emilyhat

Wife. Sister. Podcaster. Daughter of the King.

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My High Priest

I’ve been reading through the Old Testament, trying to keep myself on track for a yearly Bible reading. It’s not something I’ve really ever been able to easily keep up with. Many, many times I’ve gotten lost in the lists – maybe genealogies, maybe tabernacle measurements – and I’ve been discouraged. Obviously it’s been spiritual weakness and a lack of endurance, so I’ve tried to commit myself to a different kind of reading this time. This time, I’m focused on God in the stories. I’m looking for His glory and His story instead of just the text in the foreground.  Most recently, that way of looking at things is what got me through the latter chapters of Exodus. But because I kept with it, I was blessed with an amazing picture of my Savior that I’d been missing all these years.  In Exodus 28-29, there has been immense detail given to the priestly garments. I mean, super intricate detail. Details on the fabrics and designs and embellishments and the special ways each is attached to the other. It’s a lot of verses containing the same phrases. Sometimes I felt a little cross eyed, I’ll be honest. But then, a verse in chapter 29 struck me in a different way than before. You see, after going into all the detail of the garments for the high priest (Aaron) and his sons, the next portion of text goes into consecrating them as priests. That process is pretty brutal. Holding onto a bull and rams and having them slaughtered. Then some of the blood being placed on their ear and thumb and big toe.  Then Exodus 29:21 says, “And you shall take some of the blood that is on the altar, and some of the anointing oil, and sprinkle it on Aaron and on his garments, on his sons and on the garments of his sons with him; and he and his garments shall be hallowed, and his sons and his sons’ garments with him.” Did you catch that?  Here are these amazingly intricate items of clothing, hand designed by God Himself. They have been meticulously crafted by people whom God gave special abilities. And then, Aaron and his sons are to put them on and, in the very first wearing, have them splattered with blood.  It is widely understood that blood stains clothes. It’s not one of those things that comes out easily. And I doubt the children of Israel are going to be able to bleach on top of all those special embellishments and fine threads. Instead, the high priestly garments are going to be covered with blood as Aaron goes before the LORD, so that God regards him as holy.  I think of a different time that a High Priest would be covered in blood. Brutally scourged and beaten; nails carved into His hands and feet. A crown of thorns beaten into His skull and blood undoubtedly dripping down into His love-filled eyes.  This High Priest was also covered in blood before our God, but not so that He could be made holy – He already was. No, He was bloodied for our sins. He was covered in blood for His people. And He covers us with that blood – that precious blood that He let be spilled from His own body – cover us as we stand before God. As priests in His service, we are regarded as holy to the Lord because we, too, have been covered with blood. Blood that was shed at a much greater price.  All praise and glory be to the One who has covered our sin. Praise and glory and honor to the Savior who was also the sacrifice; the Lord who became our Lamb. 

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My Perfect Life

I have spent too much of my life curating an image I want people to see. As I’ve grown, I’ve tried to make that image that people see be Jesus. But, if I’m honest, the temptation is still there to carefully craft this image of me – to portray a me that I want to be but not a me that I necessarily am all the time.  But I’m learning about being vulnerable.  People want vulnerable, right? Ok, maybe not always, but I think if you want to truly connect to people you have to be willing to let your true self be seen. You may be laughing because true connection and the internet seem like opposites. It seems the temptation is to let the people in your actual life see one version and then the rest of the world see a different one. Social media sure has made making actual connections something difficult, at least if you’re like me and like to curate a picture perfect image of yourself.  It’s not that I’m trying to lie about who I am. I like to put my best self forward. I like to put out there the person I most desperately want to be. The only problem is, so many of you see podcaster or writer or whatever else, and you don’t see the disheveled mess that I am most days. You don’t see all the falling and all the grace I need. You don’t see the exact moment I wish I could take back the words I said or the thing I did.  I’ve spent too much time afraid that somehow this grace-needing person might be exposed. That someone I’ve wronged (many) or offended (even more) would come forward and expose the me I pray about all the time. Afraid that if everyone knew every sin I’ve ever committed that no one would respect me or like me or be friends with me or listen to me.   But the thing is, when we hide our faults and our humanness, we actually hide the power of Jesus and His grace and His saving blood. When we live lives that seem like we need no grace, we stop showing other people the One who is willing to give them that amazing grace, too. Not only that, but we might actually stop believing we need grace. We might start believing we’re somehow holy enough or that if we tick off enough “Christian boxes” then we might deserve God’s favor.  It isn’t about me or people liking or respecting me. It’s about letting Jesus be seen in me. It’s about living for Him and making Him my whole life (Gal. 2:20, Col. 3:4).  So let me tell you something: I don’t have it all together. Far from it, actually. I am broken, and I am constantly seeking for my God to put me together. I fail Him, a lot. I have said things to and about people that make me feel shame. I have done things that are shameful and sinful and condemned in Scripture. I did many of these things before I became a Christian; sadly, though, I have done many since. I regularly fail. I regularly miss the mark. I, daily, stand in need of allllll the grace.  If you’re one of those people I’ve ever hurt or offended, I’m sorry. If you have been negatively influenced by my words or choices or attitudes, I’m sorry. And if you’ve ever felt like I have it all together, I’m really, really sorry I was too busy showing you who I want to be instead of letting you see the God who holds me together.  It is only God who keeps me going. It is only God who turns this hot mess of existence into something useful. Only God. Always. 

