Lori Stanley Roeleveld's Blog, page 11

When It’s Easier Just to Fail

There are many ways to fail this side of glory.

Moral failure. Financial failure. Career. Marital. Parenting. Friendship.

Worst of all is heart failure. Not a sudden cardiac arrest of the soul but that gradual dulling of spiritual passion or zeal that tempts us all at one time or another.

At the end of the day, failure isn’t that hard. It’s simply a matter of releasing our grip on whatever we were clutching and sliding, sliding away until it’s just plain out of reach.

We do it with relationships that become complicated. With friends who insist on telling us hard truths. We do it with churches that ask us to participate or change or engage in worship that is less comfortable than what’s familiar or suggest we reduce our media consumption to make time to pray.

We do it when church gets hard because of conflict or discussions of discipline or outreach.

We do it with work we believe God called us to do but with all our prayers and efforts, we aren’t seeing the results we believed we’d see “if God was in it.” Our platform is too small. Not enough people are responding. Return on investment doesn’t make sense to anyone around us. Maybe we didn’t hear God correctly. Maybe God doesn’t care as much about results as we thought. Maybe, we should just let go and catch up on everything we’ve missed on Netflix.

We do it with prayer. God seems to answer other people’s prayers. That happened to us for a while, too, but now, it just seems like a rote exercise, a little empty and robotic. We must not be one of those “praying types.” Easy enough to let it go. Who’s to know? We can pray in church and in our small group and only God knows we’ve started getting an extra thirty minutes of sleep instead of interceding for the world.

We do it with morality, finances, and health because we accept the lie that a little slip up, a tiny indulgence here or there doesn’t matter. It’s what we deserve. We’ve earned that little bit of something by being so good for so long. And then, we deserve it again and it wasn’t as long between that time. After all, we only live once and didn’t God forgive David, after all?

We do it with talking with people about Jesus because no one’s listening these days, right? We’re so worried about being “that Christian,” that one that turns people off to Jesus, that the people in our lives outside of our inner circle have no idea we even know His name. We don’t have the “gift” of evangelism. We’d only make things worse. Maybe it doesn’t matter because God’s going to save who He saves, right? I don’t have answers to their hard questions and there’s nothing exciting about my testimony so I’m going to stop sweating it out.

It’s so easy to settle into heart failure.

I’ve been doing it myself, of late. Trying to make peace with giving up on ministries, goals, even some people, in order to buy myself some comfort. But, that’s a god of my own making, don’t you see?

That’s me making an idol of achievement and wanting to let go of all the things God presses me to strive for because it doesn’t look to anyone else as if I have a prayer of success. That’s me jumping on a boat to Tarshish because speaking to the Ninevites looks about as doable as sharing the gospel with the Hamas and walking away with success.

God has been calling me out. Out of my doldrums. Out of my spiritual languishing. Back to my knees. Back into the hard work of hope. Back to the work of being in relationships, not above them. Of being under His authority, not dodging it with religiously-coated excuses.

 Of being a child again with an open heart who dares to hope, to dream, to believe, to invest in others, to risk hurt, to risk skinned knees and disappointments, to try and fail and try again, to worship with my whole life, to love with my whole heart.

He is bringing my heart back into rhythm with His. Through prayer. Through His Word. Through the ministry of other believers willing to speak truth into my life.

And I know that means it’s not time to rest from my labors or to shift into neutral or to walk away from it all. It’s time to trust Him again. To do what He says. To invest in prayer, in His people, and in all those who still don’t know the joy that I know because the days are short and eternity is long, too long not to spend it with Him.

It’s time to refocus on faithfulness, obedience, and faith and remember that results rise and fall, this work has a long season and achievement is something He sorts out when we get home, not something to comfort or puff us up now. He is our comfort – not immediate results, not visible proof, not gratifying returns. Just Him.

After all these years of following Him, it’s humbling to confess how often my hold slips on the things that matter and I look down, thinking how easy it would be to let go. The truth is, He will never let go of me, even when He sees me ready to release my grasp on what matters to Him.

And then I remember I didn’t start this work to see results. I started it because He is about this work and with all my heart, I want to be with Him.

The results may not always be worth the effort, but He is always worthy of all.

When It's Easier Just to Fail https://t.co/lcABEMqhbM #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 27, 2021

Transform Your Life with Abundance-Based Faith

How often do we miss what is right in front of us?

This week, an old camera that one of the hosts from Antiques Road Show purchased for 60 euro sold at auction for 20,000 euro. The original owner had no idea what he had when he let it go for less than $75.

We often don’t understand the true value of what is already ours.

When I was newly married, I would sometimes pout with frustration at Rob or over a quarrel. That’s when I would look back in my journals from when I was single and reread all the times I asked God to send me a husband. That usually did the trick because it reminded me of the value of what was right in front of me.

Today, when I lifted up my eyes during my prayer time, I wondered how much I miss about what I have in Christ.

As much as I value my salvation, as much as I love Jesus, as much as I am grateful to be delivered from sin, I still don’t fully grasp everything I have in Jesus. I know this because if I did, I would spend much more of my day in worship and awe. I would fall silent more often than I do. My life would radiate the power of the living God unleashed in someone who truly appreciates what she owns in Christ.

The apostle Paul tried repeatedly to help us ordinary believers (those who haven’t been caught up to the third heaven!) grasp a fraction of the blessing that is ours in Jesus.

Paul understood that the more we appreciate what we have in Christ, the more our lives will demonstrate the resurrection power of Jesus, the transformative work of the Holy Spirit, the radiance of God.

In the first chapter of Ephesians, Paul outlines just a few of our blessings:

We have been blessed with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly placesWe were chosen from the foundation of the world to be holy and blameless in HimIn love, He predestined us to be adopted as sonsTo the praise of His glorious grace, with which He has blessed us in the Beloved.

Spiritual riches. Washed clean of sin. Set apart for God. Adopted into the family of the Living God. Recipients of grace.

And this was just three verses! Paul goes on because He hadn’t exhausted all that is ours in Jesus.

I once attended a wedding of the daughter of dear friends. The couple were clearly in love and you could see on the groom’s face how blessed he felt to be marrying this young woman.

