Lori Stanley Roeleveld's Blog, page 26

What If I Can’t Make You Happy? (A Word for Survivors and Those Experiencing Depression)

And what if I can’t make you happy?

What if with all my face on the floor, kneeling at my bedside, screaming in the car alone, waking in the night terrified, scripture-informed, spirit-filled, in Jesus’ name intercession you still can’t find the strength to hold on

and you let go?

What if I have to survive you?

What if all the questions that accuse me in the dark or when I first wake, all the wondering about what I could have done, could have done better, sooner, more often, right the first time, perfectly, in the power of Jesus, with more love, with more strength, with better limits, firmer tones, softer voice, clearer expectations, eyes wide open, more forgiving, tougher love –

what if you go, and all I have are the questions, the gnawing sense of failure, the black hole where you once were, and the fear that the answer to those questions is yes?

Yes, if I’d just done that one more thing

Yes, if I’d just done it right

Yes, if I’d tried these words, that medication, those doctors, this method, another prayer, one more confrontation, or changed in this way, then happiness would have descended on you like a dove from heaven and freed us all?

Even now, I still believe in that one more thing.

Persistence pays, right? So, I’ve invested everything. My emotional portfolio is heavy with stock in I-will-never-give-up-no-matter-what-because-you’re-worth-it, but what if you divest early and my market crashes like a Malaysian aircraft?

What if, when I grab your hand, you take us both off the ledge? Where will God be in the free fall?

Yes, I know He sees everything, knows it all, loves with a love like fire and water and stronger than death. But the enemy, the destroyer, is rampant, insidious, virulent, malevolent, and devoid of soul; on this side of the veil, he appears to rule

And while the truth is that Jesus reigns, the visible says that here in these parts there will be no mercy shown. At least, that’s what’s written on your door –

the one that stands between us, sealed shut – your heart and mind, your bedroom, the doctor’s office, the therapy room, the hospital ward, the prison cell, the coffin.

I’ve read, with great longing, how Jesus, after He rose, could walk through locked doors and that is what I’ve prayed, that my soul could touch yours through all the doors slammed shut between us. Will it only happen when I rise?

Waiting on the other side of this door, knocking, pounding, weeping, shouting, sliding down, my face pressed up against it gasping sobs, I now know that hope is a double-edged sword and holding onto it as the blood flows is harder than just letting go.

Jesus fell on that sword. He held out hope for the universe and His hands still bear the scars.  But what will it do between Jesus and me if you let go?

Unanswered prayer is one thing if it means rain on my picnic or a parking space further from the store or no giant check in the mail, but what if your happiness, your freedom, your heart continuing to pump life into your limbs – what if this is my unanswered prayer?

How will I ever face Him? Will my prayers taste forever like sawdust? Will my failure in the quest to find you happiness turn me to stone? Will your loss negate all I’ve gained in Christ?

And if you leap from this life reaching for happiness will you take mine, like an unopened parachute, over the cliff as you go?

There are some, I know, who have no concept of this twist of suffering. I wish it was one I didn’t know. Locked away with you inside the darkness of your search for joy, for meaning, for a reason to go on, I can only say that still, even here, I do see light.

Jesus is impervious to doors or walls or the darkness that is like a cell.

Jesus passes through unhindered – into your unhappiness, into my agony, into your desperation, into our fear – He is here where no other human can stand and so we are not alone no matter how we feel. There is this – His presence. (Psalm 139)

So, if He will never leave me (and this I do believe) and I cannot hide or flee from His presence, then neither can you.

I can shed this weight, the weight of the darkness cloaking you, like a chainmail cape, knowing that He can even enter your imprisonment – the place that I cannot go – and reside with you there.

Your happiness (or not) is His business, His work, His field of harvest. When You and He are alone, if you let go, He still holds your soul and has the final Word that is the ultimate answer.

And if He is with you where you are, and He is with me where I am – then that is where we will meet, you and I – in Jesus. That’s where I’ll see you then, standing in His light having entered into His joy that banishes all our darkness.

Though you may let go, He will forever hold on – to your heart and to mine.

This is a good day to intercede for people who love someone locked in depression, for people working with the depressed trying to find a healing solution, and for all of those who have lost someone they loved because their loved one could not hold on any longer.

Jesus hears our prayers. He is with us in suffering, in darkness, and even in death. Evil and sin don’t get the last word on this life – Jesus is the Word, the Alpha and the Omega, the Beginning and the End. He is able to heal and to comfort even those who survive.

If you’re carrying guilt because you have not been able to free a loved one from depression, take that guilt to Jesus and let Him free you from it.  It’s a lie that you are not enough.

We don’t have all the answers here. Depression can come from many sources and like other diseases that affect the body, mind, and soul, not everyone finds a cure this side of glory.

If you are the one experiencing depression, think small. We can live without happiness. We don’t need years without pain. We just need to endure to the next moment. Make a cup of coffee and sip it slowly. Turn on an old movie and watch it to the end. Open the book of Psalms and read until the sun comes up.

Don’t think about the coming years or months or days, but just this moment take a small action to seek help to survive the next moment.

Make a call to that loved one and just say, “I need you.” Text a loved one the word “Help.” Text 741741 from anywhere in the USA to text with a trained Crisis Counselor. Call 1-800-273-8255 to speak with a trained counselor. Go to a church, even one where you’ve never been, and just tell them “I need God right now.”

