Uncategorized Archives - Jodie Berndt

You’re on the Same Team: Handling Conflict in Marriage

06.02.2023

(This post about handling conflict appeared last week on Ann Voskamp’s site, one of the most beautiful corners of the digital world. I’m sharing the words in this space today, but if you want to read them with all of Ann’s exquisite photos mixed in, click here to access the original version.)

When Christopher proposed to our daughter Virginia, he arranged for both families to be there to celebrate. As I looked around the room at two sets of parents and four pairs of married siblings, I realized we had more than one hundred years of marital wisdom between us. What, I asked, was everyone’s best piece of advice?

The group offered up plenty of pearls, from caring about your partner’s interests to finding new ways to serve each other, but the takeaway I remember most came from our son-in-law Geoff, who talked about how to approach conflict in marriage.

“Remember,” he said, “that you are on the same team. It’s easy to forget that in the heat of the moment, but ultimately, a win against your spouse is actually a loss because if you’re winning an argument, then they are losing—and that is a loss for your team. Your team is bigger and more important than any individual victory.”

Approaching marriage with this mindset—that you are a team and you want each other to win—becomes even more powerful when you realize who your adversary really is.

It’s not your spouse.

You may think they are the problem—they never help with the housework, they spend too much money, they always make you late, they whatever—but those issues are just spillover symptoms of our self-centered nature. The real problem—the real enemy—is Satan.

Jesus calls him the thief, the one who “comes only to steal and kill and destroy.”

Satan hates marriage, plain and simple, because it reflects God’s love for his people.

It doesn’t matter how conflict-riddled your relationship is. Satan’s purpose—his goal—is to completely destroy it. And when we buy the lie that our spouse is our adversary, we play right into Satan’s hands.

The apostle Paul knew we’d come up against Satan’s schemes. “Be careful how you live,” he wrote in Ephesians 5:15-16. “Don’t live like fools, but like those who are wise. Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days. Don’t act thoughtlessly, but understand what the Lord wants you to do.”

So what does that look like, in practical terms? How do we live like those who are wise, making the most of the tension or quarrels we share? Can conflict become a catalyst for growing in grace?

Growth will look different in every marriage, but let’s look at five things we can do to protect our marriage and fight on behalf of our team.

1. Believe you will make it.

The average couple argues about 312 times per year. And according to researcher Shaunti Feldhahn, how we think about conflict can make all the difference. If we think things will never get better—if the ship is going to sink anyway—we may decide to stop bailing and just work on escaping the wreck. But if we hit stormy seas and think we’ll survive, we will do what’s needed to “right the ship, patch the holes, and keep sailing.”

2. Don’t go to bed mad.

Getting angry isn’t a sin; it’s a normal human emotion. But holding on to that anger—letting it fester and put down roots in your heart—is a no-no. “Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry,” Ephesians 4:26-27 says, “and do not give the devil a foothold.” Sometimes we won’t be able to resolve differences before the sun sets. When that happens, don’t keep talking, lest you say something you’ll later regret. Table the discussion until the next day, when your heads are clear.

3. Don’t fight in public.

Don’t argue in front of other people. Bring a trusted professional counselor into the mix, but don’t complain about your spouse to your friends. And if your friends are people who trash their spouses (to their face or behind their back), get new friends. The writer of Proverbs might well have had married couples in mind when he dished up this pointed advice: “Become wise by walking with the wise; hang out with fools and watch your life fall to pieces.”

4. Be kind.

Being kind doesn’t mean we can’t express anger. Rather, kindness can shape what our anger looks like. You don’t have to throw spears at your spouse; just put into words why you’re hurt, disappointed, or angry. It may sound impossible to be kind during a fight, but don’t let contempt or aggression get the better of you.

5. Pray.

My mom tells the story of how irritated she was when her husband repeatedly left dirty dishes in the sink—until God prompted her to time herself as she loaded the dishwasher. Thirteen seconds. Thirteen seconds was all it took to clean up after her husband—and to pray. “Now,” she says, “John sometimes loads the dishwasher on his own, but even if I have to do the dishes for the rest of my life, I’ll cherish the chance I get to pray for him for those few extra seconds.”

As she prioritized prayer over provocation, Mom discovered what researchers have long known to be true: Prayer takes the edge off.

Studies show that it calms our nervous system, makes us less reactive, and shuts down the fight-or-flight response that can cause a conflict to escalate in a flash.

Not only that, but when you pray for the spouse who hurts or offends you, it’s hard to stay mad. When you commit to bringing someone before the Lord—asking God to bless them, protect them, and pour good things into their lives—you begin to have a vested interest in their well-being. A warmth starts to soften your heart. It may not be full-on love, at least at first, but it will grow.

Conflict can become a catalyst for grace—and that’s always a win for your team.

❤️

Read more about handling conflict (and discover how you can talk about it with your spouse) in Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage. If you want a preview of what’s inside, click here to download two sample chapters. And thank you, Ann Voskamp, for the cover photos I’ve shared in this post. You make everything beautiful.

Leaving, Cleaving, and Protecting Your Marriage

03.31.2023

Leaving and cleaving—making a lifelong commitment to your spouse that takes priority over your parental relationships—can be hard. The Hebrew word for this union means being literally “glued” to your partner, not just physically, but emotionally, socially, and spiritually too. And that (not surprisingly) can lead to some sticky situations.

Robbie and I got married young—fresh out of college—and the clash in our expectations about who was supposed to do what played itself out almost every night I the kitchen. Robbie wasn’t as helpful as my dad had been, and I let him know it—sometimes with sarcasm (I billed it as “humor”), sometimes by banging a few pots and pans, and sometimes by giving my brand-new husband the silent treatment.

I also prayed. “Lord, can’t you fix Robbie?”, I’d say.

Meanwhile, Robbie was probably praying some “fix my spouse” prayers of his own. His mom is one of the most selfless women I’ve ever met, and since his dad worked so hard (often leaving their home well before daylight to get to the office), she would get up when he did so she could fix his breakfast. One time, he came back from the restroom at 2:30 a.m. to find the bed made and his wife on the way to the kitchen. “I’m sorry,” she laughed. “I thought we were up!”

I adore my mother-in-law. And in many ways, I want to be just like her. But that doesn’t mean I’m above pretending to be still asleep when I hear Robbie stirring in the hope that he’ll get up, start the coffee, and let the dog out.

No perfect families

Not only does leaving and cleaving mean taking two people from two distinct backgrounds and trying to merge them into one functional and happy relationship. It also means trying to navigate healthy relationships with the people you’ve left.

The Bible showcases several particularly dysfunctional situations: Jacob (who woke up married to the wrong bride, thanks to her father’s treachery), Tamar (who impersonated a prostitute in order to have sex with her widowed father-in-law after he did her wrong), and David (whose father-in-law gave his wife to another man, both to make David angry and to block his claim to the kingship). These stories must have been incredibly painful, but they didn’t end there. Jacob, Tamar and David all show up in the lineage of Jesus. God took their worst pain points and redeemed them, and he can do the same thing for us.

Scripture also highlights some beautiful in-law dynamics. When Moses found himself overwhelmed by the Israelites’ needs and disputes, his father-in-law came up with a workable plan, which Moses gratefully put in to practice. Peter’s mother-in-law lived with him in what was evidently a domestic situation marked by mutual love, service, and delight in caring for one another. And Ruth’s steadfast loyalty to her mother-in-law transformed not just their desperate lives but, generations later, the whole world through the birth of Jesus.

There is no perfect family, of course, and no flawless in-law relationship. But is there anything we can do to point our families in the direction of folks like Peter, Moses, and Ruth, and away from the manipulative, painful, or dysfunctional patterns that may be part of our own family stories?

Three ways to honor your in-laws (and protect your marriage)

“Honor your father and your mother,” says Deuteronomy 5:16, “so that you may live long and that it may go well with you.” That’s a command (and a promise) that doesn’t expire when you get married. Honoring our parents is a lifelong obligation and privilege, even in families where everything in us screams that they don’t deserve it.

Does that mean doing everything our parents and in-laws want? No. It means showing them love and respect. Speaking with kindness and grace. Treating them the way we’d like to be treated—even as we honor and protect our own marriages. As Robbie and I have looked at couples who’ve done the “leaving and cleaving” thing well, even amid challenging family dynamics, we’ve identified a handful of strategies that can help.

First, don’t make decisions without your spouse’s input.

Parents and in-laws may have all sorts of plans or advice they want you to follow—input about everything from how you spend holidays to how you handle your finances to how you parent their grandchildren—but at the end of the day, unity with your spouse should always trump parent-pleasing. Listen to your in-laws, thank them for their opinion, and then do what you and your spouse believe to be best.

Second, find out what says “I love you” to your folks and do that.

Much has been made about “love languages” in marriage—affirming words, quality time, material gifts, acts of service, and physical touch—but these things apply to our parent and in-law relationships too.

Is your mother-in-law big on celebrating birthdays? Plan ahead to honor her with a special gathering or, if gifts make her feel loved, think about what she might like to receive. Is your father-in-law an NFL fan? Brush up on his favorite team and call him to talk about how they’re doing—or, if you live nearby, watch a game together. Send your folks a handwritten note for no reason other than to express appreciation. These little acts of kindness don’t take a lot of time, but they demonstrate love and respect and help create a climate in which trust—and healthy communication—can flourish.

And finally, trust God to work in and through your marriage.

Every marriage is different, but we have this in common: We’re all imperfect people who come from imperfect families. We need the presence of a perfect God to work in our midst, knitting together our mismatched histories, equipping us to honor our parents and in-laws, and showing us how to establish healthy family dynamics for generations to come.

God glued you together in marriage. Whatever your background and whatever in-law pressures you may find yourself facing, you can link arms with the Lord—knowing that he holds your relationship in his hands—and press forward together.

“He’s like you Dad! Except he’s brilliant!”

Again, leaving and cleaving is tricky, even in the most picture-perfect families—families where (to quote Annie Banks), “He’s like you Dad! Except he’s brilliant!”

Whether you’re just starting out, you’ve been married for years, or you’re a mom (or a dad!) who’s getting ready to let go of your child, a few prayers from the new book can help:

Heavenly Father,

(For parents of the bride and/or groom): Help us release our children so that they can hold fast to each other, becoming one flesh in every way. (Genesis 2:24)

(For the bride and/or groom): Show us how to honor our parents and in-laws so that it may go well with us and we may enjoy a long life on earth. (Ephesians 6:2-3)

(For any marriage): As we consider our different upbringings, help us reject what is wrong, hold tightly to what is good, and delight in honoring one another. (Romans 12:9-10)

Amen

❤️

P.S. Don’t forget that when you preorder Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage, you can get immediate access to a set of 20 different Conversation Cards that feature topics like getting started, protecting your marriage, and leaving and cleaving. Visit JodieBerndt.com for details.

Gorillas on the guest list? That sounds fun!

03.17.2023

Some weddings are more fun than others.

And in what I still consider one of the biggest wedding whoopsies of all time, we didn’t hire a photographer to capture the memories when my mother married John 17 years ago. You’ll just have to use your imagination when I tell you that a gorilla kidnapped Mom off the dance floor and whisked her away in a boat, whereupon John–looking every bit like James Bond in his spiffy tuxedo–jumped on a jet ski and gave chase.

Gorillas on the guest list or not, the union of husband and wife is, as we’re often reminded at weddings, “intended by God for their mutual joy.” God wants us to have fun together! And laughter, as it turns out, really is good medicine: According to researchers at the Mayo Clinic, it releases endorphins, relieves stress, and soothes tension through improved circulation. It combats depression and anxiety and increases self esteem. And the positive thoughts that trigger laughter also release neuropeptides that improve our immune systems.

Not only that, but laughter can help us connect and “make it easier to cope with difficult situations.”

What marriage couldn’t use more of that?

Get serious about having fun

Having fun together might sound like something that happens naturally in a marriage (why would you marry somebody you didn’t enjoy?). But even the most upbeat, well-matched couples will go through hard seasons–months or years, even–when we need to guard against joy stealers like stress and fatigue.

So what do we do? How do we intentionally make space to play, to enjoy one another, to laugh?

You could order a book of dad jokes. I did that one year for Robbie (Why can’t you hear a pterodactyl going to the bathroom? Because the “P” is silent), and we shared a few groans. In retrospect, a better idea is to talk to our actual Dad–the one who wants us to have fun and be joyful–and ask him to help. We can borrow King David’s words to shape our prayer: “Make known to us the path of life; fill us with joy in your presence.” (Psalm 16:11)

As we pray, we can also ask ourselves a few questions:

What would it take for us to be more intentional about having fun?

Are there things we need to let go of in order to make space to play? Do we need to get away together?

What does fun look like to you?

Having fun looks different for everyone. For instance, Robbie has fun anytime that he’s on a boat. Me, I have fun anytime I can talk my man into pretending he’s happy to be in a picture with one of my books.

Don’t yuck each other’s yum

As you think about what you and your spouse might want to do–take a dance class, attend a music festival, or embark on some unexpected adventure–take turns making plans. And try to make twice-a-month date nights a regular part of your marriage routine. According to a new report from the National Marriage Project at UVA and the Wheatley Institute, regularly dating your spouse is linked to a happier and more stable relationship–one marked by better communication, less stress, more satisfying sex, and a stronger commitment to their marriage.

(All of which sounds fun to me!)

And as our daughters told us when they were teens, “Don’t yuck each other’s yum.” Just because something doesn’t sound fun to you doesn’t mean it won’t be fun if you try it–at least once–with your spouse. Robbie rolled his eyes when I bought a pickleball net and handed him the sidewalk chalk to map out a court in our driveway. Maybe it’s because the driveway slants a bit and is ringed by some particularly prickly holly bushes, but when we invited another couple to join us, we laughed ’til our stomachs hurt.

Brainstorm some ideas and give them a try. Be intentional about creating a climate in which laughter can thrive. And whether you’re naturally funny or not (and if not, that’s okay; the world needs regular people who appreciate the fact that other people invite gorillas to show up at their wedding), ask God to help you rejoice.

Jesus came, after all, to tell us how to live so his joy would be in us and our joy, as John 15:11 puts it, would be “full.”

❤️

P.S. There’s a whole chapter on having fun together in the new book. And when you pre-order a copy of Praying the Scriptures for Marriage, you can get immediate access to a set of printable conversation cards, a collection designed to help you connect with each other (and with God!) about all sorts of topics.

And while I have no idea who snapped this photo, I’m forever grateful to the guest who had the presence of mind to take a pic on the dance floor, moments before the D.J. started playing the theme from King Kong…

God’s Purpose for Your Marriage

03.03.2023

Why did (or do) you want to get married? Other than the obvious reasons—you love someone and want to spend your life with that person—is there a bigger purpose at work?

Robbie and I hadn’t really talked about marriage before he proposed (it’s one of two times I’ve been utterly gobsmacked by a move that he’s made), and we certainly didn’t head to the altar with any sort of goal or “purpose” in mind. Sure, we had big-picture ideas—I envisioned kids and the picket-fence thing; I am pretty sure Robbie wanted a dog (and “I” got a birthday puppy one year, which was the second gobsmack)—but we’d never really considered what God thought about marriage. Or what his vision for our marriage might be.

Now, nearly four decades later, I am finally waking up to the fact that God does have a vision for marriage. As I pulled the pages together for the new book—talking with dozens of couples about their own perspectives on purpose and exploring the Bible to see what God had to say—I’m boiling it all down to this:

God wants us to bear fruit in our marriages and he wants our relationships to showcase the gospel.

The Christian idea of marriage is one of mutual submission and service, one where we give up ourselves—our rights, our desires, our position, our needs—for each other out of love. Even (maybe especially?) when we are not pretty or perfect, or we don’t think that the other person deserves it.

The privilege we have to build marriages that reflect the gospel as we “walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us” is the theme that undergirds pretty much every chapter in Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage. But the other part of our mission—the fruit-bearing part—can look different for every couple. Sure, it’s a charge the Lord gives to every believer (he chose us, he says in John 15:16, so that we might go and bear lasting fruit), but how do we do that, exactly?

A vision for your marriage

For many folks, the idea of “being fruitful” in marriage means having children. (At least that’s what my mom seems to think, since she signed every one of our engagement and wedding gift cards with Genesis 1:28 and a big smiley face.) Honestly though, that’s only part of the picture. The fruit-bearing charge is one that pops up again and again in the Bible. “I chose you,” Jesus says in John 15:16, “so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last.”

So how do we do that, exactly? How can we be sure that our lives—and more specifically, our marriages—will be meaningful and productive, in a way that endures? What if we have different ideas about, say, the best uses of money and time? How can we merge our individual (maybe even competing) desires so we have a unified sense of calling?

Those are legitimate questions—questions that have led many couples to lean in and do the same thing many businesses and ministries do and create a “purpose statement” for their marriage.

Having a purpose statement is like adding bumper guards to your relationship: it can keep you in your own lane as you consider the unlimited ways to spend your limited time, talents, and energy. Some couples write their statement in paragraph form, others prefer bullet points that detail their core values (service, adventure, humility, etc.). One fellow I talked with keeps notebooks for the different goals he and his wife have for their marriage; other people—like my mom and her husband—keep their vision simple. “We just want to bless and cherish each other,” Mom told me, “and then do that again the next day.”

Praying about your purpose

Whether you’ve got a big picture vision, a detailed notebook, or you find yourself somewhere in between, it can help to remember what Jesus says about purposeful, productive living: “If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” Put another way, the power to discover and live out our purpose doesn’t come from our own strength or striving; it comes from our attachment to Christ.

Not only that, but Jesus makes it pretty clear that fruitfulness begins with prayer. “If you remain in me and my words remain in you,” he continues in John 15:7-8, “ask whatever you wish and it will be done for you. This is to my father’s glory, that you bear much fruit, showing yourselves to be my disciples.”

Ask…that you bear much fruit.

If praying about your purpose (and doing so with your spouse) feels awkward or unfamiliar, you’re not alone. Research suggests that only 4 percent of Christian couples pray together—about anything—despite evidence that points to a divorce rate of less than 1 percent among those who pray together daily. Still though, I want you encourage you to give it a try, even if it’s just for five or ten minutes. Set a timer if that helps; do what works!

As you pray, start by asking the Holy Spirit to help you answer some clarifying questions:

What are your individual strengths? What unique gifts do you have as a couple? What is it that you find easy to do, where others might struggle?

What do you love to do, even if it’s hard? When do you feel most alive? What gives you purpose and joy?

Where can you make an impact? What does your wider sphere of influence look like? How might God want to use you in that space?

Those questions aren’t meant to be all-inclusive; rather, they’re designed to help form your thoughts as you pray. And where you come up against thorny patches—individual strengths that feel competitive, priorities that seem misaligned, personality traits or individual longings that have you and your spouse pointed in opposite directions—bring those to God, too.

