God Shouts

"God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world." C.S. Lewis

Though I don't ask for pain, it awakens my senses like nothing else can.  I have known this before.  Now I live it again.     

I see the spoon God offers me.  I put it to my lips reluctantly and wonder, "Can I really swallow this strong tonic?  Or will it kill me?"  I don't know if I can withstand this pain. 

I am weak and too often buried under my circumstances.  I have swam in the torrent of my own tears.  I've been captive of fear, prisoner of panic, slave of self-pity.    

"Lord, I believe!  Help Thou my unbelief!  Though you slay me, I will trust in You."  Tentative, I open my mouth to take it all in.  My unbelief lingers.  I expect to sputter out a "Marah".  

But instead I taste honey.  And it is good.  Not because it cures me.  Not because I suddenly feel no pain.  It is good  because it is wakes me up to God near, nearer than ever before.  He's everywhere.  His goodness, His mercy, His grace, His love, His comfort.

Do you think God is shouting?  Or am I just FINALLY listening? 

Continuing the count:

997. MS
1026. Jesus!  Hope!
1064. Driftwood cross
1099. All for His glory
1100. All for my good
1111.  Budding trees
1116. Laughing until you cry - twice in one day!
1129.  Heart groaning
1130. Redemption coming
1165.  God's friend
1174.  Gentle breezes
1206. Birdsong
1212. God shouting



God Is Good (Diagnosis:MS)

Easter 2011

Hi!  It's been so long since I've posted, you might not even know that I had been sick and we returned to the US at the end of March for some medical testing.

Last Friday my neurologist called to inform us that I have multiple sclerosis (MS). At this point, the disease does not appear to have done much damage, thankfully, and I feel well. We are still very much hoping to return to Paraguay, though we do need to remain in the US for now since I need to have some follow up testing in 6-9 months.

We would greatly appreciate your prayers as we process this information, work to educate ourselves about MS, and explore my options for treatment and prevention of future damage. There is currently no cure for MS, but it is very treatable and we have hope that I will be able to function well and manage the symptoms successfully for many years to come.

Now, if that was all that needed said, you would have seen this post three days ago when I started it.  However, I knew you would be concerned about how we are doing emotionally having received this news. And that's the part that's a bit more difficult to put into words. I would say we are grieving hopefully. Grieving because we are human and we fear the potential implications of having a debilitating disease. And hopeful because we wholeheartedly trust our Creator and Sustainer to be near and give us victory in this situation! Remember how the apostle Paul described it? "We are troubled, yet not distressed; we are perplexed but not in despair...Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed day by day."

Our heart's desire is to actively proclaim God's goodness, even in this. Maybe especially in this. He is good, only does good and works out all things for our good. MS=good? Crazy! It's a debilitating disease! But if a debilitating disease causes us to know Him more fully, it is. If it causes us to live more purposefully, more passionately, it is. If it brings Him honor in some way that we still can't foresee, it is. May you also taste and see His goodness today, no matter what you are facing in your own life!

Love,

Shilo

P.S. If you have a few minutes, I encourage you to read John Piper's excellent article "Don't Waste Your Cancer".  Obviously I don't have cancer, but I think the truths are transferable and it encouraged me!

Tasting Goodness

“Taste and see that the Lord is good.  Oh, the joys of those who trust in Him!” Psalm 34:8

True Beauty Does

Double beep marks the arrival of his message and heart warms fast with love as I read.   

“When I saw you in the rear view mirror…

I was reminded again of how beautiful you are.” 

Smile broadens and head tips back with a laugh.  I’m so blessed by his thoughtful love. 

Fingers quick, tap out reply. 

“Thanks, honey!  Now if only beauty would calm a grouchy baby!”

It’s been a rough day, this.  Nothing seems to soothe the little one. 

I’ve barely pressed send when another message arrives.  This time, it’s not words on screen but voice in heart.   

“Oh, Shilo…but it does!  True beauty does.”

I know this voice and I know it can only speak truth.  My brain strains to understand what He means; to remember how He defines true beauty.  Desperate to comprehend, I go to the Words of Life.

“That is the way the holy women made themselves beautiful.  They trusted God.”  I Peter 3:5 NLT

True beauty is trusting God.  This is His message to me.  It’s powerful in it’s simplicity.   

Piercing conviction and wild hope converge in my heart and words spill out,

“Father, forgive me for not looking to You for wisdom about how to comfort and console my little one today!  I depended on my own intuition and it failed me miserably. 

I believe you spoke to me for a reason!  You want to show me how being truly beautiful…how trusting You makes a difference in all the little situations in my day!  I do trust you.  I wait for your wisdom.”

Heart quiet, I hear His voice again.

“Sit down and play with the child, Shilo.  Just play with him.” 

Tears spill.  I gather toys.  We sit.  Play.  He calms.  Smiles.  Laughs for the first time all day. 

