Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see. (Hebrews 11:1)

Earlier this year, I wrote about my garden’s blessings, which included thirty-seven tomato plants, grown from seed. I delighted in each phase of their growth – lovingly staking them up as they became taller – taking pictures as they reached shoulder height. The plants were robust and full of life – until they weren’t. 

What previously appeared healthy lay dead in days – obliterated by unseen enemies from within and without. I went from planning a fruitful harvest with a crop to share with friends and neighbors to praying that God would allow a remnant of plants to remain. He didn’t. There were no survivors. Of my thirty-seven tomato plants, twenty cabbages, a wall of vertical watermelons, twelve summer squash, and two rows of wax beans, I gleaned two quarts of beans – one of which I gave away – and a handful of cherry tomatoes. 

Along with septoria leaf spot and early blight, bacterial wilt attacked my plants from within, causing their stalks to fill with slime and leaves to wilt as if they lacked water. Once external signs were evident, my plants generally died within three days. 

As sad as it was to see my hard work obliterated, I focused on the remembered joy of watching my plants grow, even as I accepted that my efforts to preserve them were in vain. With each dead plant I pulled from my garden, the words of Job 1:21 resounded in my head: “The Lord gives, and the Lord takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.” 

They are only plants, I thought, and I don’t have to rely on them for food. I am incredibly blessed, despite this disappointment. 

Yesterday, I planned to weed my garden in preparation for a winter crop of kale – one of the few vegetables that remained unaffected by any of the diseases that obliterated nearly everything else. I’d seen potatoes regrowing from forgotten plants, and I’d allow those to keep growing, but the watermelon vines that were lingering would have to go. 

As I began pulling weeds, a familiar leaf shape caught my eye, and I laughed to find three “volunteer tomatoes” growing where dead tomatoes had fallen. Although I had given up on my plants, God saw fit to breathe new life into my garden. Against all odds, the watermelon vines were also hiding two unexpected melons, of decent size. 

How like the Creator to bring unexpected blessings to my world. I could take no credit for the growth of these “volunteers,” but God can. While I often think my beautiful yard, organized life, and bank account are evidence of my sacrificial efforts, the truth is that everything good in my life is a blessing from God. “Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father.” (James 1:17) What an outstanding reminder that the things I surrender control of often yield the most unexpected blessings. 

While the devil seeks to attack me from within and without, God is in total control of my life. I need to remember this lesson daily. A dear friend gave me a sign for my birthday that reads, “Give it to God, and go to sleep.” What sound wisdom there is in that simple statement. 

“You saw me before I was born and scheduled each day of my life before I began to breathe. Each day was recorded in your book.” (Psalm 139:16) God’s plan for my life was predetermined before I was even a thought. I need to pray and ask Him to reveal the steps I should take as He guides me into the future. 

God alone knows what’s ahead. I will trust that He will reveal His blessings when He is ready and His protection when the time is right. Until then, I will rejoice in each new “volunteer” as it is presented to me. I surrender to His will over my life. May you do the same.  

Today is my birthday. While I strive to make such occasions momentous to others, I prefer to keep the day low-key, myself. I tend to do a lot of self-evaluation on this day – remembering where I’ve been in years past, reflecting on those who have come and gone in my life, and contemplating what I’d like to do with the years that remain in my story. 

I’ve been doing a lot of the latter, recently – considering whether anything I’ve done has really mattered in Christ’s kingdom. I start each day, asking God to use me and praying that He will show me His will for my life. Some days, when I’ve encountered someone who needed to hear God’s encouragement, I feel that I have done His bidding. Other days, the things I do don’t seem to amount to the proverbial hill of beans. 

For example, my average work-day doesn’t do much to alter the course of anyone’s existence. I endeavor to serve God, rather than man, by staying positive, encouraging, and upbeat with everyone I encounter. Does it matter? I hope that it does, but only God knows. 

Other days, I step outside my regular duties to shine a light where I know it is needed – and I reap immediate results. I had such an occasion a little over a week ago after talking with a co-worker. I commented about seeing her work late every evening and asked her if she was taking a vacation soon. She replied that she would – at the end of the year. When I detailed some of my experiences in the mountains on my own vacation, her eyes grew wide as she told me how badly she needed such a trip, herself. 

When I returned to my desk, I decided to send my team-mate some of my favorite vacation photos taken around Lily Lake, near Estes Park, CO, after an early autumn snowstorm. I had a strong feeling that she needed to see evidence of God’s presence in the world. 

“Let these pictures from my recent trip serve as a reminder of our Creator’s love for you,” I wrote. “This was my ‘Be still and know that I am God,’ trip. I pray that you can feel His peace through these photos as I did when I took them.”

I continued by thanking her for all that she does for everyone and stating that our company was “indeed fortunate to have [her] there.”

“Never forget your value – and take care of yourself. There is only one you, and you are irreplaceable,” I ended. 

This is such a needed message, I thought. Who else can I send it to? After redirecting it to four other team members, the responses started coming in. 

“You brought tears to my eyes,” one individual wrote. “Thank you for being a light in a dark world,” responded another. “You’ll never know how much this meant to me.” 

