The boots sit on my counter this morning, taunting me. Asking if they should stay. The very question I am asking myself. I even sent a weekend text, to my mom and two sisters with a picture, asking only, “Boots?” Implied- should I keep them?
I don’t normally care enough to ask for feedback. It’s just that I hadn’t really asked for them. It started when they arrived at my door, with a package of a few items to try out. They weren’t expensive, per se, but more than I was thinking of spending on any boots right now. In fact, I wasn’t even thinking of buying any boots at all. All of mine fit and looked fine, and I don’t get too fussy these days. Thank you very much, but one cute pair is probably more than enough. I told my husband as much and I think he wasn’t unpleased, really, and maybe even relieved, at what I wouldn’t be buying and the cost I’d be saving us. But after I said, “no, thanks” to them, I questioned.
For a half minute. Then I sent the text and waited to hear. The answers wouldn’t necessarily be mine, I was just curious. Uncharacteristically so, even. What ensued was a whole line of questioning.
“Are the comfy?” “Will you wear them?” “Where will you wear them?” “Will you wear them often enough?”
Volume versus cost versus price versus practicality versus fun. Fashion, function and form battling it out like it’s some kind of contest, or at least a conquest. The girls gave them the thumbs up, though I still wasn’t convinced either way.
But these boots, trying inch by inch, we’re trying to get closer to my heart, and to get on my feet. Undecided, I left them out overnight. Today was decision time- return or keep.
This morning was like many other mornings, contemplating all of the things in prayer and later, in conversations. The social issues, the emotional, physical and spiritual wellness of our kids. The desire that I have to be sure to lead with love, but also to stand up and fight what’s wrong, so it doesn’t stay wrong. (Not people, things. Ideas. Policies. That’s my take at least.) Trying to move forward in integrity, in alignment with the calling to love and serve. Trying to figure out what that looks like, hour by hour, day by day.
Coming back into the kitchen from buzzing about, I see them again. Waiting. Looking at those boots again, standing like good little soldiers waiting for the decision, I hear the words from two years ago. Words that I said in a different conversation, a different context, but that still stand out, still ring true today. The answer to what we need in the world.
WE NEED LOVE WITH WORK BOOTS ON.
Then immediately I think of the scriptures that I came before my eyes this morning. Psalm 103. The one about listening for his commands.
“17 But the love of the Lord remains forever with those who fear him. His salvation extends to the children’s children 18 of those who are faithful to his covenant, of those who obey his commandments!
19 The Lord has made the heavens his throne; from there he rules over everything.
20 Praise the Lord, you angels, you mighty ones who carry out his plans, listening for each of his commands. 21 Yes, praise the Lord, you armies of angels who serve him and do his will! 22 Praise the Lord, everything he has created,
I don’t know if the scripture is talking only of angels. I mean, I’m not sure what the author intended, and maybe it was talking only about a gels following His commands. But I also know that those who follow Christ, the same can be true for them. We can listen for His directions, like Samuel, “Speak Lord your servant is listening.”
Or how in Proverbs 8, Wisdom says “And so, my children, listen to me, for all who follow my ways are joyful.”
So yes, it can be true for us too. We can listen for and do as He guides us and shows us. Optional. It can be.
He does not force us to do what He wants. He is not some tyrant, the likes of which we see here on earth. Not a tyrant that comes to the earth, in force, He is a loving kind and gracious, and He invites us to work with Him. We too, invite Him, just as He invited us- in Love. So many blessings are promised to those who seek, and I go in search of more scriptures about this, to understand more, more about these assignments.
He does not force us to do what He wants. He is not some tyrant, the likes of which we see here on earth. He is a loving kind and gracious God, who invites us to work with Him. Invites us. Yes, He has good, and wonderful plans, but He needs humans to want, and to be a part of them. To seek Him and His ways. So many blessings are promised to those who seek, and I go in search of more scriptures about this, to understand more, more about these assignments.
Then I come across this beautiful scripture . This is exactly it. (And I also immediately have a new life verse, describing my heartbeat, His heartbeat assignment.)