At the end of the ceremony, the bride surprised her new husband with an old car – a favorite he once owned now restored by her father out of love for the new couple. I’ll never forget the groom’s face as he realized not only was he receiving a bride, but he was marrying into a family rich with love, thoughtfulness, and generosity! Blessing upon blessing was his because of this relationship. It’s been many years now and he’s still smiling!

Too often, I function from a deficit-focused faith. What do I lack? What do I need? What haven’t I done yet? Where am I failing?

I wonder what would happen if I operated, instead, from an abundance-based faith?

Peter and John were full of the Holy Spirit. They functioned from this fullness as evidenced by their statement to the lame man at the Beautiful Gate in Acts 3. The man was begging for alms as Peter and John arrived at the temple to pray. “And he fixed his attention on them, expecting to receive something from them.  But Peter said, ‘I have no silver and gold, but what I do have I give to you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk!’” Acts 3:5-6 ESV

What if I lived, not from my lack, but from my abundant blessing in Christ? How would my life look different? How would it impact my calendar, my bank account, my anxiety level, my prayer life, my testimony?

I plan to find out. How about you?

When I read Ephesians 1, I feel as if a race car expert is watching me drive my Ferrari one mile to the grocery store and back shaking his head wondering how and where I might drive if I only understood the power and excellence at my disposal.

Yes, when we are weak, He is strong, but in Christ, we don’t operate from our weakness but from His strength. Psalm 84:5-7 ESV says this, “Blessed are those whose strength is in you, in whose heart are the highways to Zion. As they go through the Valley of Baca they make it a place of springs; the early rain also covers it with pools. They go from strength to strength; each one appears before God in Zion.”

From strength to strength. As I navigate the next months of my life, crossing every torrential river and walking through every storm, I’m going to keep my eyes, not on the raging, drenching waters but on each rock God provides for my crossing, because each Rock is the Rock of Ages, my Lord, Jesus Christ.

We have everything we need for life and godliness. What if we lived as if we believed that? What do you think that would change?

Do I operate from my abundance in Christ or am I living a deficit-based faith? https://t.co/qC7t5c6Mzv #Jesus #Christianliving

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 21, 2021

Events are happening! People are beginning to gather! If you are considering an event at your church or planning a retreat, I’m booking engagements for the fall and spring! I’m fully vaccinated and ready to share God’s Word with the people at your event! There’s a lot of hesitancy and it can be nerve-wracking to plan a gathering right now. I can work with any budget (even if you have none!) and can help reduce your concern about planning in these times. Let me share the load. We’re in this together. Email me at lorisroel@gmail.com and we’ll begin the conversation.

What is the Work of an Evangelist?

Unity.

It’s a simple word.

It’s a concept people can get behind. Immediately, we appreciate the advantages of it. There is strength in numbers. There is peace in agreement.  Majorities make waves. There’s a certain security in group covenant.

The Psalmist agrees. “Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell in unity! It is like the precious oil on the head, running down on the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down on the collar of his robes! It is like the dew of Hermon, which falls on the mountains of Zion! For there the Lord has commanded the blessing, life forevermore.” Psalm 133 ESV

And yet, we can’t be afraid to stand alone. To buck the trend. To resist the prevailing culture. To state the truth even if that causes a divide.

Luke records Jesus’ startling statement in Luke 12:49-52 ESV “‘I came to cast fire on the earth, and would that it were already kindled! I have a baptism to be baptized with, and how great is my distress until it is accomplished! Do you think that I have come to give peace on earth? No, I tell you, but rather division.  For from now on in one house there will be five divided, three against two and two against three.’”

So, choosing Christ and asserting biblical truth may divide us from those who reject Him. But within the Body of Christ, Jesus calls us to maintain the unity we have in Him.

Jesus prayed for us in the hours before He was betrayed and said, “‘I do not ask for these only, but also for those who will believe in me through their word, that they may all be one, just as you, Father, are in me, and I in you, that they also may be in us, so that the world may believe that you have sent me. The glory that you have given me I have given to them, that they may be one even as we are one, I in them and you in me, that they may become perfectly one, so that the world may know that you sent me and loved them even as you loved me.’” John 17:20-23 ESV

The work of an evangelist, therefore, is to preach the gospel, but it is also to invest significant effort to maintain unity between brothers and sisters on this side of glory.

In the past weeks, I have seen influential Christians fall from grace, Bible teachers slandered and reviled over social media, celebrity Christians arrested for grievous sins, and the visible church divided to the point of public shaming and name calling over a vaccine, police and racism, or the political color of a home state.

I’ve experienced a variety of emotions about the conflicts and the compromise, ranging from judgment to anger to sorrow to shame. But as I brought these feelings to God and examined the thoughts that provoked them, He led to me to a new emotion – determination.

I am determined not to go down without a fight.

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” Ephesians 6:12 ESV

If standing on God’s truth divides us from those who reject God, there is nothing to fear from that. Whatever results is God’s business. He protects and He provides.

But we must determine to use every weapon at our disposal (weapons not of this world) to work through the issues that divide the Body of Believers with all the power of Christ. To maintain the unity of believers is to preach the gospel with our lives.

It is in Christ that all ethnicities find unity. It is where male and female find unity. It is where people of every class, economics, political persuasion, background, and philosophy find unity. There, kneeling at the cross, confessing Christ as Lord, we are one. And in that unity, Jesus is glorified.

He is worth every effort.

God, in His wisdom, adopts us into a family when He receives us through Jesus. A vast, sprawling, opinionated redeemed family in the messy process of sanctification. And surrounding us are those who only think they know Jesus. And still others who know they don’t believe but show up for the company. And still others with darker motives. The visible church and the true believers. The wheat and the tares.

The wheat needs to continue to grow to maturity despite the effort of the tares to choke it out. Be wheat. Sink our roots in the soil. Rise toward the Son. Receive the raindrops of blessing. And keep growing.

Don’t wilt at the presence of tares. Dare to grow.

