A single slice of information, obtained from a very interesting audiobook listen a couple of months ago has stuck with me hard and fast — a fresh encouragement about a God Who is all seeing, all knowing, and intimately inthe details great and small.
If Astrophysics isn’t your thing, just bear with me… and let me quote the source on this one.
“Newton’s Laws specifically state that while the gravity of a planet gets weaker and weaker the farther from it you travel, there is no distance where the force of gravity reaches zero.” (Neil DeGrasse Tyson, Astrophysics for People in a Hurry)
Huh?
Okay. So anything that has mass has gravity. And objects with more mass? Yup. More gravity. This means that a mighty big planet, like Jupiter, which also has a mighty big gravitational field, can pull on objects quite, quite quite far away. Even though the gravitational pull diminishes as distance increases, it still exists. And (in this case) it pulls in or bats out of harm’s way many comets and other objects floating through space that would otherwise wreak havoc on the inner solar system, the part we call home.
Uh… what?
Well, this means Jupiter acts like a gravitational shieldfor Earth. Jupiter is like the cosmic big brother that has protected Earth from getting constantly slammed by asteroids that would make a stable life on our beautiful green-and-blue planet virtually impossible. Without that protection, Earth would have a hard time being an inhabitable planet — we would constantly be living out Deep Impact, or whatever that other movie with Liv Tyler was.
So why is this even worth a mention?
It is absolutely glorious — I’m inspired by a fresh sense of wonder — that the existence of other planets inside our solar system could have any impact on life on Earth whatsoever, let alone be seen as a crucial part of the system that allows us to live on our beautiful planet. I’ve often imagined our incredible Creator flinging stars into space — but I’ve never imagined Him setting up the cosmos in such a strategic way, with infinite knowledge of how the very existence of any object will have some sort of impact on every other object in creation.
And if the God who knows all this, and does all this, knows me, and loves me? Then He must also be intimately aware of my every circumstance because it really, truly all matters more than we can even possibly conceive. Your second grade teacher. That first heart break. The time you stubbed your toe so hard it bled. The job interview that was a big fat NO. He sees it, He knows it, and He is in the business of weaving all things — from your shoe size to the location of the planets in the cosmos — together for the good of those who love Him.
So what are you walking through today? Does it seem like a mountain that needs climbing? Or do you feel like you’re facing something that is completely insignificant to everyone else? Can I encourage you with two simple words today?
It matters.
You are seen and known and so deeply loved, you’re worth dying for. If you’re struggling to hold that truth deep down, and believe it, remember that even the planets of the solar system are contributing to this one rare, amazing, precious life of yours. *Snaps for Jupiter*
In all the universe, there is only one God, and He has set His affections on you.
xCC
“But know that the Lord has set apart for Himself him who is godly; The Lord will hear when I call to Him.” {Psalm 4:3}
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Just a heads up so we’re on the same page! My blog posts and emails sometimes contain Amazon affiliate links. When you click on those links to make a purchase, I receive a teensy compensation at no cost to you. I’m grateful when you do that! Thanks for supporting With Love, From Here.
Hey friends! I know I’ve been saying this good ol’ Love, From Here will be back into a regular routine soon… and then it isn’t … but I think I’ve finally turned a few corners and let go of a few commitments that will allow me to continue writing and encouraging your hearts. Thank you so much for your patience and your consistent encouragement, for sharing and for praying! More love and more news to come…
*** “You can’t sit with us!”
It’s hard not to feel a little guilty leap of heart happy when Regina George, the Queen of Rejecting Others gets rejected by her own hive of bees at lunch. If you haven’t seen Mean Girls, just know that this is the moment when the meanest of the Mean Girls gets a taste of her own medicine.
When someone else is getting rejected, let’s be honest, we can feel a mix of emotions. If we feel the rejection is deserved, maybe we’re okay with it. But I don’t think too many of us feel overwhelmingly happy when rejection points its unpleasant finger in our direction and says Nope, not you.
Lately I’ve been experiencing a new type of rejection that I think I was probably so afraid of I didn’t even want to try, for fear of rejection.
While *not* being particularly busy writing in this neck of the woods, I’ve still been doing some writing, including working and reworking and thinking and rethinking a picture book and then wording and rewording a picture book, tentatively called She Curtsied for the Queen.
