Emily Conrad's Blog, page 7
October 5, 2017
Raking Up Fallen Attitudes
by Emily Conrad
The old maple in our front yard puts on quite a show in fall, but it does so early. While other trees remain green, ours has been dropping orange and red and yellow leaves since August.
My sister complimented us on having done some raking when she spotted the leaves neatly piled on the terrace along the road in front of our house. Unfortunately, the city was less impressed.
The garbage collectors put a notice on our trash can informing us leaf collection doesn’t start until October 17th, and in the meantime, our leaves can’t hang out on the curb. Except the notice didn’t call it that. The notice called the curb the City Right-of-Way (ROW).
On reading the notice, my first instinct was to go out and scatter the leaves all over the yard again because we wouldn’t have gotten a notice if we hadn’t taken the initiative to clean up our yard.
My second instinct was to post a snarky comment on Facebook like the mature adult I am. I’m defensive about maple leaves, which I realize is silly, but even as I type that, I’m thinking, to be fair, the city started it…
These instincts of mine are hypocritical for a whole slew of reasons. Toward the top of the list: I don’t particularly like reading complaints on Facebook, and as a Christian writer, I’m publicly claiming to follow Jesus, and what did Jesus teach?
To give to Caesar what is Caesar’s. To give to the city what is the city’s.
The city spelled out in the notice that leaves can clog sewers and contribute to algae blooms, so they have their reasons for not wanting the leaves on the curb early.
Regardless of whether I agree with their reasons, the leaves were on the City’s ROW, and my attitudes fall on Christ’s ROW. Both need to be cleaned up.
I'm extra-convicted about this when I look up that give-to-Caesar verse, which actually goes like this:
He said to them, “Then give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” (Matthew 22:21, NET)
I went out and moved the leaves off the curb.
But how to rake up that attitude of offense?
2 Timothy 3:16-17 says, Every scripture is inspired by God and useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the person dedicated to God may be capable and equipped for every good work. (NET)
Scripture makes the best rake when it comes to fallen attitudes. Knowing I’m to obey authority doesn’t really help change my attitude as I obey, though. To change that, I need to focus my thoughts in the right place, and whenever it comes to redirecting my thoughts, this is my go-to verse
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things. Philippians 3:8, NET
What is lovely in the case of the leaves? Why, the leaves themselves are, of course—that’s how I've decorated this whole post!
What if, instead of begrudging the city’s process for leaf collection, I focused my energy on enjoying our beautiful tree? Hey, if the cost of having this tree shade our house all summer long, if the cost of having this beautiful thing turn orange and red and gold, is timing my cleanup efforts, that’s a small price to pay.
Furthermore, if the convenience of having a truck come around and vacuum up my leaves every fall comes with the qualification that I must wait on the truck’s schedule, so be it. At least I don’t have to put up with the smell of burning leaves or the hassle of carting them off to some dump site.
And really, if leaves are the worst I have to complain about, I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. The fact that I own a house. That my husband and I are well enough to keep up the yard. That I have sight to see the fall color. That I live in a state with four beautifully distinct seasons.
Yes, it takes some raking sometimes to turn my attitude from frivolous offense to gratitude, but I’m a happier person this way than when I dwell defensively on a silly matter. I think my Facebook friends are happier with me this way, too.
Always rejoice, constantly pray, in everything give thanks. For this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NET
A go-to #bibleverse for raking up fallen attitudes #choosejoy and #gratitude via @emilyrconrad
The old maple in our front yard puts on quite a show in fall, but it does so early. While other trees remain green, ours has been dropping orange and red and yellow leaves since August.
My sister complimented us on having done some raking when she spotted the leaves neatly piled on the terrace along the road in front of our house. Unfortunately, the city was less impressed.
The garbage collectors put a notice on our trash can informing us leaf collection doesn’t start until October 17th, and in the meantime, our leaves can’t hang out on the curb. Except the notice didn’t call it that. The notice called the curb the City Right-of-Way (ROW).
On reading the notice, my first instinct was to go out and scatter the leaves all over the yard again because we wouldn’t have gotten a notice if we hadn’t taken the initiative to clean up our yard.
My second instinct was to post a snarky comment on Facebook like the mature adult I am. I’m defensive about maple leaves, which I realize is silly, but even as I type that, I’m thinking, to be fair, the city started it…
These instincts of mine are hypocritical for a whole slew of reasons. Toward the top of the list: I don’t particularly like reading complaints on Facebook, and as a Christian writer, I’m publicly claiming to follow Jesus, and what did Jesus teach?
To give to Caesar what is Caesar’s. To give to the city what is the city’s.
The city spelled out in the notice that leaves can clog sewers and contribute to algae blooms, so they have their reasons for not wanting the leaves on the curb early.
Regardless of whether I agree with their reasons, the leaves were on the City’s ROW, and my attitudes fall on Christ’s ROW. Both need to be cleaned up.
