I Can’t Do All Things

 I can do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. (Philippians 4:13 KJV)

I remember memorizing this Bible verse (in the King James version above) as a child. It is one of the most quoted (and, I think, misunderstood) verses I know. Taken out of context, it seems to promise unlimited potential for the Christian. I can… perform miracles, do six impossible things before breakfast, leap over a tall building, bring about world peace, and finish folding the laundry from last week!

The reality is that I can’t do ALL things. There are many things I simply cannot do– even as a Christian. I cannot grow six inches taller or shed 45 pounds overnight. I cannot cure cancer. I cannot bring about world peace. Christ CAN do any of that and more; and He can work through me to accomplish great things– more than I can do in my own power. But if I expect to do whatever I imagine or aspire to– I will be disappointed. Even with God’s Power working in my life.

But God is not only a source of power– He is the source of wisdom and love. And in His wisdom and love, he often limits what He will allow me to do. So, there are supernatural things I cannot do without God’s help and power, and there are seemingly ordinary things I cannot do without God’s permission and grace, because doing those things will go against God’s perfect plan.

I was speaking recently with a friend of mine from church. We were speaking of infertility– a problem we have both experienced. Most of the women I know who experience infertility, barrenness, multiple miscarriages, etc., have to come to terms with the ache of being “abnormal.” We assume that “normal” women can become pregnant and have children. We accept that sometimes a woman will lose a child in the womb. But when it happens over and over again, or when a woman can’t seem to get pregnant, it causes a woman to question her identity and worth. “Am I even a ‘real’ woman?” “What kind of woman can’t do the most basic “womanly” thing– give life?” We also have to come to terms with the fact that God has chosen to allow this in our lives. Does God still love me, or is He angry with me or punishing me for being “not enough”? How can God love me and let me suffer such emptiness?

And we’ve all heard stories– amazing stories in the Bible and elsewhere– of women who DID get pregnant through a miracle. Sarah, Mary, Elizabeth, Rachel, Hannah…In fact, we hear nothing of women who are barren in the old Bible stories…or do we? Anna in Luke chapter 2 is an old widow who lives in the temple. There is no mention of any children, only of her devotion to the Temple and to her God. Dorcas, who was raised from the dead by the Apostle Peter in Acts 9, is praised, not for her motherhood, but for her charitable deeds among her neighbors. Deborah, the prophetess and judge who led the Israelites into battle along with their general Barak, is mentioned as a wife, but not a mother. In ancient societies, very few women were singled out for praise outside of their roles as wives and mothers.

As women, we may question many aspects of our “role” in society. Some of us chafe at the traditional roles we are expected to perform, while others question why their traditional roles seem to be denied. I spent decades questioning why I remained “on the sidelines”– unmarried, lackluster dating opportunities, out of step with other women my age. When I first was diagnosed with Stein-Levinthal syndrome and told that it would almost eliminate any chance that I could become a mother, it was almost a relief. At least I could “congratulate” myself for not disappointing a husband I didn’t have, or go through the pain of watching him question his manhood when no children came, not knowing if the “problem” was his or mine. Other friends of mine question their role as “the weaker sex,” going to great lengths to prove that they don’t need a man in their life, or that they can compete with men for jobs, status, wealth, and power.

But God didn’t just create me to “DO” things. God created me to BE. And He created me to be in relationship with Him. And my experience gives me the opportunity to speak into the lives of other women who are hurting. I have found purpose and comfort, love and abundant joy, challenge and opportunity in the midst of infertility. And now that I’m in my sixties, I find it easier to reconnect with women my age who are empty-nesters, grandmas, widows, and “maiden aunts.” God has allowed us to DO many things.

I am struck by the fact that Philippians 4:13 was written by the Apostle Paul. Paul was in prison when he wrote this letter. “I can do all things” did not mean that Paul was able to escape prison walls or the sentence he was under. It didn’t mean that he could compel his friends to stay and attend to his needs. It didn’t mean that he could escape this “thorn in the flesh” that he wrote about in 2 Corinthians or defy the aging process. Paul didn’t mean that he could literally do “all” things. But he was reminding the Philippian believers of all the amazing things that he could and did do in his work as a missionary. He didn’t cheat death altogether, but he cheated it several times, living through beatings and shipwrecks and snakebites. He didn’t escape the thorn in the flesh, but he persevered in spite of it. And remarkably, though Paul never married or had biological children, he built relationships with people like Timothy, whom he considered a son. And He accomplished amazing things for the Kingdom of God!