I won’t outline the story for you here (as I hope you’ll get to read a lovely, fully-illustrated and well-edited version of it someday) but I’ll tell you it’s one of those things that arrived by surprise, and I feel like there’s a lesson for me here, about recognizing a gift of God as something we ought to properly steward, even when that looks hard and it looks like potential rejection.
Two agents thus far have come back with this exactly reply, truly almost word-for-word:
“I’m sorry to say I don’t feel I’m connecting wholeheartedly with your writing, despite its many charms.”
(One used that sentence with “I” and the other with “We”… seriously that was the only difference. Even though it’s polite, it’s still rejection.
And that ‘R” word is the thing you hear from so many writers — that the pile of rejection letters is rather long before anybody gets anywhere.
So when this little picture book’s second rejection hit my inbox yesterday, I took a deep breath and decided to smile and text a friend these words:
“She Curtsied for the Queen got its second rejection letter today! I’m two rejections closer to finding a literary agent who wants to publish it, right? 😁🤓”
And I’ve decided that’s exactly what I am choosing to believe.
Here’s why.
If God puts something in your heart that you know you’re supposed to do, the outcome really doesn’t matter. Truly, it just doesn’t. If this baby never gets off the ground… if this airplane never takes flight… I will still know two very important things:
1. God has asked me to do something, and He can make a way where no way seems possible.
2. My responsibility can be summed up with one word: Faithfulness.
Whether we are excluded from the table at lunch or turned down for the dream job or those 1,200 words I’ve read 1,200 times get turned down for the 45th time, Jesus is the Rock that makes every outcome secondary.
You are known, seen and loved. You are Beloved and you matter.
I am known, seen and loved. I am Beloved and I matter.
Jesus knows us, sees us, and loves us. We will be rejected by the world from time to time (and a great lack of rejection could be an indication that we are going with the flow a bit more than we should!)
Winston Churchill said, “Success if not final, failure is not fatal. It is the courage to continue that counts.”
So if you’re experiencing rejection because your art doesn’t connect with the critics, or if you’re experiencing rejection because your faith doesn’t line up with everyone else’s comfortable illusions of Jesus… take heart, friend.
Have courage to continue walking the faithful walk that consistently says “Yes” to Jesus, regardless of how the rest of the world will look at you.
You may find out the best friends you’ll ever have in this world were sitting at a different table all along.
Can I whisper a funny secret in your ear really quick?
This is it:
Sometimes when you’ve messed up, and don’t want to be honest and tell the truth, the best thing you can do for yourself (and the people around you) is be honest and tell the truth.
True story. This was my second year serving as the Director of the local Classical Conversations community. We wrapped up our school year with a fun and happy bang, and shortly afterwards, I had the pleasure of attending a day of training in preparation for serving as Director again next year.
At a mini “break-out session” I sat down with a few other directors and heard some words in the back of my head from a respected mentor a dozen years ago: “You can be honest, or more honest, or most honest.”
I went with most honest and shared that I felt like in a certain area of my role as a Director this past year I’d totally failed. Like not even a little. Big time. I felt like I could point to specific consequences of that failure. And — maybe I was being hard on myself — it was hard to be honest and just say “I messed up.”
I was a little bit afraid of judgement. At least discouragement. Maybe a sideways glance or two.
Instead, I was wrapped up in an embrace of acceptance and encouragement and given words that gave me such cheer, and have been rattling around in my brain ever since:
“I think you should celebrate your failure.”
This sweet new friend went on to encourage me to look at how much I’ve learned from it. How I’ve grown closer to God. And it struck me: this is truly the heart of the Gospel. We will mess up and fall short and err again and again. The grace of God is available. The forgiveness of God is paid for. The hope of God will help us get up and try to do better next time.
I realized that there is an incredible power in being willing to be honest about failure.
When you admit your failures you:
Encourage others to believe they can make mistakes and still “be okay.”
Demonstrate the power of hope and forgiveness.
Model the “I will get back up again” attitude that is so hard for those of us who only always ever want to get it all right the first time.
Give people the permission and encouragement to be brave and to try, even if they’re not going to get it all right.
I’ve wrestled often over the course of this month with those Good Words we’ve been talking about around here: Be of Good Cheer. I’ve realized I find it especially hard to be of good cheer when I look in the mirror and feel displeased with my fragile humanity. My failures and shortcomings. The times when I say I will and don’t or say I won’t and do.
