Waiting, Choosing, and Giving Up

“To wait with openness and trust is an enormously radical attitude toward life.  It is choosing to hope that something is happening for us that is far beyond our own imaginings.  It is giving up control over our future and letting God define our life.”  Henri J. M. Nouwen

I’m guessing this is an ongoing discipline for everyone. Sometimes we wait well. Sometimes we choose well. Sometimes we give up well. We live in the ebbs and flows.

That last phrase, “letting God define our life,” is another way of describing my word for 2025 – Rest.

No other picture best captures how it’s played out than this.

I’m eager to play, create, commune, and gather the fruits of waiting, choosing, and giving up.

3 Losses Worth Counting

I resumed listening to Everything Happens this week after referring it to a friend. Always superb.

At the end of episode 8, season 15, Kate made this statement:

The places we come from, the people we love, the losses we carry, they shape us. They shape how we endure, how we hope, how we begin again.

“The losses we carry” struck me. I imagine because that describes some of my experience the last six months. These losses caught me by surprise-I didn’t see them coming. Well, sorta, but not in the way they came.

As I thought about them, a curious thought crossed my mind. “What if, in the effort of naming things, I counted my losses?” It wasn’t a “cut my losses and move on” thought. Rather, it was, “I believe there could be some value in reviewing them, determining what may have caused them, and defining the lessons learned.”

Somewhat like Seph Schlueter’s song Counting My Blessings, but the opposite.

Through this lens, here are three losses that have shaped my year that I’m happy to count:

Losing what I didn’t need-trust in the wrong people. Losing trust is always hard. I’ll go out on a limb to say that’s universal. But however long it takes, we can endure, find hope, and begin again. It took me a couple of months this time. And one key to endurance was leaning in to those who’ve proven they are the right people to trust.

Losing what I’d misplaced-hope in the wrong object. This one is on me. And it’s pretty universal also. We often find ourselves falling for what we can see becoming the object of our hope. If you can see it, it can become your hope bank. But when the wakeup alarm sounds, I see it as a notice to run back to the right object of hope and begin again.

Losing unhealthy emotions-anger for what can’t change. These emotions are everywhere, continuously on display, even celebrated. Exhausting. Disruptive. Gap-widening. They are not to be endured. They can be acknowledged, then I’ve found it best to begin again by working toward the grace to forgive myself for choosing them and averting my mind, heart, and body to gaze, consume, and maybe even fake healthy emotions until they take root and restore hope.

Loss seems harder and harder while aging. Maybe the lack of counting them is to blame. Here’s to better balance. Count it all.

Photo by Hisham Yahya on Unsplash

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.

The Shepherd Beside Us

(By Guest Blogger Dawn Van Beck)

Let’s talk sheep.

Jesus talks a lot about sheep. Throughout most of the book of John, chapter 10, He speaks of sheep as an analogy for His people, His followers.

Therefore, Jesus said again, “I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep. All who ever came before me were thieves and robbers, but the sheep did not listen to them. I am the gate; whoever enters through me will find pasture. The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” (John 10:7-10)

A shepherd guards the gate to keep wolves out. He guides his flock to green pastures where they find their supply of life. Jesus illustrates how He is the gatekeeper and the good shepherd for each of us. He guards and protects us (His sheep) from danger. He leads us to places of abundance where we find nourishment, comfort, and peace. Resting in the pasture God provides, we find a permanent state of enjoying all we need to live the full, abundant life He desires for us.

Now, you may be thinking this all sounds great and wonderful, but are you and I really being compared to sheep? Is this good or bad? Hmmmmm.

The prophet, Isaiah, suggests we all are “like sheep” and “have gone astray;” “each of us has turned to our own way” (Isaiah 53:6). Research suggests that sheep tend to wander off from the flock and become lost, giving them a common, negative description. Therefore, we assume they are dumb, stupid.

Sheep get a bad rap.

I have a feisty Dachshund named Lilly, who obeys me, most of the time.

She stops what she’s doing when I admonish her. She comes running when I call out her name. She sits at attention and listens for my direction. Lilly is not always successful in her efforts to follow me though. She has her own will. She sometimes wanders off or gets sidetracked, or even lost (mostly due to any nearby lizard diversion). Overall, despite her lizard distractions, Lilly has a sincere intent to please and obey me.

Reflecting on our likeness to sheep, my Lilly comes to mind. I am her gatekeeper, protecting her from harm. I am her shepherd, leading her to sources of sustenance and comfort. Even though she occasionally becomes preoccupied with lizards (and goes astray), she follows me, because . . . she knows my voice.

Jesus speaks again, providing an action step on our part.

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me (John 10:27).

If we desire to be led, we must listen to our leader.

Sheep are not dumb. They are dependent. And they know the voice of their shepherd.

