leave room

 I know I share it every year when I flip my dilapidated copy of My Utmost for His Highest  to January 25th. I'm sharing it again..."Leave Room for God".

Do not look for God to come in a particular way,

but do look for Him.

The way to make room for Him 

is to expect Him to come,

but not in a certain way.

No matter how well we may know God,

the great lesson to learn is that

He may break in at any minute. 

Keep your life so constantly in touch with God

that His surprising power 

can break through at any point.

Live in a constant state of expectancy, 

and leave room for God to come in as He decides.

If it speaks to me every year, I guess I'm wondering why. And I think it's that I forget to be looking for Him.  I get to serving Him and working for Him and trying to love Him...and forget to leave ROOM for Him. forget to be seeing HIS ways...HIS places...HIS leading. 

Everything wasn't easier in Haiti, but that was. Poverty was always shocking me.  Unfixable NEED had me constantly looking for Him, needing Him. Crazy cultural experiences and confusions had me always looking for Him to break through, and I was so at a loss so often that there was room for HIm. 

I've pretty well got it worked out here, and with 43 years under my belt, 20 of them in full-time ministry. Most of the work, I can do and have done a million times. Most of the experiences, I have navigated. And it gets crowded...my mind, the calendar, the spaces...and I forget to look for Him.

Or I look for Him only in a specific way.

MAN do I want to be living a life that leaves room for God to come in as He decides, living in a constant state of expectancy.  

As much as we hate the hard seasons...they ARE the ones where we make the most room...where we go looking for Him, where we don't care how He comes, just THAT.  Just that He comes.

Lord, give us that kind of hunger, that kind of perspective...and in our families, in our churches, in our communities, may your surprising power break through.

sermon link

 If you're looking for some good teaching, Matt is a GOOD teacher...here is the link to some of his last sermons and here to some recent Bible studies, in case you're hungry for more and deeper and not finding it currently. 

Having Wednesday night Bible study, Tuesday night small group Bible study, Sunday mornings...I'm in a season of so much good teaching...it feels like I've always got something the Lord is working on or speaking to! 

It waters all the needs and service and ministry that church also includes....working on kid's curriculum and crafts, teaching toddler Sunday school, practicing for the Sundays I play piano, cooking for surgeries and sickness, hosting small group, helping feed the church family Wednesday nights, weekly prayer meetings, volunteer meetings, and backing up my number 2. 

His Word feeds me and reminds me why...and how...and what.

For all that feels required...He simply requires a heart after His...clean hands, pure heart. 

For all that is stretching, He offers what to let go, what to trust Him with, what to carry lighter. 

For all that could be consuming, His Word consumes first, and leaves the rest dim.

I never want to teach it, pray it, serve it, live it or share it so much that I neglect dwelling in His Word and eating and drinking from it. Never want to get caught serving Him and lose abiding in Him. Never want to have a full ministry calendar and miss HIM. 

and other random thoughts :)

Psalm 107

It's been a long week kicking off the new school year with Matt out of state, Sofie starting at Lily, Hannah and Ava's school, several sick kids and now a sick mama.  Dad's widow, Cindy, came to spend a few days with us and it had been too long! I definitely fell asleep on the couch last night at 7 pm with coughing kids on every side.

But Monday the Lord encouraged me with a Psalm I haven't noticed in this way before... Let the Redeemed of the Lord Say So.

Every single one of us is covered here. 

Give thanks to the Lord

for He is good

His steadfast love endures forever!

Let the redeemed of the Lord say so,

whom He has redeemed from trouble

and gathered from the east, west, north and south.

Now look through the rest of the Psalm, as this faithful declaration of God repeats again and again.

Some wandered in desert wastes

hungry and thirsty

they cried to the Lord,

He delivered them, 

led them by a straight way

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love

He satisfies the longing soul,

and the hungry should He fills with good things.

Was/Is that you? Wandering? Desert? Hungry?  He satisfies.

