The {glue} that holds us all together.

It was raining that afternoon. The hardest I could remember ever driving through. And in a matter of an hour the rain would be an exact mirror to my tear streaked face and washed out insides as I met my new reality.

She was fifty years old and six months retired. She was my mother. And she was the glue that held our family together.

She wasn’t supposed to die in her sleep from a massive heart attack. Alone. My dad out of town. Me either upstairs getting ready for work or in the kitchen drinking the coffee she got up to make me or on my way to work or already at work. Either way, she was alone. And we were now alone. And our family glue was gone.

But in the midst of those days that stripped our souls bare after her death, there was another glue that worked His way into our family unit and took hold. Fast. Strong. Steady. Jesus.

I imagine the same torrential rain fell from the sky as the world came unglued those moments He hung lifeless on those splintered pieces of wood fashioned in a cross pointing to the heavens.

Those who had just murdered Him now realizing maybe, just maybe, He was the Messiah after all as they watched their sacred temple literally torn in two. The thunder. The lightening. The fury as all hell was poured out in blood and water from his broken and beat body.

Hell he endured for me and for you. The glue that holds the world together. And me. And you.

Jesus. The only glue that can hold us together when our world comes unglued. And it has and it does and it will. Until we are whole with Him in glory.

I weep to think how many sins of my own He suffered for that dark day. I weep to think how they were all washed away when He conquered death and held fast to His promises as He always does. Always did. Always will.

My hope stands fast in the One who holds me fast. My Cornerstone. My solid rock. My redeemer. My rescuer. My glue.

In Remembrance of Him,
Meredith

heisrisen

**Linking up with Lisa-Jo Baker and a slew of other talented writers for Five Minute Friday on this special Friday of Holy Week. Tonights prompt was {glue}.

 

Putting Doubt to Death. | Part 1

Max Lucado said if there was one thing he could go back and tell himself when he first started his writing and preaching career it would be “to prepare for self-doubt.”

Listening to this well-versed, highly successful author and lead pastor of 30+ years admit that he continues to deal with doubt was an eye-opener. A game-changer. A needed shot of reality.

Really? That’s the one thing you would tell yourself. Interesting. I don’t struggle with that. Not so much.

Wait. Yes, I do. This was a WORD for me and maybe it will be a WORD for you.

This one little five letter word that I believe we do not give enough thought. Enough respect for the weight it holds.

Wrapped tightly in a shroud of insecurity and unbelief and even arrogance. That word doubt.

We all doubt something.
Doubt someone.
Doubt everyone.
Doubt everything.

We doubt ourselves.
We doubt our spouse.
We doubt our children.
We doubt our neighbor.

We doubt God.

He may not be considered God to everyone, but we ALL doubt Him at some point.

Doubt His existence.
Doubt His ability.
Doubt His love.

And then there is that one lie that led to that one word. Doubt.

In the garden Adam and Eve chose doubt…over God. Evil over Good. And God loved them and loves us enough to allow us the ability to choose.

They chose to believe the lie that maybe they were missing something.

Maybe they actually could be like God…forgetting they already were

Oh, how we so easily fall into the same trap and follow in the same ill-gotten footsteps of these two who had the perfect life.

And because of doubt…gave it all up. For death. And as soon as the choice had been made, they regretted it. Wished they could take it back. Take back the doubt that now filled their once pure and innocent and full-of-Life hearts.

Now nothing. No peace. No joy. No afternoon strolls with their Creator in perfect harmony. All because they doubted their existence and chose what was “a delight to the eyes” and what would “seem to make one wise.”

Isn’t that the way it always is? The grass is always greener. Yep, been there and done that. Like a mirage of sorts…the closer you get, the better it looks until you actually take that step and in an instant you wish you never had.

Wished you had followed your gut that told you it was too good to be true.

Wished you could take back that initial doubt and go another way. The other way. Any way but where you find yourself now. In this dead place.

No green in sight. Where did it go? It was just here.

We never have just enough to be satisfied and so when the temptation is laid bare, we can’t help ourselves.

We. must. try. it. We must doubt our own reality. Our own existence.

I guess it really is in our nature to doubt. In our flesh, Adam and Eve born, nature.

But that doesn’t make it right or good or healthy. It just makes us real. Real human.

So, that’s where doubt starts. As a seed. Not even necessarily planted deep…it doesn’t need much water to grow. Just a touch. Just an inclination. Just a hint of sunlight to spur it on.

Likes those first weeds of spring in my plant bed, that doubt is. Doesn’t take anything much to get them growing, but once they start, it takes all of heaven and hell to get them killed. And there are always a few left that I miss and they grow more. I can never get rid of all those weeds. Try as I might, I can never kill them all.

And I may never be able to kill all the doubt in my life. Not until I’m perfectly perfect and right now I’m perfectly imperfect.

So I’ll keep hashing this doubt thing out. And I hope you’ll hash it out with me some more. It needs to be put to death. As much as we possibly can. Only when we start to kill the seeds before they sprout, will we ever start to live fully.

Graciously,
Meredith

Old paths.

I’ve been reminded this weekend of some things. As much as I’d like to think that there are areas of my life that I have “moved on” from, there are still wounds that haven’t healed. Still old paths I find myself realizing I wish had never been trod, but knowing without those paths, I wouldn’t be on the road I’m on today. All it takes is a song on the radio or a face in a gas station to conjure old memories, and take me back to a time and place I thought I had “settled.” I was over that. Or at least I thought I was.

To see a face from my past, run back to my car, hide until they are gone and then go in the store is not a sure sign that “all is well.”  Agree?  I’m sure I’m the only one who has ever done such a thing. It was an eye-opener for me, though. And it got under my skin.  To the place I don’t like to go. The place I have worked very hard to bury. Deep.

What is it about those painful past roads in life that we want so badly to forget and move on and never look back, but inevitably we are forced to?

Perhaps it is so we DON’T forget.

Not saying living in the past is the answer. Surely, it’s not. But a good shot of remembering where we came from and how far we have come is not so bad either.

Paul says in Romans 6:20-23,

“For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regards to righteousness. But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

That’s a healthy dose of scripture for me today. A great reminder for me this morning.

Yes, I’ve sinned. Yes, I was a slave to my sin for a long, long time. Yes, I cannot deny that path or the choices I made. I was very fruitful in my sin and I was on the road to death. I was on the road to death.

BUT, I have now been SET FREE and am a slave to sin no longer.
I am a slave of God and my fruit is now life giving.
Life sanctifying…being made new.
Set apart for a higher calling. For LIFE. Not just a full life here, but life everlasting.

I think God allows us to be reminded of where we’ve been so we remember how far we’ve come.

And if you haven’t made the choice for Life, it’s not to late.

It’s never too late until it’s too late.

If you are reading this, it’s not too late. If God is calling you, it’s not too late.

God is the great path changer.  Where He leads is always better than where we think we want to go. Take it from a woman who knows. She’s followed the road to the greener grass only to find it wasn’t green at all.

The road from the old path to the new path isn’t always easy. It’s isn’t always smooth. It certainly isn’t the same path that everyone else is on. But it’s the RIGHT path. The peaceful path. The life-giving path. The ONLY path worth taking.

And it’s as much your choice as it was mine. Never be deceived, we choose our path. We may not choose what road blocks we will face on the path, but we choose which path we take. And there is only One path that comes with a constant companion to get you over and through the road blocks.

Rest in that today, friend. Old paths remind. Don’t stay on them. Learn. Grow. Then choose the path that leads to Life and GO.

Graciously,
Meredith