“If I captured even a small portion of God’s love for you in these photos and sentiments, that’s all I could ever hope for,” I replied, over and over again. “My job is much bigger than the work I do sitting in my chair.”

The truth is, we all feel defeated, at times, and need a little encouragement. Life has a way of stealing joy from our hearts and making us feel hopeless. We need to remind one another of how much God loves us and how important we are to Him. His hope should shine through each of us as we share His love with everyone we know, in everything we do.

“Therefore, my beloved brethren, be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord, knowing that your labor is not in vain.” (1 Corinthians 15:58)

I don’t know what will transpire in my life over the course of the next year. I don’t know where He will lead me or what He will have me do. As I wait for His guidance, I will continue to pray that He will lead me to say what He wants me to say to those who need to hear His words at the time He appoints me to speak. 

I may not always know where I am going or what difficulties lie ahead. One thing I do know is that God loves me – and that in the end, we, who are called for His purpose – will win.

Be still and know that I am God. (Psalm 46:10)

Every one of us needs to step away, on occasion, to let our everyday work go. We need this time to find solace, gain perspective, and remember that there is much beauty in the world, just waiting for us to rest in it. Such artistry is nothing short of a gift from God. 

Since 2014, my mother and I have been taking an annual trek together to explore Europe. We look forward to these excursions that bring sensational sights and meaningful memories. 

Unfortunately, just as I was starting our 2020 preparations, a new development changed the entire orchestration – COVID19. Not only did the world shut down during the first quarter, but European travel became an impossibility. While I considered alternate, domestic excursions, it became apparent that even a trip to see my family would prove challenging. 

Ultimately, I decided to join my mother and brother in Colorado for a trek to the Rocky Mountains. Not content to replicate an experience they had often repeated, I booked three cabins in unique locations over the course of our eight-day journey. I wanted to create remembrances that would be unique for this year’s adventure.

In 2019, for example, it was my goal to see a wooly, Highland cow in the rolling hills of northwestern Scotland. While many travelers may hope to see the Loch Ness Monster on such an expedition, my ambition was a bit more realistic – and far more satisfying. I’ll never forget the day we finally encountered one on the Isle of Skye.

Goal fulfilled, my heart soared. Thank you, Jesus, I exclaimed as I pulled the car over to take countess photos of the magnificent beast. 

This year, I became enthralled with the idea of seeing a native moose after viewing one in the pictorial overview of one of our rental cabins. While we weren’t able to travel abroad, encountering a moose in its own habitat would surely be a sight to make this year’s trip memorable.

On day one of what I’d labeled as the “Rocky and Bullwinkle Trip,” we walked from our rental cabin to Columbine Lake. Glorious, I thought, as I delighted in the crystal-clear water, mountain-studded horizon, and soaring osprey overhead. Respectful of the peace, my mother, brother, and I each took a seat by the lake and soaked in the silence. 

Shortly after sitting down, a splashing noise caught our attention, and we looked over to see a ripple in the water where a fish had just landed. A few moments later, another splash revealed that the trout were jumping out of the water at regular intervals. While they were undoubtedly feeding on insects, in my mind, the fish were jumping for joy at the majesty that surrounded them. 

Still basking in the lake’s tranquility, we decided to walk a little further around the community. A local resident passed us on the road and told us exactly what we’d hoped to hear: a moose was visiting a field, just ahead. 

Rushing on, I spotted the massive creature, casually chewing on willow branches in the evening twilight. Day one of our trip and God had already granted me both the peace and beauty of creation my heart so desperately needed.  

How often do we get caught up in our daily lives and neglect the love gifts that God bestows upon us? I strive to never do so – often stopping to photograph spectacular sunrises, flowers, and wildlife. Sundays, in particular, have become uniquely holy to me as I sit on my screen porch, looking out at my yard, appreciating the birds and squirrels that visit me while I’m writing.

In addition to the beauty, I am grateful for the serenity this time affords. “Be still and know that I am God,” said the Lord. It is in the stillness that we find Him – in the quietude that we hear His voice. 

“Come with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest.” (Mark 6:31) I gravitate to this respite. All humanity should do the same.

There is such a clamor in the world today – racial unrest, economic uncertainty, pandemic panic, and political division. It’s impossible to pick up a paper, watch the news, walk in a store, or even into a workplace without sensing the lack of security all around us. 

None of this exists in God’s world. Surrounded by His creation, in the great outdoors, it’s impossible not to feel the presence of God. Where man brings tumult, God brings placidity. 

While there are many other stories I will share about our time in the mountains, this first day served as a reminder of the higher plateau that I strive to dwell upon. We serve a higher purpose than the one the world demands. Christ is the Great I Am and He longs for us to take the time to stop and worship Him.

God is the Master Painter, Creator, and Orchestrator of the universe. Nature’s symphony sings of His glory. May we make it a priority to pause our busy lives to reflect on His majesty and join our voices in the chorus sung by creation in adoration of our awesome God. Stop and do so today.

I have told you all this so that you may have peace in me. Here on earth, you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart, because I have overcome the world. (John 19:25)

Merriam-Webster defines the term “hangry” as “irritable or angry because of hunger.”