Some sat in darkness and in the shadow of death

prisoners in affliction and irons

rebelling against the words of the Lord

spurning the counsel of the Most High.

So He bowed their hearts with hard labor

they fell down, with none to help

Then, they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

He delivered them from their distress.

He brought them OUT of the darkness and the shadow of death,

He burst their bonds apart.

Let them thank the lord for their steadfast love,

for His wonders to the children of man.

Was/Is that you? Sitting in such darkness? Hard, stubborn, imprisoned, rebellious? When they finally cry out to Him, He brings them out and breaks them free!

Some were fools through their sinful ways,

and because of it they suffered afliction

they loathed any kind of food

drew near to the gates of death

But when they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

He delivered them.

He sent out his word and healed them,

and delivered them from their own destruction.

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,

for His wondrous works to the children of man.

Was/Is that you? Foolish? Suffering the consequences of it, extended His goodness again and again and not interested? But when you finally looked up, He met you with His gracious healing?

Some went down to the sea in ships,

doing business on the great waters

they saw the deeds of the Lord

they saw His wondrous works in the deep

they mounted up to heaven and went down to the depths

they reeled and staggered like drunken men

and were finally at their wits end

then they cried to the Lord in their trouble,

and He delivered them from their distress.

He made the storm be still,

and the waves of the sea were hushed.

they were glad at the quiet waters,

and He brought them to their desired haven.

Let them thank the Lord for his steadfast love,

and His wondrous works to the children of man.

Has this been you? Busy? Living your life, chasing your dreams, doing it all...and not ever at peace? Finally at your wits end? He brings calm to all the storms and finally brings us to the desire of our hearts...Himself.

Every person I am praying for, every place I have been...is in this Psalm. And never does it say, "Finally they cried out to the Lord, and He let them lay in the bed they made." I am just in awe of His goodness to us, His care, His eye upon us, and the way He works wondrously with the children of man. My hope in Him over those I am praying for is strengthened.  

Whoever is wise...let them consider the steadfast love of the Lord.

prayers and fragrance

A few days ago, a dear life-long family friend collapsed and yesterday he died. 

Carl and Mary and Mom and Dad were best friends well before us kids, and there's never been a time in my life we didn't have Carl and Mary in it. They raised us all doing life together, and every camping adventure I've ever done has been with them. Their young son died in his sleep...and then Mom, on Mary's birthday, and then Dad, and now Carl. 

If you've seen me in the last few days, you're thinking I didn't mention it, and I have not. I can't quite find  my voice. 

But this morning, New Year's Day, bright and early, I drove Lily and Leah to a church we've never been to in a town we've never been to. They are off to Passion Conference with Louie Giglio and David Crowder and Jackie Hill Perry and Kari Jobe and 65,000 18-25 year olds....and a friend of a friend youth pastor.  Some brave girls, these two! 

As I was driving home in the chilly sunshine, I was praying for Lily, turning 17 tomorrow in some stadium in Texas worshiping the Lord with a multitude of young people. As I drove I was praying, praying for this generation, praying the Lord would minister to their hearts. Praying for my girl. 

"Lord, I'm trusting You with her!" I warned. 

I instantly heard Him laugh at me. 

She is mine. It is I who is entrusting you!

Yes. 

Yes, Lord.

And without meaning to, my prayers choked in my throat and turned to the heaviness.

But Lord. Dear Mary and Liz, Lord. Lord, dear Carl. 

No words. 

It is Carl who is mine. All these people you love are just ahead at my throne, it is I who is entrusting you. 

Heaven is so close. His throne is so close. These days are so borrowed and limited and numbered. 

I'm starting this new year catching the fragrance of heaven.

And unlike here...there are no traces of bitter in the smell. Only sweet.

When we think seriously about what it will cost us and others if we obey the call of Jesus, 

we tell God He doesn't know what our obedience will mean. 

Keep to the point--He does know. 

