Facets of Faith

Conversations about life, faith, and friendship.

Really Believing, Really Trusting

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Want to know why I love writing with Tracy and Jen here at Facets of Faith? These questions we take time to answer each month are typically birthed from a discussion we had as friends, sitting around a table at Panera as we ate dinner and encouraged each other. It’s with these two ladies I’m able to explore the struggles and triumphs of faith in real life. Be sure to click on their names to read their posts you might have missed. Or better yet . . . sign up to receive each week’s post straight in your inbox!

I’m sitting here mulling over this month’s question —do I believe in God’s promises, really? I really want to offer a pithy response, a thought that drips with wit and insight. You know, a quotable quote.

Instead, all I have to humbly offer is this life I’ve lived so far. These 46 years filled with such heartache and loss that it could be described as a tragedy. You know, that kind of life that some peer into and compare to their own, only to realize maybe their struggles aren’t quite so bad after all.

Yeah, I’m that one. At least my life isn’t like . . . mine. (Truly, this has been said to me.)

The thought of my suffering and homelessness is bitter beyond words. I will never forget this awful time, as I grieve over my loss.” Lamentations 3:19-20, NLT

And yet . . . as I look back over four decades of living, I see a different story. I see one unfolding and steeped in hope. I see a thread that links everything together —the sorrow, the grief, the despair, and hope. Perhaps in my younger years it was thin and hard to see, but that thread has grown thicker and more resilient with each passing year.

Yet I still dare to hope when I remember this: The faithful love of the Lord  never end! His mercies never cease.” Lamentations 3:21-22, NLT

I’m learning to see my life as a miracle. While I may not have experienced the kind of miracle as Jairus did when Jesus raised his daughter from the dead (Matthew 5:21-24, 35-43), or the healing of the woman who had been bleeding for over a decade (Matthew 5:25-34), or gained back my sight or my ability to walk . . . I’m a miracle all the same.

That thread? The miracle?

Faith: the gift of believing in something, in Someone, bigger. Bigger that my fears, bigger than my worries, bigger than life.

Overhearing what they said, Jesus told him, “Don’t be afraid; just believe.” Matthew 5:36, NIV

I’ve peered into the blackest of nights and touched the searing hot pain of loss, and survived. I’ve learned to breath in the ashes of despair and traverse my way through the valley of death. I was dead, and now I’m alive. I was lost, and now I’m found.

So as I think about God’s promises and whether or not I believe them, my answer is of course I do! Not perfectly and without worry at times, but I know Jesus loves me and has a big, big house with lots and lots of room. I know He’s called me to go and make disciples and sent His Spirit to lead and guide me. After all, the Bible tells me so and, Scripture, the inspired Word of God, does not lie.

. . . in the hope of eternal life, which God, who does not lie, promised before the beginning of time.” Titus 1:2, NIV

I believe in God’s promises because I believe in God. I believe He is real and not a distant grandfatherly-type hovering somewhere above us watching as we race about. I believe God is intimately involved with every detail of my life —the good, the bad, and the ugly, and He is squeezing good out of every.single.drop.

But what does happen when my circumstances appear contrary to His promises? How do I know what is true when pain or fear stares me straight in the eye? How do I believe in His promises when my heart aches? I always return to His character. What do I know to be true about Him?

He doesn’t lie.

He has a plan (Jeremiah 29:11).

He is sovereign and knows exactly what He is doing (Isaiah 55:9).

And He loves. He loves me. He loves you. Scripture says, in fact, that He is love; everything He does is motivated by His love. If I believe that truth about God’s character, then I can believe in every promise —the ones I know and those I don’t. The ones I see, and those I don’t. The ones I experience, and those yet to happen.

Whoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.” 1 John 4:8, NIV

Do I believe in God’s promises? I declare a resounding yes! because I see the work He has done in me and all around me. I’ve experienced the healing touch of His Son, Jesus. I’ve tasted the goodness of His Word as it’s come alive through my life. I’ve felt the overwhelming depth of God’s love for me through the power of the Spirit and the presence of those who love Him, too. I hear whispers of hope through the stories of those who have gone before but walked in faith with their eyes firmly fixed on Him. People like Abraham and Joseph, Mary and Esther, Job and Paul . . . and me.

I will tell everyone about your righteousness. All day long I will proclaim your saving power, though I am not skilled with words.” Psalm 71:15, NLT

What about you? Do you believe in God’s promises? Really? Jump over to our Facebook page and share your thoughts. We’d love to hear from you!