I'm extra-convicted about this when I look up that give-to-Caesar verse, which actually goes like this:
He said to them, “Then give to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” (Matthew 22:21, NET)
I went out and moved the leaves off the curb.
But how to rake up that attitude of offense?
2 Timothy 3:16-17 says, Every scripture is inspired by God and useful for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the person dedicated to God may be capable and equipped for every good work. (NET)
Scripture makes the best rake when it comes to fallen attitudes. Knowing I’m to obey authority doesn’t really help change my attitude as I obey, though. To change that, I need to focus my thoughts in the right place, and whenever it comes to redirecting my thoughts, this is my go-to verse
Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is worthy of respect, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if something is excellent or praiseworthy, think about these things. Philippians 3:8, NET
What is lovely in the case of the leaves? Why, the leaves themselves are, of course—that’s how I've decorated this whole post!
What if, instead of begrudging the city’s process for leaf collection, I focused my energy on enjoying our beautiful tree? Hey, if the cost of having this tree shade our house all summer long, if the cost of having this beautiful thing turn orange and red and gold, is timing my cleanup efforts, that’s a small price to pay.
Furthermore, if the convenience of having a truck come around and vacuum up my leaves every fall comes with the qualification that I must wait on the truck’s schedule, so be it. At least I don’t have to put up with the smell of burning leaves or the hassle of carting them off to some dump site.
And really, if leaves are the worst I have to complain about, I’ve got a lot to be thankful for. The fact that I own a house. That my husband and I are well enough to keep up the yard. That I have sight to see the fall color. That I live in a state with four beautifully distinct seasons.
Yes, it takes some raking sometimes to turn my attitude from frivolous offense to gratitude, but I’m a happier person this way than when I dwell defensively on a silly matter. I think my Facebook friends are happier with me this way, too.
Always rejoice, constantly pray, in everything give thanks. For this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 NET
A go-to #bibleverse for raking up fallen attitudes #choosejoy and #gratitude via @emilyrconrad
October 3, 2017
He's Got My "Not Enough" Covered
by Emily Conrad
Atonement is the word of the day on September 30th, not by my choice, but because that’s the word Dictionary.com chose to email to its word of the day subscribers. I’d signed up only a couple of days before.
When I see atonement in my inbox and leave it, a pin in a thought that’s bowled me over and demands closer examination.
It all started the day before with a simple assignment from Christina Hubbard of the blog Creative and Free. In October, writers celebrate 31 days of writing, and for her part, Christina went out and invited 31 creatives to join her on her blog with the mission of encouraging other creatives. She offered some prompts, the first of which was to share insight to bolster and heal when we feel like we aren’t enough.
On September 29th, when I sat at my laptop to put together my 3-4 sentence response, I was emotionally pretty normal-okay. I put my fingers to the keys without thinking too hard and let two sentences rise:
There are days when I am certain the words I write reek of my imperfections. I look at them and wonder how God could ever use such a tainted offering.
And just like that, I had myself in tears.
This is not normal for me. I've heard other novelists cry when they write sad scenes, but I'm don't think I ever have. In my non-fiction, should I write something about myself, something so true it prompts tears, it's usually in my journal, and not for a blog. But this assignment was specifically for sharing, and hey, the assignment said to be vulnerable.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized my fear of not being enough went so deep. I decided I had to stop to investigate, I had to finish the assignment. Maybe I wouldn't be ready to share the result, maybe I'd have to start over, but I had to watch it play out on the page. So, I continued.
Read more »
Atonement is the word of the day on September 30th, not by my choice, but because that’s the word Dictionary.com chose to email to its word of the day subscribers. I’d signed up only a couple of days before.
When I see atonement in my inbox and leave it, a pin in a thought that’s bowled me over and demands closer examination.
It all started the day before with a simple assignment from Christina Hubbard of the blog Creative and Free. In October, writers celebrate 31 days of writing, and for her part, Christina went out and invited 31 creatives to join her on her blog with the mission of encouraging other creatives. She offered some prompts, the first of which was to share insight to bolster and heal when we feel like we aren’t enough.
On September 29th, when I sat at my laptop to put together my 3-4 sentence response, I was emotionally pretty normal-okay. I put my fingers to the keys without thinking too hard and let two sentences rise:
There are days when I am certain the words I write reek of my imperfections. I look at them and wonder how God could ever use such a tainted offering.
And just like that, I had myself in tears.
This is not normal for me. I've heard other novelists cry when they write sad scenes, but I'm don't think I ever have. In my non-fiction, should I write something about myself, something so true it prompts tears, it's usually in my journal, and not for a blog. But this assignment was specifically for sharing, and hey, the assignment said to be vulnerable.
Until that moment, I hadn’t realized my fear of not being enough went so deep. I decided I had to stop to investigate, I had to finish the assignment. Maybe I wouldn't be ready to share the result, maybe I'd have to start over, but I had to watch it play out on the page. So, I continued.
Read more »
September 28, 2017
30 Reminders for the Next Time You Face Rejection
by Emily Conrad
As a writer and as a human, I'm familiar with rejection. You, too?
