The next day I gathered myself up just enough to drag myself into work. After work, several of the guys were heading to the bar down the street. I needed some fun, I reasoned, so off I went.
A couple of hours later we were playing pool and drinking. One of the guys offered to make me a late dinner back at his place. I honestly wanted to go. I was lonely. I was miserable. I was hungry. But I pictured my roommate holding up that ad for church and something wrestled my heart into declining his offer.
Had I gone on that date with the guy from the bar, it would have set my vulnerable heart on a vulnerable path. I don’t want to presume I know where it would have taken me. But I do know it wouldn’t have taken me closer to the truth I needed.
That next night after work, I pulled the ad out and scanned it. The next Sunday I went to that church.
Now, I’m not saying the act of going to church fixes everything. Just as simply looking at a restaurant menu won’t give you nourishment. We’ve got to engage with what’s offered if it’s going to do us any good. But putting my heart in a place to receive truth certainly got me going in a completely different direction. This was a good place with good directions and solid friends I still have to this day.
Our decisions aren’t just isolated choices. Our decisions point our lives in the directions we’re about to head.
I didn’t know how to chase down a decision at that point. But had I known, I would have seen how the bar scene would lead me to one place, and the church scene to the place I really needed to go.
Our decisions aren’t just isolated choices. Our decisions point our lives in the directions we’re about to head. Show me a decision and I’ll show you a direction. We’ve got to get good at chasing down our decisions. See where they will take us. And make sure that’s really where we want to go.
What’s a decision you are in the midst of making? Chase it down. If you do this, where will it most likely lead? And then what? And then? Keep going until you walk it all the way out.
I know this may sound like a lot of work just to make a decision, but Proverbs 27:12 reminds us why it is so important to make sure we know the direction our lives are headed: “The prudent see danger and take refuge, but the simple keep going and pay the penalty.”
This isn’t meant to make you afraid to make the decision. It’s to help you more clearly discern the package deal that comes with the decisions we make. And clarity should dispel the fear. I’d much prefer to know what I’m getting into than have it barreling toward me unaware.
Dear Lord, please give me insight to chase down the decision I’m facing. I want to understand where it might take me—and make a decision that will draw me closer to You. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
18
READ THIS BEFORE MAKING THAT DECISION
“He who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water.”
—ISAIAH 49:10
Do you need to make a decision about something that seems so exciting, but you can’t seem to shake the hesitation in your heart? Let’s take a closer look at the idea of chasing down our decisions that we discussed yesterday.
We have a family friend named Wes who has been fascinated with pilots and planes since he was a little boy. For years, he dreamed of the life he’s now living as a flight-school instructor.
It’s thrilling. But recently it’s all become a bit more complicated. The owner of the flight school decided to offer Wes the opportunity to buy him out. It’s an amazing opportunity. But a scary one. One that created a bit of hesitation for Wes.
Our family has spent lots of time processing this decision with Wes. We’ve helped him with assessing the costs of this endeavor: the cost to him personally, the cost to his young wife, and the cost of everyday pressures people who own their own businesses feel.
As we were talking one day, I shared with him a picture I keep in my mind when making decisions.
Imagine this opportunity as an amazingly attractive but fast-moving river. There is so much that looks extremely appealing about this river, that you’re going to be tempted to jump right in. But once in the river, you have diminished your ability to make decisions.
That river is moving so fast that it will take you where it is going. And if you haven’t carefully determined in advance whether you want to go all the places the river flows, you’ll be in trouble.
College students declaring their majors should trace the places that career will take them. If you think you want to major in chemistry but hate working in a lab or hospital, trace that river’s path before jumping in.
Moms who are thinking about a new business opportunity should trace out all the expenses of getting started, including up-front costs, childcare, and inventory. If a mom’s desire is to stay at home with the kids but this business will require her to be gone every night of the week, trace that river’s path before jumping in.
Sometimes the greater act of faith is to let God lead us, talk to us, and instruct us beside the water.
Before jumping into the river, you have the ability to walk up and down the banks of the river with ease.
You have the ability to stick your toes in and consider what this water will be like.
You can talk to other wise people who know things about this river. And sit quietly listening for God’s voice, reading His Word, and looking for confirmation on what to do next.
But once you jump in, the current has a way of demanding your full attention. It’s not that you can’t make adjustments once you’re in the river; it’s just a lot harder to go a different direction once you’re in it.
Several verses describing God’s leading, directing, and guiding beside the water have been great comfort to me:
• “He who has compassion on them will guide them and lead them beside springs of water” (Isaiah 49:10, emphasis mine).
• “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want. He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of righteousness for His name’s sake” (Psalm 23:1–3 NKJV, emphasis mine).