But this is the goodness of God at its finest hour!
We fall so short…and are SO loved anyway! We mess up so big… but we are never too messed up for God to unravel our troubles and give us hope and purpose. We lack and stray and sin, but God is able to use these shortcomings for our good — where sin abounds, grace abounds more — and then He turns our hearts, helps us hear His voice, and empowers us to get up and try again.
If you are struggling with your own failures, friend, you can truly Be of Good Cheer. Our faithful God loves making beauty out of mess. And when you are willing to own, and even share, your failures, you give others permission to breathe a little easier. You show the world that God that doesn’t demand perfection — that instead He welcomes our imperfect and longing hearts. That we can try and fail and keep going.
There is so much learning, so much growth and so much beauty when we are willing to look our failures right between the eyes and own them.
Jesus said, “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation;” [And sometimes it will be the result of your own doing, but that doesn’t make those next words any less true.] “But be of good cheer. I have overcome the world.”
He has already overcome… and He will help us do the same.
So be of good cheer.
xCC
P.S. Side Note! If you’re a parent looking for a way to connect with your kids, I truly cannot recommend the book The Read-Aloud Family highly enough. Why to read with your kids, what to read, how… there is such a wealth of great information inside this fantastic book by Sarah Mackenzie. If you’re interested in a full book review, let me know — I just wanted to share it because I read it cover to cover SO quickly and was just so grateful for the wisdom and advice inside!
***
Just a heads up so we’re on the same page! My blog posts and emails sometimes contain Amazon affiliate links. When you click on those links to make a purchase, I receive a teensy compensation at no cost to you. I’m grateful when you do that! Thanks for supporting With Love, From Here.
They say there’s this scarlet thread running through Scripture, from start to finish: if you look closely, you see Christ everywhere. There are whispers of His coming in the garden in Genesis, holy foreshadowing in the Tabernacle and the Temple, unexpected prognostications, signs and omens around every corner, like thousands of tiny strands that come together into a scarlet cord, wrapped right around the Truth of Christ as He comes, lives, dies and lives again.
What I didn’t realize is that there are so many more threads, more threads in the tapestry, perhaps, and one of them, to me, is pink and yellow, and polka-dotted with sunshine. These are the threads that foreshadow the beautiful joy, the hope, the life abundant, purchased and available to those who find that scarlet thread, and the God-Man whose blood made it red.
It’s beautiful to think about. Easy to weave words together while pondering that gloriously beautiful picture being woven by our infinitely Wise Creator.
But then Monday happens. Or fill in the blank. This time it was a Friday.
You think lofty thoughts about good cheer and faith and contentment, and then you have to get out of bed. And stuff happens. And you think: remind me again how to be of good cheer?
For the past two weeks, I’ve been chewing on the words of Jesus. Words He spoke throughout His last message to His disciples. Specifically, “These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” {John 16:33}
Last week, the revelation was that good cheer is a choice. We have to resolve. To make choices when the “JoyStealer” comes to steal. And suddenly it became apparent that there’s this war going on and we’re going to have to choose to fight.
And the fight? Gosh it showed up like two hours after that JoyStealer email found its way to your inbox, friends! For real.
That bright and sunny Friday homeschool morning, it seemed like peace was impossible. Truly. It was just impossible. Four kids going in four different directions and none of them interested in showing a shred of compassion to another. Anarchy, I tell you! And all the cajoling and prodding and pleasing and trying just didn’t seem to be changing one. darn. thing.
So I did what any self-respecting Mama who is about to explode would do: I walked right out the back door.
Before you get worried, know that Hero Hubs was down the hall and no children were endangered as a result of this decision.
I walked outside in tears. Just frustrated, more than anything else, about my limited self. My limited grace. My limited patience. My limited humanity. Like life would be more convenient if I were a pre-programmed happy fairy robot. I stood in the shade of a dogwood tree and just cried it out for a moment or twelve. I ended up on my knees, staring at the grass with eyes blurred, watching tiny flowers twitch and jitter in the brisk April wind.
I faintly remembered those words from Isaiah: All flesh is grass… the grass withers, the flower fades…
And I just turned to Jesus. On the outside I didn’t go anywhere, but on the inside, there was a shift in focus.
