1 Corinthians 13:6

1 Corinthians 13:6

1 John 3:18

1 John 3:18

A Call to Be Brave

Brave: To show courage; willingness to face and endure danger or pain; acting fearlessly.

As I see it, being brave looks quite different now that it did before I was a Christian. Confident, independent, leader, strong–these all would have been words I would’ve used before to describe myself, and I would’ve used these descriptions interchangeably with the word brave. But, self-confidence and self-assurance are not brave at all. I know this now. Being brave is a choice. A willingness to face danger or pain, as I first stated. The danger of risk and loss, heartache and uncertainty. Bravery brings growth and depth to our personal character. It’s where we find out what we’re made of. We discover what we truly believe about ourselves. As a Christian, it’s where I put my faith to the test. Are my eyes on Jesus, the bravest Man to ever walk this earth? Or will I look to myself and try to navigate being brave in my own strength, which–I will learn–is impossible without God? Without God, I cannot be brave and I cannot be fearless. Some may argue this point, but it is what I know to be true. Bravery comes from our Creator…period. And, it is ours to choose.

Recently, God called me to be brave for His truth and His love for someone in my family. My sister has lived in darkness all her life–almost fifty years now. It has caused deep heartache for all the family, including my sister and her own family. A deep entrapment of sin, lies and hypocrisy. I had first approached my one-and-only sibling with God’s truth over sixteen years ago. But, I did it in great condemnation and judgement and certainly not in true love. I thought I was being brave then, but it was in my own selfishness and pride. Thank goodness God convicted me of my sin, and I soon asked for forgiveness. I was a new and zealous Christian, for sure thinking I was being brave for Christ. But, it was about me then. I would not move again unless I knew for sure God was calling.

About six years later, I was given another opportunity to share God’s truth and love with her again. God’s grace and redemption at work! It
would seem that “nothing” came out of that time, but I know God uses everything! We would carry on our years of an estranged relationship, years of watching the destruction of family and the loss of what could have been. A lot of heartache and pain for all of us. I have been referred to as crazy, hateful, self-righteous. fake and a liar…all for the sake of Christ. Needless to say, these words hurt when a loved one says these things and believes them about you.

Then, God said, “It’s time to be brave again. I am with you and I am for you. Your sister is too valuable not to share my love and truth with her once more.” It had been ten years since I’d spoken God’s truth and love to my sister. I knew the time was presenting itself. I prayed and asked God to help me and give me His words. Help me be brave once more!! It was a choice I had to make, and I chose to be brave no matter what the outcome would be yet again. Our family had been living in silence to her sin and looking away. Funny how when the boat wasn’t rocked intermittent encounters over the years would be good. Satan is a big fat liar! And so, ju
st recently, being filled with the Holy Spirit, I spoke God’s truth and love for my sister. And once again, I was met with accusations and a loathing hatred of the truth and love. After all, my poor sister has been under a cloud of darkness for so long now, Satan surely isn’t going to let go without a great fight! Again, I was called names and ridiculed.

But, it’s okay. This is not my fight. This is God’s fight. Every accusation and snicker is worth it because I know I was obedient to my Father. I’m willing to face the pain of a broken relationship and the belief my sister has that my heart is impure and cold. Satan wants me to believe I’ve misrepresented Christ, the very One who set me free from my own sin seventeen years ago. But, I belong to Christ. He is my Shepherd. I hear His voice. He called me to be brave, and I said yes! I chose to be brave because I trust the One who called me. He is the Captain of the Lord’s Army, and His banner over me is love!

It takes great bravery to show great love, and it’s always worth it in the end. I believe that 100%. After all, it’s what Jesus did when He faced the cross for us. It’s been five months since I took that step of bravery. I can tell you that God is allowing us to see His work at hand. I will continue to pray for the miracle of grace and salvation and be watching and waiting when He calls on me again.

_____________________________________

Due to the personal nature of this week’s Brave story, the author has chosen to remain anonymous.

Moral Excellence – Applying Qualities

Hello friends! Welcome back to Weekly Challenge! We’re talking about Applying Qualities right now and today’s topic is moral excellence. Being excellent morally is more than simply doing good things, it’s avoiding bad things. It’s dwelling on righteous and casting out unrighteous. It’s a big, huge, all encompassing type of character trait. It’s sort of overwhelming for me to ponder.

