This week’s post is by Becca Wellan. A volunteer at Redeemer and full-time nanny (aka: superhero).

Be thankful.

I have a pretty good guess at what you’re thinking: It’s not Thanksgiving yet.

I am notorious (in my own head, anyway) for associating certain emotions and concepts with specific holidays. I can’t be the only one. The word Immanuel means “God with us.” The word Immanuel also makes me want to hang up Christmas lights. And I can make a good guess at what song is playing in your head right now (does this mean I’m psychic?).

I do this with the word “thankful.” Maybe you do too. I think of cozy sweaters, the smell of cinnamon, the laughter of friends and family as we eat ridiculous amounts of food, and the pumpkin cheesecake I make us each year that never turns out right. Ever.

Last night, I went for a walk with my dear friend and roommate, Kyla. Actually, she was longboarding and I was panting like a lost puppy trying to keep up with her.

“Hey Becca,” she called out, roughly two miles ahead of me. “Let’s do the thankfulness ABC’s.”

… but it’s not Thanksgiving, goofus.

I just laughed and went along with it. We were thankful for everything, from “Apples” to “Zaaa! For pizzaaaa.” Our conversation was a fun, silly exercise but it got us talking. How would our hearts change if we started to actively cultivate a daily awareness of the wonder and blessing from God in our lives?

When we aren’t thankful, our hearts may grow cold and we may not see just how truly, deeply, unbelievably blessed we are. A thankful heart opens your eyes to blessings in your life that, let’s be real, may go unnoticed as real-life tears at your skin and threatens to steal your joy.  
 

This year, I’ve cried my fair share of ocean tears. I’ve learned that on Christ the solid rock I stand, sit, lay down and cry. So have you, in one way or another. 2016 has been an incredibly trying year for many in my Redeemer family. We’ve been heartbroken, individually and collectively.

In the midst of deep hurt and sorrow, God pours out His love in abundance. What if we started to notice it and talk about it? The bible encourages a thankfulness that runs deeper than circumstance, rooted in the goodness of Jesus and everything that He has already done for us.

...giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light. He has delivered us from the domain of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins. // Colossians 1:12-14

We can praise God, always, because He already rescued us from the domain of darkness. Even when we feel darkness surround us, it’s not our home anymore. Darkness isn’t our identity. We are redeemed, forgiven, and qualified to party in heaven one day, where He promises to remove all sorrow, pain, and death forever (Revelation 21:4). Until then, we have a God who promises to never leave us, no matter what battles we may face (Deuteronomy 31:6).

So what are you thankful for?

I am thankful for:

• A brand new awareness of my weakness and sin that has driven me deeper into the arms of Christ.
• A God who calls me His cherished, forgiven, deeply loved daughter, in spite of me.
• My friends who have extended their forgiveness, even though it was undeserved. Who sat with me and let me be broken. Who reminded me of the gospel when I couldn’t remind myself. Who gave me their wisdom, and food (I love food).
• My beloved church family at Redeemer. Even all the nerds in my Gospel Community. I love you all.

The list could run for miles. 

Let’s be a community who together recognize and talk about the power of Christ at work in the mundane, the suffering, and the joy that life brings.

So, what are you thankful for?

It is good to give thanks to the Lord, to sing praises to your name O Most High, to declare your steadfast love in the morning, and your faithfulness by night. // Psalm 92:1.

 

This week's blog was written by Theresa Adams, a wife and mother who loves to tap dance. 

The other night my little family of four trooped down to the beach in search of a sunset. And sunset we got. God did not disappoint. His handiwork was all over the sky and the water reflecting below. As we sat, okay my husband and I sat while our boys bouldered and climbed, gazing on His Glory there was a Heron not far away. It was so still it almost looked as though it had been placed there by a sculptor for our viewing pleasure. The sun was behind it just so that it was a still silhouette unmoving yet full of grace. As the sun continued to dip and the horizon played with yellows and pinks, still the Heron stood. It paid no attention to the voices calling out in loud delight (our kids) nor to the never ending bark of the delighted dog in the surf (not ours). It simply just was. Whether it was asleep, getting ready to eat, or also admiring the view, I'll never know. But, what I do know is that I could learn a thing of two from the Heron. I could learn how to "just be" amidst the countless distractions and chaos of the world around me. I could find out how to still be full of grace even as the circumstances around me shift and swirl.