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Appreciating the Past

This post was originally written for the Perspectives of a Preacher’s Wife blog. You can visit here and find more posts by Emily and other preachers’ wives. When my daughter was born, I developed postpartum depression pretty immediately. One of the devastating parts of that illness was me not wanting anything to do with my perfect, precious newborn. I didn’t want to hold her. I didn’t even want to be around her some moments. My brain was creating what felt like an insurmountable distance. I needed space. I felt numb. I felt broken. I was so, so, so sad. Thanks be to God for allowing me to live in an age where medicines have been capably produced to help with brain connectors! With His guidance and grace, I was able to overcome so many of those early feelings. I loved my daughter so much even in those scary moments, but I grieved over what I knew I should have had. Surely it was supposed to be different – having a baby. Everyone said it would be. Now, after the birth of my son, I know that it should have been different – because wow is it different now. God has delivered me and withheld PPD from my experience this time, and I am so very thankful. But now, being able to fully soak in all these newborn cuddles and kisses, knowing it wasn’t like this last time, it’s making me cuddle even more and kiss even more and hold even tighter. I’ve definitely got a sorry-not-sorry mindset when it comes to hogging all the hugs for myself. I know it won’t be like this for long. I know he won’t stay little forever (he’s already a month old!!). I know and so I cling to him. I want to soak it up because I know it could be different. I praise God because it IS different. I am free from the chains of depression right now, and I am living in the moment. Every single one. In his letters, Paul often reminded Christians of where they had been. When he wrote to the Corinthians, he reminded them of exactly what they had come out of (1 Cor. 6:9-11). They had been consumed by sin – fully engaged in sinful lifestyles and habits – but they had been washed; freed from the bondage of sin that was dragging them toward depths of despair that are unfathomable to our earthly minds. To the Romans, Paul wrote about their weakness and hopelessness. He reminded them that they had been enemies and the objects of the wrath of God (Romans 5:6-11). He told them of their bondage and slavery to sin, then praised God for freeing him and them from such terrible chains (6:17-23).  So much of my praise and thanksgiving to God stems from the fact that I remember who I was without God. I know what hopelessness feels like. I know what weakness feels like. I know what sin-sickness does to you. But now, having tasted the free gift of God, I know that it doesn’t have to be that way. It shouldn’t have been that way. I shouldn’t have chosen sin, but I did. And yet, despite my choice, God provided a way back. He told me the way. He offered His Son. He did everything and I deserved nothing. I could pay him nothing. All I could offer was myself, and my sinful self wouldn’t do. He stepped in and He offered. God the Son offered Himself. For me. That fills me with awe, how about you?  So, because I know the difference — the difference between a life in Christ and a death away from Him — what do I do? Do I soak it up? Do I praise? Do I devote every minute to His glory and goodness? That’s what I should do. I shouldn’t squander the gift of grace. I shouldn’t squander this blessed state I live in – saved by the blood of Jesus! I should be using this life for His glory, because I remember too well what life away from Him was like. He deserves all praise, all glory, all energy, all of me.  What a waste if I didn’t soak up these days with my little boy. But because I know how it could be (deep in the depths of depression), I do soak them up. I hold him close. I kiss and kiss and kiss!  I don’t want to waste even a second! How much more of a waste to spend my life — my redeemed-at-awful-cost life — complaining or focused on self or trying to justify sin? How much more of a waste to live this life as if I deserve it, and therefore I squander it by not praising God for His free gift of amazing grace?  Christian, don’t waste today. Don’t squander these days you’ve been given to live in His grace. No more complaining. No more complacency. No more backbiting or bickering. Praise Him. Thank Him. Glorify Him. Don’t waste it. Remember where you came from and fall on your face in gratitude for the wonderful, matchless love of our amazing God. Spend your days offering all of you (Rom. 12:1-2) to the One who brought you out of darkness and into His marvelous light. Don’t spend all of your time and effort focused on this life and its pleasures. Spend and be spent for Him. 

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A Summer of Lessons

Life with two little ones has kept me pretty busy so far this summer, but I don’t want to miss the opportunity to chronicle what has been quite possibly the biggest summer ever. This summer, we’ve added a little one and are in the process of moving. Sunday evening we said goodbye to our North Charleston family and this coming Sunday we will say hello to our new family at Gold Hill Road. In the midst of these huge life changes, I’ve noticed a few things – things that I don’t want to forget. In the first place, I have seen firsthand the privilege and power of prayer. In the early moments of Owen’s birth, we relied on all of you to lift us up before God’s throne. We knew He would hear His people. And He did. He answered in the affirmative, though we would and will praise Him no matter the answers. But, seeing all of the Facebook messages (and we looked at each and every one) overwhelmed us with how much of a privilege it is to pray to God and to pray for the ones we love. Getting to speak to the Creator of the universe is such an amazing privilege, and to know that so many (hundreds, from all over the world!) took our hours-old son’s name before God Almighty is the most humbling thing I’ve ever experienced. When Owen’s NICU doctor explained the situation and risks of his condition, and then came back two days later and said – I’ve never seen a change this fast – I knew why. There is so much power in prayer. God truly hears His children. And on June 8th, He heard hundreds of them. He and He alone is the reason Owen’s body was healed so quickly. We are grateful to our God for being present and active in our lives.  Yet another way God has blessed our lives this summer is by giving us not one, but two amazing church families who love us and take care of us. While our time has not yet officially begun in Fort Mill, we have received letters and phone calls and Facebook messages that show us that, no matter where you go, the church is your home – your family. We are blessed by our Father to have the church. I am so thankful that Jesus suffered as He did to purchase her. She is beautiful and special and a blessing to us. Most especially, though, in these past few days we have been overwhelmingly blessed by our North Charleston family. They have showered us with every form of blessing – their prayers, their words of kindness, and their physical sacrifices. While there haven’t been many opportunities for me to tell them all how much they mean to me, my heart echoes every word that Robert has said. North Charleston will always be special to us. There is a sense in which it will always be home – after all, both of our children were born here and taken to worship for the very first time at North Charleston. What a blessing it is to be able to say that, and I look forward to being able to tell them all about it as they grow. The last five years have been a whirlwind. When we arrived, I was 26 years old. I knew nothing about…anything, really. But in the last five years I have learned so much from the most godly men in the world (our amazing elders and my most favorite preacher) and some very service-oriented ladies. I have learned how to be a mom from some of the rockstars that I’ve gotten to see up close and personal. I’ve had very present help in my depths of depression – God gave me people who had walked that same path and gave me encouragement and strength. I have found best friends and mentors. Our children have extra aunts and uncles and grandparents. Our hearts are so full as we think back on all that these last five years have meant. Words cannot do justice to the ways this congregation has helped us as a family grow closer to God. I’m so thankful we’ll only be 3 hours away. So many have told me that we’re lucky to have had such great relationships at North Charleston; that we’re lucky to have had good doctors and nurses for Owen. But really, we’re not lucky. No – it isn’t luck at all. We know that we have been blessed by our amazing God. He alone deserves all praise and honor and glory. He is so, so very good. He has been so good to us. And He has used many of you to enrich our lives and show us Jesus on a day to day basis. To God be the glory; GREAT things He has done.

