God isn't American

I've been contemplating wants versus needs lately. Which of my desires are truly needs and which are just things I want? It's an important question to consider because Philippians 4:19 tells us "God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus." If something is truly a need, God promises to provide it.

I am bothered by the idea that needs are subjective. What I consider a need may not be considered so by someone else. I feel it a need to send my kids to college, yet the women I met in Uganda last summer would find that a luxury. They only needed to keep their kids fed. Can I count on God to provide funding for college? Business owners in America are told they need to have a website and internet presence to make it, but can the same be true of businessmen in Haiti? We Americans tell ourselves we have to "look the part" and maintain a certain image to succeed in our world, necessitating things from manicures to expensive clothing to state of the art facilities. There is some truth to it. I follow the reasoning myself. I buy new outfits for speaking gigs to look my best so I will be taken seriously. I color my hair so as not to be dismissed as old and out of date.

I want to believe that my American ideas are truly needs (and therefore things I can count on God to provide for me), but one thing eats at me.

God isn't American. Does He account for culture in determining needs? Does He view needs the same for all people? Does He consider where I live in His assessment of my needs?

I ask the question because I want some comfort when I have anxiety over money. I want to trust God will meet my needs, but don't know what qualifies as a need. Because God isn't American, does He view needs the same way I would?

I have no answers, friends, but would love to get your thoughts. Let's start a dialogue, people. What do you think?



Photo Credit: Denise Krebs

When Easy is Not Best for My Kids

Some days it's tough being a mom.

I want to solve all my kids' problems, but I can't. Sometimes all I can do is help them endure. I want to be their advocate, their cheerleader, their drill sergeant, but knowing when to be which is an art form. I know God has plans for everyone and often His plans include pruning and humbling and taxing lessons which in the long run produce great things, but when it's my kid, it's hard to watch. When they're going through rough patches, I'd rather He make their lives easier.

And yet I know God doesn't work that way. As the Bible says, He disciplines those He loves. I should rejoice when their roads are rocky, knowing He is at work. I want God's will to be done in their lives, yet when it involves pain, I wither. I beg God to lighten their load, to bring relief. I want to see them happy and healthy, void of anything hard.

“I am learning that praying for God’s will is harder than it seems. When God’s will is asked for in hopes of it agreeing with a personal desire, it is not asking for God’s will at all. It takes complete surrender and self sacrifice.”

by Jayson VS ~ Loni’s son @ Writing Canvas

Sometimes praying for God's will to be done in my kids' lives brings difficulty for them. As hard as that is to witness, it is necessary. I need to trust He will see them through the same way He sees me through.

I need to surrender my kids to Him.

This seems like a lot to ask of a parent until I remember He did the same for me. He surrendered His Son to suffer a much more harrowing experience for the sake of me AND my kids. He doesn't ask any more of me than He's willing to give Himself.

So I boldly pray for God's will to be done in the lives of my kids, but I also ask for the grace to withstand it. I pray He makes us hearty and strong. I pray for a spirit of perseverance. I pray He uses tough times to build our faith. I give up my own desires for easy parenting to do what is best for them.

Lord, make us faithful.

To read more impressions of this quote, visit Loni at Writing Canvas.

How much are you willing to sacrifice to reach your goals?

I don't consider myself a driven person. In personality type terms, I'd call myself a melancholy phlegmatic, or in Tami-speak, a moody floater. Yet as much as I sort of fly by the seat of my pants, there's a big part of me that fears leaving this earth without having left my mark.

I want to accomplish something.

I suspect you do too. How would you fill in the blank on these questions?

Some day I'd like to____________ .
If I could do one thing before I die I would_____________.
I've always wanted to_____________.

Even as a child I was struck that most people don't achieve their dreams. Something in me SCREAMS about that. I don't want to be in that camp. Have I wasted my life if I don't get my blanks filled in and checked off?

But here's the kicker. Goals are HARD to reach. Life, duty, responsibility get in the way. We have to deliberately pursue them, making choices accordingly. As I've aged I see my time slipping. My "some days" are fewer. Do I really want to go for these aspirations or should I let them go, writing them off as childhood fantasy?