“The Sovereign LORD has given me his words of wisdom, so that I know how to comfort the weary. Morning by morning he wakens me and opens my understanding to his will.” Isaiah 50:4
There are assignments that each of us have, and a million causes trying to get our attention. Feeling pulled recently in different directions, I was talking to Him about it. “The world will play your headtstrings and leave you feeling frustrated and defeated. When you stay connected to mine for you, there will always be Hope.” The key then is to make sure we’re letting Him inform our heartstrings. For every assignment comes with strategy to fulfill it and Hope to know it can happen.
There is so much to see and to say and to work for. Good causes at every turn. The question isn’t just what is to be done, or what can be done. But what am I supposed to do.
Love is a very patient and thorough advisor, and wisdom along with it. What I don’t get the first time the Holy Spirit will show me, again and again, in different ways. Like these works boots, for example, trying to speak to me for two years about assignments. Love always tells a better story, uncovers the one I was missing, the heart beating just beneath the surface of things. I can only put my ear to better listen.
Each day, yes, each day, “God what do you have for me today. What are you wanting ME to do? What is your heartbeat for me, and for those around me, those in my sphere of influence. What does Love have to say today, and what are my marching orders?”
It’s not just “marching orders.” It’s a beautiful invitation to be a part of what God, in His great Love, is doing today. To go where and to do what we are being invited to do and say and go. Love puts on work-boots.
I look at those boots again. I think of all the same questions that were asked of them naturally, last night. Do they fit, are they comfortable. Will you wear them? Where will you wear them? Are they worth the cost?
And that one stands out the most. Are they worth the cost?
I think about the one last thing my sister said. “A good pair of boots you’ll wear for 10 years. It’ll be worth it.”I look at those boots again and I see it. Love with work boots. Assignments. Cost. Comfort. And the one thing that matters most. “It’ll be worth it.”
No cost is too high if God is calling you, and any work of love will last, well beyond years. Because Love remains. Long after the boots fall apart, long beyond the assignment that brought it, long even beyond us on earth.
Sometimes a thing shows up on your door. An assignment, a task to walk in , a call to wear something, to do something. And you don’t know why or how. You didn’t even ask for it. You didn’t even “need” it. But for some reason, someone must need it. You hear it. You’ve been listening and these new work boots, the ones you didn’t even anticipate, God is calling you put them on.
It doesn’t matter even if anyone else likes them. You can now, you do slip them onto your feet. Because once you count the cost, you MUST.
Whether or not you know where they will take you or how long it will go on, you must walk in that direction. Day by day, hour by hour. Asking the Lord. “I sought the Lord and He heard me. He delivered me from all of my fears.” And sometimes He will use you to deliver (FREE in some translations) other people from theirs.
We wrestle not against flesh and blood but we fight for love and for truth, and to help free people from bondage. There’s all kinds of bondage, so which one is God asking you to help people find freedom? What love boots are yours to wear, what are your marching orders? What wonderful works of the Lord is your life meant to show? Show people. The people trapped in bondage. The people whom God never gives up on. The only question is: Do we?
If there’s something you’re called to do today in love, if there’s an invitation you have to participate in Christ bringing reconciliation and hope and healing to a hurting world, do it. Do it well. And don’t worry about the cost. The reward lasts for generations.
Love goes on. Love marches on. Only question is, will we march with it? Will we help bring it? Beautiful are the feet that bring good news.
“Wake up, wake up, O Zion! Clothe yourself with strength. Put on your beautiful clothes, O holy city of Jerusalem, for unclean and godless people will enter your gates no longer. Rise from the dust, O Jerusalem. Sit in a place of honor. Remove the chains of slavery from your neck, O captive daughter of Zion. For this is what the LORD says: “When I sold you into exile, I received no payment. Now I can redeem you without having to pay for you.” This is what the Sovereign LORD says: “Long ago my people chose to live in Egypt. Now they are oppressed by Assyria. What is this?” asks the LORD. “Why are my people enslaved again? Those who rule them shout in exultation. My name is blasphemed all day long. But I will reveal my name to my people, and they will come to know its power. Then at last they will recognize that I am the one who speaks to them.” How beautiful on the mountains are the feet of the messenger who brings good news ,the good news of peace and salvation, the news that the God of Israelc reigns! The watchmen shout and sing with joy, for before their very eyes they see the LORD returning to Jerusalem. Let the ruins of Jerusalem break into joyful song, for the LORD has comforted his people. He has redeemed Jerusalem.”