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My New Communion

Every week, I am humbled and privileged to partake of the Lord’s Supper. Christ has commanded that we remember and proclaim His death until He comes again (1 Corinthians 11:26). And so, every week since becoming a Christian, I have taken “communion” as we call it. I have dwelled upon the fact that Jesus died for me. I have examined and reexamined Isaiah 53. I have read, who can count how many times, the accounts of Jesus’ brutal execution. Each and every week, these thoughts are special. The few, brief moments of worship that we set aside to proclaim His death on the cross, those moments are always special. But lately, communion has been a little different. My oldest child is very much a three year old. She loves to ask questions. She is so very curious about anything and everything. For the last few months, she’s been asking all the things about communion. So, while I have been thinking of what Jesus did for us, I’ve also been explaining why He hurt His hands, what the crown of thorns was, and how it’s sad that Jesus had to die on the cross for our sins while also being something happy. It hasn’t been as emotional as I would like because, well, this season of life is what it is. A few weeks ago, though, my second child – a son – was born. During communion these days, I’m cuddling a perfect, precious newborn boy. A perfectly sinless, precious, wonderful boy. And ok, sometimes I’m still answering questions, or, let’s be real, shushing, but mostly, I’m an emotional wreck. Why? Because of that perfect little boy in my arms. That little boy is giving me loads and loads of appreciation for my Father and helping me worship Him. You see, God the Father sent Jesus – God Himself – to earth in the form of a perfectly sinless, precious little boy. This boy would grow into a perfectly sinless, precious Man that would be cruelly beaten and mocked and, ultimately, murdered. And God let that happen. God allowed His only begotten Son to die, for me. For you. For every single person you will ever read about or encounter. I cannot imagine allowing my son to feel an ounce of pain if it were at all preventable. I cried as he got his heel pricked over and over again in the hospital as they were trying to regulate his blood sugars. I cried when they told me they’d had to puncture his chest with a needle – and these things were done for his good. These things were done in a way so as to cause the least amount of pain. And still, as a parent, it hurt me that he had to endure any of it. And Jesus? He was tortured in a way so as to inflict the most amount of pain possible. His pain wasn’t for His own good – it was for our good. And God allowed that to happen. He looked down and chose us. He chose to let Jesus suffer so that we could go to heaven. How much must God love us? It is, as the mom of a newborn baby boy, an unfathomable amount. So communion looks a little different for me now. It’s so much less about me and so much more about praising my God and thanking Him for the perfect gift of His perfect Son Jesus. Our God is so, so good. I am humbled and awe-struck by His great love and the way He pursued me. May I devote my whole life to giving thanks to Him and showing His great love to others.

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Lessons from the NICU: Demolishing High Expectations

I haven’t said much on social media since my son was born, mostly because it was an entirely different experience than I thought it would be. Having a child that immediately goes into the NICU is scary and overwhelming and traumatic. However, as I reflect on the past month of our lives, I realize that God was teaching me in the midst of all of it. Today I want to tell you about the first lesson I learned – finding contentment in the ordinary. Here’s something you may or may not know about me – I am the queen of high expectations. I create SUCH high expectations for myself and for others. I put lots of pressure on big days like birthdays and anniversaries. Sometimes, it’s good, because it pushes me to be the best I can be. But most of the time, it’s really not a good thing because it can make me feel resentful when things don’t work out how I planned. Thankfully, God broke down a few walls in my heart by using our experience with Owen’s less-than-ideal birth story. Here’s how: Going into the hospital, I had the big sister/little brother shirts. I had the big sister gift. I had the picture poses worked out and exactly how my two kiddos would meet for the first time. I was all kinds of worked up about exactly how it would all shake down. It all mattered SO much, because – hello, you’ve seen the Facebook posts. People do these amazing things and I wanted that amazing experience too. And I was going to have it. I was going to be in control of these ridiculously trivial things and make them spectacular. And then, Owen was born. And he was blue – literally blue. And he wasn’t crying. And I never got to see his face because nurses swarmed in and took him. Something was wrong. When you’re in the midst of life and death, the trivial doesn’t matter. At one point, sitting on the hospital bed, I cried to my husband telling him I didn’t care how my babies met or what they wore. I just wanted my new baby to be healthy and I wanted to hold my little girl (it had been DAYS!) and I wanted us to all be together. That was all. Because I’d been living life mostly coasting from one blessing to another, I had allowed myself to get worked up about absolutely trivial things. Not just outfits and meeting plans, but about this person who didn’t like me or that person who had a problem that wasn’t my fault. I was letting little things like politics get under my skin. I was comparing myself and my schedule to so-and-so’s, trying to make myself a carbon copy of someone I felt had it all together, and getting frustrated with myself when I didn’t deliver. But then, the NICU happened. Suddenly, it didn’t matter who said what or what my daily schedule did or didn’t look like. None of the little things mattered anymore. The only thing that mattered was the safety of my family. The only thing that mattered was being connected to the Father – praying to Him nonstop was the critical thing, not making nonstop summer plans that made me seem like I had it all together. Sitting in a hospital room without my baby, I was reminded of how many times people in the Bible were commanded to be still. Owen’s birth was a be still moment for me. It made me stop and focus on nothing and no one else except the One who could heal him. It made me pray without ceasing, not check social media without ceasing. It made me lean on His understanding and not my own. There is a reason we are able to count it all joy when we fall into trials, because God is working in us and producing something great within us. In the midst of trials, God is gifting us with peace and endurance and strength and wisdom. In difficulty, God is able to remove the hard parts of our hearts (in my case, too high of expectations) and replace them with His peace and love and hope. That is why we rejoice when things are hard. That is why we can sit in a room, crying and scared, and experience a peace that passes understanding. He doesn’t always take away the hurt, but He always provides the blessing of peace and assurance. His presence does that. And how thankful am I that even though my baby wasn’t present with me in the room after he was born, my God was there. Never leaving and never forsaking; teaching me to let go of things that don’t matter and focus solely on what does – Him.

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Not Your Old Wives Tale

If there is one thing that all pregnant women do, it’s look up the old wives tales to figure out either the gender of their baby or why they’re experiencing weird symptoms. I’ve been guilty of both. Initially, I began looking at all the old wives tales about whether we were having a boy or a girl, and since finding out, I’ve been looking at all of the weird things again wondering if maybe one of them would explain how dry my face has been.

It’s funny to me how much stock some people put in these old wives tales, because in reality, they’re just guesses from people who were probably pretty wise, and half the time right. So, people started listening. If you add up all of the old wives tales out there for gender prediction, I think more than half said we would be having a girl, and the other, smaller percentage was actually accurate. So while it’s nice to know what these people thought, I didn’t put much stock in it and I’m glad I didn’t.

Now, what does any of this have to do with anything?

I think we are living in an age where we have so much access to the “old wives tales” that we sometimes forget to go to the true source. You would have told me I was foolish if I had taken the word of the ladies who said I should look at whether the baby is sitting high/low in my stomach instead of taking the word of my ultrasound technician who literally showed me the anatomy of my child. That would be crazy. And yet, how often, in religious circles, are we taking the word of the “old wives” and neglecting what The Word has to say?

Here’s what Scripture says:

 Now the Spirit expressly says that in latter times some will depart from the faith, giving heed to deceiving spirits and doctrines of demons, speaking lies in hypocrisy, having their own conscience seared with a hot iron, forbidding to marry, and commanding to abstain from foods which God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth. For every creature of God is good, and nothing is to be refused if it is received with thanksgiving; for it is sanctified by the word of God and prayer.

If you instruct the brethren in these things, you will be a good minister of Jesus Christ, nourished in the words of faith and of the good doctrine which you have carefully followed. But reject profane and old wives’ fables, and exercise yourself toward godliness (1 Tim. 4:1-7). 