I’d like to suggest the adoption of a new word that I’ve become intimately familiar with: “hexaustion.” “Hexhaustion” can be defined as a “fragile emotional state brought on by hunger and exhaustion.” For example, “Her hexhaustion resulted in several meltdowns after repeated humiliation in the workplace.” 

This past Wednesday was the worst workday I’ve had since August 2016. Back then, I was completing my degree while supporting my former organization’s president through travel in France. I was barely sleeping between work and school responsibilities that had me waking my employer by 7:00 am, planning and escorting her through her day, and staying up until the wee hours of the morning, devising the next day, and completing my course work. 

When a co-worker failed to show up to a 10:00 pm meeting, scheduled to organize additional activities, I couldn’t hold the floodgates back any longer. I hadn’t eaten dinner, was pushing into my fifteenth hour of work, and still had schoolwork yet to come. France or no France, I wanted to walk away and never look back. I made a decision the next day that work would not consume me, ever again. 

Unfortunately, that proclamation didn’t last long as it doesn’t align well with my work ethic. 

This past week, the full weight of my hexhaustion hit me the day after I’d worked for fifteen hours without dinner, yet again. I had stayed late to finalize a fifty-two slide PowerPoint presentation for our annual department award ceremony.

This year’s ceremony was to be conducted virtually due to social distancing protocols. The senior vice president I support wanted the deck to be extra creative. In addition to the award slides, I had unique photos of co-workers – working at home during COVID – their pets, an interactive video of a vendor-presented award, and embedded applause-tracks that would automatically play after award recipient names were revealed. 

While I was already hungry after not eating dinner the night before, I also missed lunch the day of the event, which began at 12:30 pm. Additional changes were needed on the deck after the final run-through, which kept me busy until after the noon hour. There was no opportunity for a final review before moving forward with the show

Still, I knew the slides were great. Everything went well in our dry-run, and I just had to get through it to put it all behind me.

“You can do this,” a co-worker told me. We knew the president of our corporation would be joining us for the first half-hour of the ceremony, and I wanted everything to be perfect. 

Five minutes into the production, things started to unravel.

“Uh, Sara,” remarked our VP, who I also support. “Something’s missing.” I couldn’t imagine what he was referring to.

“The applause tracks aren’t playing,” said the SVP, on camera. 

I could hear the tracks, so I rushed out of my office and over to hers to point to my ears, silently saying the words, “I can hear them.” 

“No one else can,” she mouthed back, from behind her closed door.

Five minutes and several tech-support helpers later, we knew there was nothing we could do to fix the problem. Apparently, I had missed an obscure setting before broadcasting my presentation to over five-hundred people, all my bosses, and the president of the company. The sound effects would not play.  

“Just stick with it,” my boss texted me.

After advising her of my concern that the audio component in our embedded video presentation might also not be heard, she texted me again. “Skip it.” Not a good thing, as weeks had gone into the acquisition of the same. 

Finally, on the most significant award of the day, I bumped the button to reveal the winner’s name before my boss was ready for it. I panicked, tried to recover, and bumped something else on the keyboard that knocked me out of the live presentation and produced thirteen blank slides in the deck. Forgetting that I was on video myself, I put my head in my hands, saying, “Oh, no! Oh, no!”

Fumbling with my mouse, I clicked all around the screen, believing I had lost the whole production. Scrolling backward, I found the slide I had bumped – re-starting the show and pushing forward into the reveal, just as my boss said the winner’s name. The whole thing may have only taken twenty-seconds to recover from, but it felt like an eternity in my mind. 

When the ceremony was over, one of our senior managers came by and said, “Good job, Sara,” – a sentiment that seemed a million miles from reality.  

“Not really,” I replied. 

Her comment was all it took to push me over the edge. When one of our expert videographers came by to sympathize with me, I broke down crying, saying, “I failed.” 

After other co-workers saw me crying in my office, a friend came by to say, “I thought you were going to cry when the slides went blank.” 

“You saw me?” I asked. 

“Oh, yeah,” she replied. 

Great. More humiliation, I thought. I just wanted to crawl under my desk and hide or run from the building and never look back. 

Am I not already humble enough, Lord? I questioned. You know I work hard to be humble, every day. Did I really need another lesson in humility? 

That night, sitting on my screen porch, trying to eat something without it upsetting my fragile stomach, it started to rain. How I longed to stand outside in the storm and let the water wash away the day. 

Instead, I searched for Michael W. Smith’s “Healing Rain” on YouTube and let the words fill my soul. 

God is in control, I thought. There is a purpose in this, somewhere.

I went to bed early and woke at 3:15 am, wide awake. The day began to replay in my mind, one humiliating segment at a time. I can’t do this, I thought. I need to get past it.

Instead of lying there, torturing myself with the day’s mistakes, I turned on my bedside light and reached for my Bible. My day’s reading continued in Job, where I came across the following passage. 

“I know that my Redeemer lives and that in the end, He will stand on the earth.” (Job 19:25)

Thank you, Lord. That’s all I needed, I thought, as I placed the Bible back on the nightstand and turned off the light.

In the darkness, I repeated the verse in my head and basked in its peace. I fell back to sleep and remained sleeping until my alarm went off. 

Instead of hiding my face as I returned to work that next day, I held my head high and shared my story with our dear cleaning lady and a co-worker who emailed me to ask if I was okay. 

