What does the end of your day look like?

In this season of life, the end of my day usually involves me flopping down like a sack of potatoes into my favorite chair, closing my eyes, and partaking in the “Sinisi Sigh.” You know. The deep breath you take and then release loudly, as if the sound will somehow rejuvenate you. Sometimes my husband will join me, and we will be laying in our living room like two slugs, not moving, but trying to outdo the other with our loud exhaled breathes.

Have you ever stretched out in a park on a blanket or in your backyard and stared at the sky? Maybe you have taken a hike and found a plateau where you can sit and take in the scenery around you. If the weather permits and gives clear skies, you can sit and watch the clouds. Have you noticed how much peace there is in sitting in the midst of nature? No music and chatting and running around, but the comfort of stillness surrounding you. Rather you are staring at the sky or looking over the mountains or captured by the beauty of the sea, there is a sense of peace.

This earthly world glorifies the art of being busy. The more you cram into every day of your life, the better. We are praised for doing things faster, more efficiently. Women often exhaust themselves trying to “do it all”. But, humans were never designed to operate like this. God did not design us to walk through life constantly anxious, busy, and stressed for time. So, He created a key element that revives us: rest. Biblical rest.

The first instance of rest in the Bible involves God himself in Genesis Chapter 2:1 &2 ESV “Thus the heavens and the earth were finished, and all the host of them. And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done.”. So, there it is: your permission to rest. If God rested, you can, too!

We live in a culture that values productivity and busyness. The more activities that we have on the calendar, the better. We have truly mastered the glorification of busyness. We value checking things off a list and seeing what we can accomplish in a day. Can you relate? I’m really good at being productive. I love to get things done and to have something to show for my efforts. It feels good, and in a twisted way makes me feel like I’m worthy of something. When our worth is tied to our accomplishments and the activities, we are involved in we are headed down a slippery slope.

Maybe, like me, your joy died over the past year. Maybe you felt misery, depression, or despondency. Maybe all of these things to one degree or another. Maybe you’ve felt like you were being tested and you wanted to give up. Sister, I’m here to tell you there is a better way!

We’ve all heard those clichés about wearing rose-colored glasses. We tend to use that phrase to describe people who are cheery, upbeat, and generally optimistic. But finding joy in life is less about your personality dimensions and more about your heart’s intentions.

The last time I ordered sunglasses online, there were upward of 25 different tint options. Although I had absolutely no idea so many shades existed, we don’t need more options to block out light…in fact, we need fewer. No matter what we are going through, God is always there to revive our joy and carry us through it. But sometimes we get so busy focusing on the struggle, we forget about Him. We allow all that dark to block out His light.

There are similar yet separate expectations we have for our children and it is not that we only see greatness in some and not others, but we know each has their own path. At the same time, that path will require foundational instructions as well as key facts for each journey. While I would love to say you can read a manual one time and you are good to go I am pretty sure anyone who has put together anything from Ikea, a doll house or a child’s play kitchen knows that is not so. Much like a child, those things need constant review from start to finish ensuring nothing is out of place. In addition, when we see something out of place it is our responsibility to correct it in a timely manner.

One of my absolute favorite books is, “Hinds Feet for High Places.” It is an allegory type of story that parallels the Christian walk of life having a relationship with Jesus, for which these verses helped anchor the author’s story. The main character, Much-Afraid’s, goal is to be with The Great Shepherd in the High Places. I have read it again and again, each time finding myself relating to a different part of poor Much-Afraid’s journey walking with the Shepherd. I can relate to her, as she is described as having difficulties with her body, things not working correctly, and her fretting about how she wishes things were different for her, wanting her feet to be like deer’s feet. I’ve spent a lot of my life wrestling with these thoughts.

If you are on social media, it’s pretty tough to avoid coming in contact with people from your past. For all the positive experiences this can create, it may also trigger some negative feelings of shame, regret, and/or remorse. We have all made decisions we aren’t proud of. Coming in contact with people who witnessed those sinful choices can be difficult. On the other hand, have you yourself been guilty of judging someone’s profession of faith based on their past? Maybe while scrolling your Facebook feed or even in-person, the thought crossed your mind: “She certainly didn’t used to be that holy” or “He was pretty wild back then.”

I am the queen of “if you don’t expect anything, you can’t be disappointed.” I am realistic to a fault and to hope for something, especially something that seems unlikely to happen, feels like a waste of time to my analytical brain. I think this is because, to the world, hope is fluffy.

The word “hope” is commonly used to mean a wish: its strength is the strength of the person's desire. You’ve probably heard the phrase “if it’s not coming to you, you must not want it bad enough.” Even the dictionary definition makes hope sound like a wish: “to cherish a desire with anticipation: to want something to happen or be true.” The problem with this definition is that our hope is based on the WHAT instead of the WHO.

