On behalf of the team of writers at Just Living the Thing, we extend our sincere condolences to all who knew, loved, and mourn the violent deaths of singer Christina Grimmie, and all the victims of this morning’s mass shooting in Orlando.

“Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the 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 1:2-4

You are in our thoughts and earnest prayers for peace and comfort to overwhelm you.

Last week I was scheduled to have a procedure to correct an abnormality with my heart’s electrical system. I have been suffering with this issue for 6 ½ years and this procedure could cure it once and for all, no more daily medication needed.

Except, it was unsuccessful. The problem area was too close to an important heart structure and my doctor was uncomfortable with the location and terminated the procedure. I was disappointed, but felt at peace.

During recovery my symptoms totally subsided and I wondered if they would come back. Was I healed? Even though medically speaking the procedure had been unsuccessful? Arrhythmias often come and go with no real explanation.

I had been praying most of the day. I prayed during the procedure, I prayed in recovery, and now the thought that maybe I had been healed became the subject of my prayers.

One of my struggles with God is that I believe that He CAN heal me, but I don’t believe that he WILL heal ME. I think He will do it for others, but He won’t choose to do it for me.

As I prayed Mark 9:14-29 came to mind. The father of the boy begging Jesus to heal his son who was possessed by a demon from birth says,

“I do believe, help my unbelief.”

This phrase stuck in my mind and I kept repeating it over and over.

By the next day I still had no symptoms. Contrary to the doctor’s instructions I did not start back on my medications right away. I wanted to see if I really was healed. I even wrote in my journal the next morning about the possibility that I had been healed.

However, not long after that journal entry the palpitations and racing heart rate began again in their traditional fashion. Sigh.

Why?! What was all this for? Pain, discomfort, days off work, and stuck at home to recover? I didn’t want to process it all. I focused on my recovery and vegged out to movies and TV.

The time was right a few days later to sit down and talk it out with God.  My dream to be medication-free had been shattered. I asked God, “Why?!” But the thing about shattered dreams is sometimes we won’t know why.

Though I do believe God CAN heal me, I still struggle with unbelief; that He WILL do it for ME, but maybe that’s warped thinking. Maybe my belief needs to grow, not in Him healing me, but in knowing that His ways are always best, and that I can trust Him.

Of course in my mind being healed is best, but what do I know? He is the Sovereign Creator of the universe and I am but dust. He is mighty, holy, omniscient, omnipresent, faithful, loving and kind. I am His creation. He is still all these things even if He sees fit to allow this illness to continue. Lord, I do believe, help my unbelief…just living the thing.

A few weeks ago on a Friday night, I was home alone, watching Netflix, drinking wine, and eating popcorn – a classic single woman’s night in the man-desert. The only things missing were three cats and a pair of slippers. Anyway, on my second glass of wine I had a ‘fantastic idea’ to join a dating site for a month to see if there was anyone out there because to be honest, there has been no “Polo!” to my “Marco?” lately.

It’s embarrassing to admit because I’m afraid of what others will think, but after a heart-crushing breakup, I just needed to know there are real men out there, somewhere, anywhere. Next morning I woke up thinking,

“Oh no! What have I done?!”

But the deed was done, and the proof was on my credit card statement, so I decided to rock this new experience for 30 days.

I looked around the website, but found that my responses generally went like this: “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, HECK NO!” Ultimately, it became yet another place tempting me to find my identity in what others thought of me, my pictures, or my profile. Don’t get me wrong, my profile was awesome, and it felt great when I received alerts that someone was interested, but my phone was controlling me, and I hate that. I was beginning to find my worth in who or how many liked me.

But an online dating site isn’t the only place where we’re tempted to find our value in what people think of us, is it? I mean, getting your photo liked on Instagram is pretty gratifying, and having someone share what you said on Facebook can puff up your self-esteem, and don’t get me started on how desirable you can feel when an important Executive adds you to their LinkedIn list of acquaintances. There are so many ways we try to satisfy our need to feel valued, and very few of them require commitment or hard work. We want to feel valued quickly, without having to invest time in our character.