 A verse that is often read on well-meaning magnets and wall hangings is Psalms 46:10 "Be still and know that I am God."  Synonyms of the word, still include motionless, stationary, immobile. "Rooted to the spot, as if turned to stone." That would lead us to believe that "being still" is a passive state requiring very little of us. I am pretty sure that those of us who've gone through any season requiring us to be still know that the act of being still is a very involved and engaging place to be. To intentionally choose to "just be" in the season you are in. To not look ahead to what is next and to not be fill up the present. There is nothing passive about guarding your time or safekeeping the now. Maybe it's just me, but I find being still a difficult place to be. In this fast-paced-busy-is-best-time we find ourselves living in it almost goes against our nature. It certainly goes against our culture.

This particular season of being still that I find myself in is new to me. Both of my boys, whom I've stayed home with since they were born, are now in school full-time. It's something I've long anticipated, but now that it's upon me I'm not quite sure how to navigate it. I am continually met with questions and comments such as "What are you going to do with all of your spare time? Are you going to be getting a job? Wow, that must be so nice!"  Yes, it is nice, okay some days is downright lovely,  but the thing is I don't have an answer to those other questions. And that is by design. But at times, when peppered by inquiring minds, I can forget the intentionality behind not knowing. And at times whether it's my insecurity or the fear of being looked down on for not having a plan or because I'm not able to satisfy other people's curiosity I can forget that my security isn't in what I do or don't do. I can get amnesia about where my identity lies. It's then when I'm misplacing my identity, which I start to justify my choices, or I elaborate on what I do with my time. Anyone?

The thing that I have to preach to myself time and time again is that my identity is rooted in what God has said who I am in Christ. It doesn't matter what anyone else says. Even well-meaning friends or dearly loved family doesn't get to decide who I am.  When you are in a season of being still whether you are there due to a self-induced prescription while learning the art of saying "no" or whether you are there because that is where God has placed you, and you don't know for what reason or for how long, it's almost as if you have to get used to the silence. 

You need time to grow accustomed to the pace or rather a lack of. To slow your thinking from constantly looking ahead and re-learn how to look at the now with fondness and thanksgiving. To remember that who you are has worth. No matter what you do. No matter how much you make. Regardless of where you live or what you study or how you score. No matter how full or free, your calendar is. Our identity and our security are not tethered to what we do or don't do.

 If I could imagine what that Heron had running through his or her mind as it stood there on the beach, I suppose it wasn't much. I don't suppose it was preoccupied with its identity as a Heron being linked to his movement.  I don't think it cared whether others thought it was insignificant because it wasn't busy being busy and I don't believe it was thinking ahead to the next season of life and how it couldn't wait to be done standing on that rock. I am fairly certain it wasn't even making a plan for how to get off of that rock. It simply just was where it was. Easier said than done, but let's not rush past it or dismiss it. 

Let's try, rather, to embrace the in-between. Look to being still as a gift of rest or quiet or refreshment. No matter why you end up there or no matter how long you find yourself there I hope that you, and me, can find enjoyment in simply being still.

This week's post was written by Theresa Adams who is constantly trying to convince herself that tea is just as good as coffee.

In the last few years we have had to sit down with our two boys, multiple times, to share with them that people near and dear were no longer going to be married. We've also experienced a lock-down at my son's elementary school. We've known people who have passed away and others who have battled life threatening illnesses. And this is just what our little family of four has encountered. The world at large is full of broken marriages, hurting people, dangers and uncertainty. As a mama who has two little ones, which means my heart lives outside of my body, there can be much to cause fear. Much to cause anxiety. Much that could overwhelm us.