We get into endless debates and arguments over what so-and-so thinks and what he/she said you should do about this or that and never once go to the Word and decide if it is even an issue that ought to be discussed. There are so many doctrines in Scripture that must be held to closely and tightly, while there are also many areas of liberty that we must give each other grace in.

When you run into an issue – who to vote for, if you should vote, what you should eat, how you should teach your children – don’t run to Facebook, run to the Word. Don’t run to our modern-day profane fables, run to truth. Make your own decisions based out of the Scripture, not based off of what so and so says. As you know if you’ve been reading my blog for any amount of time, I will never shy away from proclaiming the Word of God. However, I also know that there are tons and tons of areas of personal liberty, and you’re not going to find me giving hard and fast rules about those issues. It ultimately doesn’t matter what I do or what I think you should do. You are to work out your own salvation with fear and trembling. You must decide what things go against your conscience and what things do not. If we had lived in the first century, it wouldn’t have been permissible for me to try to sway you into eating meats; instead, I was instructed to honor your conscience and leave you alone about it – knowing that salvation isn’t about what we eat.

If voting for a certain candidate is against your conscience, shame on me for telling you that you must vote for them. If you decide to send your children to a public school, shame on me for telling you that you have to school them at home. If you feel like you can wear pants to worship, shame on me for telling you there’s something wrong with you because you aren’t wearing a dress. If there is anything that is a matter of personal liberty, I am not supposed to be campaigning for my side to win out in your life. I am not supposed to judge you for your choice, but to assume the best about you because I love you! In the areas where you are learning toward legalism (like the brothers  in the first century who didn’t eat meat), I am to bear with you and not despise you for not doing things like me (Romans 14:3). In the areas where you are more free in what you do, I am not to judge you for those choices (Romans 14:3). In everything – in every area of personal liberty – “let us not judge one another anymore, but rather resolve this, not to put a stumbling block or a cause to fall in our brother’s way” (Romans 14:13).

As with all areas of our lives, we are to do everything in love. We are to assume the best about our brothers and sisters. We are to bear with them, be patient with them, and to be kind. We are to encourage and exhort without being condescending, judgmental, or harsh. We are to base our decisions on scripture – nothing else – and allow others to do the same in regards to their Christian lives. And we we differ (on matters that don’t matter), we are always, always, always to be Christlike about our differences, otherwise it becomes something that matters – we have become false teachers.

Like I said, though, there are many things that are not left up to each individual’s decision. You cannot make the call on whether or not to be baptized – scripture clearly says that you must. You do not get to make the call on whether you should assemble with others for worship or have your own personal worship, whether you can worship with or without instruments, or whether you should take communion every week – those things have already been decided. The good news is – when we will base all decisions on God’s holy and divine word, we will know what areas are commands and what areas are liberties (or, worse, just profane fables leading others astray). Don’t leave it up to someone else to decide for you. Don’t let someone tell you something is a liberty when the Bible says it’s absolutely a command; equally as important, though, is to not let someone tell you something is a command when the Bible says it’s absolutely a liberty. Rightly divide the word of truth and you’ll be just fine. The Bible is plain and easy to understand; deep and complete and more than adequate to guide us in 2019. You can do it. Dig in and find the rich truths that it has to offer; don’t rely on the old wives tales to help you get to heaven. They might just keep you from it.

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Guard Your Marriage

I recently did an episode on my podcast about guarding our marriages, and it apparently resonated with women. Maybe it’s because this isn’t something we talk about a lot. We talk about ways to serve our husbands and how we’re called to submission. We’re told to go to marriage retreats and to read books about having a godly marriage. But how often are we admonished to guard our marriages? Perhaps not nearly enough.

Here’s what we know about Satan: he “walks about like a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour” (1 Pet. 5:8). From the beginning (like, the very beginning), he has sought to divide marriages. He doesn’t want couples serving God together, because he knows “two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, For he has no one to help him up” (Ecc. 4:9-10). Satan wants you to fall, but he doesn’t want you to get up. He definitely doesn’t want you to have someone there to help when you do. Therefore, he wants to destroy your marriage. Especially if it’s one that is useful for the cause of Christ.

So how can we guard our marriages? How can we make sure we are actively fortifying our hearts and guarding a relationship that we know is very precious in God’s sight?

I think it starts by examining your life from the outside. Are all of your Facebook profile pictures just selfies or is your Instagram account full of you? Is your marriage celebrated on any social network? Do your coworkers know you’re married? Do your coworkers know you love and honor your husband, or do they hear complaints about your marriage more often than not? Who do you turn to when the inevitable hard times of marriage come? Do you complain to a member of the opposite sex, seeking approval from a man you have no business having the approval of? Do you find comfort in bashing your husband and exposing his weaker attributes, even to someone “safe” like your mom or sisters? If one or more of these things are true, then perhaps we aren’t guarding our marriages like we should, because guarding our marriages first starts with guarding ourselves. If we are not constantly guarding our tongues from complaining and gossip, then our marriages are going to be left vulnerable. If we are not guarding our hearts from lust and sinful affections, we are leaving a huge hole exposed for the enemy to crawl in and defeat our marriage.

Next, we must set up guard rails in our marriage. Sometimes, when I’m driving down the road, I wonder why so many miles and miles and miles of guard rails are necessary. Why would anyone just drive that far off the road? But then, as I am driving and come across an accident that has been prevented because a car was stopped from driving head-on into oncoming traffic, I understand. Without guard rails, things are worse. You hope they aren’t necessary at all, but if they are, you’re glad they’re there. So set them up in your marriage. Make a rule about time spent alone with the opposite sex. Set up rules about communicating with your husband if a man has had private correspondence with you. Make it a rule in your own heart that every man you encounter knows that nothing he can say or do is private between only you and him. Everything – everything – is to be filtered through your husband. Seem extreme? It’s a guard rail. Perhaps you become so close to a member of the opposite sex, be it similar personalities or a shared sense of humor, that you are tempted to start comparing him to your husband? Maybe a joke crosses the line only once, but it opens a door for inappropriate thinking. We must make sure every interaction is shared, because our holiness and purity in marriage is far more important.

Finally, we must seek contentment. Contentment in marriage is not something that happens based on who your husband is or isn’t. Contentment in marriage comes from a contentment that you have in Christ. If you lack contentment in your marriage, it is not your husband’s fault – regardless of how he acts. Lacking contentment in marriage is a selfishness problem. It means we are focused on our needs and our desires behind fulfilled above anything else. However, the Bible instructs us to have an “agape” love for our husbands, which is a choice we make to put his best interest above our own. It is not in your husband’s best interest that you have an affair, or check out mentally of your marriage. It is not in your husband’s best interest that you complain about him constantly, speak down to him, defy his authority, or question his leadership. Not only that, though, but none of those things are in your best interest. When we let our guard down in marriage and allow ungodliness and unholiness to enter, we have allowed sin into our hearts and thus have separated ourselves from God. There is nothing worse than that. That is why we must must must choose to seek after contentment in Christ; to find our joy and strength and peace and purpose in Him. We will never have happy marriages if we are not content in Christ. We will have marriages that are unguarded and at risk of a massive destruction.

