Lysa TerKeurst's Blog, page 26

The Day I Lost My Smile

I looked at my schedule and an overwhelming sense of dread started creeping into my heart. “What’s wrong with me? Why am I always running late, running behind, and running after my people who all seem to compound this issue?”

Because time refused to stand still while I pondered, it was necessary to jump right into task mode. There were lunches to pack, permission forms to sign, and tangles that needed gathering up into ponytails. I put one foot in front of the other and kicked into automatic, mentally crossing off one thing after another on my morning routine checklist.

I gathered up backpacks and lunchboxes and started announcing from the front door that we had to leave right this minute. And then I said it again. And then I yelled it in a tone that finally got my kids to appear. I quickly checked to make sure we didn’t repeat yesterday’s mistake of letting one leave with no shoes on. Then I marched out of the house while tossing out a stern reminder to please shut the door quickly so the dog didn’t get out.

But the dog did get out.

As I slipped the car in drive, the dog darted right out in front of me causing me to simultaneously slam on the brakes and spill both cups of orange juice I had gingerly perched between my purse and the little stacks of toast.

I jumped out to usher the dog back into the house and let hot tears just have their way. The green numbers of the dashboard clock seemed to simultaneously mock and remind me I had no time to sit and cry it all out.

I handed my kids their soggy toast and in a rare moment of silence, they took it without protest.

We pulled into the carpool line at school and I stared at the long line of cars ahead of me. I imagined all the wonderful smiling mothers who were doing this better than me. They probably had organized systems for packing lunches the night before and making sure their kids kept up with their shoes. They probably did family devotions each morning, ate breakfast at the table, and sang songs all the way to school.

I compared all that to the realities of my morning and came to one heart-sinking conclusion: “I stink at this.”

Almost at that exact moment my phone buzzed with a text message from a friend: “I had a really hard morning with my kids today. I’d love to have coffee some time and learn how you do it all so well.”

I couldn’t believe it. I half sighed and half chuckled at the irony.

I turned around to my kids in the back and said, “Hey guys, I’m really sorry Mommy was such a grump this morning. I think I misplaced my smile. So I just want you to know while you’re at school today I’m going to do everything I can to find it.”

After I dropped them off, I called that friend and told her what a gift it was to get her text.

I shared with her. She shared with me.

Together, we brainstormed better ways to prepare for these morning pitfalls we both kept finding ourselves in.

Together, we gave ourselves the permission to admit how hard motherhood can sometimes be and that it’s okay to feel caught off guard by the endless demands.

Together, we listed reasons to be so very thankful.

Together, we found strength.

Together, we regained our sense of dignity.

And it wasn’t too long until we both found ourselves laughing together.

It reminds me Proverbs 31:25, “She is clothed with strength and dignity; she can laugh at the days to come.” But sometimes it takes a friend to bring us back to the place where we can live this verse.

We need each other. The key word that day I processed life with my friend and gained a better perspective was, “together.” It’s such a powerful word and the exact reason I wrote this post today.

You are not alone.

Oh, how easy it is to lose our smiles and forget to laugh at the craziness of our lives. I need reminders, like the truth of Proverbs 31:25 and that sweet time spent with my friend.

I imagine, though the circumstances might be different for you, you know that place where I was. And maybe you need a reminder to laugh too. We all have times where we feel like failures. We feel like others are doing life so much better. We feel so very alone in our struggles and issues and chaotic emotions. And we look up one day and feel like it was a lifetime ago since we laughed.

So, I slip this little encouragement into your life and whisper, you’re not alone. You’re doing this so much better than you think you are. God has entrusted you with your life, your loved ones, your unique challenges because you are perfectly equipped for it all.

Just don’t lose your smile. And if you run into me today looking a little worn out, might you remind me of this as well?

Related posts:

Thank God for Smelly Shoes
Could I Be The Worst Mom Ever?
Bring It!