I have a cousin who is one of my favorite people in the world and she has an amazing green thumb. Not just for growing flowers and shrubbery but also for fruits and vegetables. Over the last year or so, she has really taken the time to cultivate her craft. She has acquired calendars for seasonal crops, lights and shelves for her seedlings and has hand built two raised garden beds. Once her seeds have been tended to for a certain amount of time and have been given the opportunity to get a strong start, she transplants them into the ground in her garden.

Hope succinctly defined is the “purpose behind persistence.” In my opinion, it is a simple definition worth memorizing. Why memorize it? Simply because the concept of hope and its function in our daily lives will show up thousands of times over our lifetime. Whenever we ask ourselves, “Why am I doing this or that? Why persist in this role, this journey, this relationship? Such questions always serve up the ministry and necessity of hope, for hope is associated with everything we do and say.

Just mentioning this may stir up all sorts of emotions as you ponder the journey you have been taken on this past year, whether in your personal life, seeing the things happening in the world, or both. These feelings may be intense, overwhelming, and difficult to wrestle with, let alone trying to make some sense of it all. For what it’s worth, I’m right there with you in the fog of, “What the heck has been happening, and when will it ever stop?!”

If you were to look in my kitchen cabinets, you are sure to find quite a few skillets, pots, pans and a plethora of small kitchen appliances. I truly enjoy cooking and baking. I love to create new recipes for my family to taste. I have a certain blue glass Pyrex dish and an old metal cake pan that only come out for special occasions. Two standard items with tons of meaning but limited usage. If you ask me these dishes are solely for baking brownies in the Pyrex dish and baking cornbread in the metal pan.

Do you ever feel like you are not enough? Well, contrary to empowering Instagram posts everywhere, those feelings of inadequacy are correct. You are not enough. There, I said it. We fall short of being enough every single day of our lives. Fortunately, God knows this. And we have a whole team of heavenly support in our corner, ready to revive us.

It might be helpful to ponder what “reviving the heart” means.

First of all, when the Scriptures mention the word “heart,” it is rarely referring to that essential organ in our chest that beats steadily and faithfully throughout our lifetime. It more generally is referring to the attitudes that represent who we are and who we’re becoming. In other words, a “change of heart” would be an adjustment in the attitudes that dominate our view of life and effect what we do in life.

We as a family sat in the darkened room watching the pictures of my dad roll one right after another. How is it possible that 90 years passed so quickly? The memories were palatable. We were immediately transported back to the places and times of our lives with our dad. Love and grief flowed interchangeably like rivers. How we missed him. How short life felt. We watched him and my mother courageously accept a life of debilitating Parkinson’s for the past 15 years. My mom, his caregiver. My dad, slowing releasing his control over his body and mind. They, however, were both walking with a quiet trust in the God who loves them.

Ah, that Sunday morning feeling. You hear a great message and you’re fired up to go out and live your faith. Then, you get to the parking lot and people are driving like maniacs, someone is rude at your lunch place, and your friend bails on the plans you had. That Sunday morning feeling? Gone. Maybe it’s more serious for you. A breakup, a death, a disease, financial troubles – all of these things can cause us to feel further and further away from revival.

Discipline for me is a four-letter word. I don’t like it. I receive and perceive it as punishment. When it is coming from someone else. Ironically when it is coming from me, self-discipline, I perceive it as a great strength, strong will power, an attribute, and even a gift.

Working in the medical field has brought great relationships and experiences. Over the course of 15 years, I have taken several CPR classes. In the class, we are taught various lifesaving methods. One of those methods requires the use of an AED machine. To use it, turn on the machine to charge, apply the two paddles to the patient’s chest (Please note the paddles have printed graphics for pictorial instructions to assist with proper placement) and before pushing the button, you need to say “clear”. This serves as a warning to anyone near to ensure there is no physical contact and to avoid being shocked. You then push the button and the machine sends an electrical shock wave to revive or restart the heart. In what seems to be forever you wait to see if it worked or if you need to increase the voltage and try it again. How ironic that in the same tone, life will send events our way that can sometimes place us on our backs and leave us in a motionless state of response. The very thing that knocks you down can be used to shake you out of your lethargy. However, before this begins to look like an episode of E.R. let me say some moments in my life, and I have had my share all on different levels, were nothing like what we see on TV. There was no dramatic music playing in the background to build the suspense. There were not any machines and people staring and rooting. For me, there was silence and darkness. Now yes leading up to the silence and darkness there was a combination of all of the above. Tons of beeping, codes being called, and voices giving me instructions and encouragement. Nevertheless, at some point, it all went away and all that I thought I knew was silent. What am I talking about? I am talking about my ‘Sudden Impact’.