Four Questions to Ask When Complacency Calls @Christianity Today’s Women Leaders

My husband recently teased, “What are you freedom fighting this week?” I snickered, because we both know how my empathetic tendencies get ignited when bedlam wreaks havoc on our broken world, and within the people to which we minister. I want to always be ready to battle for hurting people while pointing them to the God who heals. But too often lately, I find myself struggling to find a place to stand. The politicking, protesting, and terrorizing has just become too much; I am tempted to retreat. Apathy seems like the safest option when day after day our people and world are reeling from the latest disaster, but the desire to hide emotionally is a dangerous state to dwell in especially when trying to lead, counsel, and encourage others. Unfortunately, I feel it pulsing through me with each heartbeat.

I joke about our first world problems as hashtags trend about the latest atrocity and navigate away from Twitter, clicking my way to the more serene Instagram. I catch myself scrolling away from the links, and sometimes Scripture that promise to challenge, because I am seeking the lies of ignorance’s bliss. All of this indicates to me that the time has come, again, to fight for my own soul. I lift my heavy head, taking my eyes off myself and fixing them on Jesus who offers rest to the weary soul (Matthew 11:28–30).

I know I am not alone in my temptation to be complacent and turn inward even while living outwardly in ministry, but I must be willing to take a personal inventory of what is making the shadows of comfort so alluring. These four questions help with self-assessment.

Am I Embracing the Loveliness of Lament?

When the news is filled with horror and tragedy, the leader in me impulsively turns to crafting words in an attempt to make sense of things. But I find it is often not my words that are needed, but my broken heart. This frequently shocks me silent; emotions swell high, and the flood leaves me quiet.

I have to learn to lament, and let go of the pressure to always guide. If I cannot listen, learn, and lean into the depth of the hurt, how will I ever help? Would I really risk being so arrogant that I would attempt telling people how to fix their problems without first trying to understand them? Coming alongside others means I must be willing to mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15).

I cannot be afraid to vulnerably experience how shared sorrow makes us stronger, and I cannot ignore the fright woven into this fallen world. As Esther Fleece says, “Lamenting is an essential spiritual discipline that we cannot forsake on this side of the Fall, because it offers us a way to keep the conversation going with the only One who can save us when life gets hard.”…

…Keep reading at Christianity Today’s Women Leaders

Extraordinary Life Isn’t Found in Carpe Diem @ (in)courage

My high school English teacher showed Dead Poets Society at the end of every fall semester. As trees grew bare, Robin Williams inspired our impressionable young minds as John Keating by getting on top of his desk, reciting poetry, and encouraging his students to write their verse. My worldview shifted, though not for the better, when Keating pulled his class out into the hall to look at photos of generations past and remind them of the fragility of life.

“Carpe . . . carpe diem,” Keating whispered. “Seize the day, boys. Make your lives extraordinary.”

Yes! Yes! Something awoke within me. Let us make our lives extraordinary!

I ran with it — full tilt; Carpe Diem felt like the key to unlocking all my dreams. I felt like a philosophical genius pulling this Latin phrase out as my life motto, its sophistication far outweighing that of today’s YOLO declarations.

I let carpe diem guide my steps for years and learned the hard way that while the phrase works as a momentary encouragement or a yearbook quote, as a way of life, it fails.

If we jump, move, and boldly pursue whatever we crave because tomorrow we may die, we sacrifice wisdom for desire. The urgency of the moment hijacks our tomorrows, and though another day is not guaranteed, chances are it will come….

Continue Reading at (in)courage…

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I Will Not Fear the Election This November

My husband and I recently escaped cloud-covered Oregon for a quick anniversary trip to the middle of the desert. We had plans to stay in Las Vegas, with a day’s trip to the Grand Canyon. In the middle of the dry and the desolate, man has crafted a place where lights and golden-gilding cover luxurious arch ways ushering people into glossy portrayals of Dante’s nine circles.

In timeless, windowless, oxygen-infused casinos where multisensory stimulation waits around every corner, it is easy to forget both sun and moon, and just keep going, eyes wide, watching the continuous show. One night, we stepped out onto the Stratosphere’s balcony and took the whole scene in from a bird’s eye view. Standing tall in the skyline among the other pleasure palaces was a white and gold tower with one of the two leading Presidential candidates emblazoned upon it. We watched as a bungee jumper took her place on a platform and threw herself off the side of Vegas’ highest tower, trusting that the cords would do their job….Read more at Venn Magazine.