I did my best to just be honest. Lord, what a mess I am. I’m sorry I keep falling short. I’m sorry I keep failing. I’m sorry I allow choices I have no control over to make my choices for me sometimes.
And I felt like there was this whisper there, or maybe this slow realization: I am not in control of anything but my own heart. I cannot change my children’s actions (although I certainly intend to continue to do my best to lead them and guide them). I cannot change the weather. I cannot even change the color of those pesky gray hairs showing up here and there. Without professional assistance. In all the universe, God only chose for us to have complete and unlimited dominion over one thing: our own hearts.
Suddenly I thought: Gosh, I really only have one thing to be in control of. Which kind of makes the task seem easier.
When the kids are wild or the sickness knocks on the door or the laundry is a mountain or the bedbugs bite — whatever the circumstance, it is an opportunity for me to exercise authority over my own soul, to choose what I am going to believe and how I am going to respond.
I walked back into the house reminded that I am the fading flower and the withering grass–but I can choose to cling to the God who is forever, and who can see me through anything.
When Monday hit and I had to decide if I was going to fight, and just being sick was getting me down, and the to-do list seemed heavy. I decided to fight back one simple way this week, and it has had significant results. This is the one thing I have to offer so far. Read to take notes on this?
Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus.
I’m only scratching the surface of it, but here is what I know. There is this deeper place that you often hear of people finding when they’re trapped in concentration camps or confined in some tragic circumstance or another: there’s this place they can travel to without leaving their cell, where in their heart, they are shifting their posture. Perhaps they’re standing on Earth but in their hearts they’re kneeling. And while their physical eyes might be looking at a captor, the eyes of their souls are looking at Jesus.
More than once this week, I wanted to look at my circumstances and say “Really. Really?” Sometimes in a frustrated “Did that really just happen?” kind of way, and other times in a “Alright, life, what else do you wanna throw at me?”
But the moment I chose to turn the eyes of my soul toward Jesus, I felt the hope that reminded me that I can Be of Good Cheer, deep down in my soul, even when things aren’t looking how I wish they would on the surface.
I hunted down those words again, about the withering grass and fading flowers? And here are just a few of the things God met me with in Isaiah 40:
“The voice of one crying in the wilderness:
‘Prepare the way of the Lord;
Make straight in the desert
A highway for our God.
Every valley shall be exalted
And every mountain and hill brought low; The crooked places shall be made straight
And the rough places smooth;
The glory of the Lord shall be revealed,
And all flesh shall see it together…
The grass withers, the flower fades,
Because the breath of the Lord blows up on it;
Surely the people are grass.
The grass withers, the flower fades,
But the word of our God stands forever…
He will feed His flock like a shepherd;
He will gather the lambs with His arm,
And carry them in His bosom, And gently lead those who are with young.
Have you not known?
Have you not heard?
The everlasting God, the Lord,
The Creator of the ends of the earth,
Neither faints nor is weary.
His understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the weak,
And to those who have no might He increases strength…
Those who wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength;
They shall mount up with wings like eagles,
They shall run and not be weary,
They shall walk and not faint.
In His glorious goodness, crooked places are made straight and rough places are made smooth. Maybe not exactly the way we want. And probably not nearly as quickly as our impatient souls would like. But Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus, friends: and He can give you the perspective of His glorious awe-inspiring eternal goodness. And once you see it from that perspective it seems so simple to say,
“Here’s my heart, Lord. This one thing I have control over? Take that, too. Lead this heart of mine and show me how to walk in your ways. Even though I don’t like what’s happening right now, oh, Lord, I look at you and know: it is well.”
Be of Good Cheer friends… keep turning your eyes to the One place where you can truly find it. xCC
Helen Keller once said, “Resolve to keep happy, and your joy and you shall form an invincible host against difficulties.” There is enough food for thought in those words–especially after considering the person who said them — to pack up and say Amen right now!
Amen.
But those words do still beg one question, don’t they?
“That sounds great and all but…um…How?”
And that’s the very question I’ve been trying to answer as I’ve maintained a greater awareness of my own attitude and outlook at life this past week. {If you have any feedback on your experience thus far, I sure do welcome it!}
My discovery has been that this week’s concerted effort at choosing to be of good cheer has almost felt like it backfired on me. Either I’ve been grumpy all along and am just now noticing it, or circumstances over the course of the week just brought so many of those tiny little frustrations to the forefront that I couldn’t help but furrow my brows.