Growing up in Christ entails knowing our Bibles – the whole story of Jesus from Genesis to Revelation. Really determining what we believe to be true about our God. Submitting to sound teaching. Living in obedience to what we understand. Acting NOW on God’s commands. Resisting evil. Standing firm through trial. Being quick to listen, slow to speak, and slow to anger.

And refusing to give up on one another. Leaning into the conflict – not slinking away in fear or cooling our hearts in apathy. Following Christ requires courage. We must call out cowardice in our mirrors, confess it at the cross, repent of it at the temptation to retreat to any dark corner, and ask for bold Christ-centered confidence to look complexity, disagreement, and hard topics in the eye saying, Bring it on, in the name of Jesus. We will persevere, laying aside every word that doesn’t serve the unity that is ours in Christ.

We will be unpopular together. We will be misunderstood side-by-side. We will rise, not in popularity, but on the wings of the Holy Spirit.

Turn Satan’s tactic back on Satan. Let every disagreement sent to divide and discourage fuel your determination to press on toward the prize in Christ Jesus.

What say you?

 

You’re invited to join me in the coming weeks as I return to my roots as a student of God’s Word and share thoughts on applying biblical truth to daily life and current events in a series of videos. They will appear first in my Facebook group, Invisible Christians Unite (I.C.U.) and sometime later, I will post them to YouTube. I’d love to have you come along and add to the conversation!

What does unity have to do with the gospel?https://t.co/MHevlUqkgV #Jesus #evangelism

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 12, 2021

The Audacity of a Shared Meal

I invited myself over for dinner at a friends’ home.

I’m not normally one to barge in but it was the first warm evening in a long time. I’d been at a women’s retreat and had enjoyed singing God’s praises with other women for the first time in forever. And it just seemed like too perfect a night not to share a meal with friends.

Now, I was prepared to invite the friends to enjoy a meal on my front porch, but they live on the water and she’s an incredible cook and she’s often spoken of cooking way too much for two but feeling it was too late to invite anyone over, so I took a chance.

Jackpot! Not only was I welcome (along with my mortified husband), but we were also able to visit with another friend already scheduled to visit and share a wonderful evening of great food, stories, deep conversation, and laughter.

This is a good friend. She was unflummoxed by the last-minute call. She laughed at my husband’s initial discomfort, quickly dispensed with at the warm welcome by their dogs and the first taste of cheese with crackers. She’d already made plenty of food. And her hospitality was simple, elegant, and appeared effortless (although I am sure it was not).

There is a verse in Revelation that I adore. Revelation 3:20 says, “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and dine with him, and he with Me.” This is Jesus.

The breaker of bread. The attender of feasts. The welcome guest. The God who sits on high but who enters in to share a meal. The God who sees, who listens, who loves like a friend. The God Almighty who calls us, not servants, but friends.

“No longer do I call you servants, for the servant does not know what his master is doing; but I have called you friends, for all that I have heard from my Father I have made known to you.” John 15:15 ESV. Words He spoke during the last supper with His apostles before His crucifixion. He spoke with them as friends.

The God of all Creation, Master of the Universe, All-powerful, All-mighty God, became one of us, pulled a chair up to the table, and dipped a piece of bread into our shared oil. He knew how dangerous we were. That we would always choose sin, faithlessness, denial, and betrayal. He knew behind our backs we held signs that read “Crucify” and hidden in our belts were a hammer and nails.

But, His love was so great, He pulled us even closer to Him, made us laugh with His stories and think with His parables – calling to our greater angels and binding the strongman who held us captive to stale bread and water as He filled our cups into the best wine.

Jesus, so certain of His Father, so sure of God’s plan determined at the foundation of time, so confident of the triumph that lay beyond the cross, He drew us to Him and loved us deeper, even though it was His shoulders on which would fall the Father’s wrath due to us because of our sin.

He looked us in the eyes. He held our hands. He ate our bread, shared our board, and stared up at the stars beside us with the clatter of dishes being cleared in the background. He loved us completely.

And then He died at the hands of our sin to provide us with eternal life.

After He was resurrected, after His suffering and His death, once He was risen to new life, again, He ate with us again. He delighted Himself to walk with two travelers on the road to Emmaus, them not recognizing the risen Christ.

He taught them what the Scriptures had taught about the Messiah from Moses through the prophets, and they were so entranced, they begged Him to stay – and He did. He entered their home, shared their table, and when He broke the bread, their eyes were open, and they recognized the Lord.

And He met His fishing disciples on their beach. When they returned from their labors, He was there with a charcoal fire, fish, and bread. He said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” And once again, their eyes were opened.

So, I guess I want to ask you today is have you invited Jesus to sit at your table and eat? Have you let Him come close enough to call you friend, to be in Your home, and to sit beside a fire with you on the beach over grilled fish and warm rolls?

We’ve had such an extended separation from shared meals that surely a piece of hearts went into lockdown. Sure, many of us found ways to meet virtually and that was a handy substitute, but it didn’t allow for the intimacy of a passed plate, an awkward silence, shared star-gazing, or laughter at the antics of a thieving dog licking at an unattended cheese plate.

Is your relationship with Jesus more like a virtual visit or like sitting with a friend close enough, you could invite yourself over for dinner and be welcomed with open arms?

His desire is for that face-to-face, bread dipped in the shared oil, enjoying the fire and silence relationship. His friendship is not reserved for the Moses’ among us. It is available for every Peter, John, James, and Joe Christian among us. Or Joan. Or Nikita. Or Song. Or Lashonda. Or Hector. Or Tien.

He stands at the door and knocks. The One through whom all things were created. The One whose idea was hot coffee, warm bread, fresh vegetables, and grilled fish. The One who created starry nights, firelight, crickets, peepers, and storytelling. This One who laid down His life for us. He stands at the door and knocks.

Go ahead. Invite Him in.

The Audacity of a Shared Meal https://t.co/Db1nMDp9UD #Jesus #pandemicproblems

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 4, 2021

When the Church is Weak, Is God Still Strong?

If you haven’t struggled with the happenings of 2020 and now 2021, you haven’t been paying attention.

It’s been a rough fourteen months for all of us. And a powerful time of testing for the American church.

The Devil’s Schemes

When conflict rages, it’s so important for us to remember how our enemy operates (I’m speaking of the spiritual realm).

