Phase 3

My husband, Scott, and I call our current stage of life Phase 3.  It’s part of a totally unscientific formula:

-          Phase 1- childhood to young adulthood

-          Phase 2 – adulthood, which includes raising our family

-          Phase 3 - the time in between launching your kids and retirement. 

You could say it’s our version of the term empty nester, but instead of having ‘less’ in our lives, we have experienced so much ‘more’!

Phase 3 has been filled with more of God, than any other time in my life.  Wait – stop – rephrase that; Phase 3 has been filled with me trusting God more in my life.  By his Spirit, an arduously forged obedience was birthed from a fragile and immature trust.   That’s a mouthful, I know, but just when I thought I was heading into a more sedate pace in my life, I discovered that God had other plans…, a “trust and obey” plan! 

A few years ago I heard that Mother Theresa had once told a gentleman, “Don’t pray for clarity, pray for trust.”  Of course, don’t you know that when I heard this I was impatiently waiting for clarity!  During this wait, God wreaked havoc with my self-sufficiency and undressed the illusions of my control.  Active trust was born when I dared to take a step into the unknown, into the unseen, into a promise that my spirit felt, but my common sense trounced upon.  There’s nothing wrong with clarity, per se, except when you’re paralyzed by its absence.  I learned that waiting on clarity could cost you more than what it would take to trust.  An aspect of trust is the firm belief in the reliability or strength of someone or something.  Who we trust makes all the difference! Trusting God can be scary, but it’s always the clear choice.  Allow me to share the story of how God rescued me from my common sense. 

Phase 3 began with our younger son heading into college, but it was also shaken up by some other factors.  Scott was prematurely launched into retirement; he said it was like standing at the edge of a pool and getting yourself psyched to jump in, but then someone comes along and pushes you in!  For me, this phase was punctuated by the absence of my speaking ministry.  I chose to gear up my hours at work which left less and less opportunities to do any ministry, much less the MOPS circuit.  The first year I just really missed it, but by the second year that ‘missing’ feeling turned into a conviction.  God was making it clear that where I was, was not where he wanted me to be. My heart knew it, but my wallet was calling the shots.

During the years approaching Phase 3 we had talked as a family about one day moving someplace that didn’t have winter most of the year!  My oldest son initiated it when he was in college, saying he had plans to move someday.  I said, “Great, let’s all pray about where that will be because I’m outta here too!”  This relocation journey took more than 5 years.  There were scouting trips to many cities in Arizona, Asheville (NC), Colorado Springs (CO), Austin (TX) and then Nashville (TN).  In every place I prayed, “Lord, show up if you want us here!”, and low and behold, The Lord showed up in Nashville. 

Right after our first trip to Nashville, Scott was deployed by FEMA to New York for Hurricane Sandy.  He spent the next 5 months there and, with the exception of me visiting him the weekend ‘the world was going to end’ (12/22/12), we communicated over the phone.  I cringe when I say it, but we made major life decisions then that changed the trajectory of our lives.  The truth is that the distance and lack of distractions created more focused time together.  Meanwhile, God worked parallel to our emotional work to bring financial circumstances to a point that would allow us to make the move. 

The winter of 2013 was NOT a high note in my life.  I happen to be burdened with the winter blues and at that time I was really strapped by stress that brought about an assortment of physical ailments such as stomach, digestive and chronic memory issues (caused by my inability to retain essential vitamins.)  I can recall one night sitting on my couch, wrapped in my plush, lavender robe, with the TV on and my fingers busily crocheting something.  My younger son, a man of few words, came up to me and with a strange look on his face (I later figured out was concern) and asked if I was alright because all I was doing was coming home and crocheting on the couch.  Okay people, for your teenage son to notice that you’re not right means that you’re really not right!  

Here’s the scary thing, life looked normal; I was working and going to church, but I barely had energy to get through each day.  I was unhappy and worst yet, I was not obedient.  I knew I wasn’t living the life I was supposed to and it was taking its toll. The financial security I clung to was eating me alive.  God was calling me to walk off that ledge and to trust him for my provisions, but I consumed his time by negotiating for a limb, a branch, or a vine to grab onto before taking that step.  No branch ever appeared and because I couldn’t see past my own solution, I wasn’t able to see the blessings God had for me. Waiting for the comfort of clarity was costing me more than my health, it was stunting my spiritual growth by creating a one-sided relationship with God.

There are tons of “2013 Winter Karyn’s”!  Our kind struggle with the discord of emotional and spiritual harmony.  I didn’t want to walk off that ledge of financial security – my fear tethered me to my wallet as I withered away spiritually.  My soul whimpered but my worry won out.  I knew God was calling me to something else but because I couldn’t see how it could happen, I remained stuck. 