Annoyed that I had to be reading, scouring through the hundred pages of the new rules that are proposed for New York State. Combing through the legal language and coded words, ones that would directly impact my family.
Annoyed to read the words “expand the department’s oversight” Annoyed to read about new measures, two years later, for expanded powers of the state to quarantine, contain, and isolate, etc individuals.
Annoyed that I had to trade in time and attention for the very kids whom I was trying to look out for.
Annoyed to see the pictures of the governor maskless with school children, smiling beneath a veneer of teeth and a system that has failed them over and over these past two years. Beyond, really. Who shuttered doors, handed out iPads and kept kids away. Then brought them back with masks, are still masking and want to keep it that way for the foreseeable future. Who want to give shots – on school grounds, if necessary- and call themselves heroes. A capital that says “we will do everything in our power”, and then continually attempts to keep increasing their powers.
Annoyed that my kids see me annoyed. Annoyed that we there even is a fight at all.
It makes you wonder sometimes. What is it that we are even doing.
And then I look at my kids faces. The ones were masked, swabbed, distanced, and separated more times than we can count over the past two years. Who missed more school than seems possible. (But that part is really alright.) But all, more than really seems justified, looking back, and definitely more than seems justified looking forward. The ones the state wants to make rules for, more rules, extending to wherever they go.
The ones that like to dress like superheroes. The ones that like to dream and ask questions.
And then it all makes sense.
They deserve superheroes dressed in regular clothes who dream and ask questions now. I am not one. We are just parents walking in our superpower. To speak up for and advocate for our kids. I am not annoyed. I am emboldened. I am a adamant. Purposeful, yet again.
Yes I am annoyed at parts of it Annoyed to have to keep talking about it, annoyed at the noise and drama of it. Annoyed that some think it’s overreacting. Annoyed that the questions are being called dangerous.
It’s enough sometimes to makes you want to turn it off, shut it down and play Uno. (And we did, we played together, we told stories over dinner. And we did what families do. )
But I will not shut it off completely. Because this is not a game.
No matter what criticism, or what watchful judging stares. >>Because those are not the watching eyes that matter. << Because there is no harm in asking questions; there is only harm in not. Because among other things, <<>>>. All of our kids are. And someday they will have questions about all of this, too.
These kids that dream of being superheroes. That do not belong to the state. They do not belong to us. They belong to God. And we have them only, on loan, by His grace.
I’m going to have to give an account for whatever I did or didn’t do to help them in this world, and for whose side I was on. It better be theirs, and God’s. Not convenience. Not programs. Theirs.
So no, I guess I am not really annoyed. Not for having to stand up for them.
That is my right AND privilege. I do it passionately, but hopefully, with great love.
They deserve us asking questions and they deserve us trying to figure out what’s happening. These kids deserve the best possible future. They don’t deserve us handing over their futures to “that will never happen”. The past is too vigilant in telling its stories of things gone wrong when no one was looking. Of governments growing in control while no one was looking. Playing chess while people played uno. We shouldn’t turn a blind eye or a deaf ear. Not this time.
I’ll be over here in my corner doing what I feel I need to, being a voice for their future. Praying like crazy. Telling good stories ourselves, to them. Much like all of parenting, we don’t need to be perfect, we just need to be present and aware . A watchman for them.
Our kids are too precious to not ask the questions, to not have the discussions, to not scour the data and pages, looking for answers, maybe asking more questions. Speaking up. For them. I applaud those who did it for others, who help to interpret. They are doing good, good work.
Because our kids deserve to tell good stories themselves, a lot of them. Stories of life and love and freedom. Stories that make things right. Superhero stories.
You can do or not do whatever you think, too that’s totally your call. Stare if you want even.
I’ll risk being “wrong” in order to help them live right.
When I was writing something yesterday, those words stood out, and hung heavy in the air. I’m not going to say I came up with the beautiful phrase. It was something, hovering, and I just caught it.
I was writing about purpose, and walking in yours. (Again, as is the themes it seems. What can I say, the world needs YOU🤍🙏🏻💪🏻.)