Initially, the enemy uses deception –  outright lies and half-truths – to keep people from entering a relationship with Christ.

When that doesn’t work, he switches mode and works to render us ineffective or joyless in our faith. Remember, he is a thief and he comes only to kill, steal, and destroy.

In stark contrast, Jesus came to give us abundant life. And He does.

So, the enemy sends trouble. He may devise specific trouble, or he may capitalize on the trouble we create with our own sin or that comes as a result of living in a fallen world.

And in the midst of the trouble, Satan accuses us – to one another and even to ourselves. Sounds like 2020 to me.

Pre-warned

James warns us about this and says, “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” James 1:2-4 ESV

Peter also warns that we should not be surprised when we encounter “fiery trials.” You should stop reading this blog post and read that passage in full, but especially focus on these verses “But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rests upon you. But let none of you suffer as a murderer or a thief or an evildoer or as a meddler.” 1 Peter 4:13-15 ESV

In other words, don’t allow trials to collapse your faith but allow God to use them to continue His work in you.

If you’ve harbored sin and are suffering for that – repent. If you suffer solely for Jesus’ name – rejoice. God hasn’t permitted these trials for your destruction because it’s the enemy who destroys – God brings life. He has permitted these trials for your ultimate good and for His glory.

Tough Training for Tougher Times

When I was actively practicing karate, I was often frustrated with our sensei’s methods.

Sometimes he would ask us to spar one another from our weaker side. Inevitably, someone would complain. “But, I’m right handed! I can’t fight from the left.” We’d groan because that opened a door for a lecture about how attackers don’t fight fair. Everyone has weaknesses. We must learn, not to trust in our strength, but to rely on our training. If a student admitted they were planning to baby their sore left foot that night, we’d have endless left sided kicking drills. Someone complained of a sore shoulder, we’d do shoulder-level conditioning drills – you get the point.

As irritating as it was, he was right, and his training methods were effective.

The church has weaknesses. The church develops sore spots and wounds. The enemy attacks in those places. But, God sends training to help us rely – not on our own strength, but on the power of the Holy Spirit at work in us.

We do well to allow the voices of Peter, James, and the Holy Spirit to ring louder in our ears than news anchors or influencers on social media. The past months have been an assault of relentless trial – pandemic, protests, politics, riots, racism, closed churches, mass shootings, fallen Christian leaders, #metoochurch, school indoctrination, gender fluidity, and the general inertia brought about by lockdowns.

It’s been brutal, but here’s the thing – we were made, like Christ, to rise up from the mats after beatings, after mocking, after betrayal, after abandonment, even after death.

Don’t be taken in by the magnitude of these recent assaults. Ignore those who whisper or announce that the church is on its last legs. Refuse to listen to the scoffers and the mockers. They laughed at Jesus on the cross.

Cooperate with the Training

It’s also important, though, to lean into what God has for us in the trials and hardships.

Take the correction where correction was needed. Have we grown lazy in our faith? Taken fellowship for granted? Forgotten our calling is to live lives that lead others to thirst after righteousness?

Did we think some other Christians were going to address hatred, racism, and God’s perspective on sex and gender? Are we so focused on taking stands we’ve become unloving? Are we so afraid of looking unloving, we’re neglecting to speak the truth?

And are we relying on circumstances to tell us who we are or are we so embedded with Christ that nothing can shake or deter us from fulfilling our calling in Him?

If we lean into the training and listen for His correction, direction, and reflection, we grow despite the challenges sent our way. Like a tiny seedling breaking through a granite boulder or a dandelion cracking pavement, we discover strength as we deepen our roots and seek the light of Christ.

Let us not give in to fear. Neither let us give up gathering together or proclaiming the truth of Christ.

Yes, in many ways these past months have weakened us, or at least uncovered existing weaknesses. But we have nothing to fear because God remains steadfast and strong. Lean into Him and say along with the Apostle Paul, “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:10 ESV

When the church is weak, is God still strong? https://t.co/LajG3uuCoN #faith #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) April 22, 2021

What to Do When Your Life is on Fire

I grew up knowing exactly what to do if my clothes caught fire. Stop. Drop. And roll.

With all the emphasis of this practice, I fully expected that at some point, surely before I turned sixty, some piece of clothing would spontaneously combust.  I have spent much less time than I anticipated in contact with open flames.

What was lacking in my early education was the much more useful and more frequently needed counsel on what to do when my life was on fire! Fortunately, God has clued me in on that remedy.

Stop. Drop. And reflect.

As we read through the Bible, modern readers must be struck by how often God led the nation of Israel to pause so they could recap what had just taken place. God instituted feasts and celebrations, Jubilee years, and a weekly Sabbath, so that reflection was woven into the life every God-focused person.

Previous generations lived lives that provided more opportunity to pause and consider events. Walking, sitting by fires, cooking by scratch, hanging laundry, rocking on porches, reading, sewing, or playing musical instruments were all activities that allowed for time to think.

We may do these activities now, but they’re usually accompanied by podcasts, news alerts, notifications, tweets, updates, and twenty-four-hour news channels. Media pours information into us so quickly we’ve come to believe it’s normal to run on information overload. Even if the media is Christian radio, podcasts, sermons, and Christian talk shows, too much of anything overloads our wiring and pushes us to spontaneous life combustion.

Stop. Drop. And reflect. Pause all the noise. Drop to your knees before God. Consider your life.

There are some fairly effortless ways to weave this into our days. I’ve been exploring them in the past several years. Finding that simple practices embraced become foundational habits that support a depth of life that prevents existential fires and spiritual meltdowns.

D.A. Carson wrote, “People do not drift toward Holiness. Apart from grace-driven effort, people do not gravitate toward godliness, prayer, obedience to Scripture, faith, and delight in the Lord.” These opportunities for daily, weekly, monthly, and “occasional” reflection are simple ways to realign life before it gets too far off track.