Yeah, I thought so.
Rejection burns and disorients. Or, at least, that's what it's done to me. I'm slowly learning to handle it better and to keep it in healthier perspective.
Are my responses to rejection perfect these days? Um, nope. But what follows are 30 things I aim to keep in mind next time rejection looms larger than life.
Jesus loves you.No one has the right to disparage your worth.Reflection and self-examination lead to growth.Shame and despair are cries for healing in Jesus.Read more »
As a writer and as a human, I'm familiar with rejection. You, too?
Yeah, I thought so.
Rejection burns and disorients. Or, at least, that's what it's done to me. I'm slowly learning to handle it better and to keep it in healthier perspective.
Are my responses to rejection perfect these days? Um, nope. But what follows are 30 things I aim to keep in mind next time rejection looms larger than life.
Jesus loves you.No one has the right to disparage your worth.Reflection and self-examination lead to growth.Shame and despair are cries for healing in Jesus.Read more »
September 26, 2017
Life Lessons from a Sleep Mask: What's Influencing You?
by Emily Conrad
Having a bedroom with 3 skylights has turned me into a bit of a sleep mask snob.
I have a favorite with a pretty satin floral pattern on one side, velvet on the face-side, and real lavender inside. The mask is getting older, and, unfortunately, my hound also likes the smell of lavender... I caught him chewing on my precious mask. He didn't damage the fabric exactly, but he soaked it with slobber.
I thought better of subjecting something with real lavender inside to the wash, so I cleaned the mask in the sink and dried it out again, but getting it wet (or maybe it was the slobber) turned the satin yellowish. And I’m still leery of the idea of residual slobber. I love my dogs, but there are limits.
Cue a hunt for a new favorite sleep mask.
The packaging of the one I found promised the mask inside was lavender scented. It smelled okay in the store, but when I got it home, the fragrance was fake and powdery instead of the soft zing of real lavender. Even worse, this new mask has so many beads in it, it may as well be a big pink beanbag pressing heavily against my eyes.
Disappointed, I tossed the new mask on a bedside shelf, where I also keep the old one. Since I can't sleep with the new one on, I remind myself that I cleaned the slobber off the old one and use that if I really need to block out sunlight. Unfortunately, one day when I lifted the old mask, up wafted the scent of the new mask.
Because I was storing them together, the lighter scented old mask had begun to take on the stronger, unpleasant scent of the new mask.
I immediately started trying to mind-control the old mask: No! Don’t do it! You had it right!
I do, however, understand the sleep mask’s struggle.
Suddenly, a newer mask was in town. It looked different and smelled different, and since I’d brought it into the house, I must’ve thought it was worth having here. It’s enough to make any sleep mask insecure. No wonder it felt a need to adjust.
Yes, I’m projecting my own tendencies on a sleep mask. There have been times when I've needed Jesus to say through Scripture and believing friends the same thing to me that I said to the sleep mask: No, don't do it! You had it right!
So, as soon as I smelled that powdery scent on the old mask, I knew the lessons applied to how people influence each other.
Read more »
Having a bedroom with 3 skylights has turned me into a bit of a sleep mask snob.
I have a favorite with a pretty satin floral pattern on one side, velvet on the face-side, and real lavender inside. The mask is getting older, and, unfortunately, my hound also likes the smell of lavender... I caught him chewing on my precious mask. He didn't damage the fabric exactly, but he soaked it with slobber.
I thought better of subjecting something with real lavender inside to the wash, so I cleaned the mask in the sink and dried it out again, but getting it wet (or maybe it was the slobber) turned the satin yellowish. And I’m still leery of the idea of residual slobber. I love my dogs, but there are limits.
Cue a hunt for a new favorite sleep mask.
The packaging of the one I found promised the mask inside was lavender scented. It smelled okay in the store, but when I got it home, the fragrance was fake and powdery instead of the soft zing of real lavender. Even worse, this new mask has so many beads in it, it may as well be a big pink beanbag pressing heavily against my eyes.
Disappointed, I tossed the new mask on a bedside shelf, where I also keep the old one. Since I can't sleep with the new one on, I remind myself that I cleaned the slobber off the old one and use that if I really need to block out sunlight. Unfortunately, one day when I lifted the old mask, up wafted the scent of the new mask.
Because I was storing them together, the lighter scented old mask had begun to take on the stronger, unpleasant scent of the new mask.
I immediately started trying to mind-control the old mask: No! Don’t do it! You had it right!
I do, however, understand the sleep mask’s struggle.
Suddenly, a newer mask was in town. It looked different and smelled different, and since I’d brought it into the house, I must’ve thought it was worth having here. It’s enough to make any sleep mask insecure. No wonder it felt a need to adjust.
Yes, I’m projecting my own tendencies on a sleep mask. There have been times when I've needed Jesus to say through Scripture and believing friends the same thing to me that I said to the sleep mask: No, don't do it! You had it right!
