"Set Apart" Series, Part Three: Confessions & Questions

I have a confession to make: I'm at a place in life where I have more questions than answers about what it means to live the "set apart" life. Let me just share with you a handful of Scriptures regarding living out our faiths in the world.

We are "the light of the world." Matthew 5:14

We are to "go into all the world and preach the good news to all creation." Mark 16:15

We as disciples of Christ are to "be brought to complete unity to let the world know" that Jesus loves them. John 17:23

We're not to "conform any longer to the pattern of this world," but to test and approve what God's perfect will is. Romans 12:2

The Bible teaches us to "say 'No' to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and Godly lives in this present age." Titus 2:11

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world." James 1:27

"Friendship with the world is hatred toward God." James 4:4

"Do not love the world or anything in the world." 1 John 2:15

The verses go on and on, and it is very clear to me that God wants me in this world, sharing my story and letting His light shine in and through me. At the same time, He wants me to live a holy, blameless life, set apart for Him. For me, the rub comes while I'm trying to live these Truths out practically. Just when I think I've got a grasp on the balance in the two, something comes along to drive me back to my knees asking.

Living out the "set apart" life starts with confessing I have no idea how to do so. I need the Lord's wisdom, discernment and leading. As I pause and ponder, I also pray and praise, knowing that I'll only have what I need if I ask the Lord to provide it for me.

As I've shared from my gut with the Lord this week, here are some of the questions I've thrown out at him:
How can I be holy & blameless without clinging to legalism?
How can I be a light in this world without some of the darkness absorbing me?
Can I be out among those lost without becoming consumed by self-righteousness and judgment?
When something unfamiliar & scary comes along, will I trust You to help me face it, or will I try to protect myself?
Am I too wealthy, God? Do I need to give up more of my possessions?
How do I reach out to the hurting without their hurts consuming my heart and mind?
Is it okay to relax and have pleasure, or should I use every waking moment to reach others?
What in the world do I do with all this technology, God? What is the balance?

I'm back to the beginning in saying that I have more questions than answers, but I know as I continue to seek the Lord, He will teach me His heart. I'm skeptical of anyone who says they've got it all figured out, because I truly believe that the more we grow in our faith walks, the more questions we have, and the deeper they are.

I also believe this is where grace comes in. So many times, we use grace as our "get out of sin free" card, and it is true that when we repent, His forgiveness is readily available to us. But the deeper part of grace is that when we want to live righteously and falter out of ignorance or immaturity, His grace is there to meet us when we hit our knees asking the whys and hows. I love the way the Message puts it for us in Romans 8:26-28:

"Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting,

God's Spirit is right alongside helping us along.

If we don't know how or what to pray, it doesn't matter.

He does our praying in and for us,

making prayer out of our wordless sighs,

or aching groans.

He knows us far better than we know ourselves,

knows our pregnant condition,

and keeps us present before God.

That's why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives

of love for God is worked into something good."

It all goes back to the Lord. (Doesn't it always?) I'm so thankful He loves me enough to help me sort through my weaknesses, my wonderings, my wanderings. I praise Him that He takes my desire to please Him and brings it in line with the will of the Father as I surrender to the Holy Spirit. "You, dear children, are from God and have overcome them, because the One who is in you is greater than the one who is in the world." 1 John 4:4

What are some of the deep wonderings and ponderings in your faith walk?

RUN!!!

Have any phrases that repeat themselves over and over in your mind? I have many. One that comes up a LOT is the line from the movie Forrest Gump which his friend Jenny says every time he’s in trouble. “Run, Forrest, Run!”

Often, when I think of running in the spiritual sense, I picture resisting evil or fleeing for cover or safety when I’m in trouble. Verses like these come to my mind:

“…they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Isaiah 40:31b

“…let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance…”  Hebrews 12:1b

In other words..."Run, Laura, Run!"
I’ve become a pretty strong runner spiritually, even though sometimes I sprint in the wrong direction, forcing the Lord to help me out of the woods. But lately, He's reminded me to race with a different end in mind.