Daily walks. These can be as short as 20 minutes or as long as your schedule can tolerate. I begin each day walking an hour on my treadmill, but it can be done at noon or at day’s end. I spend at least a portion of each walk with no incoming media or music. I simply invite God to consider the upcoming day with me, praying through concerns or over people who come to mind.Observing a Sabbath. From sundown to sunset the next day, observe the day of rest. Worship. Fellowship with God’s people. Enjoy a book, a nap, a leisurely stroll, a fireside chat, or a hike in the forest. Reflect on the week before. Consider the week ahead. Invite God’s perspective on your priorities.Calendar Contemplation. I use a planner designed with space for monthly reflection on major happenings of the previous month. This reflection takes about fifteen minutes but it’s a great check in for keeping me on track. My weekly schedule is something I undertake seriously and prayerfully. I create an “ideal” template which includes time for prayer/Bible study/rest/worship/and walking. This template keeps me honest when I look at my commitments and to-do list for the coming days.“Occasional” Recaps. I also use occasions to draw simple timelines and remind myself what has transpired in the past year, five years, or decade. This past weekend I turned sixty. That felt like a “wow” birthday. It’s been a decade of extreme transitions, so I wrote a brief reflection. It was a worthwhile exercise that increased my appreciation for the good God brought about and for all that He can pack into a short time. I share it here to inspire you to do the same.

Do you want to prevent your own life from going up in flames? I urge you today, to Stop. Drop. And reflect.

Reflection on a decade: To say the years from 50-60 were eventful is like saying the moon is a handy nightlight. I’ve had gains and losses, travels and lockdowns.

Highlights: Graduating our youngest from homeschool, college, and into the world and becoming her friend. Graduating our oldest from college and enjoying his friendship. Meeting (and adoring) our oldest’s true love. Falling in love with our first two grandsons who arrived with her. Watching my son embrace step-fatherhood, find his calling, and become an adult I rely on as a friend. Enjoying every minute of having creative, funny, kind grandsons who are now 12 and 14! Yikes. Dancing at our daughter’s wedding, loving her husband who we’ve known since he was 14, merging families who are old friends, and welcoming our third grandson (first one from a starter kit). Watching my girl step into womanhood with grace and realize so many of her dreams, including a farm.

Helping my dad through his major life transitions – first into retirement and then all the way home to Jesus. Hours and hours of this decade with him sitting at the fire station or in the living room, listening to stories, laughing, watching M.A.S.H, and creating memories.

Launching two careers simultaneously – one out of necessity and service (helping families in crisis) and one out of calling – publishing four books, working on number five, and speaking across the country. Adding a third career (coaching) during COVID! Coming home to the church where I grew up.

Enjoying the deepening and strengthening of a marriage that had some rough years but now has hit its stride. Watching my husband find his calling in craftsmanship and woodwork. Rob creating a writing room for me in the middle of his restoration project.

Meeting and ministering alongside so many incredible writers, speakers, pastors, editors, agents, publishers. Meeting and interacting with many amazing Christian men and women through speaking and through the blog. It was fun to meet some celebrities, but my best memories are the men and women working everyday ordinary lives to testify to the truth of Jesus.

Winning awards. Receiving promotions. Impacting families so they can stay together and be stronger. The support of firefighter friends through the worst moments of my life. The deepening of lasting friendships.

Gaining confidence. Losing fear. Gaining insight. Losing insecurity. Gaining momentum, perspective, and everyday joy. Finding my voice. Losing the need to please everyone.

Lowlights: Facing loss. Experiencing life-altering trauma. Drastic changes in loved ones. Dad’s diagnosis. Dad’s accident. Rob’s MS diagnosis. Losing family. Financial strain. Friends moving out of state or home to glory. Moving into Rob’s restoration project (still missing a lot of ceilings and walls). Gaining 50 pounds through life and stress. Surviving a pandemic. The shutdown of all speaking events. The growing divide in our nation. The spiritual battle facing the church. Losing Mojo and laying Rascal to rest. Whew!

But there is this – Jesus has been present and faithful through it all.

And now 60: While this feels like quite a number, I still have so much to learn and to do, so many people to love, so much to say.

I feel like this is a great decade to lighten up – lose the stress weight, sort through the possessions, let go of all that weighs me down and holds me back from stepping fully into the freedom Jesus secured for me on the cross, laugh more, and release what I cannot control.

A decade to use every breath and every opportunity to testify to the truth of Christ, to His relentless love, to His faithfulness, and to the certainty that He will return to take us home.

A decade to walk unhurried with God into the next chapter with the man I love, children who are our friends, grandchildren who bring us joy, and friends walking the same road toward God’s great heart, our home. And to be a beacon, a signpost, a voice in the wilderness to all who are walking a wider road that does not lead home.

“Therefore do not throw away your confidence, which has a great reward. For you have need of endurance, so that when you have done the will of God you may receive what is promised. For, ‘Yet a little while, and the coming one will come and will not delay; but my righteous one shall live by faith, and if he shrinks back, my soul has no pleasure in him.’ But we are not of those who shrink back and are destroyed, but of those who have faith and preserve their souls.” Hebrews 10:35-39

And now – onward.

  Tell me friend. Reflect on your last decade and share it in the comments below. Stop. Drop. And reflect.

What to do when your life is on fire! Stop. Drop. And reflect. https://t.co/lHvAFwGsB8 #Jesus #leadership

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) April 15, 2021

How to Hold onto Faith

Why do people deconstruct their faith and how do those who hold onto faith hold on?

Disappointment in the church.

Frustration with God.

Unanswered prayer.

Confusing theology.

Scripture out of context.

Rumors that God loves genocide and maybe hates your child who is questioning his sexuality.

That one preacher assuring Oprah that Hell doesn’t exist.

Politics.

A friend walks away from faith and is doing fine.

Personal failure.

Church split.

Boredom. (God never speaks to me. I’ve never seen a miracle. Maybe I just don’t get it.)

All kinds of reasons to question or walk away from faith. Many do. Some slip away quietly, almost unnoticed while others merit headlines, magazine covers, book deals, podcasts, blogs, and social media coverage granting them celebrity status.

Still, some of us face all these challenges and we stay. 

No one lines up to interview us and ask why we’re keeping our faith. We don’t awaken and update our status to say, “Hey world, it’s a new day and I’ve chosen Jesus again!” But, we do.