So, as soon as I smelled that powdery scent on the old mask, I knew the lessons applied to how people influence each other.
Read more »
September 21, 2017
The Story of My Life from a Psalm 136 Perspective
by Emily Conrad
Psalm 136 has an interesting way of telling a story.
After each tiny installment of the story (we're talking every few words here), the writer interrupts to say, "for his loyal love endures" (as the NET puts it).
At first, I read along nodding.
Give thanks to the Lord of lords,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who performs magnificent, amazing deeds all by himself,
for his loyal love endures (Psalm 136:3-4, NET)
Amen! I can see how the magnificent deeds God do show his loyal love. His love and his work in Creation, which takes up the opening of the psalm, go hand-in-hand.
But then I kept reading and found the same phrase repeated, even after parts of the story that were harder.
to the one who divided the Red Sea in two,
for his loyal love endures,
and led Israel through its midst,
for his loyal love endures,
and tossed Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who led his people through the wilderness,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who struck down great kings,
for his loyal love endures,
and killed powerful kings,
for his loyal love endures
(Psalm 136:13-18, NET)
Notice he wrote about God leading the way through the wilderness, not that the Israelites wandered for 40 years, which might be a more human perspective. In addition to the repeated reminders that everything God does flows from His love, the psalmist insists on seeing things God's way.
I got to wondering how my life story would go if I applied both of these--God's perspective and God's love--to each beat of my own life story.
This approach forces me to acknowledge that God sees my life differently than I do.
That job I tried for and didn't get was Him freeing me up for other things I didn't know were in store.
The fifteen plus years of work to see one of my novels in print was a time most marked not by my striving or failures but by His provision.
The friendships, the writing rejections, the vacations, the ministry opportunities, the injuries and illnesses--all of it was guided by the hands of a loving God.
And so, the story of my life from a Psalm 136 perspective might go something like this:
Give thanks to the Lord of lords,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who allowed you to break your wrist
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who used that to lead you away from a day job
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who provided for you through years of waiting
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who caused that rejection,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who brought you to a publisher,
for his loyal love endures.
This tip doesn't just work for the past.
As I was praying about a family member with cancer, I thought to myself, "God, I don't know why that happened." Psalm 136 echoed back with a reply: His loyal love endures.
No, I still don't know the specific why--and I didn't expect to--but as my family and I walk through this, we have the comfort of knowing that the situation is not happening outside of God's love.
Looking back and seeing God's loyal love reassures me. Understanding the present in light of His love bolsters my faith. Filtering the view of the future through His love ignites holy anticipation.
As events unfold, we can rest in the reminder that God's loyal love endures. When we're tempted to worry about the future, we must insist on believing that God's loyal love will shape and guide what's yet to come.
God's loyal love endures.
As events unfold, we can rest in the reminder that God's loyal love endures. #Godislove #psalm via @emilyrconrad
Photo credits:
Sunflower field with woman and sunflower field photos by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash
Sunflower field with man photo by Elijah Hail on Unsplash
Edited on Canva.com
Psalm 136 has an interesting way of telling a story.
After each tiny installment of the story (we're talking every few words here), the writer interrupts to say, "for his loyal love endures" (as the NET puts it).
At first, I read along nodding.
Give thanks to the Lord of lords,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who performs magnificent, amazing deeds all by himself,
for his loyal love endures (Psalm 136:3-4, NET)
Amen! I can see how the magnificent deeds God do show his loyal love. His love and his work in Creation, which takes up the opening of the psalm, go hand-in-hand.
But then I kept reading and found the same phrase repeated, even after parts of the story that were harder.
to the one who divided the Red Sea in two,
for his loyal love endures,
and led Israel through its midst,
for his loyal love endures,
and tossed Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who led his people through the wilderness,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who struck down great kings,
for his loyal love endures,
and killed powerful kings,
for his loyal love endures
(Psalm 136:13-18, NET)
Notice he wrote about God leading the way through the wilderness, not that the Israelites wandered for 40 years, which might be a more human perspective. In addition to the repeated reminders that everything God does flows from His love, the psalmist insists on seeing things God's way.
I got to wondering how my life story would go if I applied both of these--God's perspective and God's love--to each beat of my own life story.
This approach forces me to acknowledge that God sees my life differently than I do.
That job I tried for and didn't get was Him freeing me up for other things I didn't know were in store.
The fifteen plus years of work to see one of my novels in print was a time most marked not by my striving or failures but by His provision.
The friendships, the writing rejections, the vacations, the ministry opportunities, the injuries and illnesses--all of it was guided by the hands of a loving God.
And so, the story of my life from a Psalm 136 perspective might go something like this:
Give thanks to the Lord of lords,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who allowed you to break your wrist
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who used that to lead you away from a day job
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who provided for you through years of waiting
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who caused that rejection,
for his loyal love endures,
to the one who brought you to a publisher,
for his loyal love endures.
This tip doesn't just work for the past. As I was praying about a family member with cancer, I thought to myself, "God, I don't know why that happened." Psalm 136 echoed back with a reply: His loyal love endures.