For the Humphries, Phase 3 has really been a journey of faith.  I believe it’s easier to have faith than to walk in faith.  Our entire family was called to step off our own personal ledges and free fall in faith.  We didn’t do this carelessly or haphazardly, we prayed and created a stable, barebones financial plan that would undergird us.  In the fall of 2013 we left my oldest son and daughter-in-love behind in Chicago, which was extremely tough, but we had an assurance that The Lord would work in his timing to bring them down.  My younger son came with, but not without perching on the edge of his own ledge saying, “I don’t think I’m supposed to go!”  In the end the 3 of us headed south, cautiously confident because of the proof God had given us in the circumstances that preceded our relocation. 

Our environment has not only changed, but our hearts have been renewed (as well as my strength).  We have experienced so much of God’s favor; Scott got his real estate license, my younger son formed a plan for his future and returned to Chicago to enroll in Columbia College, I went on to pursue a certification as a Christian Life Coach and my older son and his family just relocated here!  I have gained a renewed sense of God’s purpose for me in Nashville.  I no longer feel his conviction, I feel his blessing as I engage with others who want to get ‘un-stuck’ and watch God work powerfully in their lives too.

We are created to glorify God and it’s the way in which we do so that brings rich meaning to our lives.  If he calls you to something, he will work out the details. All you have to do is walk in faith off the ledge of fear, self-sufficiency, or whatever holds you back from being who God means for you to be. I am really trying not to speak of trust as something you just casually do - it’s much harder than that – at least it was for me.  I remember during this time I would make myself say out loud, “God, I trust you.”  This was my sacrifice of praise as I grappled with my inability to see things and to control my world.  Little did I know that seeing God was the only thing I needed to see.  That’s what makes the whole trust thing possible! 

Whatever phase you are in, if you are living a life without emotional and spiritual harmony I want to encourage you to make a change.  Begin by getting with God more.  Listen.  Dial down your life enough to hear him.  You don’t have to take this journey alone.  If you are certain God is calling you to make a change, don’t let the comfort of clarity hold you back.  Hand your fears over to God and trust.  I’ve seen this firsthand, and not only with myself.  Our God is faithful to complete the good work he has started in all of us.  Open yourself to what he has in store for you, even if you can’t see how it could happen.  He knows, and he will be faithful. If you have stepped off that ledge in faith, please share how God has blessed you, because he always does!

O Lord of Heaven's Armies what joy for those who trust in you.

Psalm 84:12

As a Christian Life Coach I walk with others on similar paths.  If you’d like some company on your journey with Jesus and want to move from where you are to where he wants you to be, then let’s chat.      

Holy

As a young woman I was constructed by the world’s expectations.  I had siding and a roof on top, but inside was a different story.  At first I thought the inside was empty, but what I realized was that the inside was filled with distortions of the truth; wishes of who I would like to be and shame for who I wasn’t.  In that warped mix was frustration from trying to be who I wasn’t and disappointment when I was successful at it.

My journey to my real self happened over many years and through a lot of tears, frustration and glimpses of joy.  These steps were taken hand in hand with Jesus, who enduringly anticipated his own moment of joy knowing that the simple touch of his hand would hold seismic effects on my heart. 

When I submitted myself to Jesus he renovated the inside with his truth. Truth that had to make its way through a lot of deception and self-gratification.  But his truth had the power to do that.  His truth brought more un-learning in my life than any acquisition of knowledge.  I un-learned my way back to him.  Already knowing somewhere deep down inside that his truth was my real truth too.  I could release my hold on the things I clung to that I thought would bring me fulfillment.  Instead, I grabbed on to him with my heart and released my grip of everything else in this world.  Only by holding everything loosely could I hold on to myself. My true self. Not my earthly self, but my eternal being which was made holy, full and complete by the God who created me.  The most loving God that pours truth into us when we submit and choose to believe.  When our attention is well developed beyond mortal distractions and honed in on the holy;  The holy that’s in our spiritual DNA, the holy that we are called to be, the holy that holds the promise of hope like no one, or anything else in this world.  The holy that says you are mine. The holy that commands: I AM holy, so you be holy too.

I am holy when I look outside myself and see and serve the other holies.  Together we create a blanket of holy across this earth.  That’s the Body of Christ in its truest form.  That’s the vehicle the Holy Spirit works through to bring holy to a fallen world.  I won’t think of the struggle to be holy right now, I’m just going to revel in God’s vision of His Spirit in us all, spanning the globe and covering it in his love.  In my mind it is a beautiful picture of a patchwork quilt that has the image of the cross stretched across it.  Stitched in a sacrificial love and covered in grace.  An irresistible holy that envelopes, heals and transforms. A spectacular holy I’m privileged to be a part of and compelled to share!