Open the door just a crack. Even a small light may dispel the darkness of this terrible moment, so you can survive to the next one.

Let all of us, those of us experiencing the terrible darkness of the soul and those who love us, let us all stand together in this moment and hear Jesus whisper, “You are enough for me. Hold on, loved one, I’m coming.”

What did one domino say to the other? We don’t have to fall.

What If I Can’t Make You Happy? https://t.co/VpDCnuzrx2 surviving those we lose to depression and suicide #AnthonyBourdain #survivors #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 8, 2018

To Love is to Risk Losing

My son-in-law has a new motorcycle.

My husband repaired someone’s roof this week – in 90-degree heat – alone.

My brother had a stroke.

My father was just released from the hospital with more tests to come.

To love is to risk losing.

To love is to be vulnerable to other people’s choices.

To love is to refuse a heart of stone for one that bleeds.

To love is to be like Jesus.

My friend listens to me talk for an hour about my work stress.

My daughter stretches her own boundaries to include others in planning a shower for her friend.

My mother wants to binge watch Netflix at my house to decompress from a week of hospital waiting.

A young woman asks to have coffee and talk about marriage and work and life.

To love is to be present.

To love is to risk discomfort.

To love is to make time.

To love is to invest in others like Jesus.

My husband still thinks I’m beautiful no matter what my scale tells me.

My children treasure photos of me because it’s not my size they see.

A reader posts an unflattering photo of me, but she looks wonderful.

Our friends visit and notice what’s done about our house, not what remains to do.

To love is to see through a kind lens.

To love is to see beyond skin and scars and scales.

To love is to open our eyes to what matters.

To love is to view everything like Jesus.

This family just needs someone to listen without blaming them for falling apart.

This family needs someone to speak truth and stick around for the fallout.

This family needs time, hours of someone’s time, to adopt a healthier pattern of living.

This family needs someone to set boundaries around how much is too much.

To love is to wear mercy like a favorite pair of jeans.

To love is persevere, even when change takes forever.

To love is to be relentless in presenting truth.

To love is to lavish grace like Jesus.

Lena gets emotionally invested in the tiniest patients no one else believes will survive.

Dave and Deb left family to create a home for others in a desperate land even as their friends discussed retirement.

John shepherds faithfully, joyfully, passionately, a small but potent congregation in a small town in a small state week after week after week.

Lyle listens unwaveringly to those nearing death.

To love is to allow your heart to break.

To love is to leave everything.

To love is to see beyond the veil.

To love is to shepherd like Jesus.

Donna prays like a warrior.

Julia finds courage to lead a ministry.

Bruce tends to the tech and the heat and the lights and the holes in the roof and the alarm system in the hours when no one sees.

Kathy practices for days one piece she’ll play so that we can prepare our hearts for worship and most won’t stop talking to listen.

To love is intercede in the night.

To love is to be brave in a hundred ways.

To love is to work faithfully unseen, unnoticed, unheard, unappreciated.

To love is to serve an audience of One like Jesus.

“That which was from the beginning,

which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes,

which we looked upon and have touched with our hands, concerning the word of life—

the life was made manifest, and we have seen it, and testify to it

and proclaim to you the eternal life,

which was with the Father and was made manifest to us—

that which we have seen and heard we proclaim also to you,

so that you too may have fellowship with us;

and indeed our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son Jesus Christ.” 1 John 1:1-3 ESV

“By this all people will know that you are my disciples,

if you have love for one another.”

John 13:35 ESV

To love is to live toward Jesus.

To love is to risk losing https://t.co/3uxXUd6Ztn What does it look like to love like Jesus? Word became flesh. #Jesus #love #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) June 4, 2018

We All Secretly Believe in Kings

We all secretly believe in kings.

Which is why we continue to follow the next one, and the next

On Twitter

At the polls

In the ratings

Into battle

Until they topple, feet of clay exposed to external stressors.

We swear we’ll never believe again.

We steel ourselves and erect scaffolding around our teetering souls,

But at the slightest glint of a crown, we cave.

As if fairy tales were coded into our DNA.

As if a monarch loiters just around the next corner who is like none who came before.

Incorruptible.

All-powerful.

Merciful.

Wise.

Skilled at social media and sound-bites,

checking all the right boxes,

aware of our present, versed in our past, one foot in our future,

never harassing, never harassed.

Suffered sufficiently we can relate, but not wounded enough to make us wonder what lurks beneath.

A leader we can follow to that place we believe exists though we’ve never seen it. Still, we’re homesick for something so it must be out there.

We try to stop longing for the one – the one with the answer, the heart, the philosophy, the ring to rule all others – but we’re relentless in belief.

Look, says one, he’s here.

No, says another, I’ve found her.

He’s a capitalist, communist, socialist, anarchist. She speaks, teaches, preaches, sings, leads like one born to it. He’s smart, savvy, skilled, surreal. They blabber, and we believe again.

Their philosophy, psychology, theology, political ideology, musicology is like no other and this, at last, will show us the way.

Come see.

“What did you go out to the wilderness to see?”

It matters what we hoped to see. Sometimes we fill in the blanks where only blanks exist.

There is a king like no other, but He doesn’t glitter or linger on Twitter, He doesn’t pander or meander from truth. He doesn’t play to the crowd, perform tricks on command, or care about our comfort.