A Rescue, Grace, and Coming Back to Truth

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What am I going back to? I’ve been sitting with this question for quite some time. I read Tracy’s encouraging post about returning to her life after a season of challenge, embracing new and old things she enjoys and feels called to do. You can read it here. Then I read Jen’s thought-provoking post about returning to her past and using 5 questions to embrace deeper healing. Check hers out here.

As for me, nothing much was making sense until I realized the answer was staring me straight in the eye.

Literally. Two precious dark-brown puddles of love watching me type.

World – meet Cynthia or, as we call her, Scout.

I’m a pet owner again, for the first time in over six years, and it’s so.much.fun.

Scout is the most loving, patient, laidback dog I’ve ever met, let alone owned. She rarely barks, loves belly rubs,  and is usually found within a couple of feet of me, often snuggling close to my feet.

Scout is also a rescue dog. Several weeks ago a friend posted her picture in search of a foster family to take her in. My husband and I had been talking about adopting a dog, but we weren’t sure how the kids would do with a dog, or how a dog would handle them. When I saw my friend’s post, I realized fostering might be a great way to test the waters.

Yeah, I know. You see where this is going, don’t you?

After I made arrangements to pick Scout up one morning, I realized I was nervous. It had been a long time since I owned a dog, and I was hesitant to let one into my heart again.

My first dog was a Dachshund named Otto. I was a baby and don’t remember him at all, only stories of him chasing me which quickly prompted my parents to find him another home. Twenty-six years passed until Abby, a golden retriever, strolled into my life through my first marriage. She was older, sweet, and fairly laid back. Abby died peacefully under a tree at friend’s house while we were on vacation a few years later.

Then came Lady, a beautiful Sheltie who quickly adopted my youngest daughter, Emma, as her buddy. Wherever Emma was, Lady was nearby. It made sense then, in a way, that Lady died in the same fire that took Emma’s life. (You can read more about that here)

About a year after our life turned inside out, I learned of a rescue, Beauty. She could’ve been Lady’s older sister. We cared for her through her final years of life until she died a little over six years ago.

Heart-wrenching, I know. To become attached to a pet only to have it die, not once but three times. What in the world was my husband thinking when he mentioned getting a dog?

Sometimes I wonder.

Didn’t he know how difficult it was going to be to enjoy another pet? Didn’t he know the pain it could cause? The worry? The work? The poop-clean up?

But when I saw her picture on my friend’s page, asking for a foster family, something stirred in me and before I knew it, I responded we’re interested!

A rescue.

I know what it means to be rescued. I know the depths of loneliness and fear. I know the pain of regret and disappointment. I know the darkness of grief and loss. I know what it’s like to be cast aside, to be lost and desperately in need of compassion and care, to be wanted, just as I am.

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed. Psalm 34:18, NLT

But I also know what it’s like to meet the One who loves me so much that He sent His Son to earth to make a way back to Him (Ephesians 2:5). The One who lavishes His love over me (Deuteronomy 7:9, NLT). The One who calls me by name (John 10:3).

I know these truths, but sometimes I forget. I forget the depth of God’s love for me.

And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. Ephesians 3:18, NLT

I forget that He delights in me (2 Samuel 22:20) as I begin to work and strive, hoping to earn His affection as if I’m reminding Him why I’m worth loving. I glance at my schedule and see good work after good work until exhaustion sets in. And when exhaustion takes hold, the whispers of the enemy growl loud.

You’re worthless.

Why would anyone want to hear what you have to say?

If they really knew you and what you’ve done, what you’ve thought . . . they’d all walk away.

Accusation tumbles over accusation as my worth falters under the weight of lies. Finally, when the pressure feels too great to carry, I turn with head low and eyes down, hopeful that God will take me back. That He’ll allow me to return to the safety of His wings.

His voice begins to speak louder than the lies.

I love you. (1 Thessalonians 1:4)

You are mine. (Isaiah 43:1)

There is nothing that will ever change that. There is nothing that can every snatch you away. (John 10:28)

I delight in you simply because you’re my daughter.

For the Lord your God is living among you. He is a mighty savior. He will take delight in you with gladness. With his love, he will calm all your fears. He will rejoice over you with joyful songs.” Zephaniah 3:17, NLT

Yes, I definitely know what it’s like to be rescued, to be restored and welcomed into God’s family not as a guest or a foster, but as a full-fledged daughter of the King. And as His daughter, I’m learning that He delights in me, longs to give me good things, and not only redeems the places in my heart that have been broken by loss and sin, but restores them as well.