As a Christian Life Coach I walk with others on similar paths.  If you’d like some company on your journey with Jesus and want to move from where you are to where he wants you to be, then let’s chat.  He may have prepared me in advance just to coach and champion you at this very time.    

Listen

I’m currently enrolled in a Christian Life Coach certification program and it was my turn to give a devotional.  The chapter that we were covering had to do with LISTENING.  I found this funny because my word for 2015 also happens to be LISTEN.  No coincidences with God, right?  So as I sat with God and with the word LISTEN, a few things happened. 

I’m not sure if you’re aware, but last week an ice storm swept through Nashville, TN.  A very loud hush accompanied this storm.  The normal hum of vehicles was absent, even the birds were strangely silenced.  Instead, as it rained ice, all I could hear was the tapping of the crystals as they hit the eaves of the house.  It sounded like a thousand tap dancers a mile away.  Yet, in this sacred silence there was an annoying clatter that no one else could hear.  My scattered thoughts were having their own version of a snow day.  They were a mindless clamor that interfered with my efforts to listen to the beautiful silence.  Like the ice that encrusted the tree limbs outside, these thoughts glazed over every part of me and kept me from hearing what was important.

I realized in a new way that God beckons me to listen to him.  In John 10:27, Jesus says, ^“My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me.”  Moreover, God delights in listening to me too. Deuteronomy 4:7 says, “Yes. What other great nation has gods that are intimate with them the way God, our God, is with us, always ready to listen to us?” 

I believe being heard is one of the greatest gifts in life, and to be heard by God fulfills one of our deepest human needs; but as I skimmed scripture I was struck by Jesus’ desire to be heard as well.  Jesus says so many times, “If anyone has ears to hear, let them hear.” God echoes this often in the book of Revelation as well.  I am cautioned by how so many people did not hear what Jesus was saying because they were not listening.  Their hearts were not attuned, their judgments did not allow and their desires distracted them from the beautiful truth that he offered. 

God beckons me to listen to him. He waits expectantly.  He wants to be heard and he wants to be heard by me, and by you.  Jeremiah 29:12-14 says, “Then you will call upon me and come and pray to me and I will listen to you.  You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.  I will be found by you, declares the Lord.”  God wants to be found and he wants to be heard. He called to Adam and Eve as they hid in the garden, he whispered to Elijah after a grand display of wind, earthquake and fire, he flashed a light around Paul and spoke to him on the road to Damascus, and he continues to call, whisper and speak to us. 

God used a quiet ice storm to speak to me.  When I was able to lower the volume of my thoughts, I heard him tell me how much he enjoys being heard.  He wants me to know that whether it’s through the clamor of my thoughts, the din of my day, or the still silence of a storm, he speaks!  He has a story to tell, and it’s a beautiful one that includes me… and you.  I invite you to find God in either the silence or noise of your life.  Let’s all call upon the Holy Spirit to clear our minds, free us from distractions and attune our hearts to hear his very special invitation, “If anyone has ears to hear, let them hear.”  And, let our response be as 1 Samuel 3:9 says, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening.”

Thank you heavenly Father that your Word is truth and it reveals who you are to us.  I’m so grateful you are an intimate God who wants to be found and heard.  May the sound of your many promises subdue the clamor of our thoughts and our lives and may we ever enjoy the consolation of your sweet voice. Amen.

Sandra, the Jewbu

It happened in a Trader Joe’s parking lot.  A not-so-by-chance meeting with Sandra, a brokenhearted woman on a spiritual journey.  I was making a run to pick up some items for my son and daughter-in-love after they just had a baby.  I pulled into a parking space along the right side of a nondescript sedan.  The driver of that vehicle was making her way around the back of her car to the passenger door.  As she moved beside my newly positioned car she commented about the dark, scattered clouds that loomed in quiet indecision.

“It’s going to pour,” she directed through my window before she opened her door.  

“It’s going to do something,” I returned affably before rolling up my window and turning off the car.  I couldn’t exit, though, because she was fumbling through something on her seat.  I waited… and I waited, and I waited.  She appeared totally unaware, but I figured since we had just spoken, she would soon realize the situation.  So I waited.  After a few more minutes, she did.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed as she caught sight of me over her shoulder.  She quickly shut the door and took a couple steps back.

“That’s okay,” I replied as I exited my vehicle and headed in the direction of the store.  “I've been there,” I threw over my shoulder, relating to being totally consumed in thought. 