Why? How? What makes the difference between those who keep the faith and those who walk away? What is the alternative to deconstructing our faith?

There are likely as many answers as there are people, but here are some things I do when the church lets me down, when Christians disappoint, when God feels distant, or when faith-life feels impossible:

Examine expectations:

G.K. Chesterton once said, “The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting. It has been found difficult; and left untried.” Early in my faith life, I absorbed a message about Christianity that was more like a Coke commercial – “Jesus will make everything better.” That false belief led to much frustration on my part until I deconstructed it and realized it wasn’t based on what Jesus actually promised.

Jesus promised that in this world we would have trouble. He said that we would be hated by others like He was. Peter warns us not to be surprised when we face fiery trials of all kinds. Elsewhere in the New Testament we’re warned that wolves will infiltrate the flock, that false teachers will abound, that Satan is a roaring lion, and that as we near the end of the age, people’s love will grow cold.

Those aren’t fun facts but it’s reality. My college professor would always tell us “The facts are our friends,” because even when they are unpleasant, they orient us to reality. If soldiers arrived at boot camp thinking they’d won a holiday at a resort, many would not survive boot camp. They survive the rigors of training because they expect it to be difficult. Mindset makes a difference. Equipping ourselves and others with realistic expectations about the life of faith will create a mindset that holds one during trial. We aren’t home yet, loved ones.

Rally conviction:

In the 2011 film Seven Days in Utopia (which I highly recommend), Luke Chisolm is a young pro golfer who has lost his game. He meets an eccentric rancher, Johnny Crawford, who was once in Luke’s golf shoes and who promises to help him find his lost game. His first assignment is to write down why he does everything he does – from the way he holds his club to the way he sees the path of the ball. “The first step in finding your game is getting some conviction. If you don’t have conviction your confidence can be corroded.”

Do we know what we believe and why? When someone laughs at the idea that Jesus raised from the dead, what understanding do we fall back on? When someone says God hates women, why do we know they’re wrong? When another says that God is unfair or that the disciples concocted a new religion based on a lie or that the Bible is full of inconsistencies, how do we know they’re in error?

Luke wrote his gospel so that his friend, Theophilus should “know the certainty of those things in which you were instructed.” Reinforce the certainty of all you’ve been taught. When you’re not certain of something, lean into that, not away. Pursue certainty. There is much to be had in the life of faith. This is our life we’re talking about and the lives of others. It’s worth the investment of time to explore and be certain of what we know. If we let fear back us away from that, we’ve already set the stage for a crisis of faith. There is nothing to fear because God is the truth.

Deconstruct experience:

We are a generation that relies heavily on our own experience of life. That’s not all bad but it is when it goes unexamined. Any one painful trial we encounter can feel like an event that defines us, the world, and even life itself – in the moment. Our experience can feel like the last word on anything – until.

Until we set in the context of our entire lives. Until we listen to the experiences of others who may have a different perspective. Until we set our experience in the context of world and church history. Until we view our experience in the context of biblical truth and in light of eternity. Until we view it through the lens of healing.

Helen Roseveare, a life-long medical missionary, was as passionate about Jesus in her eighties as she was when she met Him in college, despite having suffered capture and brutal assault during a rebellion in the African country she’d been called to serve in His name. Someone asked her once if what serving Christ in Africa cost her was worth it. You’re asking the wrong question, she replied. What I ask is Christ worthy of it all and to that, my answer is yes.

Helen didn’t dismiss her diminish her own pain. Instead, she viewed it through a greater context than that single moment in an eternal story and this helped her hold onto faith when others may have walked away. In deconstructing our experience, we don’t dismiss it, we honor it, but we also examine it in a greater context.

Those are just three actions we can take to hold onto faith when we’re up against the wall of hardship, doubt, or relentless trial. What steps do YOU take to hold on?

(This is part two of a series. Read part one “Is Deconstructing My Faith Our Only Option?” HERE.

How to Hold onto Faith https://t.co/o2qnPXk2Gg #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) April 6, 2021

The post How to Hold onto Faith first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

Is Deconstructing My Faith Our Only Option?

The church of Jesus Christ can be a terrible let down.

Everyone from immature or backslidden believers, false teachers, outright wolves, and misguided yet well-intentioned souls can create pain and sorrow in the lives of other Christians.

Everything from boredom to legalism, deception to downright abuse can occur to dishearten even a long-term Christian. And one option when this pain comes is to deconstruct our faith, denounce all we once held dear, walk away from Christ altogether or at least, reimagine what following Him looks like – usually apart from a traditional faith community.

The media adores deconstructionists.

They make for provocative interviews.

They often raise great questions and highlight areas where some parts of the church require attention, correction, or repentance.

Unfortunately, they can also present escape into deconstruction as the only viable, self-respecting option for people facing pain or disappointment in the church.

Deconstructionists are easy poster children for people with agendas, but we should be careful about treating them as anything other than eternal souls loved by God, struggling with life’s great questions.

How to Respond When People Deconstruct Their Faith

Jesus loves people who are deconstructing their faith. His love doesn’t stop because they are asking questions or seeking other answers or denouncing biblical teaching. And neither should ours.

To approach those engaging in deconstruction with judgment or condemnation is to represent ourselves and our insecurity, not our God.

But, those of us who have experienced pain in the church – hardship, disappointment, betrayal, false teaching, deception, and even abuse – but have chosen to remain – should also speak up about the path we’ve chosen and why.

I have experienced deep wounds from other Christians. Not just once, but many times in the over fifty-five years I’ve been a believer.

Like the pastor who violated the sanctity of private counseling sessions and shared my personal struggles publicly during a church conflict.

Or the time I led a church youth group, built it into a sizable ministry, created a job for a youth group leader and was then informed by the church elders that I would be ineligible for the job because I’m a woman.

Or the spiritual director I turned to for support during a devastating time in my life who only wanted to talk about himself and ask me to advise him about his problems with the same person who hurt me.

I’ve experienced church splits, divisions over music, leaders hiding moral failure, and relentless debates over women’s roles. I’ve witnessed people hurt one another over small differences like the order of service and great divides like we’ve seen in this last presidential election.