Your differences don’t catch God by surprise; in fact, they may be the very things that equip you to fulfill your calling. They may be what makes you, as our friends Alyssa and Jefferson Bethke put it, “Stronger together.”

You can read more about fulfilling your purpose in the new book. It releases April 25, and—

What’s that you say? You don’t want to wait? You want to start bearing fruit now?

Well alrighty then. I’ve got some good news. Great news, actually. All you need to do is pre-order the book (which is super easy; click here) and then click here to let us know your order number. We’ll send you a set of 20 different conversation cards—including one on FULFILLING YOUR PURPOSE—so you can start talking (and praying!) about all sorts of good marriage topics TODAY!

I hope you like these cards as much as Robbie and I do. We had fun coming up with the questions—they got us talking!—and now we’re having even more fun talking to God about all of the stuff!

More to come in the weeks ahead—and as always, I am grateful for you!

“May the God who gives endurance and encouragement give you the same attitude of mind toward each other that Christ Jesus had, so that with one mind and one voice you may glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (Romans 15:5-6)

Talk to me…like lovers do

03.01.2023

Want some fresh ways to talk to your spouse–and to God–about your marriage?

I’m sliding into your inbox today with the quickest announcement about my favorite freebie of all time: CONVERSATION CARDS.

Good communication is vital to any relationship, especially marriage. We’ve designed these CONVERSATION CARDS with 20 unique questions and prayer prompts based on my new book, Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage. Sized just right for slipping into a pocket or purse, the cards are perfect for date nights, breakfast table convos, or any time you and your spouse want to connect–with each other and God–in a meaningful way.

Here’s the best part: The set is FREE when you pre-order the book! And you don’t have to wait for release day on April 25; you can download the cards today! Just pop over to jodieberndt.com and enter your order number on the form that pops up. We’ll send you an email with the link to download; all you need to do is print ’em, cut ’em out, and start talking!

“Then those whose lives honored God got together and talked it over. God saw what they were doing and listened in.” (Malachi 3:16 MSG)

The Christmas Sleigh

12.23.2022

Funny, the things you inherit. I got my grandmother’s sewing machine, her love for finding shells on the beach, and an old wooden sleigh designed to hold Christmas cards.

When the sleigh came to us in the mid-90’s, it was long overdue for a tune-up. The thing languished in the attic until about ten years ago, when Charlie—a gifted woodworker—began courting Hillary and I put the decrepit heirloom in his hands. I didn’t say he had to fix it—not in so many words—but Charlie catches on quick. He did a beautiful job.

This year, Grandma’s sleigh got another makeover: a wintry white and gold mix, courtesy of Virginia Beach artist Terre Ittner. I wanted to add a Bible verse to the paint job. Was there something, I wondered, that captured the spirit of Christmas cards?

“Good news from a distant land.”

I sensed the Holy Spirit’s whisper, but I knew that was only part of the promise. What was the rest of the verse? And where did it show up in the Bible? I needed help and, as usual, BibleGateway.com delivered:

Like cold water to a weary soul is good news from a distant land.

That’s Proverbs 25:25. And honestly? I can’t think of a better reason to send Christmas cards.

Because our souls are weary. Parched, even. And more than a few of us (including our beloved U.Va. family) are grieving, even as we hold onto hope this holiday season. We need good news—whether it’s from a distant land or our next-door neighbor.

Every year Robbie and I come up with a dozen reasons why we’re not going to send cards—the hours involved, the jaw-dropping postage, the angst over not saving the planet—and every year, as soon as the greetings from the first crop of over-achievers show up in our mailbox, we change our minds.

Words like JOY and PEACE come as a balm to the soul, particularly because we know there are unmet longings and prayers that have yet to be answered behind every card.

Family pictures testify to the enduring blessing of friends and the beauty unleashed when we carry one another’s burdens.

And cards that carry God’s promises (even obscure verses from Proverbs) provide an anchor for hope.

Our little refurbished heirloom has held a fair slice of history, the heartaches and joys that have colored at least five generations. And I can’t help but think that if she could speak, the sleigh would sing of the “hopes and fears of all the years” that are met in Christ—the good news that is the fundamental message of Christianity—and echo the very first Christmas greeting:

“Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.” (Luke 2:10-11)

Sending much love from our home to yours this Christmas—along with the good news that is Jesus!

🎄

P.S. You may know that Praying the Scriptures for Your Marriage releases in April. The book was both a delight and a challenge to write (Robbie read every word and offered more than a few valuable edits0, and I’m hoping to take a long winter’s nap in January. See you back here in February 2023. Happy New Year—I’m grateful for you!

Advent calendar offers anxiety antidote

11.23.2022

Advent begins on Sunday.

I know. That feels fast. We haven’t even popped the turkey in the oven (and okay, some of us may still be at the grocery store), but I’m sliding into your inbox today, breaking my own once-a-month-ish newsletter rule, because if you’re feeling at all anxious about the holiday season (or, for that matter, if you’re stressed about anything), I’ve got good news—plus a printable (and pretty) resource designed just for you.

Adoration is the anxiety antidote.

Now, I’m not making light of the worries, even panic attacks, that can color our days. These joy-stealers are real. (Ask me how I know.)

But what’s also real—what is scientifically proven—is that when we praise God, our brains release dopamine, the chemical that makes us feel good.

Worship can change. your. brain.

It’s true. And just a few minutes of worship—making an intentional choice to praise God every day—can change your brain. If you’ve got time between peeling potatoes and prepping the stuffing (and you don’t mind reading words like “cingulate cortex”), you can click here for the research download. But if you want my quick take on the topic, it’s simply this:

Worship, in a nutshell, means giving honor and glory to God. And when we look at our lives through the lens of God’s character, everything shifts. Problems that once loomed impossibly scary or large start to shrink. Everything finds its place in light of God’s splendor. His holiness reveals our flaws; his mercy allows us to confess them; his faithfulness emboldens us to come before him with our every need.

As Ann Voskamp puts it in The Greatest Gift (a book that happens to be my FAVORITE Advent devotional), “When the King rules your world, you cease to rule or worry. All worry dethrones God.”

All worry dethrones God.

I agree—and I desperately want God to be on his throne in my life. But sometimes (especially in the middle of the night when “darkness seems to hide his face“), I can feel my chest start to tighten. Maybe it’s the crush-rush of the Christmas to-do list. Maybe it’s the “what-if’s” as I try to trust God with my children. Or maybe it’s just COVID again. I feel like they haven’t given us an expiration date on the symptoms; could the creak in my knees be a long-haul side effect?

I don’t know.

But what I do know is that there is a very real thief whose mission is to steal and kill and destroy—and worship is the way we counter his attacks.

A plan to praise

Emboldened by verses like Psalm 9:10 (“Those who know your name trust in you”), I’m putting Psalm 63:6 into practice:

On my bed I remember you;
I think of you through the watches of the night.

Now, when I wake up at night and my trust starts to falter, I have a plan. Instead of counting sheep, I’m calling God’s name—alphabetically. “God,” I whisper, “you are Awesome. Beautiful. You are my Comforter. Deliverer. Everlasting Father…”

(I’ve got more letters lined up—Faithful, Good, Holy—but honestly? I rarely need them. The simple practice of adoration opens the door to peace and I drift off to sleep, secure in the fact that the One who watches over me is still awake. He will neither slumber nor sleep, the Bible says.)

If you’d like to join me in Advent Adoration this year, you don’t have to stay awake in order to do it. Instead, you can draw near to God—you can come into his presence with praise—with this DIY Advent calendar. We designed it last year exclusively for our email community, and it was so well-received that we’re bringing it back.

Just print, cut, and fold

The Advent printable includes 25 cards, each one highlighting a different one of God’s character traits. They’re super easy to access—just print, cut, and fold!

Display the cards with the numbers facing out as you welcome December, and then flip them over discover a new facet of God’s nature every day. You can hang the cards on a strand of twine, prop them on a mantle, or keep them in a bedside box as a reminder of God’s lavish love.

Again, this resource is a Christmas gift for our email friend group; you won’t find the cards available elsewhere. As a current subscriber, you don’t need any special code to access the Advent printable; simply click here and follow the prompts to download. (If you have friends who’d enjoy this printable or the monthly newsletter, please encourage them to visit jodieberndt.com to subscribe and join us—everyone’s welcome!)

And as you consider each card, talk about God’s character with your children. Ask questions, even if you don’t know all the answers. For instance…

God is our COUNSELOR. Where do you need his wisdom or guidance today?
God is SOVEREIGN. How does it make you feel to know that he is in control?
God is IMMANUEL. What difference does it make to know that he is with us?

God is Immanuel…and so much more. Whatever your need, wherever you are, you can anchor your trust in God’s name. May you sense his nearness, his love, and his grace in increasing measure in the month ahead.

Now go get that turkey in the oven—and I’ll see you back here next month with a Christmas giveaway of my most-favorite resource!

Happy Thanksgiving!

❤️

P.S. Starting December 1st, I’ll be sharing these Advent attributes along with discussion prompts in my Instagram and Facebook stories. So even if you don’t want to download the calendar, you can follow along and use the daily prompts as an easy Advent devotional your whole family can enjoy!

How to rejoice (even when it’s somebody else’s big win)

02.25.2022

(This post about knowing how to rejoice with other people – to celebrate when someone else has a win – ran earlier this week over at Club31Women.com, a place where you’ll find all sorts of good things for yourself and your family. I’m sharing the message again today, partly in case you missed it but mostly because there’s no such thing as too much cheering for one another!)

“Friendship doubles our joys and divides our griefs.”

I’ve read that quote countless times over the years, starting in high school when my English teacher chalked it on the top right corner of the blackboard.

The thought made sense to me then, and it dovetailed neatly with what Paul wrote to the Romans when he explained what love should look like in everyday life: “Rejoice with those who rejoice,” he said. “Mourn with those who mourn.”

Now, some forty years removed from that English classroom, I still believe friendship—loving others well—has the power to multiply joy and divide sorrow. But I wonder why we’re so much better at the second part of Paul’s command than the first. Why do we find it easier to weep with a friend when she’s hurting than to magnify her delight when she has a win?

Maybe it’s jealousy: We want what she has.

Maybe it’s insecurity: We compare ourselves and feel like we don’t measure up.

Maybe it’s a critical spirit: We know who she is; she doesn’t deserve the blessing.

Or maybe it’s fear: We worry, somehow, that if God showers his gifts on somebody else, he won’t have enough left for us.

Whatever the reason, the Bible is full of examples of folks who loved well—who entered into each other’s joy—and those who didn’t.

Consider how Elizabeth greeted Mary, when the young mother-to-be showed up at her house. “Blessed are you among women,” she cried, “and blessed is the fruit of your womb. And why is this granted to me that the mother of my Lord should come to me?” (Luke 1:42-43) Elizabeth could have been bitter or jealous (Why had it taken her so long to conceive? Why hadn’t she been chosen to bear the Messiah?), but she wasn’t. Instead, in humility, she shared Mary’s joy, fueling the younger woman’s faith with affirmation and blessing. What a gift!

On the flip side, there’s David’s wife Michal, who stared out the window as her husband danced and celebrated when God’s ark came into the City. King David and his entourage—Israel’s elders, commanders, Levites, musicians—“went rejoicing,” Scripture says, but Michal (who found David’s conduct shameless and vulgar) “was filled with contempt.” (1 Chronicles 15:25-29)

Elizabeth became the mother of John the Baptist; Michal remained childless to the day of her death.

How do we become like Elizabeth instead of Michal? Put another way, how do we cultivate a spirit of humility—one that is quick to celebrate someone else—instead of a spirit of criticism and contempt?

How do we rejoice with those who rejoice?

First, we can anchor our identity not in who we are or what we do, but in our status as God’s beloved. God loves us—and wants to bless us—just because we are his, and an awareness of who we are in his sight can keep things like jealousy, insecurity, and fear from gaining a foothold in our lives.

Second, we can pray with expectant joy for our friends, interceding for them when they struggle and giving thanks when they succeed. (1 Thessalonians 5:16-18) Praying for someone else gives you a vested interest in their well-being and opens the door to sincere and generous love.

And finally, we can ask the Holy Spirit to help. We don’t have to worry that he’ll see our warts and our weakness; he already knows all about that and he is always praying on our behalf.

What about you? Where have you found it hard to enter into someone else’s joy? What keeps you from celebrating when a friend has a big win? Confess any jealousy, insecurity, or fears to the Lord and ask the Holy Spirit to help you anchor your identity in your status as God’s beloved.

Psalm 112:5 says, “Good will come to those who are generous and lend freely.” Let’s be generous with our love, coming alongside others in their hard times and, even more, in their rejoicing.

❤️

You can read more about joy-sharing friendships–and how to cultivate them–in Praying the Scriptures for Your Life: 31 Days of Abiding in the Presence, Provision, and Power of God.

Doing Life with Your Adult Children (Wisdom from Dr. Jim Burns)

11.13.2021

If you’ve got adult children, chances are good that you also have questions. Questions like…

When should I give advice, and when is it better to keep my mouth shut?

What’s the difference between helping and enabling?

Is it okay to let my adult children fail? What if they really blow it? What then?

Earlier this week, I had the pleasure (the fun!) of interviewing a fellow who has answers to questions like these.

Dr. Jim Burns would be the FIRST to tell you that he’s not a parenting “expert.” But with a Ph.D., a book called Doing Life with Your Adult Children, and three all-grown-up kids in his bio, Jim has both the education and the experience to weigh in on any number of tricky topics, and I loved our convo.

If you missed it and want to watch, click here.

And if all you’ve got time for is a quick highlight, I’ll recap Jim’s counsel on one of the questions I hear all the time from my own readers: What do I do when my kids make a really bad choice? How should I respond?

Because let’s be honest. Our kids will all blow it, in one way or another. They might get in trouble. They might violate our values. Or they might just do stuff that boggles our minds, like when one of my relatives tried to unclog his toilet with a cherry bomb. He dropped it in the bowl and then stood on the lid.

(I’ll wait while you just process that one for a sec.)

The consequences of poor choices can be really, um, messy. They can be hard to clean up. And the fallout might last a long time.

C.S. Lewis noted that “Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny.”

That’s a motivational thought (and one we might all agree with), but when it’s your child who’s walking through something awful–a toxic relationship, a battle with substance abuse, a pornography addiction, a rejection of faith–it can be heartbreaking. It is heartbreaking. And as parents, we can find ourselves flooded with doubt.

Was it something I did?

Should we have prayed more, as a family? Gone on mission trips instead of vacations?

Would this have happened if my marriage hadn’t failed?

The what-ifs, Jim says, can paralyze our souls and crush our confidence. But as I’ve said in this space before, our ability to ruin our kids is nothing compared to God’s power (and his desire) to redeem them. And as Jim writes in his book, “Your child’s regrettable decisions do not make you a bad parent. Even good parents have children who make poor choices.”

So what do we do, moving forward? How can we love our kids well, even when we don’t love the choices they make?

Jim made lots of good points in our talk (and you’ll find even more in his book), but here are three of my top takeaways:

For starters, don’t bail your kids out. Their crisis doesn’t need to be your crisis, and when you repeatedly step in to “save” them, you might unintentionally block the path to healing and wholeness. “If you take on the consequences your child should be experiencing,” Jim says, “you are robbing them of an opportunity for growth and change.”

Next, don’t be a one-topic parent. Our adult children already know how we feel about the choices they’ve made; instead of harping on whatever it is that is breaking your heart, talk about other things. Engage your child the way you’d talk with a friend. Talk with them, not at them. Ask open-ended questions about issues where you might not know all the answers, and listen more than you speak.

And finally, relinquish your kids to God’s care. This one is seldom easy, but it’s super important. We can’t fix our kids, but we can make the deliberate choice to entrust them to a God who knows them, and loves them, even more than we do. We can pray the same prayer that Jim does every day: “God, I release my children to your loving care and tender mercies.”

All of these things–the tough love, the grace-filled conversations, the surrendering of our kids to God’s care–can create a climate where healing and growth can take place, one in which relationships flourish.

Which, at the end of the day, is what matters. Because the number one thing our adult kids want to know isn’t what we think of their choices or what we wish they would do. The number one thing they are asking is this: “Do you still love me?”

Do you still love me.

Is that what the prodigal son in Luke’s gospel wanted to know? He certainly didn’t feel worthy of love. He knew he’d made a mess of his life. He did not expect to be welcomed with open arms.

And yet that’s how his father–our Father–received him.

We can do the same thing. We can love our adult children, even when we don’t love the choices they make. We can ask God to bless and protect them, even as we ask him–and trust him–to work on their hearts. And we can be ready, with arms open wide, to welcome them when they come home

“Do you still love me?”

We know, even when our hearts break in a million pieces, that the answer is always yes.

❤️

If you’d like some specific ways to pray for your adult children’s needs–whether it’s a marriage concern, a crippling addiction, or they’re just in a lonely place where you want God to bless them with friends–you’ll find encouraging stories and hundreds of prayer prompts in my book, Praying the Scriptures for Your Adult Children.

And if you’d like to hear more from Dr. Jim Burns, check out his book (which, I must say, has one of the best subtitles I’ve ever seen): Doing Life with Your Adult Children: Keep Your Mouth Shut and the Welcome Mat Out.

(As always, I only recommend books here that I truly love, and f you purchase via a link in the post, I make a tiny commission…for which I am grateful.)

Be Expectant: Four Things to Help You Wait Well

10.15.2021

Note: With back-to-back weddings and the impending arrival of our second grandchild, I haven’t been writing too much, but earlier this week I shared some thoughts about WAITING over at Club31Women, a place where you’ll find encouragement for all things faith, home, and family. I’m re-sharing that post here, along with the (spoiler alert!) announcement that baby Grayson is here! Grayson’s arrival is a long-awaited blessing…and we are SO HAPPY we could BUST.

(And yes. I have pix. Scroll to the end if you want to see!)

Be Expectant: Four Things to Help You Wait Well

As I write this, my daughter is 39 weeks pregnant, awaiting the arrival of her first child. A son. I can’t wait to meet him. To see his face. To know his name!

I am expectant.

I wish I could say I felt the same way during every waiting season. To me, waiting usually conjures images of unmet longings and disappointing circumstances: The dating relationship that was supposed to lead to marriage but hasn’t. The job promotion that never materialized. The gap between homesick and happy in a new place. The toddler who won’t sleep through the night. The sickness—physical or emotional—that just won’t go away. The womb that stays closed.

Waiting feels like it’s not so much about anticipation as it is endurance. And given that the word patience is derived from the Latin word for suffering, it comes as no surprise that when the Bible exhorts us to “wait for the Lord,” the very next words are,

“Be strong, and let your heart take courage.” (Psalm 27:14)

Be strong and take courage. Those words seem more suited to an epic adventure than to a long holding pattern; it’s like the psalmist knows that waiting on God will tap (and maybe even exhaust) our deepest fuel reserves.

