What caused this back problem? Well me mostly. On waking up from a minor twinge I decided to do some exercises to make myself feel better. Even though there was a minor cautionary twinge of pain as I began this exercise, I continued with determination.

I’m not a wimp. I want this to get better.

But..it turns out that I accidentally did the opposite of the types of exercises that I actually should have been doing. Oops!

I had diligently made myself worse. A lot worse. There’s got to be some sort of a lesson there.

Later that morning as I was dressing, I was drawn to a particular scarf. It’s a scarf with a picture of a hummingbird on it, designed by Kwakwaka’wakw artist, Francis Dick.

I felt God nudging me to wear the scarf. I wasn’t sure why. It didn’t perfectly go with my outfit, to be honest. But I obeyed. I felt God whispering to research the hummingbird.

It turns out the hummingbird isn’t mentioned in the Bible. A quick Google search mentioned that in some Native American cultures, the hummingbird is symbolic of healing.

I sensed Holy Spirit whispering to me do you want to be healed? That question reminded me of something Jesus said:

When Jesus saw him stretched out by the pool and knew how long he had been there, he said, “Do you want to get well?” The Message

I found my heart convicted by this question.

Had I gone to Jesus with my questions about how to get better from this recent back struggle? Did my energetic self-help approach effectively say, “No thanks, I’ve got this. Thanks anyway Jesus!” Did I make a much bigger mess of my situation in my effort to make things better?

I can never seem to remember to maintain proper posture. Although God has been speaking to me of this for years, as has my physiotherapist, as a root of many of these back issues- I CAN’T REMEMBER OK?!

I was looking for an easier solution – a quick fix. But Jesus had a spiritual lesson to teach me as well. Would I submit to grow in the simple discipline of remembering Jesus throughout my day, even as I learn to hold my posture throughout the day? Will I remember Jesus when things are going well? Will I remember to have good posture even when my back is doing well? Will physical healing come from spiritual healing?

And therein lies my hope. Even through this difficulty, You are teaching me to soar (Ha! Soar was autocorrected to sore! Not sore! Soar!).

Three gifts that we can receive from God in exchange for our suffering will be discussed in the next post.

Jesus, thank You that You ask us the questions that invite You deeper into our lives. Help us to open the door that You are knocking on, and not to push You aside again, with our knowledge, and energetic efforts at self-improvement. Teach us to come to You, as a small child runs to their parents in distress, I pray.

After a moment of thanksgiving, press into the quiet and ask Jesus, how have I been pushing You away and doing my own thing? What is the next step I can take to learn to lean on Your strong arm as I walk this path before me, Father?

I very embarrassingly told you in the last post that I feel like a mouse a lot of the time. Just forget I said that. What I meant to say is that I am a strong and brave little mouse.

At least I am becoming braver, I mean.

Here’s why.

Don’t panic. I’m with you. There’s no need to fear for I’m your God. I’ll give you strength. I’ll help you. I’ll hold you steady, keep a firm grip on you. The Message

Three reasons why we should let go of fear and embrace strength instead are (1) We are not alone. (2) We have help. (3) We are on the winning team.

We are not alone in our suffering. Every single human that we brush shoulders with on the subway, invite into our home, or see on TV is suffering, will be suffering, or has suffered. God allows this. To suffer is to be human. Can we trust that as we lean on God for help in our suffering, He will transform even this, and He is making us stronger?

Have you ever seen a bird peck out of its first home, the shell? It is agonizing for humans to watch. We could help them, which would take only a second of our time. But for the little chicks, it takes hours of exhausting struggle. But when people help little chicks by opening the shell at the first peck, the little chicks died. Every one. The struggle made them stronger.

Secondly, we have help. God has helped me several times to avoid difficult circumstances or keep me safe. I can share some of those stories another time. But stories of God‘s providence, of guiding the saints around difficult challenges, both biblically, and from accounts that have surfaced from the saints of previous generations, speak as a testimony to this guidance, that sometimes God provides.

