The Joy of Being Human | Enjoy It While It Lasts

Well, I’ve gone full summer mode and have been swimming, sitting in the shade, and eating delicious food with people I love at a dizzying rate. It’s really been at the expense of some work that I was hoping to have done by now. But when the warm air is blowing over your bare arms and the sunlight is filtering gently through the leaves overhead, it’s terribly hard to go back inside and do computery things. On top of that, I’m feeling quite nostalgic this year. My kids are at that fun age where they can do more things, and you don’t have to watch them every second lest they perish. And the air is so clear and warm. 

 I’m sure I’m not alone in this, but I’ve developed a bit of anxiety about summer- particularly about the fact that it may need to be renamed entirely as “fire season.” 

 Perhaps you’ve heard of the seasons of Oregon:

Winter
Fool’s Spring
Second Winter
Spring of Deception
Third Winter
Mud Season
Actual Spring
Summer
False Fall
Second Summer (1 week)
Actual Fall

 Let me tell you, with all the seasons on that list that make it hard to get outside, it would be a real shame to take out Summer and replace it with Fire Season.  

 Sometimes in the midst of the enjoyment, I feel a tinge of anxiety about the inevitable time when smoke will cloud the sky again. This simple sweetness of summer could disappear in a moment. So how do I fully appreciate the beauty of this gift of God? How do I keep the bitterness of fear out of this moment of happiness? 

 I think it has to do with abiding- living life fully aware that God is with us and we are with God. When we feel that we can trust God to abide with us through the hard times that will surely come, it brings freedom to savor the good times as well. Paul said, “I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do everything through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:12-13). 

I don’t have to deny the likelihood that there will be wildfires before fall. But they are not burning now. Here and now, the sky is clear. The water is refreshing. The popsicles are cold and drippy. Just as it would be fitting to feel grief and lament in the face of loss, it is also fitting to feel joy in the face of abundance. So yes, I will feel disappointed when the smoke comes. But God will be there. 

 Today, I feel happy, and God is here.

 (Sidenote: While I am exploring my feelings around this lighthearted if sincere subject, know that I am aware that others may be going through things much more burdensome and perilous. I fully believe that God is faithful to abide with us through all things, large or small, but I want to acknowledge the difficulty of trusting God through such times, and do not intend to diminish this.)

Romans 12:15
“Rejoice with those who rejoice; weep with those who weep.”

Matthew 6:31-34
“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles strive after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things will be added unto you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Today has enough trouble of its own.”

James 1:17
“Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.”

Psalm 145:17-19
“The Lord is righteous in all his ways
And loving toward all he has made.
The Lord is near to all who call on him,
To all who call on him in truth.
He fulfills the desires of those who fear him;
He hears their cry and saves them.”

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About the Author

Kayla is is 37. She has been married to her husband, Joel, for 17 years and she homeschools their two energetic boys. She loves stories, being out in nature, meeting interesting people, and seeing others grow in their freedom in Christ.

In His Image | A New Ideal

Any other idealists out there? It’s at once both an amazing gift of seeing inspiring possibilities and an uncomfortable burden of realizing just how far that image is from reality. My idealism used to express itself in a sort of perfectionism. I recently went back and read a few journal entries from my young 20-something self, and I saw that perfectionistic worldview coming through full force in my past words. Revulsion and compassion together rose up as I read entry after entry of striving and pleading with the Lord to make the world (or make me) just so. Those words I read evoked a painful emotional state of trying to deal with the impossible gap between the brokenness I saw, and the way things “should be.” And at that time, I thought the perceived gap was the actual gap. Experience hadn’t yet taught me just how limited my own perception could be. I thought that everything that looked broken was broken, and that my painful and uncomfortable feelings were evidence that I needed to take action to change it all. I had a knee-jerk reaction to immediately try to “fix” things that looked askew. 

All this came rushing to front of mind last week when I read these words: “But the Father will send the Friend in my name to help you. The Friend is the Holy Spirit. He will teach you all things. He will remind you of everything I have said to you” (John 14:26 NIrV). These are among Jesus’ words to his disciples in the hours before his arrest. I know I’ve read this passage before, and it amazes me every time, but this time I couldn’t get over those words. All things? He will teach us all things? Strangely confusing and reassuring to an idealist. 