Anyways, last week we talked about diligence. Your challenge was to set a large puzzle. For some of you, this may have been easy but in my house, puzzle + toddler + cats = unfinished puzzle. Tell me how you did with last week’s challenge in the comments below. If you happen to have a picture, I’d love to see it! As always, feel free to print the cards for your personal use. Remember to post this week’s verse in a location you’ll see daily!

Topic:
Moral Excellence

Definition:
N. the quality of doing what is right and avoiding what is wrong

Scripture:
Philippians 4:8 Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

Challenge:
Spend 10 minutes away from distractions to think about good things.
Continue to memorize 2 Peter 1:5-8

Feel free to print for personal use

Thursday Stories

Merry Christmas! Today is Thursday which means it’s story time! Today’s writer is Ora Linville. This lady is one of the bravest people I know. I hope you are as encouraged by her story as I am!

Stories from San Antonio

Bravery. This is a word that I have heard so much in the past six months. Before that, it was a word that I never really thought much about. Thanks to the MOPS, International theme for 2014-2015, “Be You, Bravely,” I have had a lot of time to consider the topic of bravery.

Those of you who know and see me on a regular basis know that I have blue hair. Seriously. I decided to put the blue streaks in in early September. I have received a lot of comments from friends and strangers alike. Some of the comments are something like, “wow!! that’s so brave!” I think I have even said, “Oh, you know, just ‘Being me, Bravely!'” However, if I’m being honest, I don’t really think that was an act of bravery for me. Gutsy, maybe, but not really brave. Perhaps letting my gray hair come in without constantly covering it up would be more brave. But, seriously, I’m only 35 – I have plenty of time to bravely embrace my gray hair!

Some would define bravery as an absence of fear. When we think of bravery, we often think of the super heroes that we grew up watching. Not only do I think this is a wrong idea of what bravery is, I think it is dangerous. The truth is that we all face fear – the types and levels of fear are different for each of us, but it is something we all deal with in this life. Fear is often a good thing, and not usually something that we need to rid ourselves of in order to be brave.

As I have been thinking more about what bravery means for me, I’m coming to the conclusion that bravery can be seen in graciously living the life God has entrusted to me regardless of whether or not it has turned out the way I had envisioned it.

As all girls do, I spent much of my childhood dreaming of what my adult life would look like: A big house that cleaned itself (those would be invented by the time I was an adult, I was sure of it), a gorgeous husband who practically worshiped me, and two perfectly behaved children who never got dirty. No financial issues, no pain, no fears. In my mind, life was going to be perfect. I won’t say that I went into marriage with the same delusions of perfection, but I did have certain expectations as I buttoned up the white dress and slipped into my beaded white shoes. I was about to walk down the aisle and commit myself to one man for the rest of my life. We would exchange vows with the promise to love, honor and cherish each other until death do us part.

Little did I realize that my soon-to-be husband had expectations of what I would be as his wife, expectations that he did not share with me until after we started settling in to life together. I moved from Texas to North Carolina right after the wedding – away from my family, my friends, my church, and really my whole life. I didn’t question it. I was a wife, and this is what a wife does for her husband. As I settled in, I noticed some little things here and there that seemed odd – he did not like me having friends outside his sphere of influence, he would not let me join Bible Study Fellowship or any other study that wasn’t done at his church, he expected me to call his mother “Mom” because “she’s your mom now.” I also noticed that any time I brought up a theological concern, he would halt conversation with, “I’m your husband and the head of this house, so this is what we will believe.” This was in stark contrast to the many theological discussions we had before marriage. He went from my sweet, caring fiance to a hard and calloused husband almost overnight. Over the course of a few short months, I learned to not open my mouth and to just internalize every hateful thing that was said about me, my faith, or my family back in Texas.

About one year into our marriage, we traveled back to Texas to visit family. My family and friends did not recognize the person I had become. Before marriage, I was happy – I smiled, I laughed, and I had a sparkle in my eye. The woman that came back to visit was extremely quiet, looked down constantly, made an innocent joke and then quickly apologized to her husband for making it, and had little life in her at all. I will forever be thankful to my family and dear friends who pulled me aside, shared their concerns with me, and asked me what was really going on. They helped me see that I was being broken down through the hateful words and unreasonable restrictions.

