CatFitzGerald

The In Between

It’s Saturday.

Here in South Carolina, it’s unusually cold. It’s rainy and windy and all-around miserable, but it seems to happen most Easter weekends. We buy cute dresses with flowers and short sleeves, strappy sandals, new spring purses. Then old man winter says, “uh-uh” and slaps us with a cold snap that sends us running to the coat closet.

In Jerusalem today, temps will reach near 80 degrees and be mostly sunny. Pretty typical this time of year.

If hanging on a cross isn’t bad enough in itself, imagine hanging on one in the scorching heat, the sun beating down upon your bruised and bleeding body. That’s what Jesus endured yesterday. Good Friday.

But today is Saturday.

The weather doesn’t matter because you’re hiding in a secret room, wondering how everything went so wrong, hoping the Jewish religious leaders don’t find you. Did you completely misunderstand? This was not supposed to happen. (Even though Jesus himself told you it would.)

Now what? It’s Saturday, and your whole world has not only been turned upside down, you’ve been gutted. Your leader, your guide, your friend, your hope, the one you ordered your life around, is gone. Dead. You’ve no idea what to do next.

Because it’s Saturday, and you’re in between what you know and what you don’t know.

But you do.

Because Jesus told you.

Read His words. Believe them.

It’s Saturday. It’s cold and rainy. Maybe where you are it’s warm and sunny, outside anyway, but not in your soul.

Get on your knees and pray your way through this in between struggle. The Son has risen, and He is with you always. Rest and sleep and wake to the new day He has waiting for you.

The disciples were in for the biggest surprise of their lives. It’s hard to see Sunday when you’re blinded by the pain and loss of Saturday. You’re bewildered and afraid. But it’s okay. Hang on. Jesus is there. He will never leave you or forget you. Every day may seem like Saturday to you, but I promise you that Sunday is coming.

Goodbye to you 2022!

2022 has been one of those years. You know the kind. Wonderful memories, milestones, and events you would not care to repeat. But God is always good through it all. Otherwise, I’d just crack my head against the wall.

I began the year humorously chasing a granddog through the frozen rainy tundra that we call Bailey Woods. His name is Romeo, and the irony was thick as mud when I called out his name.

Our oldest grandchild graduated college this year, two grands finished high school and started college. Two more turned sixteen, got driver’s licenses and cars.

I got a hearing aid.

I went to North Carolina to house/pet sit for my daughter and tried standup paddle boarding for the first and last time. My granddaughter was insistent that “you can do it, Nonnie”, but she’s sixteen and doesn’t understand.

I got plantar fasciitis and underwent physical therapy for two months.

I went to North Carolina again to house/pet sit. Took the kayak. It stayed in the car.

We bought a new mattress! It really is the little things.

My third novel released in September, and I had two booksigning events.

I attended a wonderful mini retreat in Boone, NC with my best friend all the way back to college. Four women in a hundred-year-old farmhouse nestled in the mountains, sharing and talking about Jesus.

On October 24th, I drove an hour and a half to have lunch with some high school friends. We try to get together every couple of months and catch up.

All hell broke loose right after lunch.

I fell and fractured my left kneecap and sprained both ankles.

I’ve been looking through my calendar as I write this and it’s amazing to see all the little appointments here and there, scattered across the little squares of each month. Granted, a number of them are medical appointments, but still. Many of them are reminders of birthdays and lunches and meetings. Haircuts, pest control, Bible study.

I began teaching a Bible study in September and despite my injury, was able to finish up on schedule. We studied Esther. A young Jewish orphan who became Queen of Persia. Only God.

The November and December squares are filled with doctor’s appointments and physical therapy. I was able to attend a Christmas event with my book which was a wonderful first outing, but it just about did me in, I gotta tell ya.

What you don’t see in the November and December squares are the visits from family and friends to bring food and cheer me up. Hardly a day went by without a call or text from someone checking on me or a card in the mail. People being the hands and feet of Jesus. I’m not used to being the recipient of that. It was hard. I’m a strong, independent woman. It’s the way I was raised, and it runs deep. I needed assistance for almost everything, and I hate asking for help.

My husband had to take over things he usually doesn’t think about. I had to let go of things I think about all the time. I was on crutches and in a brace for two months.

Grace. Humility. Loads of it.

I’ve been off the crutches for about three weeks, and as of December 27th, I’m done with the brace as well. That was an unexpected late Christmas gift. I’ve got another month of physical therapy and was expecting to need the brace throughout.

Grace. Mercy. Loads of it.