It would be great if they made life-sized bubbles for our kiddos so that we could shield them from all of the brokenness and messiness they will encounter here on earth. But since that isn't an option what are we to do? How to shield them and let them experience it all so that when they go out into the world, as an adult. they will know how to comfort those in the brokenness rather than add to it? How to insulate them from all the negative? How to do so without your own fear being a burden upon their childhood? How to teach them that being courageous is sometimes more important than being safe? How to prepare them for life so they won't come running back to us and live in our basements? Unfortunately they will not encounter another way until they are rejoicing in heaven. Only then will their tears finally be wiped away. Then there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain. Until that time there are all of the above and more.

This whole living in fear thing is new to me. Growing up and in my young adult life I was mildly void of fear. Spontaneity beckoned me and I typically answered without much thought or concern of what could or couldn't happen. I hitchhiked and went on solo trips across country all without a cellphone (least you think that was on account of bravery let me just be honest and say it was because they hadn't been invented yet.) I threw myself off of cliffs into the water below just for the thrill of it. Now, since becoming a mother, I get nervous and clammy driving over high bridges or when my kids get too close to the edge of a ledge overlooking the water below. Even though said ledge towers above them and there is literally no foreseeable way they could fall in. Still clammy. Still sometimes hold onto the hood of my youngest least a sea creature from down below were to leap up and decide he'd make a tasty treat. Okay, maybe not that last one so much but you can see how easily it is to be dwarfed by the umbrella of "what-if's." And these are just for the run-of-the-mill fears. Not the life threatening "what-ifs" about contracting a life-threatening disease or coming into a life-threatening situation simply when going throughout your day It, again, really does make the kid-in-a-bubble thing sound not so bad.

It's all too much. There is too much to fear and there is too much that could go wrong. But if we let fear win then we are going to miss out on too much joy. Too much love. Too much spontaneity and too much good. Life is hard enough as it is that we don't need to be saddled down by any additional weight of worry or anxiety or distress. What is a mama to do other than to spend time on her knees and trust the One who gave her those that cause her heart to live outside of her body. What can we do but believe and trust Him when he says:

"Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be frightened, and do not be dismayed, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” Joshua 1:9

We can also remember we have a choice to live each day one day at a time. Not looking too far ahead but rather just soaking up the moment and the gift that it is. Maybe it's just me, but I don't want fear to get an inch more than it deserves. It has it's place and it is a good emotion to have when, say, you run into a grizzly bear. But day in and day out I want my emotions to know that I'm in charge and I want to model that for my children.

Fear often is nothing more than an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous. In most cases it isn't even an actuality it's just a possibility. These ones we are raising up are going to need all the braveness they can muster.  They who take their cues from us. They look to us before they have a reaction. They cry harder if we gasp when they fall. They look more triumphant after seeing our smile. They need to know that we think they've got this. They also need to know that we've got this and that in the times when we don't that we  have someone to turn to who will never falter. Never leave. Never change. They need to know that we will keep trusting in the One who holds us all in the palm of His hands. They need to know that we will keep crying out on our knees for the courage and peace and love only He can provide to keep the fear it it's place.

"Steps unseen before me,

Hidden dangers near;

Nearer still my Savior,

Whispering, "Be of cheer"

Joys, like birds of springtime,

To my heart have flown,

Singing all so sweetly,

                                                                               "He will not leave me alone"

 

This blog is written by Becca Wellan. Nanny for two littles. Caffeine addict. Child of God.

Things that stress me out: Bees, balloons, and house hunting.

The past few weeks, I’ve been singing The Renters Blues to myself as I scroll through Craigslist every five minutes. But hey, who’s counting? Apparently the availability rate in Bellingham is 1% right now. Pour me a glass of that sweet tea, wouldya honey? I made it with the lemons life gave me.