I’m humbled, amazed, and thankful.  And I’m believing with all my heart the message He spoke to me today.  True beauty does, because true beauty is born out of the fierce belief that the all wise, loving God of the universe has the power to change every situation in my life! 

Immanuel, God With Us

Learning God’s character, as displayed through His names, was something that revolutionized the way I live my life.  Every need I have finds it’s ultimate fulfillment in Him.   I cling to Him as my Home when I am lonely and longing for stability.  I look to Him as Counselor when I am needing wisdom as a parent.  And I recently cried out to Him as Jehovah Rapha when I went blind in my left eye (in His great grace He has restored my vision almost back to normal). 

This Christmas, more than any other, the name IMMANUEL (God with us) has been so precious to me.  It’s no surprise, really, when I have just been touched by Him in such a powerful way.  I speak not merely of His work as Healer, but also as the One who accompanied me through each test, IV treatment, each moment of waiting.  The One who carried me through each disorienting hour, each sleepless night.  He was WITH me in a way I have never experienced before, and now I have the joy of knowing Him more deeply.  The very One who came as a babe, to die for me, is WITH me.  My Savior.  My Immanuel. 

May He be WITH you today in a special way as well!  Merry Christmas! 

photo: Google images

Side Effects and Lies

It was Monday night.  Willing myself to sleep, I was quietly praying until that moment of surrender would come.  It’s been so elusive and hard gained lately, just one of the side effects of my medication.

My prayers stilled though as He began to speak.  “Child, you’ve been believing me strong and powerful enough to completely heal your eye.  Why won’t you trust me to help you cope with the side effects of your medication?  Have you forgotten how much I care about ALL the details of your life?  Did you not think my Spirit’s power sufficient to give you strength to cope in a godly manner?”

Humbled and a bit stunned I say, “No, God.  No.  You’re right.  I haven’t been believing you for that.”

The realization is sickening.  I’ve been trying to deal with it all on my own.  The heart pounding anxiety that creeps up, the lack of patience I feel when I’m surrounded by chaos and most of all the harsh tone my words take on as they fly from my mouth in an effort to make it all stop. 

It dawns on me that deep down a lie is lurking.  I’ve been believing that God is not enough, that He doesn’t really care about something as pesky as side effects.  The fact that I didn’t even think to ask Him to empower my mind and my will to overcome the negative effects of my medication shows me one thing.  At the core of my belief system, I am lacking faith in His character as the God who is passionately interested in renewing every detail of my life.   

Though tempted to feel shame, I at once feel delight and freedom.  For a betraying lie once captured and identified can be imprisoned and put to death.  And as the traitorous soldier is carried away, I find there is room for truth to enter in and dwell. 

I’m so thankful that His Spirit is faithful to reveal to us the darkness in our own hearts, the lies lurking there that we have yet to confront.  And I praise Him that He really is enough, that His power is unending, that His character is sure, that His works are perfect and His words are right. 

Whatever you are facing today, I pray that you will look to the truth of God’s character and be changed at the core of your being as you cry out together with me, “Lord, I believe!  Help Thou mine unbelief!

“Lord, you have brought light into my life: my God you light up my darkness.”  

photo: egahen

A Father’s Presence Changes the Storm

I’ve never been afraid of storms.  In fact, I rather love them.  Some of my favorite memories with my father include sitting out on the porch together during a good storm: watching, listening, being awed by a powerful lightening strike and feeling thunder reverberate through my body.  I love storms because my father loves storms. 

 

Last night, I had the joy of storm watching with my Darling Little Redhead.  We laid on our tummies and watched from the bedroom window.  He talked and giggled and gasped occasionally.  And I smiled repeatedly, because he wasn’t afraid.  On the contrary, he was actually delighting in the storm and in being together through it. 

The thunder is still rolling now twelve hours later.  All through the night she woke me with her groans.  Sometimes near, sometimes far, but consistently reaching my heart with her message.  “I am not to be feared!  I only exist to give you a chance to sit next to Your Creator God, where He can guard your heart with peace, in the midst of me.”   

Are you going through a storm of your own today?  Is fear gripping you?  Keeping you inside your cozy home, cringing at the sound of thunder, frozen so you don’t move?  My friend, step out onto the porch with our loving Father!  Behold the power of the One who made the storm.  There is such joy in riding it out at His side, holding His hand, looking into His heart and knowing NOTHING can touch you that He doesn’t allow .

“Who is this man, that even the wind and the waves obey him?”  Luke 8:24 

photo: nespresso

P.S. With everything going on, I forgot to announce that my friend Alisha in Argentina won the My Two Favorite Things Giveaway!  Congrats, Alisha!  

He’s My Home

We had just moved again. Tearfully saying goodbye to a beautiful season of ministry, I was propelled into another unwelcomed one. For the first time in my life, I was somewhere I didn’t want to be. I was hanging onto my calling to missions, but only loosely. My hand limp, I cried weakly, “God, I can’t do this. It’s too much, this missionary life; this inevitable, unstoppable series of moves from one place to another.”

