I was about 20 years old and prayerfully considering a major change in my life. It required uprooting myself from my church community and I felt torn. Deep in my soul, I felt torn. I regularly spent a great deal of time in the word and in prayer and in worship. But this possibility of change was confusing to me; I was torn between what I interpreted as following my father and what I interpreted as abandoning my faith community.
I was crushed. Confused. Afraid I’d make the wrong choice.
In my prayers, I sought direction and wisdom. I clung to the Bible for insight. I spoke with a close friend about the situation. I didn’t know what to do.
And in prayer one evening, I opened up my Bible at random while in anguish before the Lord. And there it was: Jeremiah 42.10.
If you stay in this land, I will build you up and not tear you down; I will plant you and not uproot you, for I have relented concerning the disaster I have inflicted on you.
Now, I don’t recommend that you regularly look for God to speak to you through a verse you randomly open up to and point to. God definitely works this way sometimes, but it’s not an effective way to structure a regular approach to getting to know God through scripture. But this one time, it was truly God’s sovereignty
In that moment–in that instance, this was the exact direction I was looking for, at least on the surface. I took the directions literally, but the verse has stuck with me since that moment.
In that specific petition, Jesus spoke to me to stay in my current body of believers. Does that mean I’m still with that community? I’m not. He led me somewhere else eventually.
While, in that moment, the verse meant clinging to a community of believers, now, the verse plays a role of reminding me that I will be completely fine if I remain in Him. If I continue to make Him my central focus and source of security and safety.
In Context
Now, I’m not a fan of taking verses out of context. This verse is found in the midst of a story, not an isolated command for all believers. Sometimes, God calls us to move. In this instance, God called me to stay put. Later, I did move. It just wasn’t his timing at that specific place in my life.
But God was telling the Israelites to stay put. They were begging and pleading for Jeremiah to ask God what to do and promised that they would do exactly what God instructed them. Ready for a spoiler alert? They broke that promise and suffered consequences for it. (They were kinda notorious for doing this; I am, too.)
More recently, the last part of that verse has spoken to me more than ever. I used to always sort of ignore that part of the verse. But while someone was praying for me out loud, they said that Jesus knows the pains I’ve gone through and mourns that I’ve experienced so much pain. (And this is true for you, too.)
He knows how rare it is for someone like me to be continuing in my dedication to Him. How amazing is it that the God of the universe, the creator of all things, cares and is saddened by what I’ve gone through!? To me, it’s both humbling and terrifying. It’s almost unbelievable. Except I have decades of experience: I can’t help but believe it.
Just for you:
Friend, if you’ve gone through the ringer and can’t imagine if or why you should even try again, lean in to Jesus. He knows that pain; He has experienced it. It’s real and moving forward doesn’t mean it wasn’t. Pray for His healing of your heart and for courage to let go of the pain. He heals. He will recover you.
Stay in Him and see His work in you. You’ll be like me: Can’t believe it but can’t help but believe it. And PM me on Instagram; let me know if this is a process you’re working through. Love-you-mean-it.
Even many Christians don’t spend much time thinking about the Gospel. I’ve been one of those Christians before. It’s sad because sharing the Gospel is the single most important action we can take as Christians. It can be intimidating; or maybe we don’t even exactly know how to articulate the Gospel. Like, what is it and how do I share it? Well, we don’t have to be afraid we’ll sound like an old purse-clutching, lace-collared woman when we share the Gospel. It’s really very simple. (Read: Simple does not mean easy. They are not the same.)
Have issues with other topics related to Christianity? They’re all second- or third-level issues–maybe even less important than that. Hate hypocrites? They’re not exclusive to Christianity; I promise you that. Disagree with how any particular Christian has treated you? You don’t have to act like them; they fail, too. Seems too easy? Well, no. It’s simple, but not easy. There’s a difference. Too good to be true? I agree! Gosh, I can’t believe something as simple as believing in Jesus saves me from unending punishment.
I’m not that bad, though.