Later in the same passage, Jesus says more about this: “I will send the Friend to you from the Father. He is the Spirit of truth, who comes out from the Father. When the Friend comes to help you, he will be a witness about me” (John 15:26 NIrV). I wish I could go back and soothe my young self with these words. When I hear them now, I picture a Father who cherishes his beloved children and wants to give them everything they need, up to and including himself, his own Spirit. I picture a tender, honest Spirit who is alive in us, and opens our eyes to the amazing work that God is doing around us which might otherwise be hidden from our understanding. The Friend is not only working in us. The Friend is witnessing, testifying to us, within our very spirit, of the things Christ is doing in the world, and in our brothers and sisters. There’s grace for our imperfections, space to look at ourselves and others honestly in love. The perfectionistic compulsion for me to change things so that they can be acceptable is eased.

Which brings me to something I’ve been learning and relearning (and relearning) since that early time of striving. It’s God’s work, not mine. God will do it. The love we express in our relationships and service can be a powerful testimony of our God, but the redemption is God’s alone. God is at work and holds nothing back; the Father, Son, and Spirit move together in this mysterious dance of redemption and sanctification. The Friend, the Holy Spirit, is real and active, and I can trust the Friend to do sanctifying work in me and in those around me. Sometimes God does things in an order I don’t understand and it can be frustrating or painful. I realize now that I don’t know what the final picture, the “ideal,” really looks like for each person. This is something else that should remain in God’s hands, not mine. So, while I know I will be on this pendulous journey of trying too hard and trying not to try too hard probably until the day I die, I trust the Friend to help me grow. The Friend helps me trust the Father because my spirit glimpses what is hidden from my eyes - blooms of healing and growth and restoration all around me because of the inextinguishable life that God creates and recreates every moment. This promise is not an excuse to stop trying, to step away from the work God is doing through me. Rather it is relief and peace from striving - God takes responsibility for the redemptive work and its outcome. It is a burden too heavy and prideful and spirit-breaking for a human like me.

After Jesus promises the Holy Spirit is coming, he adds these words which seem a fitting conclusion, “I leave my peace with you. I give my peace to you. I do not give it to you as the world does. Do not let your hearts be troubled. And do not be afraid” (John 14:27 NIrV).

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About the Author

Kayla is is 37. She has been married to her husband, Joel, for 17 years and she homeschools their two energetic boys. She loves stories, being out in nature, meeting interesting people, and seeing others grow in their freedom in Christ.

Trusting Our Mysterious God | Lord, It’s Complicated

It’s said that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. The problem is, we must start with a little before we get to a lot. And as limited humans, how do we really know when we’ve reached a lot? We can see where we’ve been, and see how we’ve grown, but the entirety of knowable information is… unknowable. What a scary thing. We not only don’t know how much we know of what can be known, we don’t even know if what we do know is enough to avoid making huge mistakes. 

*Drumroll please* I give you, black and white thinking! To avoid the discomfort of admitting how little we know, and how uncertain we are even of that, many humans resort to making absolute statements about things and critiquing everything that disagrees with their current worldview, even where our knowledge and experience are limited. To avoid additional discomfort, we stop short of critiquing our own thinking, limiting our criticisms to others’ thoughts and behaviors. Being wrong, bad, being right, good. Simple. Then we share the gift of our rightness with others by letting them know where they can stop being wrong, and start being right, like us. So nice. If we’re very lucky, somewhere along the line, either experience or a person eventually disillusions us of enough of our own wrong ideas that we start to see the uncomfortable truth that we don’t know very much. If only it were a one and done kind of thing. We seem doomed to repeat this cycle in all kinds of learning. And the real rough part is that people still have to live with us while we go through the process over and over.