Yet the “pen” wasn’t only about a pen. Sure, I use one to write a lot of words. But you write too. Even if you don’t think that you “write”.
You write with every spoken words. With every embrace. With every turn of your head, every glance of your eyes, you tell a story.
What is your story?
Well, what was once your bed? What maybe still kinda is? What’s hurt you or held you back or been a source of shame or limitations? It’s not meant to stay that way.
It’s meant to be your pen.
“Pick up your pen and walk” holds an echo. Of this story 👇🏻
“Now there is in Jerusalem near the Sheep Gate a pool, which in Aramaic is called Bethesda and which is surrounded by five covered colonnades. Here a great number of disabled people used to lie—the blind, the lame, the paralyzed. One who was there had been an invalid for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there and learned that he had been in this condition for a long time, he asked him, “Do you want to get well?”
“Sir,” the invalid replied, “I have no one to help me into the pool when the water is stirred. While I am trying to get in, someone else goes down ahead of me.” Then Jesus said to him, “Get up! Pick up your mat and walk.” At once the man was cured; he picked up his mat and walked.”
Now there is so much here. It is ripe for the picking. But the main point for now is this: The man was sick for 38 years. He had no one to help him get well. Jesus just had to speak to him, to tell him to pick up his bed and walk. And he was healed.
Some of you have been sick for thirty eight years. And you have no way, no one to help you to get to the pool and get well.
The man sat under five columns (5 often stands for government or worldly structures). We put so much in these broken systems, the ones that are failing us, at every turn, when what we really need is an encounter with Jesus.
The One who makes His sick friends well. Who holds the world in the palm of His hand.
Here’s the best part. The man didn’t even know it was Jesus at first. He was blind and lame. He didn’t have to see physically to understand that those words, His words, held weight. When he heard them, he felt them. He felt something different. He didn’t have to understand how it would even work in order to accept the words.
The life giving words.
He just had to do what He said.
That was the day of the man’s healing.
There are lots of different types of healing that we need in this world. What’s yours, what’s the one you need today?
Blind as you may be, hurt as you may be, reach out for Him. You can get to know Him more later. But you can still always hear His words and reach out for Him now.
In your hurt and sickness and blindness, you can still “find” Him, for He is near. And He will reach right back out for you. He will heal you, as you need it, He wil tell you, to pick up your bed and walk.
“The day on which this took place was a Sabbath, and so the Jewish leaders said to the man who had been healed, “It is the Sabbath; the law forbids you to carry your mat.” But he replied, “The man who made me well said to me, ‘Pick up your mat and walk.’” So they asked him, “Who is this fellow who told you to pick it up and walk?” The man who was healed had no idea who it was, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd that was there.”
No one has to like it. They probably won’t. The broken system of laws and rules and religion government that kept you sick? Leave it behind. Be well, now. When you hear Him say it. Listen for His words. Ask Him for it.
That is what the Father is doing. THAT is what Jesus is up to. Already, and ongoing, and it can be yours.
I don’t know how it will happen. I don’t know when. But I do know that He holds the words of life. We don’t have to know it all yet. We just have to ask Him.
What was once was your bed can now be your story. The pen with which you write a better one.
A redeemed story- of hope and love and healing. No longer sick, but well. No longer blind and lame, but healed and whole.
He, in His Love, always tells a better story. He can tell it in and through your life, too. Let Him…
Many of us have wandered from the path, one time, one way or another, I suppose. Again and again
“You tried and failed and felt overwhelmed. You walked away. Got some breathing room. Finally felt more free. You had been suffocating back there. But really now, you’re dying and you feel all alone. Not that you’d tell anyone. There’s nobody to tell. There’s nobody that can take you out of it but you.
It wasn’t me that was suffocating you. It was man. It was lies. it was you, dying in the quicksand of your own efforts. Meanwhile, all along, I was right there to pull you out. Even then, I did pull you out. And I set you free. You shook off the sand and the gunk and you went free.