A flock of sheep has a dependent relationship with their shepherd. They require guidance to identify the proper fields to graze in. Given they are easy targets, they need protection from swift, aggressive wolves. Sheep can live with little worries because they enjoy the direction, protection, and strength of their shepherd who leads them so they can thrive.

We, too, are dependent, which is most definitely not a weakness or defect, but rather, a blessing.

How glorious it is to rest under the direction and protection of our shepherd, Jesus. He leads us to lush pasture where there is fulfilling refreshment and shelter from the elements. He does not keep us on a leash (like I do with Lilly) but allows us to freely roam, provided we remain within reach of His voice.

How do we hear His voice?

  • Confess. Eliminate any sin barriers that may prevent you from hearing God’s voice.
  • Read the Bible. Reading Scriptures helps you discover God’s promises and who He is.
  • Pray. Your prayer conversations provide intimate communication with God.
  • Get Quiet. Cut out the noise in your life so you are ready to listen and hear God.

We must trust our leader, Jesus, and listen attentively to His voice. This is how God will lead us to the richest and safest of life-giving pastures.

——

Dawn Van Beck is an author and speaker passionate about helping women discover the redemptive power of God’s forgiveness so they may walk in the freedom of Christ. She has authored several short story collections, which include fiction romance and inspirational stories, along with two children’s books. Her first non-fiction book for Christian women, Deliver Me: Ditching Your Shame and Embracing God’s Freedom, is soon to be published. 

The Rich Ones

Letting go is a skill. It could also be called a discipline. It also seems the more one practices it the richer they become.

Letting go of regret increases grace.

Letting go of anger increases peace.

Letting go of pride increases humility.

Letting go of worry increases trust.

Letting go of what could have been improves vision.

Letting go of unmet expectations increases mercy.

Letting go of control increases faith.

Letting go of disappointment increases joy.

Those who know how to let go or at least are growing in this skill and discipline are growing in their wealth.

They are the rich ones.

Photo by Максим Степаненко on Unsplash

Five Traits of The Daily Warrior

Warriors. They’ve been on my mind today.

Put aside imagery of soldiers, battlefields, or tanks. Sure, those fit the bill. But I’m thinking about other images.

Before I share more, here’s a question: Who in your daily life belongs in your dictionary as the best model of your definition of a warrior?

One of your parents? Another family member?

Maybe a boss, or even a janitor?

Whoever they are, my guess is the list that follows describes them.

  1. They are loyal when others wouldn’t be.
  2. They would rather not receive recognition.
  3. They not only understand trust, they demand it.
  4. They don’t shy from “hard.”
  5. They masterfully connect timing and discerning.

We recognize someone’s “warriorhood” at various times, sooner with one than another, more obvious in one than another. I’m thinking of two warriors that I had the pleasure to engage today. One of them I’ve known for twelve years; it took me a while to see it. The other one I just met last year; it was pretty clear immediately.

Here are three challenges for you:

First Challenge: whoever your daily warrior is, Tell Them.

If it helps, rip the page out of the dictionary and staple their picture to it. They actually may like that even better.

Second Challenge: Thank God for them.

If it helps, use this blog post as a model and write your own in a journal. God may like that even better.

Third Challenge: Declare your “Warriorhood.”

If it helps, find a spot of dirt or sand. Draw a circle and scribe the word “warrior” inside. Step inside the circle. Ask God to affirm your declaration. You might like that even better.

Photo by Patrick Hendry on Unsplash

Limping and Flying

“What does it mean to trust God?”

That was the opening question in our staff meeting recently. Then a devotion was shared which compared trusting God to the work between trapeze artists. In their work, there are two roles: flyers and catchers. The job of the flyer is to do what it sounds like-release from the bar and fly in the air to be caught by their teammate. And by fly they mean do nothing. Don’t try to help the catcher. Don’t reach for the catcher. Just be in the air and trust that you will be caught.

As I listened to the devotion and the following discussion, my mind went to the previous day and my personal experience of trying to help when I wasn’t supposed to. Since my second neck surgery in 2014, I keep regular appointments with my massage therapist, Mike. And we have some interesting conversations while I’m on the table. There are rarely any lulls.

My neck was particularly tight that day, so Mike was having to spend more time on it. He always starts on my neck while I’m on my back. And he always finishes working on my neck with the same move. I know it’s coming; after 8 years I pretty much know exactly what he’s going to do next. His final move is to put both hands under my head, lift, and slowly bend my neck toward my chest. Most visits, he’ll do this several times.

On that day, I immediately knew I had done something Mike told me not to do the first time he worked on me. Rather than let him do the work, I helped. I mean, do I really need someone to lift my head toward my neck? I wasn’t born yesterday. Mike is from New York; he’s got no problem calling you out. So on that first visit when I helped him lift my head he said, “Don’t do that. While you’re on my table, you need to let me do all the work. Just pretend you’ve lost all control of your body. Go limp. Trust me and don’t get in the way of my work.”