The 5 Mom Prayers You Need

Being a mom is wonderfully amazing. Until it isn’t. And I find myself awake at 3am wondering what I could have done better … or beating myself up for all the ways I fall short … or convincing myself I sometimes just flat out stink at being a mom.

Ever been there?

Deep fear grips the heart of a mother who feels quite inadequate and unsure of what to do next.

I beg God to appear in my bedroom with the fix-it plan and assurance that it really is going to be okay.

After all, He’s the perfect Parent, and has dealt with imperfect children since the beginning of time. I think He offers the best advice around.

But He doesn’t appear. Not in the flesh anyhow. Instead, He leads me to open His Word and put pen to paper. I scribble truth, thoughts, and prayers.

And then I wonder if you ever feel like me.

For those who sigh and say, “yes,” I put together a 5-day devotional with accompanying prayers you can lift up for yourself as a mom. I thought this might be the perfect piece of encouragement for you this Mother’s Day.

To sign up to receive “The 5 Mom Prayers You Need,” pop over to my Instagram @LysaTerKeurst or by clicking here. I’m posting inspirational graphics and in my profile you’ll find the link to sign up. Here’s a sneak peek at what I’ve been posting …

Happy Mother’s Day!

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10 Prayers For Your Daughter
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The Day My Insecurities Didn’t Win

Don’t Delete That Photo…

I had seen several posts on Instagram of couples looking so fun and whimsically romantic that I decided to look for a moment like this for my husband, Art, and me to capture. We were on vacation so surely this would be a realistic endeavor.

That night, we walked out from dinner just in time to see a beautiful sky swirling with a magnificent sunset. “This is it!” I grabbed my phone and tapped the camera option.

Y’all. It wasn’t pretty. No amount of editing, cropping, or filter-adding would have made this picture (or the several attempts that followed) look like the ones I had seen on Instagram.

But I’m learning to embrace something: it’s moments that simply happen, not the ones manufactured, that truly capture life.

I’m posting more about this over at (in)Courage today. Click here to read the rest of my post and to join in on the conversation!

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Learn To Love Your Story – #BEaNOTICER
the moments we don’t capture with pictures

Mother’s Day for the Motherless Mother

As Mother’s Day approaches, my heart is especially sensitive to my friends for whom this holiday will be hard. I have friends who will be standing by gravesites this Mother’s Day. I also have friends whose moms haven’t been a part of their lives in many years. And those who have challenging relationships with their moms who try to navigate Mother’s Day with grace but some necessary distance.

No matter the circumstances, I wanted a post that could help those feeling the sting of a mother’s absence.

My friend, Lisa-Jo, knows this delicate struggle in deep ways. And from her own pain, she pens these words for us…

My mom used to dance in the mornings.

A happy, shameless jig in her PJs right out there in the driveway as my dad drove us off to school. She’d dance and wave and grin and I could feel the love well up from my toes to my nose. It spilled out of me – this being someone’s daughter. Loved. Cherished. Celebrated.

She’s been dead now 21 years to the day since I turned 18.

Time passes and with it go the birthdays, love stories, anniversaries, new babies, first steps, preschool orientations, international moves, new jobs, hair color changes. And each milestone is a mile more in the road that we don’t walk together.

I am the motherless daughter.

And three continents and three kids later I have grown up into the motherless mother.

Of two sons. And a daughter.

Everything I can’t remember about my mother I see reflected in my daughter’s eyes. I am terrified by how much I love her. How does a mother bear it? The good-bye. Twenty years. Twenty years. It hurts to type it.

Twenty years ago I sat in a pew and sang the last words my mother left for us:

“Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

‘It is well, it is well, with my soul.’”

One week after I’d turned eighteen. I’m thirty-nine today. And I’m still singing it, Mom. I’m singing it still, and I still believe every hard, awful word to be true. That we can sing though the heavens crash open and the world comes pouring down around us. We can raise our eyes and our voices to the hills, where our help comes from, and sing. Even when all that comes out is a whisper.

“Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say,

‘It is well, it is well, with my soul.’”

So many of us make the journey to motherhood without a mom. Whether she’s absent because she chose to leave or because she was emotionally unavailable or because she died like mine did, we all have to make sense of what that means for our own mothering.

I am the motherless mother.

If you are too, can I take your hand?

Can I stroke the hair back from your forehead and just be here with you? Can I whisper, “I know” and let you cry if you need to? Can I just sit a while beside you as you shout the hard questions?

I believe God can take it.

I believe He invites it.

…the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. Romans 8:26.

Go ahead and groan child. Let the part of you that never got to grow up with a mom, never got to bear down with her as you bore down in labor, never got to introduce her to your own babies — let that part of you weep if she needs to. You are beautiful and loved and not a single tear falls to the ground uncherished by the Father God who holds us both.

You keep track of all my sorrows.

You have collected all my tears in your bottle.

You have recorded each one in your book.

~Psalm 56:8

You are your mother’s daughter, created in your Father God’s image. And nothing can break that.

We’re in this together. Every step of the way. And you are braver than you know, for all the ways you mother.

{Click here to see the video if you’re reading in an email.}

So let us celebrate quiet together. Whisper into the comments what you miss, what you loved, what you wish she might have done different, what you wish you’d said, what you wish she knew about her grand babies, what makes you your mother’s daughter.

And today I will stop, remember, and rejoice with you, my brave, beautiful, utterly beloved sister!

Happy nearly Mother’s Day,

Lisa-Jo

Photo credits: Mallory MacDonald

Lisa-Jo’s new book, Surprised by Motherhood, is her story of rediscovering her own mom through her kids and the Jesus who saved the best till last.

Click here to read the first three chapters for free.

Click here to order a copy for a special mother in your life.

GIVEAWAY: In celebration of mothers everywhere, we’re giving away 3 copies of Lisa-Jo’s book — Surprised by Motherhood: Everything I Never Expected About Being a Mom AND three sets of Daily Grace Teacups and Teapots. If you are a mother, have a mother, or know a mother this book is for you. Just leave a comment to be entered. (Please note: this giveaway is only open to US residents.)

 

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Holy Land – The Upper Room and His Prayer for You There

“The Teacher asks: ‘Where is the guest room, where I may eat the Passover with my disciples?’ He will show you a large upper room, all furnished. Make preparations there… When the hour came, Jesus and his apostles reclined at the table. And he said to them, ‘I have eagerly desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer. For I tell you, I will not eat it again until it finds fulfillment in the kingdom of God.’”

Luke 22: 11, 12, 14-16

They ate together. They drank together. They experienced Jesus’ last supper together.

All 4 Gospels give an account of this Last Supper. Matthew 26, Mark 14, Luke 22, and John 13-17.

But I like studying this event as recorded by John the most since he was most thorough.

There was so much we could focus on in studying what happened in the upper room. I treasure reading about these last moments of Jesus with His friends. But at the same time, my heart aches as I read them. He knew all that was about to happen to Him. He knew.

John records so much that happened on their last night together. There was the washing of the disciples’ feet. Jesus tells them about His plans to prepare a place for them. He promises the Holy Spirit.

Then He prays. For Himself. For the disciples.

And then for you and me.

As I reread the account of what happened on this night, the fact that He prayed for us… you and me… in these final moments, astounds me.

I need to read what He prayed. Even more importantly, I need to live what He prayed.

“… May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me,” (John 17:23)

May those of us who He brought to complete unity let the world know about Jesus and His love.

Unity. Love.

That’s what He prayed. But is this what we live?

Do I see unity and love in the way Christians speak about one another online?

Do I see unity and love in the way I handle frustrations?

Do I see unity and love in the way I process people who think differently than me?

Do I see unity and love between pastors and churches and denominations?