There is nothing more selfish than an affair, even if you claim that it’s only because your husband isn’t ______ enough. In the ways you feel that your husband doesn’t meet your needs, rely upon God to sustain you, not Satan to entertain you. And ultimately, at its core, that’s what an affair is: seeking Satan’s attention and care instead of seeking peace with God. So guard your marriage. Don’t give place for a physical or emotional affair. Don’t let any fiery dart penetrate a relationship that God Himself has joined together. Look into the mirror and analyze what you’re projecting about yourself and your marriage, set up guard rails, and seek contentment in Christ. Guarding our marriages is worth any and every amount of effort we can pour into it, because God has said we “are no longer two but one flesh. Therefore what God has joined together, let not man separate” (Mat. 19:6).

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What Postpartum Depression Doesn’t Mean

You may or may not know, but I am pregnant with my second child. My husband and I found out pretty early – I was only around 4 weeks pregnant (and already getting sick, yay!). As you might know if you have a child, the joy that comes from those initial moments after finding out (all the while having some fears about miscarriage) is overwhelming. You know that there is life inside of you and it is so extremely exciting every step of the way.

Unless you’ve had postpartum depression. Then, people’s comments can sometimes make that hard.

Here are some things I heard when we told people we were having another baby:

“Oh, are you happy about *it?” 

“Did you plan for *it?”

“I didn’t think you were going to have anymore children since you had such a hard time after your first.” 

“I was convinced you were done.” 

Here’s the thing about postpartum depression – having it doesn’t mean I don’t love my child or want more children. Having it doesn’t mean I hate being a mom. Having it doesn’t mean that I don’t want to have anything to do with children and that I don’t want to risk having it again by having another child.

Having postpartum depression was not a choice I made based on how hard being a mom is. It was not something I decided I’d go through. It is a mental illness. And just like all other illnesses, you have to treat it and go on. If it isn’t curable, you have to endure and persevere and pray pray pray, but you just go on. While mood disorders and mental health issues seem different because they often affect only the moods and minds of those who are suffering instead of the physical appearance, some might want to categorize them as made up or not that bad. Some even told me that life situations had something to do with the fact that I got postpartum depression after my first child was born. You wouldn’t say someone who is in a toxic relationship that that relationship somehow created a heart defect that sent them to the emergency room, or that someone who was going through a very stressful time in their life brought leukemia upon themselves. These are all statements and mindsets born out of foolishness. No one wants a mental illness. But having a mental illness doesn’t define you. Yes, I had postpartum depression. But having that didn’t define me or my motherhood.

I love my daughter so much I feel like my heart could explode. Even in those early days when I knew something was wrong – because I didn’t want to hold her to touch her – I never doubted I loved her. I have endured and triumphed and overcome because of my love for her and because of my trust in God’s plan for me. Having postpartum depression didn’t make me regret having her; nothing could be farther from the truth. I will gladly endure having postpartum depression again if it means I get to love my little boy like I love his big sister.

A child is not a burden; a child is always always always a blessing. And while my motherhood journey thus far hasn’t been everything I thought it would be before I had kids, it is exactly what God always knew it would be. I am thankful to be in His care, and thankful for my sweet babies – both of them – and no amount of mental illness will change that. It will make some days hard, for sure. But on those hard days, please be a part of the solution and not the problem. Reach out to those you know who are struggling and offer encouragement and support and joy and a listening ear. Even if your “advice” is from a sincere place, please guard your tongue from things that could be potentially devastating to those of us who have a very fragile mental state.

Yes, I had postpartum depression. Yes, I could have it again. Yes, statistically if you’ve had it once you are more likely to have it again. Yes, some statistics say it could be a higher probability if you are having a boy. But YES, I love my children. YES, I want and adore this baby boy. YES, I will endure whatever I have to in this life to be faithful to my God, even if it isn’t something I want to have to deal with.

*As a complete and total aside, when you talk to women about their baby and their pregnancy, can you not say it? I understand that it’s easier to say “do you know what it is yet?” when the gender hasn’t been revealed, but listen – the life inside of a mother’s womb is just that, a life. And she is not “expecting” a baby, she has one. She is not “going to be” a mother and my daughter is not “going to be” a big sister. When you get pregnant, you have a baby. You are a mother. Mary was called Jesus’ mother when he was still in her womb, as was Elizabeth with John the Baptist. Life begins at conception – so let’s talk about life like it’s life.

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Not the Greatest

Recently, my husband led our Bible class in a discussion on Luke 1. One of his observations from the text was that the entire passage discusses John the Baptist as great, but not the greatest. Even as his birth is being foretold, he is going to do great things, sure,  but he is going to be doing them unto the Lord who is quickly coming behind him. Just a few months after John is born, Jesus the Messiah will come. And while John will be doing great, important Kingdom work, he isn’t the focus. Most people, once Jesus arrives and begins His ministry, will forget about John.

I don’t know about you, but sometimes I struggle in my John role. This season of life has put me in a very distinctively John position. Now there’s an extent to which all of us are Johns in that we aren’t Jesus and we will never be the ones receiving glory or even trying to receive that glory that wholly and absolutely belongs to Christ. But certainly there are people doing kingdom work who are forefront, public eye people, and then there are those who are just never meant to be in the spotlight. I think about Paul and Silas (Silas is important, but we don’t hear much about him). Peter, John – they become super important apostles, but what of the rest? What does Matthias end up doing? Thomas? Peter’s own brother, Andrew? Probably great work for the kingdom. We just don’t know, and aren’t meant to.

I’m more used to an out there role. Involved in the Bible study, teaching the classes, writing all the things. But right now, I’m John. I’m Silas. I’m Thomas. I’m really trying to work, but I’m not the one you’re gonna see. I rarely even see myself as doing all the work in the kingdom. I see my role as less somehow, and that’s difficult.

The truth is, my role is important. It’s important that I watch Anna so her daddy can study with others. It’s important that I take on some long ‘single parent’ hours so my husband can minister to others and do out there, noticeable kingdom work. It’s hard. It doesn’t feel important. It seems messy and less somehow. But it isn’t. Robert is going to be getting any work done if he’s constantly interrupted by an inquisitive 2 year old. Bible studies aren’t going to be effective when you’re constantly having to stop and say, excuse me, let me wrangle this wild child.