“Not where I've been,” she called behind me.  Her tone was odd.  It was filled with defeat and a sadness that deliberately fought against itself.  Like a gentle hand on my forearm, it stayed my course. 

I turned around and responded inquisitively, “Where would that be?”

“With your boyfriend telling you you’re worthless.” She listed off a few other derogatory remarks from him, in a poor attempt to appear un-maimed.

A bit jolted, I looked at her short frame, wrapped in a shapeless navy sweater jacket which she filled out.  Her shortly clipped auburn hair was faintly speckled with gray, and its natural thickness held the feathered style into place. She wore glasses with rectangular lenses that were rimless so you saw more of her small face.  “How sad that your boyfriend must feel so bad about himself, that he’s trying to make you feel bad about yourself,” I replied with a ‘Karyn’ response instead of the standard, ‘oh I’m so sorry.’  I don’t know why I say these things, and to strangers; admittedly, it is weird!  In hindsight I had no idea how that response would be the springboard for a half-hour conversation with lasting effects. 

She went on to say a few disparaging remarks about him with her broken heart peeking out from behind a forceful dismissal of the man.  I commiserated and said, “I’ve learned that at one time or another everyone will let you down.  The only one that has never let me down has been Jesus.”  It was the truth.  It was my truth and what I felt the Holy Spirit was prompting me to say.  I prayed in my head, ‘Lord, what do you want me to say?  What does this woman need to hear?’

“Well I’m a Jewbu,” her fast-paced speech didn’t miss a beat. The look on my face must have indicated that I would need an explanation.  “I’m Jewish, but I started exploring the Buddhist faith,” she accommodated my confusion.  “That’s a Jewbu, but Jon Stewart had a guest on his show the other night that called himself a Buju.  So I guess it can go either way.  My boyfriend says I’m nuts and should forget all about it.”  With a quick inhalation and rising excitement she explained how she would go downtown and chant with other Buddhists.  She named the statue that they chanted by, but I can’t recall it.  My imagination drafted a picture of a gong, but I’m sure that’s not right.  While I don’t remember the name of the object, I do clearly remember the weighty impression of needing to respect her journey and to trust God for the rest.

Her enthusiasm continued, “Chanting transports me spiritually.  We chant nam-myoho-renge-kyo and it’s amazing that everyone starts off on their own key and once we all get going we are soon in harmony.” 

I sliced the following into the conversation, “That’s not unlike what I experience in worship.  I especially love when we sing an a cappella song and others begin to harmonize. It is a beautiful thing.”  

Sandra confessed that she had tried unsuccessfully to pray to Jesus in the past.  Like a baby bird waiting to be fed, she opened and closed her mouth twice to demonstrate that nothing would come out when she tried.  My heart literally hurt.  To think that something could actually hold back the name of Jesus Christ from passing across our lips was next to devastating to me.  She explained that she grew up in the Jewish faith which was harsh to her.  The upcoming weekend was Yom Kippur and she teared up as she remembered her parents, who had passed on. “They are all gone now,” she said with a grief that clutched more to her culture than her beliefs.  I know that feeling and I felt her loss. Somewhere in the midst of this part of our conversation we had introduced ourselves.

“Sandra, you only know half of the story,” I explained, referring to the Old Testament. “Jesus came and atoned for us all.  He is the way, the truth and the life.  You are chosen.”

“Yes, I know the Jews are chosen,” she cast that privilege aside, a bit too carelessly I thought.  “But I've had people proselytizing over me before and I just couldn’t stand it.  I’m more of a metaphysical person.  I’m thinking of moving to Oregon so I can chant outside.  I hear there are great places to chant there.”

“I understand that, having come from a New Age past,” I related.  “But I still experience God in nature too.”  The conversation took turns that I felt ill equipped for, so I just kept praying, Lord, give me your words, as Sandra wrapped me into her spiritual story.  Again I was assailed with the sense that I needed to be respectful of where she was on her journey.  So, I don’t know how it happened, and I definitely don’t recommend it, but we were soon holding hands and chanting!  Now you have to understand, I’m the person who won’t even say ‘Namaste’ when I’m done with yoga and here I was in the parking lot of Trader Joe’s chanting with Sandra, the Jewbu. 

I think it started with me saying, “Can I pray with you Sandra?”

“Don’t be proselytizing over me!” She emphatically answered.

“I’m not going to proselytize over you.  I just want to say a prayer,” I returned calmly.  I didn’t even know what ‘proselytizing’ meant, I just hoped that praying wasn’t it!

“If you pray, then I want to chant,” she bartered.