Jesus is pretty patient with us, thankfully. He knows our limitations. But when you’re a human, it can be hard to perfectly know when to call someone out on something (“If your brother or sister sins, go and point out their fault just between the two of you.” Matthew 18:15), and when God might not be ready to deal with that particular issue in that person’s life yet (“love covers a multitude of sins” 1 Pet. 4:8, and “first take the plank out of your own eye” Matt. 7:5). God has a plan, based on perfectly knowing us inside and out, for our sanctification in love. So how do we get onboard with something that takes perfect omniscient knowledge and understanding mixed with unlimited love? 

There’s no black and white answers, just the source. We can’t know the right path ahead of time for every situation. We can only know the One who does. We can ask God for help, and trust him to speak in our lives and the lives of the ones we care about. It’s complicated. Sometimes the answers aren’t going to be the ones we want to hear. And sometimes the answers are for someone else’s ears and heart, and we get the chance to trust that He’s working even when we’re not part of the equation. It’s hard, the “not knowing”. But one thing we can trust is that even though we aren’t capable of understanding everything right now, “He who did not spare his own Son, but graciously gave him up for us all- how will he not also, along with Him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32). He is giving us himself; he won’t leave us alone in all this.

Being uncertain of our own knowledge is a little less scary if we have Someone who we can be certain of. As we see and hear him answer again and again, our faith will grow. And if our faith fails us in the dark moments, we can lean on the faith of our brothers and sisters in the meantime. The living God is our firm foundation, and God is speaking directly to us.

Matthew 7:24-29  
24 “Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. 25 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. 26 But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. 27 The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.” 

28 When Jesus had finished saying these things, the crowds were amazed at his teaching, 29 because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law.

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About the Author

Kayla is is 37. She has been married to her husband, Joel, for 17 years and she homeschools their two energetic boys. She loves stories, being out in nature, meeting interesting people, and seeing others grow in their freedom in Christ.

Fruits of the Spirit | Gentleness

Gentle. Humble. What comes to mind when you think of these words? If you wish, take a quiet moment and just rest with those words. See what memories or pictures come to you.

This quality, “prautes” (prah-oo'-tace) in the Greek, is one of the fruits of a Spirit-filled life that Paul lists in Galatians 5. This life and these fruits are contrasted with a life driven by the appetites and temptations of the flesh. The word is translated “gentleness” or “humility” at various points in the New Testament. 

Gentle* (adjective):

1. Considerate or kindly in disposition; amiable and tender.

2. Not harsh or severe; mild and soft.

3. Easily managed or handled; docile.

Humble* (adjective): 

1. Marked by meekness or modesty in behavior, attitude or spirit; not arrogant or prideful.

2. Showing deferential or submissive respect.

3. Low in rank, quality, or station; unpretentious or lowly.

I wanted to include both words, because I think together they give a richer understanding of both the action and the motive, the visible fruit and the belief behind it. I think that when I am gentle, it’s based on seeing God, myself and others clearly. I am submitting my understanding of reality to God’s truth (acknowledging that what God says about me and others is the most important thing), which empowers me to act in a tender or mild way. James alludes to this when he says “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom.” (James 3:13, NIV) According to this, the wisdom that comes from growing in understanding of God’s truth and ways is the source of humility.

I’ll give an example from my own life. (I am sharing this story with permission from my child.) I host a homeschool hiking activity a couple of times per month, and at a recent meetup there were several moms running very late. They were so late, we decided we’d start without them and meet part way up the trail. Both of my boys love running free in nature, but one of them in particular really values communing with nature on his own terms. That day, he wanted to run up the giant hill and go all the way to the top. We discussed ahead of time that we would need to balance the needs of everyone in the group that day. However, he was soon far ahead of the adults, and I had to run to catch up. I have to admit, as the group host, it was a bit embarrassing to have to run up the giant hill, chasing after my children, trying to get them to listen to the plan. But I know my kids. It can take some time for them to change the picture in their minds about what is going to happen, and there’s no rushing it. When I caught up and explained that he’d gone too far, he stopped and said he would wait there until the rest of the group caught up. I explained that we wouldn’t be coming back that way again, but he wanted to wait there. I thankfully had a little more time to spare as we were still waiting on the final mom to meet us at the crossroads, but eventually they all arrived, and I had to urge them to go on ahead while I went back yet again to try to convince my child to come along with the group. I needed to lean into the Spirit for gentleness that day. I had to remember what I knew about my son, how he has his own pace when it comes to change. 

