We fill our days and our lives with so much activity that the only way to keep up with it all is to rush. And I’m discovering that the source of much of the stress in my life is this constant need to keep up. But what if I’m chasing the wrong desire?
Do I really want my life to look more like others’? Or to look more like God’s best for me?
God’s best for me means engaging with life and the people in it. God’s best for me means noticing divine invitations and feeling the freedom to say yes—a Best Yes to the Lord’s assignments.
If I really want an unrushed life, I must underwhelm my schedule so God has room to overwhelm my soul.
Today, we must stand moment by moment in the reality of our identity before we resume our activity. Grasp this truth and rub it in deep: “You are my daughter, whom I love; with whom I am well pleased.”
Well pleased because of who you are, not because of what you do. Well pleased because of an unfathomable, unconditional love that’s not earned, but simply given.
Dear Lord, unrush me as I set my schedule today. I want to step out of the rush so I can embrace Your best for me. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
22
ANALYSIS PARALYSIS
The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.
—ROMANS 8:26–28
Maybe you have been there. A decision needs to be made. You ponder and pray. You research and get other people’s opinions. You analyze the hows and what-ifs. You desperately want to know which is the one right decision to make. The perfect move. The will of God.
Not being able to make a decision is a feverish symptom but not the real sickness. Fear of failure is the real cause of our analysis paralysis.
We should fear stepping out of God’s will. But if you desire to please God with the decision you make and afterward it proves to be a mistake, it’s an error not an end.
It took me quite awhile to get this. I remember being a young girl wondering how in the world I’d make all the right choices in life. What if I picked the wrong college? And then picked the wrong town to move to after college? And then picked the wrong job that put me in the wrong circle of friends? And then and then and . . . a thousand more mistakes that all spun off picking the wrong college. I would analyze every option until I didn’t want to make any decision for fear of making the wrong one.
God’s promises are not dependent on my ability to always choose well, but rather on His ability to use well.
I have a friend who had this same analysis paralysis until a wise mentor said something that gave her freedom. He said so many people stress over knowing God’s will and what the right choice is. But sometimes God gives us two or more choices that would all please Him and be in His will. We get to choose.
My friend said understanding that has given her more confidence to make decisions, In fact, it’s strengthened her relationship with God as she exercises stepping out in faith, trusting God to give her the discernment she needs to choose wisely.
The fear of making a wrong decision shouldn’t strip the faith right out of our faith. The only way our faith will ever strengthen is for us to use it. We need to apply thought and prayer to our decisions and then trust God for the outcome. We need to set our sights on growing in faith, not shrinking back for fear of failure.
If I’m trusting myself, I will stare at all the possible ways I could fail. If I’m trusting God, I will stare at all the possible ways He’ll use this whether I fail or succeed. When I stare at failure, I’ll fear it. I’ll convince myself it’s the worst thing that could happen. And I’ll stay stuck. But when I stare at all the possible ways God can use this whether I succeed or fail, I’ll face my decision. I’ll convince myself that it’s better to step out and find out than to stay stuck.
Here’s the bottom line. Good decisions will often have elements of not so good. And not-so-good decisions have elements of good. Either way, if I’m hoping to be able to know the perfect choice and then move forward with absolute certainty, I’ll probably not move forward.
Here’s where the certainty is: My imperfections will never override God’s promises. God’s promises are not dependent on my ability to always choose well, but rather on His ability to use well.
God will use the good and not-so-good parts of the decisions we make. A very popular verse reminds us of this. Romans 8:28 says, “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”
Don’t miss this crucial part: “for the good of those who love him.” We must have at the core of our hearts a love for God and a surrender to God if we want to be guided by God.
Also don’t miss the context from which this verse is pulled. Verse 28 starts with the word and, which tells me that it’s tied to the verses that precede it. Verses 26–27 remind us that when we are feeling uncertain or weak, the Holy Spirit will lift up prayers for us in accordance to God’s will. Let’s read the whole paragraph as it goes together.
“The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God. And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose” (vv. 26–28).
If your heart and your mind are aligned in the direction of God, you don’t have to agonize to the point of paralysis over the decisions before you. We will steer where we stare. So stare mightily at God and His plan. And if you don’t know His plan, stare mightily at living out His Word in your life, and His plan will unfold day by day. Decision by decision.
God, thank You for being sovereign over my life. Thank You for Your Word to guide me. I ask the Holy Spirit to intercede on my behalf, and I commit my decisions to You. Thank You, Father. In Jesus’ Name, Amen
23
FIVE QUESTIONS TO ASK WHEN MAKING A DECISION
“Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it—lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish’?”