He disappoints all who await a political deliverance, a military coup, a revolution that doesn’t begin within, an ideology based on their idealized selves rather than the abandoning of self.

And He reigns alone.

He does not share His throne or suffer idols. We must abandon them along with our expectations of His rule.

He’s a king willing to let anyone down who worships their dream of Him more than the reality of God.

But the reason we cannot smother this smoldering hope is because He does live, this One True King. And as every other king falls victim to his or her own failings, we would be wise to turn our mourning into joy. For where would our future lie if we threw our crowns at the feet of lesser kings?

Every time we hear news of this one exposed or that one giving up or another letting us down, let us not say, “Woe is the world and where have we come to?” For what did we go out to the wilderness to see?

Let us instead say, “Yes, Lord. Again, you are proven right. There is none righteous, no not one. Let the world prove you true again and again. And may this toppled king turn our hearts even more to You.”

We all secretly believe in kings because He’s created us with a homing device that pings until it finds it’s base, it’s home, in Jesus Christ, and no other.

There are some whose unrighteousness suppresses this truth, but may we never be guilty of withholding it and may we ever testify to it, whether from prison cells or palace walls.

There is One True King – incorruptible, all-powerful, merciful, wise, who is love and lives love and gives love and defines love. Settle for no lesser king than King Jesus.

We all secretly believe in kings . . . here’s why https://t.co/gXPNwxSrLp #fallenidols #Jesus #KingsandQueens

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 31, 2018

You Are Missing Out on Something that Could Change Your Life

I was an obedient child – mostly by default. Afraid of my own shadow, rebellion even in its smallest forms terrified me.

No great credit, that.

Finding Jesus early, fearful by nature, and inclined to see the wisdom in boundaries, you’d think I’d be immune to temptation. But, you see, no one is. That’s the starting place of the gospel.

You see, I could be tempted to break rules when confronted by one fear that outstripped my fear of trouble: the fear of missing out.

Bedtime was sacred in the sixties. Even if the sun was shining and the other neighborhood children were playing outdoors. Even if Ed Sullivan was on. Even if there was a special showing of The Wizard of Oz or Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella.

Fear of missing out incited me to sneak down the stairs and hide behind the giant swivel chair in our living room that was vacant in the evenings. From there, with racing heart, I could see at least half of the TV screen and catch a glimpse of what I was missing.

Unfortunately, it’s also how I managed to watch, undetected, In Cold Blood, Truman Capote’s tale of murder, that haunted me well into adulthood. (Mom was at PTO and Dad dozed off so . . .)

There are many things it’s in our best interest to miss.

One remarkable practice of Jesus was to draw away from the crowds. To rise early to be alone with His Father. To invite the disciples to follow Him to desolate places – away from where everything was happening.

Many of Jesus’ most potent conversations happened without a large audience – the woman at the well, Martha on the road, Nicodemus in the night. Jesus was never driven by fear, and absolutely did not succumb to the temptation to make decisions based on the fear of missing out.

We are not yet like Him.

Our enemy assaults us from the moment we rise to the moment we rest with alerts and updates, flaming arrows aimed at the middle-schooler in charge of our emotional dashboards who is crazy afraid that there’s an incredible happening somewhere and we’re not invited.

We’re not fools, for sure, so the messages come tailored with a distinct spiritual flavor:

“I heard there’s a powerful teen ministry at that larger church in the next town over. Maybe we should check that out.”

“Our large church seems alive, but what if we just don’t know everyone well enough to see how fake they are? Should we be active in that new start-up instead?”

“I could spend my drive time to work praying and listening to my audio Bible, but what if there’s breaking news? Shouldn’t I keep up as a Christian, so I can pray?”

“What do you mean your church isn’t studying this new popular speaker? How can you expect to see spiritual growth/relevant evangelism/greater numbers if you aren’t aware of his six new ways to spread the gospel?”

 

“God has clearly called me to serve this particular group of people, but what about that group? Shouldn’t I know all about them, too? To pray? To give? Everyone seems excited about reaching them. Why would God assign me over here when He appears to be getting everyone else excited over there?”

“I know God’s called me to reach people with this message. I’m most effective when I take time for prayer, Bible study, and research, but my adviser said I’m not spending enough time on social media. I guess that’s what I should be doing, right?”

The spirit of our times is powerful, and her name is Distraction. If she can keep us constantly assessing our goal rather than working toward it, she wins.

If she can keep us continually looking to the left, the right, behind us, and off to the side, she can prevent us from seeing exactly where Jesus is leading.

If she can keep Siri, Alexa, Google, and the twenty-four-hour news stations providing us with relentless updates, she blocks us from following Jesus to that desolate place where He is speaking of what truly matters.

Fear of missing out (FOMO) keeps us following rabbit trails rather than delving deeper into the ministry to which we’re called. FOMO delays our commitments to churches, partners, or pursuits because to choose one is to not choose the others and maybe – maybe – the fear whispers – the other is better.

FOMO keeps us questioning our understanding of God’s Word. Maybe we can serve God and serve money – a little. Maybe we can surrender all – and stay seated in our pew. Maybe we can stand up for truth – and still stay silent so everyone likes us. Right?

There’s so much in life, surely God doesn’t want us to miss out on anything! Like a bite of fruit from that one tree . . . that won’t be so bad, will it?