I learned a big lesson through my humiliation in front of my peers, bosses, and the corporation’s president. God wins in the end, and nothing else matters. I work for God, and He loves me despite my flaws and failures. I will still give my usual 300% – but not so I can look good or win acclaim. I give extra because I’m serving God and can provide no less. 

As Dr. David Jeremiah said, “There are few things that you can ever develop in your life as a believer without stress and difficulty and persecution.”

To that, I say, “Amen.”

God is always teaching me, and with teachable moments comes stress. He knows what is best as He continues to mold me into the person He wants me to be. In the end, I work for God and His opinion of me is all that I need to worry about. 

I serve the ultimate Overcomer who sees and understands. Happy are the hexhausted, for God will give them rest.

Sometimes, our most significant victories are won when we fully surrender – not to our enemies, but to God. 

Two weeks ago, I was ready to walk out the door of my workplace and never look back. After three days of eleven, thirteen, and twelve-hour days, respectively, I was burned out. With more work than I could handle and no end in sight, the crushing anxiety that came from such a workload was overwhelming. My days start at 7:00 am, but when I started leaving at 8:00 pm, I knew that something had to give, and if I wasn’t careful, that “something” would be me. 

It’s too much, I thought. I can’t do this. 

When I met with my boss for my biannual performance review, there was no talk about my performance. Instead, it was more of a check-in to see how I was doing. With so many of my former coworkers out of work, the last thing I could do was complain. Instead, I said, “I am privileged to be here,” and I meant it.  

After detailing some of the work I was handling, my boss told me she wished there was something she could do, but, unfortunately, she said, there wasn’t. The shortage of staff after our recent workforce reduction has translated to a more massive load for everyone. That’s just the way it is. No one would dare protest as we all know there are two people collecting unemployment for every one of us who still have jobs. It is, indeed, a privilege to be employed in 2020. 

With the reality of all this sinking in, I knew that I couldn’t change my job, but I could change my mentality. 

On day four of feeling overwhelmed, I woke an hour before my alarm went off and thought of how I used to pray before work. It had previously been my practice to count my blessings, each morning, and ask God to bless my family and my day before even opening my eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I had done so.

Lately, I’d been waking early to rehearse all the things I needed to do and make a mental plan of attack for the day. In doing so, I had unwittingly eliminated two weapons in my arsenal against stress – prayer and Bible reading. I had been too busy for both, and my current mental state suffered from the lack thereof. 

Forgive me, Lord, I prayed. Help me remember to lean on You and let Your strength fill my day. The battle isn’t mine. It’s yours. Show me what to do. Give me the wisdom to accomplish what You want me to accomplish. Help me be the person that You want me to be. I give it all to You, dear Lord. 

I prayed like that, repeating my petitions, surrendering my burdens to God until my alarm went off. I knew that God kept me in my position for a reason. I needed to remember that He would give me the stamina to keep pressing on. He would see me through. My strength comes from God, after all – not by anything I could ever do on my own. 

That day at work, after my morning prayers, I felt happy again – full of energy and hope. My burdens hadn’t changed, but my joy in serving the Lord had been restored. I didn’t stay late at work that night. I did what I could in the time allotted to me, and then I went home, read my Bible, and thanked God for His provision. 

How often do I struggle senselessly, striving to win life’s battles on my own? Sure, I pray, but my prayers are usually for divine intervention or rescue. More often than not, God is not going to remove me from my challenging circumstances. 

Instead, He invites me to surrender and ask for His strength when my own has been exhausted. I don’t have to be super-woman all the time. God is the miracle-worker, the promise-keeper, and the champion I need to overcome my problems. His strength is all I need, and He is strong enough to overcome all my burdens. His power is enough – for both of us.  

I thank my God every time I remember you. (Philippians 1:3)

Today is my mother’s birthday. I’d mention what precise birthday this is, but the number has always been an unmentionable part of the remembrance. Since it’s her birthday, I’ll respect that wish and simply say that her years have made her all the more precious. 

More important than the number is the person, anyway. Today is exceptional because my mother is more so. My mom has always been my best friend. I know I can talk to her about anything, and she will always make me feel intelligent, talented, and beautiful. While the truth is that I am far from those things, as long as she thinks I am, that’s all that matters to me. 

My close bond with my mother intensified when I was fourteen after my brother was born. She and I shared an intense adoration of him as we watched and recorded every milestone in his life. Such a thing bonded the three of us, actually – and such a bond can never be broken. 

Six years ago, right after leaving my controlling husband, I took my first European trip with my mother. She always wanted to go to Italy, and I knew I had to take her there. What started as a week-long trip with a tour company ended up as a two-week-long annual excursion that my friends and co-workers now regularly inquire about. 

“Where are you going this year, Sara?” they ask, as they stare in wonder at the trip photos that grace my office. 

My mom and I have seen things others can barely envision. We’ve had experiences that few people could ever understand. While our journeys are memorable expeditions filled with beauty and majesty, they are also fraught with fear, tension, stress, and anxiety. We are two women traveling alone, after all, in foreign countries where we don’t speak the language. It’s only by the grace of God that we’ve made it through and come out smiling.