And it can be easy in the face of delayed provision or unanswered prayers to grow weary and want to give up. Particularly when we’re asking God for something we know is good—the salvation of a loved one, reconciliation or forgiveness among family members, freedom from a crippling addiction—and it doesn’t look like the needle is moving. That can be confusing.

Frustrating. Faith-shaking, even.

Maybe God has some secret reason for withholding an answer, we think to ourselves, and the most pious thing we could do would be to just quit. To stop praying. To pack up our trust and go home.

But let’s don’t.

Instead, let’s take the long view, believing Jesus when he says that his Father is always at work, even when we can’t see what he’s doing. (John 5:17) And as we wait on God’s answer or his provision, I can think of at least four things that might help.

What Happens While We Wait

First, consider what might be happening while we wait.

God could be teaching us perseverance—the trait that makes us mature and complete. (James 1:3-4)

He might be testing and purifying our faith—not for his benefit, but to prove to us that what we have is both strong and real. (1 Peter 1:6-7)

Or he might be giving us an opportunity to hone our request so that our desire lines up with his (better) plan. (Matthew 26:42)

We don’t know what God might be doing, but even the waiting season itself can make the eventual answer extra sweet. How much more grateful are we for a blessing that arrives after a long prayer battle than we are for the one that just shows up on our doorstep as if delivered by Amazon Prime?

God’s Faithfulness While We Wait

Second, reflect on the ways God’s faithfulness has already presented itself.

Taking time to consider God’s past provision equips us to be strong and take heart for the future. If you don’t already make a practice of thanking God for what he has done, grab a journal (a spiral notebook will do) and start keeping a record. Aim for just two or three notes every day and build your collection—your “faithfulness altar”—from there.

Spend Time in God’s Word

Third, make time to meet God in his Word. Spend time reading the Bible, allowing it to shape your perspective. The more we fill our minds with Scripture, the more our thoughts and desires begin to line up with what God wants to do.

What he already is doing.

Pray in the Waiting

And finally, pray.

God longs to show us his goodness and draw us into deeper communion with him. Ask the Holy Spirit to help you wait well. Ask him to open your eyes to the purposes God may want to accomplish. And ask him to equip you to trust God’s timing, knowing that he is able to do “immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine.” (Ephesians 3:20 NIV)

Lamentations 3: 25 says, “The Lord is good to those who wait for him.”

Let’s be expectant.

❤️

Welcome home, Baby Grayson. We’ve been waiting for you. 💙

Summer Reading: What’s in YOUR beach bag?

08.13.2021

Four years ago, I fixed a cup of coffee, grabbed what was then a brand new copy of Unseen by Sara Hagerty, and headed out to the beach for some summer reading.

I opened the book and read about Sara’s post-college passion to “change the world for God” and how her escalating effort to get the job done (and earn the approval of others) left her empty.

I read about her career in sales and how, in the midst of presentations and spreadsheets and challenging co-workers, she found herself craving more.

I read about how, as a young mom, Sara tried to make a difference in her family amid piles of laundry, endless meal prep, and bickering kids in the backseat…and how, through it all, she looked for the TINIEST SIGN that what she was doing mattered.

And I read about how God saw her in those hidden seasons, those hard-to-measure “middle minutes”…and how Sara saw him, too. How she found herself drawn by God’s gentle expression. By his open stance. By the lines on his face.

The lines on God’s face.

Can you imagine? That image – that one little line, hinting at indescribable closeness with God – just undid me.

Five hours later I finished the book. Unseen: The Gift of Being Hidden in a World that Loves to be Noticed remains one of my favorite summer reading picks. I’m savoring it again this year as I take a blog break, and if it sounds like something you think you might like, check out this sample chapter…

“Why this waste?”

(Excerpted from Unseen by Sara Hagerty)

I’d been in a suit and heels since 5:00 a.m., and after a full morning, I was at the airport for an early afternoon flight home—home to a husband, but no children.

I’d recently started to crave more. I wanted more from my sales support job. I wasn’t tired of doing it or even tired of the desk work and the travel, but I was tired of working for little more than sales goals and a paycheck. I wanted more than productivity and success. I wanted brushes with God and meaning and almost anything that mattered but wasn’t easily measured.

My work for the day was done and I was tired, but my heart was hungry, and I was beginning to like heart hunger. So I prayed: God, I want to meet with You in this airport.

Meeting Him required quieting my insides enough to hear and respond. The kind of dialogue I was learning to have with God burgeoned when I saw it as an exchange—my mind for His thoughts, my fear for His assurance, my whispers for His response. As I made my way to a restaurant near my gate, I noticed an elderly gentleman who was being pushed in a wheelchair. I prayed for God to breathe life and strength into his frail body. I saw a man running as fast as my mind usually worked, and I prayed his racing heart would come to know Jesus. I saw a young woman with vacant eyes, and I prayed she would find the filling her heart most needed. I realized afresh that the people all around me weren’t merely interesting. They were God-created. I wanted to talk to Him about what He had made.

God, what do You see in the man who is late for his flight? And the one in the wheelchair—how do You see the heart buried underneath that broken body? Rather than looking at people as faces among the masses, I asked for His eyes for them and responded with minute-long prayers: God, I want to meet You in this airport.

No one knew this conversation I was having in my head with God. And I was starting to like these secret exchanges.

At the restaurant, I grabbed the last available seat at the bar, which was full of day travelers with carry-ons. As I scooted up onto my stool and glanced at the laminated menu, I noticed the gentleman sitting next to me. He looked to be near retirement, but he was dressed for business. I was drawn to him in the way you’re drawn to someone who is not at all like you, but with whom you feel a strange connection.

Maybe I’m supposed to share the gospel with this man, I thought. I ordered my food and opened my book, trying to concentrate on reading while staying aware of what felt like a nudge from God.

Ten minutes later when the waitress brought out my order along with that of the man next to me, I noticed that we both had ordered the same meal. I awkwardly mumbled a comment about it, looking for a way to begin a conversation. But my voice, perhaps too quiet from nerves, got lost in a salvo of loudspeaker announcements. He hadn’t heard me. I went back to my book, resigned that I’d misread God’s cues.

The book I was reading explored the concept of abiding in the vine from John 15. The author used the notion of tree grafting to illustrate this abiding. After hours of client presentations on throbbing feet, my mind couldn’t absorb the words. I read and reread the same paragraph, but without comprehension. And then this prompt dropped into my mind: Ask the man sitting next to you to explain it.

Uh-oh, I thought.

As much as I wanted to hear from God, I knew that we humans sometimes mishear Him and mistake our mental wanderings for His voice. What should I do? Talk to the man and risk awkwardness and embarrassment? Or not talk to him and risk missing what might well be God’s answer to my prayer to meet with Him in this airport?

Well, at least I’ll never see this guy again, I thought. So I went for it.

“Sir, excuse me,” I said, much louder this time, almost shouting to compensate for my nerves.

He startled. “Yes?” he said, raising his eyebrows like the authoritative boss of a fresh college grad.

“Do you know anything about grafting?” I coughed out.

“What?” he asked.

Oh no. I had to say it again. This business exec didn’t even seem to know what the word meant.

“Grafting, sir. Do you know anything about grafting?” My face was red hot.

“It’s funny you should ask,” he said. I noticed tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.

My heart started racing.

“I majored in agriculture in college and I minored in grafting. I run a farm equipment business but have gotten away from what I once loved.”

Now I was sure I could actually hear my heart, not just feel the pounding.

He stretched back on his stool, took off his glasses, and rubbed his eyes. Then he enthusiastically explained the details of how the branch of one tree is grafted into another as if he were telling me a page-turning story. I showed him the paragraph in my book and asked him questions. He made it all so clear.

I’m not sure if I was more surprised that the prompt to talk to this man really was from God, or that God was personal enough to meet me at an airport barstool. Apparently, God was meeting this man too, right over his hamburger and French fries. He thanked me after our exchange as if he’d been reminded of his boyish love for trees and for grafting, a love that needed rediscovering.

Twelve years later, this conversation remains my most memorable business trip. Still. I can’t remember where I’d gone or even who I met with on that trip. I remember it only because I’d felt seen and heard by God.

God showed up when I was in my suit and heels, and He winked. We shared a secret. During those days of client presentations, excel spreadsheets, and conference calls, He was whispering, I want to meet with you, here. What I might once have considered a waste of time—conversation with Him in the midst of a demanding day—became, instead, food for my hungry heart. It was a gift of hiddenness during a season when my work required me to be on during the workday.

God’s currency is communion—a relationship that grows, nearer still. A relationship that is cultivated when no one else is looking. A relationship accessed not just when we feel we need His help but at all the odd times that punctuate our agenda-driven days. A depth of relationship that feeds the recipient in the way that productivity and accomplishment just cannot.

What a waste. What a beautiful waste.

❤️

What’s in YOUR beach bag? If your summer reading has featured something special, I’d love to hear about it. Drop a comment on my Instagram feed if you want to share!

Hearing God’s Voice in a Noisy World

06.11.2021

(Note: This post about Hearing God’s Voice ran earlier this week over at Club31Women. If this topic is of interest to you, you’ll find a deeper discussion, along with some questions for reflection and prayers you can pray, in my new book, Praying the Scriptures for Your Life.)

“How,” my six-year-old daughter Annesley wanted to know, “can you tell if it’s God speaking to you, or if it’s just your own voice in your head?”

A fair question, and one that many grown-ups might be asking today. And my answer, I thought, started well.

“For one thing,” I said, “God’s voice will never contradict Scripture.”

Annesley looked a bit blank, so I plowed ahead (and here’s where things got a bit dicey). “Like, the Bible says things like ‘Thou shalt not kill’ and ‘Honor your father and your mother.’ So if you ever feel like God is telling you to kill your mother, you can be sure that this isn’t his voice.”

(Okay, okay. I’d just had four kids in six years. I was not at the top of my intellectual game.)

“Kill your mother?” Annesley repeated, incredulous (which I took as a good sign.) But then she folded her arms and gave it some thought.

“If that was God,” she finally concluded, “he’d have to have a pretty good reason.”

Anyhow.

I know my example may not be the most appropriate one, but it’s theologically true. When God tells us something, it will never run counter to what he says in the Bible. That’s one sure way we can check to test whether the voice we are hearing is his.

Another plumb line is that God may convict or correct us, but he never condemns. You know that inner voice that says, “You’re pathetic… You stink… Shame on you”? Yeah. That one. That one is not God. That’s our enemy, the accuser. Also known as the father of lies.

Don’t listen.

Listen, instead, for encouraging words. Words that build you up and prepare you to live a purpose-filled life. God’s voice is like his written Word, “useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training” so that we “may be thoroughly equipped for every good work.” (2 Timothy 3:16-17)

And finally, God’s voice is never scattered or frantic, and it’s rarely loud. It may even come as a whisper. And it may take a while to discern. Moses knew the value of seeking God’s counsel before plowing ahead. “Wait,” he said to a group of ceremonially unclean Israelites who were eager to celebrate the Passover, “until I find out what the Lord commands concerning you.” (Numbers 9:8)

These three signs—consistency with Scripture, convicting rather than condemning, and focused rather than frantic—are hallmarks of God’s voice. There are others, of course. But the main thing to remember (and this whole concept kind of undoes me) is that God wants to be in conversation with us.

He longs to reveal himself. To give us direction. To bend down, incline his ear, and talk with us—as he did with Moses—“as one speaks to a friend.” (See Psalm 116:2 and Exodus 33:11)

What a privilege we have as believers to be able to enter into conversation with Almighty God.

Is there a decision you’re currently facing? A situation where you need to know how to respond? A place where you long to experience unshakable peace, instead of worrying that you might do the wrong thing?

Meditate on the incredible opportunity you have to talk things over with God. Ask him to provide the direction you need. Pay attention to anything the Holy Spirit whispers to your heart as you listen for God’s voice, and allow his word—as revealed in the pages of Scripture—to shape your perspective and show you what to do.

Here’s a simple, but powerful, prayer you can pray:

Heavenly Father,

Teach me what is best, direct me in the way I should go, and help me pay attention to your commands so I will experience your peace. (Isaiah 48:17-18)

Amen

Sneak Peek! (and last chance to preorder)

06.04.2021

Praying the Scriptures for Your Life releases NEXT WEEK! Here’s a sneak peek just for YOU, my email friends – and I’m sending this note this with a heart FULL of gratitude for all the ways you’ve encouraged me throughout the writing process.

The book has two parts.

Part One is called “An Invitation to Abide.” It’s a big-picture look at what connection to Christ looks like in real life, and how we can become people of impact as we allow God’s Word to give shape to our desires and our prayers.

Part Two is more nitty-gritty. That’s where we dig into 31 different topics (one for each day of the month, if that pace appeals) where we need to experience God’s power and provision. Things like loving hard people. Extending forgiveness. Praying for our marriage or our children. Hearing God’s voice. Using talents, time, and money wisely. Waiting on God. Aging well. Dealing with the pain of unanswered prayers.

You get the idea. If it matters to you, it matters to God – and his Word has us covered.

Each chapter starts with a story, winds its way through some Scripture, and wraps up with three “R’s” designed to strengthen our connection with Christ: Read, Reflect, and Remember.

Read highlights a few verses that equip us to trust God with the topic at hand. Day 14, for example, is about Finding Freedom from Worry and Fear. Psalm 57:3, Philippians 4:6-7, and Matthew 6:31-33 are three faith-building promises that can help shape our understanding:

Next, the Reflect section invites us to go a bit deeper and apply God’s promises to our particular and specific circumstances, with reminders like this:

“Whatever this situation is, it has not taken him by surprise. Consider the fact that God may be cluing you in to a problem or need, not to get you to panic, but to invite you to pray.”

And finally, the Respond pages offer a collection of Scripture-based prayers like this one:

Thank you that you know my needs. When I am tempted to worry about ____, help me replace fear with faith. Show me how to seek you above all else, trusting your promise to give me all that I need. (Matthew 6:32-33)

You can pray all the verses right then and there, or pick just one or two to return to throughout the day. (Or the week. Or the month, if that’s more your style. This book is a resource, not a ritual. 😉)

So there’s your sneak peek. I hope you’ll like this one as much as I do, and that you’ll join me in allowing God’s Word to transform your desires and give power to your prayers. You were made—you were chosen!—for this.

“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you so that you might go and bear fruit—fruit that will last—and so that whatever you ask in my name the Father will give you.” (John 15:16)

❤️

P.S. Release Day is June 8th…which means there’s still time to pre-order…which means you can still access all the fun bonus content like the “Five for Five” five-minute video devotions and the mini-conversations on prayer. Details at JodieBerndt.com. Whoop!

Nothing is Impossible with God

01.01.2021

For the word of God will never fail.

I read those words–a line from Luke’s gospel–and stopped. I’d been making my way through Ann Voskamp’s The Greatest Gift, and when she got to the part about Mary and the angelic visit, a story recorded in Luke 1, I thought there must be some mistake. I knew Luke 1:37 (it was the first verse our son ever learned) and that definitely was not it. The verse I knew, and the one Robbie memorized as a preschooler, went like this: “For nothing is impossible with God.”

Could I be remembering wrong? (Maybe don’t answer that.)

I flipped open my Bible–an old NIV–and sure enough, that’s what Luke 1:37 says: “Nothing is impossible with God.”

Well then.

Could Ann Voskamp be wrong? I didn’t think so.

Curiosity piqued, I decided to dig. A quick search on Bible Hub unearthed 30 different versions of the same verse:

The NIV (which was updated in 2011) says: “For no word from God will ever fail.”

In the NLT (which The Greatest Gift uses) it is almost the same: “For the word of God will never fail.”

But the ESV renders the verse the way I remembered: “For nothing will be impossible with God.”

A Colossal Linguistic Mistake?

How, I wondered, could the translators come up with such different wordings? Was this some sort of colossal linguistic mistake? Surely some Bible Brainiac would have noticed this whoopsie before.

(Okay, so I realize that comparing Bible translations doesn’t quicken everyone’s pulse, but stick with me here. We’re getting ready to pivot.)

As I pondered the contrast in meanings—some versions emphasizing the dependability of God’s word; others focusing on his power to do anything—it hit me: The different versions were not in conflict at all. Rather, they were two sides of the same coin.

Nothing is impossible with God because his word gets the job done.

Now, you won’t find that particular rendering in any translation, but you get my point: God’s word does not fail. It makes anything possible.

My favorite illustration of what this looks like in real life (and if you’ve been around this blog for a while, you’ve heard this one before) is when God said, “Let there be light.” Had you or I issued such a decree, we’d have to flip a switch or light a match or do something to scatter the darkness. But not God. All God had to do was speak and light happened.

God’s word makes things happen. Which is why I love wrapping my prayers in the language of Scripture, allowing the Bible–God’s written word–to shape my thoughts and desires. I want to tap into the full scope of Luke 1:37, knowing that nothing is impossible with God and that his word will not fail. I want to have a heart like Mary’s, who responded to the angel’s seemingly impossible news in Luke 1 with these words: “I am the Lord’s servant. May your word to me be fulfilled.”

31 Days of Praying God’s Word

I’ve never been much of a New Year’s resolution person, but I can’t think of a more powerful or satisfying way to kick off 2021 than to spend the first month praying like Mary did–asking God to fulfill his word in the lives of the people I love. And if that appeals to you too, I’d like to invite you to join me in January for 31 Days of Prayer, Mary-style.

As Ann Voskamp tells it, Mary kneels “not as a woman producing, performing, or perfecting but simply bending before a God who has all the power to dispatch angels, enfold himself in embryonic cells, choreograph the paths of stars–a God who quietly beckons every man, every woman to simply come, bend, make a space, receive.”

Our Heavenly Father has the power to do the impossible—whether the need is in relationships, character traits, health concerns, faith issues, or anything else—and his word will not fail. All we need to do is simply bend before him and receive.

As you read your Bible this month (or this year), be alert to verses that might serve as prayer prompts. If you’d like help with the picking, you can download a 31-Day Prayer Calendar here, or join me over on Instagram or Facebook, where I’ll be sharing a new verse every day in my Stories, something to help us pray for our children or for anyone who’s claimed some space in our hearts.

Today’s prayer is for a loved one’s salvation…

Heavenly Father,

Turn _____ from darkness to light…that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among your people, those set apart by faith. (Acts 26:18)

Amen

❤️

P.S. If you’re looking for some more good prayer prompts for your kids (or grandkids!), this post from my pal Susan Alexander Yates reveals three crucial things we can ask God to do in their lives.

And if you’d like a place to record your scripture prayers–as well as God’s answers–this year, I want to remind you about my most favorite prayer and planning journal, The Growth Book.