You see, our enemy even lies about FOMO. We think we’re up against some new syndrome that no other generation of believers has had to conquer, but Satan isn’t creative. He can’t invent anything new. His tricks are as dusty as King Tut’s tomb.

God still calls to us to walk with Him in the garden.

Jesus still bids us leave our nets (even our Internets) and follow Him – follow Him to desolate places.

He is the author of life. Where He is, that is where everything that matters is happening.

How do we combat the fear of missing out (FOMO)?

By prioritizing the greater and righteous fear – fear of missing God (FOMG). That is also an ancient path, loved ones, but it’s One that, instead of sending us along endless circles, it leads us home.

 

You are missing out on something that could change your life https://t.co/3DR5E9py36 #FOMO #FOMG #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 26, 2018

Dear Young Woman Who Thinks I Am Old

Dear Younger Woman,

I can tell you think I’m old.

It’s the surprise you express when I understand your cultural references or recognize that band you love.

It’s the shock you don’t even try to hide when I mention activities I enjoy like hiking or karate or romance. As if you think I worry about breaking a hip.

It’s the snicker you stifle when I talk about wanting to see the latest Marvel release.

I can tell you think I’m old. The look in your eye is what motivated me to call my friend and remark about having become “one of the gray hairs” in the body of Christ. I didn’t see it coming, but here it is and there you are, thinking it’s time for me to sit back and let you assume the mantle of all active ministry.

And, you’re half right.

Because here you are, and what amazes me most is how clearly I remember standing where you stand.

Back when I thought I discovered Jesus.

Back when I believed no one could possibly love Him as much as I or worship Him with such full heart or speak clearer truth to a new generation.

Back when I believed every gray hair must somehow be stuck in the humdrum of tradition, in ways that should be retired, and in a season of spiritual life that’s a sort of foggy waiting room for Jesus.

There was so much about me back then that was right. My focus on Jesus. My love for His people. My passion for outreach and for serving the poor.

I prayed without prompting. I consumed His Word. I loved to be in His sanctuary and to hear His message preached. Worship was organic to my inner life with Jesus and I expressed it with abandon.

God’s Word seemed so clearly about my life.

But, there were also many things about me that needed to change. I was always in a hurry. The urgency felt biblical and sometimes it was, but often it was just my youth.

I didn’t listen well. 1 Timothy 4:12 was my guide verse and I took it as a direct message on my life. I believed James 1:19 was a good passage for older church-goers to heed.

I believed every dream I dreamed was from God and every urge to speak or act from the Holy Spirit. Anyone who suggested otherwise was suspect, threatened perhaps, by how well I heard from God, wistful maybe, for days past when God once spoke to them.

Yeah, you can see what a project Jesus had in me, even though I deeply, truly, passionately followed Him. So many lessons He’s taught me through waiting, suffering, broken dreams, repentance, forgiveness, missions and mishaps.

And now, here I am. Old.

And I see you, young. But, what I see better than you do, is that we are the same.

My soul is alive within me, more alive even than when I loved Christ in my youth. For now, it streams from a faith that has been dashed and tossed and almost lost and rediscovered, revived, restored, and reclaimed a dozen times over through trials, tests, and tribulations of every form.

I love Him more now, yes more, and deeper because I’ve run out of my own love for Him and run to Him for His love to offer back.

I’ve loved Him through every season, beyond reason, under the weather, under fire, underwhelmed, and overtired, after triumph and after failure, through every gain and overwhelming pain. It’s been refined until it shines with the heat of embers that last longer than the initial flame.

I feel an urgency, too. We can anticipate His coming for me long before He returns for you, and there’s so much I still want to do for Him and with Him and about Him.

And I’m better at listening, but I still strain against my own desire to speak, to share, to convey all He’s taught me in so many ways, even knowing you’ll have to learn much of it the hard way, like I did. Soon enough the knees of your soul will feel the scrapes and burns of the inevitable fall that comes from running past the reach of your own maturity and faith.

He’ll catch you. And we old ones, we’ll be here for you, too.

Of course, there’s room for you. For your ideas, your voice, your vision, and your ways. I’ll resist the urge to say “that’s not the way it’s ever been done” long enough to hear you out. You see, we’ve prayed for you to know Jesus and we rejoice that you do!

But, I’ll also explain that some traditions bind us across generations and it’s God’s will to serve and reach those who are old as surely as He wants to reach the young. This is my family, too, my home, and my generation is still seeking, so my voice has a place.

The story He’s telling through my life isn’t over until He calls me home and I won’t miss a moment of it. I want to be right where He is, just like you do.

But don’t worry, I won’t push. I’ve walked with Jesus long enough to know He’ll make room for me where He will.

The power of Jesus Christ is made manifest when you and I maintain unity in Him. When we see one another through His eyes and we’re no longer an old one and a young one, but followers together. In celebrating each other, we testify to the world that Jesus reigns, that love wins, and that truth is the surest foundation for every generations’ dreamers.

I can tell you think I’m old. And so I am, to this life.

But like you, I am now eternal and in this way, like you, my life has only just begun. Let us follow Him together, child, you and I, for we will be following Him forever.

Dear Young Woman Who Thinks I Am Old https://t.co/t5vUQgBtHL What do older women even have to say to younger women in church #Jesus #generations #amwriting

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 22, 2018

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Meltdowns Among the Miracles

I’ll be completely honest with you. Today, I don’t feel like a person who ought to be writing a blog representing Jesus.