Sometimes he helps us by calming us instead of the storm. This has been a testimony in my life as well. His presence calms us even as the presence of a parent calms a child undergoing a medical procedure. He is the Father of all comfort. Here’s an example from my life.

What does it mean to be on the winning team? Christians are the most persecuted religious group of people on the planet.

When my daughter was in middle school she enjoyed gymnastics for a year or two. She was in a group with many girls who had been doing competitive gymnastics for a decade. One day there was a show for all these kids to show off their skills. My daughter’s somersaults could not compare with the backflips and front handsprings that the winning competitors were displaying, to our delight.

And yet, after the show, our daughter was the only one who ran up to the gymnastics coaches and hugged each one. She wanted to say thank you. She was on the winning team. Similarly, despite what it seems, God’s kingdom is breaking in every time we bow the knee to Jesus, and ask him to lead us, despite our fear. In this way, we are always on the winning team. It’s just that we are on a different team than the ones the world can see.

So carry on dear fellow warrior mice!

We can choose to let go of fear and embrace the One who will strengthen us as we lean on Him and ask for His help and guidance.

In the quiet and stillness, ask God: What may I not be reaching for, that you are calling me to, because of fear? What is the next step? Will you help me, so we can take this next step into what you are calling me to, together?

I am a mouse. A shell of myself. I cower in the corner, afraid of strange noises. Oh! It is only you! I straighten out my uniform, and hold my sword aloft. I am Reepicheep, the great mouse warrior from The Chronicles of Narnia.

At least, I am when you are looking. When you are gone, and your shadow and creaking noises of the floor when you walk have faded, I retreat into my mouse hole. Sword – where is it now? Somewhere on the floor. My uniform is disheveled. Fear grips me again.

No! The kind man bends down and puts his face closer to the mouse hole, urging me to pick up my sword, gently encouraging me to be ready. I step closer. His eyes draw me.

My sword is the size of his thumbnail. Hold it, He urges, acceptance of me oozing from his eyes. His warm breath close to me makes me stronger.

Yes! I am Reepicheep the mouse! I feel bolder, stronger. He stands next to my mouse hole, keeping guard with me. He shows me how to use a sword and I mimic his movements.

Keep the sword out, He warns me. Always have your sword nearby. Be watchful. Be ready.

And I feel bolder, stronger now. The sword helps me to remember whose I am. His presence, though so large, I can barely see his feet, helps me to be stronger, to place my head feather straight, to be alert. I can sense his love, though I sometimes forget He is nearby. He is so large that I don’t see Him clearly.

Crumbs of delectable cheese are thrown from His hand into my mouse home. I rest and eat, feeling stronger.

I am ready now, to be whose I am.

I choose to meditate on what He says about me, on the cheese thrown into my hole because with each bite, I am being transformed into a whole new little mouse. And I don’t have to be afraid anymore. His cheese changes who I am, from scaredy mouse to Reepicheep the brave.

What cheese has He tossed your way that strengthens you when you feel afraid? How has His presence made you stronger than fear? What motivates you to feast on His word?

Be prepared. You’re up against far more than you can handle on your own. Take all the help you can get, every weapon God has issued, so that when it’s all over but the shouting you’ll still be on your feet. . . God’s Word is an indispensable weapon. . . Keep your eyes open. Keep each other’s spirits up so that no one falls behind or drops out. The Message

May our fear be turned to dancing as we hold our swords aloft, and remember that He is near!

For now, ask Him what food would nourish your soul today, which word fallen from His mouth will transform your identity, into a brave little mouse. Will you feast on that piece of cheese today, remember His presence, and gain strength as you hold your sword aloft, remembering whose you are? May you be brave, another little Reepicheep, again this day, dear friend!

Three reasons why we should let go of our fear and embrace strength instead will be discussed in the next post.

What if we fight the very thing that sets us free?

What if our truest selves emerge after giving up who we already are?

What if we all have the metaphorical equivalent of a big playground slide in our lives (Stay with me)? You know how, as a kid, we all loved to go down the slide?

Didn’t we all line up, paying the price of time at the water park standing on some stairs, for the opportunity of a few seconds on the slide? But what if, when we were at the top of the slide, the slide shifted direction, so we never knew where we would end up? How many kids would want to get on that slide?