After a cautious moment, I agreed.  I took her hands to begin to pray, but she started her chant instead. I listened and prayed silently for protection.

“Nam-myoho-renge-kyo,” she repeated over and over with her full bodied voice, yet the sound fell flat like an empty echo.  Maybe I was preoccupied in prayer, and maybe she felt awkward chanting in a parking lot, but all in all it had a rote quality to it and I suspected she felt unmoved as well.  After less than a minute she stopped, pulled her hands away and then explained what the chant meant.  “It’s a chant for happiness and for asking for things that you want.”  I’m sure she gave me a better definition than that, but those are the two points that I pulled from her statement.  I've later learned that it actually means: I devote myself to the Lotus Sutra of the Wonderful Law, which I know for sure she never mentioned.

She swiftly began to introduce another topic, but I thought, not so fast!  “Okay Sandra, I want something,” I insisted and recaptured her hands. What I wanted was for her to know the hope and fulfillment in Jesus Christ.  What I wanted was her heart to find its journey’s end in his arms. 

As I readied myself, her eyes gave me a raking assessment – an up and down look which gave me the impression she was grading the make of my clothes, rather than my intent.  I must have met with her approval because we ended up saying the chant together.

Just because the chant had no meaning to me, doesn’t mean it didn’t evoke what it meant.  I knew the inherent danger and prayed again for protection, not wanting to make myself spiritually vulnerable.    

“It’s my turn now,” I asserted. “I want to pray.” She didn’t have much of a choice, but she didn’t balk either.  In Jesus’ name I said a short prayer that she would come to know Him personally, experience Him deeply and know His love. 

I suppose you could argue that she tolerated me as much as I tolerated her, but we each chose to honor each other.  Once we dropped hands she shifted the conversation again, and with this unspoken cue we began to walk toward the store.  In that space of time I had mentioned that I was visiting from Nashville, to be here for the birth of my first grandchild.  She asked if I knew of Gruhn Guitars.  A friend’s brother had moved there in the 70’s to repair guitars and now was so successful he was in an American Express commercial. This friend, by the way, was horribly bullied as a child and Sandra, pointing to her red hair, was evidently bullied as a young girl herself. 

Her narrative continued down different trails as I grabbed a shopping basket and entered the store.  She said she no longer belonged to any category.  She was 60 years old and wasn’t a grandma because she didn’t choose to have children (a big life regret). She wasn’t married or a girlfriend anymore so she didn’t have a group to which she belonged.  She remarked that her friends would give her a hard time if she didn’t wear designer clothes (I realized then that this was the reason she so pointedly assessed what I was wearing).  She retold a time she was in a conversation with a couple of women and when they discovered she wasn’t a grandmother, they abruptly ended the conversation and walked away.  She blamed their political affiliation as the reason.  I interjected saying that that wasn’t because they were either liberal or conservative, that that behavior was just rude.  She continued with her fears that an Evangelist would be elected President, and on and on.

We were by the open refrigerators with dairy and cheese products when she shared a story about her father, tearing up again with his memory.  “My father was in hospice care and just before he died he called out for a Father Cooney.”

Admittedly, feeling a little fatigued from our conversation I was confused.  “Wait, your father was Catholic?”  I thought she had said he was Jewish in a very big way.

“Of course not, he was Jewish!” she exclaimed.

“That’s what I thought.  Then why would your father be calling out for a priest?”  I wondered if there was a piece of this story to which I might not have lent a proper ear.

“I’m sure he found his way into a church some time in his life, like I have,” she replied somewhat flummoxed, trying to make sense of it herself.

            “Sandra!” Suddenly it clicked and I was supernaturally alert.  “It was Jesus!  He was face to face with Jesus, that’s why he called out to the priest.”  Goosebumps did a happy dance on my arms, and I’m certain it wasn’t from the cool air creeping out from the refrigerators.

            “That’s what my brother said, ‘It’s that Jesus thing,’” she parroted with a masculine tone of voice, then continued saying “and he’s an atheist.  I don’t talk to my brother these days, but that’s a whole ‘nuther story.”

            “It’s that Jesus thing.” I went straight back to the Jesus part.  “Sandra, that’s incredible!  You just gave me goosebumps.  Do you see that it’s Jesus?  You have the most amazing story about Him with your Dad.  That’s incredible!”

            She downplayed it, and I couldn’t believe it.  She didn’t discredit it, but I could see that she saw it as just another thing that happened, not God chasing after her.  She couldn’t even see that I was standing there as a result of God pursuing her too.  I’d never experienced something like this before, where a non-believer had the better testimony!  How does that happen?  It took me a moment to recover from such a big let-down, but Sandra didn’t notice, she went off on another conversational tangent.  This time it was about the current global threats; ISIS, Ebola, etc.  Her voice escalated with fear to the point that, I believe she actually said that the world was coming to an end. 

