The Consistency of Being Inconsistent

Today is February 17th...it has been 48 days since the big shiny ball dropped and shouts of "Happy New Year!" were echoed far and wide.

Almost 7 weeks since I wrote on "Consistency" - my one word for this new year.  

Ever notice the minute you draw a line in the sand or make a declaration, things happen to challenge your stance?.

My goal was...is...to be consistent in every area of my life - nothing like making things easy on myself, right?  While total consistency would be wonderful, Bible reading, exercise, and writing were three areas I highlighted.


Week one and two went great!  I was writing daily and published 5 posts.  I ordered an exercise tape and started working out...I was shooting for at least 3 times a week with an ultimate goal of 5 days.  I was making my breakfast at home instead of eating it in front of my computer at work, packing a daily lunch and opening my Bible each day, reading a devotional, doing a little studying, praying over the scriptures.

And then I got derailed.

I went away for a long weekend.  It was my birthday.  Someone at work retired.  Ministry outreaches needed to be planned.  I visited family down South during an 8-day trip.


With all those things going on...all those special reasons to eat...all those changes to my routine...all those things - even good things - that add pressure...I felt my tenuous commitment to consistency start to slip.   I slept in on work days getting my day off to a rushed start.  I ate too much.  I didn't work out.  I had no time to write.  I didn't open my Bible.  I didn't plan my meals.

Finger by finger I lost my grip. 

Some days I'd try to scramble back on track.  I'd get up and do the exercise tape, but with no dinner planned, I grazed all night long.  I started 5 more posts, but they'll most likely never see the light of day.  The immediacy of what I was writing about has passed.  I didn't read my Bible first thing in the morning, so I'd promise myself I'd do it after breakfast, after the movie, after the visit, right before bed.  Prayers were often relegated to "thanks for the food", or "get us there safe". 

I felt a little like the Dutch boy who stuck his finger in a hole in the dike only to have more and more holes open up as water spilled out everywhere.

 Here I was, 3 weeks in and I couldn't keep it together.

I'm so thankful for the promise in Lamentations 3:22 - 23 "The faithful love of the LORD never ends!  His mercies never cease.  Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning." (NLT emphasis mine).  

I am forever grateful that God's love for me is not dependent on my performance. While my only consistency may be in acknowledging my inconsistency, God is the same yesterday, today and forever...His love is faithful and unending not because of who I am or who I aspire to be but because of who HE is. 

I'm not excusing my lack of follow through.  But I am saying my momentary failures don't rule out hope.  Every day is a new chance to try again.  A clean slate.  A fresh start.  A chance to be more Christ-like.  

A chance to be more consistent.

Trust and the Broken Heart

My heart is broken and I can't say why.  Well, I could, but I won't...it's a personal issue.  One I've grappled with for a long time.  It's one of those things we tend to label as a "test of faith" and say God is "building our character." It's not something we hope for, not something we desire, not something we want to work through.

But there it is. 

Of course, if I had truly given it over some time ago, maybe it wouldn't hurt so badly now.  Or maybe it would have hurt the same, just sooner.  No way to tell, really.

The one thing I do know is that there's a trust issue in the middle of this.  Am I willing to let go of this dream, this hope, this desire, altogether, forever, so He can work out His plan for my life?

How much do I honestly trust God?  

I thought I trusted Him a lot.  He's proven Himself faithful over and over again.  But it's always easier to trust when we have nowhere to go.  When there is NO money left in the bank account, but I still need gas to get back and forth to work a few more days, it's a no-brainer.  I pray.  I ask God for provision.  When a friend is hurting because of a health concern, a relationship problem, the loss of a job.  I pray.  God knows the need and will meet it.  When a loved one dies and there is intense grief that feels like it will never subside.  I pray.  God heals broken hearts, mends lives, brings purpose out of pain.  Even when it's a good thing like an outreach but there are so many variables that it is impossible to plan for each one.  I pray.  God works all things together ministering to the hearts, minds and souls of those served, and receiving the glory.

But in all these cases, there is nothing I can do.  It is out of my control.  There are no circumstances to be manipulated.  It is a relatively easy thing to relinquish the doubts, the fears, the needs up to God for Him to sort out and make right when we feel powerless in our own strength.

I trust Him a lot...but do I trust Him completely?

This thing that is breaking my heart.  How often have I tried to work it out on my own?  How many times have I offered it over to God while never removing my hand?  It too is out of my control, but I refuse to see that.  I'm pretty sure given more time, more effort, a different approach, I can make it happen.

My trust is impeded by fear.  If I let go completely, altogether, forever...what if He doesn't give it back?  What will I do then?  What happens to the minutes, hours, days and even years I've invested in this dream...spent cultivating this hope?  What will fill my time now?  Will there be a new dream?  What will that look like? 

