“Bless those who curse you. Pray for those who hurt you. If someone slaps you on the cheek, offer the other cheek also. If someone demands your coat, offer your shirt also. Give to those who ask: and when things are taken away from you don’t ry to get them back. Do to others as you would have them do to you. If you love only those who love you why should you get credit for that? … He is kind to those who are unthankful and wicked. You must be compassionate just as your Father is compassionate” (Luke 6:28-32, 35b-36 NLT).

Recently I felt bummed about a friend and our relationship. Mad actually. Insulted would be more accurate. Most of the time this friend doesn’t act as if I exist. So maybe I shouldn’t even call her a friend at all.

The more I thought about her actions the more ticked off I got.

I give. She takes. I give. She takes.

She asks. I give. She asks. I give.

She hardly ever says thank you, but that’s okay I guess.

I go out of my way to help her but she only comes to me when she wants something. Most recently she snubbed me for what she thought was a better deal.

Huh! How dare her?

I don’t like her at all, I thought. I’ll show her, I’ll write her off.

So there!

Feeling in a quandary about my decision, I took my messy heart to Jesus hoping He would see my side of the story.

I was in the middle of giving Him my blah, blah, blah, pity-party rant of, what do I do with this person, when He stopped me mid-rant and whispered.

Treat her like I treat you.

I give you My best when you give me your worst.

My Spirit prays on your behalf when you hurt me.

When you ask, I give and give abundantly expecting nothing from you in return.

More times than not, when you come to Me it’s because you need something I have.

There are days you ignore Me, but I’m still there for you.

When you turn your back on Me for what you think is more fun, I call after you.

And wait … patiently.

I love you even when you don’t love me back.

The blinders came off my eyes when I felt the sting of His words piercing through my resistant heart.

I see.

I am her.

She is me.

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When you're not sure what to do, the answer is always love. @Christy_Mobley
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Dear Heavenly Father, Your Spirit continues to open my eyes to what my flesh blinds them to. Though it’s painful to see, it hurts so good. Thank you and please don’t ever stop. In Jesus name I pray. Amen.

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“Yet the Lord longs to be gracious to you; therefore he will rise up to show you compassion. For the Lord is a God of justice. Blessed are those who wait on Him”

I know better. I’ve seen God’s faithfulness. Still, in a season of hard, where I don’t see his answers, it’s easy to let doubt creep in or rather barge in. It’s then, I want to say, “Where are you God? Are you there? Do you care?”

But you and I both know by now we can’t see what God sees and we can’t know what he knows. However, we can trust that when we pray, a plan gets laid. We may not know how and we may not know the when, but we know the will.

He will.

Because it’s in God’s character to answer, and redeem. We see it over and over in Scripture.

When I find myself in the hard place of wait, it’s comforting to read about someone else who has waited there. And that’s why I like the story of Hannah. No one fits the bill of being blessed for the waiting more than Hannah. Her name even means blessed. But at the time of her dilemma, around 1105 BC, she felt anything but.

During Hannah’s time, children were a woman’s legacy — her honor — particularly if she had a boy child. However, if she were barren, like Hannah (the Bible says specifically, in 1 Samuel 1:5 that God closed her womb), you were thought of as less than or even a sinner that God was punishing.

But Hannah was a God-fearing woman, who desperately wanted a child. She probably prayed day and night, wondering why God was making her wait especially when she got bullied for being barren.

Hannah was married to a man named Elkanah. Though Elkanah was a godly man, as was the custom of the time, he had two wives. His other wife was named Peninnah. Now, Peninnah was prolific. She had many sons and daughters. And she was jealous of Hannah because she thought Elkanah loved Hannah more. She viciously picked on Hannah, every chance she got.

Peninnah’s best opportunity to hound Hannah was a yearly trek they all made together to the temple some fourteen miles away. Every year they went there for a festival of rejoicing where sadness was prohibited. By the time a they got to Shiloh, Hannah had been ridiculed to the point of despair and couldn’t eat. One such time she was so hungry and despondent, she went to the temple and poured her heart out to the Lord. She had had enough. Crying out to the Lord for a child, she vowed this baby she prayed for to be dedicated back to God’s service for all the days of the his life.

God knew Hannah would make this costly vow. He also knew she’s make good on it.

Israel needed a righteous judge to rule and Hannah needed to be blessed. So at the right time, God’s time, He answered Hannah’s prayer. She became pregnant with the child, a son she would name Samuel.

And though Hannah gave up her son at the age of three years to the service of the Lord, just as promised, she was blessed.

Samuel would be the greatest judge in Israel’s history anointing Israel’s first king, Saul… and her greatest earthly king, David.