Even then, I could feel the pull of my flesh-the embarrassment of being seen as a parent who can’t “make their child behave,” especially as the leader of the group. The strain of matching wills over and over with a persistent child…

I had to push back hard as shame and fear tried to creep into my thoughts. 

“What do I know here?” I asked myself. I am human, my child is human, and we are both limited and imperfect beings, yet created good in God’s image. I know that my child struggles with transitions and changed plans. That’s OK. That’s part of how God made him, and he is in the process of growing into maturity in this area. I know that I cannot control my child, I can only control myself. And it is not a righteous desire to look more put-together than I am in front of these other moms, even if I am the ‘leader.’ God asks me to be a loving guide and protector to my child, discipling him in God’s ways. He doesn’t ask me to make my child do the “right thing” at every moment. (This is all the humility part- acknowledging the truths that God has already taught me, and letting this shape my perspective on the situation.)

This perspective then allows me to make gentle choices in the reality I face:

I can facilitate this group of moms, while also making space to come alongside my child and walk through this transition with him. (This is the working out of the humble perspective as gentleness.) Even though it is tiring to walk back and forth, and keep talking this out with my kiddo, I am parenting for the long-term. I want him to know that I value him enough to slow down and help when he needs it. I want him to know that we are in this together, and that he is capable of changing his mind. Even though I feel shame trying to creep in, if I know I’m making the right choice, I can despise this shame. Who knows? It might even be helpful for another parent to see this work in progress. 

Anchoring my perspective in the truth of God helps me make gentle choices. It helps prevent me from straying into fear and shame-based reactions that can often be harsh and unloving. In the story I shared with you, the Spirit empowered me to act gently. But of course, I’m not perfect, and some days I find myself flailing about in situations beyond my current wisdom. I’m so thankful God is gentle with me too. God draws us nearer, forgiving our sins and failures, healing our wounds, binding up our broken hearts, teaching us new ways according to where we are. God promises to give wisdom (remember, the source of humility) to all who ask. “If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.” (James 1:5, NIV)

Let me send you off on a sweet parting note- here are Jesus’ own tender words to us regarding His gentleness:

Matthew 11:28-30
“Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”

*American Heritage Dictionary of the English Language, 5th ed.

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About the Author

Kayla is is 37. She has been married to her husband, Joel, for 17 years and she homeschools their two energetic boys. She loves stories, being out in nature, meeting interesting people, and seeing others grow in their freedom in Christ.

Truth in Love | Hearing the Truth in Love

I don’t know if anyone saw me (since y’all supposed to be praying, too), but I seriously ugly cried a few Sundays ago in church. I don’t know what we were supposed to be praying about (maybe reconciliation?), but as you know, God does what he will. As I closed my eyes and asked God what He would like me to pray, I began to think about my early days at South Hills Church, when Shannon spoke in tongues and even occasionally cursed. I was still young and figuring out who I was, but I was suddenly in a church of people who were really honest and really courageous about seeking the Lord. Memories washed over me of so many people who were a part of that time, and everything seemed bittersweet in my heart as I thought about all that had been familiar and would never be again.

Then I thought about the years when my babies were born. We had just returned from Tanzania, and my spirit was broken. I returned pregnant, depressed, and feeling as if God had failed me. I now recognize I likely experienced postpartum depression, which had only made things worse. But we came home to South Hills, and two wonderful spiritual mothers in the church heard me, treated me gently and tenderly, and helped me start to heal. One of those wonderful women is at home with Jesus now.

So here I am back home, at a place where some are known, and some are new. And I myself am new again. It’s a very strange thing.

But it’s also wonderful, because, as I cry and mourn what I’ve lost, I also cry in awe of what I’ve gained. (Just FYI, I almost always cry when God’s talking to me, so don’t mind me.) I’m still getting to know most of you, but I can already tell that I’m still home. We are brothers and sisters. We won’t agree on everything, but my spirit resonates every time I am The Church with you. The truth is, I was struggling with this, though I hadn’t realized it. I was struggling to let go of how things were before, and release my expectations of what my church family was going to look like. Holy Spirit was speaking to me, but gently because he knows me so well. I think he knew I wasn’t ready to face all my emotions yet. But as I allowed his love to hold me, I was able to grieve what was lost from before. In releasing that, I’ve become more aware than ever of the truth that all of you, here and now, are exactly the people I’m supposed to be with.