I’m reminded that my worth is determined by Jesus. Without Him, I am just another face in the billions. I am not Angela Merkel, Tina Fey, or Mother Theresa, and that acknowledgment actually brings me freedom. I don’t have to be on the cover of Sports Illustrated to matter. I am valuable because God created me. By giving me breath He says I matter to Him and I have a purpose.

There are a lot of verses I could put in here, but quite frankly, I’ve run out of space. So go read your Bible and find out what God wants to say to YOU. Because you ARE valuable, you just need to go to the right source to hear it. Sometimes living this thing means stepping back from people and media in order to hear what God is saying, and that’s what just living the thing means to me this week.

I have an input hangover.

Yesterday I searched and googled every possible option regarding a future decision and found advice and opinions out the wahzoo! By the end of the day I was overwhelmed and in need of an epiphany. Or a lobotomy. Or both.

This morning something occurred to me: why would I assume that God would speak to me through the voices of those around me rather than His own voice? Why do I allow social media, or culture, or “professionals” to take priority in determining His will, especially if I haven’t even asked Him?

If I don’t pray first, this wave of stress and inertia I’m riding is most likely contrary to what God is calling me to.

So today I’m not opening my IPad. Instead, I’m listening for His Voice. The most comforting passage I know is John 10 where the Shepherd leads the sheep off trail and into pasture, and I decide to just stop the madness and graze for a minute.

Here, Jesus promises rest. Not a nap, necessarily, (although that couldn’t hurt).

“When He puts forth all His own, He goes before them, and the sheep follow Him because THEY KNOW HIS VOICE.  And a STRANGER they simply will NOT follow, but will flee from him because they do not know the voice of strangers.” John 10:4-5

For me, following the Shepherd’s voice is an invitation to rest. He enables me to drop the plates He never asked me to spin, to take the world off my shoulders He never asked me to carry, and to ignore the fictitious people with their imaginary report cards ready to judge me for all the things I’m not doing well. When I tell all the voices in my head to be quiet, I realize they are insignificant nobodies who don’t even matter.

All that matters is what He says.

In this quiet space with Him I am reminded that prayer is a dialogue, not a duty. It is intimate conversation, not hurried confessions and pleas for help on the fly.  It’s not another thing on my to-do list, it is my to-do list.

As I sit in His presence, the veneer peels off to reveal most of my stress is borrowed worry from something that has not even happened yet, and probably won’t.

“Anxiety is that which divides and distracts the soul, that which diverts us from present duty to weary calculations of how to meet conditions that may never arrive.  It’s the habit of crossing bridges before we reach them.”  Linda Dillow, Calm My Anxious Heart

God’s voice frees me from the power of the voices of “strangers”. Unlike the conjecture of mere mortals, His wisdom is based on the fact that He actually knows everything. He is my guide, my provider, my understanding. I don’t need to search elsewhere. When He is in His rightful place in my soul, I find that elusive balance I have been chasing like the wind… just living the thing.

Growing up in church I was taught repeatedly that when you ask God for something, He usually gives one of three answers, “Yes”, “No”, or “Wait”.  However, in my 40+ years of living this thing I have experienced a couple other responses that continue to deepen my relationship with Him.

First I believe God sometimes answers me with a loving but firm, “Do it yourself.”  Too often I don’t recognize resources God has already given me that could be applied to my need, or I may know about them, but doggone it, I had other plans for that and I don’t want to change them!

For example, I had every intention of going to Jamaica this summer to support a project that is near and dear to my heart, a summer camp for boys who live in the inner city surrounded by poverty and extreme violence.  Then in short order I had to replace the microwave, stove, and water heater in my six-year-old house!

I was not happy, and felt even more discouraged when there was no supernatural or miraculous supply of extra money that would preserve the money for my trip, or my tiny savings, which were so meaningful and significant to me after years of financial struggle.

But I made a decision some years ago to not whine or complain when something like this happens because, first, “…His way is perfect…” (Psalm 18:30), and second, when the day comes and I step into eternity I’m going to know exactly why He made me use what I already had.  I would be soooooooo embarrassed to discover how perfectly God was loving me, while I was busy giving Him attitude.