Okay, maybe I’m exaggerating. Just a little. But hey, finding a new place, ideally with some walls and a roof, is pretty high on my “adulting” list now that I bought a pint of Ben & Jerry’s.

Since I moved out of my parents to go to Western, I’ve searched for a place to live each year. A place of rest and refuge; where I feel safe. A place filled up with laughter, shared tears, and welcoming arms. A place I can feel at home.

As I’ve wrestled through some emotionally rough patches these past few months, I’ve come to realize that my search for home goes much deeper than just finding some walls, a roof, and a lease sign.

Since I could breathe, my soul has been aching for home. It’s at the core of who I am. It’s how I’m wired. The grace I’ve found in these last few months is that I’ve been forced to re-think where I’m trying to find it.

If you are human (if you can read this, I’m 98% certain you are), you naturally long to feel safe. You desire to be fully known, flaws and all, yet be fully accepted. To be comforted, and deeply loved. To have stability and consistency. When you find this, you find home. That’s how God wired you.

Since I could breathe, my soul has been aching for this kind of home. And, I always find it in relationships. This is not always a bad thing. Community and deep friendships are some of the most beautiful gifts God gives us. God’s people, though sinful, are His presence in a broken world. I fully believe that.

But here’s the catch:

People aren’t always there for you when you need them. People make stupid decisions that break your heart. People will forget about you, they will back out on their plans with you. They will hurt you, even with the best intentions. And, there is always the gut-wrenching chance they will leave you.  

The problem is that I find myself banking on other people to come through for me, every time I need them. I need their comforting words, their reassurance, their presence, to feel okay again.

So where do you find home? Who do you depend on to always make you feel safe, to love you completely, to never fail you?

God wired us to long to be loved perfectly, to be deeply connected to a constant anchor when the storms come. But, other people have storms, too.

So why did God wire us this way?

“One thing have I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” // Psalm 27:4-5

We are wired to seek after God’s presence, as long as we live. He is our constant anchor; no one else - no matter how great they are - can be that for us. We are wired to long for His company, to run into His arms when the our storms come. To know Him, and be known by Him.

We truly find home when our desire for home is met in Christ Jesus. It’s what we were designed for. Only through believing in Him can we be fully known yet fully accepted. Only in Him can we find true comfort. Only through believing in Him, and living each day resting in His constant, unbreakable friendship, can you come home.

Each day, may our heartcry be, “Lord, may I find my home in you all the days of my life.”

I still don’t have a place to live in the fall. I’ve been making phone calls and looking at property management websites even as I’ve been writing this. But I can put my laptop away and rest, knowing that my greatest need for home has already been met.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” // Matthew 11:28

This week’s post is by Brandon Adent, a deacon at Redeemer Church. He likes music, words, and words about music.

Easter morning I showed up for rehearsal feeling less than stellar, and left feeling even less so.

Exhausted, I lay on the couch, and hardly got up for a week.

I don’t get sick easily; it’d been probably seven years since I’d had the flu, and probably three since I’d had to take multiple days off from work. Maybe both of those numbers are normal, maybe they’re high, maybe they’re low. No matter, when Tuesday showed up, they both reset to zero, and the timing felt absolutely the worst.

Really, anytime is the worst, but this was bad. There wasn’t really anything of utmost importance I would miss, nothing that couldn’t be rescheduled, anyway.

But after several months of stalemate, I was at long last beginning to see progress in a couple of different areas, finally starting to feel productive, to see progress, to get back into a rhythm. I was exhausted from spinning my wheels in the sand, but at least I was moving again.

Yeah, no more. For the next week, I did nothing but toss and turn, whimper and puke. In all honestly, I didn’t probably have it that bad. But it felt bad. I felt bad.

And as I sat there wanting nothing but the Second Coming of Christ, I couldn’t help but ask God what I had done to deserve this.