Lots of reasons.

Here’s one: I had to pay a visit to a children’s hospital in Providence today. For all the boldness I display when I write about faith, I’m a nervous old woman driving “into the city.” Sure, I can face down challengers to my faith, but put me into unfamiliar traffic patterns and I’m quivering like a Jello salad at a Baptist pot-luck.

Having driven there recently, I was confident I knew what to do but when I arrived at the parking garage, the turnstile was up and no matter how often I pressed the button, no ticket appeared.

I felt the pressure as the line behind me grew, so I pulled in, but all at once realized I was now in the parking garage area with no ticket to get myself out. Of course, there are no humans in the parking booths. So, this bold woman of faith kind of flipped out.

Doing an immediate U-turn, I pulled into the exit line. Parking in this garage is free for the first 30 minutes and I’d only been in the entry way for five, so I knew I didn’t owe a dime. When the turnstile lifted for the car in front of me, I hit the gas and sped through on his tail. The turnstile almost hit me on its way down, but I escaped and found a spot in the next parking garage with a working ticket meter.

Then, I had a meltdown in my car before walking into the hospital. (Which is where my co-worker explained there’s another button to push if the ticket doesn’t appear and a nice voice takes care of the whole thing. Who knew?)

This is me. There are moments I feel full of the Holy Spirit. The way before me is clear. Words fall into place and I can navigate spiritual deep-water.

And other moments, I’m looking at the extra pounds that won’t budge in my full-length mirror, scowling at articles on how to make my email list GDPR compliant for readers in the EU before the end of the month, trying to stifle cranky comments about changes to my day job, and turning to Facebook for comfort instead of my Bible (big mistake.)

How in the world did God entrust the furthering of His Kingdom and the spread of the gospel to people like me?

On the way into work, I listened to Luke 9 on CD in my car. Talk about a wild ride of a chapter! First, Jesus gives his apostles power and authority over demons and diseases. Like, wow! Heady stuff for fishermen and former tax collectors!

Their activity catches the attention of Herod, who has only recently beheaded John the Baptist. Not attention the disciples wanted, I’m sure. A bit more nerve-wracking than traffic.

Then, Jesus feeds the five thousand. The apostles’ minds must have been spinning.

Suddenly, then, Jesus is asking them who they think He is and talking about His upcoming death, warning them that to follow Him means taking up their own crosses. Which is it, Jesus? Miracles or death? Victory over demons or the way of the cross? I can’t imagine the whispered conversations they must have been having around the fire at night.

One verse later, Peter, John, and James witness the Transfiguration. Privileged and humbled, they must have been.  But not long after, they’re arguing about who among them is the greatest.

There are always meltdowns among the miracles. Some days we’re exercising authority over demons and diseases, but the next moment we’re praying for strength to diet and exercise our own lazy limbs. One moment we’re praising and proclaiming Jesus, the next we’re panicking in a parking garage.

This is us. The people of His own choosing. I wouldn’t have picked us to use to build the church, but who am I?

He is all. And He knows that working through us is all the more evidence that He deserves the glory.

People who know me aren’t at all surprised that I flipped out in Providence today. What amazes them is when God works through me. I’m sure it testifies to them every time of the reality of the Almighty, because they know I’m not “all that.”

Truth is, I’m not a person who ought to be writing a blog about Jesus, but He chose to use me this way anyhow. And if you follow Him, He’s choosing to use you, too, in the lives of the people around you.

Truth is, left to my own, I would have selfishly squandered my life, spent it entirely on me. But Jesus invited me into His adventure and lets me join in along the way, despite the many times I fail.

We need to stop searching for heroes. We need to stop trying to be heroes or waiting for our own perfection to emerge before we step out in His name.

We must be willing to be panicked bumblers following Jesus because there are miracles waiting amidst the meltdowns.

The first miracle we’ll find is God at work in our midst as it says in Zephaniah 3:17 ESV, “The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.”

What song does He sing over you tonight? Do you trust His Word that He rejoices over you with gladness? Will you let Him quiet you with His love? This is His story, after all, and He invites us along.

What an incredible God we serve, yes?

(Oh, and if you live in the EU and you subscribe to my blog, you’ll receive an email from me shortly asking you to re-subscribe in order to remain on my list. This is to comply with the GDPR laws enacted in the EU. Once I figure out how to do it!)

Thank you, all for reading what I write. You’ve no idea how much it means to me. Lori

Meltdowns among the Miracles https://t.co/7sqw3HbWn1 How did He ever entrust US with the gospel? #Jesus #amwriting #Miracles

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 17, 2018

What the World Needs Now is Better Wine – Broken Together for Three Decades

Something has always baffled me about Jesus’ first recorded miracle. It seemed so pedestrian, really. He’s at a local wedding and Jesus’ mother learns they’ve run out of wine.

This seemed unfortunate but not really devastating. Surely not something I would imagine requiring divine intervention.

It’s kind Jesus has compassion on the host and turns the water in six stone jars into wine but was His first miracle truly inspired by a desire to spare a family mild social embarrassment?

For years, I’ve mulled it over, considered it, prayed about it, meditated on it, and frankly, trusted there must be more to the story.

Now, I realize, you must stick with a marriage for many years, through trial, sorrow, frustration, failure, sickness, hard times, and boredom to truly appreciate the miracle at Cana.