I Kings 5:1-19 recounts the story of Naaman, “a great and honorable man”, who heard God could cure his leprosy.  He expected God’s prophet would “wave his hand over the place and heal the leprosy.”  Nope!  He was told to go dip himself seven times in the less-than-pristine (read nasty) river Jordan.  He was furious, but was eventually persuaded to get over his pride and “his flesh was restored like the flesh of a little child, …”

And speaking of pride, I really struggle when God answers, “Ask for help.”  Kill me now!  Aaaaahmmm, I am asking…God.  I’m asking you! Right?

It destroys my pride when I have to ask people for help.  I’ve had too many bad experiences where ‘help’ either comes with condescension, or expectations of reciprocation firmly attached, or the giver begins to ‘take liberties’.

More than anyone else we believers in Jesus Christ need to get giving and receiving right.  We must build honest, God-honoring, community where we can give generously without fear of being taken advantage of, and can ask for help respectfully and humbly without fear of “owing” something, or being stripped of our dignity.  Maybe practice does make perfect.

I cannot predict, define, or demand God’s answers to my prayers, but I absolutely know they will always be perfectly designed to help me,  …just living the thing.

Re-purposed.  The word makes me happy, giddy actually. It allows me to justify rescuing ‘treasures’ from the side of the road or from a farmer’s burn pile. It justifies my growing pile of birch branches and reclaimed wood that has taken over one corner of our yard.

It also makes me laugh because my husband cringes when he hears any word that starts with ‘Re-‘.  Tongue in cheek, he has forbidden me to bring home anything that needs to be Re-painted, Re-furbished, Re-done……you get the picture.  Nevertheless, I am constantly rescuing something that is ragged and useless for its original purpose, and trying to get Dave to envision the hidden beauty.

Seeing beauty in the broken and giving new life is the loving story of God’s redemption. When I sought the Lord He “repurposed” my life and gave me a new name. My name appropriately means wanderer but my new name, Child of God, means heir to the throne, daughter of the King. Where once my life was ragged and broken God turned it into something beautiful. Where once my life had no meaning, it now has purpose.

“He lifted me out of the pit of despair, out of the mud and the mire. He set my feet on solid ground and steadied me as I walked along.  He has given me a new song to sing, a hymn of praise to our God,…”         Psalm 40: 2-3a

When God redeems us He lifts us out of the pit and makes us a new creation. He cleans off the dirt and stains and sands down the rough edges. However, we can end up in that pit again; because of bad choices, or life circumstances that push us down that slippery slope.

I slid down that slope head first the day I was told I had stage 3 breast cancer.  It is impossible to bring glory to God from the pit so it’s not a place you want to hang your hat for long. Praise the Lord, He gave me a new song to sing and pulled me out;

“Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning.”  Psalm 30:5

 In the morning my fear was gone. My strength was renewed and I felt that “peace that passes understanding”. I knew my faith was being tested and strengthened. I knew that I could use my ordeal to bring glory to God and be a comfort to those who were traveling the same road behind me and just like that I had a new purpose.

Jeremiah 31:4 says, “Again I will build you and you will be rebuilt,”

I am thankful for a God that is “greater than our weakness, greater than our brokenness and big enough to bring beauty out of ashes.” from Repurposed by Colleen Fraioli

Cancer could have left me on the side of life’s road broken, ragged, and useless for my original purpose.  Instead, God has truly re-purposed me again to keep on… just living the thing.

Unless you’ve been living under a rock your whole life, you have had some dreams shatter; we all have. Exactly five years ago today one of my dreams shattered into a million pieces. My marriage of almost 20 years ended in a nanosecond, and with it hundreds of other dreams were also in pieces.

There are times in our lives when things don’t go the way we had planned. In those times we have choices. We can stay there and potentially get stuck in hurt, sorrow, resentment and pain, or we can trust that God knows what He is doing and has a plan for us in, and through the pain.

When my marriage ended I was in a state of shock and disbelief. Many dreams were shattered: growing old together, financial security, companionship, the prospect of being grandparents together. Five years later, after finishing college, I am working with women in crisis. Would I be doing this if I were still married? Probably not.