No, I still don't know the specific why--and I didn't expect to--but as my family and I walk through this, we have the comfort of knowing that the situation is not happening outside of God's love.
Looking back and seeing God's loyal love reassures me. Understanding the present in light of His love bolsters my faith. Filtering the view of the future through His love ignites holy anticipation.
As events unfold, we can rest in the reminder that God's loyal love endures. When we're tempted to worry about the future, we must insist on believing that God's loyal love will shape and guide what's yet to come.
God's loyal love endures.
As events unfold, we can rest in the reminder that God's loyal love endures. #Godislove #psalm via @emilyrconrad
Photo credits:
Sunflower field with woman and sunflower field photos by Nathan Anderson on Unsplash
Sunflower field with man photo by Elijah Hail on Unsplash
Edited on Canva.com
September 19, 2017
Filling the Soul Void
by Emily Conrad
I see you there, scrolling around the Internet. I see you because I’ve seen my own reflection in my computer screen or when I accidentally turn on my camera’s phone while doing the same.
On the surface, it's boredom, but really, the scrolling is about more than that, isn't it? It's about a search for something that will strike a chord deep within us to undo everything that’s brought us to this place, be it grief, loneliness, injustice, illness, or something else.
If your newsfeed is anything like mine, I have an idea of what you find while you scroll: an odd mashup of adorable children and brewing storms, lighthearted memes and wildfires of every sort--literal, personal, social, and political.
These posts take the pulse of what’s going on with friends, family, the country, and the world, and some good comes out of that. But it doesn’t often meet our emotional needs. In fact, the more time we spend on social media, the more likely we are to feel depressed, dissatisfied, and discontent. This article on Forbes.com talks about how using social media to "fill a void" can create a vicious cycle--scrolling because you're depressed, feeling depressed because you've been scrolling.
So, for those days when we scroll more out of need than out of interest, what will send us all back on our way, newly whole and equipped to face our lives? What fills the void?
Though social media is a dangerous place to turn to fill emotional need, there have been a couple of times when I've come away from it uplifted not because of any post itself, but because of Whom the posts pointed me toward.
One off day, I scrolled through Instagram and found myself uplifted, not because I saw a lot of pretty pictures, but because my feed was inundated with Scriptural truth.
More often, it's the blog posts from friends I've made through social media that draw me in. The ones that resonate with me are by people facing the same sort of emotional voids we all do, yet they pen poetic, beautiful posts.
More than lyrical writing makes these posts uplifting. Anxiety and doubt and worry and fear and death and grieving can’t be prettied up by language. Instead, these stories become beautiful through a God-given strength to feel, to experience, to seek the blessing in the dark place, to hope in Christ regardless of circumstances.
I pray that according to the wealth of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner person, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, so that, because you have been rooted and grounded in love, you may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and thus to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:16-19, NET, emphasis mine)
And so, what will send us on our way, newly whole, void filled? Not scrolling, not another adorable puppy photo, not three tips to success, but Jesus.
With Jesus, though we live in uncertain times and haven’t experienced the end of the story yet, we know what it will be.
Though grief and anxiety and illness linger, Jesus is our comfort.
Though we can’t see through the veil of death, Jesus is on this side of it and the other.
Though we run and sweat and bleed and die, Jesus is with us as a friend and a forerunner, a guide, and a redeemer.
Whatever flood or fire we face, we have hope in Jesus.
The by-product of knowing God and being a part of what He's doing is that He fills our voids and satisfies our souls in ways scrolling social media never could.
It's not that I'm against social media, but we're wise to do heart checks on ourselves.
If we find our moods come down and voids open up when we scroll, it's time to reconsider what we've allowed in our social media feeds. Are we staring at screens full of ugly debate and criticism or full of Scripture and God's truth? This article talks about how quality of social media interaction really does affect us (maybe even more than the quantity). It's important to remember we get to choose who we follow, and in some cases, what kinds of posts we'll see most often from those we're connected to. Don't take what's in your feed as a given when you have options.
We also need to pause before we open that browser. Instead of scrolling to fill a void, get away with Jesus, the Bible, and maybe a journal for some real time of connection that doesn't require an app. By doing this, I've experienced relief so much sweeter than anything social media could offer.
Instead of the vicious cycle of depression and social media scrolling, Jesus invites us to enter a glorious cycle of letting Christ's strength replace our weaknesses and our weaknesses serve as a reminder to depend again more fully on Christ.
What fills the void? Not scrolling, another adorable puppy photo, or 3 tips to success, but #Jesus via @emilyrconrad
Photo credits:
Title background photo by Kristopher Roller on Unsplash, text added on Canva.com
Fern photo by Nick Grappone on Unsplash
Boot photo by Andrew Walton on Unsplash
I see you there, scrolling around the Internet. I see you because I’ve seen my own reflection in my computer screen or when I accidentally turn on my camera’s phone while doing the same.