This experience of God’s gentleness reminded me more than ever of the importance of listening. God knew I needed to be pushed into thinking about these things, but only when I was ready, when I was feeling safe in his love and safe in this new (old) place. He knew the time was right because he knows me, and cares about me, and sees my heart. He’s the perfect listener, who knows our needs before we say a word. I was able to receive his Truth joyfully because I felt safe in his Love.

I pray that we can embody this gentle and humble spirit. My God waits to speak truth until I’m ready. And when another person feels safe and loved by me, I can speak truth in love and hope to be heard as well.

Ephesians 4:1-2
As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.

Ephesians 4:11-16
So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ. From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

Psalm 145:4-9
One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts.
They speak of the glorious splendor of your majesty—and I will meditate on your wonderful works.
They tell of the power of your awesome works—and I will proclaim your great deeds.
They celebrate your abundant goodness and joyfully sing of your righteousness.
The Lord is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and rich in love.
The Lord is good to all; he has compassion on all he has made.

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About the Author

Kayla is is 37. She has been married to her husband, Joel, for 17 years and she homeschools their two energetic boys. She loves stories, being out in nature, meeting interesting people, and seeing others grow in their freedom in Christ.

"Trying to Love" by Kayla Erickson

Do you ever wish you could love people better? As a recovering perfectionist this is a hard one for me. Some days it’s easy to be polite and show an interest in peoples’ lives, and other days I need every scrap of will just to be civil. But I get the feeling that’s not the spectrum Jesus is talking about when he says to love one another. I’m sure he understands that we all have our off days; He was a man after all. But when the Bible says that Christians would be known for their love of one another, it seems to imply that deeply loving our spiritual siblings would be a natural (or rather supernatural) consequence of becoming a Christian.  

I've learned two things about myself regarding this recently. (Yes, recently - it turns out trying to be perfect all the time tends to slow the growth of self-knowledge. Who knew?) First, it’s hard to be nice when you’re in pain. Second, it’s hard not to judge people when you can’t forgive yourself. The piece of God that has come into sharp focus in light of these realizations is His compassion. I finally began to understand that it wasn't God’s intention for me to keep working hard to love people until I finally got good at it (though love certainly requires practice). It was his desire to heal my soul through his presence; to show me that he cared deeply about the trials and sufferings of my life; to tenderly rebuild me to wholeness. And my part was to stop “should”-ing myself. The true curse of a perfectionists’ life is “should.” I should love them better.  I shouldn't have said that. I should help out more. I should be a better _____. That is the spirit of condemnation, friend. And every failure is a little death. 

Should I do those things? Probably. But that’s the wrong question. The right question is why should I do those things? Because it’s a good thing to do? Nope. Bad reason. That rabbit trail leads to the clanging cymbals Dusty was referring to from 1 Cor. 13 on Sunday. That path leads to either self-glorification or self-condemnation… usually a liberal dose of both. So then why?  Because when Jesus makes us alive (and remakes us alive every time the world breaks us again), it punches holes in our thick walls of self preservation and we start to really see each other. More and more, there is enough in us to care beyond our own pain and inconveniences and start seeing how we might be able to show kindness to our sisters and brothers. We start to see that it is a grand privilege that God allows us to share the stumbles and burdens and joys of our journey together. We learn to lean into God’s compassion for others’ needs as well as our own, and forgive ourselves and others the way God forgives us.

But there is a cost. We have to give up our own righteousness. Is Jesus’ righteousness really more important to me than my own?  Easy to say, hard to live.

[1Co 13:1-4 ESV] If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give away all I have, and if I deliver up my body to be burned, but have not love, I gain nothing.

[Rom 8:1-6 ESV] There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit. For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the Spirit set their minds on the things of the Spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the Spirit is life and peace.