Let me be clear: no part of Kingdom work is about us. Ever. God always gives the increase. All that we do is about giving glory to God. But there are some members of the body who are arms and legs and feet and eyes and noses and mouths. And then there are those of us who are valves, tendons, nerves. Important, vital parts, just not necessarily ones you think of often. Not ones that get a lot of attention unless they’re not working. That can be discouraging sometimes, especially if you’re used to being a different role. But all of us, so long as we are working for the Master, are important to His cause. All of us, so long as we are working for His glory and in His will, are useful and effective. Even if you don’t feel like it. Even if you feel useless or little or small. You are important. Your work is important. Keep working for Him.

I’m encouraged by both John the Baptist and his parents because they knew their role would always be secondary in the narrative, and they embraced it. It was never about them; it was always about whatever way they could contribute to God’s great, unfolding plan. May the same be said of all of us. Not about us Lord, ever. “Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us, But to Your name give glory, Because of Your mercy, Because of Your truth”  (Psalm 115:1).

  —

As a total aside, can I just say how blessed I am to be the help meet to my husband? I have confidence that every single day, he is involved in great work for the Lord. There aren’t words to describe how that fills my heart with joy and love and pride and happiness and every kind of fullness from the Lord. I am so, so thankful that God has allowed me to have this role – albeit secondary – to my husband. It is a blessing and honor from God, and I know He sees me and sees our marriage and blesses it because it is all about Him. I pray it always will be. And I pray that at my weakest moments — my frustrated, struggling moments — my husband also knows that I am thankful for this role, this life we have together. Sometimes I might get to be his Priscilla, but other times, I might be Peter’s wife. And that’s ok. Because God is so, so good, and blesses and blesses again. 

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Reprioritizing Worship

(This post first appeared on the blog Perspectives of a Preacher’s Wife.)

  We go to worship regularly. As the preacher’s family, we’re always there. Bible classes, devotionals, special series, week-long meetings, seminars – we’re there. It’s a priority. But this year, I don’t want to just make “being there” the priority, I want to make engaging in worship the priority. I want to make worship about what I do, not where I go on Sundays.

My two-year-old has inspired me in this area, because she says things that are much more profound than she intends for them to be. For example, one of her great friends at church is a song leader (one of many at our congregation). Every week, she looks at me and asks, “Gary praise the Lord?” She doesn’t ask if he’s leading singing or if he’s singing her favorite song, she asks if he’s going to lead us in praising the Lord. Sadly, shamefully, her focus is better than mine.

Too often, I’m bent out of shape about this or that regarding worship. Maybe I’m dreading how little of the sermon I’ll actually hear between the wrangling and the shushing. Maybe the song leader didn’t sing my favorite song, or – gasp- led it incorrectly. Maybe someone’s phone went off and it left me perturbed. Maybe I was too focused on what I wasn’t getting to do (have an entirely quiet and reflective Lord’s Supper) instead of keeping my mind right when it was possible.

This year, I want to be better. I want to reprioritize worship in my life – not the going, but the doing. I want to go to worship with the intent of praising the Lord. I want to fully engage my heart in worship each and every week. I want to stop focusing on the worldly, stop focusing on the people aspect, stop focusing on my motherhood aspect, and start fully engaging in praise to the One who made the universe and the only One worthy of worship.

Are there going to be distractions in worship? Yes. People are worshiping, after all. But I am ready to stop allowing those distractions to become excuses as to why I am not worshiping my Creator like I should; like He deserves.

This year, this brand new year ahead of us, can be a good one. It can be a great one. It will be great if we will fully engage our hearts and minds in worship. I’m committed to reprioritizing worship this year. Will you join me?

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Acting Like Sisters

(In case you missed the announcement, and you probably did in the deafening silence of my blog nowadays, I am now a guest writer on the blog Perspectives of a Preacher’s Wife. This post first appeared there.)

I grew up with two older sisters.

When I was in first grade, I was riding the school bus and being harassed by a boy in my grade. He was twisting my arm around and being just plain mean. It took only moments for my oldest sister (a middle schooler) to see what was happening and jump in to help me get out from under the burden I clearly couldn’t handle on my own.

When I was in late elementary school (and sharing a room with my other sister), I had a terrible, terrible nightmare. Sleepwalking included. It was so bad I still remember it more than 20 years later. My sister calmly got out of bed, sat me down on her own bed (because I had crossed the room and was near her), and helped me calm down. She came to my side when I needed her most.

Ok, last one.

When I was about 15, my sisters sat me down and taught me how to tweeze my eyebrows. I didn’t know I needed this, but my ignorance was quite evident in my near-unibrow. They saw my need and taught me without embarrassing me or making me feel stupid. They just helped. And I still remember sitting and laughing (and crying, because, tweezers!) with my sisters in my bedroom, because they took the time to see my need and teach me.

What does all of this mean, especially as it relates to my perspective as a preacher’s wife?

It’s like this: I live approximately 500 miles away from my sisters. Actually, my husband and I live 500 miles away from any physical family members. That means we don’t have our daughter’s grandparents to pop over and babysit if a need arises. We don’t have our dads to come over and help repair…whatever decides to break this week. Our moms aren’t available to come over and help us fix meals or watch Anna while we clean or run errands. Our siblings aren’t around to go out to eat with or plan fun outings with. But do you know who IS here? Our church family. And they fill every single one of those needs. We’ve got surrogate parents, grandparents, brothers, sisters, and everything in between. Let me tell you, I don’t know what I would do without them. I know we would have had to pay a lot of money to hire movers instead of letting our church family load us up and move us across town. I know I would have been completely ill-equipped for motherhood if I didn’t have older sisters in Christ who taught me all about car seats and baby-wearing and feeding and (insert everything else because I was so clueless). The list could go on and on.

I don’t know what kind of congregation you find yourself in. I grew up in a place where it seemed everyone was related somehow, or at least all went to high school together 30 years earlier. I’ve been places where everyone is literally related. Or you might be in a congregation like the one I am now, where there are few large family units, but mostly it’s just a lot of us out on our own. Wherever you find yourself, can I encourage you to reach out to your brothers and sisters? Surely there’s someone in your congregation you don’t know as well as others. Could you help them with a burden they can’t handle on their own? Could you go to their side when they are in a time of need? Could you be close enough to them to see when they need teaching and/or correcting and go to them in humility, without judgment or a “holier than thou” attitude? That’s what siblings do.

Christians should be able to depend solely on the relationships they form with other members of the body. How many of us are physically isolated or spiritually isolated from family? How many are widows? How many have lost a parent or child? How many of us need other people? God knew and knows we do. And that’s why He gave us the church.

I was blessed to grow up with sisters who cared about me and looked out for me. It is my prayer that we can all be the same way within our congregations. As members of the church, we have a responsibility to one another. To hold up, to stand beside, to reach out, and to help. We understand this from a physical family member side; let’s live it out in the spiritual family member side, too.

