this same form…first I slip a little, then I feel insecure as I sense my loss of balance and then I begin to catch air and “thud”. I have crashed into gossip. Or doubt. Or insecurity.

But that is not the end. That is when we can say with Micah, “Do not rejoice over me, my enemy. Though I fall, I will rise.” We have this promise, that God will hear us, that he will be a light for us. And though it is inevitable that we fall, His light will guide us to rise, to go forward, to try again.

It encourages me when I remember not to be surprised by every tumble I take. God is not surprised. And no matter how many times we trip and fall, He is there to shed light, to help us find a surer path next time.

Are you surprised when you fall? If so, why?

Are you afraid to disappoint people? If so, why?

An Invisible Virtue

When you think about self control, what comes to mind?  I imagine some type of physical self denial, like not eating something or not buying something. It is always something I don’t do, not something I choose to do. I don’t think of self control as a choice that goes on invisibly, in my thoughts and beliefs.

Let me explain. I once heard someone describe self control as an invisible virtue. Intrigued, I spent more time thinking about it and saw the truth in this. There is a lot more to self control than just denying yourself an extra piece of chocolate or a new DVD.

What about the self control of choosing to say something kind when you’d rather respond out of irritation? What about controlling your thoughts when they drift into materialistic desires and wants? We exercise a great deal of self control when we choose to believe the truth about God rather than being swayed by our fears and doubts. These are invisible exchanges that we have in our minds every day. No one sees or hears these decisions we are constantly making. Even we ourselves are frequently inattentive to them. If we don’t learn to make these choices consciously and intentionally, the muscle of self control will atrophy.

In the moments when we choose to believe that God is good, that He is for us, that He is always working on our behalf, we develop self control by what we allow ourselves to think.  This adds muscle to our faith. The same thing happens when we choose what to believe about the people around us. We build a “way of being” that becomes a habit. Disciplines, habits and beliefs come from choosing truth over and over in our daily thoughts. This is the way we build strength to automatically respond kindly when given a choice in how to think about God, how to behave and how to treat others. It is invisible while it is happening. No one sees the choices in your mind. It is between you, your thoughts and God. And, it is the practical application of self control.

I can’t help but think that as we become stronger in controlling our selfish attitudes and behaviors that this invisible virtue will spill out and be seen. Isn’t this how we grow and mature anyway… by hundreds of little choices that we make throughout our lives? It is the invisible choices, and the self control to make them that God uses to form us into His likeness. It is His likeness in our character (or lack thereof) that others experience through us. Our comments, insights, conversations and personality represent us to the world and to those around us.

Peter sums it up through the qualities that he encourages fellow Christians to develop:

“But also for this very reason, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue, to virtue knowledge, to knowledge self-control, to self-control perseverance, to perseverance godliness, to godliness brotherly kindness, and to brotherly kindness love. For if these things are yours and abound, you will be neither barren nor unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ." 1 Peter 1:5-8.

The qualities that Peter describes build upon each other and lead to a deeper knowledge of Jesus. The “very reason” that he refers to is the privilege of growing in the nature of God and in the knowledge of Jesus.  My smallest, most invisible choices are what bring me closer to the grandeur of God.

An Unpleasant Realization

I have been thinking a lot lately about trusting God. I guess when you are in transition or difficulty, it often comes to mind. I realized that for the most part I don’t trust Him. I only trust me. I think that I have a better grasp on my problems than He does, that I know what the best solutions are and that He probably won’t do what I want Him to anyway. These realizations were not pleasant to me.

Perhaps I don’t trust him because I haven’t got enough personal experience to draw from? I know the Bible stories and the accounts of His faithfulness to others, but why can’t I remember much of this when it is my own personal difficulty? I think there are two reasons.

The first is a lack of remembering. I am not alone in this habit. The Israelites were notoriously bad at remembering what God had done for them. They even built altars of rock (at God’s instruction) to help them better remember the great works He had done on their behalf. I am a sloppy rememberer. I know God has done lots of things for me, that He has shown His faithfulness over and over again, but do I have an altar of rocks to remember it by? No, not even a pebble. I used to write down my prayer requests and try to go back and look at them to see what God had done. It was a great exercise, but I still forget to do it.

Perhaps I should take a lesson from the Israelites. I could write things down, plant a tree or even start a rock collection! Maybe I need a “touchstone” to remind me of what I fail to remember on my own.

The other reason I don’t remember to trust God is because I take care of myself, by myself. If I am always fixing my own problems, scrambling to rearrange circumstances and smooth the rough road, I never have to let Him do it. If I never give him a chance to be faithful to me, never get myself in a situation where I am unable to fix it myself, then I have no stories to tell, no miracles to recount. I think this is a bigger problem than my poor memory. I would rather trust myself. Though my solutions are less exciting than God’s, they are more predictable. I am good at scrambling. I can juggle lots of ideas at once and feel more comfortable with all of them, since they come from my own head! No stretching here, thank you.

If I want to build my faith and trust in God, I need to need Him. I must recognize my lack of resources, my inability to fix things and the inferiority of my predictable solutions.  When I allow Him to rescue me from myself, I learn that I can trust Him.