This has been a precious year of celebrations and challenges. I am thankful for it as I say goodbye to it and look forward to carrying grace, humility, and mercy into the New Year.

“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believed in Him, would not perish but have everlasting life.” John 3:16

The Unexpected and Unwanted

I was shocked to see that my last post was December of last year! Where has 2022 gone? It has been a busy year with the finishing up and publishing of my third novel, also getting started on number four.

There were family issues in the mix that took time and energy. And patience. Lots of patience. There were graduations. There were two trips to our youngest daughter’s house to pet sit. My teenage granddaughter was there for part of the first visit, and I nearly killed myself trying to standup paddleboard at her behest. She was very encouraging, but after face planting in the water for the second time, I decided that sit down paddleboarding should be a thing. Worked great!

Late summer rolled around, the new book released, and I began the tedious work of marketing and setting up book signings. Not my thing but necessary if I want to actually sell books.

Fall slipped in almost unnoticed, and I reveled in the cooler air and diminishing humidity. Somewhat energized, I thoroughly enjoyed the first signing and looked forward to having lunch with high school friends back in my hometown, about an hour and a half away. They have been some of my biggest cheerleaders since I began writing, and they were excited about the new book. We had a wonderful time together, and they walked away happy with their signed copies. I walked away to get back in my car, stepped off the edge of uneven pavement and crash landed in the street. I yelled for my friends, and they rushed to my side. After helping me up, they stayed with me for a bit as I caught my breath. My right ankle was swelling, so I removed my boot and tossed it in the passenger seat. The left knee of my favorite leggings was torn, and I was unable to lift my leg. Nancy and Donna helped me get situated in my car seat, concern etched on their faces about my ability to drive. I assured them I would be fine and proceeded to pray myself home, not knowing that my left kneecap was fractured.

Long story short, I had a badly sprained ankle and a fractured kneecap that required surgery. I have now been in a locked straight leg brace for eleven days. My first post-op visit is next Tuesday, at which time I hope to lose the twenty pounds of bandages I’m carrying. The brace will be an unwelcome companion for some time.

Unexpected and unwanted.

That’s an understatement. In the blink of an eye, I went from happy and healthy to unhappy and damaged, dependent on someone else for most everything. I am, thankfully, able to hobble around on crutches. The prognosis is good but there’s no guarantee of my return to one hundred percent range of motion. I am, after all, a mature lady.

My accident gave reality once again to the unpleasant fact that our lives can change in a heartbeat. I consider myself lucky and blessed. A dear friend is in rehab recovering from serious injuries sustained in a car accident a few weeks ago. She has a long road ahead of her.

The thing is, as a Christian, I don’t believe in coincidences. Whatever happens is either ordained or permitted by God. And there’s always a lesson in it. I’m still working on the lesson in my mishap, but I know it’s there. I hope it’s not for patience. I learned a long time ago not to pray for patience. Maybe I haven’t learned it quite as well as I like to think.

Whatever it is, it will reveal itself in due time. God’s time, not mine. Because His timing is perfect. And His lessons are perfect. Tailor made.

God wanted to put me on my backside for some reason. Maybe because I needed to write this to encourage someone else. If so, then take heart, dear one. Lean on the Lord for strength and trust Him with everything you’ve got. He will lead, drag, or pull you through it. I promise. So does He.

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:3-4 NIV 1984

“Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves receive from God. ” 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 NIV 1984

So, this is Christmas…

No, I am most certainly not channeling John Lennon in today’s blog, but that is what came to me while I was pondering a title. But I do think, if we’re being honest, that is what a lot of folks wonder, if only to themselves, this time of year. The expectations and pressures of this season can be crushing, almost unbearable.

Why don’t I feel joyful? What’s wrong with me?

Maybe you’re not in a good place financially. Or emotionally. Or spiritually. Maybe you just don’t want to “do Christmas.” The idea of sparkly, shiny stuff everywhere and Christmas music and Ho-Ho-Ho makes you want to climb into bed and not come out until January. Mid-January at that.

I get it.

I have pasted on my holiday face a time or two, mostly for the sake of others who really needed Christmas. Not the glitz and glitter or the presents but the hope and the joy that Christmas represents. I needed it, too. So, I decorated. I put up the tree, and I shopped and wrapped and cooked and played Christmas music. And I made myself focus on that little baby lying in the feeding trough of a stable. That little baby boy who was born to die. For me.