Sometimes I do. But heartbreakingly, many times I don’t.

If I don’t see what should be the defining marks for us Christians, what must the onlooking world think?

The last words John records of Jesus praying to the Father in the upper room were these, “I have made you known to them, and I will continue to make you known in order that the love you have for me may be in them and that I myself may be in them,” (John 17:26).

This Easter, might we each choose to redefine what unity and love looks like in our lives. We honor Him when we live His prayer.

As a special Easter giveaway, I will pick 3 winners to each receive a rock that I brought back from the Holy Land. I’ll write a note explaining why I chose this rock and include it in your package if you are one of the winners.

To enter, leave me a comment below telling me how you will seek to live Jesus’ prayer for unity and love more authentically this week.

Related posts:

Holy Land Lens at Home
Day 2 in the Holy Land – What I Never Noticed About Jesus
Day 1 in the Holy Land – What I Learned from the Olive Tree

Holy Land Lens at Home

When I was a little girl, someone pointed at the Dogwood tree and taught me to think about Jesus and the Cross.

It went something like this:

The tip of each pure white petal looks like nail prints… brown with rust and stained with a slight red hue. The center is like a crown of thorns. And the timing of its bloom… Easter.

I don’t know where these thoughts originated. But as I walked where Jesus walked in the Holy Land, my mind came alive with how many common things Jesus pointed at or referred to when he taught.

Fish. Salt. Flowers. Mustard seed. Gate. Field. Sheep. Shepherd. Water. Wine. Bread. Storms. Coins. Mud. Clothes. Oil. Door. Lamp.

And on and on went “the pointing finger of Jesus” as our teacher called it.

Ordinary objects reminding us of divine thoughts.

Jesus used objects we’d encounter often to draw our minds to think on truth. After all, of all the reasons Jesus could have stated for coming to this world…

He answered, “You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth,” (John 18:37).

Truth. It’s what Jesus wants us to see. To know. To live. To remember.

So, I look at this Dogwood tree in my front yard and see a reminder. And I remember the glorious gift of grace given on a cross and life resurrected in an empty tomb.

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Day 3 in the Holy Land – Might We Dare to be a Little More Uncommon
Day 1 in the Holy Land – What I Learned from the Olive Tree
Experience the Holy Land Without Having to Leave Home

Day 3 in the Holy Land – Might We Dare to be a Little More Uncommon

I have to admit when our guide pulled over to the side of the road at this unmarked, unremarkable looking place, I was underwhelmed. We filed out of the bus with a vague sense we were studying something in the chapter of Acts.

There were no signs.

No other tourists.

Our teacher walked to a place covered with brush and pointed to a rocky path. We gingerly made our way behind him and soon came upon a road:

We walked down the road with our teacher pointing out for us to notice how the road was perfectly designed with the wheels of chariots in mind. The spaces between the gently descending, shallow stairs allowed for the wheels to catch and bump with the least amount of discomfort to the passengers.

With great enthusiasm the teacher said, “This road is where a man learned of Christ and received the good news!” We walked a little further and saw this:

“This place of water is where this man was baptized shortly afterward and went away rejoicing. We should rejoice! We should rejoice!”

And then we opened the Scriptures to Acts 8:26-39, the story of the Ethiopian Eunuch.

Can I admit something to you that I’m not very proud of? Even after reading the Scriptures I wondered why our teacher picked this spot. We had so little time in the Holy Land and we all wanted to see so much. I felt like there were much bigger events that had taken place in much more well-known places. Shouldn’t we focus on those?

Why this place? Why this story?

And then as quickly as we arrived, our teacher whisked us back on the bus with one final statement, “Individuals matter.”

Those two words have lingered in my thoughts and have honestly made this underwhelming stop one of my favorites to look back on.

This morning I opened Acts 8 again and re-read it. Here are three things from this Scripture that I want to let have their way with my heart and mind this week:

1. Go near.

Verse 29, “The Spirit told Philip, ‘Go to that chariot and stay near it.’”