Cancer struck when I was 41 years-old and it was devastating!  The dream that I was a young, healthy woman was shattered. Five and a half years later, I am now working with cancer patients providing them with hope and encouragement. Would I be doing this if I had never had cancer? No!

I believe that we have dreams, desires, goals and such and God has dreams, desires, goals and such, for us; sometimes they are not one in the same. What I know is that what God has for me is so much greater than what I could ever imagine for myself. So, when a dream is shattered I have to ask myself, “Is there something else God has in mind?”

In his book, Shattered Dreams, Larry Crabb writes,

“There’s never a moment in all our lives, from the day we trusted Christ till the day we see Him, when God is not longing to bless us. At every moment, in every circumstance, God is doing us good. He never stops. It gives Him too much pleasure. God is not waiting to bless us after our troubles end. He is blessing us right now, in and trough those troubles. At this exact moment, He is giving us what He thinks is good.”

God has been faithful through these life-altering circumstances. He has shown me how to walk with Him in the midst of pain and heartache. He has walked right beside me every step of the way.

I don’t have some of the same dreams I had five years ago and to tell you the truth, I am not sure what the future holds, but I know it is bright. I know this because God holds my future. I may still dream things that may never come to fruition and I may still have my heart broken, but this one thing I know for sure: God’s got my best in mind so I don’t need to worry as I am…just living the thing.

Originally, I was going to write about contentment. Ah! It is something I struggle with regularly, but as I thought for a while, I realized what I wanted, no, needed to write about was friendship.

You see, tonight I had the hit show “Friends” playing in the background while I was doing my meal prep for the week. I kind of zoned out as I sliced and diced, but suddenly, I heard a line that jumped out at me. I felt like God highlighted something to me through the oh-so-wise Phoebe Buffet. It was the Christmas episode where Joey and Chandler both put off Christmas shopping until the last minute, and then couldn’t shop the day before Christmas because they were helping Phoebe with a personal crisis.

After the drama had concluded, it showed all the friends in the loft (my dream apartment) exchanging their gifts. That’s when it happened. Phoebe opened her gift from Joey and Chandler and shouted,

“Seat covers?! Awww guys… is this what you were doing when I was pumping the gas?!”

If you lived under a rock in the 90’s, then yes, she was referring to paper toilet seat covers. Her response was both ridiculous… and incredibly sweet. It wasn’t the gift she loved, it was who it came from. Her two friends spent the whole day and night helping her, and her innocent and simple response to their last minute “gift” was thankfulness and excitement.

The episode reminded me of when a few weeks ago, a sweet and thoughtful friend, sent flowers to me on a day she knew would be very difficult. I came home from a frustrating day, in the midst of heartbreak, to find beautiful flowers delivered on my doorstep. There was a note of kindness and a Bible verse attached that gave hope and reminded me that God loves and cares for me. Don’t get me wrong, the flowers were great, and unbeknownst to her, they were my favorite color, but it was the note and the gesture that brought me to thankful tears.

Small gestures or words of kindness from a friend can quickly change a heart from despair to thankfulness. It really doesn’t take much does it? A card in the mail, someone tagging you in an Instagram post because it made them think of you, going out for wine and cheese, babysitting, all things that are not big actions in the grand scheme of life, but isn’t it true these small tokens of friendship can mean so much to a tired heart? And isn’t it true that kinds words can refresh a weary soul?

I am so thankful for friends that invest in my life. I don’t want to live a life full of discontentment, something I battle daily.  I desire to live with thankfulness for what I have. And the friendships God has let me cultivate throughout the years are lifesaving, and life giving. So today I’m thanking God for friendships, and just living this thing…

I never consider myself a tourist when walking the beaches near Santa Cruz with my sister whose status as a ‘local’ I’ve always claimed…till one day last year.

Joy and I combed the beach for the usual; shells, driftwood, abandoned sandals in my size…perfectly content with the familiar routine. Content, that is, until we notice a few people totally engrossed in a hunt of some sort. Bent over in focused and deliberate swishing, and picking with intensity, like archeologists hovering over ancient ruins.

They were on to something big!  And, we realize, we are completely out of the loop. They have bags. We don’t have bags. Their bags hold treasures. Clueless, we ask what they are.