—LUKE 14:28–30 NKJV
I wasn’t in the mood to take on the stress of making another decision. I was just so tired. So spent. Not in the mood to deal with one more thing.
A family friend in her early twenties was looking to move out of her apartment and into a less expensive living situation. We adore this young lady. She’s spent a lot of time with our family. She’s lovely and no trouble at all.
However, when she asked to move in with us, I felt a deep sense of caution. I’d been helping one of my kids through a difficult situation that required a lot of my time and emotional energy.
But maybe I could do this, too, I thought. My heart was certainly saying yes. But my heart and my reality don’t always line up.
So, I knew I needed to take myself through a process of evaluating this decision. And my evaluation would have to include my capacity.
It’s good to use wisdom, knowledge, and an understanding of your resource capacity to assess your decisions.
In fact, Luke 14:28–30 encourages it: “Which of you, intending to build a tower, does not sit down first and count the cost, whether he has enough to finish it—lest, after he has laid the foundation, and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish’?”
I ran this situation through the filter of five questions:
1. Do I
have the resources to handle this request along with my current responsibilities?
2. Could this fit physically?
3. Could this fit financially?
4. Could this fit spiritually?
5. Could this fit emotionally?
I dug through my purse to retrieve the only paper I could find—a random receipt. I scrawled out a list of things to consider when making this decision.
Did saying yes to this make sense in each of these areas?
• Physically? We had a spare bedroom.
• Financially? Her small rent payment would cover any additional expenses.
• Spiritually? We are Christians, and we want to love other people. This seemed to fall right in line with our core values.
But there was one more aspect to be considered. Could I handle this emotionally? Did I really have the white space to do this and keep an attitude of love?
This is where I felt the most caution. Remember how I was feeling at the time? So tired. So spent.
I’ve learned to pay attention to my emotional capacity and be honest with myself when I’m stretched too thin. When I allow myself to get overloaded emotionally, the worst version of me emerges. And that’s not good for anyone.
As I continued to count the cost and assess my available resources, I felt I should say no. But I also felt I was expected to say yes. Do I go with what I’m expected to do? Or what I feel I should do?
It’s good to use wisdom, knowledge, and an understanding of your resource capacity to assess your decisions.
Whenever there is a conflict between what we feel we’re expected to do and what we feel we should do, it’s time to step back from the decision and seek clarity from the only source free from entanglements: God.
Praying for wisdom and considering these five questions gave me a peace that God would be her provider. Therefore, my saying yes when I knew I should say no would prevent her from experiencing His best provision.
Amazingly, when I called her to explain why this wouldn’t work, she was giddy with excitement over an apartment she’d found that was right in line with her budget.
God provided. He provided my friend with a great living situation. He provided me with another assurance that not every opportunity was meant to be my assignment.
Dear Lord, thank You for providing wisdom whenever we ask for it. Please guide me in the decisions I need to make today. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
24
GOD, I’M WORN OUT
When I am overwhelmed,
you alone know the way I should turn.
—PSALM 142:3 NLT
Have you ever had one of those late-night come-to-Jesus moments where the weight of regret lays heavy across your chest?
For me, it usually happens because in the hectic pace of the day, I blew up at a loved one, I brushed past a moment of connection with someone God put in my path, or I rushed through all the moments without stopping to enjoy them.
I’ve discovered a great source of stress, distraction, and exhaustion in my life. I say yes to too many things. I take on too many good things, which causes me to miss my best things. It’s so hard to say no and let go of opportunities that come my way. But if I don’t learn the gift of release, I’ll wrestle with a lack of peace.
I saw this visibly a few years ago when I traveled to visit a friend. As soon as she picked me up from the airport and we started driving, I saw the fallout from a massive twenty-inch snow in the middle of fall. But it wasn’t the amount of snow still on the ground that grabbed my attention.
It was the broken trees. The branches were piled everywhere, all still clinging to the leaves that hadn’t dropped yet. And because the leaves hadn’t dropped, the trees broke.
That’s what happens when a snow comes early. The trees weren’t designed to face snow before releasing their leaves. They weren’t made to carry more than they should. And neither are we.
I know the weight of carrying more than I should. And usually it’s because I’ve refused to release something before taking on something else.
We see how refusing to release gets people in trouble all throughout Scripture.
Eve refused to release the forbidden fruit. And because she became hyperfocused on that one thing, she missed out on the best things in paradise.
Refusing to release often means refusing to have peace.
Esau refused to release his urgent need for some stew. And because he became hyperfocused on eating that soup, he missed out on his birthright.