But you never turned to look at me. When you walked away. you just left. Still gasping for air, when I was right there longing to give you fresh breath. I let you go. I couldn’t make you stay. But I never let you walk alone. When you turned to a path of solitude, I left you space. But I never left you alone. I was right there down the way. Keeping my eye on you. I wouldn’t leave you there completely alone without a guide. There, you wouldnt let me guide you or help you, but I never left. You took me to a lot of places I didn’t want to go. But love wouldn’t just leave you there. It pained me to watch you walked a stony, winding, twisted path and see you stumble along the way. But how I longed to pick you up and carry you. Sometimes it got so bad that you did. You had stumbled and fallen, and you were badly injured and hurt. You let me pick you up and carry you. And I did for a while. And how I loved it. I loved it. I loved it. I could feel you did too. But after a while you wanted me to put you down, to let you go. And so I did. I will never force you to be carried or guided by me. But I’m always right beside you willing and longing to help.
I know you, like a child, like to do it on your own. To make a way on your own, to be sincere and true.
But there is nothing more true than being guided by my Love. My love for you. It will take you places you could never go alone. Places your hurt won’t ever carry you. Places you were meant to run, not only stumble and trip. A path that’s true.
How I longed to help you. How I longed to show you a way, guide you along the very best one. But you refused. When I put you down, again, you refused to turn and to look at me with much more than a nod. With a wave, you were off. I held no grudge, only sorrow and so much love that it only hopes for a chance to give more. You glance at me, sometimes, a reassurance that I’m still there. Snd I was and I am and I will be until your journey’s end. But there are paths not taken, dreams that will fall away to the side, eventually, if you refuse to really look at me. More than a glance. If you really look at me long enough to know me, to trust me. Trust me enough to let me guide you. Not just in the little thing or the big things. In all the thing. I long to show you the way. A better way. Not if your choosing, but mine. Not based on your weaknesses or your comfort. But only on my strength snd my love. On my hope. I see the way forward. You can trust me. I can take you there. Will you let me guide you. Will you let me love you. Will you let me hold you, even if it’s just for a little while. And maybe even more. You were never meant to go it alone. I’ve always been there every while you’ve felt so alone. Look. I’m right here. Look, love. Let me love you. Let me help you. Let me guide you along a perfect path that I’ve made. Just for you alone, but never, not ever, alone.
Recently I was reminded of the story of Esau and Jacob. My daughter had read about it and was trying to recall the story. Stolen, birthright, mispronounced names. To be honest I was having trouble remembering too. My husband teased me that he remembered and I didn’t. I laughed at that, at how much there is to remember. And how much we can forget. In the Bible or otherwise.
But when my daughter mentioned the hairy arm part, it all came back to me. Funny enough, that’s the very part I didn’t like, and yet the same part that brought it flooding back. The stolen blessing, the sold birthright, the brothers in struggle, favorites, parents, inheritance. We cracked open the Bible to read more.
We read about how they were born. How they came late to their parents lives, how their arrival was a surprise in its double event. How one preferred the wilderness and one preferred the tents and civilization. How the one who liked solitude and the freedom to roam in the fresh air did so until he grew hungry one day. He came upon his brother as he was making a stew, and famished as he was, he asked for a bowl. Untethered and presumably tent-less as he was, he didn’t have much with which to buy it. Slim pickings in the desert that month.
But he was the first born so he actually did have something. Something that didn’t seem too valuable to him, but would go well in a barter. His birthright.
So, cashing in long term gain he didn’t care about for short term survival, he bought himself some warm stew. It helped him live, and thrive. For the time at least.
As we read it, we stopped halfway.
I knew there was something about this story, or a lot of somethings, that were calling to me.
The one line that stood out to me from the first retreading was this: “Jacob despised his birthright.”
If that isn’t a loaded scripture I don’t know what.
I mused aloud then, still do, that I would have to ask God what He was saying here. I wanted to know more. I’m sure he’s said a lot of things to a lot of people over the years about this story. To be honest, I haven’t been paying attention. The stories I remember are just that- stories. Like the one my daughter told me, Ripe with meaning, ready for interpretation, ready for some new revelation. I’m listening now. What hidden layers of insight would You like to peel back?
As I sat here in prayer, that story tumbling about, a phrase I recently heard that bothered me suddenly tumbles out too. “Prosperity gospel”. It was said with disgust, an accusation of sorts. And to be honest, I heard it with disgust. An accusation indeed. I don’t think labels serve the body of Christ too well. And I don’t think the gospel needs any- perceived or true-accusatory words attached to it. I think that only divides and separates us, not truth from fiction. There’s One Gospel. We humbly seek interpretation
And I don’t think that prosperity is such a bad word. Now before you get into some compartmentalism, get your kickers in a twist, or start to worry about that blasphemous word too, let’s just consider this for a minute.