The Growth Book comes with space to record goals, prayers, memory verses, and more. This year, I ordered the bonus pack of “Study Deeper” stickers to help keep me organized as I learn about different topics. And I went ahead and printed some pix of our crew to tuck into the pages of the journal and serve as prayer prompts:

If you want a Growth Book for yourself or a friend, use the promo code “growingin2021” (exclusive to JodieBerndt.com readers!) to get 10% off. I don’t make a commission on sales; I just love sharing my favorite things. 😊

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

A Healthcare Worker’s Take on COVID-19

03.27.2020

I know it’s not polite to read other people’s mail. But when I got this letter from Emily, a precious young healthcare worker, I asked if I could share it with you. Emily is a family nurse practitioner who’s served in some of the world’s neediest places, most recently in Bangladesh with Rohingya refugees. Today she’s working in a COVID-19 isolation unit at one of our nation’s largest public hospitals.

I hope you’ll find Emily’s words as encouraging as I did, and that you’ll join me in praying for her – and for her co-workers and their patients – in the days ahead.

Dear Friend,

What a week. It’s been nearly impossible to keep from being overwhelmed by the onslaught of statistics, restrictions, and realities of the coronavirus over the last several days. However, I spent some time with the Lord today and was so encouraged by what He said that I thought I’d share it with you, in hopes that you too will feel empowered and purposeful in this wild season. 🙂

God can take what is evil and use it for good

When asking the Lord this morning about the current coronavirus situation, He first reminded me of Who He Is. Though many things are uncertain, He is certain. Though so much is unknown, He is known. Though this virus is strong, He is stronger. Though the information and situation are changing rapidly, He never changes. Though the spreading of coronavirus seems out of control, He never loses control. Though we are separated from our friends and loved ones, His love can never be separated from us. Though the enemy intends this virus for evil, the King of Kings can turn it for our good and for His glory.

Our Father reminded me of His heart to heal, and that He loves to give good gifts to His children. He reminded me that He is always moving, always working, always speaking, always looking for people who are vessels willing to receive what heaven wants to bring to earth. He reminded me that we have not because we ask not, and that He loves to be generous and lavish blessings upon us.

He reminded me that my circumstances are not a reflection of His faithfulness, nor a measure of His goodness. He reminded me that He hates to see His creation suffer, and that He longs to bring restoration and redemption to His children.

But what can we do?

Being reminded of these things, an urgent question arose inside of me, one that I think many of us have been asking in this time of quarantine and separation:

“What can we do? What should we do, Lord?” I asked Him.

I have always felt the need to DO. I am a doer at heart, and if you’re anything like me, the idea of being unproductive is terrifying. Thus, the recent “in-home sheltering” and restrictions on work AND on gathering with people have rendered me feeling somewhat worthless over the last week. This forced separation and new space has felt disempowering instead of energizing, and I have felt restless inside, wondering what I can possibly do to help.

So I asked Him again, “What can I do, Papa? What is on your heart for me to do?”

In the stillness, the Spirit replied, “Rest, My child. Rest in Me.”

I was struck by this instruction. “Really????? When the whole world seems to be coming undone, You just want me to REST?? That’s all?? There’s got to be something more helpful for me to do!!!!”

The Spirit then explained, “How can you receive the healing and hope and restoration that I have for My people when you are frenzied and focused on what you can do? This is not about you. Instead, focus on what I can do, and on receiving what I have to give. I have sooo much to give. I am looking for those who are willing to stop, to sit in My presence, and to receive. Not those who are desperate to do on their own. My child, in your desperation to feel productive, you let frenzy and fear overtake your heart and mind, and you miss this opportunity to be with Me. The secret to this season is to enter the rest I have for you, not to try and do.

Then Holy Spirit reminded me of this verse: “For thus says the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel, ‘In returning and rest you shall be saved; in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.” -Isaiah 30:15

God wants to do more than “flatten the curve”

What a perspective shift. The desire of the Lord for me today is to return to Him and rest in His Presence. In the quietness of my room, He wants to renew my trust, which will strengthen me for the days ahead. He is mighty to save, eager to love, and always intervening… it is up to me to posture myself at the foot of His throne and rest in order to receive what He has. And we can know with confidence that what He has to give is better than anything the world has to offer in this time. He has things to give us that will do so much more than just “flatten the curve” or “stop the spread”….He has gifts to give that include everlasting hope, miraculous healing, and unending love. He wants to save our world not just from the coronavirus, but from an eternity without Him. And we, as His people, get to be a part of this restoration and redemption…if we are willing to rest.

In a place of rest, we will find ourselves in His Presence, connected to His heart. In being connected to His heart, we will actually be able to hear the voice of Our Good Shepherd… and then we can receive His wisdom and His power as He faithfully leads us through the treacherous paths ahead.

In a place of rest, we also are at the end of ourselves; we are surrendered at His feet, letting go of all we think and all we want to do because we realize that His ways are higher and better than ours. When we choose to rest, we will finally be available to do the work that He has for us, which will undoubtedly be more impactful and helpful than anything we can do on our own.

Just Say Yes

So, dear friends, the invitation from the Holy Spirit stands waiting for you and me both: will we rest? Are we willing to let go of our fears and uncertainty and instead grab onto the hands of Perfect Peace Himself? Are we willing to push through the temptations to make to-do lists and curate feelings of usefulness, and instead sit patiently in the stillness and quietness? Are we willing to humble ourselves at the foot of the throne, to worship Him as we wait, thanking Him now for the miracles we have yet to see?

If our answer is yes, then I believe we will see more healing and more courage and more strength in the body of Christ than ever before. If we say yes, we have the privilege of not only finding rest for our souls, but being a part of bringing that rest to those around us. If we say yes to rest, we can be more in love with our King and more empowered to receive the kingdom.

I pray that together we can say, “Yes, Lord. Yes to Your rest. Yes to Your Promises. Yes to Your Love. Yes—may Your kingdom come, may Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” May we say “yes” to what the Lord has for us in this moment, for we were made for such a time as this.

❤️

Will you join me today in a prayer for Emily, and for all the healthcare workers who find themselves on the front lines?

Heavenly Father,

Spread your protection over our doctors, nurses, and everyone in the healthcare field. Surround them with your favor as with a shield. Protect them from worry and fear; may your peace stand guard over their hearts and their minds. Take what was intended for harm and use it for good, to accomplish what is now being done: The saving of many lives. (Psalm 5:11-12; Philippians 4:6-7; Genesis 50:20)

And may all who are weary and burdened come to you, learn from you, and find rest for our souls. (Matthew 11:28-29)

Amen

God knows what we need, so why pray?

02.21.2020

God knows what we need even before we ask him. So…why should we pray?

The short answer, of course, is “Because I said so.” As in, we pray because God tells us to. (See, for instance, Philippians 4:6, Matthew 7:7, and 1 Thessalonians 5:17 .)

But there’s more to the question – and the answer – than that. And as I was thinking about it this week, I remembered a post I wrote years ago, one where I shared a picture of a poster my father gave me, wall art that I hung in my high school bedroom, and then my college dorm room, and which I still have today:

Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

God knows what you need

I know my dad meant for the message (which is a quote from Jesus, in Matthew 6:8) to point to my Heavenly Father, but I felt like it applied to him, too. Dad usually did know just what I needed, and he was always quick to provide an encouraging word, a sound bit of advice, or even, sometimes, a gift.

Sometimes, it was a gift that I didn’t think that I needed:

And other times, it was something I was sure that I did. Like when my father gave me an introduction to Jesus.

You can read the longer version of that story in the earlier post; the nutshell report is that Dad (who’d been a Sunday school teacher, a rec-league coach, and every other decent thing that a person could be) was stunned to discover that the Christian life wasn’t about trying to be “good”. But when he explained the whole sin-and-grace thing to me, it made perfect sense.

(I was eight, at the time. I knew I was a sinner. And I was super grateful for grace.)

My dad would have celebrated his 81st birthday this week. I’ve written about his battle with brain cancer in this space before, and I’ve shared how much I miss him, even after 20 years. There have been so many times in my own parenting journey when I’ve wished, more than anything, that I could have him around. Times when I’d love to seek his advice. To ask him to pray. Or to just see his smile.

Today, when I hear people wonder why we should pray (“I trust God to do what’s best for my family,” was how one man put it, when he told me that he didn’t pray), I often think of my dad. And how, even though I knew that he knew what I needed, I’d still ask him for stuff–whether I wanted a new dress, a dose of wisdom, or the car keys. After all, he was my dad.

Which is, I believe, why God wants us to pray.

Prayer signals relationship

At its most basic level, prayer signals relationship. John Wesley said, “God does nothing but in answer to prayer.” That’s a claim that the Bible reinforces. God could do stuff on his own – heal this person here, make it rain there – and sometimes it seems like he does. Far more often, though, we see him waiting on people, engaging with people, getting to know people – and then meeting their needs – through their prayers.

Prayer acknowledges our dependence on God. It’s a way of saying, “You’re God, and I’m not.” And whether we’re talking to God because we need a healing or some other tangible blessing, or we want guidance for life, or we just like to hang out in his presence, the ultimate effect of our prayers is to draw us closer to him. “God works through the prayer process,” wrote Jennifer Kennedy Dean, “to expand our vision, to deepen our hunger, to stretch our faith, and to lift our desires higher. We start the process desiring something from him; we end it desiring only him.”

All of which is to say yes, God does know what we need, even before we ask him.

But he still wants us to ask.

And this week, as I’ve found myself missing my dad, I’m more grateful than ever to have had an earthly father who pointed me toward my Heavenly Father. He is the One who loves us enough, and is powerful enough, to do more than all we could ever ask or imagine. He is the One who loves it when we pray.

Heavenly Father,

I know that every good gift comes from you, that you know my needs, and that you are able to do immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine. (James 1:17, Matthew 6:8, Ephesians 3:20).

Today, I ask you to ___________.

Amen.

The Most Life-Changing Habit for the New Year

01.10.2020

Note: This post appeared earlier this week on Club31Women. They’re featuring a “Fresh Start” series in January, with tips on everything from organizing your home (yes, please!), to meal-planning and parenting helps, to a 100-Day “Love You Better” Marriage Challenge in the New Year. Good stuff, all around!

The Most Life-Changing Habit for the New Year

Which habit do you want to carry into the next year?

We were three hours into a family car trip during the Christmas holidays when my daughter pulled that card out of the box. It was a good question. Looking ahead to 2020, which habit would I choose to continue?

My mind cataloged all the usual suspects: Exercise. Organization. Healthy eating. Financial fitness. I’d made small gains in each of these areas in 2019, and I knew I wanted to keep honing those habits. None of them, though, felt particularly dynamic or productive, at least not in a life-shaping way. I kept thinking.

And I remembered a line from Rick Warren’s The Purpose Driven Life:

“No other habit,” Warren wrote, “can do more to transform your life and make you more like Jesus than daily reflections on Scripture.”

Daily Reflections on Scripture

Daily reflections on Scripture. That was it. That was the single most valuable habit I wanted to carry into the new year. I don’t just want to read my Bible; I want to reflect it. To examine it. And to let it examine me – shaping my thoughts, my actions, and my conversations – so that my life dovetails with God’s designs, and so that my prayers line up with his purpose.

Which is, I think, what Jesus was getting at in John 15:7, when he made one of the most jaw-dropping statements in the Bible. “If you abide in me and my words abide in you,” he said, “ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” Put another way, what this promise means is that the more we allow Scripture to penetrate our hearts and our minds – pruning out the bad stuff and breathing life into what’s good – the more our desires (and our prayers) will reflect what God is already planning to do.

I can’t think of a better jumping-off place for 2020 than that.

And honestly? All of those other good habits and resolutions – from taking care of our bodies to managing money wisely – find their inspiration in Scripture. There is not a need we will face, a goal we can set, or a healthy discipline that we can practice that God has not already thought of, and provided for, in his word.

Effective time management? “Teach us to number our days so that we may get a heart of wisdom.” (Psalm 90:12)

Dealing with things like worry and fear? “Let us not be anxious or afraid, but instead cast our anxieties on you, knowing that you care for us.” (1 Peter 5:7)

Increasing your giving, or your kindness toward others? “Prompt us to do good, to be rich in good works, to be generous and ready to share.” (1 Timothy 6:18)

Those are just a few of the life-shaping prayer prompts we find in the Bible; there are countless more to discover. And the best part? The best part of Christ’s John 15:7 promise isn’t just the fact that we can ask for whatever we want. The best part is that when we take God up on his invitation – abiding in him, and letting his words abide in us – we get to live out John 15:8: We bring glory to God. We become productive, fruit-bearing people. And we discover the security of knowing that we are Christ’s disciples, that we belong.

31-Day Prayer Habit

If you like the idea of reflecting on Scripture each day – of allowing God’s word to shape your perspective, as well as your prayers – can I invite you to join me in a 31-Day Prayer Challenge? Let’s kick off the new year by looking at the Bible not just as something to read, but as something to pray. Let’s allow the words that we read – words first spoken by God – to animate our conversations with him.

Any passage will do (because again, Scripture is full of transformational promises, principles, and prayer prompts), but if you’d like some help getting started, you can download a printable 31-day calendar here.

There’s a different verse for each day of the month, with topics ranging from relationship needs, to character qualities, to ways to develop and strengthen your faith. Pray through each day’s verse slowly, out loud if you can. And whether you’re praying for a family member, a friend, or yourself, try to return to the prayer several times during the day so that God’s word will take root and give birth to hope in your heart.

“My word,” God promises in Isaiah 55:11, “shall not return empty, but it shall accomplish that which I purpose.”

So which habit will you carry into the new year? I hope you’ll join me in letting the power of God’s word accomplish his very best plans in 2020, both in your life and in the lives of the people you love.

Heavenly Father,

May we delight in your word, meditating on it day and night, so that we will yield fruit in season and prosper in all that we do. (Psalm 1:1-3)

Amen

And P.S., if you want to know where we got the question game for our car trip, it was a tip from my son-in-law, Charlie, who saw it advertised on Instagram and thought, “That looks like a Berndt thing.” He was right. We loved it. And if you want your own game, you can order it here.

(There’s also a set designed just for couples…which Charlie got in his stocking this year. #Mother-in-Law Goals.) 😊

(I only recommend books and other products I really like on this site, and if you order via a link that I share, Amazon sends me a small commission…which, as you know, I almost always spend on more books so I can share the really good ones with you!)

Life-Giving Friendships (and three ways to spot ’em)

10.04.2019

Robbie and I will be driving home at night and we’ll pass a house that’s all lit up, with cars spilling down the driveway and out into the street.

“Look…” I will say. “Go slow. They’re having a party…”

“Looks that way,” Robbie will say.

“But…they didn’t invite us,” I will say.

“Jodie,” Robbie will say, looking sideways at me. “We don’t know the people who live in that house.”

“I know,” I will sigh. “But we could know them. And I bet they would like us…”

I may be an extreme (and slightly pathetic) example, but I know I am not alone in my desire to have friends. This longing to belong – this desire for connection – goes back to the beginning of time. Remember what God said when he created Adam?

It is not good for man to be alone.

Roger that. Woman either.

And it’s not just the Creation story that says we need one another; science maintains that we’re actually wired that way. Matthew Lieberman (a leading brainiac in social neuroscience) says, “Love and belonging might seem like a convenience we can do without, but our biology is built to thirst for connection because it is linked to our most basic survival needs.”

(Translation: We need friends every bit as much as we need water and shelter. And chocolate.)

The thing is, though, not just any connection will do. Two weeks ago, I shared a post about the plusses of aging, one of which is the joy that can come with intergenerational friendships, particularly when they are the “life-giving” kind. Today, I want to explore what that sort of connection looks like. I want to look at the friendship that Mary and Elizabeth shared.

(And just a heads up: This post is shaping up to be a little longer than normal. So maybe grab a second cup of coffee or click here to get the Bible back-story. And if you don’t have time for a long read today but you value rich friendships, just scroll to the end and jump in with the prayer.)

We know Mary – the mother of Jesus – but her connection with Elizabeth goes back to before her baby was born. Mary was a teenager when the angel appeared and turned her life upside down. Not only would Mary be pregnant, but her baby would be…the Messiah?

Sure, giving birth to the Messiah was something every good Jewish girl dreamed of, but we can imagine what went through Mary’s mind. She wasn’t married. People would talk. She wondered what Joseph would say. What he would do. Mary’s whole life – her reputation, her marriage, her future – hung in the balance. I’m guessing that having an angel to confide in was nice and all that, but what Mary really needed right then was a friend.

And God knew it.

He knows how we think. When we’ve got news we want someone to process it with, someone who will understand. And so God clues Mary in on the fact that Elizabeth is also expecting a surprise. Elizabeth is old (way old), and it makes no sense for her to be pregnant. But she is. Both women – one a virgin, and one long past her childbearing years – are in the same boat.

So Mary goes to visit Elizabeth. And, from a strictly relational standpoint, the story that unfolds is remarkable.

For starters, Elizabeth wasn’t one teeny bit jealous.

Think about that one for a sec. Elizabeth is older, wiser, and married to an uber-godly man who’s devoted his entire life to being a priest. How easy would it have been for Elizabeth to draw some comparisons. To think that maybe being Mom to the Messiah was an honor that she deserved. To wonder whether God had made some sort of cosmic mistake.

But no. There’s not even a hint of “Why wasn’t it me?” Instead, the first thing that comes out of Elizabeth’s mouth when she looks at Mary is affirmation: “Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear!”

Second, Elizabeth never once hogged the spotlight. Her man had also been visited by an angel, and she was expecting her own miracle baby. Who would have blamed her, had she babbled on and on about that? (“I mean, I hit menopause, like, 50 years ago, Mary!”) But Elizabeth doesn’t talk about herself at all, other than to marvel at the fact that Mary would come to her house. “Why am I so favored,” she says, “that the mother of my Lord should come to me?”

That humility – that focus on Mary, rather than her own circumstances – is a marker of life-giving love.

And finally, pretty much everything Elizabeth said fueled Mary’s faith, rather than feeding her fear.

Mary had a long road ahead of her. Here’s how their conversation could have gone down:

Elizabeth could have planted seeds of worry: Mary, are you sure you’re up for this? You’re so young. Have you talked to Joseph? You know how people will talk.

She could have sown kernels of comparison, making Mary feel insecure: I don’t know, Mary. Joseph is just a carpenter. Wouldn’t you think God would want someone like my Zechariah (have I mentioned that he is a priest?) to be a role model for his son?

She could have dug into doubt: Ok Mary…did the angel really say you would give birth to the Son of God? Let’s go over it again. Tell me EXACTLY what Gabriel said. How was his body language?

But Elizabeth didn’t ask any of these worry- or doubt-fueling questions. Instead, she recognized God’s purpose for Mary and she validated it. Here’s what she said, word for word: “Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her!”

“Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her.” Could there be a more life-giving sentence? I can only imagine how Mary must have clung to those words, especially when she found herself having contractions while riding a donkey and having her very first baby in a stable. Without anyone around to give her a push present or start a Sign Up Genius or anything.

