Not hope that everything will go as I want it to go. Not hope that I won’t have to suffer in this life. Not hope that everyone will do what they’re supposed to do so I can be happy. But hope, faith, certainty that my God will be God.

There’s definitely stuff in this life worthy of a good dose of momentary hopelessness. You know — those plan-altering, breath-taking circumstances. And God is patient with our limited human perspective. He is. He remembers that we can’t see past this moment — toys strewn everywhere, dishes piled up high, and phone calls that change the course of our lives. He remembers.

But there’s a beauty that comes with rest of soul. When, even through human tears and questions, we wrestle our hearts into saying, “God, I need You. I trust You. I believe You. Grace me with Your vision that I might walk through this mess in agreement with Your will.”

G r a c e   m e
w i t h   Y o u r   v i s i o n .

A young woman gave her testimony at our church on Sunday. When she was three years old her liver failed. She had complication after complication from the surgery. Her parents prayed and received God’s promised grace. And she was fully healed. Then at age 15 she had deadly levels of E. coli growing in her body. God graciously spared her. Now in her early 20’s God is sending her to the most crime-infested city in the United States to bring the hope of Jesus to people desperate for some light.

God had a plan. And though we can’t fully understand, nor do we want it, His plan sometimes includes faith-building seasons of suffering.

From what she said, it seems her parents remained steadfast — believing their God to be faithful. I’m sure emotions came. I’m sure momentary hopelessness surfaced. But it reminded me. Again.

Imagine how our soul might be if we always began with truth. The mess comes, it takes away our breath, but we stand firm. Not because we’re certain that things will go like we want them to go, but because we’re certain that God will be God.

I know it’s easier said than done. I know that resting in His goodness when things seem to be spinning out of control and we’re choking with questions could very well be the most challenging thing we do as humans. Because our hearts have a strong opinion. But the fact is that worrisome control isn’t our inheritance in Christ. Peace is our inheritance. Peace that flows from hope.

Peace I leave with you;
my peace I give to you.
Not as the world gives do I give to you.
Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid.
John 14:27

God does have a plan. He does. And His plans are always for His glory and for the good of His children. Always. That eternal “good” might be attained through a painful valley, but it is good, nonetheless. Because sanctification is good. Freedom is good. Faith is good. And our God is forever good.

 

How to stir up hope when life is crumbling:

• Ask for prayer from trusted friends. We weren’t meant to walk this life alone.
• Be raw and real with God. He already knows.
• Remind your soul of what He says in His Word. If He said it, then it’s truth.
• Give yourself grace to be a mess. He’s patient and loving and kind and remembers we’re dust.
• Sing praise.

 

 
Fill me, Lord…

How do you define hope?
In what promises or truths of God are you currently resting and hoping?
 

If you haven’t yet received it, click here to find out more about my newest ebook that I’m giving away to my subscribers for the month of January.
 

The post for when we need some hope appeared first on Lara Howard.

I’ve seen myself do it. It’s too tempting to coast on yesterday’s faith when life is good and easy. Not that good and easy isn’t a gift — a “breather.” It is. And not that I ask for the trials. I definitely don’t. But good and easy often promotes a lazy faith in me. And a lazy faith doesn’t take me where my soul wants to go.

It’s when my faith is vibrant — clinging to God regardless of circumstance — that abundant life stirs deep within. I’m not sure why He made it that way. But that’s one reason He calls the challenges and the sufferings a gift.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
James 1:2-4

When faced with challenges, we’re more prone to press into Him for wisdom and healing and hope. And when we spend time seeking Him, we find Him. And when we find Him, we find what our soul craves.

I know it’s a “craptacular” paradox on the outset — seeing the difficulties as gifts. But intimate communing with Him, when He’s our very breath and food, cannot compare to the “good and easy.” He’s that fulfilling.
 

Fill me, Lord…

How have you seen this paradox play out in your own life?

 

The post why I don’t like the “good and easy” appeared first on Lara Howard.

Just to keep it real, my personal life hasn’t been “fine.” It’s been hard. Not hopeless or despairing, just hard.