Shut out every other thought and keep yourself before God in this one thing only--

our utmost for His Highest. 

Are we determined to be absolutely and entirely for Him and Him alone?

love has come

I knew this past Sunday was going to be a big one because the Wellspring Kids I've been stretched, blessed and humbled to lead the past months had their big song and dance number! It was also the last Sunday of advent, and Matt had a million plates spinning. 

I was NOT expecting it to be a big one because the Lord was going to confront me. Shift me. Show me. 

Not five minutes in, after the lighting of the love candle, our friend Charlie got on stage to share a short testimony about love. 

He shared a story of a time he was driving to Home of Grace to volunteer for a few days, a faith-based addiction recovery program a few hours from here we happen to have had several phone calls with the past two weeks. He had my attention. 

On his way there, having once been a hitchhiker himself, he stopped to pick up one. As he slowed down, he said he almost took off again, because the man he was planning to give a ride to looked terrifying. Dozens of piercings and tattoos covered his face, but Charlie was determined to help and let him in.  The man's appearance alone made it obvious to Charlie that he needed the Gospel! Urgently.

Charlie started in talking to him about Jesus and his need for a savior, preaching...and before long the hitchhiker stopped him. "I don't mean to be rude, but I'd rather walk the whole way to Panama City than listen to one more word about Jesus. Please let me out."

Lord, Charlie prayed, help me. I'm doing what I should have done before I ever opened my mouth to start preaching. You know this man, through and through. You see him. Tell me what to do.

Love him, Charlie clearly sensed.  

How in the world do I do that when I can't even talk about you? Charlie wondered, chatting with the man while he prayed and searching the Lord for wisdom.  As they drove and talked, Charlie asked what was in Panama City.

"Well," the man said, "I should have told you this when I got in. I have AIDS, and have been given six months to live. I've spent my whole life far from home and hurting my family, and when they told me I'm gonna die, I called my mama. She's 90 years old, lives in Panama City, and she said I could come home. So, I'm going home to die at the only place I can ever remember being happy."

That's how, the Lord clearly spoke to Charlie. Take him home.

Mind you. Home of Grace was a few hours away. Panama City? 20.  

Friends. Twenty hours drive to Eugene's mama's house in Panama City.

Well okay, Charlie said a million times quicker than I would have.

And he did.

No preaching, just talking, stopping at Waffle Houses and gas stations along the way, sharing their stories and their lives. Learning about unspeakable brokenness in Eugene's life. 

He finally got him to his mama's house. Before they got out, he handed Eugene a pamphlet he had with him of a short description of salvation and an example of a sinner's prayer.  

"I know you don't want to hear about Jesus," Charlie said, "but I believe if you read this and pray this prayer, He will meet you. And I KNOW that He loves you." 

He left it at that, met the man's mother, left his address in her hands and headed the 20 hours back home. 

Six months later, almost to the day, a letter came in the mail.

He didn't recognize the man in the photo, so put it aside as he read the letter.  

That mother he'd met in Panama City said that every day, again and again and again, Eugene had read that prayer. Memorized that prayer. Prayed that prayer. And over the course of the last six months of his life, Eugene began to change. 

The photo was of Eugene before he died, all the metal in his face replaced by light and joy, and a softness that made him almost unrecognizable to Charlie. 

By now, I had ugly tears running down my neck, and my babies weren't even up on stage yet singing and dancing for Jesus. 

"I guess Eugene's dancing in heaven, because the same love I've known from the Father, He helped me give Eugene."

love like that, pray like that, the Lord clearly impressed on me. 

I realized that while I have never stopped praying for certain people in my life and in the lives of others, it has often been with frustration. I have often prayed with irritation. Without hope. Often prayed with disgust or exhaustion or bitterness or anger or hopelessness.

And He wants us to pray with His LOVE. 

And I have often silently or not silently given direction. I have often known what others need to do. I have often shared and preached and pointed the Gospel. 

