Category Archives: freedom

on trial …

Tough morning; tough night. And I don’t like tough nights. Every now and again, one comes along, and I have to wrestle my heart out before Jesus. I bring the load I’m carrying, the heaviness that’s weighing on my heart, and cast it all at his feet.

What now, Lord? How does this fit into what we’re doing here together?

Condemnation is a wretched load to carry, one of Satan’s favorite weapons. If he can get us to discredit ourselves, continually demean ourselves regarding the sins from our past, then he has accomplished what he’s set out to accomplish—to steal, kill, and destroy.

Steal our testimony.
Kill out witness.
Destroy our fruitfulness.

This is the enemy’s goal for any soul who’s known the cleansing work of the cross. The cross is powerful and beautiful, the undeniable witness of a Father’s love. It is a grace unspeakable and full of glory. The cross trumps our sin. Period. But every now and again, a tough night comes along, and the devil finds his opportunity to put us back on the witness stand so that we might plead our case for a mercy that’s already been given. My case was resolved at Calvary. So was yours. Accordingly, we should no longer take the witness stand on our behalf. Instead, we should allow Jesus Christ to do what he came to earth to do.

That doing? To be our saving grace. This is the crux of our faith—the heart of the Christian life. Christ has taken our place as the accused, and he is far more equipped to handle the case against him than we are in handling the enemy’s case against us. And so, this morning, I step away from the bench and walk down the courthouse steps as a free woman. What the enemy has meant for evil, God has resolved for his good and for his kingdom through the power of his cross.

Friends, if you’ve had a tough night like me, maybe even a tough season where you’ve felt the weight of the enemy’s condemnation pressing heavily upon your heart, you can unload that heaviness today. Give it all back to Jesus, place it in his capable hands, and live your freedom.

Share your testimony.
Live your witness.
Sow generously; reap fruitfully.

This is God’s goal for all of us who’ve known the cleansing work of the cross.

Amen. So be it.


my Father’s world, not the government’s . . .

From where I’m sitting this morning, I see the witness of the changing season. The tree that hedges my bedroom window is beginning to sharpen in color, while surrendering a leaf to the wind every few minutes. I could stare at it for hours. What rich beauty there is in monitoring God’s creation! How foolish I’d be to try and override his seasonal preferences. How presumptuous I’d be to keep the beauty all to myself.

This is my Father’s world. One walks in dangerous territory when one tries to take the reins away from him.

When we try to manipulate God’s creation by cutting off access to an ocean or to the color of fall so brilliantly displayed in his mountains or even to the ground where men laid down their lives for freedom, we’re walking a dangerous line. When control becomes an issue, God takes issue.

Who are we to play games with his waters, his trees, his land? With his words he spoke them into existence. With his words he can easily remove them. What must he think of our posturing and our pride?

How foolish we are. How bold we’ve become. Little gods running around, idols fresh off the assembly line from the factory of Man Knows Best, all the while under the watchful eyes of the God who knows best and who must (if he is prone to laughter and tears) both chuckle and cry at the absurdity of it all.

He is not unfamiliar with this script. He’s read it before, seen it play itself out on the stage of history time and again. Man trying to control one another; man trying to control God. And while the former might actually come to fruition on occasion, the latter will fail every time. Man cannot take away from God what has always belonged to him.

This is my Father’s world. And while our view of it might currently be limited by barricades and police officers, God sees it all. No one, no law, no amount of power and pride can block his view. From his vantage point, it is clear what we’ve become.

We’re no longer one nation under One God but, instead, many nations serving many gods. Let’s be honest. Let’s call it for what it is. We’re a fractured people, broken down and woefully off track from our beginnings.

I cannot change the climate in our nation’s capital today, any more than I can amend the hearts of mankind. But I can pray for the climate and amendment of my own heart, and I can do so while surrounded by the seasonal witness of a fall tree that isn’t affected by the seasonal shifts of man’s need to control it.

Together, the tree and I and our Creator will work it through. It’s enough to carry me forward, maybe even enough to carry you as well. If you’re feeling overwhelmed by the foolishness of man today, might I encourage you to find a window view or find an undisturbed, unmonitored path in your community and take a walk with the Father in his world? What you will find there will make sense to your heart and bring peace to your spirit.

May the rich and certain witness of fall be the rich and certain witness of God’s enduring, unchanging, and formidable strength in your life. He sees from above what man is trying to prevent from below. Nothing can block us from his view.

Peace for the journey,

Confessions of a Reluctant Juror {handling the truth}

Truth exists. Truth isn’t relative. Sometimes, however, truth gets buried beneath the details—layer upon layer of story that muddy up the process of discovery. Why conceal it? To quote Jack Nicholson’s famous line from the movie A Few Good Men . . .

“You can’t handle the truth.”

The truth is, once the layers of a story begin to accumulate, once personal involvement becomes so thick and entangled in the details, and once a step or two is taken across the line that exists between honesty and deception, well, handling the truth means handling the history related to that truth. For some people, it’s impossible to go there, to live there . . . with truth.

Handling truth. Handling lies. This has been my portion over this past week, sorting out the intricate details of a civil case. With the invaluable aid of the other eleven jurors sitting next to me, we did our best to dig through the layers of one particular story. In doing so, we reached a conclusion based on the minimal amount of evidence presented to us.