This Ethiopian Eunuch wasn’t like Philip. He wasn’t in his inner circle, comfort zone, or part of his immediate sphere of influence. And yet, the Spirit instructed Philip to go close.

God help us. We must break out of the boxes of our normality and dare to go close to those we don’t understand. We must not use words like, “those people” with pointed fingers and hard hearts and spiritually superior attitudes.

By going close, we see things we need to see. We hear things we need to hear. And our hearts become tender in the way we must be tender.

By going close, we might actually dare to let love guide our approach.

2. Gain understanding.

Verse 30, “Then Philip ran up to the chariot and heard the man reading Isaiah the prophet.”

He ran. This took effort, energy, and intentionality. Then, instead of wielding God’s Word like a weapon and haphazardly throwing Truth at this man, he first listened.

Then based on what he heard, he asked this eunuch if he understood what he was reading. Philip discerned a felt need the man had and sought to meet that need. Philip let the man’s agenda come before his own.

God help us. Instead of running alongside people seeking to understand them, we sometimes have tendencies to run them over with our agendas and perceptions and points of view. We must seek to be discerning, not demanding.

3. Garner the right to share.

Verse 31, “…So he invited Philip to come up and sit with him.”

Philip earned the right to be heard and then was invited to share. Once he dared to go near and gain understanding then he garnered the right to share. Verse 35 goes on to reveal that Philip began where this man was and “told him the good news about Jesus.”

God help us. We must go to people. Listen to people. Start where they are, not where we want them to be. And from their point of need, lovingly share the good news.

And might I share one more thing I love that Philip did? I didn’t make it point #4 because for the life of me I couldn’t think of a “G” word to title it and I get all worked up with inconsistent word wielding. It’s an issue. Kind of like when a sock has that annoying seam across the toe and it just doesn’t sit well across your foot all day. You know what I mean? So, no point 4. But don’t miss this…

Philip continued to travel down the road with this man for a bit. Verses 36-39 reveal, “As they traveled along the road, they came to some water… Then Philip and the eunuch went down into the water and Philip baptized him.” And the eunuch went on his way rejoicing.

Looking back, I’m so thankful our teacher took the time to bring us to this place. Remember, there were no signs and there were no tourists.

This was an uncommon stop in the Holy Land.

Uncommon.

Might we all dare to be a little more uncommon, more often.

Related posts:

Day 2 in the Holy Land – What I Never Noticed About Jesus
Day 1 in the Holy Land – What I Learned from the Olive Tree
Experience the Holy Land Without Having to Leave Home

Day 2 in the Holy Land – What I Never Noticed About Jesus

I ran my hand over the large rock and closed my eyes. What an incredible moment it was for me to stand where Jesus once stood. I opened my Bible and let the full reality of all He was facing, fall fresh on me.

I wanted to read the Scriptures leading up to this moment where He sat on Mt. Arbel and prayed and watched the disciples just before walking on water.

But I cautioned myself to read the uncommon sentences. Too many times I highlight verses telling of Jesus’ miracles but skim right past those telling of deeply human realities.

In Mark 5 we see Jesus interacting with a woman desperate to be healed from her bleeding disorder. He frees her from her suffering and gives her peace. And we find Him healing the young daughter of a synagogue ruler.

Miracle!

But we also find in verse 40, “But they laughed at him.”

In Mark chapter 6 we find Jesus sending out the twelve disciples and as they preached, “They drove out many demons and anointed many sick people with oil and healed them,” (v.13.)

Miracle!

But we also find verse 3, “…And they took offense at him.”

We find Him having great compassion on the people who followed Him in the feeding of the five thousand. They all ate and were satisfied by five loaves and two fish.

Miracle!

But we also see that Jesus and His disciples were physically depleted, “because so many were coming and going that they did not even have a chance to eat,” (v.31).

Messy realities were in the midst of the miracles.