I’ve found that one of the biggest complaints people have about Christianity is they don’t think they’re “bad enough” to go to Hell or that they can just do some good things to make up for the bad things they’ve done. But here’s the thing about sin: even a teensy weensy bit of sin is enough to separate us from God. And since we’re born with it, we’re going to have more than a teensy weensy bit of sin in us. And even if we did have a teensy weensy bit of sin in us, I’ve got an analogy for you: If I offer you an icy-cold glass of lemonade on a steaming hot day, you’d probably be up for that, right? Well, if I put even the teensy weensiest amount of, um, well, poop in it… would you want it then? Would you happily gulp it down, click your tongue from the top of your mouth and sigh from relief? Nope. I highly doubt you would. Anyone who understands what poop is would be offended at that offer! That’s how our teensy weensy bit of sin is in the grand scheme of our life. We cannot be made justified without Jesus’ saving work removing every bit of contamination; He died just to make that possible!
DNA
We’re sinners not because of our actions but because we’re born from sinners who were born from sinners who were born from sinners… I think you get the point. It’s just in our DNA. Even the sweetest unbeliever among us has at least a teensy weensy bit of sin in us. And there’s a solution for the problem. When we believe in Jesus, we are saved, changed–not because of our actions, but because of Jesus.
I believed in Jesus in 1996, when I repented–asked for forgiveness and changed directions in my life. I was at church camp and had never realized that Jesus also died for me–not just old ladies with beehive hairdos or drunks and druggies who needed Jesus to save them from their wicked ways. I grew up in a Christian home. My dad was a lay pastor/preacher (meaning, he had a full-time job and also served the church for a heaping amount of hours each week) for most of my childhood.
But I was surrounded by old people and didn’t know that anyone my age–twelve–were Christians. But, boy, were there a ton of Christians at church camp! So, I believed in Jesus because I realized that He died for me, too, not just the people who seemed hopeless in my eyes. Believing in Him is the single best decision I ever made in my life. And nothing can usurp that place.
It Happened
During the year I turned 16, my family fell victim to blackballing. My dad was serving in the church where he met Jesus as a young adult and where I’d pretty much always called my church home. When I tell you it was brutal, that’s not the half of it, especially for me. I was at the age where I knew we’d been betrayed.
And, as a daddy’s girl, I was crushed that our closest friends had hurt and betrayed my dad. It was the first time I ever saw him cry. It was messy and painful. My faith in God was steadfast, but I was wounded deeply by the church, a place I thought was a safe place. A horse with four broken legs is usually put out of its misery; I, however, had no option but to press on.
Healing has been a long journey and scars from that experience are regular reminders of the pain caused by my own brothers and sisters in Christ.
A horse with four broken legs is usually put out of its misery.
The biggest step of healing and recovering was miraculous and instantaneous.
The weekend after I met the man I now call The Hunk, I attended a women’s Bible study at my church. Against all odds, I still attended church; I still believed in Jesus and desperately wanted to heal, but it had been 8 years since my world was rocked. During our Bible study meeting, a wise woman said something along the lines of, “Sometimes God just wants us to be willing to forgive and He’ll do the rest.” I remember thinking, “Well, God, I want to forgive the ones who hurt my family.” I moved on and kinda forgot about all of it. Until I was on my way home.
Book-Shaka-Laka
If ever there was a boom-shaka-laka, this was it! I wasn’t in prayer or even thinking about Bible study. I was point-three miles from my exit and I literally felt–as real as anything I have ever felt in my entire life–literally felt Jesus remove every speck of bitterness and unforgiveness from my heart. It happened quickly and was the biggest relief of my life. Y’all, there was a-stinking-lot of it. If you’ve ever worked in fast food and had to clean out the bottom of the fryer, you’ve seen the kind of gunk Jesus removed from my heart. Unforgiveness, friends, breeds bitterness. And bitterness is just disgusting gunk that settles in the bottom of the heart. I didn’t know how bad it was until it was gone. And I was new. So. New.
It’s a good thing God healed my heart because, as I said, I married the man I’d just met. And he’s a minister–a church planter and executive pastor. Without that healing, I absolutely would not be married to him. There wouldn’t have been room in my heart to love him. And marrying him is the second most important decision I’ve ever made in my life. Hands down.
Since then, I’ve had rough times and good times and medium times. But through it all, Christ has been with me, teaching me, protecting me, and always loving me.
Recent Comments