I've had to ask myself some tough questions. How important is this? How would I feel if I died without having achieved it? How much am I willing to sacrifice to get there? Is it worth it?

And as a Christian I have to set it up on God's scales. Does it bring Him glory? Is it part of His plan for me? If so, what is He asking me to give up to work towards it?

They are some heady questions, uncomfortable questions whose answers are elusive. But they can't be ignored if I am serious about reaching a dream.

How much are you willing to sacrifice to reach your goal?

For the Love of God

Frustration set in. Again.

What are we doing here, God? Why does it have to be so hard? What do you expect?

O Lord, hear my prayer, listen to my cry for mercy; in your faithfulness and righteousness come to my relief. Do not bring your servant into judgment, for no one living is righteous before you.

The enemy pursues me, he crushes me to the ground; he makes me dwell in darkness like those long dead. So my spirit grows faint within me; my heart within me is dismayed.

I remember the days of long ago; I meditate on all your works and consider what your hands have done. I spread out my hands to you; my soul thirsts for you like parched land.

Answer me quickly, O Lord; my spirit fails. Do not hide your face from me or I will be like those who go down to the pit. Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love, for I have put my trust in you. Show me the way I should go, for to you I lift up my soul. Rescue me from my enemies, O Lord, for I hide myself in you. Teach me to do your will, for you are my God; may your good Spirit lead me on level ground.

For your name's sake, O Lord, preserve my life; in your righteousness, bring me out of trouble. In your unfailing love, silence my enemies; destroy all my foes, for I am your servant.

Psalm 143

A servant MUST wait.

For your timing.

For your purpose to prevail.

For your perfect plan.

Truly, you are the God who sees, the God who knows, the God who cares.

Forgive the impatience and lead on.


For more Thankful Thursday posts, visit Iris at her new blog, Grace Alone.


Related link: Dreams

Truth, Hollywood style

I don't think of myself as a terribly emotional person. I'm not moved to tears easily (PMS week excluded, of course, oh and when I'm really tired or there's a good praise time going, or, well, never mind, maybe I do cry easy). ANYWAY, there are a few movies that get to me every time, I mean EVERY SINGLE TIME I watch them, no matter how often I've seen them.

There's the scene in Apollo 13 where the whole world is anxiously waiting to see if, against all odds, the heat shield held and the astronauts were able to survive re-entering the earth's atmosphere. The usual amount of time expires and everyone holds their breath (I still do--and I KNOW what's going to happen!). Then all of a sudden, there's a little static and the module appears, floating perfectly down to the ocean's surface. Cheers abound as I catch my breath and dab my eyes.

Mission accomplished.

Mr. Holland, of Mr. Holland's Opus, spends his entire life teaching music, which started off as a temporary gig. What he REALLY wanted to do was compose music, but the realities of life cause him to keep the steady job and paycheck instead. When he is forced to retire, he wonders if he's wasted his life and missed the chance to live his dream. He is unexpectedly called into the school auditorium and finds generations of students filling the room to honor him. Years of investing in students collide with his yearnings to create a master work as past and present students join together in a mass ensemble to perform the masterpiece he's spent a lifetime working on. His dream is realized and he understands his opus is not the music he leaves behind, but the lives he's touched. Now tell me, how is a person supposed to stifle tears through that?

The sacrifice mattered and produced more than imagined.

In A Beautiful Mind, John Nash, a brilliant mathematician, suffers from schizophrenia. Medications dull his mind, making him unable to concentrate and feel like himself. Though it goes against common sense, his wife respects him by trusting his judgment to go without drugs, helps him find a way to deal with the voices and loves him through the trauma. At the end of the movie John is awarded the Nobel Prize. In his acceptance speech he says, "It is only in the mysterious equations of love that any logical reasons can be found." Then he looks his wife in the eye and says, "I'm only here tonight because of you. You are the reason I am. You are all my reasons." What woman with a heart can hold back the dam at that?! Is that not the Mecca of wifedom?! Of course John's wife beams proudly, tears streaming down her cheeks and joins the room in a standing ovation. The tremendous trial has produced a beautiful love affair.

