Deliver Me (book review)

Meeting writers after you’ve read their book or blog is an interesting experience. My experiences have always been positive. I can’t think of an interaction when I walked away saying, “They weren’t at all what I expected.”

There’s a whole different vibe when you know them before they are published or start a blog. If you thought you knew them well beforehand, you find out pretty quickly that they have layers, stories that have made them the person you know. In many ways, you walk away from reading their work saying, “What a gift they just gave the world!”

That’s my response to reading my friend Dawn Van Beck‘s latest book Deliver Me. Only having crossed paths this last year, we are still learning our layers and stories. Well, I guess I can’t say that as much now since that’s pretty much what Dawn does in this book. And she doesn’t hold back.

Dawn’s raw vulnerability as she addresses regrets, shame, forgiveness, and letting go relays her healing journey to freedom. You can imagine she states many life-giving lessons, but here’s the one that I most appreciated.

That’s what happens when you give God a little-He creates more. (chapter 11, “Releasing the Shackles”)

In describing a dream where she experienced the release from shame and the gift of forgiveness, Dawn paints a clear picture of what I believe she did by writing this book. One belief of mine: I believe she gave more than a little. She gave a whole lot more. And God is creating even more.

Dawn, thank you for giving. Thank you for sharing your story. I pray God continues to create more.

A Shepherd Looks at Psalm 23 (book review)

After reading The Lord is My Courage on hoopla, a related title was suggested which I decided to read because of the unique promise. That promise was a look at this poem from the basis of the author’s years as a keeper of sheep. It did not disappoint.

An overall takeaway is just how near death sheep can be unless their shepherd relentlessly cares for them. Keller explains that David’s poem actually addresses all four seasons in a year of a sheep’s life and what is necessary for the sheep to “not want.”

The strange thing about sheep is that because of their very makeup it is almost possible for them to be made to lie down unless four requirements are met…They are free of all fear, free from friction, free of pests, and free from hunger. (Chapter 3, “He Makes Me Lie Down in Green Pastures”)

In that same chapter he explains that a flock that is restless, discontented, always agitated, and disturbed never does well. Sound familiar? The value of being made to lie down is to our benefit.

The most vivid image Keller paints comes in chapter five, “He Restores My Soul.” He draws a parallel between another familiar David passage in Psalm 42:11, “Why are you downcast, O my soul? Why so disturbed within me? Put your hope in God…”

Only those acquainted with sheep and their habits understand the significance of a “cast” sheep or a “cast down” sheep.

This is an old English shepherd’s term for a sheep that has turned over on its back and cannot get up again by itself.

A cast sheep is a very pathetic sight. Lying on its back, its feet in the air, it flays away frantically struggling to stand up, without success. Sometimes it will bleat a little for help, but generally it lies there lashing about in frightened frustration.

If the owner does not arrive on the scene within a reasonably short time, the sheep will die…Nothing seems to so arouse his constant care and diligent attention to the flock as the fact that even the largest, fattest, strongest, and sometimes healthiest sheep can become cast and be a casualty.

He goes on to describe what’s required when he finds a cast ewe, which includes rubbing limbs to restore circulation after picking her up one or more times until she regains equilibrium and starts to walk steadily and surely.

One final noteworthy thought is this one from chapter 7, “Even Though I Walk Through the Valley.” Keller shares that this is a turn in the poem not only from the viewpoint but also in the season being described, how summer and autumn look for the shepherd and his flock. Keller explains David’s firsthand experience by making this statement: “Never did he take his flock where he had not already been before.”

If you find yourself today in search of freedom, or lying on your back flaying, or walking through the valley, rest assured your shepherd is with you. He has what you need. He’s watching over you. I encourage you to find a way to read this book to let those truths grow roots in your heart, mind, and soul.

Photo by Peter Hoogmoed on Unsplash

Keep the Seeds Coming

Recently, after reading a book about the life of Jesus, I decided it was time to read through the Gospels. For the most part, I’m taking it a chapter a day.

This week I read the Parable of the Sower, one of Jesus’ most well-known parables, in Mark 4; it’s also found in Matthew 13 and Luke 8. The teaching focuses on four outcomes of the sown seeds: stolen, short-lived, choked, and fruitbearing.

Keeping your path receptive to the sown seeds requires diligence. Diligence against predators. Diligence to protect roots. Diligence to prioritize eternal things. Diligence to stay hungry and thirsty.

The featured picture on this post is from my back yard. Fortunate for me, HOA fees keep the community where I now live quite immaculate. In the month that I’ve lived here, it’s clear diligence is heavily disciplined.

The state of my heart and soul is no one else’s responsibility. I can’t pay a fee for someone else to be diligent on my behalf. Pretty sure that leads to wrong priorities, unprotected and rootless living. If my heart was originally set on eternity, it’s in my best interest to diligently maintain that origin.

Keep the seeds coming.

The Beauty of Singing Over Someone

Rewatched Rain Man last night. Worth it. So many layers that each time I watch I have different reactions.

In the scene that takes the plot in a new direction, I had one of those reactions. Watch.

The 40-second clip of Ray and Charlie singing is what grabbed me. The beauty of their reconnection through music is unique and priceless.