Being a Christian is a blessing. God has richly blessed us with every spiritual blessing (Eph. 1:3

). One of those immensely great blessings is being a part of a body whose head is Christ and whose members are part of one another (Rom. 12:5

).

This week, reach out to your brothers and sisters. Be vulnerable and tell them you need them, then take the initiative to be there when (and even before!) they need you.

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The One Thing

Knock knock. Who’s there? Me. Yeah, I’m sure you’ve forgotten who I am by now.

In 2018, I wrote ten blog posts. That’s not even one a month, for those 3 of you who are worse at math than I am. That’s down from a meager 14 posts in 2017. Needless to say, I have become the person I never wanted to be – the person who doesn’t write. Given, I did accomplish a lifelong dream in 2018, publishing a book, which is no small task. But still, my writing world began in elementary school. This has always been my outlet. Blogging has always been a part of me — an appendage — before, during, an after blogging was cool. It’s something I’ve always enjoyed, and definitely something I’ve missed.

Going completely against the spirit of the new year season, I’m not going to be making any resolutions for blogging more or doing so much so many times a month. That’s just not going to happen. One, I do still have a weekly podcast that I need to keep working at, and that definitely takes some time. Two, I have a toddler. Enough said. Three, I have another little one on the way. The second half of my year is already committed to resting and mom-ing.

So what does any of this pointless rambling mean?

It means that wherever you are, in whatever busy stage you find yourself in, you can and should do whatever is best for you. If you are passionate about something and can do it, do it. Spread the good news! Do good! If you are busy and stressed and snippy with everyone because you’re overcommitted, back off. It’s ok. Only one thing is necessary, and that is making sure you are being faithful to listening to Jesus and being His disciple. Everything else is extra, and sometimes, it just flat out gets in the way.

Isn’t that the conversation Jesus had with Martha? She was serving. She was welcoming people into her home to listen to Jesus teach. But then she missed it. She got distracted with too much good, and it turned her kind of mean and complainy. She blamed her sister, blamed the Lord (!!), and missed an opportunity to sit at Jesus’ feet and simply be still and be in His presence.

If we overexert for the sake of doing all the things, we are likely going to become worried and troubled over many things. Jesus says stop. Be still. Listen to me. That’s the good part. Don’t miss the good part.

I may or may not blog sometimes this year. If I do, it’ll be a worthy endeavor. I will continue doing my podcast as much as I can, and when I can, it’ll be good and helpful to others (I pray). But when I can’t, and my days look more like unshowered hot messes of drool and poopy diapers and toddler tantrums and unwashed clothes and dishes, it will be ok. At least, it can be ok…if I’ll stop and focus on the one thing that matters. Jesus.

If I get so caught up in the stuff (and I have) that I want to do or can do, yet I miss communing with my Lord, I have turned into Martha. If I am busy serving all the people, even the littlest people in my own home, but I miss sitting and learning at Jesus’ feet, I have turned into Martha. If I am more concerned with meal plans or potty training or conquering laundry mountain or being the cool mom, and I let my time alone in the Word fall by the wayside (my toes are hurting, ouch), I have turned into Martha. I don’t want to be that Martha. I want to be the Martha who learned this lesson the Lord gave her, and then followed Him closely, and knew He could help her brother. The Martha who knew Jesus was Lord and lived as such.

This year, I’m not really making many resolutions or promises to do or be something special. Instead, I’m just trying to keep telling myself to choose the one thing, the good thing, and let everything else fall where it may.

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The Impatient Way

I am notorious for taking whichever way is quickest. If there are two lines to turn in traffic, I will always take the shortest. My husband will not. He will always take the one that leads to his destination. If we have to turn right after our left turn, he will stay in the right lane, even if the left is shorter. It may be longer. He may have to sit through another round of lights, but it’s the one that will get him where he needs to go without weaving and struggling and fighting traffic. Not me. I’m the weaver. I want the shortcuts. I want to go fast. I am, I guess you could say, impatient.

As I was sitting the passenger seat not long ago, watching as my husband chose his lane (and not the one I would have chosen), I realized that I am exactly how most people are. Most people are impatient. Most people want the way that will be faster or easier or a shortcut. That’s why people weave in and out of traffic instead of just choosing a lane and staying put. We get irritated when people go slow, or when they cut us off, or when they do something we don’t want to do (like getting in a longer line of traffic!). We are impatient, and we want to do what we want to do, and not wait on anyone else or allow anyone else to get in our way.

Isn’t this exactly why people choose the broad way that leads to destruction? No one sets out thinking, “you know what would be great? Going to eternal fire and brimstone and suffering.” Instead, people want their way. People want to go fast, get the best spot, have an easy, fast, inconvenience-free journey. People don’t want hinderances — being told they can’t do this or shouldn’t do that or should do these things that aren’t necessarily convenient. People don’t want to be told to give up their own agendas and schedules for an entire day of the week so they can go worship. People don’t like being told they should quench their thirst for fornication and lust; instead, they want to drink it all in. Do whatever feels good.

It takes patience to be a Christian. It isn’t always convenient. Actually, if it’s convenient at all, it likely isn’t Christianity. Because being a Christian means telling self no and telling God yes. It means denying self and pursuing holiness. It means not taking shortcuts, but walking a strait path of sanctification and suffering. Walking through the valley of heartache and persecution and mistreatments of all sorts in order to claim the name of Christ. It means telling my evil desires that they have no place in my heart. It means constantly battling against self. It means not taking the easy way, but instead, pursuing patience in an effort to be pleasing to God.

I don’t like to do things the slow and steady way. I don’t like to sit through a light unnecessarily, even if that means I have to cut someone off in the process. But that’s not the right way to think. The right way to think is to do things right, regardless of if it takes longer or requires more. The right way isn’t always the easy way, but easy doesn’t mean right. Easy rarely means right.

Jesus promises that at the end of the narrow, strait way, there is peace and joy and a glorious meeting of our Savior and our Father face to face. He also promises that if we take the broad way – the impatient way – the way that fulfills our own desires instead of fulfilling our righteous calling – then we are guaranteed eternal punishment. It’s easier to go that way. It’s easier not to tell yourself no. It’s easier to take the short route, the fast way. But its end is death. Make no mistake about that.

Whatever temptations you have in this life — whatever things you might want to think or do that are apart from God’s will for you — I am begging you to not give into. You are heading down a dangerous path. It may seem like the right choice for you now. It may be the most fun. It may be the easiest. But it is.not.worth.it.

The Christian walk isn’t easy. Denying self isn’t easy. But our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ came to this earth and showed us the way. He calls us to that holy way. Follow Him. Don’t follow you.