Moses refused to release his fear that just speaking to the rock as God commanded wouldn’t actually bring forth water. And because he struck the rock twice, he missed out on entering the promised land.
Each of these people paid a high price for their refusals to release—to let go of their ways so they could walk in the amazing way of God.
It wasn’t God’s desire for any of these people to suffer the consequences they did. Each of us has a free will, which means we have the freedom to make choices.
God tells us the right way to go, but we have to make the choice to do so. Choices and consequences come in package deals. When we make a choice, we ignite the consequences that can come along with it.
It was true for Eve, Esau, and Moses. And it’s true for you and me. Refusing to release often means refusing to have peace. I trade my peace for a weight of regret.
Release is a gift to a woman weighed down, grasping her leaves in the midst of a snowstorm, so desperate for help. She can feel the twinges and hear the creaking sounds of a splitting break about to happen.
She knows she can’t take much more. She remembers Psalm 142:3, “When I am overwhelmed, you alone know the way I should turn.” Tears well up in her upturned, pleading eyes. God, help me. It’s all too much. I’m tired and frustrated and so very worn out.
The wind whips past her, trailing a whispered, “R-e-l-e-a-s-e.” She must listen or she will break. Her tree needs to be stripped and prepared for winter. But she can’t embrace winter until she lets go of fall. Like a tree, a woman can’t carry the weight of two seasons simultaneously. In the violent struggle of trying, she’ll miss every bit of joy each season promises to bring.
Release brings with it the gift of peace. There are some opportunities I need to decline today. There are some things I need to say no to in this current season. There are good things I need to let go of so I can make room for the best things. Then and only then can my beautiful, bare winter branch receive its snow. When we release in peace, we signal we’re now ready to receive what’s meant for this season, right now.
So let’s release. With release comes more peace. I see that now. I believe that now. And soon, I pray, you will too.
Dear Lord, only You can help me with this release. My heart seeks to obey You. In Jesus’ Name, Amen.
25
IN THE FLOW
His divine power has given us everything we need for a godly life through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.
—2 PETER 1:3
When my kids were growing up, my family and I spent a week each summer at a camp tucked in the Adirondack Mountains. It was an amazing get-away. Great chapel preaching every morning, no TV, beautiful lake, campfires, fishing, putt-putt golf, shuffleboard, and more game playing than you can imagine.
Nature erupts with untarnished beauty and begs to be explored. So, one year, when my exercise-loving friends we vacation with suggested we join them for a moderate family hike, we agreed.
Well, their definition of the word moderate and mine didn’t come from the same dictionary. Actually, not from the same planet if I’m being completely honest. Honey, honey, honey . . . this was no moderate hike.
I pictured a path with a gentle, winding, upward slope.
What we actually hiked was a full-on upward scaling of rocks and roots.
Not kidding.
In an altitude where the air seemed so thin the inside of my lungs felt like they were sticking together and refusing my
chest full breaths. Lovely.
Up, up, up we went. And when another group passed us on their way down and cheerfully quipped, “You’re almost halfway there,” I wanted to quit. Halfway? How could we only be halfway!?!
I pushed. I pulled. I strained. I huffed and puffed. And I might have even spent a few minutes pouting.
But eventually, we reached the top. I bent over holding my sides wondering how a girl who runs almost every day of her life could be so stinkin’ out of shape! Going up against the pull of gravity was hard. Really, really hard.
But coming down was a completely different experience. We navigated the same rocks and roots without feeling nearly as stressed. I enjoyed the journey. I noticed more of the beautiful surroundings and had enough breath to talk to those with me all the way down.
And about halfway down the trail, it occurred to me how similar this hike was to the Christian walk.
Starting at the top, working with the pull of gravity was so much easier than starting at the bottom and working against it.
Though we navigated the exact same path both directions, going in the flow of gravity made the journey so much better.
Seeking to obey God in the midst of whatever circumstance I’m facing will position me to work in the flow of God’s power.
Just like when I face an issue in life, operating in the flow of God’s power is so much better than working against the flow of God’s power.
In other words, seeking to obey God in the midst of whatever circumstance I’m facing will position me to work in the flow of God’s power. I’ll still have to navigate the realities of my situation, but I won’t be doing it with my strength.
My job is to be obedient to God. Apply His Word. Walk according to His ways—not the world’s suggestions. Participate in His divine nature rather than wallow in my own bad attitude and insecurities.
Then I won’t have to huff and puff and pout while trying to figure everything out. I stay in the flow. God, in His way and timing, works it all out.
Embraced Page 6