In the darkest and loneliest season of my life, I wanted only one thing. I wanted to go home. Except we couldn’t. So my cries of inadequacy were quieted only when I sat down with my Bible. One day in that fleeting quietness, I reached Psalm 90: 1, “Lord, through all the generations you have been our home!” Tears streaming down my face, dotting the page, I could not move my eyes from that word. Home. It wasn’t a place 3,000 miles away, it was a person. It was Him.

Slowly over the course of the next few days, I was able to identify what home meant to me, release it and delight in the perfection of my new Home.

I started out by declaring that I wanted to live in the same house on the same street for the rest of my life. No more moves. No more suitcases. 

He gently corrected me.  What I really wanted wasn’t a white house on Main Street, but Him. “Child, the stability you crave is only found in me! I am the eternal, incorruptible Lord. I do not change! I’m the same yesterday, today and forever. I am your home.”

Then I explained that I wanted to be one of the belongers, to have my name written in the collective story, the shared history of a people. No more wondering how I fit. No more being an outsider.

He spoke back, “Have you forgotten? You are already one of the belongers. I chose you before the foundation of the earth. I wrote your name in the epic of the redeemed with My own Son’s blood. You’re not an outsider! You’re accepted in the Beloved and seated at My right hand forever. I am your home.”

Finally, I confessed my longing for deep, meaningful relationships. Friendships that would allow me to barge through the front door with barely a knock, plop down on the couch and tell my truth without fear. Ties unthreatened by the brokenness of my humanity, ties unadulterated by judgment. No more being weighed in the balance. No more exhausting guardedness.

This time He whispered. “Child,” he said, “this freedom to barge into an earthly den and be met with open arms? It’s only a shadow. I am the fulfillment, the One casting that shadow. You have free access to Me through the Spirit! I welcome you to pour out your heart boldly and frankly, though you are broken and naked and lacking. There is no condemnation for you at this throne. Only grace. I am your home.”

It’s been seven years (and as many moves) since the light of Home shined hope into that dark season of my life. Still, I have much to learn about this exchange of temporal for eternal, of seen for unseen, of the shadow for the fulfillment. How thankful I am that the Spirit faithfully directs me Home to the One who satisfies my every longing.

“That something we long for, whether it be an island in the west or the other side of a mountain or perhaps a schooner yacht, long for it in the belief that it will mean joy, which it never fully does, because what we are really longing for is God.” --Sheldon VanAuken, A Severe Mercy

"I Could Never...

...do what you do," she says. It is not the first time I have heard this.  In fact, almost everywhere we go, a well-meaning woman will share with me her doubts that she could ever be a missionary. 


The truth is, sometimes I feel like telling her, "I can't do it either!"  It breaks my heart to be away from my family and friends.  It actually physically hurts when I say goodbye...again.  It is exhausting to pack up and
move so regularly. 


You see, I am the kind of girl who would love to live in the same house in some quiet town for the rest of my life, preferably just down the street from my parents.  I do not need adventure.  I crave routine and stability.  I long for a place where I am known and loved for me, where old ladies squeeze my cheek and tell me how much I look like my mother did at my age. 


If I focus on those things, I become so weak that I am frozen in a pond of pity just waiting for the enemy to come fish me out and eat me for dinner.  However, if I focus on Truth, I never give up-because I do not have to do it. He will do it in me. 


Usually when I hear that familiar phrase, "I could never. . . " I just respond, "Yes, at times it can be challenging, but God's grace is always enough for us."  I really mean that.  He really has always met us in
our moments of grief with a breath of comfort, in our hour of exhaustion with an infusion of strength.  When we are weak, He is shown strong.  Everyone can see that our glorious power is from God and is not our own, that our only power and success come from Him. 


I think that next time, though, I am going to change my byline.  I will smile and say, "You are right. You couldn't do it, and neither can I.  That is the whole point.  He wants to do it through me and through you, so that we can be mirrors that brightly reflect His glory.

Not that we are competent in ourselves to claim anything for ourselves, but our competence comes from God. . . And we, who with unveiled faces all reflect the Lord's glory, are being transformed into His likeness with ever-increasing glory, which comes from the Lord, Who is the Spirit. . . But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. . . That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. II Corinthians 3:5, 18; 4:7; 12:10

What God is Made of

They say that hard times show you what you're really made of. I think they're right.

They reveal that I am unqualified to handle the problems of life on my own. That I lack understanding. That I am weak and tired. That I desperately need the God of the universe to reach down, take my hand and lead me. Hard times prove that I am merely dust.

I'm ok with that. Because out of these excrutiating moments is born the rememberance that my God is with me. He's perfectly sufficient. He's infinitely wise. He willingly infuses my life with His power. That in my weakness, He is shown strong.

Maybe they would do better to say that hard times show you what your God is really made of.

photo: Migrant Mother, Dorothea Lange, LIFE