Likely none, right? What if we ended up somewhere we don’t want to go? What if the other end of the slide is us in our room, doing homework? Sure, the slide is fun, but why risk it?

But what if figuring out who we are is a bit like going down a slide, a slide that changes direction, and we have no idea where we will end up?

How likely would any of us be to want to go down a slide like that? And yet this is exactly what God promises us when He says that we will be free indeed. He promises us no long-term vision, most of the time. Only a fun time hanging out at the water park with Him. What do I mean? Here’s my story, shortened.

I rolled my dice in college to choose my career. Well, almost. I used my brain, calling the college to ask what careers people held after graduation. But I didn’t ask God to guide me. I had no context for this at that time. Twenty years later, I sensed God saying, that had I asked, and no condemnation that I didn’t, He would have guided me into a different career.

Randomly, it seemed, when I first learned about hearing from God, He spoke to me about me being a writer. This felt surprising, strange. I didn’t study writing at University, I studied Resource Management. This jump across the river was much farther than I could leap on my own strength. Try as I could, I could see no bridge to get to the other side. Failing at something I don’t have training for seems much more likely than failing at what I can already do. And perhaps the biggest obstacle of all, was the question, who would I become if I attempt to cross to the other side?

Is the Lord calling you away from the old and into a new thing? Has He told you to do something that you don’t have the training for? Thus, culturally, is this something that you feel you shouldn’t do? Will you obey anyway? Are you brave enough, yet, dear friend, to travel down your slide?

Then Amaziah, sent orders to Amos: “Get out of here! . . . “ But Amos replied, “I’m not a professional prophet, and I was never trained to be one. I’m just a shepherd, and I take care of sycamore-fig trees. But the Lord called me away from my flock and told me, ‘Go and prophesy to my people in Israel.’ Now then, listen to this message from the Lord . . . The Message

Yes! On PURPOSE I pressed the “like” button on my own previous blog post, to “like” my own post! Now, before you throw rotten tomatoes at me and throw me off the internet, watching me spiral away like a free-floating astronaut, hear me out!

We agree that we are ALL dorks, right? (If not see HERE).

But being a dork is part of our superpower. Instead of the big “S” for “Superperson” on our superhero costumes, we could all have a big “D” for “Dork”. Because that dork-i-ness also contributes to our awesomeness.

We know who we are.

So we can relax!

We no longer have to spew boasts describing ever so covertly our successes, in attempts to impress people.

And this is freedom.

Maybe we didn’t find gold stars all over ourselves when we dressed this morning. Or perhaps our stars have rusted and fallen off (Does NO ONE care anymore about my gymnastics award in Grade 7??)

So we can, in our rags, pat another on the shoulder with love to encourage them, even in our brokenness.

And we can “like” ourselves too because we are just little bundles of love, dressed up in whatever old rags we could find as we wandered through life. And love is enough!

So, if you don’t have any gold stars that our culture handed out, or if you were late for the lineup for these accolades, don’t worry! The stars wouldn’t stick to our old rags anyway.

If we find we do have stars, tearing them off is still the way to true freedom. Because in the dark of night, just before we fall asleep, our esoteric anxiety startles us for a moment with “What AM I doing on planet earth??” In those moments gold stars don’t satisfy us.

All of us now stand together, either not having been given any cultural gold stars or having thrown them away because they won’t stick to the REALLY tough questions. And what’s next?

Let’s stand in a circle and … sing. Yes, sing.

We sing praises to the one who IS the standard of the world’s excellence. We look in wonder at Jesus Christ and find that as we gaze at the One who is truly excellent, our clothing changes too, from old rags to robes of radiance. He is pleased with us.

And so you should be too.

“Like” yourself.

Like your own posts.

Whenever, though, [we] turn to face God . . . we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him. The Message

Jesus, help us to see ourselves the way you see us, both in our true brokenness before we turn to you, and in our glorious attire, as we fix our eyes on Your beauty. Help us to “like” who we are becoming by Your grace, we pray. In the quiet and stillness, ask God: How do You see me? Should I like myself?