But I have NOT shared my life. I have often guarded my time, my family, my wishes, my agenda, my schedule, my safety, my comfort.  I have not exemplified crazy love over you're-driving-me-crazy or loving-like-this-is-crazy.

Maybe one day, there will be a man at Home of Grace with tattoos and piercings all over his face that many have prayed a million prayers for. 

As those candles burned bright...hope and joy and faith and LOVE, I was convicted deeply on my love looking a lot like Stacey's-biggest-heart-love and totally missing the mark of just my love looking like His.

Like the kind that left heaven to come down for Christmas. Like the kind that willingly headed to a cross. Like the kind that drives 40 hours.

Like His love and Mary's love that put Jesus not in his mama's arms...but in a feed box, wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger. 

Jesus, not for her, but for the world to COME and receive the gift God gave, Bread from Heaven, Living Bread, taste and see. 

Christmas, not for me. But a gift to give. A sacrifice to make. A love to live for people, not hold for them. 

And as I've shifted this past week in my thinking and prayers, there has been such unexpected freedom and joy. 

Eugene is with Jesus today because of how great the Father's love and sacrifice, and because Charlie was willing to sacrificially mirror it.  

How many souls eternal are healed and rejoicing because the Church loved like Jesus did? Because I did?

I love you...Don't Stop praying for your people...But pray with His love. 

Merry Christmas, dear ones.  

Come Let us Adore Him

 Sunday was the sweetest day.  I will always remember it as a day He made His richness known to me. When it was time for baptisms, some dear friends went before with powerful testimonies and decisions, and I am SO blessed to a part of His Church. When it was time for family to surround our children, I had family surround my children. Their friends came, and Lady Jane, Martin and Sharon, Hannah. When it was time for Ben and Nora to share their hearts, they pointed to Jesus. When it came time to baptize them, death and new life, having the pastor also be their dad was really special. 

It will go down in Stace-history as a very tangible seeing of Jesus and His great love for His children.

Sometimes at special family events, the gaps are so painful. But He had them packed so full of His goodness on Sunday, doing in my children and in people I care about things that only HE can do...I only felt and saw the richness.

It restored my hope for my brother. 

The VERY long time we have prayed for him is NOT a very long time for the Lord. It is just HIS time. And as long as there is air in his lungs, the Lord is pursing him and waiting for him to come home. If He can fill my gaps...He can fill ALL gaps. He is waiting, love in His eyes and peace in His hands, for my brother to come home. My prayers will never stop waiting with Him. 

Never stop praying for Lord to fill and restore the painful gaps in people's lives.  It is His best work. 

It is the work and rest of Christmas. 

Come let us adore Him.

prayers

 I am just barely keeping my head above water. I've got lots to reflect on and it's going to have to mostly happen later.

Two things: tomorrow Nora and Ben are being baptized along with a slew of other really special people, and at the last minute Martin and Sharon got on a plane to come and join us for that. Neighbors, dear friends, all are gathering around tomorrow, and I am so touched and blessed to have family come out of the woodworks, and also to have two passionate, independent kiddos saying they want to outward show their inside hearts for following Jesus. 

Imma be a mess.

Also, we are needing extra prayers for my brother. Many of you have been praying for a long time, some longer than I have. Please keep on.  I am praying that the current dark awfulness is setting the stage for answered prayers.  Lord, please come and honor the long-suffering prayers of my parents. 

I am thankful for you.

not well-enough alone.

Matt's mama was sick the whole time she was with us for Thanksgiving, and Matt got it hard the morning she left. Dear man has been out for the count this week...which didn't work as well as needed with so many things on the church calendar. A few he missed, a few he pushed and a few he preached (including just a powerful and sacred funeral!), and the Lord met us. 

As the whole family participated in different parts of the Madison Christmas Parade in the cold this morning, representing Wellspring Church and Jesus, the Lord reminded me that our weakness isn't to be avoided, despised or skipped.  It's often where He shows up...it's often where He is WAITING. 