In my talking while Mike lifted my head on this visit, I knew instantly that I had helped and wasn’t limp. So before he scolded me I said, “I helped you, didn’t I?” He said, “Yes, you did. Stop it.”

Too many times I try to help God. I get in the way. He doesn’t scold me, but he certainly lets me know things could be done more in his way, in his time, and in his perfection if I’d just go limp. Sure, I can do all the work I should while off the table. But when I’m on the table, he’s most going to have his way when I’m trusting him to do what only he can do.

Fly! God will catch you.

Go limp. God doesn’t need your help.

You can trust him.

Photo by Joseph Frank on Unsplash

Planting Seeds

It’s mid-morning and already a theme has emerged for the day.

The first reference came during our 7AM men’s coffee conversation. Two of the guys shared thoughts about how they have tried to follow nudges to help people in random or “not my job” situations. One expressed his perception of failure. We redirected him to consider that you don’t know if others have your same perception. Perhaps you did more good than you think, and it will reveal itself down the road. Consider your actions as a seed planted. You started the future of that seed.

The second reference came during our weekly staff meeting. Two staff members shared a musical performance of the hymn “Just As I Am.” Before they played, they handed out an article describing the story behind the lyrics. I just read it and had this thought. Ms. Elliott had no idea how many people would come to know her story and sing her song when she wrote it in 1834. Almost two hundred years later, people still are learning and growing because she planted a seed.

Planting seeds in other’s lives is pretty much a matter of following your heart, letting what’s in out. I believe it’s that simple. Trusting God can handle the future of seeds we’re given enables us to open our hearts and let the goodness flow.

May God bless your seed planting today.

Photo by Noah Buscher on Unsplash

A Time for Preaching and Listening

I came across Amy Cuddy‘s book while browsing in Barnes & Noble. The cover intrigued me.

I ho-hummed through the first two chapters. Then came #3, “Stop Preaching, Start Listening.” Highlighter activated. And mostly because of the illustrative work she retold of Boston minister Reverend Jeffrey Brown. Follow this link to his Ted Talk.

His story of turning around gang violence in Boston in the 1990’s definitely brings light to the definition of presence. You could say that he defines presence as simply showing up. But how you show up is what Cuddy emphasizes with this statement:

When we meet someone new, we quickly answer two questions: “Can I trust this person?” and “Can I respect this person?” In our research, my colleagues and I have referred to these dimensions as warmth and competence respectively.

She ties warmth and trust together, competence and respect together. And whether we realize it or not, we first check a new acquaintance’s trustworthiness before their competence. Yet, when people are asked which they’d rather be seen as, most choose competent. Cuddy believes that desire can lead to costly mistakes.

To avoid that mistake, she encourages us to focus on the value of listening. Here are five reasons why:

  1. People can trust you.
  2. You acquire useful information.
  3. You begin to see other people as individuals-and maybe even allies.
  4. You develop solutions that other people are willing to accept and even adopt.
  5. When people feel heard, they are more willing to listen.

In order to get somewhere with the gang members, Reverend Brown had this attitude: The youth have to be looked at not as the problem but as partners. How much farther might we get in all life’s arenas if we adopted this mindset? In our families, in our offices, in our courtrooms, in our churches, in our schools, in our legislative bodies, in our town halls, in our social media posts, in our spotlight moments, in our journalism, in our prayers?

There is a time for preaching and a time for listening. How much further might we get if we honored those times?

Stewarding Well

In the last week I’ve been struck by a theme. It started with a conversation, then continued unexpectedly in the book I was reading.

In the conversation I realized a summary of how I was answering questions about my current life outlook had to do with being a good steward. My summary was this: “I’m trying to steward well my past, present, and future.” In a journal entry the next morning, I wrote four action words by those tenses that could describe that stewarding.

  • Past: Learn, Forgive, Release, Praise
  • Present: Abide, Listen, Observe, Praise
  • Future: Anticipate, Release, Trust, Praise


As I chewed on these words and my summary, as God does, he showed out by having the next chapter in the book I was reading be on this very subject. Chapter 5 of A Life God Rewards is entitled “The Question of Your Life.” Using Jesus’ teachings, Bruce Wilkinson suggests that the important daily question for our lives should be this: “How will I steward what my Master has placed in my care?”
That’s what a steward does-manages his master’s assets. And in the case of a Christian’s life, those assets include talents, strengths, personality, and interests. Stewarding well requires faithfulness. Faithfulness to the action words in my journal entry may be a good place to start.

This week may be a God-given opportunity for all of us to chew on these thoughts. How do we steward the last year? How do we steward this week? How do we steward 2021? 

May we all be good stewards for the Master!