“Sea glass!” they chime incredulously, which to me sounded like:

“What?!  Are you from Modesto or something? Every local knows about sea glass!”

Ah, dearest sea glass, we didn’t realize we needed you or wanted you. We’ve walked right by, perhaps even stepped on you without a thought.  Till today, finding a sand dollar was as good as it gets. Now we realize we can’t live without you. You have forever changed the way we do life on this beach. All inferior pursuits must now move aside while we lose ourselves in procuring you for the next two hours…or more.

Just one year later, my eye is so acutely trained, I can spot sea glass with barely a glance. Sea glass identification is in my DNA, and I can even pick it up with the casualness of a local without screaming,

“I found one!”

I’m not trying to be being irreverent or even theologically accurate, but I think the Holy Spirit is like sea glass. So often, I walk by without even recognizing Him or considering He may have something to contribute to the day.

Labeled “the forgotten God” by some, I think He is perhaps the un-realized God. We don’t experience His involvement because we haven’t tasted His kindness in the routine moments of our lives. We don’t take Him into account when we are struggling in relationships, or battling temptation. We are used to doing life without Him, never tuning to that quiet voice full of wisdom and help.

Jesus said:

“…I will ask the Father, and He will give you another Helper, that He may be with you forever. That is the Spirit of truth whom the world cannot receive, because it does not behold Him or know Him, but you know Him because He abides with you and shall be in you” John 14:16-17

The thing is, I do know Him. And it is His role to help me. Too often I rely on my limited understanding, content with familiar routines until I stop and consider Him. When I remember He actually lives inside as my personal treasure, ready to dispense all truth and peace, I get to put Him in my pocket and take Him with me. You might say He is the true local, and I’m just living the thing.

Almost 18 years ago I broke a vow I made before God, “to have and to hold…till death do us part.”  Divorce is a horrible thing, and I believe God hates it not just because breaking any vow is sin, but because of the havoc and destruction it wreaks on people who He did not intend to experience such suffering.

However, after counseling failed to produce change, and seriously contemplating-to-the-point-of-actually-planning suicide, I had no faith left that God would help me.  In my vulnerable state, and messed-up mind, I believed that I must have offended or failed God in some way so egregious, a failed marriage was just one consequence I would have to suffer.

Owning my failure, and believing the lies, I stoically accepted that God was done with me, and set about salvaging what life I could for myself and the children, who were my only reasons to keep living.

Today I’m free from the prison of lies, and healed from the deep emotional wounds that made me so broken and dysfunctional.  I am “…a big cup of wonderful, covered in awesome sauce, with a splash of sassy, and a dash of crazy!”  However, I’m also a divorced woman in the church, and that dubious status comes with its own unique set of challenges.

I am often three- or fifth-wheeling it.  Most in my inner circle of friends are still married, so except for our all-girl adventures, I’ve had to adjust to being the odd number when we go co-ed.  I am very careful to demonstrate my respect for their marriages though.  I am rarely, if ever, alone with my friends’ husbands, and if I need help from one of the guys, I ask his wife first.

Not so easy is listening to preaching that implies ‘divorce’ might be the ‘unpardonable sin’ at worst, or the ultimate failure at best.  (Please collect your scarlet letter ‘D’ at the door.)  I met with one pastor when I was still struggling to believe that God hadn’t rejected or abandoned me.  The FIRST thing he said was, “You know you can’t ever get married again while your ex-husband is alive, right?”  I barely believed that God loved me, but he thought remarriage was my biggest issue?!

And speaking of remarriage, lately that desire has literally risen from the dead in my heart, and the usual antidote of episodes of Dateline where the husband did it, is not working.  I’ve been so busy with kids, work, home, ministry, and letting God fix me, I’ve not even been on a date in 18 years!

Plus, the horror stories! Singles groups that are ‘churchified’ marriage/remarriage marketplaces”, on-line dating that works for one in a hundred…thousand?, the temptation to choose someone who does not share my faith out of sheer desperation.  Yikes!

“The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me; your steadfast love, O Lord, endures forever…” Psalms 138:8a

Whatever God’s plan for me post-divorce, I know I’m free, forgiven, perfectly loved, and just living the thing.