Lay Down, Little Sheepy

Some time ago, someone pointed out to me the particular phrasing of the first couple verses of the well known Psalm 23:

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul

He makes me lie down.

At least for my soul, that sounds a lot like this:

Okay, little sheepy, this is a good spot. Take a minute and lay down. No… stop here, don’t keep going. Stop. Okay, c’mon bud, get down. No, all the way… all the way; no, I said DOWN, not up.

LITTLE BUDDY: LAY. DOWN.

DOWN. NOW.

*sickness or injury ensue*

At first glance, this sort of thing seems a bit vindictive or something, but it's actually the opposite.

While Psalm 23 may or may not be a direct reference to the biblical concept of Sabbath rest, I can’t help but see the parallels.

Needing Rest

We need rest; it’s hardwired into creation; even before the Fall, there was rest. In fact, God Himself rested and set that day apart (Gen 2.1-3), not because He needed it, but because He knew we needed it.

Our bodies need to physically recover from the things that we do, but rest is more than sleep or lying around. It’s also allowing oneself the time to just “be”, to reflect on God’s greatness and be astounded that He somehow is mindful of us (Psalm 8).

Rest reminds us who we are, that we can’t do it all. It gives us a chance to unwind and charge up for the week or the day or the hour ahead, mindful of God’s power and our weakness apart from Him.

As Christians, we can take a break from our labor in the full knowledge that Jesus has worked tirelessly and rested perfectly, died and risen so that we can rest in His record and not our own.

Hating Rest

Regardless of any benefit, we don’t like rest. At least I don’t. When I go hiking, I am all about how much ground we cover, how many miles we need to make in a day, how far to the next camp. Don’t stop for water or take pictures in the middle of a hill, keep up the momentum. Actually, my tendency is to speed up while ascending.

I’ll rest when I’m dead, thank you very much. Right now, I’ve got somewhere to be.

I mean, I like the idea of taking a second to look around. But it takes much more effort than it should to just pick my head up for a quick breather; I really like the idea that I don’t need it.

That somehow God made me wrong, that I know what I’m capable of more than He does. I’d rather spend the night nauseous than admit I can’t do it, and it’s happened often enough.

Just Lay Down

There’s a lot of different ways to rest, or "sabbath", and the best way to rest varies so much from person-to-person.

The Sabbath was a day of rest, built into the week. God Himself “sabbathed” after He populated the earth, and written into the Ten Commandments was a weekly “rest day”, which was to be spent differently than the other days of the week, to spend time with God and His people, do good and rest from the labors of the week. Keeping the Sabbath was a big deal, and with the Jewish people today, it still is.

There’s a million ways to take a Sabbath. Take a nap, take a walk, hang out with friends, take your family to the park, play an instrument, work on a project, read a book (or three...), write a letter to your grandmother, and so on and so forth. Just take time to reflect on what God has done for you in Christ and enjoy all the good gifts He’s given you. Take some time to just “be”.

Maybe it’s just me. But I’ve found that when I am not obedient in regular rest, I get made to lay down.

Thankfully, whether we’re smart enough to see it or not, wherever we’re laid down is green pasture where, whether we want Him to or not, He restores our soul.

This post is by Ashley Bowie, Jesus lover, coffee mistress, wordsmith, in Christ.

I have always known that I wanted to be a writer. I remember constructing stories for my barbies from earliest memory. I remember doing my chores and having to redo them because I had been day dreaming when I was supposed to be dusting. I wrote my oscar acceptance speech for best original screenplay when I was about 12. I was supposed to win that around age 25. I was supposed to be a well established writer with a vacation home by now. While I'm at it I was supposed to have a husband and children by now also. I was supposed to win a thousand souls to the Lord, and I was supposed to fall asleep at night feeling satisfied that I was living the life I was supposed to.