My friends regularly get a chuckle out of the fact that I call myself a female David. “I’m Davidia,” I’ll joke with them. That could seem like I’m bragging, because after all David is known as the man “after God’s own heart.” But that’s not the part of David's character I'm referring to. I’m talking about his high highs and his low lows. I mean, is there anyone else in the Bible that expresses his gut feelings—praise ones or depressed ones—to the Lord so vulnerably and vehemently? When it’s praise time, the goin’ is good. But when it’s down in the dirt time, it ain’t so pretty. (Bear in mind, though, that David almost always praised the Lord even in the midst of his low moments…this is not a quality of his that I’ve mastered yet).

It’s no wonder I run to the Psalms whenever I need company with my mood swings. Sometimes, Depression surfaces from somewhere within me, and I know I need to run fast and hard from it. The Lord is teaching me, though, that it’s not really about what I’m running FROM, it’s about who I’m running TO. 

I’m not running from my depression, I’m running to the Maker of joy. 

I’m not running from temptation, I’m running to the God of righteousness. 

I’m not running from my own personal prison. I’m running to the One who set me free.

“I run in the path of Your commands, for You have set my heart free.” Psalm 119:32

"Run, Laura, Run!"
How about you? Are you running from or to?

At one point in the movie that I mentioned above, Jenny says something to Forrest as she is getting ready to hitch a ride away from him and her problems for the dozenth time. “Listen. you promise me something, okay?” she begs. “Just if you’re ever in trouble, don’t try to be brave. You just run, OK? Just run away.”

Amen, Jenny. I couldn’t agree more in the context of this message. It’s not about us being brave enough. It’s about Him being strong in our weakness, for “God’s weakness is stronger than the greatest of human strength.” (1st Corinthians 1:25b) So, just run, okay?

Run to Righteousness. 

Run to Joy. 

Run to Forgiveness. 

Run to Truth. 

Run to Grace. 

Run to the Lord.

Run, Believer, Run!

“The name of the LORD is a strong tower; 

the righteous run to it and are safe.” 

Prov. 18:10

This is a devotional sent out via email to my lovinthearts.com subscribers. If you would like to receive these in your inbox, simply click here and add your email address. http://www.lovinthearts.com/SubscribeForm.html


All Scriptures are taken from the NIV unless otherwise noted.
Quotes from Forrest Gump were taken from imdb.com.

Romans 12:1/A POV Shift

Monday Manna is being hosted by Joanne at An Open Book today. I couldn't resist jumping in on the Scripture because I JUST FINISHED WRITING A DEVO ON ROMANS 12:1 for a completely unrelated writing project at my church (literally, the deadline was today). Joanne encouraged me to post some of it. I'm sure the timing is not a coincidence. Joanne posted an INCREDIBLE perspective on it, as far as all the others I've read so far, so go by and read and join in if you can...

Romans 12:1 “Therefore, I urge you, brothers, in view of God's mercy, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God—this is your spiritual act of worship.

My entire adult life has revolved around serving God, especially in worship and drama. For many years, this is how I understood Romans 12:1:

“…offer your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God…this is your spiritual act of worship.”

And I lived it out, offering myself to the Lord’s service, wherever He called me. I served Him with my talents, but also with my gifts of shepherding and encouragement. My prayer was for all of it to be holy and pleasing to the Lord, and to live out my call to worship.

An internal struggle came, however, when I noticed some strongholds in my life. Why am I struggling? I thought. I’m supposed to be holy! As I cried out desperately for help, the Lord lovingly showed me what I was missing in this “living sacrifice” kind of faith. He opened my eyes to the whole verse:

“THEREFORE, I urge you…IN VIEW OF GOD’S MERCY, to offer your bodies as living sacrifices…” (emphasis mine)

Once I understood the entire verse (and its context with the preceding chapters), I realized that the emphasis is not on ME living a life of worship. Rather, it is on living with God’s mercies in full view. It’s saying, “Therefore—after eleven chapters of theology showing what you’ve died to, what you’re alive to, and what the Lord has done for you—THEREFORE—In view of those mercies, see worship for what it really is—not a gift you give to God—rather an offering of grateful sacrifice you live for God, knowing you don’t deserve a lick of those mercies.”