In 3 John 1:2, the greeting to the church is this: “Beloved, I pray that in every way you may prosper and enjoy good health, as your soul also prospers.” Prosper in every way.
When did we get so comfortable with the thought that Jesus wants us only to suffer? “In this world you will have trouble. But behold, I have overcome the world!” Yes we will suffer. Yea though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil. For thou art with me. Thy rod and the staff they comfort me. Thou preparers a table before me thou anoints my head with oil. My cup overflows.”
Now, of course, the truth is the Lord wants first and foremost for our souls to prosper. But who is to say that He doesn’t want us to prosper in other ways too! To pour out an oil of bless upon our heads, our hearts, and our entire beings. Blessings that *overflow*?! Overflow means more than enough. Overflow means you don’t just squeak by. Overflow means you have more than what you need. Overflow means you have enough to share. Aren’t we supposed to go into all the world and preach the gospel? How can we do anything if blessings don’t overflow? We can be the recipients yes but we can also be the blessers. In every way. What’s so wrong with that thought?
I think of Jacob and Esau. Esau had “more than enough” available to him, but preferred to leave it more often than enough to be out in the wild. But eventually he ran out and he had to find someone else’s overflow.
Now, he had a birthright and he had an inheritance. His Father’s house and land and food and everything was available to him. But he despised it, maybe, or at least traded it for the wilderness.
The birthright was nothing to him but a formality. It served no form or function to him. Then he grew starving and he sold it for his hunger. Here’s a question- did he despise it before he sold it, or was the selling despising? Or did he despise it after?
This begins to churn in my spirit. What is some of the birthright that maybe we’re despising? Is it the tents we can’t stand. We didn’t like their size or fork or function. The rules the predictability. The confinement, the ‘necessary’ troubles of living in community?
Whatever the reason, many are in a wilderness -for good or bad. But have you traded your birthright? In a moment of desperation or despair, have you sold it away or have you called upon it. Have you traded your birthright to feed your soul? Or have you used it to set yourself free from isolation? To connect back to the source of your royal birthright? Not your brother, but your dad? The one who own is all, who is the bread of life, who will feed your soul’s hunger, eternal?
Have we settled for less than because we refuse to dwell in our father’s tents (and I don’t mean churches!). We thought we were leaving the churches and their “tents”. The brothers who bothered us. The mothers who rejected us. The fathers that tried to love us, but couldn’t make us to want to stay. Have we failed to dwell we them or return to them because we thought we couldn’t be tamed? Maybe we didn’t actually have to be.
Esau’s father loved him. He loved his wildness. Yet Esau felt He couldn’t stay. Because he himself despised his birthright, he sold it. He wandered in the wilderness most often, rejecting the home but to get a meal when he was famished, and leave again. More available, but didn’t dwell there. He chose the wilderness, until one time he grew so hungry that felt he the urge to trade in a part of himself, his birthright, to get a bowl of soup.
I don’t think he ever had to do that. At least, I don’t know that he had to sell his birthright. I bet his father would have given him a bowl without groveling or such gruffness. Either way, he got what he needed, at a great cost, ate it, and left. “He showed contempt for his rights as the firstborn,” it says in one version.
I wonder what was it that caused the schism? Impatience? Jealousy, brotherly fractures? But regardless, His Father still loved Him. His father still was willing to give him his blessing.
When Jacob and Isaac’s father was dying, and wanted to bless Esau, he called for his son and asked him to hunt for and prepare a meal for him. While he did, Jacob came in and stole it. It troubles me, that part. Did Esau take too long? Did he get distracted? Was Esau just that cunning? Maybe God allowed it because Esau had, as it says when he sold it “despised his birthright”? I don’t know. But it troubled their father too. When he found out what had happened, he lamented. He wanted so much to bless his son Esau and to give him something of an inheritance. So did Esau.
“Esau pleaded, “But do you have only one blessing? Oh my father, bless me, too!” Then Esau broke down and wept.