My husband and I are celebrating our 30th wedding anniversary.

A few years ago, dear friends celebrated their 30th. When they announced it on Facebook, dozens of people commented on the joy of a long marriage, even proclaiming that love gets even better after forty years!

The sheer number of friends extolling the benefits of long marriages and expressing appreciation for their spouses after decades of life together inspired me. There were plenty of references to hard times, but the general message was that love improves with the years.

It seemed almost revolutionary to witness this testimony in a culture that celebrates youth and young love.

We don’t talk about this subject often for some good reasons, I suppose. In my experience, the modern church works hard to be sensitive to those who have felt shut out and marginalized in the past. We want to care gently for those who have experienced the pain of divorce and never lead them to feel lesser than for in truth, they are not.

We all have brokenness in our lives and there’s no place for judging one type of brokenness as worse than another. The only marriages I know are unions between broken people.

Because of this sensitivity, we try to be careful with our celebration of long marriages, especially those of us who know what a miracle it is that we’ve arrived there! But, in a society that is ever enamored with youth, with newness, and with the intense passion of young love, those of us who have been married for a long time have a responsibility to those coming after us to speak up and say, “It gets even better!”

It was in thinking about this that I suddenly understood the significance of the miracle of Cana.

Our marriage has been like many others.

We’ve had some wonderfully joyous times and we’ve had times when I’d just have soon walked away from the whole sorry mess.

Of course, we began with intensity, with passion, and with a joyful newness of love but somewhere along the line, we both ran out of love for one another. At some point, we couldn’t remember the point. Our jars were completely empty and suddenly it seemed what was once a celebration of true love teetered on the verge of disaster.

That’s when I learned, however, there is a better love than the one I originally offered my spouse.

I am now eternally grateful that I ran out of my own watered-down version of love because when I did, I turned to Jesus for a miracle.

He showed up, just as He did at Cana, and transformed the watery love in my stone-cold jar of a heart into a love that was better than the first,

so that my husband and I can truly say, “Amazing, Lord, you’ve saved the best for last! Our marriage is better, richer, sweeter, and deeper than it was when we began.”

And it’s all because when we ran out of love, we opened up to Jesus and He poured Himself into the emptiness of our marriage, filled our broken spaces, and gave us His love to offer to one another.

Marriage is such a pedestrian affair we take the miracle of it for granted.

While movies are filmed about young love, novels are penned about forbidden love, and songs are composed about heart-breaking love, millions of marriages quietly testify to the steadfast, enduring, rock-solid persistence of God’s love for His church.

Many of us have reached that empty-hearted place and faced the temptation to abandon what seemed like a dry, cold jar of what was once a promising elixir of love. When we run out of love, the world says it’s time to move on.

Don’t be fooled by those of us who have been married for decades. It hasn’t all been wine and roses. Sometimes it was wine glasses hurled at bedroom walls and fingers dripping blood from thorns.

We know from the wedding at Cana, though, that when the wine runs dry, there is a source for better wine. Running out of love becomes, then, a gift, a nexus between us and the love that excels above all others.

The world truly does need love now, right now, but we need a better love than what we can muster of our own making.

Can you get love from a stone? The answer is yes.

If that stone is in the hands of Jesus, you can get a better love than you even imagined at first, a love that will fill you with such joy that all of life becomes an eternal celebration, the best wine, saved for last.

Casting Crowns has a song that says it so well. Broken together. You can listen to it here.

What the World Needs Now is Better Wine – Broken Together for 30 years https://t.co/APSNtpGHmx #Jesus #anniversary #marriage

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 12, 2018

Dangerous Dreams – Why We Should Live Awake

There are drugs we take that heal us and other drugs that destroy us.

Not every drug is for our benefit. Go ask, Alice. She’ll testify.

Knowing this, we understand the need for discernment and caution when drugs are offered, even from those who have our best interest at heart.

The same can be said for dreams.

We live in a dreamy culture.

On any given night (or TED talk, or awards show), we can listen to someone encourage us, urge us, compel us to hold onto our dreams come what may. Pursue your dreams at all cost, they’ll preach into their headsets. If your children have dreams, nurture them and do all you can to make them come true.

Even Christian teachers will tell you we live in the days of dreams. They will quote Joel 3:28-29 when it was prophesied of these times when the Spirit is poured out that our sons and daughters shall see visions, our old men dream dreams, and even our young men see visions. The Spirit is poured out on men and women alike.

And yes, we live in the time of Holy Spirit filling and so we understand the language of dreams – like Abraham, Jacob, and Joseph – we know God speaks to those who have ears to ear – even when they sleep.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. spoke of his dream, one that was grounded in God’s Word, and sprung from a firm foundation of racial reconciliation and freedom consistent with the work and ministry of Jesus Christ. This dream had substance and was organic to a life spent pursuing God.

Not every dream has its origin in the Spirit of Jesus Christ.

When Moses stood before Pharaoh with the staff God could transform into a serpent, Pharaoh’s wise men performed the same act with their secret arts. Moses’ serpent devoured theirs, but for a moment, the deception worked.

So it is, in our times, with dreams and dreamers. There are still secret arts at work in our midst and they fill men’s and women’s heads with deceptive dreams, selfish dreams, obsessive dreams, and dreams bent on destruction.