And sometimes it shows up in the form of a precious pup named Scout.

What truth or characteristic about God do you need to return to? Join the conversation by posting below or heading over to our Facebook page to share. We’d love to hear from you!

Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Surrender?

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Welcome to Facets of Faith, a space where three friends share their perspectives on a topic each month. For July, we’re chatting about surrendering our lives to the One who loves us. Be sure to check out what Tracy and Jen had to say by clicking on their names. Kim continues the conversation this week.

This isn’t the life I chose.

I remember walking through downtown London, having just turned 40 while on a trip to visit my oldest daughter on her semester abroad. Meandering my way from Notting Hill toward Big Ben, my thoughts ran faster than my feet would move.

This isn’t the life I wanted.

Every failure seemed to scream for attention. Every failure and poor choice stood glaringly in my way. Ever since my youngest daughter died in a fire that destroyed our home, I feared becoming a statistic, and there were many.

I was a second wife – second marriages fail.

I lost a child – marriages fail after a child dies.

I had just turned 40, lost over 90 pounds, and my marriage was falling apart.

There I was, on a mini-pilgrimage through England, not only a statistic, but a cliche`. I wasn’t sure which was worse. Disappointment clawed at every good memory until all I could see where shredded remnants of a life I thought would last.

For I know the plans I have for you,” says the Lord. “They are plans for good and not for disaster, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11, NLT

How did I get here?

I didn’t read the Bible a lot as a kid. I knew a lot of the typical stories from Sunday School along with a few key verses I memorized, truths whose roots wrapped around my heart. The first was written in my childhood bible, given to me shortly after my family moved from Connecticut to Illinois. I remember feeling alone and anxious, wondering if I’d make friends, worried we’d move again and my life would be filled with more good-byes.

She is clothed in strength and dignity, she can laugh at the days to come.” Proverbs 31:25, NIV

I didn’t know about the Proverbs 31 woman then, I didn’t understand the lofty expectation this passage often set in women’s hearts. What I did know from the age of 8 was that a woman could be strong and not be afraid of the future. My expectation of life included strength.

A few years later, when I graduated from my children’s bible to a teen version, my mom set another verse in front of me.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your paths.” Proverbs 3:5-6, NIV

Freedom shouted from these verses directly to my soul. I could walk in freedom knowing that God guided my steps. I could walk in freedom as I trusted His plan for my life. I could walk in freedom and surrender my expectations and understanding of how life was supposed to be.

Walking in strength with dignity, having no fear of of the future, trusting God and not my own ways, surrendering to His ways in order to gain direction.

Life. Liberty. And the pursuit of surrender.

Knowing these verses was one thing, living them out . . . quite another.

As I grew, my American experience intertwined with my faith. Instead of the pursuit of surrender, I believed that a life following God meant a life filled with good things. With ease. With happiness. With more sunflowers than rain.

For just as the heavens are higher than the earth, so my ways are higher than your ways and my thoughts higher than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:9, NLT

When the storm of death crashed into my home, when the heart of my youngest daughter ceased beating, when breath was snatched from my lungs in grief, all that I knew needed to be redefined. All that I expected needed reworking. All that I understood needed a shift in perspective.

I returned to Scripture and dove in, head first. I sucked up its truth as it filled the crevices sorrow had carved. I returned to those verses of my youth and sat with them until they made more sense, until God revealed more of Himself, more of His heart and character. I realized I had to believe all of Scripture or none at all. I either had to believe God or determine He lied. I had to trust that Jesus did love me, or it was all just a childhood song.

I needed to surrender the life I wanted for the one that I lived, even though it included more heartache I ever thought possible to endure.

I have come that they may have life and have it to the full.” John 10:10

It’s been six years since I walked the streets of London. Six years filled with a lot of wrestling and questioning, a lot of doubt and fear. Six years filled with hope and healing, with grace and mercy, with redemption and restoration. Six years of learning to shift my eyes to Jesus, the One who does love me, who is the Author and Perfector of my life.

And while there isn’t a grand “happily ever after”, there is a lot of goodness, a life filled with love. The more I surrender to God’s plan for my life, the more I embrace this life I didn’t want, the more I taste His goodness and experience His grace.

No, this still isn’t the life I chose, but I’m learning to walk in strength and dignity, to trust God to lead my steps, and to giggle along the way.

How are you learning to surrender? Share below or head over to our Facebook page. Either way, come join the conversation!