If you wonder if God likes you, and therefore if you should like yourself, read on.

I was drowning. I grasped my throat. This didn’t help me breathe. I waved my arms desperately, but the surface of the water was floating higher above me. I was sinking.

I didn’t know how to swim. No one had taught me how.

I was thrown into the deep end of Christianity.

I started like most people, dipping my toes in the waters of the ocean on a sunny warm day. I splashed with my feet, enjoying the cool drops of water and the fun with the other kids.

On a brave day, I waded into the ocean up to my knees. Now I was a real Christian, I knew. I was baptized there. I stayed in the knee-deep water with everyone else I knew for decades. I was happy.

And then God pushed me headfirst into the deep end of the pool. There were four different workshop choices at the conference and I knew that God was asking me to attend the “Holy Spirit” stream. Whaaattt? That grated against my expectations of who I was. I was a RESPECTABLE Christian, the one who attend the ACADEMIC stream at the workshop.

I obeyed and well – Holy Spirit stuff happened to me. Perhaps that is for another blog post. When I know you better. A LOT better. I came out of that workshop grumpy and glared at my friend. He laughed, seeing my face, as he knew I didn’t even want to be there. I was NOT one of THOSE types of weird Christians. Well, maybe now I was. I was not happy. What was that even FOR or ABOUT, God?

I saw the leader of the workshop later. “God was behind that experience,” He reminded me, gently.

The box that I had put God in had shattered.

And who am I now, I wondered?

In retrospect, after God threw me into the deep end of the pool, He was treading water right next to me. I reached for Him and He caught me. “Whoa – what was that experience at the workshop even about?” I asked.

I am not who you think I am, He began.

Will you walk with me on a journey, friend, to discover who I REALLY am, and also who you REALLY are?

And so our journey began.

If you also are thirsty for more, if you are scratching your throat because it is dry and parched, and no water is coming to quench your thirst, then read on, and perhaps you will find signs pointing you to the right road for your journey, the one that leads you further and further into the heart of Jesus.

Because once you learn to swim, you’ll find that the deep waters aren’t as scary as they look. In fact, no other way of living could be half as exhilarating.

Come, friend. The ocean is beckoning.

Are you ready to walk into deeper waters with me? I’ve got your hand. If we lay aside the stuff that we can’t swim with – our backpacks, boots, and fear – we will find the adventure of a lifetime.

He walked to the east with a measuring tape and measured off fifteen hundred feet, leading me through water that was ankle-deep. He measured off another fifteen hundred feet, leading me through water that was knee-deep. He measured off another fifteen hundred feet, leading me through water waist-deep. He measured off another fifteen hundred feet. By now it was a river over my head, water to swim in, water no one could possibly walk through. The Message

God help us to take hold of your hand, and to walk deeper with You, from ankle deep, to knee-deep to waist deep to over our head of the knowledge of who You really are, and of who You made us to be. Pause for a moment and reflect, what fears would you need to lay aside to walk deeper into the things of God?

I was sitting on the floor, my head resting against the wall, a cloud of overwhelm threatening to suffocate me. Time to get up, stand up, and put one foot in front of the other. What’s the next step? Less. The next step is less.

Jesus led me by the hand, me leaning on Him like a cane, to the big recliner chair. “Sit,” he motioned kindly. He brought me a cup of tea and sat down next to me, leaning forward, ready to listen, when the words to speak finally came. Like a good friend. So I began.

I began with tears and then with thumping my fist in anger. He brought me a Kleenex and listened attentively to my outburst. “It’s going to be okay,” He whispered as He embraced me in His invisible, tangible love. I saw tears in His eyes too when mine were moist. And I could see in His eyes that the anger in Him against my injustice was greater than the anger I felt. 

He lives with an ocean of pain, an ocean of righteous anger, an ocean of love. The tip of the iceberg of His emotions is reflected in His eyes, as his eyes mirror our own. Our eyes are like black-and-white versions of emotion, while His eyes are too vivacious in bright colors to look at for more than an instant. 