So, no, I cannot do ALL things– I cannot do some of the miraculous things I want to do. Sometimes, it is even God’s will that I should be prevented from doing such things– even good and “normal” things– in order that God can mold me into a shape and for a purpose that is just right for HIS perfect plan. I may not see it in my lifetime or understand it perfectly. I will still grieve for what “might have been” in my life. But I will continue to experience joy in the journey the God has mapped out for me. And whatever He asks– well, I CAN do that! Not on my own, but beyond what I can imagine!

When “Mother’s Day” Hurts

baby-boy-child-cute-40998.jpeg

Yesterday was Mother’s Day here, celebrating and honoring the mothers in our lives. Mother’s Day can be a wonderful day of celebration.  But it can also be one of the most painful days of the year.  Millions of women each year face acute heartbreak on this day– instead of celebration, they face the haunting memories of abandonment or separation, infertility, miscarriage, infant deaths, broken relationships, missed opportunities, regrets, suicide, and the loss of their own mothers.  There are no cheery greeting cards or perky flower baskets that can erase that kind of gut-wrenching pain– no pithy words or consolation gift that makes this day easy or comfortable.

I have an awesome mother-in-law, the world’s best sister, world-class sisters-in-law, a remarkable step-daughter, daughter-in-law, granddaughter, and a host of other wonderful women in my life.   I love being an auntie, step-mom, daughter-in-law, (step) grandma, great-aunt, and great-grand-aunt! I love that I am still in touch with former students and story hour kids, Sunday School and Bible School attendees, and others I have had the honor to mentor.  So I celebrate Mother’s Day and honor those people and all the ways their lives have impacted mine, and (hopefully) my life has connected with theirs.

But none of that chases away the ache of never having a child of my own– never knowing the joy of tucking my own child into bed; never being able to kiss away a boo-boo or a bad dream and say the words, “Mommy loves you.”  None of that will bring back my beloved mom or grandma my favorite aunts, mentors and friends who are gone.  I miss them more each year; I miss their wisdom, their strength, their comfort.

Maybe because of my own experience, I’m more attuned to it, but I see and hear a lot of pain around this time each year.  My heart goes out to all of the women with empty arms– the women who had to bury a huge chunk of their heart along with a child they can never hold; the women who had to say goodbye to the only one who could ever reassure them that, “Mommy loves you.”

My prayer today is that you would know that even in those moments when your heart is crushed, and your arms ache to hold or be held, that you are not alone; you are not forgotten.  God knows the aching loss of seeing his only son on the cross as he took his last gasping breath before he died.  Jesus experienced the sting of rejection from the people who should have called him brother, and “Father.”  Throughout the Bible, God gave us examples of women (Eve, Sarah, Hagar, Rebecca, Leah, Rachel, Hannah, Elizabeth, Mary and others) who knew the ache of barrenness, rejection, strife, and loss of children.  God saw their pain; he heard their cries of distress and their prayers.  He sees you too.  He hears you.  He loves you beyond anything you can imagine, and beyond where any grief, guilt, or despair can take you.

More than this, he has promised to be close to the poor in spirit, those who mourn, the broken-hearted, and to those who need rest and comfort.  He promises his presence, and he promises to turn our mourning into joy and bring us peace.  He is eager to restore us, to renew our strength, and to reassure us that we are loved with an everlasting love.  God created us in his image– and that includes the image of a mother hen gathering chicks, It includes the image of Mary who wrapped the God of the Universe in swaddling cloths and tucked him into a manger of hay, and who watched as that same God of the Universe died for her.

church-window-church-window-stained-glass-46154.jpeg

God knows the passion, the pain, and the pure love of a woman’s heart– even when “Mother’s Day” hurts.

I Already Prayed About That…

Have you ever been in a season where you felt like you were praying about the same situation over and over with no results? No answers, and no indication that God has even heard? And you feel frustrated and even guilty about praying AGAIN about it?

Photo by SHVETS production on Pexels.com

We live in an “instant” culture. Instant banking, instant coffee, drive-through fast food, and 24-hour news cycles give us the expectation that we can get whatever we want or need with the push of a button or flip of a switch. Just yesterday, I pulled into the grocery store parking lot, and, seeing how full the parking lot was, I drove two miles away to a different store, because I anticipated long lines at the checkout! I don’t like waiting. I don’t like “wasting” time.

Photo by RODNAE Productions on Pexels.com

But God often puts us in a “holding pattern.” He may seem silent or distant, non-responsive or even absent. And in our impatience, we may stop bringing our burden to God, and seek elsewhere for answers or relief. Even when we know that God has promised to hear us, and never leave us alone, we long for instant gratification. And when we don’t get it, we start to wonder and doubt.

