by Stacey | May 21, 2015 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
An albatross of sin drives nails through innocence. You are blameless in judgment. Yet, my fractured bones rejoice. Steadfast love and fragrant mercy blot out transgressions. You teach wisdom, and lead the penitent heart into repentance. You absorb my stain, leaving me clean. Not for me, but for You.
And I sing a new song, a song of righteousness, praising you and only you. I bring you the sacrifice of my broken spirit, my fragmented and contrite heart, myself brought low before you. I offer praise and choose joy when life is not joyful. I trust that you, God, and only you, are in control when life spins out of control. I worship you with a joy-filled heart and choose to believe you are good, even when life is not.
When I don’t feel your goodness, when circumstances whisper you have betrayed me, my praise is a sacrifice. When I lay on the altar my unfulfilled desires and choose to trust the God I cannot understand – it is a sacrifice of praise.
This joy is not happiness, it is not a bubbling of thanks spilling out in gratitude. It is a settled belief that you are good. That despite feelings, circumstances, uncertainties, and unanswered questions, you hold it all. And when I worship here, in the difficulty of now, my praise becomes an offering of trust and adoration that does not hinge on getting my way. It is a beautiful, full-surrender, that might be scary, but is oh, so good.
It is far too easy to show up every Sunday and never really show-up. And Lord, I want to show up. I want to be present, invested, all-in, for your plans for your ultimate glory. I know it won’t be easy, I am trying to hold loosely, I tremble over what might lay on the road ahead, but I believe this is your calling for me – for all of your children – to praise you on the narrow road during the good and the bad, the hard and the easy, all for your glory.
It is my sacrifice of praise. And these fractured bones rejoice.
by Stacey | May 14, 2015 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
It comes like a summer drought, draining life and cracking open what once was whole. It dehydrates the broken, drying up hope.
Cotton-mouth despair blows fragmented heart pieces like tumbleweed across the prairie. The earth groans under weighty grief. Can anyone refresh the broken?
Yes, he whispers
The Spirit covers like a long-awaited dew, drenching the parched heart. Meditate on Him, His Word, on what He has done. Ponder the work of His hands. God is our hope. He is our future. He is our peace.
Flee toward true refuge. To the God of creation. The God of salvation. Your God. His good Spirit leads, so lift up your soul. Nothing is too difficult. He satisfies the thirsty. Draw water from His well of salvation.
by Stacey | Apr 30, 2015 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
We are visitors, I know. But somehow I never considered you going on ahead. I never considered what it would be like to walk this earth without you. To not hear your voice. Not see your smile. Not feel your touch.
We lived in a way that presumed upon tomorrow, but now we have only yesterday. What would I say or do if we had another day? Would I recognize it as a treasure, or would I fritter it away chasing things that cannot satisfy? Would I know what really matters?
Yesterday is gone, and I mourn for today, but not like someone without hope because tomorrow is coming. A thousand tomorrows. A thousand tomorrows joining you in singing out love to our great and mighty God in the place where tears are no more. The illusion lies and claims our good-bye is forever, but really, you are just a breath away. A heartbeat. And when I inhale eternity, I will see you again, and join in the never-ending praise of our Creator.
So I won’t say good-bye, I say, until then.
by Stacey | Apr 23, 2015 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
I love to take a passage of Scripture that contains general instruction to believers and make it personal. I prefer to study the English Standard Version (ESV), but after studying a passage in the ESV, I will often read the paraphrase in The Message. Then, I personalize the passage, praying the words, challenging my heart, and asking the Holy Spirit to convict me to change. The challenge below comes from Colossians 3:1-17.
If I’m serious about my faith I must live it, and kill off everything connected to my old ways: sexual promiscuity, impurity, lust, bad temper, irritability, meanness, profanity, dishonesty, doing whatever I feel like whenever I feel like it, and grabbing whatever attracts my fancy. I can’t shuffle along, eyes to the ground, self-absorbed. That life is shaped by things and feelings instead of by God. That old life is dead and I’m done with it.
I must be alert, even-tempered, content with second place, and quick to forgive. I must see things from Christ’s perspective, pursue the things over which Christ presides. My new life—which is my real life—is with Christ in God. He is my life. When Christ appears again, the real me will show up too—the me He has made beautiful for His glory.
,As one, chosen by God for this new life of love, I must dress myself in the believer’s uniform: compassion, kindness, humility, quiet strength, discipline and love.