I’ve been exhausted, worn out, and dragged down by prolonged church debates, foot-dragging over minor changes, covert sexism, racism, and nationalism, and by people using Bible verses to clobber one another emotionally. I’ve seen brutal legalism and rabid licentiousness each devastate individuals and congregations.

Why do some people stay in the church after being let down?

Have I been tempted to deconstruct my faith? Absolutely. And yet, as I approach the age of sixty, here I stand – for today, anyway, by grace. Continuing in the faith I received on my knees as a child when I responded to the altar call in a televised Billy Graham Crusade.

Have I considered other faiths? Of course. Have I ever considered walking away from faith all together? Maybe once. Has it ever crossed my mind to give up on local churches and just take my spiritual life virtual? It has.

What makes the difference between someone who witnesses or experiences wounds, disappointments, and disagreements in the church who chooses to deconstruct her faith and one who remains engaged?

If I were to believe those telling their deconstructing stories, it may be because I haven’t examined my faith or that my social construct is built around a particular faith community and it would cost me too much to walk away.

Perhaps I’ve been brainwashed by the patriarchy or I have an unenlightened approach to God and to Scripture. Some would guess I am unaware of science, changes in sociology, or out of touch with today’s headlines because I’ve immersed myself so far into Christian culture, I can’t find my way out.

Others would wager I am more committed to religion or denomination than I am to Christ, I’ve been deceived by the devil, or I carry on a lazy faith. Some would speculate that I have a low IQ, haven’t really read my Bible, or am rigid and judgmental by nature.

Obviously, I don’t believe they would be right on any of those counts.

I can’t speak for those who walk away from Christ or from a biblically grounded expression of faith. I can’t speak for those deconstructing their faith. I can only say what I’ve done when devastating experiences tested either my understanding of God or my relationship with the Christian community.

Of course, I have left some churches. I have opted not to sit under certain leaders or to commit to certain denominations because of differences I have with their teaching or with their practice. Still, I haven’t chosen to abandon my faith, reimagine my theology, or to denounce Jesus as the only way to salvation.

I’ll discuss what I have done in my next post.

As a preview let me just say I believe it has to do with acknowledging but then deconstructing my pain over my faith and believing the parts of the Bible that clearly warn the church will fall short, but that Jesus prevails.

More on that next post.

What about you?

How do you respond when celebrity Christians walk away or when you read interviews with everyday believers who are deconstructing their Christian faith and proclaiming it as freedom?

Have you experienced pain or let down in the church? How did you respond? What steps or stages did you go through and how is it that you have held on to Christ and remained engaged with His church?

Why, do you think, is it easier to publicly discuss leaving the faith then it is to discuss remaining engaged with it?

Let’s begin a conversation. Holding onto faith is not going to get any easier. Let’s learn to talk about holding on.

Is Deconstructing My Faith Our Only Option?https://t.co/KxsObkP8Z3 #deconstruction #faith

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) March 24, 2021

The post Is Deconstructing My Faith Our Only Option? first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

The Unpleasant but Effective Remedy for Unbelief

You walk into the home where you grew up.

Every smell, every piece of furniture, every painting, every carpet is as familiar to you as the whiff of your father’s cologne.

Bringing back memories of the man who chased monsters from beneath your bed, taught you to stand up to bullies because he had your back, and weeded out young men who lacked sufficient backbone or commitment to you to withstand his glare.

The man who raised you over his head so you felt you could fly and brought you comics and ginger ale from the corner store when you weren’t well.

But today there’s the strangeness of a hospital bed plopped with no thought to aesthetics in the center of the living room.

And the TV blares his favorite crime drama but he’s not really tuned in where he lies beneath the covers of the bed, his body barely making a bump in the thin covers.

And as you stand over him, wetting his lips with a sponge from the tray laden with vials of morphine, gauze, cards from church, and a cup of water, you realize how vital it is to you suddenly –

this belief in eternity, this confidence that the prayers of a sinner, a confession of Christ, a life lived in surrender to Jesus will mean that your father is just standing in the doorway of a passage to wholeness, to healing, and to a place where one day, you will see him again.

What we believe in the light, in the summer of our days, when we are blessed and all around us the world is right – must stand true in the dark, when winter takes hold, and death exhales its hot breath over the transom like a dragon coming to claim that which we most hold dear.

What is more dangerous than the world’s unbelief? It’s the unbelief of the believer.

But how do we recognize unbelief when we’ve become so accustomed to the right words, the right responses, the right emotions that often we even fool ourselves?

If it was easy, everyone would do it.

First, it means leaning into trials and hardships rather than gritting our teeth, closing our eyes, and holding on until they pass. It means that in these trials, we stare unbelief in the face and ask God to build our faith even in the face of doubt, fear, and uncertainty.

It means we don’t shy away from the training He provides through barriers to overcome, knotty situations to address, and times of walking by faith through dark and lonely valleys. It means we work through, not around. It means laying bare before Him our immaturity, our faltering faith, our quaking knees, our petty gripes, and our questioning hearts, trusting His character and His love to sort us out like He did with the writers of every Psalm.

Second, it means reading God’s Word for ourselves and admitting what we don’t understand but refusing to stop there. It means digging deeper. Applying what we can accept, trying what we can see by faith is our next move, and getting help when we know we can’t unravel a complex passage on our own.

It means living the words we read and when we get them wrong, trying again. It means risking skinning the knees of our theology against the reality of living it and speaking it aloud, bumping into other Christians flailing about with their own attempts at holy life, and running hard into the very unsaved people God calls us to love and serve even if we walk away with a bloody nose.

Third, it means declining to get our understanding of our neighbors and fellow Jesus-lovers from the headline news, from Twitter feed, or from snapshots of life’s greatest hits on their wish-ta-grams. It means ignoring celebrities, talking heads, and the global masses long enough to invest our time knowing a few humans up close –

close enough to bring casserole to funerals, give rides to chemo, rock babies for napping mums, and teach new dads to turn off their phones and play a game with their toddlers.