Honestly? Elizabeth is the kind of friend we all want to have. The kind of friend we all want to be.

Because there will be times in our lives when our friend is pregnant (maybe not with the Messiah, but with a new job or a new house or a new baby/grandbaby or anything else that we wish we had), and taking delight in her happiness rails against everything in our self-centered nature.

And there will be conversations when everything in us longs to compare our friend’s pain (or their joy) to what we have been through, and we’ll be oh-so-tempted to jump into her life and say “Look at me!”

And of course there will be circumstances that look more than a little bit iffy. Uncomfortable. Scary, even. Situations where it would be easy to come alongside our friend and sow seeds of worry or doubt.

But let’s don’t.

Instead, let’s ask God to shape us into life-giving people, people whose words are marked by encouragement, humility, and a desire to validate and affirm God’s purposes in each others’ lives.

Let’s speak life to our friends.

Heavenly Father,

May our words bring life. May we be people who truly believe that your promises – in our lives, and in the lives of the people we love – will indeed be accomplished. (Proverbs 18:21, Luke 1:45)

Amen

❤️

P.S. Mary and Elizabeth’s connection feels especially precious on the heels of this week’s Garden Club pansy sale, where the friendships are even more vibrant than the flowers. And no (for those of you who have been around this blog for while), I did NOT steal any pansies this year…

Hit the Ball Back

03.08.2019

Every family, I guess, has its own lexicon.

Several years ago, I curated a few favorite Berndt sayings (things like Paddle hard, Eat the ugly frog first, and Keep chocolate handy) and painted them on a “Family Rules” board.

Paddle Hard is a take-off on Colossians 3:23, which served as a theme verse for our staycation one year.

The Ugly Frog is a twist on Mark Twain (“If it’s your job to eat a frog, it’s best to do it first thing in the morning. And if it’s your job to eat two frogs, it’s best to eat the biggest one first”).

And that bit about Chocolate? That’s just basic survival, to us.

I love this old board, but there is one rule–one good family rule–that I forgot to include.

Hit the ball back.

Hit the ball back began with our son, who views much of life through the lens of athletics.

As a preschooler, Robbie learned math. It wasn’t on purpose; we just parked him in front of the television (fourth child) and asked questions like, “How many points does U.Va. need to score in the next minute if we are going to beat Carolina?”

As a fourth-grader, Robbie sometimes forgot to turn in his assignments–until we explained that homework worked exactly like basketball: It didn’t actually count unless you “sunk it” in the teacher’s basket.

And then one day, another dad offered to drive Robbie to lacrosse camp. I knew the fellas would be in the car for awhile, and I wanted Robbie’s conversation to sparkle. Trouble was, he had three older sisters, which meant we didn’t actually know whether our boy could talk.

It was time for some pregame coaching.

“When Mr. McKee asks you a question,” I said, “don’t just answer with a yes or a no. Pretend that whatever he says is a tennis serve, and return it. Give him something that he can hit back.”

I don’t know how the ride went (Robbie thought it was great, but then again, he thought he got all his SAT-Math questions right), but Hit the ball back became a family staple that day.

Years later, after our children were grown, I realized that nobody hit the ball back better than Jesus. Whether He served the ball or returned it, the Lord always invited folks to come play.

“How many loaves do you have?” Jesus asked, when the disciples wondered where they could find food for 4,000 people.

“Who do people say the Son of Man is?” Jesus wondered, sparking a dialogue that led to Peter’s confession: “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.”

“What do you want me to do for you?” Jesus asked a blind beggar, the one who refused to stop shouting. “Rabbi,” the man replied, “I want to see.”

Jesus, of course, knew the answers. He knew how much bread was on hand, that He was God’s Son, and that the blind man wanted to see.

So…why all the questions? What was Jesus trying to do?

Think about it.

Jesus could have just blurted stuff out (“I am GOD!“), or healed people as He wandered by. Athletically speaking, though, that would be like Roger Federer, playing tennis with me. Federer could serve (or return) the ball 24 times, and the set would be over. And at the end of the match, I would never have moved from the baseline, my game would be unimproved, and–worst of all–I would not know a single thing about my amazing opponent (other than what I already did, from TV).

But that’s not what God wants for our lives.

God wants us to move. He wants us to grow. And most of all, He wants us to get to know Jesus.

Which only happens when we engage.

Jesus didn’t question the disciples for His sake (again, He already knew all the answers), but for theirs. He wanted to draw them into connection, to the place where their lives could be changed. And He still wants to do that today.

What do you have?

Just as the disciples offered their loaves, we can give God our resources and talents (meager as they might be), trusting Him to use them to satisfy many.

Who do you say that I am?

That was Christ’s question to Peter, and He asks the same thing to us. Either He’s God, or He isn’t. What do you say?

What do you want me to do?

This last question might be my favorite, because it’s God’s invitation to pray. The blind man probably figured that his need was obvious. When prompted, though, he made his request anyway. Let’s be like him. Let’s not shrink back. Let’s put our needs out there, knowing that we’ve been invited, and let’s hit the ball back when God serves.

❤️

Oh, that we might know the Lord!
Let us press on to know him.
He will respond to us as surely as the arrival of dawn
or the coming of rains in early spring. (Hosea 6:3 NLT)

Thank you, Lord, that we can know You, and that we can ask for Your help.

Today I need ______.

Thank You for Your promise to respond.

Amen

He will be our peace.

12.21.2018

“They want to see your house.”

That’s what a friend told me, after delivering the news that “everyone” in the Garden Club was apt to show up at the Christmas Coffee I’d said I would host–even the folks who don’t always come to the meetings.

I had a small panic attack. I mean, all of those stylish and talented ladies. In my house. With the Christmas tree still in the driveway, since it’s too big to fit in the family room.

(I know. New year, old problem.)

And then I thought about Mary. Did she have the same hostessing qualms that I did, all those Christmases ago? Like, when the Wise Men showed up, in their fancy robes with their pricey presents, did she fluff her pillows? Hide the unopened mail in the dryer? Dash out to the back yard to cut a few greens to make her fake Advent wreath look a little more real?

I don’t think so.

Maybe it’s because her visitors were men (and therefore could not be counted on to notice, much less rave about, her “Double Marilyn” amaryllis), but I don’t think that Mary did anything. And the way Matthew 2 tells it, I doubt the Magi gave a rip about their surroundings. They just followed the star, and when it stopped….

…they were overjoyed beyond measure. Entering the house, they saw the child with Mary His mother, and falling to their knees, they worshiped Him.

These guys just walked in, took one look at Jesus, and…worshiped.

Which is exactly what I want to do.

Seriously. I love Christmas–even the mayhem part–but I don’t want to get so caught up in the wrapping and tagging and baking and bagging that I wind up missing the Messiah. Like the Wise Men, I want to see Jesus. I want to worship!

For me, though, worship doesn’t always come easy. I can light the Advent candles and read my devotional and put on a Christmas playlist, but then I look up and see The Tree (which finally made it through the front door yesterday, after Robbie sawed nearly half of it off), and think, “Shoot. That thing has got to get decorated, one of these days.”

And there goes my worship.

So here’s what I’ve finally decided. I’ve decided that I cannot worship–really worship–on my own. I get too distracted, too hindered and entangled by all the wrong stuff. I am like the father, in Mark 9, who looked at Jesus and said, “I do believe” and then, in the very next breath, said, “Help me overcome my unbelief!”

I do worship; help me worship!

If that’s where you find yourself too (and particularly as we approach The Big Day), feel free to join me in prayer. Let’s ask God to help us do what we were created to do. Let’s ask Him to lead us into worship. Let’s ask him not just to grant us peace, but to actually be our peace.

Even if it is December 21 and there’s a giant tree, standing there utterly naked, in the family room…

Heavenly Father,

Help us throw off everything that hinders [things like shopping and wrapping and decking the halls] and fix our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. (Hebrews 12:1-2)

Be our shepherd, O Lord. Be our peace. (Micah 5:4-5)

Amen.

Merry Christmas!

Scrabble, Black Friday, and Buddy the Elf

11.30.2018

I come from a long line of Scrabble players.

My mother, an English professor who has her Ph.D. in Instructional Technology (which is really a thing), is a family champion, as was her father (also a Ph.D. prof) before her. Even my own dad—who was more into numbers than words—got pressed into action at the family game table. And when brain cancer meant that he could no longer sit up comfortably, he still played—albeit while lying flat on the floor and using words that didn’t always have vowels.

(We decided they must be Russian vocab, and that Dad could therefore keep all his points.)

And so I read with great interest the recent Wall Street Journal article claiming that men are better than women at Scrabble. My first thought was that they had not met my mom. But then I dug deeper. “Championship Scrabble,” the columnist noted, “rewards typical male obsessions: strategy, math, a passion for competition, and a drive to memorize facts.”

Ahh.

I don’t know about the male drive to memorize (Robbie is working on Philippians 4:4-6 right now for my mom’s Christmas gift, and I don’t think it’s going so well), but my man is definitely all about strategy, math, and competitive play. And nowhere, perhaps, are these traits more evident than during the holiday season, when his Buddy the Elf side comes out and he hangs Christmas lights like he owns the power company.

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Back to the Scrabble research.

When I got to the last line in the column, which stipulated that men and women are, in fact, different, I was like: “Um, hello? Any wife with a husband knows that.”

Consider our house, on Black Friday.

Robbie and I were all set to take advantage of the holiday deals. First, though, I had to put away all the platters and silver from our Thanksgiving meal. Which is when I noticed the pile of 14 damask napkins that had to go in the wash. (They’d need ironing, too, but I’d get to that later.) I hit “start” on the washing machine and pulled the brunch fixings out of the fridge so I’d be ready when the children showed up. And remembered I’d promised to make shortbread for a neighbor’s party, later that night. So I preheated the oven–and realized that the amaryllis bulbs (the ones I had timed to start blooming near Christmas) had been neglected during all the Thanksgiving prep. I gave them some water, pulled out the butter and the cookie cutters, and started in on the shortbread.

I got the dough in the oven, moved the napkins to the dryer, and opened my laptop. Oh my. There were dozens of Black Friday emails–plus a few from actual people I knew. I handled the real people first, and then started scrolling the sales. I saw where Target had everything discounted by 15%. Ballard Designs offered 30. And J. Crew was telling me that their entire site was half off. Even Home Depot had Cyber Savings Galore – did I need anything there?

Probably. Let me think…

Meanwhile, Robbie (who’d been reading the paper) stood up. “Lowes has $12.99 light sets marked down to $3.99,” he said. “I’m headed out. Need anything?”

I didn’t. At least nothing I could think of, in between the napkins, the shortbread, and the wondering if anyone on my list needed a new J. Crew scarf, or maybe a ceiling fan from Home Depot.

Twenty-eight minutes later (and I am not making that up), Robbie was back, having purchased 28 boxes of lights. Me? Let’s just say I did buy a gadget my son-in-law wanted, but I am pretty sure that I paid the full price.

So what’s my point?

My point is that we don’t need a Scrabble championship to tell us we’re wired differently. I’m not trying to be all gender-y and political; I’m just saying I’m grateful. I mean, had I gotten in the car on Black Friday and gone out to Lowe’s, I might still be in the plumbing parts aisle. But not Robbie. My man has the eye of the tiger.

So again, what’s my point?

I guess what I want to say–and how I want to encourage us–is that this holiday season (and I am speaking mostly to the ladies here but guys, this applies to you, too), when our spouse (or our child) makes us a little bit cray-cray or we don’t understand what they’re doing (like when my friend’s husband spent Thanksgiving Day napping, all dressed for dinner and sleeping fully upright on the sofa so as not to wrinkle his khakis, and then happily told her, later that night, that this was “the least stressful Thanksgiving ever!”), let’s not get our undies all up in a wad. Instead, let’s find a difference that makes us grateful, and celebrate that.

I’ll go first, since the Scrabble thing is fresh in my mind.

I really am thankful that Buddy’s strategic. He tried out a new light method this year, and actually sent in-process pics to the family for feedback:

I also love how much my guy gets jacked up about math. Sure, Robbie’s been known to balk at a $5 cover charge, but it’s only cuz he’s saving up for the light show. He calculates lights-per-bush numbers and divides them by strands, factoring in the difference when you use the 100-count vs the 50. (SAT prep, eat your heart out.)

And competitive? Let’s just say that while I don’t think Robbie is trying to outshine our neighbors (we couldn’t), I did see his chin quiver just the tiniest bit when we turned on the TV Wednesday night. That’s when they lit up the Rock Center tree…

It was spectacular. And on Thursday, Buddy might have even gone back to Lowe’s…

❤️🎄

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for the glorious variety that marks your creation! May we celebrate and rejoice in those differences!

Help us be devoted to one another, honoring one another above ourselves. And may we always give thanks for each other, growing in faith and increasing in love for our family and friends. (Romans 12:10, 2 Thessalonians 1:3)

Amen

Shower the Pansies You Love with Love

10.12.2018

This won’t be a long post. I could give you all sorts of excuses, but the main one is that I’m tired. Blame it on the Pansy Sale.

Officially known as the Fall Flower Festival, the “pansy sale” is the centerpiece of the Garden Club calendar (and, some might say, of our lives). It can get fairly dramatic–some of you will remember last year’s crisis, when I temporarily “borrowed” a few flats of Delta Pure Orange from the City of Virginia Beach and my pal Dee wound up getting clobbered for my sin–but this year, things seemed to go off hitch-free.

Or mostly hitch-free.

So inspired was I by my friend Jane’s “Container Gardening” demo at the sale…

…that I decided to plant my pots just like she did. I found some tallish green things, tucked in some ivy and a few ColorMax Lemon Splash violas, and patted myself on the back. #GreenThumb

And then I left town.

For five days. And when I got back…

The flowers were dead.

And do you know what popped into my mind, as I surveyed the crime scene? I’ll tell you. What popped into my mind was Paul’s counsel to the Corinthians, back when they were squabbling about whether they should follow Paul (who planted spiritual seeds) or Apollos (who watered them):

Neither the one who plants nor the one who waters is anything, but only God, who makes things grow.

God makes things grow. Roger that. Whether we’re talking pansies or people, he’s the change-agent.

But it’s not like we sit back and do nothing. We’ve got a job to do, too: We plant, and we water. And when we don’t (like, when we forget to shower the people we love with love) stuff dries up. Friendships wither. Spouses withdraw. Children don’t flourish the way that they should.

So that’s all.

Just a little encouragement from a D- gardener to water your plants, and your people, today. 😊

Heavenly Father,

May our words and deeds be rooted in love so that they produce great joy and encouragement. May we be refreshers of hearts. (Philemon 7)

Amen

And P.S., one more thing. Even if a relationship looks totally dead, it’s probably not. It’s probably like my violas, which turned out to be only (and who doesn’t love a good Princess Bride quote?) “mostly dead.”

A little water, a little love, and they’re back.

Don’t let bad stuff get stuck in your vent

09.14.2018

Our clothes dryer stopped working last week.

We had a repair guy come take a look, and it sputtered to life–but then quit again after a handful of loads. Finally, we gave in and bought a new dryer. When the guys came to install it, the old vent thing fell out of the wall…along with about eight years’ worth of dog hair, beach sand, and lint.

I know. I know. Don’t be telling me what a fire hazard that is. Or that we should have checked the vent set-up before replacing the whole thing. Believe me, I know. But that’s not the point of this blog.

The point of this blog is that September is Book Giveaway month, and this week’s featured title from author Ty Saltzgiver is And Jesus Said, “…Follow Me”.

Follow Me has soooo many great pearls to ponder. On the subject of trust, for instance, Ty writes, “We all want clarity, but isn’t clarity the opposite of trust?”

On the difficulty we face, sometimes, in receiving, he says, “Doing love is good for the ego; sitting quietly and receiving love is humbling.”

And on the longing we have for more than position, possessions, and pleasures, Ty writes, “The soul’s function is to yearn in order for us to know that LIFE is more than what this world can bring us.”

See? So much good stuff, all offered in bite-sized chapters we can read on our own or with friends.

Surprisingly (because this is NOT a subject that I like to dwell on too much), one of the Follow Me chapters I found most captivating was about sin.

(I know, I know. You don’t like that topic either. But stick with me for a hot sec.)

Nobody likes to acknowledge their sin, to admit that they’ve failed, or that they’ve blown it (again). But doing so, Ty says, is “vital and growth-producing.”

Here’s why (and I’m quoting Ty here):

A sign of drawing closer to Jesus is being more aware of one’s sin (sometimes even having the accompanying “feeling” of being farther from Jesus). It’s like the light being turned up brighter in a room revealing faded paint, a water spot, and a crack in the wall, all that were unnoticed in the previous low light.

Boy, do I get that.

And I’d find the whole light-on-the-spot thing super discouraging, except for what happens when sin gets revealed–and confessed. More from Ty:

Once you call sin by name before God (that is, once you confess it), three things happen:

You are forgiven and God does not count it against you.
The sin is disarmed; it no longer has the same power in your life.
God can begin, in his power and time, to heal you and take that sin from you.

The courage to confess sin springs from knowing that God’s love for us is undiminished by our sin. He longs to pour out His love on us, and in us, in Tidal Wave fashion. He longs to grow us into the unique person who He’s dreamed us to be. He longs to be intimate with us. Our sin unconfessed is the only barrier.

I love that.

And there’s lots more in the chapter–like, thought-provoking discussion questions, catchy Greek words for sin, and Bible verses that can help us flesh out the picture.

The only thing missing (and I don’t mean to tell Ty how to write) is the obvious illustration about how our relationship with the Lord is like a clothes dryer vent. As long as it’s clear, our lives work pretty well. But clog up the works with a mix of dog hair and sin, and stuff starts to break down. There is just no flow.

But when we identify and dislodge the bad stuff–when we name our sin and humbly confess it, even if that feels painful or awkward (and speaking from experience, it often does)–God goes to work. The stream of living water which flows from the heart of Jesus into our hearts flows less constricted, more freely.

We find ourselves caught up in a tidal wave of God’s love.

Heavenly Father,

How joyful is the one whose transgression is forgiven! Keeping silent about our sin saps our strength, but confession takes away guilt. (Psalm 32:1-5)

Show me the places where I resist reviewing myself, places where I may be (even unknowingly) hiding my sin. Grant me the courage to confess, secure in your limitless love.

Amen.

❤️

And Jesus said, “…Follow Me” is a great book for small group discussion–even if your “group” is the teenagers around your table at dinnertime. I tested a few chapters (they’re just two pages long) on my (young adult) children this summer, with decent results. I mean, my people actually made a few engaged-sounding comments. Which I count as a win.