It's an interesting thought isn't it? "Supposed to." It means, this was my expectation and it's not what I'm seeing. It means this is what was expected of me and I have not measured up. I think we have all been there. You feel like you're not doing enough or enough of the right things. You have an image in your head or heart of what you wanted to be, or you want to define yourself a certain way and you get frustrated because it’s not looking like you thought it would or coming as easily as you expected.

We all battle this in different ways. I was supposed to get that promotion, I was supposed to forgive that person, I was supposed to have succeeded, I was supposed to provide for all my family's needs, I was supposed to stop worrying, I was supposed to grow faster in this area. It means, in so many words, I've failed. And to be fair, we do fail, regularly and spectacularly. But the problem with "supposed to" is that it revolves primarily around our own expectations.

Last weekend I attended the Bible and breakfast event for the women of Redeemer. Our speaker Danielle Dow spoke directly out of Ephesians 1 and something she said hit home so much more clearly than it ever has before. She said, "your identity is in Christ." Earth shattering revelation there right? Maybe I'm a little slow because I think most of us only hear that about 10 times a week. Danielle agreed that it was not new information but went on pressing that our entire identity is in Christ.

It does not mean that your identity is hidden somewhere in Christ and that if you dig around long enough you can find the title you were meant for. As though you're putting on a name tag that says "disciple maker," or "mother," or "christian business executive." If you get a title it's this "In Christ." It's stamped on your soul, written on your heart and grafted into the fibers of your brain. If God is "I am" then I am "in Christ." This is my name, my dwelling place, my purpose and my life's ambition all rolled into one.

It's not like your home, where you sleep and eat and then go out into the world to do the things God has given us to do. It's more than clothes that we put on to show the world who we are and who we want to be known as. It's more than a job title with responsibilities, more than a relationship that we delight in. Being "in Christ" is your very skin. It's your heart and your heart's rhythm. It's neurons and fingerprints. In Christ is every piece of your identity.

I have shortened the passage that we walked through, but if you have time you should read the whole thing.

Ephesians 1:3-14
"Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us IN CHRIST with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places, even as he chose us IN HIM before the foundation of the world, … according to the purpose of his will, to the praise of his glorious grace, with which he has blessed us in the Beloved. IN HIM we have redemption through his blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of his grace, … making known to us the mystery of his will, according to his purpose, which he set forth IN CHRIST as a plan for the fullness of time, to unite all things IN HIM, things in heaven and things on earth. IN HIM we have obtained an inheritance… so that we who were the first to hope IN CHRIST might be to the praise of his glory. IN HIM you also, when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and believed IN HIM were sealed with the promised Holy Spirit, who is the guarantee of our inheritance…”

Look at the rich depth of description of all the things you are. If your name and all that you are made of is "in Christ" you are blessed, you are chosen, you are adopted, you are redeemed, you are a worshiper, you have an inheritance, You are sealed with the Holy Spirit. How much grander is this than a job title or a list of accomplishments? How much more satisfying is this knowledge than chasing down dreams of earthly glory?

When I recognize that my identity is "in Christ" pouring coffee for eight hours a day becomes worship and blessing, my life and work becomes disciple making work simply because I "In Christ" am doing it. Struggling through scriptures in search of understanding, or working through forgiving others becomes the holiness he is working out in me. There is no greater level to be reached by getting a promotion, no better version of myself to be found by adding a relationship. Sure these things are tools of God used for sanctification, but they don't redeem me any more, they don't increase my inheritance, they have no impact on my adoption, and they are not worthy of my worship.

This means that the only thing that I am "supposed to be" is IN CHRIST. There are commands in scripture to remain in Him to abide in Him, to listen to his voice and carry out his will. This does require action on our part and certainly we get it wrong from time to time. But it is your name to worship Him, it is your blood to be blessed in Him. So when you start feeling weighed down by all the things you thought your life would be or look like by now just remember that who you are is IN CHRIST, and as you remain and abide, he is guiding you to exactly what you are supposed to be.

Hello, I am in Christ and my name is Ashley