Singing over someone is beautiful. It’s not the same as singing to someone, like Ray had to Charlie. It’s not the same as singing about or with someone. Singing over them stands alone in the connection created, thus the unique beauty of the moment.

The reason this stuck out to me was I had the opportunity to witness the beauty of someone singing over someone just the day before. I won’t go into the details. Technically, I wasn’t supposed to be there. I count it a joy to have witnessed.

When you sing over someone, no one cares about the elements and expectations of a grand performance like pitch or stage presence. In fact, it’s the opposite. The connection of hearts means the most in that moment. And that’s where the beauty lies.

As churchgoers attend church this weekend, I hope they’ll allow this connection to have room, whether they are being sung over or are doing the singing over.

As sabbath keepers embrace their time this weekend, I wish for them at least one moment of such beauty.

The New Home (Green Light) Odyssey: The Right Agent

I closed on a new home April 28th and within 24 hours was completely moved in. That’s the short version. The long version includes many right decisions that I eventually started calling “going through the green lights” that I continued to experience.

The decision to move began in December simply by responding to a “for rent” sign. I wasn’t really sure about renting, but it was almost too good to be true. A .2 mile trip to work. After checking it out, the green light read “Move, but buy instead of rent.” The odyssey began.

I didn’t have a timeline other than sometime in 2025, ideally the first half. I now drove five days a week to Sarasota versus three, so the sooner the better, and before the summer heat.

I started a relationship with Zillow. I thought I knew where I’d be most comfortable in Sarasota, so I started following listings in that area. I found quickly that the possibilities widened to areas I had previously ruled out.

Zillow isn’t stupid. Floods of emails suck you in and can foster obsession. One trick that got me moving further on the journey was open house notifications. I finally broke down and went through the next green light: “It’s just an open house.  Go and see what that location and price point feels like.”

That decision to go to a March 2nd open house led to an unexpected green light: “Here’s the agent you are going to work with.”

Funny. I didn’t know I was looking for one. I wasn’t in a hurry. I thought I had plenty of time.

Don’t get me wrong. No one forced me through that green light. But it was a little too obvious. My coming to that open house and them being the agent at that showing was supposed to happen. I wasn’t forced; but when the light is green, I’ve learned to keep moving.

Fear or uncertainty can cause us to not proceed down a path that we weren’t expecting or may not think we are ready for. This part of the home buying journey reminded me of two main things about God and his children:

  • He’s always at work preparing us for what he has in store for us.
  • He knows the desires of our heart and excitedly wants to fulfill them.

If you are sitting at a green light, take heart. It’s safe to move forward.

Photo by Mark König on Unsplash

Inheritance

Came across this version of Matt Maher’s “Inheritance” yesterday. What a find!

Happy Easter!

Lyrics:

VERSE 1 Right from the very start You had me in Your heart Nothing but dust and yet You gave me life and breath Loved me before I knew For nothing that I could do You wrapped Your Word in flesh What an inheritance

CHORUS You don’t withhold a thing You were the offering I don’t deserve it It doesn’t make sense What an inheritance

VERSE 2 There on a lonely hill 10,000 debts fulfilled Heard in Your final breath Last will and testament Father, Your work is done Now let Your kingdom come Death has been laid to rest What an inheritance

POST-CHORUS 1 Oh, oh, oh What an inheritance

VERSE 3 Spirit of life and truth Filling the upper room Beating within my chest What an inheritance Counsel and closest friend What an inheritance

CHORUS 2 Freely You give to me Freely I will receive I don’t deserve it It doesn’t make sense What an inheritance

Easter Playlist

One thing I’m grateful for is the availability of creating playlists. They are a tool for wellness and many other things.

My Easter playlist is one of my favorites. Usually each year I edit it, typically by adding new songs. I’m not doing that this year. I’m enjoying the familiarity of the existing 20 songs, letting them remind me why this week matters.

Most of the songs were released over a decade ago, and probably half of them never made it to radio. They are hidden gems to my spirit.

I encourage you to check out my playlist for two reasons:

  • To receive the fullness of Easter
  • To consider what could be on your Easter playlist

https://music.amazon.com/user-playlists/d4c45641a1b1432a9c587c183b04c3dfsune?ref=dm_sh_FbW3SbQHcFxAFbobVKMB3Kwk6

Alone Yet Connected

Finished listening to Seeing with the Eyes of the Heart today. One of the last discussion points centered on the reality we all encounter of facing aloneness.

Adyashanti stated he believed almost no one understood Jesus, making him one of the most alone figures in spiritual literature. To explain what he meant, his reply included these thoughts about aloneness.

Engaging spirituality in an authentic way will bring us to encountering our aloneness many, many, many times…Ironically the greatest feeling of belonging comes through these deep and profound encounters with our aloneness. It’s so paradoxical that our greatest sense of belonging comes by going through those doorways of aloneness…We almost always try to do end runs around aloneness, finding surrogates for the experience of aloneness rather than really meeting it…We’re all one. That’s a really great and nice thing. But we all are simultaneously very unique expressions of the one. We all have our very unique journey that is not exactly like anyone else’s…Aloneness, in the ends, leads through the door not only to connectedness but a kind of spiritual autonomy.