I feel sick in the pit of my stomach at the very notion of it.  

I have no answers other than to trust in the God I know is faithful.  Like the acrobat who lets go of the swing bar, hands out, eyes searching for the one who's watching for the release, I have to trust in the only One who can catch me.  Trust in His perfect timing and in His grip.  After all, He's the one who has plans to prosper and not harm me.  The one who withholds no good thing from His children.  The one who has my name etched on the palm of His hand that is outstretched and reaching for me.  These thoughts offer me immense comfort, but still I know the way will be hard.  I've faltered before.  I may again.

And so I pray. 

Matthew West - Rest
Psalm 34:18  "The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit."

Extraordinary Things Done in Ordinary Lives

With this title, I'm totally stealing the theme from the wonderful sermon I heard today.  It was based on 2 Kings 4:1-7.  The passage speaks of a widow with 2 sons. A creditor wants to take the boys into slavery to pay off their deceased father's debt.  The widow cries out to the 'man of God', Elisha, about her plight.   Elisha's response in verse 2 is "How can I help you?  Tell me, what do you have in your house?"  The widow responds that she has nothing but a little oil.

At this point in the sermon, we were shown what 'a little oil' probably looked like...a very small bottle of oil that held perhaps a cup.  Elisha instructed the widow to ask ALL her neighbors for ALL their empty jars. "Don't ask for just a few.  Then go inside and shut the door behind you and your sons.  Pour oil into all the jars, and as each is filled, put it to one side." 

The widow follows his directions exactly until she is informed that all the jars are filled.  She then goes back to Elisha to tell him the task is finished and his response is "Go, sell the oil and pay your debts. You and your sons can live on what is left." The pastor then uncovered what was most likely the size of the jar the woman had been filling. It was easily 10 times the size of her small pot of original oil. She had not only filled one of these large containers, but every single one her neighbors had provided. Obviously it was enough to not only repay the debt, but to provide additional income to live on. Can you imagine her amazement, relief and joy?  I can.

This message was particularly poignant for me. If you follow my blog, you know that a little more than a week ago, I bared my soul about the bottom line of my checkbook. It was a bit of an embarrassment to tell the tale of how I was staring at $20 with 12 days to go til my next pay. But it also appeared to strike a nerve with readers. I'm obviously not alone. Many have been caught short or are hurting due to circumstances beyond their control.

That $20 was my "little bit of oil." Who was my 'creditor'? At a minimum, I needed to pay a $75  utility bill, put gas in my car, and replenish some perishable food over the 12 day period. On November 19th, this is what I wrote..."I'm not sure what these next two weeks hold. Not sure where the funds will come from to get me through although He's already provided some gas money via my friend. 

But, through the events of yesterday, I am reminded of what God said in Matthew 6:27 - 33." The passage I quoted talks about how worry can't add one hour to our lives. It tells us that God knows our needs and that He's faithful to supply them.  And once again He was. In the past few days, I received some gas money from one source, and money to pay the utility bill from another. Money to buy bread and milk came from yet another person, and gift cards for meals from still another. Some of the money was a loan, some a gift, but none of it came to me because I requested help directly from those who provided it - it was given because I sought God in prayer and He moved hearts to offer assistance. But God wasn't satisfied with just meeting the immediate need. He knows I have other needs that have been put on hold. Things that must be attended to, but were not as pressing as those previously listed. On both Wednesday and Saturday I received a check... they totaled $600! If you had told me I'd be receiving money but would have to guess where it was coming from, I would never in a million years have given you the correct answer. That's because I think in finite terms and God's ways are infinite. Because I think logically and God's ways sometimes make no human sense...like taking a small pot of oil and filling multiple large jars. Who does that?

The main points we were given to take away from the story of the widow and the oil were this.  1)  Ask  - when you have a need cry out to God.  The widow did...I did...and we were heard.  2) Listen - Once you have asked God to provide, be attentive to what He's telling you to do.  For the widow, that meant giving over the little she had so it could be multiplied into much...for me that meant confessing my inability to provide for myself while stating publicly that I had no plan other than the belief that God cared about me and my needs...which leads to 3)  Trust - believe that God is faithful to make good on His promises to meet our needs.

In that previous post I also shared that my son accused me of seeing God in too much - of giving Him too much credit for things that happen in my life.  Once again I say 'guilty' - not in the 'too much' but in seeing God in everything, trusting Him for everything, and believing He can do anything.  He does it over and over and over again.  He proves Himself trustworthy, faithful, and loving.  How can I do anything less than give Him all the glory?  Once again, He has truly done something extraordinary  in this very ordinary life.