Skip to main content

Oh for Stick-to-itiveness and Courage

There's a paragraph in A Long Obedience In The Same Direction by Eugene Peterson (which I have been away from for awhile, and came back to yesterday) where he talks about the not-so-fancy word: stick-to-it-iveness. He says his mom used to scold him for not possessing stick-to-itevness. He would leave various unfinished endeavors laying around and this drew his mother's reproof.

He and I share the same flaw.  I lack stick-to-itveness.  I would rather do sprints any day than run long distances.  And I have lots of what I think are great ideas; some that get started with gusto but soon stumble to a snail's pace or get abandoned altogether.  My blogs, artisan mayo, paleo meals, crocheting projects, jewelry making projects, exercise plans and many others are some such evidences of my lack of endurance and focus.  Spiritually, I fight with the power Christ supplies to stay on task and continue in my long obedience in the same direction by faith.  So when I press on in my marriage, in teaching my kids the gospel, in stretching to reach others, in saturating myself in the Word, in praying, in keeping my focus on Christ, in trusting in the unfailing promises of God, it's purely by the grace of God!

I purchased some books I'm very excited about.  God's Names by Sally Michael is one of them.  I started into it yesterday with the boys.  Tonight we did Elohim.  It brought a freshness to the discussion of God.  It provoked thought in them about the nature of God as our Creator.  I LOVE it!  Can't wait to get into it more.

Another is the Proverbs Journible from the Journible 17:18 Series.  I think it will be what I'll use to bring to fruition the idea I had for my other blog.  I'm really excited about it too... both for me and my boys.

I am not a risk taker.  I like safe.  I like stable.  I like security and comfort.  This is a problem for a Christian, and yet, even as I say that, it is the "not" that God calls "is".

For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth.But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong;God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are,so that no human being might boast in the presence of God.- 1 Corinthians 1:26-29

Being a Christian, I mean a real, Christ-lives-in-me woman, is not safe, and then again it's the most secure and safe of all.  It really depends on which eyes I look at my life with.  With my self-preserving, fallen eyes, being a Christian is dangerous and too risky.  With my fixed-on-Jesus-born-anew eyes, being a Christian is the most sure, guaranteed security and safety there is!

Oh that I would fix my eyes on Jesus, the Author and Finisher of my faith, and look straight past the opposition that will come, the suffering that is going to occur, the rejection that hurts, the questions I can't answer, the name-calling that stabs, to the joy set before me!

Oh to stand in the same room with evil, and the missed-the-marked-ness that holds up its protesting sign and brazen face, and lies, and stand.  Calmly.  Confidently.  Humbly.  Lovingly.  Willing to suffer.  Shining light.  Bringing truth.  Looking up.  Giving grace.  Showing mercy.  I'm ashamed that I would rather hide from it all.  Oh let me stand in the room with the hard things that don't like the answer the Savior gives and speak the truth in love with humility!  Give me grace to be courageous and bold and humble with happiness!


Popular posts from this blog

eyes on the Author- the every morning struggle to walk by faith

I don't wake up full of vision and motivation.  Actually, what motivates me most is the idea that my french press and single-origin coffee from Guatemala are just minutes away from awaking my senses with it's warm, toasty aroma.  And on those days when I get my stiff, puffy-eyed body out of bed and make my way to the cabinet to prep the press with my favorite coffee and find we're out, I feel great motivation to get dressed and drive to the local store so I can hurry up and get back home before too much time has passed and get my coffee going.

Basically, coffee motivates me to get up in the morning.

Mixed in the grogginess between eyes open and that first cup of coffee I remember who I am.

I am not my own.  I am a Christian.  The weight of meaning in that word falls on me like gravity on the fledgling attempts of a young eagle to fly every morning.

I feel myself falling.  Falling. Squawking out a cry, "Help!  Help Lord!  I am yours. Let me hear your loving kindness…

An Unlikely 23 Years

Wedding Day- Sept.4, 1993
Connor's birthday- April 1, 2003
During our first separation and pregnancy with Ryland- November 2004
Seeking a new start in Arizona all together- October 2005
 Second separation March 2010
Still together on a desert trail- Spring 2015
Today has been a tough day, emotionally.

Twenty three years ago today I made a vow before God and about 100 family and friends to take James as my husband, to have and to hold from that day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, till death do us part.

Those are some serious promises.  Better, worse, richer and poorer, sickness and health have all been part of these 23 years.  Honestly, most of it has been hard.  We weren't a very likely match at 19 and 21.  He from the big city, me from a small town.  His dad a pharmacist, mine a log truck driver.  We met in a child development class, taking pre-reqs for nursing.  He hated it.  I loved it.  He had long hair and torn jeans and l…

Burned chicken, my story and Israel

It's been an interesting day.

 I'm sitting here trying to get a hold on how I nearly burned down the covered patio by barbecuing bone-in chicken breasts while I planned and prepped other things in the kitchen. I know time can get away from me sometimes, but I tell ya I was in here for 30 minutes and I set the burners on low!

I probably shouldn't post today's attempt at making something real on my new recipe blog. Or maybe I should. Keeping it real. Real, even if it is burned, leads to trust.

Like standing in front of a congregation of missed-the-mark makers like me (many of whom I don't know), telling my charred story, knowing it'll be recorded, knowing my family will be listening. It's a burnt offering, my homologeo. A sum of all that I can put in appropriate words at this time offered up to the Refiner's fire who's been keeping me real through it all.

A very dear person to me asked why Jews and Christians don't agree about Jesus recently.…