Want your own copy of Follow Me? Click here to order, or enter to win this week’s giveaway by posting a comment here, or on Instagram (@Jodie_Berndt), or Facebook (@JodieBerndtWrites). And congrats to last week’s winner, Jenny Francis – Jenny, your copy of My First 30 Quiet Times is on it’s way!

Friendships and Gutters Should Flow

08.24.2018

“Friendships, like gutters, need to flow.”

No, that’s not C.S. Lewis. Or even Chip Gaines. It’s a little wisdom nugget from this guy:

Ever since he started reading this blog, Bobby has been hinting that I might want to write about him. I don’t normally take this sort of request, but in addition to having the world’s cleanest gutters (a status he attributes to his patent-worthy gutter cleaning invention), Bobby has about 10 zillion friends, so I figured that maybe he knows something worth knowing.

And as it turns out, he actually does.

“Stuff needs to flow through gutters for them to work,” Bobby maintains. “And friendships need flow as well. Communication, vulnerability, time, laughter, shared pain, shared experiences, wisdom, insight…all of these things need to be a dynamic part of our connections if we want our friendships to flourish.”

I like that. And if you’ve been around this blog for awhile, you know that friendship is a topic I love (even when I’m feeling friendless, like I was in this post):

Over the years, we’ve talked about how friendship is what college kids really need (click here for some ways we can pray good friends into their lives), and we’ve looked at why it’s important to have people who will speak truth to us, even when doing so is awkward or hard (because it’s not, as this post explains, always a great idea to just “follow your heart”).

And longtime readers may remember when we dabbled in science, drawing encouragement from research–and yes, they did actually do this to people–that proves you feel better, when you get shocked, if somebody is holding your hand. (That post came with a free printable featuring nine “friendship” prayer cards.)

Clearly, I like to write about friendship.

But getting back to the main point of this blog. Which again, Bobby thinks should be Bobby.

Bobby is part of a group of friends Robbie and I try to connect with, in person, at least once a year.

We ask each other hard questions. What are you doing to invest in your marriage? Where have you struggled at work? How might God want to use you, and your gifts, in the next season of life? What are you doing to grow closer to Him?

We laugh. We try not to make too much fun of each other, but sometimes (like when one of us breaks out an “invention” that he built all by himself and wants to know if anybody is willing to fund it) we can’t help it.

And we pray. We pray for our jobs, our kids, our marriages, and our own stubborn hearts, asking God to work on the places where we’ve strayed or grown hard, and to remind us that (even still) He calls us Beloved.

If you’re reading this post and you think, “I wish I had friends like that,” can I just tell you one thing? You probably do. Ask God to show you who might be open to deeper connections, and then reach out to one or two folks. That’s what happened with our group. As one of us made the pivot from raising her children to the Empty Nest years, she wanted people who would walk alongside her in the new season. She put out some feelers (“Who wants to be friends?”), and the rest of us jumped on board.

And if you’re reading and thinking, “I love my friends!”, let them know! There’s a reason the Bible is so full of exhortations like 1 Thessalonians 5:11; God knows that good things happen when we “encourage one another and build each other up.” Take a moment today to make a phone call, send a text, or write a note (and then remember to mail it) to let a friend know they are loved.

Genuine friendships–like free-flowing gutters–rarely “just happen.” Like Bobby said, they take commitment. Transparency. And a willingness to overlook offenses (because even small stuff can sometimes clog up the tube).

And, of course, prayer always helps.

The Bible is bursting with good things we can pray for our friends–and these are the very blessings God longs to provide! Click on any of the earlier posts to download some prayers, or join me today in borrowing from Isaiah 61, and use one or two of these verses to lift up those you hold dear.

Heavenly Father,

When _____ is brokenhearted or in need of comfort, clothe them with a garment of praise instead of despair. (v. 1-3)

Grow _____ into a strong oak of righteousness, and may their lives display your splendor. (v. 3)

Replace _____’s shame or disgrace with an inheritance of everlasting joy. (v. 7)

May all who see _____ acknowledge that they are a people the Lord has blessed. (v. 9)

Amen

(And yes, Bobby. I did put your whole family right there in verse 9.)

😊

The Dog Days of Summer

07.20.2018

Many of you know our dog, Max. Max has taught me two things this summer.

The first is the value of the iPhone “portrait” feature. My old phone finally gave up, and when Robbie brought home a new one (shopping for anything plug-in being a Blue Job, chez Berndt), I snapped this:

Max has never looked this good in his life.

(And that is not being unkind. Those who have met Max in person, or seen him in previous blogs, know I speak only the truth. But hey. There is more to life than great hair.)

The second lesson from Max is that good things happen when you decide to be nice.

I am not what you might call a Dog Person. I don’t mind them; in fact, I would go so far as to say that I like most dogs. And that I trust people who have dogs more than people who don’t. But if you invite us over for dinner, Robbie’s the one who will sit on the floor and get your pup’s hair and his breath and his ticks or whatever all over his clothing, not me.

But all of that’s changed in the last 100 days.

101, to be exact.

That’s how long it’s been since Max had surgery to take out his spleen. The docs biopsied whatever was in there, and the news was not good. They gave our guy 18-45 days.

I may not be a dog person, but I was the one who brought Max home as a Christmas morning surprise back in 2007, and I found myself rocked by this verdict. And if Max had three-to-six weeks left to live, I resolved to make them the best weeks of his life.

I bought chewy dog treats.

Took him out for some walks.

I might even have talked baby talk, once in awhile. (Which is not something I ever did for our kids.)

And…I began petting him. Not a lot (because then I would have to get out the Roomba and watch it suck up the hairs, which can take up a lot of my valuable time). But a little. And if Max was surprised, he didn’t show it. He just acted happy.

It’s Day 101 and Max seems healthier–and more active–than ever. Maybe he felt weighed down by that spleen? Maybe he is thrilled with the treats, after 11 years of dry kibble? Maybe all he ever wanted was to go for an actual walk?

I don’t know.

But what I do know is this.

I can’t point to the exact day when it happened, but I find myself LOVING our dog. And doing things I haven’t, before. Things like standing in the pet aisle at the grocery store, wondering whether he likes “salmon and veggie” or “chicken and rice” in his bowl, or what shape (bone? bacon strip? tube?) he prefers for his treats.

I know, I know. Some of you are reading this, and you are aghast. Who among us, you think, doesn’t buy bacon-shaped treats BEFORE it’s almost too late? I get that. Unsubscribe if you must; I won’t judge.

And some of you will wonder what possible lesson or truth I could mine from this story. I will tell you. It’s this:

The nicer you are, the more you will love. I don’t know how it works, exactly, but when you decide to be kind to someone (and I think this works for family members and co-workers, as well as mangy golden retrievers), the more attractive they will appear, and the more you will want to be nice. It’s as if love begets love. And not only will you find yourself giving love; others will start loving you back. (I can’t be positive, but I am pretty sure Max thinks I’m awesome.)

And I can’t help but wonder if it’s that way with God. He is so good to us, and he always has been, covering us in love since the beginning of time. When he looks at us, he doesn’t see all our scabs and our warts and our failings. He just sees the object of his boundless affection. He sees us as lovely.

And as we bask in that love, we are transformed. We love, the Bible says, because he first loved us.

Heavenly Father,

Help me to extend love to ______, and to pray for them even if they come against me. Equip me to love others the way that you have loved me. (Matthew 5:44, John 15:12)

❤

And P.S., Ecclesiastes 9:4 says that “a live dog is better than a dead lion.” I don’t really understand that verse, but I do know that I love my live dog, so if anyone wants to pray for us to enjoy another 100 great days (or more!), we’d be grateful.

A Blue Marble, a Beach Book, and Abundance

06.08.2018

“Can you take our picture?”

Virginia and I were walking on a nearly deserted stretch of beach when a young couple ran up and asked for our help. They were friendly and cute (fresh out of Tulane), and we gladly obliged. And afterwards, they had one more question:

“Can we give you something?”

Virginia and I exchanged a look. “Sure…”

We walked up to their beach camp and the fellow got out a little jar full of marbles. Blue ones. Like this:

“This is part of movement,” he explained, popping the lid and giving us each one of his stash. “There was a professor who had cancer and resolved to live life to the full, even during his chemo. And every day that he did it–every day he felt like he’d experienced abundance–he put a blue marble into a jar. So now we are doing the same thing. And I hope you will, too.”

I’m a little hazy on the details (like, I’m not sure if the professor is still alive, or if the beach couple even knew him), but anytime anybody talks up abundance, I’m in. Especially when it’s paired with words like “life to the full,” which (if you’ve been around this blog for awhile) you KNOW takes me straight to this verse:

The thief comes only to steal, kill and destroy. I came that they might have life and have it abundantly. (John 10:10, ESV)

That’s Jesus, outlining the whole reason he came. The whole reason he died. The whole reason why we can live free.

So…is the “blue marble movement” a Jesus-y thing? I don’t know. I looked it up on Instagram (@bluemarbleday) and the organizers cite the Bible as one of their texts (along with a few other not-Bible books), and the three tenets that undergird what they are doing–encouraging gratitude, promoting hope, and kindling love–are three things I’m pretty sure Jesus would like. I do too.

But the lack of any overt mention of Christ got me thinking. Not about the Blue Marble People (cuz I think what they are doing is great; who doesn’t need to be more intentional about things like gratitude?), but about my own self.

And about God.

And about whether my idea of abundance parallels his.

Like, if I were going to put a marble in my jar at the end of the day, it would probably be because I’d enjoyed some combo of coffee, exercise, time spent with people I like, and time spent with God. And if I had done something truly significant–something like, say, moving my winter clothes out of the closet so that the cute summer tops could come in (a task I have yet to accomplish in 2018)–I might even give myself two, and call it a Blue Blue Marble Day.

But is that what Jesus would say? Like, is checking projects off the to-do list part of his “abundant life” vision? Is treating myself to a venti-sized latte what he meant when he said I could live life “to the full”? Is it really all about getting…exercise?

I kinda doubt it.

(Okay, I seriously doubt it.)

But I wasn’t sure, exactly, what Jesus would say. And then, wouldn’t you know (and I am not making this up), I picked up the book I had brought to the beach and read this:

The root word for “abundantly” [in John 10:10] is perissos, meaning “exceedingly more, going past the expected limit.” The word for”life” is zoe, and it encompasses our physical presence and future eternal existence.

(Seriously? I picked a beach read with Greek words? Sheesh. I didn’t know. The cover is pink!)

The author went on, contrasting the world’s definition of abundance with God’s: If abundance is exceedingly more, going past the expected limit of life, we’ve got to check our hearts to be sure we’re not just expecting God to produce exceedingly more, going past the limit of stuff. It’s the age-old struggle: Do we want more of what God can give us, or do we want more of God?

(Ahhh. We’ve been there. Several times, in fact–including back in 2016, when I wrote a post called The Gifts or the Giver.)

Obviously, we have to want God more than stuff. But what happens when we don’t? What happens when we turn to things like Netflix or date nights (or, in my case, tidy sock drawers and lattes) to make us feel good? To fill in the gaps? To help us relax or re-charge?

Here’s what happens: “When we take our needs to the temporary, less-than-perfect comforts of this world, we are left feeling empty and wanting more.”

At least that’s what Jess Connolly says. She’s the gal who wrote my beach book, which is all about pursuing holiness (instead of just rule-keeping), embracing grace (the transformative kind, not the stuff that just winks at our sin), and stepping into abundance (as in, the for-real life God offers). The book is called Dance, Stand, Run: The God-Inspired Moves of a Woman on Holy Ground. And, for whatever freaky reason, it’s just $3.79 on Amazon right now, so if you want it, click here.

And…what if you also want some blue marbles? I know I do–I’m getting some for all of my kids. I’m gonna wrap ’em up in a bag and attach a John 10:10 tag, and tell them what I’m telling myself:

This summer, when you find yourself facing a need (whether it’s a desire for peace, or more energy, or just to feel better and more confident about what life looks like right now), press into Jesus. Trust him to supply what you lack. Take him at his word–that is, give him the chance to show you who he is, and what he can do.

Expect exceedingly more.

And then, at the end of the day, give yourself a blue marble to remind you how all-sufficient God is, and how incredibly much you are loved.

Heavenly Father,

Thank you that Jesus came so that we could have life, and have it abundantly. Help us take hold of that promise, knowing that as we draw near to you, you will draw near to us. Let us find our deepest satisfaction and joy not in your gifts, but in you. (John 10:10, James 4:8, Psalm 90:14).

Amen.

How Does Jesus Want to be Loved?

02.02.2018

True confession: I’m not the biggest Women’s Retreat gal.

I know people think I’m super social, but deep down I think I must be an introvert. Things like retreats, ladies’ luncheons, and even baby showers always sound so friendly and inviting up front, but part way through all the happiness I usually start to lock up. My smile muscles hurt. My face tends to freeze. And I’m sure, when people see me on the way out, they think to themselves: “There goes some bad botox.”

Honestly, though? I loved the retreat I attended last weekend with Galilee Church. And not just because we literally met in a room on TOP of the ocean:

Or because (and if this happened at every retreat, I’d get season tickets) they had TVs for the U.Va. fans. (And yes, I did pack my pom-poms and some BEAT DUKE stickers to share.)

I loved this retreat because of the people (lots of wide open hearts), the worship (songs like What a Beautiful Name), and especially the teaching. Whitney Capps was our speaker.

That woman is pumped about Scritpure. I can’t begin to tell you all that she said (we had three meaty sessions, and I was scrawling notes the whole time), but I want to take a stab at one thing that stuck with me. Whitney talked about how Jesus wants to be loved.

(And let me interrupt myself right here and say: If you already have a touch of the wobbles today and you can’t take much Deep Thought, maybe come back next week, when I will try to be lighter. But for those who want to dig in, buckle up and let’s go.)

Remember the lawyer in Luke 10, the guy who stands up and wants to know how to inherit eternal life? It’s a good question–and Jesus turns it right back on the guy:

“What is written in the Law?” Jesus asks. “How do you read it?”

The legal eagle doesn’t miss a beat: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind,’” he says (quoting Deuteronomy 6:5), “and ‘Love your neighbor as yourself’” (that one’s from Leviticus 19:18; clearly, that guy knew his stuff).

Jesus tells the fellow he’s right. And then their convo segues into what we know now as the Parable of the Good Samaritan.

But Whitney didn’t go there. Instead, she camped out on one little verse–Luke 10:27–and teased out how, exactly, we are supposed to love God. Like, what does it really mean to love Jesus with all of our heart, soul, strength, and mind?

Another good question–and one, honestly, I’d never really thought much about.

Turns out, loving God with all our HEART involves not just passion and desire, but also thoughtful reason. The Greek word for “heart” in this verse is kardia–which is where we get our term “cardio.” To the Luke 10 audience, this word would have implied engaging the will, or making some kind of resolution to love.

Loving God with all of our SOUL (which comes from the word psuche, as in “psyche”) taps into the deepest part of our being. Our soul is the part of us that is not dissolved by death. It has a moral component, one that resonates with eternity, because our soul is designed to be everlasting.

I’m gonna skip the word STRENGTH for just a sec, and move onto MIND, which comes from the Greek word dianoia (and I am probably butchering half this stuff, so if you are a Greek or Hebrew scholar, I am begging you: Please leave a comment). Dianoia connotes “understanding.” It is more than just knowledge; it is a way of thinking about information. It’s a mental processing that, Whitney suggested, is inspired and unlocked by the Holy Spirit.

So let’s recap.

To love Jesus well, we need to engage our heart (our passion, desire, and thoughtful reason). We need to love from our soul (from the very depths of our being, with an eye on eternity). We must love with our mind (not just knowing about God, but knowing God–putting all the pieces together and processing who he is, what he does, and how incredibly much he loves us).

And we need to love the Lord with all of our strength. I left this one until last because it’s a different word in Hebrew than it is in Greek. In the Deuteronomy (the Hebrew) version that the lawyer quoted, strength was also translated might, and it implied loving with “abundant force”–something that the Jodie Expository Dictionary might call True Grit. It’s the kind of love that keeps you hanging in there, against all odds (and against all sense of feeling), because it is rooted in what you know to be true. It’s a love that is brave.

In the Luke 10 passage (the Greek), the word strength comes with a twist. Yes, it implies things like power and might, but the Greek translation also involves ability or aptitude–as in, strength as a God-given gift. Isn’t that cool? We can love God with the strength that comes from somewhere beyond ourselves. We can love with the strength he provides.

Is your head spinning yet? Yeah, mine was too. But when I got home from the retreat I started looking stuff up (there’s a website called blueletterbible.org where people like me–people whose grasp of Hebrew pretty much begins and ends with Bar Mitzvah–can have serious fun in the weeds). And when you boil it all down, what I want to ask you today (and what Whitney asked us) is this:

How do YOU love God?

Some of us may find it easy to love God with our hearts (our passion, our reason, our desire). Some do it from the soul, just sort of “breathing” in Jesus. Some may find it easy, natural even, to mentally put all the pieces together, and process God’s nature with an understanding that compels us to love. And some of us–particularly those who are going through a really hard time, a time where maybe we don’t understand how or why God could let something happen–are loving God out of our might. We love him even when we don’t feel it, or when it doesn’t make sense to our minds. We love Jesus out of sheer grit, out of the strength he provides.

I know (cuz he said so) that God wants us to love him in all of these ways. So let’s think about where it is easy for us, and where maybe it’s hard. And let’s ask God to increase our love. Let ask him to equip us to love him with all that we have, and all that we are.

Ok. I think I’ll leave it right there. Because honestly? I don’t even really know what all of this means. All I know is that I want to love Jesus well. Really well.

Because he loved me first.

Merry Christ-Mess!

12.15.2017

I saw my friend Rhonda this week. “Your house looks so pretty!” she exclaimed. “Who does all your lights?”

Y’all know who does our lights. It’s my husband, Buddy the Elf, and this year’s blast of frigid air in Virginia Beach got him more inspired than ever. Robbie claims he “cannot work” when it is above 50 degrees (something about the warmer air kills his holiday mojo) and so, thanks to this recent bout of global cooling, we are starting to look a little Chernobyl. In a Christmasy way.

Inside, though, it’s a different story.

The kids brought the boxes down from the attic over Thanksgiving weekend and put them in the living room. Which is where they are now. Last week, I pulled out the nativity scene to get myself in the Jesus mood, but it didn’t really take. I don’t feel all that Advent-y; I mostly just feel…overwhelmed.

Even the Christmas cards–a tradition I normally love–don’t seem to have what it takes. I came up with a prototype back in November, but when the kids saw it, they gave it the ax. So I went back to the drawing board, designed a Plan B, and had them printed this week. Now, the cards are sitting in their own little boxes on the kitchen counter. If they never get sent, will Christmas still come? If a tree falls in the forest…

Speaking of. I am thinking that my problem actually might be our tree. You already know it’s too big for our house; we had to move the furniture all to one side in order to get the thing into the family room. It fit–barely–but there is zero feng shui. And if you want to watch TV, you have to crane your neck around the branches to see the whole screen.