I sighed and nodded my head in agreement that things in this world weren't hunky dory and then said that I needed to get my son’s coconut milk ice cream.  “It was nice meeting you Sandra.  I wish you the best on your journey.” 

We said good-bye weeks ago, but Sandra’s story has lingered with me.  I know Jesus loves Sandra, our little chatter-box, but she’s blind to his passionate pursuit.  Instead, she’s been embraced by Buddhists who appeal to her metaphysical nature and, she told me, don’t care what type of clothes she wears. 

How is it we can look at the same thing and see it differently?  How is it that she can’t see that Jesus has no categories, no political affiliation, just hope?  The fact that Sandra can’t see Jesus pursuing her breaks my heart, furthermore, what she does see and associates with Jesus hurts me even more.  

My encounter with Sandra has given me much to ponder, but for now, I just want to end this witness by saying that evangelizing is not a spiritual gift of mine and I don’t feel like I do it well; however, if I’m talking about myself truthfully, Jesus is going to be part of that conversation.  Moreover, when I share my story about Jesus’ love and deliverance, no one can ever dispute it.

Sandra is an example of how we all have hurts and struggles.  I follow a God who calls me to share how he has impacted and healed my own hurts and struggles, so others may know he can do the same for them.  Like the healed man in Mark 5:19-20 Jesus tells us all, “Go home to your family and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.” So the man went away and began to tell in the Decapolis how much Jesus had done for him.  And all the people were amazed.  I just want to encourage you to do the same… just share YOUR story.  That’s all Jesus asks us to do.  

Don't Pray for Patience

I hear it all the time, “Pray for patience.”  Some people even recommend purposefully practicing the act of waiting to help develop patience.  I don’t know about you, but there is a major disconnect for me with this philosophy.  Instead, the only thing I find that I wait for is patience itself!

If you are like me, you may need a more radical way of looking at patience.  When I first pondered this troublesome word (troublesome to me because I could not master it), I was led to the Fruit of the Spirit in which patience is one of nine virtues that reflect a follower of Christ.  They are all excellent virtues which I really want to have.  I dwelled on the fact that they were described as fruit.   To me fruit is a by-product of a tree or vine.  Think about it… how does fruit grow?  It doesn’t just pop out on a branch, does it?  We don’t get instant apples, or groves of grapes.  Fruit grows and is nourished from the vine it is connected to.  In John chapter 15 Jesus calls himself the vine and he talks about how to get this fruit:  “No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine.  Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me.”

Fruit cannot make itself because the vine is what produces the fruit.  This got me thinking about patience being a by-product of something, or rather something that develops from an attribute of Jesus (the Vine) rather than our own efforts (waiting).  In fact, I believe each Fruit of the Spirit has a divine attribute of God that gives it life, is responsible for the formation of the bud and the continuation of its growth through constant nourishment (remain in me). 

Jesus has shown me that what we really are searching for are the attributes of God, instead of figuring out ways to produce our own fruit.  When we adopt the attributes of God as virtues they make producing fruit easier!  Granted, God’s attributes are vast beyond measure, but when we know what they are we can pray for and practice them in order to produce better fruit. 

Let’s get back to patience.  Waiting ≠ Patience, the divine attribute of HUMILITY =

PATIENCE. Since God is humble we can obtain patience: From a lowly manger birth to a borrowed tomb, the human life of Jesus exemplified humility.  True humility is an accurate understanding of who we are in relation to God.  It is realizing you are not omnipotent and that you have limits.  Humility doesn’t think less of ourselves; it thinks more of others.

While God loves us for who we are, we don’t necessarily love others the same way.  Especially when we are behind someone who is unskilled at using an ATM machine.  Don’t we want everyone to move as fast as or even faster than us?  Don’t we want them to have prices on all their groceries when they check out so that we don’t have to wait for a price check?  From waiting in line to relationships that get out of line, our patience gets tested at every turn.  If we’re honest we expect others to be as capable as or even more capable than we are.  The ugly truth is that impatience rears its ugly head when we elevate our own needs above someone else’s. 

Patience is an expression of humility which is the antidote to impatience.  Humility puts aside our ego and says that I am especially loved by God… along with everyone else!  When you are mature in humility, patience no longer becomes a waiting game, but rather the reflected virtue of our humble Savior.  Praying for and practicing HUMILITY will give you more patience.  It transforms “Mirror Vision” to “Window Vision”.  Remaining in Jesus helps develop humility so that you can see beyond yourself.  When you realize that we are all flawed, fallen and forgiven it reminds you how deeply loved we all are.    The love that fuels humility helps us think of others first, it attempts to understand others and it makes no demands of others.  This love is strong enough to remove the impatience in our wait and extends grace in its place.  I encourage you not to wait for patience anymore. Instead, live patiently because humility has found a comfortable home in your spirit.