Yesterday afternoon, we walked away from one another and back into our own lives—our personal stories that now include a chapter called Room 327. The truth? Well, I think some of it remains back in that courthouse, buried in the hearts of the plaintiff and defendant involved in the case. Between the two of them, truth exists. I’m fairly confident in my conclusion, though, that neither one of them willingly wants to handle it. The story is so deep and its layers so thick that truth no longer has a commanding voice in the matter, perhaps only a faint whisper every now and again.

Handling truth. Putting our hands on the Bible and promising to tell it, so help us God.

So . . .

Help us, God. Help me, God. To handle the truth. To reverently, passionately, confidently, and with full assurance hold truth. Speak truth. Mean what I say and say what I mean. Put my hand on the Bible and have it signify something . . . signify everything, knowing that as I live my life before men, I first and most importantly live my life before God.

God is Truth (see John 14:6). He knows truth. And when I have failed to get to the truth of the matter as it pertains to my own life and to the lives of others, God alone holds the key to perfect understanding. He has sorted out the details, sifted through the layers, and that which remains hidden to us (sometimes by us) has already been found by him. Truth cannot be concealed from God’s eyes; truth is revealed . . . always, ever-present and crystal clear. Sometimes, however, our vision is blurred by the fig leaves we use to hide our many sins, our shame, and the overwhelming pride that led us to believe we could live independently from truth.

To live truthfully, is to bow soul-naked before God. Those unwilling to do so are those who have no fear of God. Instead, they fear man, a tangible fear to be certain. But it’s not an eternal fear. If we could really take hold of the everlasting, take hold of the truth that what is happening down here on planet earth is but a dress rehearsal for what is to come for our eternal tomorrows, then we’d no longer have to place our hands on the Bible and swear our allegiances to truth. We’d just live truth. Our word would be our oath and our souls would breathe easier. Our crosses would be fewer and our burdens lightly carried.

Handling truth. How goes it in your own life? Where does your allegiance lie? Who do you fear most . . . man or God? When was the last time you bowed soul-naked before your Creator and allowed him to sort through the layers of your story to get to the truth? You may not be able to handle the truth, but God can. God does. God is. And with the help of his Holy Spirit, he will release you from the fig leaves that are preventing you from your freedom walk in this earth-garden.

I pray that kind of freedom for each one of you today. I’m praying it for myself, to live so honestly before God and before you that we don’t have to waste a moment in the courtroom of life to get to the truth.

The truth is . . . my soul has been profoundly affected by my experience this last week. My heart is open to all the ways that God may want to use it to teach me more about him, more about his people, and how better to live that more in this earth-garden until he calls me home to his heavenly one.

Soul naked before the Father. Even so I come, Lord Jesus. Teach me to handle your truth. As always, friends . . .

Peace for the journey,

on burying the blue sweater . . .

 “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?” –Isaiah 43:18-19

It’s time to throw-away the blue sweater (modeled here by mini-me, a.k.a. Miss Amelia).

How do I know the time has come? I just know. Sometimes a heart just knows.

It might be obvious to you and others that I probably should have let this one go a long time ago, but it’s been my friend for over twenty years . . . a lot of memories and a lot of back story to this particular sweater. It’s tough letting go of a friend like this.

Perhaps you understand. Maybe you have such a friend—a “holding on to” that is holding on as well, tenaciously gripping your hand and heart and unwilling to release you on your way. Could it be that years of comfortableness (of living with the old and with what’s easy) have robbed you of something new, something better?

Maybe, like me, you’re blinded to your need. To others, your need is obvious; your sweater is old, torn and tattered by years of overuse but rather than releasing it to the junk pile, you’d rather squeeze a few more wears out of it. You won’t force the issue, because forcing the issue means facing it as well.

If this is you, might I offer you a checklist of sorts, a few diagnostic prods when assessing your need for a new sweater? And lest you think I’m solely talking about the clothing that hangs in your closet, let me assure you that, greater still, I’m talking about the clothing that hangs in your heart, your mind and soul as well.

How do you know when it is time to throw out a sweater?

  • When it has outlived its usefulness.
  • When it reveals more than it conceals.
  • When the color fades.
  • When it prevents space in the closet from being available for something new.
  • When it adds to your load rather than easing it.
  • When it no longer warms your frame.
  • And most importantly (at least for me in this season), it’s time to throw out a sweater when it becomes a stumbling block to others, especially to those who sit beneath my influence. If I can’t let go of an old sweater from time to time—if I cannot release that which is no longer beneficial to my well-being—then how can I expect them to release theirs? What is modeled is often what is lived. I must be willing to rid my closet of the non-essentials so that my children might experience the freedom of doing the same.

Indeed, sometimes a heart just knows when it’s time to let go. Today I bury this sweater. Tomorrow, possibly something greater. It’s all in keeping with God’s “new” for my life.

I challenge you to do the same. Take a look in your closet today; examine the frayed edges of your heart, soul, mind, and spirit. Do so with this checklist in mind. Maybe there’s a sweater or two that needs to join mine in burial. It’s not always easy saying good-bye to a well-loved, well-worn friend, but sometimes, it’s required if we want to make room for God’s new dispensation of grace.

May our Father grant you his discernment, his strength, and his peace in the “letting go.” I’ll meet you graveside, friends, and we will glory together in the release and in the freedom that is ours in Christ Jesus! As always . . .

Peace for the journey,

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