On the surface, it's boredom, but really, the scrolling is about more than that, isn't it? It's about a search for something that will strike a chord deep within us to undo everything that’s brought us to this place, be it grief, loneliness, injustice, illness, or something else.
If your newsfeed is anything like mine, I have an idea of what you find while you scroll: an odd mashup of adorable children and brewing storms, lighthearted memes and wildfires of every sort--literal, personal, social, and political.
These posts take the pulse of what’s going on with friends, family, the country, and the world, and some good comes out of that. But it doesn’t often meet our emotional needs. In fact, the more time we spend on social media, the more likely we are to feel depressed, dissatisfied, and discontent. This article on Forbes.com talks about how using social media to "fill a void" can create a vicious cycle--scrolling because you're depressed, feeling depressed because you've been scrolling.
So, for those days when we scroll more out of need than out of interest, what will send us all back on our way, newly whole and equipped to face our lives? What fills the void?
Though social media is a dangerous place to turn to fill emotional need, there have been a couple of times when I've come away from it uplifted not because of any post itself, but because of Whom the posts pointed me toward.
One off day, I scrolled through Instagram and found myself uplifted, not because I saw a lot of pretty pictures, but because my feed was inundated with Scriptural truth.
More often, it's the blog posts from friends I've made through social media that draw me in. The ones that resonate with me are by people facing the same sort of emotional voids we all do, yet they pen poetic, beautiful posts.
More than lyrical writing makes these posts uplifting. Anxiety and doubt and worry and fear and death and grieving can’t be prettied up by language. Instead, these stories become beautiful through a God-given strength to feel, to experience, to seek the blessing in the dark place, to hope in Christ regardless of circumstances.
I pray that according to the wealth of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in the inner person, that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith, so that, because you have been rooted and grounded in love, you may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and thus to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, so that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:16-19, NET, emphasis mine)
And so, what will send us on our way, newly whole, void filled? Not scrolling, not another adorable puppy photo, not three tips to success, but Jesus.
With Jesus, though we live in uncertain times and haven’t experienced the end of the story yet, we know what it will be.
Though grief and anxiety and illness linger, Jesus is our comfort.
Though we can’t see through the veil of death, Jesus is on this side of it and the other.
Though we run and sweat and bleed and die, Jesus is with us as a friend and a forerunner, a guide, and a redeemer.
Whatever flood or fire we face, we have hope in Jesus.
The by-product of knowing God and being a part of what He's doing is that He fills our voids and satisfies our souls in ways scrolling social media never could.
It's not that I'm against social media, but we're wise to do heart checks on ourselves.
If we find our moods come down and voids open up when we scroll, it's time to reconsider what we've allowed in our social media feeds. Are we staring at screens full of ugly debate and criticism or full of Scripture and God's truth? This article talks about how quality of social media interaction really does affect us (maybe even more than the quantity). It's important to remember we get to choose who we follow, and in some cases, what kinds of posts we'll see most often from those we're connected to. Don't take what's in your feed as a given when you have options.
We also need to pause before we open that browser. Instead of scrolling to fill a void, get away with Jesus, the Bible, and maybe a journal for some real time of connection that doesn't require an app. By doing this, I've experienced relief so much sweeter than anything social media could offer.
Instead of the vicious cycle of depression and social media scrolling, Jesus invites us to enter a glorious cycle of letting Christ's strength replace our weaknesses and our weaknesses serve as a reminder to depend again more fully on Christ.
What fills the void? Not scrolling, another adorable puppy photo, or 3 tips to success, but #Jesus via @emilyrconrad
Photo credits:
Title background photo by Kristopher Roller on Unsplash, text added on Canva.com
Fern photo by Nick Grappone on Unsplash
Boot photo by Andrew Walton on Unsplash
September 14, 2017
Why It's Important to Celebrate (and some book news!)
by Emily Conrad
I was just sitting down in the cafe at Barnes and Noble with two of my local writing friends when a familiar name popped up on my cell phone screen. Familiar, but someone who usually emails rather than calls: my literary agent.
I stepped away to take the call, aware that my friends would probably be watching with interest. Good, bad, or otherwise, my immediate, unedited reaction would be evident. Zero recovery time, zero let's-put-this-in-perspective planning.
I was expecting to hear from him, though, and I had an idea of what he might say, so no big deal. Except he didn't say what I thought he'd say.
Read more »
I was just sitting down in the cafe at Barnes and Noble with two of my local writing friends when a familiar name popped up on my cell phone screen. Familiar, but someone who usually emails rather than calls: my literary agent.
I stepped away to take the call, aware that my friends would probably be watching with interest. Good, bad, or otherwise, my immediate, unedited reaction would be evident. Zero recovery time, zero let's-put-this-in-perspective planning.
I was expecting to hear from him, though, and I had an idea of what he might say, so no big deal. Except he didn't say what I thought he'd say.
Read more »
September 12, 2017
You Are Necessary
by Emily Conrad
I went to France with a program from my high school. Two other Emilys came, too, and yet another stayed back home. Considering the group couldn't have been more than twenty of us, that's a huge percentage of Emilys.