As I cultivate thankfulness and give the Word of God priority, I can wisely instruct and direct my children and others. And as a result, I sing my heart out to God! May every detail in my life, my words, my actions, be done in the name of the Master, Jesus, thanking God the Father every step of the way.
by Stacey | Apr 2, 2015 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
Every good story has an emotional black moment where all seems lost. The hero laments in the ashes of his shattered dreams. Betrayal, abandonment, you-fill-in-the-blank, all prevent the desired happily-ever-after. There is no solution in sight. The villain is bigger, stronger, and more powerful than first thought. Evil celebrates certain victory—or so it seems.
This pivotal point in the story resonates with readers because good fiction is patterned after real-life. All our lives lead toward a black moment, a moment when we sit at the crossroads and know our choices, our lifestyle, our sin have separated us from God and there is nothing that we can do to recover and make it right. In that moment we fully recognize the cost of our sin—inevitable death. The black moment may be an exciting crisis point in a novel, but in real life it brings horrifying, soul-crushing, devastation.
In my black moment, the reality of my wretchedness fell heavy over me and I was incapable of taking it away. The weight of my sin devastated my lost soul. The enemy celebrated, whispering lies into my ear, “I have won. There is no hope.”
Us fiction-junkies know better than to close the book at the black-moment. We keep reading, clinging to the hope that somehow good is victorious. We don’t know how, we don’t know when, but we fervently flip the pages desperate to learn how good triumphs.
Good fiction is patterned after reality. In my darkness I longed for that last-minute rescue from my own wretched sin. Deep down, I wanted a hero to swoop in and save the day. I couldn’t fathom how it was possible, yet that hope burned inside refusing to die. In my darkness, God turned the page and I discovered that nothing—and I mean nothing—can derail God’s plans for His children.
Way back in history, a black moment came upon Egypt. The Israelites were demanding their release. Pharaoh refused. Judgement was coming. All the first-born sons were to die.
Years later, on a hill named Golgotha, darkness fell over the disciples. Everything they had believed in breathed His last on the cross. Evil stole Hope. The villain was bigger, stronger, and more powerful than first thought. With no answer in sight, the disciples lamented in the ashes of their shattered dreams. They had lost everything. This horrifying soul-crushing crossroads stole their happily-eve-after—or so it seemed.
If we stop reading here, both historical accounts end tragic. But God turns the page and reveals that nothing—and I mean nothing—can derail His plans for His children.
In Egypt, the people of God were instructed to sacrifice a perfect lamb and then take the blood from that lamb and spread it over their doorposts, marking the inhabitants of their homes as belonging to God. The Spirit of God would “passover” that home and allow the child to live.
Three days after Golgotha, Christ is risen from the dead proving that death has no hold on Him, or on all who believe in His name. That reality gives hope to every black moment. He will rescue all who call on His name. He will reveal the way of escape.
As a black-moment judgement comes to my wretched soul, I can, by God’s mercy, be saved by a passover of sorts. God has provided the perfect lamb, His Son—the Lamb of God. The blood of Christ is spilled once and for all and washes clean those who come to Him in repentance and faith. Christ’s blood marks me as His own when I surrender to God. The blood of Christ protects my soul from deserving judgement.
In that surrender I find, like Israelites and the disciples found, that in the midst of dark and desperate days, Hope is not dead. Whether it has been dark for 3 hours, 3 days, 3 years, or 3 decades, resurrection Sunday gives hope a name – His name is Jesus.
If you’re in a black moment, at a cross-roads, and all seems lost, don’t stop here. Evil doesn’t have to win. The page has been turned and you can surrender to Hope. His name is Jesus.
by Stacey | Mar 11, 2015 | Devotionals, reflections, and encouragement
When the battle rages and exhaustion overwhelms, I devour the only medication that truly heals the soul. I rewrite comforting selections of Scripture and remind myself of my total dependence upon on the Lord. Here are some bits from Psalm 86 and 88. They are medicine for my soul.
O Lord, God of my salvation, I cry out day and night before you. Let my prayer come before you, incline your ear to my cry. My soul is full of troubles. I am a man without strength.
You are perfect in love, you are the answer to every question, to every need. Your word is the medicine that I need.
You, O Lord, are merciful and gracious, slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness. Turn to me and be gracious to me. Give your strength to your servant.
Teach me your ways so I may walk in the truth. Unite my heart to fear your name.
I give thanks to you Lord with my whole heart. I will glorify your name forever.