I’m in a season of allowing God to mend some painful wounds. And through this recent “pressing into Him” He has proven (again) that He will always be the Soul-Healer.

I don’t say that lightly. I don’t say that like some cheesy greeting card that tries to make you believe there’s hope. I say that having experienced His comfort in spite of circumstance.

Not to be the cyberspace downer of the day, but people will hurt us. And we’ll hurt them. Until Jesus makes all things straight, we’re just a bunch of messy, selfish souls living next to one another. And wounds will come.

But there’s this throneroom. And sitting in it with all His glory is the Healer of hearts. He doesn’t impose Himself. He doesn’t make us enter in. But He waits with His balm of love.

Our call is to bow. Our call is to go to Him with the wound — with it gaping open, causing anguish and sorrow. Our call is to lay it before Him.

That just means we get real. We go to Him instead of racking up that credit card or filling the prescription that we don’t really need. We go to Him instead of drinking ourselves into a coma or getting revenge on the causer of pain.

We cry the ugly cry and tell Him all we’re feeling. We scream and holler and shout out the fears. And once we’re empty of us, we sit still. We listen. And we recite what’s true and read His love again and again.

And like water to burning coals, He soothes. He allows us a glimpse into the gift of “suffering” because of its ability to bring a deeper, more intimate faith. (2 Corinthians 12:9)

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and God of all comfort, who comforts us in all our affliction, so that we may be able to comfort those who are in any affliction, with the comfort with which we ourselves are comforted by God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4

I don’t say any of this lightly. I say it as one who, by His great grace, has learned that there’s only one place to go for true soul healing. I say it as one who’s learned to process pain in the presence of God. Otherwise our hearts remain restless.

I’ve recently discovered singer/songwriter Audrey Assad (love her and yes I live under a small rock since I *just* discovered her). She recorded this video talking about worship and then leads into her song “Restless.”

Yes, the video is 9 minutes. But I promise, if you make the space to watch it as an act of worship, you’ll be blessed. If you just don’t have 9 minutes, the song itself starts at 5:16. Also totally worth it.

(Click here if you can’t see the video.)

 
Fill me, Lord…

Testify of a time when God has healed a wound in your own soul.
 

The post processing pain in the presence of God appeared first on Lara Howard.

We can either start with the chaos, like this horrific Colorado shooting. We can hold it in our hands and examine every evil angle. Then through the ache that inevitably comes, we can define God as unfair, unjust, unpowerful, and unloving. We can look through the lens of circumstance and determine who we think God must be in light of the evil around us. We can. It’s our choice.

But there’s a high price to pay with that route. The price is fear. If we choose to begin with the suffering, we will find ourselves standing on very shaky ground. We will feel exposed and open to the evil schemes of this world.

That kind of fear steals all peace and debilitates any hope. It makes us want to hide ourselves in a closet with our loved ones. It squelches dreams and hinders forward-movement. And to be honest, that route angers me — to think that such evil suffering could not only harm us in an instance, but could keep on killing our soul-peace with fear.

And that’s exactly where the enemy wants us. He loves to paralyze us with fear. (John 10:10)

But there is another choice — another route. And we can choose it.

flickr photo credit

Instead of beginning with suffering, we can begin with God. We can remember this One who reigns — the One who reveals Himself throughout time and in the pages of His Word. (Isaiah 40:12-14) And after we lift Him high in our hearts — believing “My God is good! He heals the brokenhearted! He restores the runaway! He pursues in love!” — our perspective changes.

When I begin with Him I remember that this is not my ultimate home. It’s too broken. Our short stay in this fallen world is a time of testing that proves who will choose to believe God, and who will not. And those who choose Jesus will one day move on to an eternal home. (John 14:1-6)

When I begin with Him I remember that as His child I am not at the mercy of evil. When we say “yes” to God — giving Him our lives to do with what He wills — He promises to never leave or forsake us. That doesn’t mean suffering won’t come. Suffering will come. But we will only go through the suffering that, in His infinite wisdom and eternal understanding, He deems “necessary” for His greatest glory and our greatest good. (1 Peter 1:6-7)