Photo by Liza Summer on Pexels.com

Sometimes, I feel angry in my impatience. I want answers! I want to know the next step forward! Other times, I feel hurt. Does God not hear me? Does He not understand my need? Sometimes, I even feel guilty. I know that God “knows” everything. Why do I keep bothering Him with the same thing? Am I asking for the wrong thing? Am I asking in the wrong way?

Photo by Nathan Cowley on Pexels.com

It is okay to have questions. It is normal to wonder. And I don’t have a “quick fix” answer for times like this. I think most of us experience these questions at some point. And the Bible has many examples throughout history of others who waited– some patiently, and others not so much…

Abraham and Sarah waited years for a family. In their impatience, they tried to do it in their own wisdom with heart-breaking results that echo down through thousands of years. Hannah prayed for years while enduring the taunts of her rival, Peninnah, before God gave her a son. A woman who touched Jesus’s robe had prayed and waited years for healing from her constant bleeding and pain. I know of parents who prayed for years that their wayward son or daughter would return home– some kept praying until they died, never seeing an answer.

But one comforting takeaway from all these Biblical and real-life examples– God DOES see and hear us. He left all those stories for us to read, knowing that we, too, would face trying and overwhelming circumstances. God doesn’t always give us an immediate or conclusive answer in our struggles. If He did, we would never develop a real and solid faith. God is less interested in answering our questions than He is in sharing our struggles. He does not want to walk ahead of us and smooth out our every path. Instead, He wants to walk beside us in the hills and the valleys of life.

Photo by Ivan Samkov on Pexels.com

So even if “I already prayed about that..” I can keep praying with confidence. God hears. He knows. And He cares enough to slog it out right by my side. And yours.

El-Roi–The God Who Sees…

Do you ever feel invisible? One of the common complaints among depressed people is that they feel as if no one sees them. “No one would notice if I just disappeared..” “No one really notices me…I just fade into the background.” “I always get passed over; pushed aside; ignored…” “Everyone just seems to look right through me. It’s like I don’t even exist.”

Photo by Engin Akyurt on Pexels.com

In a world of 7.8 billion people, https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/World_population#:~:text=In%20demographics%2C%20the%20world%20population,more%20to%20reach%207%20billion. it’s easy to see why someone might be tempted to feel that way. But it isn’t true. No one exists in a vacuum. Even when it feels like we are being ignored or dismissed or forgotten, someone is always watching.

Photo by Mike Chai on Pexels.com

Hundreds of years ago, Hagar, the slave girl of Abraham’s wife, Sarah, believed herself to be abandoned and alone. She had been used by her mistress as a pawn in a scheme to give Abraham a son. Hagar was able to do what Sarah could not (get pregnant by Abraham), and she let it go to her head. But she was still a slave. When Sarah complained to her husband, Abraham reminded her that she still had power over Hagar. Sarah used that power to mistreat Hagar, causing her to run away into the wilderness. But God was watching. The “angel of the Lord” not only saw Hagar– he found her beside a spring and called out to her by name. He asked why she was in the wilderness, and then gave her a promise– that her descendants would become too numerous to count! In response, she gave God a name– El-Roi– “the god who sees me.”

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

The Bible is filled with stories of people–sometimes warriors and kings, but often ordinary, even lowly, people: slaves, younger siblings, nameless servants–who are seen and chosen by God for His Glory, to play a special role in history. God sees them all; He knows them all by name (even if their names are not recorded in the Bible!) He knows each person’s strengths and weaknesses; He knows everyone who will cross their path, how their story began, and how their story will end.

Photo by Ivandrei Pretorius on Pexels.com

We can take great comfort in knowing that God sees us. There is nothing hidden from Him– when we are slighted or mistreated; when we are the ones wronging others…He knows our thoughts and emotions. He knows our strengths and weaknesses (better than we know ourselves!) He understands– even when we don’t–what’s happening in and around us. God sees us exactly as we are– and He already knows all that we can become! Hagar could see that she was a pawn. She could see herself giving Abraham a child when Sarah had not. But God didn’t see her as “just” a slave girl or “just” a pregnant woman. He saw her her as a young woman in distress; as a woman with unique hopes and dreams, aches and disappointments; and as the ancestress of millions upon millions of people– unique people, each one loved and seen and known intimately by their creator. He saw her as someone worthy of being found and called and reassured. And even though God sent her back into a difficult situation, He kept His eyes on her, and came to her rescue again years later.

Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

On days when you feel invisible, or forgotten– when it seems that no one would notice your absence– remember Hagar’s experience with El-Roi– “The God who Sees.”

Blog at WordPress.com.

Up ↑