I'd love for you to share your thoughts by posting a comment below, and I encourage you to share if you know anyone else who fruitlessly prays for patience too!

I invite you to follow me on twitter @karynhumphries and visit my website karynhumphries.com

Linda FAITH

I am overcome with conviction for my continued lack of faith.  A dear friend’s father had a major heart attack last week and has possibly suffered brain damage.  He is not spiritually saved; in Christian terms that means he doesn’t have a relationship with Jesus.  Knowing my friend’s passion for The Lord, I know this weighs heavily on her heart, maybe even more than his physical condition.  It was not looking good all week, but yesterday she shared that he made some meaningful movements, which were incredibly encouraging. 

I don’t know what will happen… I’ve been in similar situations before.

I recall the cancer battle of the son of another friend of mine.  There were scattered moments of hope, fostered by incredible health gains along the way, but ultimately he lost that battle.  I give credit to prayer and the powerful faith of The Northside Community Church, and others, for those hope-filled, miraculous moments. I no longer put anything past the strength of FAITH that The Northside has.  It is quite a phenomenon to me.  I know they are currently being vigilant in HOPE for our dear friend and her father.  

Perhaps that’s the real miracle of FAITH: the VIGILANCE in doubt, the PERSEVERANCE of belief through the reality of dire circumstances and the ultimate TRUST that no matter what happens, you’re NOT WRONG for making a stand in FAITH. This FAITH knows that our God CAN, and our God WILL.  It is not dependent on a feeling, or even vulnerable to what we sense in a situation.  The outcome is dependent, in some proportion, to the diligence of BELIEF on our part.

 My long-standing prayer has been Mark 9:24, “I do believe, help me overcome my unbelief!”  I think of how Jesus didn’t do many miracles in his hometown of Nazareth because of their lack of faith. (Matthew 13:58)  I tell myself that I have to let go of my previous experiences where healing did not take place, and take on the banner of, “I WILL BELIEVE no matter how remote the chances are.” I need to take responsibility for the lack of faith I brought to those previous experiences.  I need to dare to be wrong, to be confident even when shrouded in doubt and to elevate my earthly view to a new perspective. 

I need to INSIST in the BELIEF of the outcome, not just PERSIST in prayer.  So in addition to my prayers, I will say in my heart and mind: 

-          I BELIEVE that her father will make a full recovery and have time with Jesus on both sides of eternity.

-          I BELIEVE that my friend will be able to remain in Nashville and not have to leave because of unemployment.

-          I BELIEVE that a young life can still be filled with God’s glory, even if poor choices have changed its trajectory.

-          I BELIEVE I will do what I am meant to do for The Lord.

I BELIEVE my God is capable. I BELIEVE I have a part in the miracle.  What I must do is put my own skin in the game.  I need to be defiantly hopeful even when the circumstances are steeped in a convincing reality that lures me to believe, “It won’t happen.”  “They aren’t capable.” “It’s just too much.”

Additionally, I have to realize that some of the sad outcomes may just be someone else’s miracle.  Who am I to presume to know these things?  We will all die… for believers, who isn’t to say that that is the biggest miracle and blessing of all?  I pray for The Lord to give me His eyes to see the power of faith and my responsibility in it.

In the book Kingdom Woman, Tony Evans gives the account of faith by a woman named LINDA.  He was scheduled to speak at a crusade in an open stadium where stormy weather threatened the event.  They gathered to pray and most prayed, “If it’s your will God, hold back the rain.” Linda chimed in and prayed, “Lord, Your name is at stake.  We told these people that if they would come out tonight they would hear a word from God.  We told them they would hear from you.  Now, if they come and You let it rain, and You don’t control the weather, then You will look bad. We told them that You wanted to say something to them, and if You don’t keep back what You can control – the weather – someone could say that Your name is no good. Therefore right now I ask in the Name of the Lord Jesus Christ for the rain to stop for the sake of Your Name!”  Despite reports that heavy thunderstorms were coming right at them, Linda sat on the stage, not with an umbrella, as others were, but with a confident look of expectation instead.  Tony goes on to report, “The rain rushed toward the stadium like a wall of water. Yet when it hit the stadium it split.  Half of the rain went on one side of the stadium. The other half went on the other side.  Then it literally met on the other side of the stadium.”  All the while, Linda had sat there with a confident look on her face. 