I am a combined travel planner, trip coordinator, driver, cook, security guard, and escort on these trips. We stay in rental apartments where the locals vacation and stick to a tight regimen of travel from town to town nearly every night. 

We’ve gotten lost in the dark woods with no cell signal in Sangerhausen, Germany, and had the lights go out in a building hallway while trying to find our apartment in Salzburg, Austria. We traveled at Mach speed on the German Autobahn in construction and rain with my contact lens nearly popping out of my eye and run to a train while dragging 50-pound bags of luggage in Rome, Italy.

In Genoa, Italy, we almost ran out of gas with no idea how to work the gas pumps in a deserted gas station. We prayed incessantly for safety while driving on the left-hand side of the road while seated on the right-hand side of our rental car in Edinburgh, Scotland. And on and on the stories go. I could give countless examples of God’s promised protection and provision while on these trips. 

But when detailing the trials, I must also chronicle the blessings we experienced. The God-moments that we have had are astounding. The most monumental was our chance encounter with Pope Francis in St. Paul’s cathedral in Rome. There was also the time we missed a turn near Garmisch, Germany, and nearly ended up in a parade – complete with horse-drawn carts, traditional costumes, and a full-blown blessing of the animals’ celebration. 

Whether it’s taking a cog-wheeled train to the highest station in the world in Switzerland or walking in on a BBC taping of a Wednesday afternoon church service in celebration of the Protestant Reformation’s 500th anniversary, the memories of my trips with my mother are resplendent with awe and wonder. 

I no longer refer to our trips as “vacations.” I now call them our “FROG Adventures” because we Fully Rely on God the entire time we are traveling. There will come a day when I will transfer my journal stories into mini books, detailing all our experiences. They are too remarkable to keep to myself. 

Unfortunately, this year, due to COVID restrictions, we’re unable to travel abroad. Instead, I will see my mom in Colorado, where she, my brother, and I will traverse the Rocky Mountains rather than the hills of foreign soil. It feels different, but any journey with my mother is a blessing. She is precious beyond description, to be sure. 

And so I end with the petition, “Above all, love one another deeply.” (1 Peter 4:8). We don’t know the number of days we will have with our loved ones, so each one is a gift to savor, cherish, and store in our memory banks. 

As for you, mom, I can only say, I love you beyond measure. You are of infinite value to me. While I’ve never been as smart as you think I am, I am the wealthiest person on earth to have you as my mother. 

I have countless, bejeweled memories of time spent with you, Mom. Thank you for believing in me. You are my most cherished blessing. For now and forevermore, I love you greatly.

See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many. (Hebrews 12:15)

We spend most of our adult lives in the workplace. Our understanding, intellect, and energy are infused into our jobs. I’ve always believed in the Biblical directive to “work as unto the Lord” (Colossians 3:23). Translation? I serve God by working to the best of my abilities – and then some – at all times. 

But what happens when we feel overlooked, overloaded, and overwhelmed by our workloads? And how do we respond when we experience injustice and indignity in the work environment?

I can answer both these questions, as I’m living these two experiences right now. Oftentimes, we lose heart – and our hearts are what empower us to rise above and prevail. In other words, these two combinations can wreak havoc on our ministry. I’m working hard to modify such an outcome, with God’s help. 

During our COVID work from home period, half the administrative assistants in my company were terminated. We became the least necessary of all workers for our corporation. While my executive retained me and laid off three of my peers, her actions did little to reassure me of my value. Her follow-up was to advise me that she was “doing all [she could] to keep me employed.” Small comfort, indeed.

Now, more than ever, the value extracted from the work I perform is nearly non-existent. 

Worse yet, one of my former peers was brought back to fill a created position that is now above me. Needless to say, this elevation further undermined my sense of worth in the workplace. 

I’m striving to accept this shift in the environment without becoming embittered by it. One way I do so is by wearing a rubber bracelet to work each day with the simple message, “I am second.” The words serve as a constant reminder that I must always place God and others before myself. Each morning I pray to be the person that God wants me to be. I am His servant, first and foremost. 

I am working to give my soul’s disquiet to God. It’s a daily struggle that I am praying God gives me the strength to overcome. 

As surely as I pull weeds from my garden, I consciously choose to yank out the root of bitterness I’ve felt trying to embed itself in my psyche. I can’t sway others, but I can discipline myself, and the formidable battle to do so is one I can’t afford to lose. 

Whatever controls me wins my heart, soul, and spirit.

May God grant me the strength to keep Him first in my life. My job is not to right wrongs or correct injustice. My goal is to keep Christ at the forefront of my existence and end the conflict in my head. It’s time for a ceasefire as I surrender and give the battle back to God.

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples if you love one another. (John 13:35)

In 1976, my mother, sisters, and I moved from Papillion, Nebraska to Woodlawn, Maryland – a suburb of Baltimore. In many ways, this move changed my life. I was an awkward, pimply-faced sixth grader with little glasses, buck-teeth, and twin braids, transplanted from the cornfield to the coliseum. The culture shock was unquantifiable and fitting in was never an option.

In Nebraska, I walked two blocks to my elementary school. My best friend had horses to ride, and her father bred black Angus cattle for a living. Apart from the harsh winter snows and unpredictable summer tornados, life in Nebraska was pretty great. I felt safe, secure, and happy. 