I went back to North Carolina with many people praying for me. . I prayed that God would soften the heart of my husband. I truly believed that God’s will would include the healing of my broken marriage. I knew that I didn’t go into the marriage lightly. I was in this for life. Things didn’t get easier. Having had my eyes opened to the emotional and spiritual abuse that I was dealing with, I was able to resist the arrows of hate that were constantly launched at me. This resistance was met with more anger from my husband and his family. On June 4th, 2007, my husband came home from work particularly angry. He ate his dinner in silence and then started letting me know all the ways I had disappointed him that day. I remember standing up and telling him that I would not take the abuse any longer. He then started throwing anything he could get his hands on. Knowing that physical abuse would likely follow if I remained in the house, I packed a few things I would need overnight and walked out.

I. Walked. Out. This wasn’t what I wanted. This wasn’t what I had prayed for. This wasn’t how my life was suppose to go. I didn’t know what was going to happen next. However, I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was the right thing to do, and I stand behind that decision to this day. By March 2008, I was divorced. Divorced! As a young girl and even a newly-wed, I never could have imagined myself divorced.

I was scared out of my mind and I still did the brave thing when I walked out. God didn’t plan for me to stay married to my first husband – God had much bigger plans for me. I am so thankful that God’s ways are not always our ways! If things had gone my way, I would not be married to Michael today and I would not have my two precious children. I wish I could tell you that I have this brave thing all figured out and if you do x, y, and z, you’ll master it too. I still struggle with trust and bravery on a daily basis. Things rarely go the way I expect them to. Being brave is a process and the biggest step I can take is to give God the reigns every day and let Him drive. Maybe, just maybe I’m on my way to accepting my gray hair after all.

Thursday Stories

Hello all! It’s time for Thursday Stories again! We missed last week but the next couple of months are being prepped as you read this! Today’s brave story made a couple of tears leak out of my eyes. It is still very painful to recall my recent miscarriages. Thank you, Christy for sharing bravely! You can read her blog at butterbeesandbumbleflies.com

Stories from San Antonio

Being brave in Christ isn’t the easiest task I’ve ever been faced with. But what I have learned through being brave in Christ is that speaking (and writing) what I’m going through is incredibly healing. And that it brings life to those around me who may not have realized something vitally important – we are not alone. No man (or woman!) is an island. We CAN be found. God IS for us. And if He is for us, WHO can be against us?

 

Aly has taught me more about speaking up and sharing than she probably knows. Because just a couple of short months after I had Grayson, she had her first, and then second miscarriages. Though she carried each for a different amount of time than I carried our two angels, we have that pain in common.

 

Miscarriage is NOT something people speak boldly and bravely about. Women don’t typically come out and say, “hi, my name is Christy, I have had four pregnancies and two of my children are in Heaven.” No, miscarriage is something you don’t usually hear about until you go through it, and share with close friends. And then you start finding out how many people have been there before.

 

I really struggled emotionally. I leaned HEAVILY on my Bible study group, and on God. I questioned Him. I screamed at Him – both inside and out. I raved like a lunatic. And then, I learned to hope again. And then He took my third baby. I questioned Him. I screamed at Him – both inside and out. I raved like a lunatic – HOW ON EARTH could he take TWO babies away from me? Wasn’t it surely part of His plan to give us more than one earthly child? Hadn’t HE been the one to place this desire for multiple children in our hearts? WHY was He taking them away?

 

And then, I finally dared to hope again. We began to live our lives. And one day I very timidly took a test. And then we saw the flashing light of a beating heart on the monitor. And then we made it to 12 weeks. And then to 16. And it was a boy!! And then we made it the agonizingly long wait to 36 and he was kicking and growing and moving like a crazy man. We saw that all of his organs were perfect, and we breathed a sigh of relief. And then he arrived. Now, he’s six months old. It’s been a year and a month since our second baby would have been born. It’s been almost eleven months since our third baby would have been born.

 

And God has given me perspective. He has told me that He has great plans for Grayson’s life. THIS is the child we were meant to have on Earth. And THOSE are the children we lost for a purpose. Their short little microscopic lives HAVE PURPOSE. And meaning. They are not meant to be hidden away in the confines of a Mother and Father’s hearts. No, they are meant to be shared. I am meant to speak bravely and boldly. I’m supposed to tell them about my babies, and to give them the strength to be bold and share about theirs.

 

My grandmother lost three babies before she had my mom. But she didn’t give up. And I’m so very glad. Because if she had let one or two, or even all three miscarriages scare her away from trying desperately to have another healthy child, my mom, and subsequently me, and my children, would never have been born. Miscarriage is tough. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever been through in my life – twice. But it is NOT the end. And I’m so very glad every time I snuggle of my precious little boy, that we didn’t give up.