The depth of His understanding of whatever we are going through is like mining through the infinite core of His soul, where His pain resides. We see but a few grains of sand from this excavation on the surface, through the compassion of His eyes. His eyes understand me. And so, because I am loved by the One who understands me, and because He will be right beside me again today, his hands even now on my arm, urging me to stand, I can take the next step.

I lean against His arm, all day, again, lest I should fall. He guides me, showing me what can remain undone today, and what plants need watering. Who will stumble across my path who needs love today? I can comfort her because I have been comforted by the Greatest Comforter. I take another step, feeling stronger. Lord, help me to pour out Your love on a thirsty world, yet again today.

I see you! Yes, you, there on the couch, your hair disheveled, clothes could use a freshening up. I see your toddlers running circles next to you around the living room table, puzzle pieces falling as they run past. The dog eats another puzzle piece.

And you? Staring straight ahead, comatose. Homeschooling hasn’t turned out the way you thought it would. Where is my inner Mary Poppins, you ask yourself? Didn’t you too, like the rest of us, think you would open your bag of magical homeschooling tricks, and the kids would gasp, enthralled, as they watched, listened, wrote, helped clean up, and dutifully struggled, erased, and then redid their math problems?

We thought we would sit by and watch as their brains grew bigger, didn’t we? We thought we would have tea with another homeschooling Mom, like CEOs of a big company. We would be well dressed, with a notepad and pen, putting our heads together to help each other solve the challenges confronting our homeschooled kids. No problem. We’ve got this, we would think. We can handle it.

Instead, real life has overwhelmed us. Did anyone tell you that a smear of jam would be next to every light switch and in random places on the wall? (Or toothpaste in our home… “Why???” I pleaded with my daughter.). Did you think that you actually wouldn’t care? That your cleaning skills would be on the level of ensuring that all of the dog vomit is cleaned up, but apart from that, anything goes? (I actually have a dog vomit not cleaned up story(!!!) but that one is for when I know you better. A lot better.)

Anyway, hi Mom, it’s me! And, no, unfortunately for you, I am not super homeschooling Mom here to help out. I’m just here to put my arm around you and to say, “Well done. Keep on in the trenches.” Because not many or perhaps no one is saying that to you. My pockets are empty of tricks and tips that can actually help you. But the internet is full of amazing opportunities for wonderful, real-life superhero homeschooling moms (they don’t actually exist but don’t tell them that- it would ruin their Facebook ratings) to help you when you are strong enough, again, to pull yourself off the couch.

But for now, I put my arm around you, as you weep, dear homeschooling Mom, because not long ago, I was you. I didn’t always have someone to encourage me, either. Nothing to offer, just a shoulder to cry on, and someone to pass you a box of Kleenex. And when you have let go of the expectations that you had for yourself and for your kids, then the fun of homeschooling really begins. Now, let’s get up off the couch, shall we? I have a few stories to encourage you.

I’m NOT planning to actually be useful to you, remember. But just to help you stand up while leaning on my arm. And then to help you to take the very next step. You’ll be running again. I promise. But what you are running towards may be very different from what you expected. It turns out that this homeschooling gig isn’t just about your kids. It’s time for you to get a makeover, too.

A spiritual makeover. You ready? Ok, let’s take the first step, together. Wait – is your dog vomiting? No problem. I’ve been there too. Let’s clean it up, together, and then figure out the next step we need to take. I’ve got your arm. Come on, Mom. Time to get up off the couch. No need to feel like you are alone. There’s a whole bunch of us, and we all have been in exactly your position not long ago. Come on!

“But what happens when we live God’s way? . . . We develop a willingness to stick with things . . .” The Message

Thank you Lord that we can be honest with our exhaustion and discouragement, together. Lord would you help us to hand our friends a coffee and the cup of love that always accompanies your presence. Help them to stand, to run again, Lord, completing the good purposes that You have for each of us to do, we pray. Help us Lord to stick with this calling until we have finished the race that You have asked us to complete. Oh, and transform us, we pray.