• “With weeping they shall come, and with pleas for mercy I will lead them back, I will make them walk by brooks of water, in a straight path in which they shall not stumble, for I am a father to Israel” (Jeremiah 31:9, ESV, emphasis mine).
These verses are comforting to me because a lot is discussed in the Christian world about stepping out in faith—which I believe in wholeheartedly.
I believe God clearly instructs some to jump right in.
But that doesn’t mean God calls everyone to jump right in. Sometimes the greater act of faith is to let God lead us, talk to us, and instruct us beside the water.
Dear Lord, I want to thoroughly think about this river before jumping in. Reveal anything I might not be seeing right now. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
19
PARALYZING FEAR
Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.
—1 PETER 5:7
The monkey bars were always the place on the playground I found most thrilling and most terrifying all at once. I watched the other kids laughing as they mindlessly romped up the ladder rungs to get to the first bar. Without a care, they let their bodies swing across from one bar to the next. It looked so effortless, and they seemed fearless and natural.
I wanted to join them. I wanted to play on the monkey bars more than any other piece of equipment on the whole playground.
But I was afraid.
I’d tried it once but it hadn’t worked out so well. I’d held up the line. The longer the other monkey-bar climbers had to wait for me just hanging on the first bar, the more I could hear sighs. Cheeks full of air were being blown out behind me.
One boy got so tired of waiting he got his friend to hoist him up to the second bar and off he went. Others thought that was a great solution, so they followed suit. Suddenly not only was I afraid, I was embarrassed too.
All I had to do was release one hand from the
first bar and thrust it forward to grab the next bar right in front of me. But I couldn’t make my muscles move. No matter how hard I tried to will my hand to move, my thoughts paralyzed me. All I could think of were the bad things that could happen the minute my hand let go. So, there I stayed—for almost an entire recess.
A teacher finally saw what was happening and walked over to me. She placed her hands on my waist and helped me down. I know she thought she was helping me. But it felt like she was just agreeing with what I feared most: “You can’t do this.”
Falling would have been better. I could have gotten up from a physical fall. But being told that failure must be avoided at all costs kept me from ever getting back up on those monkey bars again. I would sit day after day staring from the swing across the playground. Watching other people do what I wanted to do.
Fear of all kinds can do this to us. We grab hold of it and don’t let go. We want to overcome it, but we find ourselves hanging on that first bar, paralyzed from moving forward. Fear strangles the momentum that propelled us to grab the bar in the first place. There we stay, until someone hoists us down. And they lower us in more ways than one.
All those years ago on the playground, it would have been better if that teacher had just said, “Lysa, staying stuck in your fear is way worse than any other choice you could make right now. If you let go of that bar and happen to catch the next one, you’ll move forward and prove to yourself that you can do this. Or, if you let go of that bar and fall, you’ll see that the ground isn’t so far away. It won’t feel great to fall, but it won’t be worse than all the stress and exhaustion you’re experiencing just hanging there on the first bar.”
Fear makes the gap between where I am and trusting God seem an impossible chasm.
Years later my youngest daughter Brooke was playing on the same kind of monkey bars with a friend and fell. When I took her to the doctor, he confirmed what the swelling in her arm had already told us. It was broken. But here’s the amazing thing: Brooke’s arm healed and she kept climbing the monkey bars.
I still won’t attempt them.
I want to shift from trusting myself to trusting God, but how? Fear makes the gap between where I am and trusting God seem an impossible chasm.
But God doesn’t want us to stay paralyzed in fear. And He has equipped us with comfort and reassurance. Over and over throughout the Bible, He tells us not to fear. The next time you find yourself clinging to your fear in a state of paralysis, remind yourself:
The Lord my God will be with me wherever I go (from Joshua 1:9).
God has redeemed me and summoned me by name. I am His (from Isaiah 43:1).
Nothing can ever separate me from the love of God (from Romans 8:38–39).
I can hand Him all my anxiety because He cares for me (from 1 Peter 5:7).
God gave us a spirit not of fear but of power and love and self-control (from 2 Timothy 1:7 ESV).
With the foundation of God’s Word before us and beneath us, sweet sister, we can let go.
Dear heavenly Father, thank You for reminding me over and over not to fear. Lord, I hand over all my fears to You, and I will dwell on Your Word and Your strength. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
20
THE MOST NONFRANTIC WOMAN I’VE EVER MET
A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.
—PROVERBS 22:1
She was knocking at my front door trying to balance her paper coffee cup, her purse, her cell phone, and a stack of papers. She was also trying to fix something on her shoe. She hopped a step or two when I answered the door.
I smiled. Her imperfect posture delighted my mind that had been feeling a little off-kilter all morning. She smiled back and hopped one more time.
Finally, whatever was bugging her with her shoe seemed fixed. She stood up and smiled with an apologetic smile that made me adore her before we’d ever had our first conversation.