But there’s that one last word: sacrifice. I say I’ll give it all, yet I feel an agitated resistance to any discomfort that accompanies it. The only way for me to say “not my will, but Yours, Lord” is to continually focus on God’s character. It takes a mind that is preoccupied with the truth of God—as verse two says—a renewed mind.

Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.”

With His renewal (and constant help), I’m able to live out God’s “pleasing and perfect will,” and finally experience true worship—the kind that flows from a grateful heart.

Lord Jesus, I am overwhelmed when I stop to think of all the mercies You have given me. Eternal love and grace and joy, saving faith, strength, the Holy Spirit as a helper, righteousness, eternal life and security and everlasting peace. All of these and so much more compel me to live for you, yet I'm so bad at it sometimes. Forgive me, Lord. Forgive me when I forget to look from this point of view, and strengthen me according to Your Word. Thank You for giving me everything I need for this life and for Godliness. I long to sacrifice my all for you today. In Jesus' name, Amen.

In the Key of HE,

Double The Irony

It's Fiction Fridays, and Patty from Patterings is graciously allowing me to be hostess. I'm so excited! To learn more about her meme, click here.

To post your own fiction or to read others today, just go to cute lil old Mr. Linky at the bottom of this post:

Double The Irony
How ironic, I dare say. My cross necklace, which represented my newly found freedom in Christ, was tangled up in knots. I slammed the heirloom piece down on the bathroom counter and looked up at my blurry face in the mirror. Just like your life, Sandy. It’s your senior year. You’re supposed to be having the time of your life, but instead, your life’s a mess.

That was the day I decided I wouldn’t hide the truth any longer. The difficult part, though, would be convincing my friend Tamara to do the same. We'd both shared the same secret for two years, and that meant we’d shared each other’s pain as well. So it was double the knots. But I’d heard on the Christian radio that morning, “And the Truth shall set you free...” I was desperate to be free.


“No way, Sandy. I won’t tell anyone about it. And if you do, our friendship is done, ya hear?”

After an hour of heartfelt pleading, she refused to budge. I sighed with frustration. “How can you say that? After all we’ve been through? Tamara, you're my best friend. I love you. I just can’t live this way anymore.” My lips and hands were numb from trembling.

Tamara had a comeback for everything. “Well, you think you’re bad-off now, just wait until you tell. You’re going to make everything worse.”


Tamara was right. Just five days later, I wanted to kill myself. I chose to tell the truth, and all that came back at me were accusations. Wishing I could curl up as tight as the knot in my stomach, I sobbed on my bed. Alone. My foster parents didn’t believe me, and my best friend had abandoned me. Once again, I was an outcast. And the jerk gets off the hook. Of course he does, he coaches the winning volleyball team in the state. "So much for the truth setting me free."

Over the next several months, I survived while Tamara thrived. I quit the volleyball team. Tamara became captain. My grades went down. Hers went up. I was the school freak. She was the Homecoming queen candidate. She had dared to keep the secret, while I'd opted to tell the truth, and it was obvious that her dare had trumped the truth.

It was double the pain.

My loneliness led me back to the one place where, years before, I had felt accepted: my youth group. Completely broken, I felt I had nothing to lose. “I have a prayer request,” I squeaked. There I was, asking for something when I had ignored multiple attempts by different members of the group to befriend me in the past.

They, without hesitation, surrounded me. As warm hands touched my shoulders, my arms and my sides, one of my peers prayed, “Lord, give Sandy your strength. Keep her close to You. And Lord, please untangle the mess of this whole situation.” Near strangers shed tears with me, and none of us could have been more shocked with the moments following.

“Hey everyone. Everyone, could I ask you to listen to Jaimee for a minute? She has something to say,” our youth group leader announced.

Waves of “Sure,” “Absolutely,” “Of course,” rippled through the air before thick silence consumed the room.

Jaimee, who I had always considered a self-assured person, looked horribly unsure of her decision to speak. Several brave swallows later, her words tumbled out clumsily. “I—I—Ohh.…” She looked down at her sneakers, stole a deep breath and said, “I need to tell you all that I was also harassed by Coach Daniels. I just never had the courage to tell anyone. Until now…and I know there have been several others—at least.” A bright blue mascara trail streamed down her cheeks.