If He's waiting in our hard places, I'm trying to stop avoiding them.  I'm trying to simply meet Jesus there.

There have been some hard anniversaries this season. Sometimes they hit you without you even expecting them, don't they? You're not even THINKING about the date and suddenly painful memories of it years past hit you...or memories of sweet things no more. One of them just about physically hit me in the face this morning, so clear I had to laugh out loud at the Lord, always working to redeem and heal our circumstances...never leaving well-enough alone like I wish He would.

Mind your business, I tried to tell Him.

I am, He reminded me better.

He's not after our well-enough, is He?

Our God isn't content with our shoved-down, our buried, our hidden bruises, our tiny seeds of bitterness or lack of forgiveness, our broken anniversaries, our markers of loss.

He wants to make them new. He wants to make them sweet. He wants to back-flow His redemption into these days, these places. HOWEVER broken or dead or gone.

If it's still painful, or fearful, or bitter, or sarcastic, or stabbing...it's not well-enough. And it is His grace and tender mercy that won't leave it alone. 

I'm thankful. 

This past Wednesday in Bible study, Matt taught on my mom's favorite end-of-life chapter of the Bible, Isaiah 40.  Ah, she read it SO many times those last weeks.  Often out loud. Often to my bitterness as I watched her suffer and fade and her skin peel to pieces and her cry out in agony all the while joyfully announcing renewed strength and eagle's wings.

It wasn't until she was long gone that I realized I was the one misunderstanding...not her.  She knew exactly what she was believing in, the Lord strong and mighty, strong in power. She waited on the Lord and He met her and the truth of Isaiah 40 she lives fully in.

When I got to pray for our church family after the study, I couldn't help but share the preciousness of this chapter to me.  And I know to some, my tears as I shared probably seemed like something must be unresolved, or still stabbing, or that I miss her. 

And of course I do. But I grinned with my tears as I shared because He has truly TAUGHT me there, God has MET me there...in that place...that little incubated hospital room that once made me shudder and now has a heavenly glow in my mind and memory and calendar. He's met me in that room so many times the last 20 years...healing, unpacking, reframing, replaying, restoring. Redeeming. Backwards.

I can go there now and full see Him. I can grin with good tears because He met my mama there forever and meets me there still. 

There are more places in my story I wish weren't a part of it.  Maybe you too. Maybe especially around Christmas it hits you extra heavy.

May He MEET us there, may we be brave enough to meet Him there...and take what was dark and cold and weary and thrill His HOPE into it.

I love you friends.

the Lord is near

Thanksgiving is not a liturgical holiday. 

But it could be.

For, what could be more faithful than breaking bread with family (and foes) knowing that Jesus spent his entire ministry doing the same?

And yet, there is a sense in which what happens around the Thanksgiving table is more determinative over our lives than the One who gives us life. Rare is the family that is immune to the political pandering that happens over turkey and mashed potatoes. Gone are the days we could sit back and rejoice without worrying about who will say what and ruin the holiday mood. We, then, approach the table of blessings without feeling like it’s much of a blessing at all.

But what if God is the one calling us together for the explicit purpose of redeeming our Thanksgiving tables? What if this is the year to let forgiveness reign over judgment? What if we took seriously the claim that, as Paul put it, “The Lord is near,” even at the holiday table?

There’s no guarantee that anything good can come out of our Thanksgivings this year, save for the fact that we worship the God of impossible possibility! So keep your eyes and ears open, let your gentleness be known, and rejoice! The Lord is near!

That good word blessed me this thanksgiving! And, the Lord carried it over.  After Thanksgiving dinner with all the kids, Matt's parents and a good friend, Matt and I headed over to the house of a dear church member, on his deathbed. 

We pulled up to the house with the whole street full of cars, and the porch and house was FULL of their children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren...grandparents and chubby babies and teens and pie...all the  richness of Joyce and Harry's lives was pouring out of that house. 