A family moved in next door to mine when I was a child, and their eldest daughter shared both my first and middle name. She also had the same last initial.
Really, how many Emilys does one community need?
Of course, Emily is just a superficial name. Though I have many commonalities with the Emilys I've known--first name, nationality, hometown, race, even sometimes religion and hobbies--we each have our own personalities. And so, I've come to terms with having a common name.
It's not quite so easy for me to come to terms with having a common calling.
I'm a writer, and I'm in very good company.
My message of hope in Jesus, though important, isn't unique. In fact, there's another Emily that writes a similar message well to a much larger audience than I do.
And so, sometimes, I feel a little bit extra. A little bit unnecessary and not quite significant.
The "I'm just another __________" syndrome strikes us all sometimes, doesn't it?
I'm just another writer. I'm just another stay at home mom. I'm just another wife. I'm just another accountant. I'm just another teacher. I'm just another ______________.
And yet, God has deemed each of us necessary. Before founding the world, God imagined me and you and determined that in this time and in this place, the existence of yet another _________ was just the thing.
How do I know this? Well, there are Bible verses (check out Ephesians 1:3-10 and Ephesians 2:10), but there's also fungus.
Yup. Fungus.
Read more »
I went to France with a program from my high school. Two other Emilys came, too, and yet another stayed back home. Considering the group couldn't have been more than twenty of us, that's a huge percentage of Emilys.
A family moved in next door to mine when I was a child, and their eldest daughter shared both my first and middle name. She also had the same last initial.
Really, how many Emilys does one community need?
Of course, Emily is just a superficial name. Though I have many commonalities with the Emilys I've known--first name, nationality, hometown, race, even sometimes religion and hobbies--we each have our own personalities. And so, I've come to terms with having a common name.
It's not quite so easy for me to come to terms with having a common calling.
I'm a writer, and I'm in very good company.
My message of hope in Jesus, though important, isn't unique. In fact, there's another Emily that writes a similar message well to a much larger audience than I do.
And so, sometimes, I feel a little bit extra. A little bit unnecessary and not quite significant.
The "I'm just another __________" syndrome strikes us all sometimes, doesn't it?
I'm just another writer. I'm just another stay at home mom. I'm just another wife. I'm just another accountant. I'm just another teacher. I'm just another ______________.
And yet, God has deemed each of us necessary. Before founding the world, God imagined me and you and determined that in this time and in this place, the existence of yet another _________ was just the thing.
How do I know this? Well, there are Bible verses (check out Ephesians 1:3-10 and Ephesians 2:10), but there's also fungus.
Yup. Fungus.
Read more »
September 7, 2017
If the Label Doesn't Fit
by Emily Conrad
At 12:12 PM on Saturday afternoon, I typed the last line in my most recent work in progress. A few minutes later, deciding the moment needed to be punctuated, I added the words THE END. Just like that, all caps.
I shot off an email to a writing friend that went like this: Woot! I finished my draft today! But, well, shoot, I think it’s a romance after all.
She’s the only one who’s been reading it, and she assured me that yes, the novel’s a romance.
Well, shoot.
Up until now, my work has mostly been women’s fiction. Granted, I usually incorporate a strong romantic element, so writing all-out romance isn’t that much of a stretch, but there are some differences, and I was really, really committed to being considered a women’s fiction writer.
Now that it's time to give the label up (in part, anyway), I've been questioning why it was so important to me to begin with. And what I'm learning applies to so many areas of life beyond writing.
Read more »
At 12:12 PM on Saturday afternoon, I typed the last line in my most recent work in progress. A few minutes later, deciding the moment needed to be punctuated, I added the words THE END. Just like that, all caps.
I shot off an email to a writing friend that went like this: Woot! I finished my draft today! But, well, shoot, I think it’s a romance after all.
She’s the only one who’s been reading it, and she assured me that yes, the novel’s a romance.
Well, shoot.
Up until now, my work has mostly been women’s fiction. Granted, I usually incorporate a strong romantic element, so writing all-out romance isn’t that much of a stretch, but there are some differences, and I was really, really committed to being considered a women’s fiction writer.
Now that it's time to give the label up (in part, anyway), I've been questioning why it was so important to me to begin with. And what I'm learning applies to so many areas of life beyond writing.
Read more »
September 5, 2017
Morning Glory Bible Verses - Hope in the Worst Times
by Emily Conrad
The lower hems of my jeans are damp as I start to write this post. They collected dew as I walked across the grass to the flowerbed where I grow cucumbers and, the focus of the day, morning glories.
I planted a variety packet of morning glory seeds about three months ago. The heart-shaped leaves appeared, and I started to watch for blooms. The vines grew and grew, lacing themselves up the lattice fence, twirling around the cast iron shepherd’s hook, seeming destined to take over the world.
But no flowers.