I couldn’t breathe. Then the thought occurred to me. That’s why she quit the team last year. It had nothing to do with her grades. Then, several others? Could it be true?

All of us gathered round Jaimee the same way everyone had surrounded me earlier. This time, I prayed. Right in front of her, I grabbed both of her clammy hands and prayed the best I knew how. “Oh God, thank you for Jaimee. Thank you, that even knowing how much it may cost her, she has dared to tell the truth. And Lord, may the truth bring peace—and—freedom. For both of us." And for Tamara too, Lord, I prayed silently from the depth of love I still had for her in my heart.

As I opened my eyes after the final Amen, I couldn’t help but notice the cross necklace Jaimee wore. It didn’t have a single knot. I dare say, how ironic.


Reference: John 8:32




In the Key of HE,

Tangled Reflections

Yvonne at My Back Door is hosting Fiction Fridays today, so hop on over there for more great fiction.

The bathroom mirror reflected more than outward appearances that day. Nancy’s grim face was lined with frustration, and her eight-year-old daughter was shrieking with anger.

“Moooooom, You’re hurrrrrrrrting my head! STOP!” Splotchy patches of pink covered Melissa’s tear-stained face.

“I’ve told you a hundred times to comb your hair every day, Missy.” Nancy’s biting continued. “These are your consequences. When you don’t comb your hair out, it gets tangles. Then when you do try to comb your hair out, it hurts. It’s as simple as that.” She couldn’t help patterning the strokes of the hairbrush after the rhythm of her nagging tone.

“OUCH, not so hard, Mom. It hurrrts.”

Her shrill sobbing sent a twinge of pain through Nancy’s forehead. “Yeah, well it hurts me when you don’t obey me. Your room is a mess. The house is a mess. YOU’RE a mess.”

Having had enough of her mom’s condescending tone and painful grooming, Melissa shouted, “FINE, then give me the brush and I’LL fix it.” She yanked angrily away from her mother and grabbed the sweaty hairbrush from her.

“Go ahead, you do that!” Nancy slammed the bathroom door behind in a huff.

I’m so sick of the whining. Doesn’t she know how much that grates on my nerves? Nancy grabbed a wet towel off the floor and started up again. “Wrinkled wet towels get moldy, you know.”

As she stomped through Missy’s messy room, she stepped on a sharp Lego. “ow, Ow, OW!” She could still hear her daughter sobbing behind the closed door as she hopped on one foot through the hallway.

Why do I even bother? “NOBODY helps me around here, and I’m just so sick of all the mess. PLEASE STOP CRYING.”

“I hate it when you’re frustrated! Why can’t you just be patient?” Melissa lashed out at her mother loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear.

Even through the walls, Melissa’s tantrum sent waves of frustration through Nancy’s body. She put her hands over her ears and proceeded to the kitchen. “Better start getting supper ready. Who even cares that I haven’t had a chance to clean up from lunch yet?” She slammed a pot down on the stove burner. “No ONE. That’s what I thought.”

She looked out her kitchen window and noticed a hummingbird outside as she washed her hands. Her stained-glass sun catcher reflected a convicting message: 'And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:7.'

All of a sudden, she noticed the house was totally silent. Oh, thank goodness, she’s finally quit crying. "I’m so sorry, Lord. Please help me to spread peace instead of anger.”

Nancy began to feel compassion for the small trauma that her daughter was experiencing and decided she would turn it into a teachable moment. I’m the mother. I’m supposed to be the calm one. Before she could get to her, the wailing had begun again.

“Ma-maaaaaa. Help!”

Nancy ran the rest of the way. When she opened the bathroom door and looked at her daughter in the mirror, she could not believe her eyes. Although her heart was racing, she kept a tender tone. “Sweetheart, what did you do?”

Little Melissa was standing in a pile of jet-black hair. She sniffled and whimpered in between words. “I—was--sooo—mad—at—you. I wanted to make you mad, but now…” She looked in the mirror again and started to yowl. “Now look at iiiiiit. I look like a weeeirrrrrdoooo.”

Scooping Melissa up in her arms, she overcame the horror she felt at the sight of her beautiful daughter’s hair. It was ruined beyond help. Melissa’s school scissors lay on the vanity surrounded by locks of tangled curly hair.