Now, I don’t know about you, but I’ve never had to ride a camel or donkey while nine months pregnant. I did not give birth to my daughter in a barn, nor did I have to flee for my life with a toddler to another country. I’ve also not been required to watch my child beaten and tortured to the point of death.

I’ve lost my parents, a husband, and a grandson, not to mention dear friends. Grief is a real and devastating visceral thing. Maybe this year, you need to hide out. And that’s okay. But don’t do it alone. And by that, I don’t mean with other people around, but with God, who is always around. Emmanuel. Let the people in to the extent you can. You need people who love you and will pray for you but also understand that you need space. If you have people like that in your life, you are blessed.

Reading Scripture and singing hymns, or even just reading the words of hymns, has always been a welcome balm to my soul. Even when I was crying through it all. Let the beauty and promise of Christmas wash over you this year. Let it nourish your soul and remind you of the One who loves you always and best. The One who will never leave or forsake you. Remember that Christmas is about Him. Worship. Lift your hands. Cry.

O come, O come, Emmanuel…

This is Christmas.

A Lengthy Illness

I have a terminal condition.

So do you.

It’s called life.

We’re born with it and carry it until we take our final breaths. Sometimes life is what kills us. Ironic, isn’t it? The daily struggle to make ends meet, to take another step, make another decision, just survive, is enough to wear us out. To make us want to throw in the towel and give up. Bury our heads in the sand. Whatever tired euphemism works to convey, “I’ve had enough. I can’t do this anymore.”

The dictionary on my phone has twenty-six definitions for life as a noun, three as an adjective, and another eight as an idiom. The first two are purely scientific, i.e, organisms and all that other stuff from ninth grade biology class. Numbers three and four caught my attention:

the animate existence or period of animate existence of an individual (a short life, a full life)
a corresponding state, existence, or principle of existence conceived of as belonging to the soul (eternal life)

When someone dies young, we say, “He only lived a short life.” If one dies at an older age, we might say, “She lived a full life.”

But did he? Did she?

In reality, her terminal condition just lasted longer.

We are hard-wired to think if someone dies young, it’s a waste. When someone dies much older, well, it was time for them to go. He or she lived a full life. I’ve known people who lived into their eighties and virtually had nothing to show for it. Sure, there might have been children and grandchildren, but did their existence for seven decades make a difference? And I mean, for eternity, not that they discovered a cure for cancer.

I’ve also known children who died. That is always a tragedy, no matter how you look at it. But a waste? Absolutely not. Lives can be permanently changed, enriched, and blessed by the sheer existence of a child. Children who live only for a few years can have more impact than people who lived for decades.

Not one of us knows how much time we’ve been allotted when we enter this world. We all suffer a terminal condition from birth. For some of us, it’s a lengthy illness, this thing called life. For others, it’s all too brief.

However old you are right now, before your condition becomes fatal, look back and ask yourself, “Have I made a difference?” The difference doesn’t have to be huge, it just has to be important to someone. And it needs to be important for eternity. Because whatever we do here is temporary. Memories fade. If your answer is no, then change it! Do it now because now is all you have.

I have already endured a fairly lengthy illness but that doesn’t mean I get to cruise for the remainder of my journey. There is no retirement from God’s work, so I want the time I have left to count for something as well. I want to store up some more treasures in heaven.

“Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21) ESV

Any life, long or short, can be full. Children don’t choose. They just live. I want to do both. I want more than just an animate existence. How about you?

The First Seed

This might be kind of long, so grab your latte and get comfy.

Why is it that people can walk through a beautiful landscaped garden and know without a doubt there was a talented designer behind it yet not believe there was a Master Designer behind the earth? How can anyone believe that all we see around us “just happened?” Do you stroll through an art gallery or museum, gazing in awe at the masterpieces there and question how they came to be? Of course not. You know there was a painter, a sculptor, whose hands toiled to produce the vision of beauty before you. Have you ever visited Biltmore House in Asheville, NC during spring? It’s breathtaking in its riotous colors and orderly layout. Did the landscape designers till up the soil those many years ago and hope for the best, waking one day to find the beginnings of something that would draw thousands of visitors year after year to behold? Did Van Gogh toss paints into a bucket and throw it at a canvas hoping for Starry Night? Okay, some paintings do look like that, but you get my point.

As messed up as everything seems now, as ugly as some things are, there is still staggering beauty all around us.

