Is God Really There?

Someone asked me a question this week - what do you do when you don’t feel like God is there?

We ask ourselves this question in many different ways.  Why are you allowing this God?  Don’t you see what is happening?  Why don’t I feel your comfort?  Why is this trial still here?  Why don’t I see your hand in what’s happening?  How could you possibly work this for good?  Why does it feel as though my prayers hit the ceiling?  

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Entering the Battle

I forget sometimes.  I get living my life, worrying about the everyday things like meal planning and finishing school and I forget that every minute of every day we are in a battle.

Every day Satan is attacking the family.  Either my family, or your family, or those around us.  When my family almost fell apart, I was acutely aware of the battle.  And I put on my armour and fought hard against the enemy.  But when things calmed down, I forgot again.  

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The word small has been coming up in conversations between God and I lately.  When I spent two weeks with my kids and their stomach flu instead of editing the webinar I wanted to get out there.  When I’ve been trying to launch a book out into the world and the numbers are small.  When I’m thinking about still finding my place in this new life.  God keeps whispering small to me.  And although I have not fully grasped the whole concept of what He’s trying to tell me yet, He was very clear about one thing.  Forgiving the small.

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Hope and Grief

What if every time someone uttered our story, our pain, they immediately associated Jesus with it?  What if our reaction to pain was so hope-filled, so pure and so righteous, that people automatically knew that we must have a relationship with Jesus?  What if every time we grieved, we didn’t hide it, but showed others what its like to grieve with the hope of Heaven in view?  

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“Everyone knew who I was.  ‘Seven demons’ they would whisper.  ‘Mary Magdalene is possessed by seven demons.’  You have no idea how I suffered.  The torment, the rejection, the sin.  There was no one to help me.  No one who really cared.”

Those words keep running through my mind.  Mary must have felt as if she was the most unloveable person in her world.  How would she ever be loved by another human being, let alone Jesus?  

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Are You Okay?

Are you okay?

Its a question we ask each other all the time.  Sometimes with genuine interest, sometimes just being polite.  But its kind of a strange question.  Are any of us ever really okay?  If you were to walk up to me right now and ask me that, I’d probably respond with a yes, but I can think of three things right now that have my mind going crazy.  And I don’t remember very many times in my life where I sat and thought, wow, I wouldn’t change a thing.  Everything is perfect.

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