Finally, his father, Isaac, said to him,
“You will live away from the richness of the earth, and away from the dew of the heaven above. You will live by your sword, and you will serve your brother. But when you decide to break free, you will shake his yoke from your neck.”
Genesis 27: 39-40
That your soul would prosper even as your whole life prospers.
Are there troubles? Yes. Are there sicknesses and illnesses and deaths? Lost and stolen blessings? Yes. Rejection and pain? Yes. Is there hunger and famine and war and troubling times?
Yes.
But you don’t have to wait until it gets really bad to come to your fathers house and ask him for some help or a bowl of soup. And you certainly don’t have to sell your birthright to get it. Your birthright is what makes it all available le to you. Just as your choices got you where you are, your place in the family will get you where you need to go. If you don’t despise it.
Weird thing is, our Father loves us and our wild too. He knows how we reject the easy life, the community, the family troubles. He knows how we get impatient, rush, get famished and make some bad calls. The hardest part? We end up rejecting the blessing, too.
How often are we, as individuals, as the church, selling our soul for a loaf of bread. Or staying on the outskirts, running in and out only to get some food, until it gets so bad, we’re so desperately hungry that we’ll do just about anything. I don’t know exactly what kept Esau away. Trouble, pride, envy? Was he too troubled to stay or was it too troubling to come back often. Did he love the wild too much to remember? Did he love something or somewhere else too much to linger himself at home?
“One thing I have asked of the LORD; this is what I desire: to dwell in the house of the LORD all the days of my life, to gaze on the beauty of the LORD and seek Him in His temple. For in the day of trouble He will hide me in His shelter; He will conceal me under the cover of His tent; He will set me high upon a rock.”
Psalm 27:4,5
Have I forgotten? Like the story? I had forgotten, because I didn’t want to remember the uncomfortable parts, or the part that sounded icky to a little girl. Some hairy man’s arm. Now I laugh. I see it means so much more. It some man’s wild. It some man’s identity. It’s not icky. It’s beautiful. And it means so much more than those two words used to describe it. It means it’s something that made Esau different, recognizable. It was the thing that perhaps made him feel despised. But it was the exact thing that His Father knew him as. And Loved him, still, after all these years.
So, I’m asking you, Esau (asking the Esau in me, too). What’s the thing you don’t like? What’s the things that makes you uncomfortable about others? Or about yourself? What’s the thing you think made you different, that drove you to a “better place”, a different life for yourself, by yourself?
Do you know that your Father sees who you are, already? Who you always were? He recognizes you and he knows you feel wild and he knows why you left. He knows why you rejected some things, that didn’t seem to fit right. But still. He never rejected you.
He still calls you His son. He still has a place for you, a bowl of soup, a loaf of bread. You won’t even have to pay for it and you certainly don’t have to beg your brother for it. You are His son.
“Though my father and mother forsake me, the LORD will receive me.”
Psalm 27:10
And He’s loved you all along. You can still be wild. You’ll always be wild. But you can be loved.
Come back to the Father, your Father. He’s got what you need to fill your soul, and your belly. You can ask Him- it’s your birthright. And it’s His delight. You don’t have to have your blessing stolen either. God is not a man that He should lie. But He is limited by our willingness to receive.
You can’t choose your blessing, but you can choose to be blessed, in whatever portion He decides. Go ahead and ask Him what He has for you. Your loving Father, for your full portion. For what He longs to give you, what would be more than enough, to set you free, and to overflow to others? To help set others free too?
The time is now to come out from under your oppressor and be free. It has always been your portion. It’s time to stop settling for less and start settling for nothing but more… of Him.
He’s the God of the Universe. He has more than enough for everyone. And nobody needs to sell their soul to get there. Not to one another, not to any brother, not to any tent or any wilderness either- within or without. Not for a bowl of soup or a piece of bread.
He already bought your birthright. It’s settled in Christ. Don’t settle. Come home.
“Still I am certain to see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait patiently for the LORD; be strong and courageous. Wait patiently for the LORD!”