Linda’s confident belief backed up her bold prayer.  That’s what I want!  I want me some LINDA FAITH! (Can you hear the child tantrum within me?) I want to sit confidently before the storm and refuse to take an umbrella because even though I see the storm menacingly approaching, I can KNOW The Lord won’t let it rain because of my UNWAVERING belief, because of my PERSISTENT belief, because of my WILLFUL belief! And even if it doesn’t happen and I am WRONG, I’d rather be wrong TRUSTING Jesus, than be right in doubt.  I’d rather please God than be surprised by Him.  Because according to OUR FAITH it will be done (Matthew 9:29) and without OUR FAITH it is impossible to please God! (Hebrews 11:6)

To my many friends who have the Spiritual Gift of faith, thank you for your example; thank you for being Linda’s in my life.  To The Northside Community Church thank you for helping me see God in a bigger way; Your FAITH ASTOUNDS ME!

http://store.tonyevans.org/p-430-kingdom-woman.aspx

Dancing Barb

This post is about a very dear friend who succumbed to cancer last December.  I penned these words in my journal as a letter to her, and then later shared them with her husband.  With his consent I now share them with you.  Barb’s life was an incredible witness of living Jesus out loud.  She inspires me to choose joy and to share God’s love no matter how I feel.

Dear Barb,

I so admire your love for God and your radiant reflection of Him to the world.  I remember many of the amazing things you did and your impact on others, but there was this one time that really punctuated your selfless, carefree, loving-life attitude.

We were with Northside Community Church at Navy Pier for a ladies night out.  There was an area with a DJ and most of the ladies were having a blast on the dance floor.  I secured one of the few open spots to sit and saved you a seat.  You danced a little but your meds caused your legs and feet to burn and hurt, so you didn’t last long.  You weren't visibly uncomfortable but I could see your smile ended a bit prematurely as you interacted with the other ladies.  So, while you didn’t want to take the seat I patted beside me, you were grateful for the bit of horizontal space in a very crowded area. 

As we sat and watched the ladies having a loud, fun time, a gentleman who appeared to be homeless began dancing off to our right, away from the main body of dancers.  You of course noticed him.  You have a special radar for those outside the graces of civil society.  So, what do you do? Even wracked with pain, you rise and join him dancing.  You complete the picture – bringing what would be considered odd and sad; a dirty, shabbily dressed man dancing off to the side by himself, into the beautiful picture of a man dancing with a lady.  He was delighted and his face lit up with fun.  You were absolutely glowing!  Despite the pain and the fact that your legs weren't working well, you were lighting up the dance floor. 

I marveled at your determination to be joyful over succumbing to the clutches of pain that latched on to your legs and feet, trying their best to keep you in your seat.  But they never stood a chance!  And when our eyes met as you did a slow turn that involved many careful baby steps, you assured me that you were having a ball and that this man was the biggest blessing of your day! 

Oh Barb, you are one of the rare ones who receive even more blessings by giving blessings.  I think that sums up who you grew to be in Christ.  You were purposeful with your life – which was to live on purpose for Christ.  Because of the hope we have in Him we are assured a seamless transition when we die, but frankly there was no transition for you in spirit on December 4^th, because you were living eternal life as soon as you loved your Savior.  The truth Barb, is that you have not skipped a beat.  While everyone has wonderful stories of you dancing, your real story is about looking for and finding opportunities to share the love of Christ, as best as you could, with those around you. 

Most of our times together weren't dancing, they were girlfriend times experiencing life together as women and mothers.  We contemplated God’s mysteries, questioned His thinking, praised His graciousness, trusted His timing, and loved His mercy.  Your choice to love life despite your fate is proof to me that choosing Jesus is the only way to make that possible.  You lived out Philippians 4:8,

Whatever is TRUE

Whatever is NOBLE

Whatever is RIGHT

Whatever is PURE

Whatever is LOVELY

Whatever is ADMIRABLE –

If anything is EXCELLENT

Or praiseworthy,

THINK about such things.

Barb that is what you did in life.  That is what everyone saw and was in awe of.  I celebrate you and your choice to live out Jesus. And for all the blessings you received by blessing others, may you have an endless supply of crowns to cast at the feet of our spectacular Savior, now that you are gloriously face to face with Him. 

In my mind I see your glowing smile as you danced with that man at Navy Pier and I know just what you look like now dancing with the God, who became man, so we all might know His full blessing.  Thank you Barb for living and loving graciously.  I have been profoundly blessed by you…. Here’s another crown dear, aim well for me!

Love Karyn~ 

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