I relate.

There is an aloneness on the journey of making your faith yours, not anyone else’s. Think of any faith decision you’ve made to this point that was lifechanging or formative. It came down to you making that choice by yourself. Those decisions, those moments rooted you, grounded you, expanded the territory of your faith, and girded your faith in such a way that it no longer relied on another person’s faith.

Yet, because of that, you now have the strength, the maturity, or the allure to those in your faith community that draws people to inquire how you got it. And the connectedness is more about the kingdom than you. Your aloneness that you walked through, whether you wanted to or not, brightens your image of God. It’s attractive while also preparatory for your next round of aloneness.

These thoughts remind me of this quote:

“Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don’t be afraid.”  -Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words

Beautiful and terrible await you in aloneness. Don’t be afraid.

Photo by Matt Le on Unsplash

3 Thoughts on Forgiveness

I’m in the middle of listening to Seeing With the Eyes of the Heart.

Roughly a third of the way in, Adyashanti asked to address the topic of forgiveness. His thoughts were striking.

At one level I think the greatest forgiveness is when we really see that there’s no need for forgiveness because everything is inherently, consistently forgiven. It’s human beings that decide we are sort of God’s arbitrators of who can and cannot be forgiven, and it disconnects us from the experience of the way forgiveness works in the universe.

No need for forgiveness seems utopian. Yet, his reasoning is captivating. He’s not saying there is no literal need for forgiveness. He’s suggesting we must task ourselves to learn how it works, first from God and then between humans.

Some of Jesus’ last words on the cross were “Forgive them for they know not what they do,” referring to the people who put him there. If you are on the cross and you can forgive the people who put you there, that’s a pretty big forgiveness. You’re forgiving hate, and you’re forgiving violence…there’s a great teaching in that. If he couldn’t have forgiven them, he could have never been free from them. He would have been trapped in their hate because he couldn’t forgive their hate. He would have been trapped in their violence because he couldn’t forgive their violence…Ignorance can take some pretty violent forms…Most people are pretty much doing what they can do. What they are doing is an exact reflection of the state of their consciousness.

The striking image of these thoughts is being trapped. Couple that with being trapped in hate or violence with the foundation being the other person’s ignorance, forgiveness not only seems possible but desirable.

If we have no forgiveness, our participation in the world is seared with anger and hate, even if we are working with something that is very necessary and good. This motivation seems to come from fear rather than love.

May our searing be exposed. May love overcome our fear.

Doors

(At the end of February, I shared a few posts about Jesus’ statement “I Am the Door.” Here’s another one by my friend, guest blogger Mark Stanifer.)

I came across the image in this post during a season of transition. It mirrored exactly what I was feeling—standing in an empty room with only doors in every direction. No furniture. No guidance. Only choices.

That year, my word was co-operate. And the message became clear: this wasn’t about finding the one “right” door. It was an invitation to move, to trust, to co-operate with what God was doing in me.

I had recently left a corporate America role after 20 years. It was a massive shift. I wanted clarity, direction before moving—instead, I had doors. And silence. No signs. No indication of what was behind the doors. Simply doors awaiting my move. 

At first, I felt stuck. Fear kept me frozen in place—fear of making the wrong move, of wasting time, of choosing poorly. I told myself I was being careful or wise, but really, I was just afraid. And that fear masked itself as waiting on God, when in reality, He was waiting on me.

What shifted for me was this: God didn’t want me to wait for answers. He wanted me to walk in partnership with Him. The movement itself was the point. So I began opening doors to see what was on the other side. 

The movement did not lead to immediate results. Some doors were dead ends. Some were locked. Some simply lead me back to the same room. But the benefit was more than the results. It was in the movement itself. Because I learned that He wasn’t waiting behind a specific door—He was walking through each one with me. And, eventually I opened a door that lead to a whole new room to explore.

In John 10, Jesus says, “I am the door.” That line has stayed with me. He doesn’t just point to the way forward—He is the way forward. He is the door, the First Door.

The door, I’ve realized, isn’t the destination. It’s the turning point. It marks the moment of trust. And it’s the threshold through which partnership begins—both with Jesus and with who He wants me to become.

This journey has been deeply personal. It’s not about replicating someone else’s story or steps. The doors in front of me are mine to open. And what they lead to—growth, challenge, disappointment, doubts, pruning, joy—is uniquely tied to who I’m becoming. As you face and open your doors, your learning will likely be different. 

Here’s what I’ve learned:

  • Don’t wait for the perfect door. Choose one and walk through it.
  • Courage is choosing in spite of the fear.
  • The wisdom comes from the choosing, not the waiting.
  • God isn’t waiting on the other side. He’s walking through each door with me.
  • The door is part of the growth. That’s where the pruning happens so I can bear more fruit.
  • This is a partnership. We’re co-creating my future, as I co-operate with how He’s at work in me.

Jesus said He came to give us life to the full. That life begins by first walking through Him—He is the First Door. The only way to true life is through Jesus. Once we’ve stepped through Him, we can trust He’s with us through every other door we open, no matter what’s on the other side.