The struggle was worth it.

A Jamaican bobsled team has overcome everything thrown at them and finds themselves in the running for an Olympic medal in Cool Runnings. On their final run they are on record pace when their sled breaks, causing them to crash to a stop within sight of the finish line. Though their chances for a medal are dashed, the team picks up the sled and carries it the rest of the way, gaining more respect and admiration with every step. The crowd goes wild with cheers and applause. And I quickly find something else to do before my family makes fun of me for crying again.

There is honor in finishing the race.

Why do these scenes get to me? What is it that brings the tears? Why do they touch me? I think it's because they show the reward in overcoming. They represent my deep longings, things I yearn to see in my own life. I want to accomplish God's mission for me. I want to know my sacrifices and life matter. I want to know the struggle will be worth it. I want the crowd to go wild and celebrate with me as I finish the race. When I watch those scenes I think, "I want to be there, Lord. I want to see the reward of persevering." Maybe the tears are homesickness for heaven where my movie like ending will occur. Or are they from fear I won't finish good enough?

While my attention is captured in these movies and I watch ordinary people accomplish the extraordinary, while I long to be among them, hoping with my entire being to perform as well as they, Jesus whispers in my ear,

It will be worth it.

It will make a difference.

It will matter.

Keep pushing for the finish line.

One day you will hear, "Well done. Mission accomplished."


Make it so, Lord, make it so.

"Throughout the history of God's people as given to us in the Bible, we see that life is a test. We have before us the option to trust God "no matter what," or to walk away from Him. To walk away from God is to leave the fragments of our dreams in pieces on the floor, but to trust Him is to let God pick up the pieces and make us whole again. When we choose to let Him make us whole again, he will make our lives more beautiful than before."

~ "What I Learned from God While Quilting" by Ruth McHaney Danner & Cristine Bolley~

Even before I shut the door on him, I knew he was only being nice. There was never going to be any more to this relationship than a decent guy being gracious to a shy, self-conscious girl.

I went to my room, shut the door, fell to the floor and cried. And cried. And cried.

"What am I doing wrong, Lord? I always pick the good guys, the ones who love you. Why is it they are never truly interested in me? What are you saying? Why do you keep slamming this door in my face? Are you saying you want me to be single?"

More tears. More silence.

"I don't want to be single, Lord. You know what's in my heart. Please. Don't ask me to do this. You know what I long for. How can you ask me to stay single? And if you do, how can I go against your plan for me and be happy? There is no choice here really, is there? I give it up. I have to give it up. If you want me to stay single, I'll do it. Make me okay with it. Change the desires of my heart."

I laid on the cold floor a long time, until my body was all cried out, until I was so exhausted I nearly fell asleep. I crawled into my bed, fully clothed and whispered, "I give it up, Lord. Just make me happy with it."

About a month later, a guy I knew from high school started dropping by. We had dinner together a few times and hung out occasionally, but I didn't call him my boyfriend. I gave up hope for that. This was just a guy I could really talk to. Our dinners turned into late nights in deep conversation. Our hanging out became more frequent and soon people were asking.

"We're just friends," I would answer adamantly.

But it wasn't long before my friend started taking my hand as we walked on campus or sat at a movie. And saying good bye became awkward, so much so that we set some ground rules (which lasted about a month). Before I even realized what happened, I had fallen in love.

In making me concentrate on a friendship instead of a relationship, God gave me a deeper, more lasting connection. He gave me more than a boyfriend. He gave me a mate, one that has been by my side for over twenty-one years, one who loves me better than I ever imagined.

When I think back to that night on the floor, I often wonder if this relationship would have happened without the willingness to let my desires go. Did my heart need to be broken so He could stitch the pieces of my life together better than I could have done myself?

And if the answer is yes. . .

Is it possible we all miss out on beauty in our lives because we're holding on too tight to our own wants?



Visit Nina at Waiting*For*Grace for more In "Other" Words.