In contrast, being bused to a Baltimore County school meant I had to walk four blocks and cross a busy street to wait for a school bus to escort me to middle school each morning. Once on-board, I was lucky to find a seat. No one wanted to sit with the misfit and her duct-taped, antique saxophone case.

Most days, I walked back and forth on the moving bus while students shifted to the middle of their seats to prevent me from sitting with them. I would frequently sit on a seat’s edge, wherever I could find one, to keep the driver from yelling at me to sit down. The trip home after school presented the same problem in reverse – complete with plenty of mockery and name-calling.

Besides the above, I had a skin problem. I was white in a school that was ninety-eight percent black. I was the outcast, the outsider, the persona non grata. I will never forget the student who decided it was his mission to teach the “prairie girl” every four-letter word he could think of during art class when the teacher wasn’t listening. I felt utterly alone and afraid in nearly all of my classes. 

Nevertheless, it was during this time that I sought God.

My mom always listened to daily radio sermons when I was growing up, and as a gawky teenager, I made a conscious decision to do the same.

“Insight for Living,” with Dr. Charles Swindoll, was my favorite program. I tuned in to Pastor Chuck’s messages each weeknight and studied along with his mail-ordered, sermon notes. By doing so, I learned to lean on God when the world rejected me. I knew that my Heavenly Father never ceased to love me – in spite of my awkwardness – and His love strengthened my soul. 

I know what it’s like to be bullied, to be shunned by others because of the color of one’s skin. While a lot of forces were working against me in middle and high school, I always knew that God accepted me. His plan of salvation is for everyone – in spite of their skin color or appearance.

Perhaps one of the earliest songs I remember learning was “Jesus loves the little children,” whose words said, “Red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight. Jesus loves the little children of the world.” 

Political correctness would deem those words inappropriate now, but the message is as relevant today as when I first learned it. Jesus loves us. The pigment of our skin was created by God and shouldn’t matter to anyone. Jesus told us to love one another – without judgment or discrimination. We are commanded to love everyone – regardless of skin color or nationality.

Racism is a perpetual problem in every culture. Throughout history, humanity has seen hatred, prejudice, and hostility expressed from one people group to another – frequently due to skin color, nationality, or religion. For example:

• The Assyrians captured and enslaved millions of conquered foreigners in the 9th through 7th Centuries. (1)
• Greeks, Romans, and Babylonians continued this practice. 
• Roman persecution against Christians began under Nero in 64 AD and continued for over two centuries until 313 AD – killing hundreds of thousands of Christians. (2) 
• Jewish populations were expunged from European nations in Europe in the Middle Ages. (3)
• Jews and Muslims were forced to convert to Christianity in 17th Century Spain. (4)
• Pioneers worked to eradicate North American Indian tribes while settling the mid-west in the mid-1800s. (4)
• Between 1915 and 1920, the Turkish government massacred approximately one and a half million Armenians. (5)
• Joseph Stalin is believed to be responsible for the execution of an estimated one-million Russians between 1936 and 1938. While his initial exterminations were aimed at members of Lenin’s Communist Party and Bolsheviks, Stalin’s massacre included “peasants, ethnic minorities, artists, scientists, intellects, writers, foreigners, and ordinary citizens.” Stalin’s bloodbath continued with the killing of women and children for the perceived liability of their husbands and parents. (6)
• Adolf Hitler’s Nazi Party killed an estimated six million Jews between 1933 and 1945. (7)
• The Hutus massacred hundreds of thousands of Tutsi’s in Yugoslavia and Rwanda in 1994. (8)
• Sudanese military groups killed hundreds of thousands and displaced millions of Darfur refugees, beginning in 2003. (9)
• Current estimates attribute genocidal levels to the millions of Christians killed, uprooted, kidnapped, and imprisoned in the Middle East in an ongoing struggle. (10)

In response to the above, I suggest that we do not have a skin problem in the world; we have a sin problem. Evil and ethnic hatred exist. There is no disputing that reality. 

Nevertheless, so does love – and there is no enmity in love. “Above all, keep loving one another earnestly, since love covers a multitude of sins.” (1 Peter 4:8)

As history has proven, we may never eliminate societal prejudice, racism, and malice. It has always existed, and likely always will. 

Nevertheless, we can purposely endeavor to love one another. The Bible tells us, “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.” (Romans 12:18)

Far better than anything we could ever preach is the outward demonstration of Christ’s genuine love that lives inside every believer.

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples,” (John 13: 34-35) C

Color blindness starts with us. No matter how someone treats us, where they were born, or what they look like, we are directed to demonstrate love. Such affection shows what governs us and who we belong to.

After all, they will know we are Christians by our love.