And isn’t it so like us to miss this about Jesus’ everyday life? We hyper focus on the lines of Scripture containing the miracles so much that we miss the detail of the mess.

Jesus had people laugh at Him and reject Him and misunderstand Him. We know this in theory, but as I sat on that rock that day I suddenly realized what an everyday reality this was for Him.

Now, here’s what happens to me in my life… I get so focused on the mess, I miss the miracles.

And that’s the very thing that happens to the disciples right after the feeding of the five thousand. They got in a boat and strong winds caused the water to get very rough. The disciples were straining at the oars as the realities of life beat against them.

Jesus was on the mountainside praying. From this spot on Mt. Arbel, Jesus could see the middle of the lake where the disciples were. Mark 6:47-48, “When the evening came, the boat was in the middle of the lake, and he was alone on land. He saw the disciples straining at the oars, because the wind was against them.”

Jesus saw them. He went down to them. And they missed the miracle in the midst of the mess.

The same miracle worker that multiplied the fish and the loaves was now walking on the water near them and they thought He was a ghost. They were terrified and then were amazed but they didn’t understand for the Scriptures say, “their hearts were hardened,” (v.52).

It seems to me Jesus has a pattern of doing the miraculous in the setting of messes.

Oh Lord, let me see this. Please don’t let the messes of life harden my heart and blind me to Your presence. Instead of being so terrified in the midst of the mess, might I keep the picture of You, watching me, always watching me. And might I find courage in the assurance that You will come to me with Your miraculous presence.

I need to spend a whole lot less time trying to fix the messes in my life… and a whole lot more time keeping my heart soft in the process. Then I won’t miss the miraculous work of Jesus in the midst of my mess.

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Related posts:

Day 1 in the Holy Land – What I Learned from the Olive Tree
Experience the Holy Land Without Having to Leave Home
Easter, Might You Linger A Bit Longer?

Day 1 in the Holy Land – What I Learned from the Olive Tree

No one wants to have their heart crushed. But being wounded in deep places happens. Sometimes it just seems to be a part of the rhythm of life.

And when these hard times come, we feel it all so very deeply. And we wonder if others have these hard, hard moments. After all, we don’t snap pictures of the crushing times and post them on Instagram.

We just wonder if we have what it takes to survive…

…when the doctor calls and says he needs to talk to me in person about the test results.

…when the teacher sends one of “those” emails about my child that evokes tall shadows of fear.

…when something someone shares online feels as if a dagger was driven deep inside me.

…when someone I love closes their heart and turns their back on me.

…when I feel so utterly incapable and unable and afraid.

I suspect you know the tear-filled place from which I speak.

So, let’s journey first to the olive tree and learn.

To get to the place I want to take you we must cross the Kidron Valley. I’ll post more about this place later but here’s a picture:

John 18: 1-2, “When he had finished praying, Jesus left with his disciples and crossed the Kidron Valley. On the other side there was an olive grove, and he and his disciples went into it. Now Judas, who betrayed him, knew the place, because Jesus had often met there with his disciples.”

Jesus often met in the shadow and shade of the olive tree.

The olive grove mentioned above is the Garden of Gethsemane. In this garden is where Jesus, just before his arrest said to Peter, James and John, “My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,” (Mark 14:34).

Jesus knew the crushing heart feeling. He felt it. He wrestled with it. He carried it.

And I don’t think it was a coincidence the olive tree was there in this moment of deep sorrow for Jesus.

The olive tree is such a picture of why our hearts must go through the crushing times.

First, in order to be fruitful it has to have both the east wind and the west wind. The east wind is the dry hot wind from the desert. This is a harsh wind. So harsh that it can blow over green grass and make it completely wither in one day. (The east wind is also the one that blew over Job’s house.)

The west wind, on the other hand, comes from the Mediterranean. It brings rain and life.