As we met people and gathered around Harry's bedside, I kept hearing echoes of "the Lord is Near." Keep your eyes and ears open. Let your gentleness be known.

We read Psalm 23, we anointed his precious head with oil and the forehead of his beloved wife of 74 years...we prayed over his dying bones and lifted our voices in the benediction and my heart was so full of the sacredness and holiness of it all it poured down my cheeks. 

You could sense we were standing at the gates of heaven. You could see we were surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses, both there and to ahead. In the tears of all around us, 40 people crammed in a sacred space, you could see hope and heartbreak and the THANKSGIVING.

Every dying and broken and pain,

the Lord is NEAR,

and He is EVERYTHING He says He is. 

There is ONE thing that has never disappointed, never abandoned, never let me down...

and He is NEAR. 

What a gift, this Thanksgiving

a great reminder : prayer

If you didn't grow up around mangoes like the entire 11 million population of Haiti, you might not know.

You might think, when you see trees full of them, branches heavy and swaying, that the large, green fruit is surely the right size for picking! But with mangoes--some kinds small as apricots, some large as dinner plates--size has nothing to do with their ripeness.

Long after they are full and green, they are still hard as rocks, hanging by a long thread of a stem. If you pick them now, force one off impatiently, it will remain hard and white and never soften...only sit on your table to shrivel and rot.

You have to leave them and let the invisible do it's work...let the sun warm their skin, let the drip...drip..drip of sap seep through those narrow stems and slowly soften and ripen the fruit.

When they are sweet and warm and golden and juicy on the inside, they fall...and it is from the ground, not the trees, that you gather mangoes.

All night long you here them thump and thwack, and with the earliest rays go the men, women and children with baskets and bags and five-gallon buckets. Get them before the goats and chickens do, huge baskets of fruit every day, more than everyone can eat, more than you can sell!

Those days, mango season, even the most serious business man quickly smudges off traces of orange from his chin, toothless babies and grannies patiently suck every fiber from the huge flat pits, students stash a few unflawed fruits among their notebooks, and everyone who goes to visit takes a few mangoes as a gift, even if every host already has a yard full of them.

---

There are many who wonder what to do for Haiti in this hard, hard time. How do you pray for so many baskets full of problems?

Does prayer even matter? Surely you have prayed many times before! What does prayer even DO?

Does prayer make it always mango season and feed the hungry? Does prayer clear the roads, calm the storms, supply the fuel so sought after, does prayer force peace down the throats of chaos and smudge out all traces of corruption and evil?

Not always.

But prayer DOES always drip...drip...drip grace.

The prayers of His people, lifted from well-worn knees and faithful hands, slowly and surely deliver grace to hard hearts, trickles warmth into stone-cold situations, seeps His grace upon grace through narrow stems and slowly softens and ripens.

God uses our prayers—our steady, invisible prayers—to drip grace into the lives of those we love, into the hearts of those we pray for, into the situations that look from the outside like they will never bear fruit, will NEVER be sweet.

It is not TIME that sweetens stony mangoes into delectable, nutritious fruit. It is that deep water, coming up from many roots, climbing strong trunks and spreading through a thousand stems, pouring slowly into each fruit, turning it golden!

Do not simply wait for your brother or aunt or co-worker to finally soften to Jesus...do not wait for your difficult community or your strained marriage to change. Do not wait for something to shift in Haiti, do not wait idly by and hope that that hard prayer request sitting on the counter will somehow sweeten!

It is not by patience, but by PRAYER His grace pours out...the deep-rooted prayers of many, lifted up with strong and faithful hands day-in-and-day-out that CHANGES the hearts of men, that softens the broken situations, that takes what was hard and usless and makes it sweet and GOOD.

Pray on for our dear Haiti, ushering grace into the hearts and lives and situations of many.

Pray for that which is bitter to miraculously turn sweet, and bring your baskets.

As we wait and watch and pray...it is with hope.