Several years ago, my husband and I took a trip out west. I walked around the Grand Tetons and Yellowstone with my mouth open the whole time. (You can always i.d. the tourists. And, there’s the ubiquitous camera hanging around the neck, although that’s been replaced by cell phones.) Trust me when I say that pictures don’t do it justice. The sheer majesty of the mountains. The unstoppable power of the waterfalls roaring through the gorges. A few years later, we were blessed to visit Acadia National Park in Maine and experience a totally different kind of beauty.

Then there’s the beach. The endless ocean, battering the shoreline year after year after year, going no further than what Almighty God ordered.

People look at The Grand Canyon and say it was formed over millions of years. That the deep lakes of the north were formed by glaciers millions of years ago. There’s no way somebody made all this a few thousand years ago!

When God created Adam and Eve, he created them as adults. Does it not make sense that he would create the earth itself in “adult” form? He didn’t just roll up a ball of dirt and throw out some seeds while Adam and Eve hung out waiting for things to grow and mature.

Where did all the flowers come from?

Seed.

Where did the seed come from?

Another flower.

Where did that flower come from?

Another seed. And another flower, and another seed, and another flower, and on and on and on…

Where did the first seed come from?

It came from the hand of the Master Gardener, the Grand Designer of everything.

Put down your phone, get up off the sofa, and go outside. Visit the cool of a deep shady forest. Walk beside a raging river and listen to its powerful voice. Pick a tiny wildflower and peer into its intricate details. Gaze upward at a snow-covered mountain. Catch a glimpse of a white-tailed deer as it vanishes in the trees.

Ask yourself where it all came from? Look at creation with new eyes. And see that it is good. So very good.

If you haven’t yet, I would strongly encourage you to visit the Creation Museum and the Ark in Kentucky. To see creation explained alongside evolution’s theory is beyond amazing. To learn how the people and animals on the Ark could actually have lived and thrived will leave you awed. We need more of that. Awe. We’ve become too jaded. We aren’t awed anymore. Yet “everything” is awesome and amazing, right? No, it’s not. We need to be more selective in the use of those words.

What else can possibly be called awesome in comparison to our God and what He has done?

“God saw all that he had made and it was very good.” Genesis 1:31

“By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.” Genesis 2:2-3

Get in the Water!

“So when the people broke camp to cross the Jordan, the priests carrying the ark of the covenant went ahead of them. Now the Jordan is at flood stage all during the harvest. Yet as soon as the priests who carried the ark reached the Jordan and their feet touched the water’s edge, the water from upstream stopped flowing. It piled up in a heap a great distance away…while the water flowing down…was completely cut off. So the people crossed over opposite Jericho. The priests who carried the ark of the covenant of the Lord stood firm on dry ground in the middle of the Jordan while all Israel passed by until the whole nation had completed the crossing on dry ground.” (Joshua 3: 14-17 NIV 1984)

Those people had some faith. They’d heard about God parting the Red Sea for their escape from Egypt, but this is a different generation who didn’t actually experience it. Note the mention of “dry ground” again just as with the Red Sea parting. They were not required to slog through mud. God actually dried the ground for them to easily make their way across. I do not like mud. This makes me happy.

Imagine a different scene if the priests had stopped a few steps short of the river. Balancing the ark while looking down at the water, waiting for it to part, wondering what God was waiting for.

Have you stood at the river waiting for God to act? Wondering what He’s waiting for?

I have. I bet you have as well.

I have refused to put my feet in the water. I have pleaded, begged, and bargained. But, I refused to put my feet in the water. You can drown in water. You can’t always see where you’re going in the water. You can’t see what’s in the water. I spent many summers swimming in the lake, but I much prefer a pool. Because I can see. I can see if there’s anything dangerous or scary in the pool. I know exactly where to find the ladders and steps. There are lots of places to hang on to the side and safely find my way back to solid ground. I always felt a tiny shiver of anxiety swimming in the lake. What’s down there? What is lurking just below my feet?

I didn’t go in the ocean for some thirty-odd years after watching Jaws. I am not joking. Even then it was only because we were at the beach with grandchildren, and I knew I’d be guilt-ridden for the rest of my life if a shark bit them while I was safely nestled beneath my umbrella. Still, I only went in just above my knees. In case either of my daughters are reading this, no worries; I absolutely would have sacrificed myself if an ominous fin had appeared on the horizon.

Are you afraid of what might be in the water? I get it. But, dear one, step in the water, you must. It’s called faith. It’s called trust in the One who loves you so very much.