When I begin with Him I remember that He gives people over to their evil desires. He says so in Romans 1:18-32. When a person turns his heart away in rebellion to God, He allows them to run far and wide. He allows them to follow their twisted, heartless, depraved desires while He faithfully protects those who trust Him. (Psalm 139:5)

When I begin with Him I remember that forgiveness frees me. When we harbor bitterness in our soul, we cheat ourselves of life. We harm ourselves rather than the accused. For the sake of our souls, and in response to God’s great forgiveness, let’s choose to release others from our personal judgment. (Matthew 6:14-15)

Therefore let those who suffer according to God’s will entrust their souls to a faithful Creator while doing good.
1 Peter 4:19

Suffering will come. Sadly, until Jesus comes again, more shootings will send shock waves across the nation. We will weep bitter tears. But if we choose to begin with God, hope can rise from the ashes. Hope can rise up from these ashes.

 
Fill me, Lord…

How is your spirit today in light of all the suffering?
How does beginning with God change your perspective?

 

To my friends memorizing the Sermon on the Mount with me, I hope you had a productive breather week. Now we press on.

{Week 24}
19 Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, 20 but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. 21 For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
Matthew 6:19-21

Linking up today at Raising Arrows and Graceful.

The post when suffering makes us doubt God’s goodness {Colorado} appeared first on Lara Howard.

But are you ready for a shocker? God’s not an American. That’s right. Nor does He bow to my preconceived ideas as to how life should go.

He’s God. I’m not. And as God, His eternal ways so far exceed mine (and every other person’s on the planet) that they cannot be fully defined or understood. (Isaiah 55:8-9) Hang with that thought for a minute and brain cells start exploding.

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But even when we cannot figure Him out, or know exactly which way He’s leading, there exists one certain thing we can stand firm upon. His perfect, refining, pursuing, omniscient love always motivates His movement. Always. We need to stand there, because God’s ways sometimes include very anti-American tactics…

like suffering…

and rejection.

(So un-American.)

Just because something’s difficult, challenging, or even downright painful doesn’t mean it isn’t right. Just because it’s taking longer than we hoped or strips us of nearly every comfort, doesn’t mean we’re necessarily on the wrong path. (Acts 21:11-14)

And on the flip side, just because throngs of people follow us on Twitter or friend us on Facebook or share our blog posts or pat our backs for a job “well done,” doesn’t mean we’re pointed in the right direction. (John 7:60, 66-67)

We cannot begin with what we see to determine God’s plan for us. We cannot determine God’s will through the filter of circumstance or accolades.

We have to begin with Him. Discerning God’s will begins and ends with intimacy. Deciphering the next step means we spend time looking at our God, bowing before Him alone in our prayer closet, and pouring over the pages of Scripture.

Through your precepts I get understanding;
therefore I hate every false way.
Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path.
Psalm 119:104-105

This God on high knows the beginning from the end and completely understands every detail in between. His plans are good but they aren’t conventional.

Sometimes, to get to the resurrection, there has to first be a crucifixion. Sometimes, to walk the road He’s planned, means unpopularity with the same world from which we crave approval.

Just because it’s difficult doesn’t mean it isn’t right. And just because a multitude sings praises for our accomplishments, doesn’t mean we’ve got it figured out. We set our hearts on Him alone and trust that He will faithfully guide.

 
Fill me, Lord…

When have you followed Him down a path that would seem a little crazy to the world? How did He point you in that direction?
 

The post what should I do {discerning God’s will} appeared first on Lara Howard.

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But complaining — whether inwardly or outwardly — strips away the joy rightfully ours in Christ. Rightfully ours because of His sacrifice.

“Are you telling me that I’m supposed to be happy that my {fill in the blank} is a wreck?”

No. I’m definitely not. Some excruciating situations mark our world. Excruciating. But Jesus gives His joy. (John 15:11) His joy arises when we abide in Him. His joy stirs when we believe God to be who He has revealed Himself to be. You know how I know? Because He says so…and because He’s proven it in my life.

Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.
James 1:2-4

First, we ask Him to reveal when our heart leans toward complaining. We have deceptive hearts. That’s why we need Him to reveal.

