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Presenting ALL of the Truth

In John chapter four, when talking with a woman who had an interest in knowing more about receiving the living water Jesus had to offer (even though she didn’t fully understand yet what that really meant), Jesus said for her to go and get her husband and then return.

The woman stated that she didn’t have a husband. However, Jesus “called her out,” stating that while she was speaking the truth—because the man she was currently with was not her husband—she had previously had five husbands.

This woman used the principle (which is not always a bad one, by the way): “When you speak, speak only the truth, but you don’t have to speak all the truth!” The problem for her was that she was not aware of the omniscience of her Listener.

I do the same thing with God. I think I can “withhold” some of the truth when I come to Him in prayer, and that I’ll be blessed or even “rewarded”—i.e., get my proverbial “cookie”—for the element of the truth that I share or confess.

But this thought hit me afresh this morning: That’s not fulfilling my desire to sincerely, honestly, transparently, and humbly offer on the altar “all of me.”

“All of me” includes telling Him all of the truth of the story, all of my confession (which He already knows anyway!).

Lord, thank You for showing me another “part of me” area of my life. I long to change, but I’m weak of spirit, and so I appreciate Your patience and Your unconditional love.

Of Shadows and Spotlights

“Place your focus on Christ.”

“Place your faith in Christ.”

“Place your future in Christ.”

Those words have come out of my mouth many times as I have taught small groups of ladies or as I have spoken to larger audiences at retreats or women’s conferences. So please understand the embarrassment on my face and in my heart as I share this next thought:

It’s actually quite easy to “point the spotlight on Christ” when the spotlight is on me.

But what happens when the spotlight is removed—when I find myself to be an “unknown” in a new crowd of faces? Suddenly, it’s now actually quite easy to turn the spotlight back on myself and all the changes that I somehow think are oh, so traumatic, apparently seeking some sort of validation from my new surroundings. (Insert a pathetic-sounding round of “Oh, poor me; no one here knows me, and I’m feeling so alone,” and you’ll have the tone of this pity party.)

But I won’t dwell there long. In fact, I’m going to close this post with exactly what I recorded in my journal—preceded by a bunch of selfishly personal thoughts that I’m not about to post here—after being struck by the amazing thing I saw when reading John chapter three today:

“Once again the humility of John the Baptist comes to the forefront, and he steps into the shadows to shine a spotlight on Christ: ‘He must increase, but I must decrease.'”

Lord, thank You for removing me from the comfort of the oh, so small and temporary spotlight and placing me in the shadows, for there, I can see the importance of the spotlight that I am able to shine on You—and You alone—when it is unhindered by anything else, free to illuminate Your face, Your heart, and Your love.

Whatever You Say

Jesus’s mother had such a strong belief in Who He was that she confidently told the servants at the wedding in Cana: “Whatever He says to you, do it” (verse 5, NASB).

Too often—far too often—I say or inwardly imply, “Do what Jesus says—plus this amazing advice I’m going to add.”

When they did what He said, the results were miraculous! In fact, they were the springboard and initial instance of all of Jesus’s earthly miracles!

Lord, strengthen my will and give me the grace to radically do whatever You say. 

_______________________

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All of Me

As a woman with a…well…how do I say this graciously but accurately?…calendar fetish (yes, that sums it up succinctly), I love when a new month begins. In my organizationally OCD mind, it represents so much: a new start, a new opportunity to color code, an incentive to take a new approach and learn new things. I know, silly, right? Because those opportunities and options are there no matter what day it is numerically on the calendar. But just let me have my once-a-month eagerness over “new beginnings,” okay?

In preparation for commemorating and celebrating Christ’s death and resurrection (!) later this month, I wanted the month of April to focus on that. I searched for a book in the Bible with twenty chapters, since Easter falls on the twentieth day. The best I could do was the book of John, which has twenty-one chapters. However, it’s actually quite perfect because chapter twenty, describing the findings and subsequent reactions to His resurrection, will be my Easter morning reading! And then I’ll get to read the “bonus chapter” the next day! (I’d love for you to join me on this journey, by the way!)

But as I began my morning, I opened my Bible obligatorily, ready to place a check mark next to “GAIT” (God-and-I-Time”), which I had written in pink ink (pink, of course, for “personal” to-do item) at the top of my calendar for today’s date. The “obligation” ended with the first verse, and the soul-stirring, life-altering elements just expanded with each verse after that!

Not only does John begin by stating that Christ was there from the very beginning, but in verse three, he bottom-lines it by saying that everything we have and everything we are and the very fact that we are in existence is solely because of Christ. EVERYTHING! (And yes, I’m shouting that!)

As if that’s not enough, he goes on later in the chapter to share the words of another John (John the Baptist), who spoke to those around him for one purpose—and one purpose alone: “Behold, the Lamb of God.” John the Baptist had some seriously mad communication skills and had a following that business leaders and church leaders today could only long for, but he said, “It’s not about me.”

There are several more reminders in the chapter that Christ deserves first place, but I’ll encourage you to find those on your own because I seriously want to share one more thing, and I’ve already made this longer than I had hoped it would be.

I’m currently reading the book 7, by Jen Hatmaker. Think what you will of her and of this experiment she writes about, but her book is changing my life by pointing me to the life-changing power of a life fully surrendered to Christ. In one of the early chapters, she tells of speaking to a group of young women and encouraging them to bring a tangible item to the altar (to give to the needy at the compelling of Christ) or to write on a 3 x 5 card something intangible that they would give to Christ: relationships, anger, dreams, etc. As God worked in her own heart about what she was sharing, her personal 3 x 5 card ended up with three words: “All of me.”