References: 

1. 2019, June 10. Ethnic cleansing. Retrieved from https://www.history.com/topics/holocaust/ethnic-cleansing
2. Lunn-Rockliffe, S. 2011, February 2. Christianity and the Roman Empire. Retrieved from http://www.bbc.co.uk/history/ancient/romans/christianityromanempire_article_01.shtml#:~:text=Christians%20were%20first%20%2D%20and%20horribly,destroyed%20much%20of%20the%20city.
3. 2019, June 10. Ethnic cleansing. 
4. Ibid.
5. 2019, October 31. Armenian Genocide. Retrieved from https://www.history.com/topics/world-war-i/armenian-genocide
6. 2018, August 21. Great Purge. Retrieved from https://www.history.com/topics/russia/great-purge
7. 2019, June 10. Ethnic cleansing. 
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid. 
10. Wintour, P. 2019, May 2. Persecution of Christians ‘coming close to genocide’ in Middle East – report. Retrieved from https://www.theguardian.com/world/2019/may/02/persecution-driving-christians-out-of-middle-east-report

He replied, “Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you.” (Matthew 17:20)

Gardening requires faith. We take tiny dead seeds, place them in the ground, cover them with dirt, give them water, pray for sun, then hope that our efforts won’t be in vain. Sometimes we’re rewarded with considerable crops. Other times, we see little reward for all our valiant endeavors. As I lifetime gardener, I can fully attest to both outcomes. 

This year, for the first time, I planted everything in my garden from seeds. I’ve previously seeded beans, corn, and leafy vegetables but this is the first time I’ve tried seeding tomatoes. I’m not sure I would have attempted to do so were it not for the suggestion from a co-worker of mine.

After learning we were fellow gardeners, my friend told me he had purchased an abundance of tomato seeds for his brother and offered whatever remained to me. A kind gesture, I thought, but I was wary about the results. Growing plants from seeds can be hard. I wasn’t quite ready to try tomatoes this way.

While working from home during the COVID pandemic, I emailed my friend for assistance with a work-related matter. After thanking him for his help, I asked him how his garden was doing. In his response, he detailed the health of his hydroponic plants, then reminded me, anew, about his remaining seeds. I asked him to tell me what varieties he still retained.

Rather than sending me a list of names, my friend sent me a link to the descriptions of his heirlooms, and I was immediately hooked. From his inventory, I chose the following: 

• Azoychka – Russian yellow. An abundant producer with a slight hit of citrusy sweetness.
• Black Prince – Three to five-ounce fruit. Dark brown with red interior. Originally from Irkutsk, Siberia. 
• Jubilee – Drought-tolerant yellow. Southern heirloom. Heavy producer. 
• Hillbilly – A West Virginia heirloom, the marbled yellow and red coloring remains inside and out. Beefsteak tomato, producing one to three-pound fruit. 
• Mr. Stripey – Beefsteak variety with yellow-orange flesh and subtle red striping. Two-pound slicing tomato.

When the day came to plant my seeds, I was shocked at their minuscule size. The tiny, flat particles looked so small and frail that it was hard to imagine a large plant growing from something so diminutive. I planted three seeds per mound and hoped that at least one would survive. Months later, I’m excited to say that I now have thirty-seven thriving plants from my original twenty-four mounds – some of which are now nearly shoulder-high. 

While planting my seeds, I was reminded anew of how Christ spoke of our need for faith by using a common seed in His illustration. There are so many lessons to glean from this comparison.

I must have faith to believe in a God I can’t see. Just as I can’t see the mature plant when I bury its seed, I witness evidence of plant maturity everywhere I look. From the beautiful mimosa trees in my yard to the hundred-year-old live oaks in downtown Savannah, all plant life grows from seeds.

I may not see God but the evidence that He exists resides in everything from plants to the molecular structure of my body.

My faith reminds me that Christ’s perfect sacrifice provides the only means for my eternal salvation. I may want to take credit for the growth of my plants, but the fact remains that humans have very little control over the force of nature.

Similarly, I may try to earn my way into heaven by leading a good life and helping others, but the Bible reminds me that all my “all [my] righteousnesses are as filthy rags.” (Isaiah 64:6). “For by grace [I am] saved through faith; and that not of [myself]: it is the gift of God.” (Ephesians 2:8)

Even a little faith in Christ can turn impossibilities into possibilities. Faith in myself is not enough. I can’t make a tiny seed become a big plant – but God can. Let’s look at the impossibilities of DNA, in general. Human bodies contain approximately ten trillion DNA cells. If all these cells were joined together, they would stretch from the earth to the moon and back to earth one thousand, five hundred times. (1) How all this information can be housed in our bodies is unthinkable, and yet scientific study has proven it to be a reality.

Such intelligence and intricacies did not incidentally appear. Such impossibilities do not just happen. “With God all things are possible.” (Luke 1:37) It takes more faith to believe in random creation than to acknowledge the reality of a divine Creator.

From an insignificant seed – whether tomato or mustard – miraculous things grow. From tiny faith, incredible blessings follow. 

Just as I believe my plants will grow, I believe that God will take care of me. “And my God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 4:19) I’ve seen this fact proved over and over again in my personal life. God has sustained me through every challenging situation I’ve ever faced in life. That’s a fact that can never be disputed.

From the moment I accepted Christ into my heart, my life has never been the same. He has taken my small faith and made it grow large enough to move mountains – or grow tomatoes. Nothing is impossible with God. 

Reference:

1. Braganza, M. 2016, November 6. Your DNA can stretch to the moon. Retrieved from https://www.dnaindia.com/technology/report-your-dna-can-stretch-to-the-moon-2270567#:~:text=Every%20human%20being%20has%20about,and%20come%20back%20four%20times.