Then, once we sense the wallowing (and we’re tempted to print up tickets to our pity party), we break away. I go to my laundry room. And we speak truths out-loud.

Because He does love us. (John 15:13) He does. And if we’re in Christ, then we’re called God’s daughter or son. (Romans 8:14-15) And as His child He has good plans for us. (Jeremiah 29:11) And yes, His plans may include a season of wilderness walking, but even so — even so! — He allows it with purpose. (Matthew 4:4)

As we remember true things we can then say, “Thank you, Lord.” Because we cannot see what He sees and we do not know what He knows. But we can say “thank You” because He faithfully unfolds His good plan.

Declarations of faith stir His Spirit within us. And joy characterizes His Spirit. Therefore faith stirs joy. Believe.

 
Fill me, Lord…

How have you seen faith stir joy even if your circumstance didn’t change?
 

The post pity parties steal our joy appeared first on Lara Howard.

We all have situations that we wish were different. But even in the midst of this crazy, earthly reality, there’s an amazing thing that can happen. It’s called contentment. Contentment accepts the now — even in all the mess — while running forward with future hope.

Running. By faith.

flickr photo credit: sean venn

My mama recently began her journey through chemo. (I know. It’s *blech*.) But I’ve seen contentment blossom in her. A contentment with the now that cannot be explained apart from her God. In fact I called her yesterday to ask and she said, “He already knew this would happen. And He’s promised to carry me. I choose to rest there.”

Paul says in Philippians that he’s learned the secret to contentment, regardless of his circumstance.

Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.
Philippians 4:11-13

And he meant all things.

He meant every good thing as well as every excruciating thing like being beaten to near death eight times or shipwrecked three times or hungry or sleepless. (just to name a few; 2 Corinthians 11:24-27) In alllllll these things he learned how to move through them with contentment.

To be content means “to be mentally or emotionally satisfied with the now”. It means that even when Paul’s enemies beat him, God proved to be sufficient. Paul didn’t *need* more. He found complete satisfaction in the strength of His Lord. But he did so with the future hope of glory at the forefront of his mind. He kept running forward, invigorated with hope.

There’s a contentment to be experienced in Christ and it’s apart from life’s happenings. It’s apart from how much stuff we have and apart from relationships. It’s apart from disease and apart from dreams fulfilled. But it isn’t free.

It’s learned through the trudging along in life’s valleys. It’s learned when life strips everything away and God proves to be enough. Or as a friend describes in the depths of her own valley, “Contentment doesn’t equal happiness. Contentment means I choose to believe God despite the raw hurt in my heart.”

The world will watch, confounded at the peace we can have through the strength of our Savior. But we will rejoice, contented with the now yet hopeful for the future.

 
Fill me, Lord…

How have you experienced contentment through the mire of trial?
How would you encourage those who yearn for contentment?
 

The post Learning Contentment appeared first on Lara Howard.

We can define our God through the lens of our circumstance,
basing our view of Him on the happenings of our days.

Or we can define our circumstance through the lens of our God,
basing our view of life on who He has revealed Himself to be through His Word.

 
Only one of those leaves us standing on a firm foundation. Only one of those causes our soul to find strength regardless of the moment.

flickr photo credit: flood gondekowa

I walked through a short season of uncertainty over these past few weeks. After some abnormal tests, my doctor wanted to do a biopsy of my cervix to look for the big “C”. The day before the procedure my nurse called to ask if I had any final questions.

As I hung up the phone I passed a doctor’s office and on the marquee, in bright red letters, it screamed, “CERVICAL CANCER.” You’ve got to be kidding me.

By His grace the character of my God determined my reaction. And I started laughing.

My Father would not tell me that I had cervical cancer through a doctor’s marquee. He’s my Daddy. He’s tender towards His children. He’s not insensitive and mean. My soul stood there.

The next morning on my way to the appointment I passed that same doctor’s office. This time the sign read, “THANK YOU, GOD.” Coincidence? Nah.

We always have choice. We can define our God through our ever-changing circumstance. Or we can flip things around and define our circumstance through the character of our God. Only one leaves us standing. (And sometimes even laughing.)