Since reading that, I can’t get those words or that thought out of my head. And if you saw my post about “A Picture-Perfect (but Painful) Lesson,” which you can read later, here, you know that this phrase was part of a song the Lord used in my heart on Sunday morning at church. And now, John adds to that by showing me Who Christ is and how He alone should be my focus. How could I offer Him less than “all of me?”

Yet, on this day of the week that I consistently pray for singles—myself included—I was pointedly reminded as I laid “all of me” before Him this morning that He is not to receive “all of me” by default. He is not to be “more than enough” by default—simply because I have nothing (no one) else. Nor does it mean that all fun, enjoyment, longings, or dreams must cease. It simply and amazingly means that all of those things are secondary, and that they first get filtered through the fact that He alone is in charge. He alone receives the glory (as John wisely states in chapter 1). He alone gets “all of me.”

Let me just confess here that following that reading and following those thoughts, it was time for a session of “carpet-smelling” (face-to-the-floor!) prayer before the One I have too often given “first place by default.”

This month, and long after, I desire to learn more of the One Who gave His all for me, and that my sincere response will be for Him to have “all of me.” Again, I’d love for you to join me on this twenty-one-day journey through John!

_______________________

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A Picture-Perfect (but Painful) Lesson

Since I’ve been pretty transparent about things these past two years on the blog (two years—can you believe it?), and you’ve patiently listened, read the latest posts, and patted my hand with a loving “it’ll be okay, Brenda” or smacked me upside the head with a “straighten up, Brenda,” I’ll let you in on a secret today.

Moving was easier when I was younger. I’m not 100 percent certain of the reason for that, but a few possible explanations come to mind:

1. We get more set in our ways as we age; any change to the “comfortable” elements wreaks havoc on our minds.

2. We have most likely established our “earned” and true friendships by the time we hit our middle years. Letting new people into the inner circle of our lives is, at times, quite unsettling.

3. We bring our filters with us into our new environment, and these filters often contradict the “local filters.” For example: Did the people in our former setting demonstrate their emotions with reserve? Then we are likely to be quite put off by someone in our new location being overly demonstrative with their emotions; therefore, we shy away from the uncomfortable possibility that we might be expected to do the same.

4. We are used to the “NORM!” response, and we feel “unwelcome” when we don’t receive it. (Pardon the reference to the TV show Cheers, but it pictures it perfectly. In the fictitious local pub, Cheers, one particularly frequent patron was well-liked and well-known to the point that everyone in the pub called out his name as he entered!) Perhaps we’ve gone from being the big fish in our little pond to being the new, little fish in a very big pond. Rather than feel “unpopular,” we choose to become something of a social recluse and blame everyone in the new setting for not being very nice to us  (i.e., not meeting the expectations to which we have become accustomed)!

Whatever the reason or reasons may be, it’s just harder to move as you age. Especially when you do it alone. Now, don’t get upset with me, my dear FWMs (Friends with Mates). But I truly believe it’s trickier for singles—especially older ones. Yes, a move is hard even if you’re one of the FWMs, but you have someone to sit next to and be new with in church; you have someone to accept you while you’re waiting for the locals to do the same; and you have someone to stand with you as you awkwardly wait in line—the wrong one, it turns out—to sign up for the new membership class at church.

No, I’m not whining. Honest. Okay, sort of.

But then, just as you’re fighting back a tear of self-pity, sadness, and homesickness as you mindlessly sing the songs in church that morning…

WAIT! Why am I speaking in second person? Transparency isn’t all-inclusive. It’s me. Sharing my life. So let’s try that again:

But then, as I was fighting back a tear of self-pity, sadness, and homesickness as I mindlessly sang the songs in church this morning, the Spirit pricked me awake and used the next line of the song so pointedly that I was pretty certain the “subliminal message” on the screen was clear for all in the congregation to see: “Brenda Strohbehn, this one’s for you!” (Did anyone else see that neon orange message behind the words?) In essence, the song spoke of His being more than enough; therefore, He gets all of me.

Ouch. The needed prick from God was also a painful reminder of my selfishness. He brought me here. I’ve lived here (officially) for three weeks. So I need to remember that any destination (any friendship) worth reaching is worth the time it takes to get there.

With my "new/old" friend Lydia at her belated birthday celebration/craft day yesterday.

But I can’t stop this blog post there. (Even though that is a good stopping place!) Because I have already made an amazing friend here in Indiana, and to not include that element after all my whining about being “alone” and seemingly “friendless” would be just plain wrong. I actually “met” her through this blog (as a friend of my mother’s, she graciously read a post when referred by my mom a few years back), and then I met her kindred-spirit personality by becoming her friend on Facebook, and then I met her and her dear husband in person recently on her birthday (which she shares with my mother). This sweet new friend LOVES that I don’t post photos on my blog, but that I get straight to the point. But today, I just HAVE to post a photo of the two of us at her home yesterday. She welcomed me with open arms and an open heart, and I already truly count her as a friend! So sweet Lydia, even though you are a “crazy chicken lady” (she raises chickens like pets; me? I’m literally freaked out by chickens—true story), and even though you won’t like that I posted this, I think you are beautiful inside and out, and I thank you for already being the kind of friend I could share my secrets with!

So, I guess I really am getting settled. But I will diligently and DELIBERATELY (my word for 2014!) remember that my God is more than enough: He’s more than my location; more than my longings; more than my needs; more than my desires; more than my friendships; more than my weakness; more than my strengths—He’s more. And because of that, He gets all of me.