The words of God spoken to Jeremiah, speak a powerful message to us today, one I cannot say any better:

“Am I a God at hand, declares the Lord, and not a God far away? Can a man hide himself in secret places so that I cannot see him? declares the Lord. Do I not fill heaven and earth? declares the Lord.

I have heard what the prophets have said who prophesy lies in my name, saying, ‘I have dreamed, I have dreamed!’ How long shall there be lies in the heart of the prophets who prophesy lies, and who prophesy the deceit of their own heart, who think to make my people forget my name by their dreams that they tell one another, even as their fathers forgot my name for Baal?

Let the prophet who has a dream tell the dream, but let him who has my word speak my word faithfully. What has straw in common with wheat? declares the Lord.

Is not my word like fire, declares the Lord, and like a hammer that breaks the rock in pieces?

Therefore, behold, I am against the prophets, declares the Lord, who steal my words from one another. Behold, I am against the prophets, declares the Lord, who use their tongues and declare, ‘declares the Lord.’ Behold, I am against those who prophesy lying dreams, declares the Lord, and who tell them and lead my people astray by their lies and their recklessness, when I did not send them or charge them. So they do not profit this people at all, declares the Lord.” Jeremiah 23:23-32

Dreams grounded on God’s Word, inspired by the Holy Spirit, and yielded to Jesus Christ are worth the sweat, blood, and toil it takes to realize them in our times.

Other dreams, though, should die. Other dreams, those of suspect origin, should yield to this present reality which is the Kingdom Come.

And we, the followers of Jesus, should have the knowledge of God’s Word, the indwelling of the Spirit, and the courage of our Lord to speak truth to deceptive dreamers and to dreamers deceived.

Paul charged the church with these words in Ephesians 5:6-17:

“Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of these things the wrath of God comes upon the sons of disobedience.

Therefore do not become partners with them; for at one time you were darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true), and try to discern what is pleasing to the Lord.

Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of the things that they do in secret. But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light. Therefore it says,

‘Awake, O sleeper, and arise from the dead, and Christ will shine on you.’

Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the will of the Lord is.”

When you hear talk of dreams, don’t be drawn in by beautiful stories, mesmerizing words, or persuasive eloquent motivators without testing the content of their dreams against the greater reality of God’s eternal Word.

There is a reality more powerful than the most compelling dream. Paul told the Corinthians, “But, as it is written, ‘What no eye has seen, nor ear heard, nor the heart of man imagined, what God has prepared for those who love him’” (1 Corinthians 2:9)

Abandon all dreams of suspect origin.

Instead, pursue the heart of Him from whom all life originated and your reality will become a greater adventure than you could ever dream.

Dangerous Dreams – Why We Should Live Awake https://t.co/gfMs0hQwQl #Ihaveadream #amwriting #Jesus

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 10, 2018

Dear Brothers, Don’t Bother Talking to the Women in Your Church . . .

My dear brothers,

Don’t bother talking to the women in your church, not about this subject, anyway.

Most of us have been that woman and we want to tell you something. Not because we’re without sin. Not because we don’t honor you. Not because we’re angry (we’re not) or looking to place blame (we’re not).

But, just because it’s a bit of truth, and in many ways, an easy ask.

Since childhood, there’s always been some man in our lives dodging God (at one time or another). They each have done it differently. Some run, some avoid. Others sit right there and it’s harder to tell they’ve exited the building, but still not entirely indiscernible for those paying attention.

We speak up (of course). We’ve done since childhood. And we’ve found prayer warriors among the women who understand what it’s like to knee-plead for a father, grandfather, uncle, cousin, husband, boyfriend, son, grandson. They listen, they advise, and we all wait and war in our prayer closets.

We flock to studies that teach us to do battle for our men in the heavenly realm. Often, our most consistent prayer is for another godly man to come alongside him and impact his life toward Jesus.

But, what we’ve also noticed since childhood is that the brothers, the fishers of men still on the path following Jesus, they don’t talk to the men, they talk to us – to the women showing up with them to worship or to study God’s Word or to pray.

“Mavis, where’s that man of yours? Tell him I was asking for him, sister.”

“Debbie, I’ve noticed your son isn’t attending young adult group any longer. Encourage him to come. I’d like to chat with him.”

We promise you, gentleman, as well-intentioned as you may be with those comments, and as sweetly as we may have smiled at you and nodded, well, inside we were thinking, “Talk to him yourself! Pick up your phone. Stop by our house. Visit his office. Invite him to shoot hoops.”

Because we know when we mention you’ve been asking, it will blend in with all the other words we’re speaking that right now he’s choosing to ignore.

How we long to hear “Mavis, where’s that man of yours? Do I have his cell phone? I’m planning to call him this week and let him know he’s missed.” Or “Debbie, when am I likely to catch your son home? I’ve noticed his absence from young adult group. I’d like to invite him out for a burger on Thursday.”

These words, this talk, and the follow through (even if our men avoid you) inspires us to pray more, reminds us we’re not alone in this battle, elevates us to a place of hope because the church, the Body of Christ, is active and on the move, not leaning back on the elbows of their souls hoping our men choose to jump back into the boat.

You who are our brothers, wholly loved by God, redeemed by the blood of Christ, destined for glory, warriors and workers advancing the kingdom through your actions, your words, and your prayers, we’ve interceded for you, too.