“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.” (Isaiah 43: 2)

That is one of my favorite verses, and it has kept me balanced throughout my life, no matter the trial or temptation. Notice the word “when” in both sentences. Not “if” but “when”. The Lord has promised trouble in this world. We can’t avoid it. But, we do not have to walk the path of sorrow alone. He has also promised victory if we have faith to trust Him in the deep, dark waters of life.

It takes courage to step into the unknown. If you will trust in the Lord, He will give you the very courage you need to put your feet in the water. After all, He’s already walked on it and is there with His hand outstretched.

“Lord, if it’s you,” Peter replied, “tell me to come to you on the water.”

“Come,” he said.” (Matthew 14:28-29)

Listen. Jesus is speaking to you. “Come.”

If You Weren’t Here

This time of year, I’m thinking of holly, Christmas cookies, pretty ribbons, gifts, and George Bailey.

Say what?

George Bailey. You know, the protagonist of It’s A Wonderful Life. The guy who thinks everyone would be better off without him, better even if he’d never been born. The guy whose wish is granted by a handy, helpful angel named Clarence. George is given the special revelation of what life in Bedford Falls would be minus his existence. As it turns out, George had much more of a positive, beneficial impact than he could’ve imagined. He was actually instrumental in the saving of a couple of lives, not to mention keeping his beloved wife from turning into a nerd afraid of her own shadow. George comes to realize that all is not lost and his wish is rather selfish after all, considering his children would not exist either if he didn’t.

What about you?

Do you ever wish you weren’t here? Wish you’d never been born?

“You formed me in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.” (Psalm 139:13-14)

We are in the midst of a season that, for thousands and thousands of people, brings those kinds of scary thoughts. People who are alone for all kinds of reasons. People who may not be physically alone but still feel isolated emotionally or spiritually. I wish I had some special magic to make your pain go away. I wish I knew just the right words to reach deep down where it hurts and ease your suffering. Unfortunately, none of us will experience a do-over in life. An opportunity to undo a decision or take back a hurtful comment. To take that other fork in the road. All any of us can do is move forward. Even if forward doesn’t look particularly inviting.

I don’t know your specific situation, the challenges you’re facing, but I do know one thing.

You are loved.

Maybe you don’t have family or even close friends.

You are still loved.

Maybe you will spend Christmas by yourself. Maybe you’ll spend it with others. But inside you’re still alone.

God loves you.

I know that sounds so trite and empty to someone who’s desperate. But it’s true. It. Is. So. True.

“For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son that whoever believes in Him will not die but have everlasting life.” (John 3:16 Emphasis mine)

If you were the only living, breathing human on earth, Jesus would still have died for you. You!

I have been overwhelmed with grief and hopelessness. I know what it feels like. Even as a child of God, I felt I was at the end of my rope. But I cried out in agony to my heavenly Father, begging Him to hear me, answer me, do something, anything to ease my suffering.

He did not.

What He did, after I fully surrendered the situation and myself to Him, was reveal Himself to me in an incredible fashion. I felt His presence in a way I’d never felt it before. He sent His comfort in words through a radio program. He gave me hope.

That’s what you need, dear one. Hope. Not a magic potion. Hope.

Can you do that? Can you look beyond your circumstances for just a minute and look to God? For that is where hope lies. But you have to do the hard thing of surrendering your struggles, your will, yourself. He will accept nothing less. Because He has already given all.

This season as we focus on the greatest gift the world has ever known, the Babe born in a manger, the Savior, come to give us life, the hope of all mankind, let us not forget those who are hurting. Reach out where you can, and pray, pray, pray!

“For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on His shoulders. And He will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.” (Isaiah 9:6)

Please, do not give up. Look up!

You’re Right, I’m Wrong

: Photo by Gratisography on Pexels.com

Four little words. So hard to say. They catch in our throats, choking and sour-tasting. We’d rather just walk away.

But there are other words niggling at the edge of our thoughts that won’t let us.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control…” (Galatians 5:22-23 ESV 2016)

Grrr….

“If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” (Romans 12:18)

“Finally, brothers, rejoice. Aim for restoration, comfort one another, agree with one another, live in peace, and the God of love and peace will be with you. (2 Corinthians 13:11)

Double Grrrr…

You’re wrong, I’m right.

So much easier! Feels so much better, doesn’t it?

Maybe in the short term.

That warm glow of self-righteousness oozes throughout, saturating our brains with endorphins that bump up the self-esteem, further convincing us of our rightness.

But, as with all temporal things, the satisfaction is short-lived. The damage done to our relationships? Maybe not.

Why is it so hard to be wrong? So hard to admit it?

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.” (Philippians 2:3)

Say what?