 

It’s my job to be a light and an encouragement to others. Miscarriage is NOT easy. The scars on a mother’s heart NEVER go away. But time can heal the pain, and provide perspective. I pray I’m always brave enough and bold enough to help others see His love – even through the tears that fall.

 

God, make me brave. Give me the words. And help me to always use them for Your Glory, and to encourage others.

The Baby

It has been a long time since I’ve posted on here. I didn’t know what to say to you. I still don’t, but I’m going to try. I am striving to be brave, so here’s my messy, ugly story that I’m going to share with you, bravely.

During worship on Wednesday night, a song played that I couldn’t sing: “You Never Let Go” by Matt Redman. I felt like God had let go of me and let go of my baby and I just… I couldn’t sing. I left instead. See, this song says that even in the trials, even in the depths of despair, the Lord is right beside me, which is absolutely true and absolutely based on Scripture. The song is actually dripping with truth, but in that tender, vulnerable, broken moment, I couldn’t believe one word of the song. I knew all these things to be true in my head, but my heart and my vocal chords could not honestly say, “still I will praise you.” I was angry with God and definitely not in a worshipful place. I couldn’t sing.

I had a miscarriage. Second one this year. I have two babies, Leonard and Sam, that I will not get to see this side of Heaven. I cry every single day because my heart is broken into a million gazillion pieces. I lost Sam a week ago, and I don’t know what to do with myself. I am more sad than I ever thought possible. Trying to move through the grieving process feels like I’ve fallen into quicksand and there is no way out.

So here’s what I’m going to do: I’m going to unsheathe my sword and fight back against all the lies that are bombarding me. Because God really never lets go, and I need to believe that again. All of my swords today are from Isaiah 40.

LIE: I’m not important enough, good enough, faithful enough to have a
big family like I’ve always dreamed about.
TRUTH: He is gently leading me, and I am close to the Lord’s heart.

¹¹ He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.

LIE: My heart will never heal.
TRUTH: The Lord will renew my strength. My strength must
come from Him because alone, I will grow weary.

²⁹ He gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
³⁰ Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
³¹ but those who hope in the Lord
will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

LIE: God didn’t protect Leonard or Sam.
TRUTH: God has the whole world in His hands and that includes my children.

¹² Who has measured the waters in the hollow of his hand,
or with the breadth of his hand marked off the heavens?
Who has held the dust of the earth in a basket,
or weighed the mountains on the scales
and the hills in a balance?

LIE: Miscarriages happen because God
is not fully in control of this life.
TRUTH: God is the Creator, and His ways are
beyond my wildest imaginations.

²⁸ Do you not know?
Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
and his understanding no one can fathom.

Isaiah 40 is now posted next to my mirror in my bathroom. When I cry, I go to the bathroom to wash my face and get a tissue, so I figure this is the best place for it. Next time I cry, I will need to read these words again.

On to Madagascar things! After we found out we were pregnant with Sam, we prayed about when the trip should be and came to the conclusion that it would wait until after the baby was born and after I was done nursing. That put us in the summer of 2016. Several factors went into this decision. First, I prayed and prayed and was certain that was what God was telling me. Second, my hubby wasn’t comfortable with me flying around the world pregnant, and if he’s not behind me on any ministry I want to be a part of, I don’t do it. Third, Domoina preferred later rather than earlier. Her daughter is taking a major exam around the same time I was planning to travel, and she would like that time to spend with her daughter preparing for that test. Finally, the funds just weren’t there. Going sooner meant I needed the money  yesterday. So we settled on later rather than sooner with the clause that if God abundantly and clearly provided a way to go in the spring, I would leap at it and go.

But now we’re not pregnant. So, when will I be going to the ends of the earth? Well, I don’t know but here’s my current plan. When God provides the funds, I will go. I’m not going to pick a date. I’m not going to plan a thing. I will wait on the Lord. I will wait until God provides another baby for us, if that’s His will. I have three babies, and I’ve only had the opportunity to hold one of them. I am so incredibly grateful to snuggle with Amelia daily. She is amazing, and I am blessed. I will wait until God provides the funds for Madagascar. I cannot go unless God sends the money, maybe through you! If you would like to see God use your resources in Madagascar, you can donate to my Indigogo campaign. I will wait until God provides because the Lord is the Provider.

Ends of the earth, here I come! (When God provides)

P.S. I’ve been listening to You Never Let Go on repeat while writing this. I can sing it honestly, now. I will still praise Him even though I am in the valley.