The Monday morning after Easter Sunday, oh goodness. We are blessed to wake up in a comfortable home. We have food to eat. Clothes to wear. The kids have books and toys aplenty. And yet somehow within twenty minutes of those tiny feet hitting the floor, it seemed we were all at odds with one another. That wet blanket feeling lay like a misty fog of inescapable grump that had to be barreled through, holding one’s breath, to arrive at the breakfast table.
I observed how much my mood can change based on how long it has been since my last meal. And I was freshly reminded of how much hurry hurts as I attempted to scurry kids out the door on Tuesday. On more than one occasion I found myself in a state of great discomfort–as if a personal battle was taking place, as if I was at war with some unseen force which attempted to squelch my every attempt at moving from the layer of grump to the light of gentle speech, kind words and genuine smiling.
As the war continued this week, I pondered how long it had been going on. How long have I lived content with being defeated? How long have I been satisfied with occasional joy, intermittent spells of cheerfulness, and mostly a consistent sense of blahhhhhhhhhhhhh just keep going and do the next thing blahhhhh.
If you have not personally experienced this, I imagine by this point you might think me insane.
But isn’t this the very thing Paul warned the Ephesians?
“Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.” {Eph. 6:11-12}
We have this Jesus, who repeatedly told His disciples {Remember all those references last time? John 15:11, 16:24, 16:33, 17:13…} Jesus kept saying: take courage, be of good cheer, “be bolstered from within.” Have My joy fulfilled in you. Choose. Make a resolution. Resolve.
And the earliest followers of Jesus were marked by this otherworldly joy, weren’t they? Persecuted, their kindness abounded. Imprisoned, they lifted voices and hands in chains.
Here’s what I have discovered under close examination: as Christians we have every reason to be the absolute most joyful people on God’s good Earth. And. As Christians, we have an enemy who is a thief, who comes to steal and kill and destroy.
We’re getting robbed and often? We don’t even see it coming. We don’t know it’s happening. We don’t even realize it has happened.
Nearly two decades ago, I spent a summer in ministry in Mexico. We built houses and painted churches and put on puppet shows for children. One was so amusing one of the lines my dearest friend and I laughed over came to mind again just a few weeks ago. {Picture a grumpy version of Sesame Street’s Ernie, furrowed brows and a bellowing voice.}
“Yo soy el Robogozo, y ha venida para robar tu alegría!!”
Translation?
“I am the Joystealer, and I have come to steal your joy!”
The Joystealer wrought puppet havoc. But it turned out there was one puppet immune to the power of the Joystealer: the puppet con Cristo en su corazón, The puppet with Christ in her heart, who shared her life and light with those around her, and not only defended herself from the Joystealer… but went on to help others who’d had their joy stolen find new joy in Christ!
I know, it sounds like a ridiculous puppet story, right? But is there truth there? Have I taken nearly twenty years to realize the Robogozo is real and He knows where I live? More important: Could we be a people that resolve to take Christ’s words to heart, take the very heart of Christ to be our own–and allow that joy to form an invincible host against difficulties? Wouldn’t we be a force to be reckoned with! Who wouldn’t want to be a Christian?
The first step is the choice. The choice to resolve. The resolution to be of good cheer. To be bolstered from within. To see past the present to the gift, the hope, the promise eternal that is always ours regardless of circumstance. In Him we have everything we need for life and godliness.
El Robogozo truly does prowl about like a roaring lion, friends. So resolve. Choose. And I’m hoping next week, we’ll continue this conversation with some thoughts about fighting back.
“These things I have spoken to you, that in Me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation; but be of good cheer, I have overcome the world.” {John 16:33}
Be of good cheer!
xCC
P.S. Here’s a link in case you missed the first Be of Good Cheer post in this series! Please share with a friend that needs encouragement today, and know that I pray these words will bless your heart. I love hearing from you!
I create resources to help people find deeper, more meaningful relationships with God through pursuing, pondering, and prayer. The "Shop" link above will take you to the home of many of the lovely resources I’ve created to help you keep walking one day deeper with Jesus.
I create resources to help people find deeper, more meaningful relationships with God through pursuing, pondering, and prayer. The "Shop" link above will take you to the home of many of the lovely resources I’ve created to help you keep walking one day deeper with Jesus.