Cue an Internet search to determine if my seeds were duds. That’s when I learned that morning glories are one of the last flowers to bloom. Especially when started from seed. This is a flower you have to wait for, and now six different colors of them shine from the vines on the fence.
I took pictures of each and proceeded inside with the idea that I would find all the verses I could that described God’s love for us specifically mentioning morning—the Biblical version of a morning glory.
Specifically, I had in mind the verse about how his mercies are new every morning. If that wasn’t a morning glory, nothing would be.
But there’s something else to know about morning glories: they’ll climb up anything. For example, some of my neighbors plant them at the base of a wire that leads up to a telephone pole. The morning glories have climbed halfway to the top, wrapping around that wire like streamers at a birthday party. Whether such a thing is safe, I can’t say, but it’s pretty.
That verse about God’s mercies in the morning is a similar story. It doesn’t grow where I’d expected to find it—Psalms or maybe Isaiah. Instead, it grows from the soil of Lamentations. It’s entwined with the scaffolding of disaster the likes of which I’ve never seen and cannot imagine, destruction and war so devastating that mothers are cannibalizing their children.
It’s hard to even type that, but that is where the morning glory grows.
What I consider a morning glory verse is different now than when I started this search. Now, it’s a verse of stunning belief in God’s goodness and love despite terrible circumstances. Faith that is truly in things unseen. This is the kind of faith I want, the kind of faith we all need to navigate life in this world where we’ve been promised we’ll have trouble.
This is the kind of faith I saw when someone affected by Hurricane Harvey ended a long post about the needs she saw around her with a verse from Isaiah:
When you pass through the waters, I am with you;
when you pass through the streams, they will not overwhelm you.
Isaiah 43:2a, NET
If I’m to face trouble (and I will), may it be with morning glory faith like what I see in Lamentations, like what I saw rise in the face of the flood waters.
We need morning glory faith now more than ever.
And what does that look like? Well, it goes something like this:
The Lord’s loyal kindness never ceases;
his compassions never end.
They are fresh every morning;
your faithfulness is abundant!
“My portion is the Lord,” I have said to myself,
so I will put my hope in him. (Lamentations 3:22-24, NET)
What verses of God's goodness do you cling to when things get tough?
Growing morning glory #faith for life in this world where we’ve been promised we’ll have trouble via @emilyrconrad
The lower hems of my jeans are damp as I start to write this post. They collected dew as I walked across the grass to the flowerbed where I grow cucumbers and, the focus of the day, morning glories.
I planted a variety packet of morning glory seeds about three months ago. The heart-shaped leaves appeared, and I started to watch for blooms. The vines grew and grew, lacing themselves up the lattice fence, twirling around the cast iron shepherd’s hook, seeming destined to take over the world.
But no flowers.
Cue an Internet search to determine if my seeds were duds. That’s when I learned that morning glories are one of the last flowers to bloom. Especially when started from seed. This is a flower you have to wait for, and now six different colors of them shine from the vines on the fence.
I took pictures of each and proceeded inside with the idea that I would find all the verses I could that described God’s love for us specifically mentioning morning—the Biblical version of a morning glory.
Specifically, I had in mind the verse about how his mercies are new every morning. If that wasn’t a morning glory, nothing would be.
But there’s something else to know about morning glories: they’ll climb up anything. For example, some of my neighbors plant them at the base of a wire that leads up to a telephone pole. The morning glories have climbed halfway to the top, wrapping around that wire like streamers at a birthday party. Whether such a thing is safe, I can’t say, but it’s pretty.
That verse about God’s mercies in the morning is a similar story. It doesn’t grow where I’d expected to find it—Psalms or maybe Isaiah. Instead, it grows from the soil of Lamentations. It’s entwined with the scaffolding of disaster the likes of which I’ve never seen and cannot imagine, destruction and war so devastating that mothers are cannibalizing their children.
It’s hard to even type that, but that is where the morning glory grows.
What I consider a morning glory verse is different now than when I started this search. Now, it’s a verse of stunning belief in God’s goodness and love despite terrible circumstances. Faith that is truly in things unseen. This is the kind of faith I want, the kind of faith we all need to navigate life in this world where we’ve been promised we’ll have trouble.
This is the kind of faith I saw when someone affected by Hurricane Harvey ended a long post about the needs she saw around her with a verse from Isaiah:
When you pass through the waters, I am with you;
when you pass through the streams, they will not overwhelm you.
Isaiah 43:2a, NET
If I’m to face trouble (and I will), may it be with morning glory faith like what I see in Lamentations, like what I saw rise in the face of the flood waters.
We need morning glory faith now more than ever.
And what does that look like? Well, it goes something like this:
The Lord’s loyal kindness never ceases;
his compassions never end.
They are fresh every morning;
your faithfulness is abundant!
“My portion is the Lord,” I have said to myself,
so I will put my hope in him. (Lamentations 3:22-24, NET)
What verses of God's goodness do you cling to when things get tough?
Growing morning glory #faith for life in this world where we’ve been promised we’ll have trouble via @emilyrconrad