And, positioned as the tree is in front of the room’s big double window, it literally blocks ALL THE LIGHT. I keep thinking about how Jesus came as the “light of the world,” but I am not feeling it, at least not in our family room. All we are in there is just dark. It’s like the year that my friend’s husband boarded up the windows and gift-wrapped their ENTIRE HOUSE house so that it looked like a big Christmas present. He was all happy and proud of himself; she started asking people if they had any spare vodka.

Honestly, though, I am kind of surprised by our tree’s darkness power. It has already lost so many needles that you would think it would be see-through by now, but no. On the plus side, I get a little chuckle out of looking at Buddy’s hair. My man faithfully waters the tree every night, and he always comes out with a head full of pine.

(Which explains why I keep finding Christmas tree parts in our bed.)

All of which is to say…appearances can be deceiving. Because if you rode by our house at night, you would think that a very “all together” person lived there, someone who was probably inside baking cookies and wrapping presents while Bing did his thing on Pandora. And, if you are one of those people who sometimes falls into the comparison trap (and who doesn’t?), you might even go home and start feeling badly about your own Christmas prep.

But don’t. Because, looking at the outside of somebody else’s life, you never get the whole picture.

One of the best pieces of advice anyone ever gave me was this: “Don’t judge your insides by somebody else’s outsides.” I feel like that’s especially important for parents to remember. It can seem like other people’s kids are always more squared away than ours are, or that other families have it all together in their marriages, or their finances, or whatever.

The truth is, none of us do. We’ve all got gaping holes in our lives–boxes that clutter our living rooms, cards that smack of things left undone, pine needles that mess with our heads–and we all need huge buckets of God’s strength and his mercy. We might look all fresh and festive on the outside…but inside we’re all desperate for grace.

Which is, I think, the whole point.

Jesus didn’t leave his glorious home in heaven in order to come into a picture perfect world. He came to inhabit our mess. To walk through it with us. To use it, even, to draw us to himself. To invite us, in the most beautiful way, to surrender.

Which is kind of what happened with me. I sat there yesterday, looking at all of my undone decorating and my unsent cards (and trying not to make eye contact with the tree, lest it hurt me), and I prayed.

“Jesus,” I said (and, as pathetic as this sounds, I am not making it up), “do you mind waiting a little while, while I try to put up some decorations? Like, I really want to worship you, to celebrate Advent, to breathe deeply of Christmas.

“But until I have all my Santas out and maybe cut some magnolia, I just don’t think I can do it.”

And y’all, I promise. I didn’t hear Jesus laugh–not out loud–but I sensed him smile. And I felt him whisper these words to my soul:

I can wait. But I won’t. Not for this. Not for you to make yourself–or your living room–perfect.

I came for your mess. I love you in your mess.

And I’m here.

Alrighty then. We don’t have to wait until December 25–or until we get our halls decked–to celebrate Jesus. We can enjoy him right now. We can know, in the midst of our mess, how very much we are loved.

Even (and especially) on the inside.

FOMO, Friendship, and Facebook

10.27.2017

I am one of those people who was FOMO before that was a thing. Like, early on in our marriage, Robbie and I would be driving down a street and we’d pass a house where there was clearly a party in progress.

“Just look at all those cars,” I’d say. “Slow down. Look at the lights in the windows…”

Robbie rarely looked. Or slowed down. He usually kept driving, while I craned my neck. And then, as the house slipped out of view, I would lean back in my seat.

“I wish we’d been invited.”

“Jodie,” Robbie would reply, drawing my name out the way you do when you are trying to explain something to a particularly low-wattage person, “We don’t know the people who live there.”

“I know,” I’d sigh. “But we could meet them. And I am pretty sure that they’d like us.”

I want to be liked.

By everybody.

Last week, for instance, I went to the grocery store, and the checkout gal was not very nice. I gave her my best “Hey there!” smile, but it was obvious that she did not want me in her line. The only thing she wanted was to scan my Klondike Bars and get me out of there.

“I bet you’re not gonna go back there anytime soon,” a friend laughed, when I told her about the experience.

“Are you kidding?” I countered. “I’m going back there tomorrow! I’m gonna get back in her line every day, until we are friends!”

All of this is to say that you would THINK I would have been the first person on Facebook, back when Mark Zuckerberg brought it out of his basement or whatever. Say what you will about the social behemoth; it is clearly a place to find friends. In fact, I did a video series about friendship a few years ago, and I found a website where you could even buy friends. For $200, you could get 1000 of them. Seriously. And these were real people—people who would actually follow you and post comments about your life.

(What’s not to love?)

You would think I’d be all about Facebook…but you would be wrong. Maybe it’s the idea of buying friends that was kind of a turn off. Maybe it’s the whole “look at me” thing. Maybe it’s that I’d read all these studies showing how people actually get depressed after looking at Facebook, since their friends are laughing and drinking and dancing in Paris or wherever, while they’re sitting home watching Netflix. As one of the founders of FOMO, I knew I’d be taking a risk.

Or maybe my Facebook aversion has more somber roots. Maybe it’s that I was brought up in a highly evangelical Christian home where we were warned, from our earliest years, to avoid “the mark of the beast.” Nobody ever explained what the mark actually was, but anything that had the power to lure billions of people and capture what felt like their every waking moment certainly, I thought, had potential. There was a reason they called it “The Web.”

(And when Robbie reads this blog he will tell me that Facebook is not the same thing as the Web. And I will say, “That’s what They want you to think.”)

Anyhow.

Change happens. And in my case, change happened when the marketing team that HarperCollins hired to help promote my new book (Praying the Scriptures for Your Adult Children releases in just a few weeks!) discovered that I was not yet on Facebook.

“Jodie,” they said (again, speaking slowly), “You need an account. Facebook is where your readers are.”

“My readers?”

“Yes. All of the demographics agree. Facebook is where the older women hang out.”

Ahhh, yes. The older women. My people.

And so, despite the potential for depression and my fear of the beast and all that, I jumped in. The marketing folks (who, if you need marketing folks, are actually amazing; you can find them at C. Grant and Company) designed a big, beautiful page and then set up my training.

(Seriously, y’all. I had Facebook training. Over the phone. And, about 20 minutes into the first session, Robbie—who was in the other room listening to me try to upload a photo, while the poor C. Grant person tried to coach me through the process—finally decided he couldn’t take it anymore. “Do I need to come in there?” he yelled, loud enough for the marketing lady to hear. #Marriage.)

I finally got the hang of it—at least enough to log in—and I put my account into the Facebook search bar: Jodie Berndt Writes.

And here’s what came up:

Can you imagine? It’s like the entire Internet was looking at me, saying: You have no friends.

Not knowing what else to do (I didn’t want to ask the marketing gal how I could find friends; there is only so much stupid one person can take), I did what all of the other old ladies do.

I reached out to my kids.

(You can’t like regular people? Lord, help us.)

Anyhow.

I don’t really know what I am doing. But if you are already on Facebook, you probably do. And if so, will you like me? Or follow me? Or maybe even share my page with any geriatric people you know? I hope if you click here it will take you to the right page; here’s what it looks like:

I think the C. Grant folks did a great job. And honestly? I feel like I did when my Dad gave me that really nice tennis racquet for Christmas one year. He was a good tennis player, and that present made him so happy.

I wanted to be happy, too. I just needed to figure out how to use the darn thing. And I’ll figure Facebook out, too. It might take me awhile (tennis sure did), but I’ll get there.

And in the meantime, I will be going back to the grocery store, trying to find my cashier. I don’t care if she doesn’t like me. Because Jesus, the best friend a gal could ever hope to have, never said anything about “likes.” He talked about love, the kind that is patient, forgiving, and faithful. The kind that puts other folks first. The kind that would do anything – anything – to show someone how much she is loved.

So here’s the plan. I’m gonna load up on the Klondikes, put on my very best “Let’s be friends” face, and go show that lady who loves her.

❤️ 🙋

When You Can’t See God’s Hand…

10.06.2017

I wanted to write a funny blog this week. I really did. I feel like I could use a good chuckle.

And with it being the Fall Flower Festival week at the Garden Club, it’s not like I don’t have the material. You try locking 70 women in a giant convention hall for two days and asking them to hawk 56,387 pounds of pansies to their family and friends, and see if you don’t roll on the floor at some point. Stephen Colbert, eat your heart out.

Honestly, though? The pansy story will keep. Cuz right now I’m not feeling that funny. The planet is reeling from earthquakes and hurricanes. A friend’s sister lost her new baby this week. And now we have Vegas. I just cannot imagine.

The FBI, according to news reports, is still seeking a motive. Which is ironic, in a way, because so am I.

I know God is good. And I know he is powerful. And when stuff like this happens, I find myself saying, “God, what on earth were you thinking?”

I feel like I’d feel better if I could just see God’s hand, if he just clued me in or reassured me somehow, the way that I whispered to my young daughters in the movie theater during Beauty and the Beast when the wolves came out and surrounded Belle’s father. “Don’t be scared,” I remember saying. “Just wait. I will all be okay.”

Sometimes, though, God keeps his cards close to his vest. And so, instead of grasping his plan, I’m left taking my friend Michelle’s advice, honed during a time when her own faith was tested:

“You can’t always see God’s hand,” she says. “But you can trust his heart.”

Wise counsel. Because we can trust God’s heart. And we can be confident that he is totally, unreservedly for us. In fact, if the only Bible verse we ever heard was John 3:16, that would be enough. God loved us so much that he gave his son’s life.

(Which is another thing that, being a mom, I cannot begin to imagine.)

I do trust God’s heart. I really do. But if you’re like me, and you want to “figure God out” (which Virginia always says I can’t do), you’ll love something I read this past week. It’s from Isaiah 66, a passage that talks about God’s ultimate plan:

“As a mother comforts her child,” God says in verse 13, “so I will comfort you.”

And then:

“When you see this, your hearts will rejoice and you will flourish like grass; the hand of the Lord will be made known to his servants.”

The hand of the Lord will be made known to his servants. If there is a more hope-filled promise for “figure it out” gals like me, I’ve not yet found it. Just knowing that one day it will all add up and make sense is enough to keep me going, for now.

In the meantime, I will rely on God’s comfort. And if that’s what you want too, here’s one way we can pray:

Heavenly Father,

Send your Holy Spirit, who is called the Comforter, to remind us of your love and give us your peace. Do not let our hearts be troubled, and keep us from being afraid. (John 14:26-27)

And Lord, in your perfect timing, we ask that you would switch things up. Give us a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. (Isaiah 61:3)

Help us, during those times when we cannot see your hand, to trust your heart.

Amen.

Michael Phelps, Dots, and Jesus

08.11.2016

I’ve seen those dots before.

The kind of bruises that Michael Phelps is sporting in Rio look painful. I first saw the circular marks years ago, when I visited my brother in China. David asked if Robbie and I wanted to get a massage after a long day of hiking on the Great Wall, and we agreed. Until we saw the “spa.”

It was a place on the street (one of many similar establishments, as it turned out) where folks could pop in on their way home from work or wherever to relieve sore muscles and stress. I stared, baffled, as one after another Chinese person lay, face down and without an ounce of self-consciousness, on little cots tucked side-by-side, in full view of the sidewalk. The technicians (masseuses?) would cover their clients’ backs with little glass cups, let them sit for a bit, and then pull them off with a thwock, leaving a collection of pinkish-purple spots, each a little bigger than an Oreo. The Chinese people seemed very happy with the results; to me, they looked possibly awkward and definitely uncomfortable.

When our turn came, Robbie demurred, but on the “when-in-Rome” principle, I plopped down on a cot and asked my gal for “no cups, please.” I guess something got lost in translation, because what followed was second only to maybe childbirth in the “sensations I’d like to forget” category. And I actually did forget, mostly–until I saw Phelps and his majestically dotted shoulders.

And then I remembered the cups, and I thought two things.

The first was that, as I’ve said in this space before, “People vary.” Phelps and a handful of his fellow Olympians credit the treatment with providing healing and relaxation. It’s just “superficial bruising,” they say (which I guess makes it more appealing than the normal kind of bruising). Again, people vary.

The second thing I thought was that people will subject themselves to pain for all sorts of reasons. Phelps & Co. do it to heal themselves; Jesus did it to bring healing to us. The Bible says that he was “pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon him, and by his wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:4)

Thinking about these two guys today, Michael Phelps and Jesus, I am struck by how each got what he wanted. Phelps has 25 medals (and counting); Jesus has the salvation of our souls. That same Isaiah passage says he suffered and then, when he saw what his pain had accomplished, he was “satisfied.”

So here’s the good news, for all of us: If you want to be like Mike and try the ancient Chinese secret, you can actually order your own set of cups on Amazon for about twenty bucks. If you want to do like the old song says and “try Jesus,” you can do that for free.

(Having been up close and personal with both–and with all due respect and a boatload of admiration for Phelps–you know which treatment I’d pick.)

The Road to Victory

03.24.2016

I love college sports. I’m partial to U.Va., of course (and how about that Anthony Gill, praying for Coach Bennett on the sidelines last weekend?), but I’ll watch almost any team, particularly if a big game is on the line.

But there’s one part I definitely don’t love. Even if the whoopsie is on the part of the “bad guys,” I really hate it when a contest comes down to the wire and the guy on the free throw line misses his shot. Or the goalie lets a zinger rip past his shoulder in lacrosse’s “sudden death” overtime. Or (and this is probably the worst) when it’s up to the kicker, and he misses the last-second field goal. Even just writing about it, my stomach hurts.

It’s not that I hate the thought of losing. It’s more that I hate the thought that (as one of our football-playing friends put it), “First you’re the hero, and then you’re the zero.”

Which is, when you think about it, kind of what happened to Jesus in the space between Palm Sunday and Good Friday. At first, the crowds are lining the streets, spreading their coats on the ground for his donkey and waving palm branches while they shout cheers like, “Hosanna!” and “Blessed!”

But then the mood shifts, and some of these same people are turning their backs on him. Pretending they don’t even know him. Spitting on Jesus, even. And shouting, “Crucify!”

And he took it.

Philippians 2:7 says that Jesus “made himself nothing.” He emptied himself of all the glory that was rightfully his and, voluntarily, became the biggest zero the world has ever seen.

To most people, it looked like Game Over. But it wasn’t. And I know we’ve still got a few days before the stone gets rolled away, but honestly? Easter is the best come-from-behind, bust-all-the-brackets, zero-to-hero story that has ever been told.

And I love it. I love it because Jesus didn’t just win one for himself; he won it all of us. “To all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God.” (John 1:12)

And I love it because he didn’t just triumph over death so that we could go to heaven when we die. He did it so that we could be on the winning team now, so that we could play with confidence and joy, even when the game doesn’t seem to be going our way.

I don’t know where you are, spiritually, or what you’re dealing with this Easter season. But I can tell you this: God is all about the zero-to-hero thing. To him, it doesn’t matter how badly we’ve messed up our marriages, our parenting, our jobs, our whatever. He knows all of that, and he still wants us to play for him. He wants to take all the zeroes of our lives and turn them into a win.

If you’ve never made a decision to trust God – to just hand him your life, cuz he’s already given his for your sake – I want to encourage you to do that this Easter. Being a Christ-follower doesn’t mean you’ll never get fouled, or that you’ll never get a bad call. You will. But you’ll be playing for a Coach who is crazy about you, who has a wonderful game plan for your life, and who has already won the victory.

And March Madness doesn’t get any better that that.

A Life Well Lived

02.18.2016

When I was in high school, nobody had ever heard of Martha Stewart, Bunny Williams, or even Pottery Barn. Anyone who was anyone decorated with posters. The guys all had Farrah in that red swimsuit; we girls pinned up pictures of Shaun Cassidy or that other Hardy boy, the members of ABBA, and anything that looked good under a black light.

All of the cool kids got their wall art at Spencer’s. I got mine from my dad:

Your Father knows what you need before you ask him.

Dad bought the poster at the Christian bookstore (the same one where he and Mom got my extra-large “Jesus is Lord” purse, but that’s a story for another blog). I knew the poster wasn’t cool (neither was the purse), but I liked it. I taped it onto the wood paneling of my bedroom wall, just above my orange beanbag chair and my collection of Peter Frampton albums. When I went off to U.Va., I hung it up in my dorm room, just above my bed, right across from my roommate’s shrine to Bruce Springsteen.

I know my dad meant for the message (which you can read for yourself in Matthew 6:8) to point to my Heavenly Father, but I felt like it applied to him, too. Dad usually did know just what I needed, and he was always quick to provide an encouraging word, a sound bit of advice, or even, sometimes, a material gift. Like this tennis racket, which I had not asked for (and clearly did not think I needed):

The best thing my dad ever gave me was an introduction to Jesus Christ. A pillar in the church, a softball coach, and a bright light in our community, Dad came home one night and said he’d been to a men’s meeting where someone explained that it wasn’t about being a “good” person. If you wanted to experience the abundant life here on earth, and then get a ticket to heaven for eternity, you had to have a relationship with Jesus. That was big news to my dad, but when he broke it down for me (starting with the fact that I was a sinner and wrapping up with an invitation to grace), it made perfect sense. I confessed my sins, asked Jesus to be my Lord and Savior, and never looked back.

I was eight years old.

My daddy was only 61 years old when doctors discovered an inoperable, golf ball-sized tumor in his brain. When they started using words like Stage 4 and glioblastoma, we knew there was not much that they could do. We spent the next twelve months singing praise songs, counting pain pills, and letting Dad use what we decided must be Russian words when we played Scrabble, as the malignancy stole more and more of his brain. We also prayed, both for a miracle, and for God to be glorified.

The first prayer, for the miracle, didn’t happen (at least not in terms of a return to physical health, but I guess when you get right down to it, getting to spend eternity in heaven is nothing if not miraculous). But the second prayer, the one for God to be glorified, did. Dad lived well, and he died even better, leaving a legacy of faith for his family and friends. He pointed us down the path where we could grow closer to God in a deep and life-changing way, and he left us secure in the knowledge that we would one day see him again.

I miss my father more than I thought I would, after 15 years. (Grief is funny; you think it’s over, and than it just sort of sneaks up, unannounced, and jumps you.) There have been plenty of times in my own parenting when I wished, more than anything, that I could have my own daddy around, just to talk things over. But, as one friend who knew him put it, “Jodie, you don’t need to talk to your dad. You already know what he’d say.”

And I do. He’d say “Pursue Jesus.” He’d tell me that of all the things I run after in this world—being a better wife and mother, writing a book or a blog that someone might actually want to read, decorating my house with something (anything) other than posters—there’s only one thing that matters, only one thing that lasts.

And he’d be right.