It means giving up a summer to travel someplace uncomfortable and new to bring medical supplies we take for granted, to be laughed at by native speakers as we stumble over words their infants know, and to trust that putting an authentic face to God means not flinching when we share their meal served in a communal bowl.

It means getting excited, getting dirty, getting wrinkled, getting burned, getting hurt, getting close, and getting up every time we get it wrong to try again until we get the loving thing right, in Jesus’ name.

Increasing our belief doesn’t happen on our butts in the pew. Addressing unbelief seldom occurs skimming a verse on our Bible app over toast.

 Knowing what we really believe and not just what we nearly believe happens in the fire and flame of church conflict, of unexpected death, of confrontation and commotion, of looking chaos in the eye and choosing to create anyway.  Every time we walk away and choose to hide from these opportunities, our hearts harden just a bit until they are as stiff and unyielding as a baseball glove forgotten in the back of a boyhood toybox.

The unbelief of believers is a danger to the world and a sorrow to our own souls, but it is not without remedy.

Take one step forward today. Open your Bible and choose to live the verse you read. Stop dodging that problem you’ve feared and instead, face it head on with the Almighty.

And when death causes you to catch your breath and wonder if what you believe is true, don’t swat the thought away like a gnat. Tell God to help your unbelief and then lean into the opportunity for growth He brings your way.

What's more dangerous than the unbelief of the world? The unbelief of believers. But, there's a remedy! https://t.co/oxbXOjrLlY #Jesus #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) March 17, 2021

The post The Unpleasant but Effective Remedy for Unbelief first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.

A Greater Danger than the World’s Unbelief (part 1 – the problem)

Every writer has an ideal reader. Mine is you.

Every writer has a message. Mine is this: don’t stop believing.

No, I haven’t been listening to my old Journey albums and I apologize if that song is now stuck in your head, but actually, I don’t. Let that one phrase echo in your mind today because your belief matters.

I hear it all the time lately that the unbelief of the world is setting us on a dangerous course. The unbelief of the world is destructive. The unbelief of the world is a barrier to all that humanity can be.

There’s a greater danger than the unbelief of the world. It’s the unbelief of believers.

Don’t pretend it’s not a thing.

We all wrestle with unbelief. It’s a cousin to doubt but really, it’s a different animal.

You see, it’s vital to humanity that we not only believe IN God, but that we believe God. We trust what He says. And we act on what He says out of that foundation of trust. Our enemy works overtime to entice us into unbelief.

Why does it matter so much?

It doesn’t take much faith to know that when a building is engulfed with flames, we must act to save the people inside. We don’t even hesitate to pull the fire alarm and urge people toward the doors.

But when we sense the building is threatened by invisible, noxious gas, we hesitate. Is that the odor of gas or are we imagining – overreacting? Should we evacuate? Call the fire department?

We rely on CO detectors, as well we should, to confirm our own senses. Even then though, we may waiver in belief of the detector – how old is it, does it just need batteries? What kind of fool will we look like if we pull the alarm and it turns out we’re wrong? But what if all the signs are right? What if we still hesitate, wait for symptoms to appear? We could dither ourselves into unconsciousness before we’ve alerted another soul.

Many of us approach evangelism the way we do a whiff of gas in a room. Even with the training we’ve received through God’s Word and the alarm bell of the Holy Spirit sounding off inside that time is growing shorter, we wait for our own eyes to confirm what already know. Afraid of looking like fools if we rile people up without cause. Wouldn’t want to be accused of overreacting.

But it’s worse than that. It’s worse because we ensure that we have a clear path to the exit. We accept Christ and we’re standing by the door watching for His appearance, but the undertow of our remaining unbelief renders us silent to warn the others inside. What kind of love is that? It’s love bound with unbelief.

This is why the writer of Hebrews employs such strong, colorful language in Hebrews 3:13-14 ESV “Take care, brothers, lest there be in any of you an evil, unbelieving heart, leading you to fall away from the living God. But exhort one another every day, as long as it is called ‘today,’ that none of you may be hardened by the deceitfulness of sin. For we have come to share in Christ, if indeed we hold our original confidence firm to the end.”

How do we know if unbelief is creeping into our walk with Christ? If unbelief swaggered up and offered us a warm embrace, most of us would back away, knowing it was a trap.

So, unbelief courts us slowly, nibbles at our faith in small bites, and inhabits us in stages – like a creeping paralysis. We must be watchful and aware of the signs.

The writer of Hebrews indicates that what we hear, and the state of our hearts demonstrate the state of our belief.

Do we still hear God’s voice? I’m not talking about an audible experience. Does God’s Word still speak to us? Move us? Impact us in a way that spurs us to act, think, or feel differently? Or is our reading and studying stale, cold, remote, removed from the rest of our day?

Do we hear God’s voice clearly through sermons, podcasts, or daily reading but delay action because we have a to-do list and that particular command isn’t on it? One day, I’ll pray more. One day, I’ll share the gospel with that co-worker. One day, I’ll see if there’s something I can do to help with racial reconciliation. One day, I’ll give more generously.

We can one-day ourselves into a wilderness of unbelief until we find we’ve wandered ourselves into silly circles for forty years – always studying, never applying. Always listening, never speaking. Always understanding but never acting.

Have we hardened our hearts against the wonder of our initial belief in Christ and called it maturity? Did we allow our unanswered prayers, a faithless leader, or the drudgery of daily obedience to dull our spiritual senses, muffle our sense of wonder, and create a foothold for unbelief?

Many of us have.

It’s not too late. We can confess, repent, and ask God to soften our hearts. There are steps we can take. Steps I’ll outline in my next post.

Until then, let’s not delay. Let’s ask God right now to reveal any areas of unbelief, any hardening of heart, any move in the direction of that wilderness heading nowhere that is a loss of unbridled belief in Him.

And then, let’s listen to what He says and inhale deeply of the mind-clearing, soul-reviving oxygen of Heaven.

What's more dangerous than the unbelief of the world? One thing. https://t.co/JUydaR4eju #Jesus #Christianity

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) March 4, 2021

The post A Greater Danger than the World’s Unbelief (part 1 – the problem) first appeared on Lori Stanley Roeleveld . . . Disturber of Hobbits.