God, please help me work through this tangled mess I’ve made.

“Sweet Missy, I am so sorry for my anger,” Nancy whispered into her daughter’s hair-filled ears. As she noticed a near bald spot right above her ear, she kissed it tenderly. “Next time we’re mad at each other, Mommy will just stop and say a prayer, okay?”

Melissa whimpered. “I’m sorry, too. She dug her shagged hair into her mama’s neck. “I feel so ugly, Mama. Can we stop and pray now?”

Yes, the bathroom mirror reflected more than outward appearances that day. Nancy’s grim face was lined with regret, and her eight-year-old daughter was sobbing with sorrow. But the glorious reflection of God’s grace shone brightly through it all as they prayed.


*Scripture reference taken from the NIV.

In the Key of HE,

Sploshy Steps

Kristen over at Exemplify posted her monthly Monday Manna meme today. I couldn't resist this one, because it is part of the melody of my lifesong.

“The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly,
along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.”
1 Timothy 1:14, NIV

I love the way the Message puts it too...

"Grace mixed with faith and love poured over me and into me. And all because of Jesus."

The word that stands out to me is 'poured.' Picture being out on a walk, and all of a sudden, it starts to sprinkle. Random wet dots appear on your head and your clothing. But if it begins to pour, you're drenched all the way through your shoes...every sploshy step leaves the marks of your saturated state.

When I picture the grace of the Lord that way, it humbles me. I'm drenched with it. It has completely poured down and covered my stink. And because of who He is, each step I take leaves marks of His grace. Just as if I were to soak someone else with a big hug after coming out of the rainstorm, so I will drench others with Him as I touch their lives with love. With each trial and struggle I walk through stemming from the faith He's given me, so the faith of others can be strengthened.

He desires us to live this saturated life, and we can do so as we fill up on Him.

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

Lord, I can't thank You enough for pouring out your grace, faith and love. Please keep me soaked in it as I walk through this life. Help me not to trust in anything or anyone other than You to provide rich, abundant life. Be my everything, Lord, and may everyone I touch experience more of You as a result. In Jesus' name, Amen.

In the Key of HE,

Blurry-Eyed Morning

My youngest daughter rushed down the stairs to the beat of her fear. She simply could not sleep with the “thunder booming and lightning bolts.” It was almost time for her to get up and get ready for Vacation Bible School anyway, but I hadn’t finished my prayer time yet. It was interrupted by a barrage of questions from her little mind instead.

“Mom, what if lighting struck our whole house? Where would we live?”

“Well, Sweetie, we would go to a hotel or a friend’s house until it was fixed.”

“What if it caught the house on fire?”

“Then we would be very sad, but we would find another house to live in.”

“What if the lightning hit our computer?”

“Well…we’d replace it.”

“NO! But, Mom, that’s where all our money is!”

I couldn’t help but giggle over that one. “Oh no, darlin’, our money’s in the bank.”

“No, it’s not. It’s in the computer. Daddy showed me. I have seven dollars and seventy-three cents left.”

We went round and round, but she stood fully convinced that her allowance is kept in the computer, because “she saw the money in there.” I lifted her petite frame and hugged her close. Her lack of comprehension endeared me to her.

* * * * *

It’s no coincidence that only moments before, I was having a “Who, What, When, Where, Why” session with my Heavenly Father. How creative of Him to answer my questions through the questions of my eight-year-old.

The answer is that I can’t see life through His grid. It’s a simple Truth, but I need constant reminding with my in-the-moment, literal-thinking brain.

“My thoughts are nothing like your thoughts,” says the LORD.
“And my ways are far beyond anything you could imagine.
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 55:8-9 (New Living Translation)

When I get to the end of what I can see through the faith He’s given me, I can count on Him to scoop me up tenderly, all the while whispering “I’m in control. Trust me.” And I feel quite certain that my lack of comprehension endears me to Him just like my Ally’s did to me.

I look forward to the day when I fully get it. I like to call it my 1 Corinthians 13:12 day:

Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

Until that day, I’ll choose to trust in what He sees, walking by faith and not by my blurry sight.