My father would have been 77 today. I don’t know how much time people in heaven have to pay attention to stuff on earth (and I kind of hope it’s not a lot, cuz I’d hate for him to know how bad I still am at tennis), but if my dad does have a chance to check in, I hope he’ll see that I’m still trying. I’m still running hard after Jesus and, even though I trip and fall way more often than I’d like, I don’t plan to quit.

Allen Rundle. 1939-2001. A life well lived.

Friday Prayer for Your Soul

02.05.2016

It’s February.

If you’re like me, you’re flipping through the calendar to see when Daylight Savings Time begins (ugh – we’ve still got like a month to go), you’re tired of your same old sweaters, and your soul is just plain weary.

You need some greener pastures.

I love this painting by my friend, Sally Corpening. It’s called “The Lord is My Shepherd,” and I’m grateful to have this image as a backdrop for our Friday Prayer. Pray this one for yourself, or for someone you know who needs God’s refreshment today:

Heavenly Father,

Thank you for being our shepherd, for giving us all that we need. Let ____ rest in green meadows today; lead ____ beside peaceful streams. Renew _____’s strength. (Psalm 23:1-2, NLT)

Amen

Report Cards

10.08.2015

Two things happened this week to get me thinking about parenting, performance, and our perception of God’s love.

The first was that my friend and fellow parenting author, Jeannie Cunnion, wrote a terrific opinion piece for Fox News. She said that today’s kids feel “overwhelming pressure to get it all right” because their identities – and, in fact, their “lovability” – is linked to their behavior, their accomplishments, and their performance. “If I am good,” the thinking goes, “you will love me more.”

The second thing that happened was that I got my dad’s kindergarten report card.

My mom and John are downsizing, and as part of their domestic purge she is unloading pretty much everything she thinks her kids and grandkids might want. (And more than a few things we might not, like a c. 1978 how-to book on napkin folding that she gave Hillary at one of her wedding showers. But that’s material for another blog.)

Anyhow, I wound up with a box of old photographs and papers. In it, I found this gem:

That’s my dad, Allen Rundle. He was a kindergartner in 1944, and from the marks on his report card (also in the box), he had some growin’ up to do. I was relieved to see that he was clean, but he clearly had a ways to go in a few other areas, including walking (seriously?), using a hanky, and and…wait for it…breathing with his mouth closed.

Oh my gosh. What did my grandmother think, when she got this report? Was she like, “Allen! Close your mouth!”?

That’s how I would have been, if he’d been my boy.

But even if he had sat there, staring at me with his tonsils hanging out, I wouldn’t have loved him any less.

I mean, things like being a mouth breather (or missing a free throw, or flunking a test, or pouring the fat back into the macaroni and cheese, or any of life’s imperfections) don’t make or break our love for our boys. Or our girls. We love our kids just because they are ours.

Which is pretty much what Jeannie writes about in her article. And she brings it around to the bigger picture – the one that has to do with God’s love – by reminding us that nothing we do could make him love us any more, or any less. Because it’s not about what we do. It’s about what Christ did. He’s the one who makes us lovable.

If that idea runs counter to what you’ve always thought, you’re not alone. Most of us have been there – and as Jeannie knows, the performance mindset can make it really tough to be a parent. “I was once the mom who put unbelievable pressure on herself to be a perfect parent setting a perfect example for her kids to follow,” she confides. “And because I wasn’t accepting God’s grace for myself, I couldn’t give grace to my kids.”

I won’t steal any more of Jeannie’s thunder; click here to read the piece for yourself.

I will say that I hope my grandmother was into the whole grace thing. I didn’t want to show you my dad’s whole report card (some family secrets are better kept that way), but she couldn’t have been happy with how he scored on “Originates stories and poems.” (But maybe that’s just hard to do, when you breath through your mouth. I don’t know.)

At the end of the day, though, it all worked out. My dad shut his mouth, learned some rhyming words, and wound up at Harvard Business School. Plus, he married a gal who knew how to make a napkin look like a lobster.

What’s not to love?

Perfect Grace

09.30.2015

So Hillary is now Mrs. Charlie Blakeley, and the wedding was perfect.

Well, maybe not perfect.

Like, the top of the wedding cake slid off in the heat. (But hey, Hillary likes things a little messy and asymmetrical, so I’m chalking that one up as a plus.)

And one of my travel-weary relatives, who got to town too late to make it to the rehearsal dinner, let himself in to what he thought was his rental cottage and climbed into what he thought was his bed. Turns out, he was wrong on both counts (as both he and Charlie’s aunt discovered, much to their mutual surprise, later that night).

Oh – and a stripper showed up at the brunch (a casual affair, held on the beach, where the woman had presumably spent the night) and said that yes, she was in fact with the wedding party, and could she please have a breakfast burrito? Charlie’s mother was standing right there when the gal introduced herself – by trade, not name – to the party hosts. (I guess, after the mix up with the beds, she just figured the newcomer was another one of “those people” from our side.)

But things like these are minor details. Nobody noticed or cared. (Well, nobody except Charlie’s aunt, but I like to think hers was an extenuating circumstance.) And if I’ve learned one thing after throwing two weddings in four months, it’s that no wedding is perfect. At the end of the day (like, as in the literal end of the day, when your husband lies next to you in bed and asks if you baked that wedding cake by yourself), it’s all about grace.

It’s all about grace.

I know that (in my head, anyway) but it’s a lesson I learned all over again from watching Hillary’s cousins, the flower girls. During the rehearsal, Anna Joy and Elizabeth had been told exactly where to stand. The wedding guild gal even taped quarters to the church floor, promising the girls that they could claim them if they stood on the “treasure” the next day, during the ceremony.

Come show time, the girls nailed it: They made it down the aisle, found the quarters, and planted themselves. Everything was perfect – until Hillary and Charlie moved up to the altar to say their vows. At that point, the girls could no longer see what was happening. And whether it was out of obedience or avarice (to an almost-five-year-old, a quarter looms large), Elizabeth was definitely not willing to move her feet. She leaned over as far as she could, straining to catch a glimpse of the action, until I was sure she was going to topple.

And she really might have, had not the beautiful bridesmaid standing next to the girls noticed their struggle. She reached out her hand and pulled them forward, assuring them that it was okay to move just a bit. To me, it was like God said, “See? You can’t keep all the rules, no matter how hard you try. Nobody can. And if you try to make things perfect – standing on your quarter, no matter what – you’re just going to topple over and hurt yourself. That’s why there’s grace.”

(Lest you think I am super-spiritual or that I had this amazing deep convo with God right in the middle of Hillary’s wedding, I need to tell you one thing. The bridesmaid’s name is Grace. And what went through my head wasn’t some long theological observation. It was more like: “The girls can’t stay on their quarters. Thank goodness for Grace.” Bingo. Cue the lightbulb.)

And, in the “Lessons for the MOB” category, I’d venture to say that grace is probably the single most important thing that a bride’s mother needs. (Especially a bride’s mother who happens to be a perfectionist, like some people.) Because here’s the thing: You work like crazy to pull off a beautiful event, and you want it to be “just right.” And when it’s over, you fall into bed, happy and exhausted. You think about how pretty your daughter looked, right down to the “perfect” Tory Burch heels that you found to go with her dress.

And then, just before you turn out the light, you check the wedding hashtag…

Ahhh.

I should have suspected.

I love my girl. And I love God’s grace. Because when it comes to throwing a wedding (or doing anything in life), it’s really the only thing that is perfect.

Paddle Hard

09.01.2015

If you’re a mom (and especially if you’re a mom with an empty or mostly empty nest), you know that there’s nothing better than having all of your chicks in one coop. You love it when “the gang’s all here,” and you’ll do just about anything to make it happen.

For instance, I have one friend who rents a big beach house on some island every year and lets her adult children know that, if they “want” to come, she’ll cover their flight. (Um, that would be a yes.) Another pal keeps a family bucket list in a notebook, with a bunch of must-do’s like “learn to ride a horse” and “get scuba certified” as a way to keep everyone focused, engaged, and (this part is key) participating. And then there are moms like my grandmother. I am pretty sure she faked her own death-watch more than a couple of times, just so we’d come visit, all at once.

From a mom’s perspective, no cost is too high, no scheme too desperate. Which is how I found myself at a local tee shirt shop, having eight matching shirts printed up with the words, “Paddle Hard.”

Paddle Hard has been a family motto of sorts for several years. Robbie likes it because of surfing. I like it because it reminds me of Colossians 3:23, “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart…” And when I got everyone to agree to give me 30 hours of their summer for a “staycation” (two weddings in one year pretty much kills any normal vacation), I decided to co-opt the motto for our staycay theme.

As with most of my grand ideas, there were plenty of holes in this one. Like, who knew you couldn’t put a period in a hashtag? (Well, my kids knew. But why don’t they post this sort of rule someplace where mothers can see it? Like, before they try to be all hip and put it on a tee shirt?)

Anyhow.

The first item on our agenda (because what’s family fun without a typewritten plan, with copies for everyone?) was paddle boarding (because theme). Robbie hadn’t even finished telling us which way to hold the paddle (you’d think that’s a duh, but trust me) when Khaki the lab decided – like, suddenly – to shed her “mostly dead” persona and get with the program.

Khaki is 12 years old, riddled with tumors, and pretty much doesn’t move (unless you count the 27 steps from our couch to her food bowl). She has no idea how to paddle hard…but she wanted to. And her enthusiasm was contagious. Pretty soon everyone was on the water. They even lined up, with minimal groaning, so that I could get in the photo:

We had a wonderful 29.5 hours of good food, good laughter (I’ll share the how-to’s for our favorite game next week), and good conversation about what it means to paddle hard in life – in your relationships, your work, and your time with God. Plus, Khaki survived, which was a definite plus.

Feel free to borrow our motto for your next family gathering. You can even make everyone a handy scripture card, like I did, for when you pass out the agendas.

Or not.

(I thought folks might want to memorize the verse, but from what I can tell, nobody got much farther than “Paddle hard.” But hey. A mom’s gotta try.)

Friday Prayer for Spiritual Fruit

08.14.2015

I saw these peaches at the Charlottesville City Market last Saturday. As irresistible as they look, their gorgeous-ness pales in comparison to the fruit of the Spirit! Use today’s prayer verse to ask God to grow a bumper crop of beautiful virtues like patience and joy in your life today, or pray it for someone you love:

Heavenly Father,

Fill ____ with your Holy Spirit. Let ____’s life be marked by love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. (Galatians 5:22)

Amen.

Friday Prayer for a New Song

08.07.2015

Tired of slogging through the muck of life, looking for a firm place to plant your feet? Turn today’s verse into a prayer and soon you’ll be singing a brand new song:

Father God,

Lift me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and the mire of life’s problems. Put my feet on a rock; give me a firm place to stand. Put a new song in my mouth – a hymn of praise to you! – so that all who see what you have done will put their trust in you. (Psalm 40:2-3)

Amen.

Sexual Assault: Don’t Become a Victim

03.18.2015

This post is the third in a three-part series on sexual assault. Monday’s blog featured a brief review of Wendy Blight’s book, Hidden Joy in a Dark Corner, and yesterday Wendy recapped her story for us (if you missed that post, click here to download a free chapter of the book). I am grateful for Wendy’s perspective, and for her willingness to write these posts. The strategies she offers for staying S.A.F.E. are worth sharing. JB

How I wish someone had shared with me what I’m about to share with you. If they had, perhaps the events of June 7, 1987 would have ended very differently.

A few years ago, Oprah Radio invited me to Chicago to share my story and the facts, statistics, and practical lessons I learned from my experience. I’m sharing that same information with you today. I write this NOT to instill fear but to inform and educate. I invite you to read through to the end…inform and educate yourself… and share what you learn with your friends.

The Facts

Did you know that 1 out of 4 college women are sexually assaulted every year?
Did you know that 1 out of 6 women some time during their lifetime will be the victim of sexual assault?
Did you know that approximately 60% of sexual assaults go unreported every year? And 97% of rapists will never spend a day in jail.

The Effects

Victims of sexual assault are:

3 times more likely to suffer from depression.
6 times more likely to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder.
13 times more likely to abuse alcohol.
26 times more likely to abuse drugs.
4 times more likely to contemplate suicide.

(Statistics taken from RAINN, the Rape, Abuse and Incest National Network.)

Ways to Prevent Becoming a Victim: Be S.A.F.E.

Sexual assault is a crime of 0pportunity!!! What do I mean by that? Rarely is a woman assaulted by a stalker. A perpetrator selects his victim because, by her unintentional actions, she has made herself an easy target. By following a few simple steps, you can avoid being an easy target. I learned some of these first-hand. THE KEY TO AVOID BEING A VICTIM IS AWARENESS; please share these “Be S.A.F.E.” strategies with all the women you know!

S – Avoid Compromising Situations

When you go out….

never leave your drink unattended (alcoholic and non-alcoholic)
never accept a drink from a stranger and accept drinks only when you see the bartender pour it and hand it directly to you
never leave the keys to your home with anyone (valet, service station, car wash)
never be alone with someone you do not know
always be sure a friend or family member knows who you are with and where you are going
be conscious of what you post on social media; never announce you will be alone…anytime or anywhere
use apps that will help contact people when you are in trouble and locate you (for example: Circle of 6 and bSafe)

A – Be Aware of Your Surroundings

know where you are at all times
know what is going on around you
know who is around you
never have conversations within range of a stranger that reveal you will be home alone, closing a business alone, traveling alone, etc.

F – Trust Your Feelings

if your intuition tells you something is not right, pay attention and respond (chills down your spine, hair stands on end, knot in your stomach)
flee if you feel uneasy or uncomfortable
call 911 if you sense danger
never ignore your feelings because they may save your life

E – Don’t Be An Easy Target

secure your home, apartment, and car by locking your doors and windows at ALL times – NO EXCEPTIONS
carry your cell phone at all times and be sure it is charged
never walk alone at night ANYWHERE
never open your door to a stranger and ALWAYS ask for identification when expecting workmen
don’t leave a friend alone … ever
watch what you drink and don’t exceed your limit

Some of these sound simple and obvious. But I violated three of these prevention steps. I had a conversation outside at the pool which unintentionally announced to everyone around me that I would be home alone that afternoon. We left our front door unlocked, which allowed the rapist easy access. I had a “strange” sensation when I walked in the apartment and saw our front door locked because we usually left it unlocked for each other. But I didn’t trust that “feeling” and walked up the stairs right into the arms of an armed, masked man.

What to Do If It Happens to You

Immediately call 911 no matter what your attacker threatens.
Do not change your clothes.
Do not shower or bathe.
Do not brush your teeth.
Do not move or remove any item from the location of the attack.
Write down anything you can remember immediately (race, age, height, weight, hair color, hair length, eye color, distinguishing marks, facial hair, clothes, weapon, odors).
Go to the emergency room.

For help, contact 1-800-656-HOPE, the national hotline for RAINN. Anyone who believes they have been raped or abused in any way can call this number.

This is a message I’ve shared on many college campuses and in radio and television interviews. I invite you to share what you have learned today with those in your sphere of influence…women you care about…it could save a life!

Renovation: When God Grabs the Hammer

01.28.2015

Robbie and I have a shared love for fixer-uppers. Everywhere we move (and we’ve moved a lot), we look for the ugliest or most neglected house we can find, and we make an offer.

One time, we bought a house and raked the leaves in the front yard – a move that soon had neighbors stopping by to admire “what we’d done to the place.” (Yes, it was that bad.) Another time, we added some crown molding to the living room and a wrought iron railing to the front balcony, prompting the former owner’s wife to berate her husband: “See honey? That’s what I wanted to do when we lived here! I kept telling you…”

Poor guy.

And, in the house we currently call home, the hardwood floors rose and fell in so many directions that, if you’d dropped a marble, it wouldn’t have known which way to roll. When the contractor removed the eight shims that he found in the basement (and I use that term very loosely…it was more of a hole dug during Prohibition by an enterprising bootlegger), the floors suddenly dropped into place. Less charm, more structural integrity. It was a trade-off that made Robbie happy.

Suffice it to say, we love making old things pretty again. And right now, as I type, there is a handyman working away on our breezeway, which, thanks to one too many nor’easters in these parts, had begun to rot. At first, I was kind of annoyed by all of the banging (children, dogs, workmen…there’s always something that gets in the way of the Pulitzer), but then I remembered one of my favorite C.S. Lewis quotes. It’s from Mere Christianity:

“Imagine yourself as a living house. God comes in to rebuild that house. At first, perhaps, you can understand what He is doing. He is getting the drains right and stopping the leaks in the roof and so on; you knew that those jobs needed doing and so you are not surprised. But presently He starts knocking the house about in a way that hurts abominably and does not seem to make any sense. What on earth is He up to? The explanation is that He is building quite a different house from the one you thought of – throwing out a new wing here, putting on an extra floor there, running up towers, making courtyards. You thought you were being made into a decent little cottage: but He is building a palace. He intends to come and live in it Himself.”

Wow. That’s a nifty perspective-changer, isn’t it?

Today, if you find yourself with some rotting woodwork or wavy floors in the space that you call your life, or even if there’s something pretty yucky that’s lurking in your crawlspace, don’t worry if the Carpenter comes in and starts making some noise. Renovation can be messy, and even painful sometimes. But hey – you’re becoming a palace!

And I don’t know about you, but I think that’s exciting. (I could definitely use a new tower or two.)

You are Loved

12.10.2014

Like many of you, I have been following the University of Virginia rape story, at sensational, horrific, and (it turns out) inaccurate account published last month by Rolling Stone magazine. As a U.Va. alum with three Wahoo daughters (two have graduated; Virginia is in her third year there now), the school is dear to my heart, and the students dearer still.

Even with the magazine’s reporting now discredited, almost everyone agrees that there are problems that still need fixing: Students drink too much, the “hookup culture” contributes to confusing relationships, and sexual misconduct – while arguably not the norm at U.Va. – certainly takes place, and no matter how you parse the statistics (and there have been dozens of studies trotted out), one rape is one rape too many.

If you’ve read even a handful of my blogs, you know that I don’t use this space for social or political commentary and – despite having a host of strong and not necessarily well-informed opinions – I don’t plan to start spouting off now. I wouldn’t even mention the story except for this photo, which Virginia texted to me early yesterday morning:

YOU ARE LOVED.

That’s message on Beta Bridge, the oft-painted University landmark that doubles as billboard for parties, charity events and often at least this year – community’s grief.

How fitting that words – YOU ARE LOVED – would show up during Advent, season the space between heaven and earth seems to shrink, time we mortals may stop, even just for a moment, to consider how God sees the world. How he sees us. And he longs to breathe new life in our lives, to fill our hearts with hope, and to show us incredibly much are loved.

You are loved. Amid a cacophony from finger pointing – It’s the fraternites’ fault! It’s the administration’s fault! It’s parents the government! The police! – this is at message that cuts through the noise. It’s a message the offers hope. It’s message U.Va. needs to hear.