That’s a tough one for most of us, even as believers. It is our natural bent to think rather highly of ourselves. Although few of us are so bold as to actually claim we have all the right answers, we don’t like it when we find ourselves in a position that proves we do not. We at least want others to think we do. Pride rears its ugly head, stiffens our necks, and there we are, refusing to back down. Even though we know we are wrong. We can’t even be right graciously.

“…with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love.” (Ephesians 4:2)

“Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” (Colossians 3:12)

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you.” (1 Peter 5:6)

“Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.” (James 4:10)

Nowhere in the Bible will there be found any instruction to exalt ourselves.

“May the Lord cut off all flattering lips, the tongue that makes great boasts, those who say, ‘With our tongue we will prevail, our lips are with us; who is master over us?'” (Psalm 12:4)

“Haughty eyes and a proud heart, the lamp of the wicked, are sin.” (Proverbs 21:4)

“Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him.” (Proverbs 26:12)

Ouch.

But we still do it, don’t we? We really do want it to be all about us.

Thank God for his Holy Spirit that lives in us.

“May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.” (Romans 15:13)

“But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.” (John 14:26)

Dear one, if you struggle with this, be assured you are not alone. We all struggle with this and many other challenges. There is no remedy other than to drench ourselves daily with the cleansing Word of God and surrender ourselves to the Holy Spirit. We must choose to submit ourselves to God before we will be able to submit ourselves to others. Pride and self-righteousness are stubborn adversaries, well-armed by Satan himself.

But God.

Ephesians 6 tells us to put on the whole armor of God for a reason. God’s armor is impenetrable. It reminds us that the battle is not against flesh and blood. It’s not against each other. But this armor needs to be put on every day. We need to surrender every day to the Lord, asking him to guide us as we go about our business, asking him to strike down the sins of pride and self-righteousness.

Maybe we’ll have to say, “You’re right, I’m wrong.” Maybe we won’t win the argument. Maybe we’ll have to admit we don’t always have the right answer. It is much better to be exalted by the Lord than to exalt ourselves.

“Whoever exalts himself will be humbled, and whoever humbles himself will be exalted.” (Matthew 23:12)

In Christ Alone

The world is so crazy right now I hardly know what to write. After all, who am I to offer up deep theological answers to everyone’s questions? I have my own questions.

Thankfully, I know where to go for answers, and I can point you in the right direction as well.

In Christ Alone is a song by Keith Getty and Stuart Townsend, written in 2002, rather recent in the music world to have gained such popularity and had such worldwide impact. Many folks mistakenly believe it to be an old-time hymn as it doesn’t fit with much of today’s contemporary Christian music.

For me, it is an anthem. A song not only of praise but of absolute devotion, deep, aching worship. I can not listen to this song without joyous tears filling my eyes.

I heard it three times yesterday.

The first was on a live-stream church service from Alabama. The second was the recorded service from my own local church, and the third time was a radio broadcast late last night that was probably at least ten years old.

I’m a firm believer that when something reveals itself multiple times, there’s a message I need to take to heart. I’m a firm believer that all I need to know is in the first line. I’m a firm believer that every question is answered throughout the verses. And if I still have questions after I’ve sung the last note, well, then they don’t need to be answered right now. That’s why it’s called faith.

Christ alone is my hope, my light, my strength, my cornerstone, my solid ground. He came for love and sacrifice and atonement.

He defeated death so I would never have to face it down. He freed me from the power of sin, and I am His. Always and forever.

No matter what I’m facing, no loss, no sickness, no financial devastation, nothing will ever separate me from His love. (Romans 8:35, 38-39, paraphrased)

If you’re struggling right now with uncertainty or doubt, especially about God’s sovereignty or love, let me assure you He’s listening. If you are a Christ-follower, He longs to wrap His mighty arms around you and give you peace and comfort. If you are not a follower of Christ, let me assure you that He longs to do the same thing for you. Turn to Him, ask Him to reveal Himself to you, and when He does, surrender yourself completely to Him as Lord and Savior. I promise it will be life-changing.

Please note that I did not say it will be circumstance-changing. It will, however, be perspective-changing. When you begin to see life through the lens of eternity, you can’t help but take on a more realistic view of this earthly existence. This is not our forever home. It’s a temporary residence with some nice amenities at times, some major issues even, but, thankfully, we’re not stuck here. And when we take our final breath, we’re not forever relegated to the dustbin.

In Christ Alone.

Take a few minutes to look up the lyrics, study them closely, and make this your anthem as well.