The olive tree needs both of these winds to produce fruit… and so do we. We need both the winds of hardship and winds of relief to sweep across our life if we are to truly be fruitful.

Another thing to consider about the olive tree is how naturally bitter the olive is and what it must go through to be useful. In October if you were to pick an olive from the tree and try to eat it, its bitterness would make you sick.

For the olive to be eatable, it has to go through a lengthy process which includes…

washing,

breaking,

soaking,

sometimes salting,

and waiting some more.

It is a lengthy process to be cured of bitterness.

If we are to escape the natural bitterness of the human heart, we have to go through a long process as well… the process of being cured.

The final thing I want to consider about the olive is not just how bitter it is, but also how strong and hard it is when picked straight from the tree. If you are harvesting olives for oil, you must pray for a soaking rain to come if you hope to get oil from the olives. It needs a hard rain of at least 2-3 hours so the water can make it all the way up the roots, through the tree, and to the olives.

Then the olives can be picked and preserved.

And the best way to preserve an olive for the long run? Crush it and extract the oil from it.

The same is true for us. The Biblical way to be preserved is to be pressed. And being pressed can certainly feel like being crushed.

But what about the verse in 2 Corinthians 4:8 NIV where it says, “we are pressed but not crushed”? Let’s read verses 8 and 9 in the King James version:

“We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; Persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed;”

This was one of the biggest “aha” moments for me standing in the shadow of the olive tree: crushing isn’t the olive’s end.

Crushing is the way of preservation for the olive. It’s also the way to get what’s most valuable, the oil, out of the olive. Keeping this perspective is how we can be troubled on every side yet not distressed… pressed to the point of being crushed but not crushed and destroyed.

I think I need to revisit this truth often.

But here’s the thing I must remember as I think back about my time with the olive tree:

When the sorrowful winds of the east blow, I forget they are necessary.

When I’m being processed, I forget it’s for the sake of ridding me of bitterness.

And when I’m being crushed I forget it’s for the sake of my preservation.

I forget all these things so easily. I wrestle and cry and honestly want to resist every bit of this. Oh, how I forget.

Maybe God knew we all would.

And so, He created the olive tree.

Oh Holy Spirit, speak to us in whatever way You need to. Whatever part of this is for us personally, may we see, receive, and be revived.

Related posts:

Experience the Holy Land Without Having to Leave Home
Why Do I Feel That It’s My Fault When My Child Messes Up?
Easter, Might You Linger A Bit Longer?

Experience the Holy Land Without Having to Leave Home

Have you ever read the Bible and wished you could have been there in that place to see what Jesus was pointing at… to walk where He walked… to see what the Disciples saw?

I just returned home from the Holy Land. There really aren’t enough words to fully describe what I experienced there.

That’s why I want to share some of my journey through pictures and devotions over the next several weeks.

I believe the pictures are so necessary because we think in pictures. Our mind houses thousands, maybe millions of pictures that help us visualize words we hear and read. Without pictures we can’t possibly capture the depth of proper meaning.

I saw this when we adopted our boys from Africa. Though they spoke English, there was a pretty extreme language barrier between us. For example, if I said, “Do you want to eat a hot dog?”… they would picture a dog who was very hot… and, well, you get why that lunch discussion didn’t go very well.

That’s what I kept thinking about while on my intense study trip in Israel. I’ve studied the Scriptures for years, but without the pictures in my mind I missed so much.

Oh, how I wish I could whisk you away to experience Israel with me in person. Maybe we can do this together one day! But since that’s not possible today, I thought I could slip a few pictures and thoughts under your door and with great enthusiasm say, “Isn’t it amazing?”

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Now, let’s begin.

I started my journey with shaky hands, wearing broken in boots…

After 13 hours of flying, we landed in Israel. I was in the Holy Land. And my soul whispered, “you will feel at home here.”

My prayer is that you would have that same sense of feeling at home through these pictures, posts, and devotions. I can’t wait to relive this journey with you.

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