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Scrambled Eggs and God’s Great Love

The morning started out similarly to every morning: Anna was eating breakfast and I was consuming inordinate amounts of caffeine trying to wake up. She had some scrambled eggs and honey, and had already been pushing the limits with how much honey she was getting everywhere. Her listening skills weren’t necessarily on point, but I was doing my best to be patient. Toward the end of breakfast, she grabbed the final bit of scrambled eggs and held it over the edge of her highchair. She knows she’s not allowed to drop food on the floor. I looked and her and sternly told her no. She looked back and me and then dropped the food on the floor anyway. She was immediately punished, and her tears flowed freely.

We talked about what it means to obey, and that even Mommy and Daddy have to obey what God says. There are things that God says not to do – called sins – and we cannot do those things, even if we want to. When we do them when God says not to, we get punished, too. But that punishment doesn’t mean God doesn’t love us, and Anna’s punishment didn’t mean I didn’t love her. It just meant she had to learn to obey.

After a few minutes of hugs and reassurance, Anna looked up at me and said, “Mommy, I sorry it happened.” Now I was the one crying.

Oftentimes, we think about repenting of our sins from our perspective – as a way of escaping the punishment we’re due. And rightly so! Thanks be to God for His amazing gift (Jesus!) that makes it possible for us to escape that punishment! But do we stop and think about how much God loves us, even in the moments that we’ve messed up? Even in the moments when we’ve willfully and purposefully dropped the eggs? No part of me didn’t love Anna anymore, even though she did something she wasn’t supposed to. And I’m just a human! I am not capable of infinite love. I am not wholly and completely love. But God is. God is love! And even when we hurt Him and disobey Him, He loves us. He wants us to say we’re sorry, of course, and when we do, He welcomes us with open arms and hugs and kisses, and He is ecstatic that He can restore us to our place in His family.

I am thankful for subtle, every day reminders of how much God loves me. I am imperfect, but I know how to love my daughter. God is perfect, so how much more does He know how to love His children? When He tells us to abstain from certain things, it isn’t because He doesn’t love us – but just the opposite! He wants us to go to heaven. He sees our future and knows what is best for us — life eternal with Him. Sin will keep us from that eternal destination, and so He tells us what to do and what not to do, and how we can live a life that pleases Him.

Some people want to see the Bible as a bunch of rules, but really, it’s a guidebook from a loving Father who sees the end from the beginning and wants His children to be with Him forever. It’s a roadmap to eternity with Him. We would all do well to remember God as our Father, and to fully trust in Him and obey Him all the days of our lives.

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Exposed: The World’s Lies and Deceptions Uncovered

In 2008, I traveled to Rome, Italy. It was the first Biblical site I ever visited, and from the moment I stepped foot in the Eternal City, I was changed. From dark, damp prisons to burial places of our brothers and sisters in Jesus, every place I visited in Rome gave me a new appreciation of the Biblical text. From Rome, my travels would take me to Corinth, Crete, Ephesus, Patmos, each of the seven churches of Asia, Colossae, Hierapolis, Assos, and other Biblical sites throughout Greece and Turkey. Every step changed my heart.

In my new book, Exposed: The World’s Lies and Deceptions Uncovered, I dive into the geography and Biblical texts surrounding these first century locations. I have walked in these exact places. I have seen the landscape that my first century bothers and sisters saw. And, I face the same enemy today that they faced then.

Exposed is all about the tactics Satan used to lure first century Christians away from their Savior; the same tactics he’s using on us. If we will equip ourselves with a knowledge of the enemy and his wily schemes, we will be able to fight him off. While times have changed, the world hasn’t. The same temptations come upon us that came upon our first century brethren. It is my prayer that this book will help you resist the devil so that he will flee from you.

Each chapter of this book explores a Biblical place, a passage, and a main point. Questions are included at the end of each chapter for both introspection and discussion. I am prayerful that this book will be of value in both personal studies and group studies.

You can preorder Exposed by visiting thelightnetwork.tv/exposed. If you order within the next few days, you will receive the ebook for free! Copies will also be made available at Polishing the Pulpit at The Light Network’s booth.

Satan is only as powerful as we allow him to be. If we will arm ourselves with knowledge of his schemes, we will be able to fight him off more easily. After all, he seeks to destroy us. He wants us to fall away from our God. But we can resist. We can say NO! I am prayerful that this book will help you do just that.

The post Exposed: The World’s Lies and Deceptions Uncovered appeared first on Emily Hatfield.

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Change Your Mind

One of my favorite bands is Sister Hazel, and they have a song called “Change Your Mind.” These words have become especially meaningful in the last two years as I have struggled with postpartum depression:

If you want to be somebody else, If you’re tired of fighting battles with yourself If you want to be somebody else Change your mind

Mental illness is a daily battle with yourself. It’s your mind telling you one thing – lies, mostly – while deep inside, you know better. You know that you are worth fighting for. You know your life is worth living. You know Jesus died for you and that makes you special. But the mind is tricky when it’s not firing correctly. And there are many, many days when I have cried into my pillow thinking that I just don’t want to do this anymore. Any of it. I don’t want to be wife, a mom, a person. I’m done.

And then I think of this song. Change your mind.

It is difficult in the midst of a hard day to change your mind. That is why it is so important to spend time thinking about your mental health on the good days. Or, on the ok days. On the days when you don’t feel like giving up, focus on every single good thing you possibly can. But before doing even that, make sure you change your mind about mental illness.

If you constantly dwell on why me,  you will miss the beautiful opportunities you have been given —  opportunities to reach out and help those who are in the midst of a dark day. If you give in to the I’m damaged mindset, you’re missing opportunities to see the strength of God in your weakness. If you allow yourself to retreat, to stay away from worship, you are keeping yourself from a beautiful way God is trying to rejuvenate you and motivate you to keep on going.

So much of our Christian walk is about repentance, which literally means change the way you think. Sometimes, we have to repent, not of sin, but of a damaging way of thinking. We have to change the way we think about ourselves, about our worth, about our present situation. If we will dwell, not on the hurt of mental illness or the drastic difference in our now personality versus then personality, but on God’s grace and mercy and faithfulness, we will be able to find the light in our darkest moments. We will see our weakness for what it really is; a way to show the magnificent and unmatchable strength of our God to others.

If you struggle with mental illness of any stripe, please reach out to someone. But most importantly, reach up to your loving and all-knowing Father. He cares. He sees. He understands. He built your brain and He knows the changes that have taken place. And He loves you just as much and will use you, even in what you feel is a weakened state. Perhaps you can be used now in an even greater way than before. That’s the prayer, right?

Just remember – if you want to give up, change your mind. If you think you aren’t worth fighting for, change your mind. If you think you’re useless in the kingdom, change your mind. God can and will use you if you are willing to be used up in His service.

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