I have people slide in my messages. Some say “keep going”, some say “Thank you for speaking out.” A few say “be quiet.” “I love you, but you shouldn’t..” (I’m sure more think it 😂)
Maybe you’re reading this and you fall into one camp or another. You can tell me how you feel or don’t, it’s fine. Honestly, I love to hear your perspective. But It doesn’t determine my direction. I’m not a blogger seeking feedback, I’m a daughter of Christ seeking His. I’m just a writer, taking notes..
A year ago something changed for me. I was in a coaching group and my fabulous coach and her team were giving me feedback on this website and where I was heading. At the time I consider myself a mom blogger but I was feeling pulled toward something else too. I guess you could say I was in between stages of growth. They gave me feedback about what was wrong with my site and, though I didn’t find it very comfortable, I didn’t resist it either. I listened, with an open heart.
Until one of them said a specific thing I “needed” to do, and immediately in my heart, something rose up and I said “no”. It want defensive or defiant. They weren’t wrong. But suddenly, I knew it wasn’t right for me, and so many questions I had became clear. What happened in that moment, is what I thought I have been doing and what I wrestled with needing to do next became so evident to me. I said so. In that moment, I found my voice. And you know what happened? My coach said the best thing any coach can ever say to you. “I don’t have to understand. You feel the Holy Spirit showing you something, and you have to follow that.”
I hit the ground running and things haven’t looked the same since. Maybe you’ve noticed. Maybe you haven’t. That’s fine. Whether or not you’ve read any of the posts, I really mean it, it’s fine.
Because I mean what I say and write- about not caring what others think, listening to your heart, being free to follow God, we were made for a purpose, and His Love is everything. I wrestle with, listen for, and absorb these truths. I stumble and seek to live them out myself. Because I’m smitten by this Love. I process it out loud, I share quickly, I let others in on the treasures I find, and I invite you to journey, too. Your journey doesn’t have to look like mine, you don’t have to agree with everything or anything I say. But I hope to scatter good seeds, that some would be planted well. I scatter often, pray the bad ones fall away, and the good ones grow. I scatter often, even if it’s only in the wind.
Am I right about everything (every post/opinion/all politics, etc?) I’m sure not. I’m also sure I’m not for everyone. My job is not to fill your feed with whatever you’re looking for. My job is to fill mine with whatever I feel fit to share, whatever I find on my way.
I don’t care if it makes you comfortable or uncomfortable. I don’t care if you like me or don’t. It’s not what I’m after. I’m not here for anyone’s approval or comfort. Mine included. I love your beautiful soul. I seek to find truth, to speak truth and to keep listening for Truth…
We talk an awful lot about finding our voice in the world. And we should. Use them for something important. Something that matters. We’re wise to take time to make sure it’s tied to something besides our every whim. Something besides making men cheer or groan. Tied to something beyond ourselves. For me that’s God. A living, breathing God who gives me feedback, who speaks to me, who guides me along the way.
I’m just a writer, listening for God’s heartbeat, hearing His love song over His creation, and I’m passing it along. No matter how imperfectly. I don’t need to be perfect, that was never a prerequisite, nor to please everyone. I only need to please One, to get His feedback, and to keep going. (So do you!).
Even as I type this a song I’ve never heard is playing. “Nothing’s gonna hold me back any longer!” Is fear of man going to keep holding you back??
Spend time listening to God’s heartbeat. Spending time listening to what He has to say, to what His plans are for you. So you can know the love of God, know your purpose in God, know how to live in it and know how to share.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love.
Hey, I'm Courtney, a pretty ordinary girl who thinks we've all been called to an extraordinary life and love story with God. I'm passionate about family, faith, motherhood, and the adventure of every day. I write lots of words, mostly because I can’t help it- and I think it's one of the things I was born to do. I hope that something I write encourages you, to walk in your own unique purpose and calling, set free to love and give it away, starting wherever you are today. That's what Courting the Extraordinary is all about. Finding the good all around you, and giving it away. Finding, too, the God of all goodness who wants to walk with you.
I love quiet mornings, coffee, prayer and “work” before sunrise. Quality time with my family is my jam. I can be found grinning ear to ear when we're out on an adventure. Whether that's in our own backyard or exploring someplace new all-together, I’ll for sure note something beautiful about nature aloud-and maybe repeatedly, ha!. Life is a beautiful, precious gift, and an adventurous path to travel! We might as well learn how to love. 