And with her first step over the threshold, it was as if the shoe issue never happened. She was noticeably focused on the project ahead of her.
She spent all day with my family and me. She was a reporter doing a story on our sons adopted from Africa. Even though she never alluded to another title she had, we knew.
She was the daughter of a former president of the United States. As in . . . she and her sister called the White House their home at one time. Her mom had been the first lady, which made her part of the first family.
But being the daughter of a president wasn’t her role that day. She was a reporter. She was at our house to do a story. She stayed present in that role alone.
The decisions we make, make the life we live.
Her questions were honest and unassuming. Her demeanor kind. Her laugh delightfully loud. Her paperwork messy. But her focus was clear.
She was there to uncover a story.
So she stayed focused on the task at hand. She wasn’t encumbered with a thousand other things pulling at her. She didn’t try to multitask too much. She wasn’t distracted by her cell phone. She wasn’t running late or from one thing to the next.
She said no to everything else pulling at her. So she could say yes to the story. She gave it her Best Yes.
This woman who demonstrated a Best Yes that day left a lasting impression on my family for sure.
Later at dinner, the kids were asked to go around the table and say one word to describe the reporter.
“Nice.”
“Humble.”
“Classy.”
“Elegant.”
“Humble.”
Then there may or may not have been a less than delightful exchange from an older sibling to the youngest child, “You can’t say humble. I just said humble. You always want to copy what I have to say!”
I love family bonding.
But . . . I really did love the collective experience of meeting this nonfrantic woman. And the words my kids used to describe her.
The kids were then asked to explain what she did and how she carried herself that led us to use such great words to describe her.
If you want people to use such great words to describe you, think about the decisions you are making. How are they leading people to describe you? This question makes me think of Proverbs 22:1 which says, “A good name is more desirable than great riches; to be esteemed is better than silver or gold.” I often encourage my kids with this truth when reminding them of the weight their decisions carry.
Yes, great descriptions are birthed from great decisions.
And better decisions help make better lives for those of us caught in craziness. Snagged. Worn out. Worn down. Ragged.
The decisions we make, make the life we live. So if we want to live better, we’ve got to decide better. Yes. No. The two most powerful words in the English language.
They can run us if we don’t intentionally run them. Guard them. Guide them. Use yes and no to work for us. Can you imagine how great life would be if you didn’t dread saying yes and felt completely empowered to say no?
Then and only then will our best selves emerge. And maybe you and I can start to be a little less frantic.
Dear Lord, I want to be described as a woman who says yes to You and to the assignments You have called me to. Help me to discern what those are today. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
21
THE TWO MOST POWERFUL WORDS
A voice from heaven said, “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”
—MATTHEW 3:17
Not too long ago, I stood at the sink trying to ease the stabbing feeling of stress. I had so much pulling at me.
I found myself rushing my loved ones in conversation. Rushing my kids out the door. Rushing to the next thing and then the next. Rushing to make dinner and then rushing my people through dinner.
I had set my life to the rhythm of rush.
Exhaustion gnawed deep places in my heart, demanding me to slow down. But how? I’ve made my decisions and now my decision
s have made me. Me—this shell of a woman caught in the rush of endless demands.
Have you ever felt this same way? I suspect most of us have.
Like I said in yesterday’s devotion, I’m starting to realize the two most powerful words are yes and no. How I use them determines how I set my schedule.
How I set my schedule determines how I live my life.
How I live my life determines how I spend my soul.
When I think about my decisions in light of spending my soul, it gives gravity to choosing more wisely. Each and every thing I say yes to sets the pace of my life.
After all, when a woman lives with the stress of an overwhelmed schedule, she’ll ache with the sadness of an underwhelmed soul. An overwhelmed schedule leads to an underwhelmed soul—a soul with a full calendar but no time to really engage in life.
If you’ve found yourself caught in a stressful pace recently, I understand. I think so much of why my schedule gets overloaded is because I’m afraid of missing out or not measuring up.
One quick look at social media, and it feels like everyone else is able to live at a breakneck pace with a smile. Their kids are accomplishing more than my kids. Their business pursuits seem more important than mine do. Their home is cleaner. And they even have time to invite dinner guests over to eat food from their garden. Huh?
It’s interesting to me the timing of God’s words to Jesus in Matthew 3:17: “This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.”
At that point, Jesus hadn’t yet performed miracles, led the masses, or gone to the cross. Yet, God was pleased with Jesus before all of those accomplishments.
His Father was establishing Jesus’ identity before He started His activities. Jesus heard God, believed God, and remained unrushed. In Christ, God has given us a new identity (Romans 6:4). But, unlike Christ, we forget.
When a woman lives with the stress of an overwhelmed schedule, she’ll ache with the sadness of an underwhelmed soul.
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