Thankfully I don’t have to walk through the fire of cancer at this time in my life. But I pray for those who do. I pray we choose to see whatever life brings through the lens of our God. I pray that we dig deep, beyond our feelings, and believe Him to be who He’s revealed Himself to be. He remains faithful. He forever moves out of His relentless love. And He can be fully trusted.

 
Fill me, Lord…

What aspects of His character most comfort you regardless of the circumstance? 

The post the only view on life that leaves me standing appeared first on Lara Howard.

flickr photo credit: d. sharon pruitt

After a few days of waiting, her teacher announced the students’ parts last Friday in a letter home. I pulled the sheet out of her folder and read it out-loud, “Your child has been chosen to play the part of a…Christmas card.” A Christmas card? Her little, first-grade face dropped. And my heart clogged up my throat.

I went over and rubbed her hair, “I’m sorry, baby. I know you wanted to be the narrator.” She looked up at me, now with tears in her eyes. She didn’t say anything. She just let me hug her.

Once the tears dried, I asked her some of those questions I always ask myself when I face disappointment. Because we all know, disappointments continue to come.

“Tell me, baby girl, who’s in control?” God.

“And who loves you more than you could ever imagine?” God.

“So can we trust that somehow, someway He wants this for you?” Yes, mama. We can.

At bedtime I asked her again how she was doing. “I’m good. I’m excited about being a card now.” My soul smiled. We then planned our trip to the craft store for the next day where we were going to get a bunch of shiny stuff to make “the best Christmas card ever.”

After I tucked everyone in bed, I talked to my God. It grieves You when I’m disappointed, doesn’t it? You don’t enjoy seeing your children upset or hurt, do You? I didn’t think so. Thank you, Lord. Thank you, Daddy.

He knows us perfectly. He knows every single desire we have, even the ones we never voice. Some He placed there as we’ve delighted ourselves in Him. (Psalm 37:4) Others take up space out of our own selfish motives. But regardless, He knows. And He cares.

He does say “no” at times. Out of His infinite vision and perfect love, He closes some doors. But He can be fully trusted. Fully. Trusted.

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope. Jeremiah 29:11

When I picked up my daughter from school on Monday her teacher came to my window. “I’ve chosen Hailey to be one of the narrators for the Christmas play. I didn’t get a chance to put that in her folder on Friday, but she has to be a Christmas card in order to be this narrator.”

I looked back at my little girl beaming in the back seat.

Thank you, Lord.
Fill me, Lord…

Have you had to face disappointment lately? What has comforted you through that disappointment?

What truths about our God can we choose to meditate upon in the midst of disappointment?

The post for when we’re disappointed appeared first on Lara Howard.

Speaking to fellow believers he says, “Count it all joy when you fall into various trials…” (James 1:2) Do you see what I mean? Joy? Some trials are excruciatingly hot. Searing to the soul.

Then he goes on to say, “the testing of your faith produces patience.” (James 1:3) So these trials prove or refine our faith, in the end producing steadfastness in this journey. And according to James, something about that makes it worth the trials.

A tough thing to swallow when we’re the one in a valley.

flickr photo credit: lauren rushing

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving, in case you forgot. And I am thankful for all of the obvious blessings that mark my life. But what if we dared to dig deep — beneath those specific places that instigate the tears or fears — and cause thanks to rise up, regardless.

Being that James lived in the time of torturous martyrdom, I’m pretty sure he knew something. I think he knew that believing our God to be who He revealed Himself to be, regardless of the momentary trial, fulfills our human soul more than anything else in this created world ever could. No crack-smoking involved.

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for,
the evidence of things not seen.
For by it the elders obtained a good testimony…
And without faith it is impossible to please him, for whoever would draw near to God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him.
Hebrews 11:1-2, 6

I’m going to dig deep and dare to thank Him. Not for the trial itself — I mean, who likes the fire. No, I’m going to thank Him for what He’s graciously producing in me through the trial. Believing that the steadfast faith He ignites in my human soul makes it worth the momentary trials.

Fill me, Lord…

How has God proven your own faith through the trials of life?

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