And the woman said to the serpent, “We may eat of the fruit of the trees in the garden, but God said, ‘You shall not eat of the fruit of the tree that is in the midst of the garden, neither shall you touch it, lest you die.’” But the serpent said to the woman, “You will not surely die. For God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.”

Since the dawn of creation, man has been trying to recreate the Garden of Eden. We plant, nurture, and cultivate flower beds to enjoy the beauty of our landscapes – always seeking perfection in doing so. Such plantings give us peace and happiness as we wonder at the artistry and sweet fragrance that flowers bring to the world. My yard is no exception. 

Since moving into my home in the summer of 2018, I’ve been slowly adding flower beds to my yard. My original plantings were influenced by cost – meaning, I could only afford clearance plants or items that were on sale. When many of my flowers died, I learned to create garden plans, pick better plants, check them for optimal health, and pay more attention to the soil and upkeep. This year, my gardens are thriving. 

Gardening is an active hobby. Digging, planting, staking, weeding, watering – all these things take time and hard work. When I look at my gardens now, I know that every lovely flourish was hard-earned through the incalculable cost of my sweat equity. 

This year, for example, I purchased a dump truck-load of garden soil that could only be unloaded outside my yard. Slowly, wheelbarrow by wheelbarrow, I moved the dirt from near my front driveway to my backyard vegetable garden: 45 wheelbarrows, in all. 

Once this garden was complete, I carted additional loads of dirt to create a new flower bed, then supplemented old plots of existing, sandy soil with the richer dirt where former plantings weren’t doing well. Each of these jobs required the hard work of shoveling soil, pushing the heavy burdens to the gardens, cultivating it, and going back for more. It was hot, sweaty, filthy labor, not for the faint of heart. 

Last weekend, while preparing to cut the grass in my yard, I spotted a hole under my fence, made by one of the armadillos that dig in my yard for grubs. While kicking the soil back under the fence, a movement caught my eye that made me jump up and back in alarm. 

A little over a foot away from where I had just kicked the dirt sat a young, two-foot-long copperhead snake. As I ran into my house to grab my camera-phone, I kept repeating, “Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus! Thank you, Jesus!’ I knew that snake, young as it was, could have dealt a painful bite to my bare ankles and legs. There was no doubt in my mind that God protected me. 

As I watched the snake move across the back perimeter of my yard, it struck me how often God protects me from things that I so seldom give credence. There is never a day when the Devil is not seeking to steal my joy and focus my attention on anything other than my blessings. How often do I acknowledge these protections? Not often enough. 

I work hard – both at home and in the office. Since our workplace reduction a few weeks ago, I’ve been serving eleven-hour, stress-filled days, with little security that my position will remain. I focus on every mistake that I make – and I make plenty – as I try to keep up with my heavy workload. My workplace insecurity and duties often carry into my dreams, whether I want them to or not. 

But aren’t anxiety and insecurity tools of the Devil? Of course, they are. I dare say they may be some of the most powerful tools in his arsenal. 

“[Satan] was a murderer from the beginning, not holding to the truth, for there is no truth in him. When he lies, he speaks his native language, for he is a liar and the father of lies.” (John 8:44)

“You’re not worthy,” he tells me. “You won’t last long. You can’t do anything right. It’s only a matter of time before you will fail, and you, too, will be gone.” 

Are such observations accurate? Of course not. God knows I strive to perform above and beyond what’s expected of me. Am I perfect? Far from it. Do I make mistakes? All the time. Nevertheless, I can’t focus on my imperfections as they will always remain and don’t make me who I am. 

Rather than listen to the lies, I choose to focus on my blessings. I have a job when others do not. I have food in my refrigerator, a beautiful home and yard, money in the bank, a dependable car to drive, and I am healthy. More importantly, my family is healthy. Many others cannot say the same. 

There will always be a snake in the garden, seeking to cause me fear and alarm – slithering about as he strives to redirect my attention away from the beauty and blessings that surround me. By focusing on God’s Word, the promises He made never to leave or forsake me (Joshua 1: 5), and all the ways God has protected me in the past, I have all the tools I need to resist Satan’s deceptions. 

The Devil told his first lie to Eve when he said to her, “You will not surely die.” The existence God created for humankind was lost when Eve disobeyed God. Her utopia ceased and was replaced by the pain and hardship that has plagued humanity from the moment that first, fateful apple was eaten. Sin bears consequences. God’s warning was true, as is every other word that He gave us in the Bible. 

• I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness. (Jeremiah 31:3)
• For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. (John 3:17)
• My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? (John 14:2)
• Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me.” (John 14:6)
• The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs–heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in His sufferings in order that we may also share in His glory. (Romans 8:16-17)

God loves me – wholeheartedly, passionately, completely. I am His beloved child, and He will always take care of me. While bad things may sometimes happen in my world, I cannot live my life in fear of the same. 

Beware the snake in the grass, beloved. Satan is always waiting to strike and cause us harm. 

But God’s Word, His love, and His protection are always with us. He will never allow any harm to come to us without it being for His purpose. Such a thought gives me comfort. May it do the same for you today.