These are truly trying times. Our enemy would have us war with one another, divide by gender, suspect one another, and play to our differences, yes? And it’s so clear we live in a fallen world it’s the easiest of times to talk about sin, harder to preach the hope of redemption,

Especially when saints fall from grace, leaders resign under accusation, men we once respected face indictments for sexual harassment and worse. And temptation lurks inside every laptop and smartphone as the face of sin takes on the glow of a computer screen.

There has never been a time when it’s been more important for you, the ones who’ve dropped your nets to follow Jesus into His adventure, to find your voices and speak light into this dark world.

Preaching, yes, and teaching, of course, but we’re talking about conversations that happen when you climb out of the boat and walk on the water of everyday exchanges with the men in our lives.

We mothers, sisters, cousins, wives, friends, and daughters pray for you to come fishing for our men – fish in the waters where our sons, husbands, brothers, fathers drown outside the ark

You, by virtue of your gender, could speak outright to our men – in ways they could hear – while cutting down a tree or painting a wall, at the gym or in the office, over coffee or after a viewing of the Avengers or before a round of X-box. You could speak truth to our men, our boys, our fathers and be a light on the path some of them aren’t going to find on their own.

The secret we know is how they hunger for guidance, for camaraderie, for someone to challenge them and invite them into a greater story, though on the outside, they don’t give you even a clue.

We count on you to rely, not on your own understanding, but wholly on Christ who says the harvest is plentiful and the workers are few. Be a worker. Trust God’s voice over what you see and plunge into the field – the harvest will appear as you engage in the work.

But, while you procrastinate or refuse to initiate or simply stand back and wait for these lost boys (and men) to seek you out, some of us sisters suffer – some far worse than others. There is no one else coming to their aid. It’s on us and that means, all hands on deck.

So, please, don’t withhold truth from our men and boys while they tread water in the sea of deception., Withholding truth leaves a vacuum that the deceiver is only too happy to flood with lies.

If our men (and boys) go down with the weight of those fallacies, let it not be because we stood safely on the deck of the ark and didn’t even try to toss them a line.

Yes, the sins of women damage the world, too. We need to speak truth to one another and we are, but when I look around at the pews, it’s mostly not the men who are sitting alone.

And it’s young men who rain gun-fire down on crowds. And middle-aged men who take their own lives. And seniors who sink into despair. And boys who look for someone, anyone, to model while temptation is only a click away.

Find your voice. Your words don’t have to be many or eloquent to make a difference for the men we love. They just have to make the sound of truth against the firestorm of lies sending them running from the hope of the cross. The hope you know.

It’s not easy, we know. But we Jesus-followers, we do hard things. This is one.

Dear Brothers, Don’t Bother Talking to the Women in Your Church . . . https://t.co/2tLJNlWTe4 #Jesus #menandwomenofGod

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) May 4, 2018

Snooze Button Believers

Allow me to confess something here.

I became addicted in college and am only now, age fifty-seven, coming to terms with my addiction.

I’m certainly not the only person to have this monkey on my back, but I haven’t yet seen a program designed to help me deal with breaking my once a day (okay sometimes three times daily) habit.

I am addicted to my snooze button.

That’s right. Every morning since the first alarm clock I purchased that featured this nifty device, I’ve clicked that baby once, twice, sometimes three times before dragging myself from sleep to standing.

For years, I thought it was brilliant, but with time, I’ve come to see it for what it is, a way to delay, a pass to procrastinate, a way to mechanically (or digitally) leverage laziness. Those extra moments of dozing do me no good, and in fact, probably contribute to a certain grogginess that bleeds into my morning.

 

Worse, this snooze-fest has invaded my spiritual life, as well. That’s right. God has recently shown me that I’m at risk of being a snooze-button believer.

It happens when I read a passage of scripture, study a sound teaching, or hear a powerful sermon. Something awakens within me. It stirs, and I hear the call to action.

The sun rises in my soul and I peek out from beneath the covers of denial – there is more God expects of me on this side of glory and He wants me to be about it.

Then, my soul  hits the snooze.

I don’t consciously delay, but neither do I implement immediate obedience. I think, “Yes, my prayer life has been lagging. I need to address that!” Snooze. “Who wants to go to lunch, take a nap, see a movie, time for bed, head to work. Wait, is it Wednesday already and my prayer life remains unchanged?”

Or, I hear the Holy Spirit whisper that time is growing shorter. There are so many in my life who don’t know Him. And I completely believe I’m responsible to speak up. “Hmm, but where do I begin? Do I really know how to do it? Should I watch a video on evangelism?

Maybe I should study a scripture on salvation. Is this something I can do at my job and not get in trouble? Well, I’ve told so-and-so years ago with no success, so, that counts.” And I think my way through a month, a year, a decade of not sharing my faith.

The snooze button for the soul can be set for long, long periods of escape.

Sleep is lovely. Dozing is sweet. But, do we want to be among those found napping when Christ returns, or do we want to live awake to the work and wonder of His advancing kingdom?

If we desire the latter, we need to deactivate the snooze button in our souls. We can’t do it without His power, but with Him, we can rise, not only from sleep, but also from death.

Now.

Snooze button believers – are we dozing and delaying obedience or are we awake to the call of Christ? https://t.co/6lj4WEj9Ft #wakeupchurch #Jesus #liveawake

— Lori Roeleveld (@lorisroeleveld) April 28, 2018