Hannah waited
God waited for Hannah to surrender the very thing she wanted most
God greatly blessed Hannah

In this hurry up, give it to me now world, it’s comforting to know God has a plan. Certain things have to happen for others to take place. There is a purpose for our pain, and God is working in the wait.
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Hannah’s story encourages us to know, God is forever in control.

“Though it linger, wait for it; it will certainly come and will not delay.” (Habakkuk 2:3b)

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My definition of prayer?  A conversation with God. 

My definition of conversation? An informal interchange of thoughts and words between persons.

Now that these definitions are clear may I ask you a question?

Do you ever get distracted and wander when you pray?

Oh boy, I do.  Especially if I’m trying to pray at bedtime. Best cure for insomnia ever!

I might be saying a “thank you” for the day and my words will start mingling with my dream state and I suddenly wake up thinking, Oh dear God, what did I just say to You?  Can I take all that back please? You know I was in the middle of falling asleep.

And of course He knows. God knows everything.

However, my mind has been known to amble fairly easily even when I’m praying first thing in the morning … wide awake! In a litany of requests and petitions, my conscientiousness goes to lunch.

Seriously, I start planning my next meal.

But I’ve noticed, there are times when God is actually doing the distracting.  Where He is interrupting my prayers. I’ll be on a roll talking with God when out of the blue, a crazy-good analogy, sticky statement or blog idea pops into my head and my mind chases it down a trail. 

Once, becoming completely exasperated with myself for what I thought was my bobble-headed wandering, I took this problem to God.

When I actually listened for an answer, my heart heard this response.

It’s okay, I’m entering this conversation by interjecting My thoughts. These ideas are from Me. You’re not wandering as much as  you’re just not listening.

By my own definition, when I pray I’m having a conversation with God. Only I never give Him  opportunity to respond. I guess you could say, He has to interrupt me to get a word in edgewise.

Prayer can be, should be, a two-way conversation. A chat between friends. A communion between Father and daughter. A dialogue between Savior and redeemed.
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A one-way delivery is not a conversation, or even a prayer. It’s more like a speech.

When I put more pausing into my praying, I do less wondering about my wandering.

I get more out of this time with God when I shush-up and listen up.

Because when I’m not listening, I’m most likely missing out.

Perhaps you’re missing out too?

God wants to converse with us, give us His thoughts, ideas, our purpose.

To help me with a real conversation I sit with a journal and pen when I pray, ready to write down what I hear God saying. It's hard to meander away when you're listening intently, expectantly
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“Make me to know you ways O Lord; teach me your paths. Lead me in your truth and teach me, for you are the God of my salvation; for you ai will with all day long” (Psalm 25:4-5).

With all that being said, I think I’ll still stick to the one-sided prayers at bedtime. Saying a few thank you Lord’s before I close my eyes is still the best way to turn off this busy brain. And I know if God wants to enter into the conversation, He will. He knows the address to my dreams.

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All eyes were on me as I took my turn and pranced up the aisle of the church, a bouquet of spring flowers in hand. It was a magical moment each year as I witnessed the metamorphosis of an old ugly cross.

As a child, each February I waited with anticipation for the month March and the azaleas in our yard to bloom. I knew it meant spring was approaching, better than that, Easter was near.

While I loved to dream about the Easter basket that would be left by my bed, Easter egg hunts and chocolate bunnies (like every other kid), my favorite Easter memories don’t include any of those.

The best ones were, the smell of fresh flowers (brightly colored azaleas and snowflake-like bundles from the spirea bush in our yard), and walking up the aisle of the church.

It was there that I helped the other children in our congregation bring beauty to an old wooden chicken-wire covered cross placed by the altar.

Each Sunday during the Lent, the priest read from the Bible and told stories about Jesus’ life, His death and His resurrection on Easter Sunday.

He told us the ugly old cross symbolized our sin and Christ’s death for us.

The bounty of fresh living flowers that we stuffed into the cross symbolized the new life Jesus gave us when He died and rose from the dead.

A metamorphosis in the making.

All winter long I looked forward to the new growth in our yard and the fresh fragrance of new life.

This was the perfect illustration for me as a child as well a sweet memory I will always treasure. Even today when I see azaleas bushes and puffy white spirea blooms I think of the new life, the eternal life, Jesus gave me through an old wood cross.

Easter bunnies and baskets of candy were fun and tasty but they didn’t last. The lessons I learned walking up the aisle of my church with a bouquet of flowers in hand were life changing and everlasting.

Through His death and resurrection, Jesus took our ugly past and gave us a beautiful future. An eternal one with Him.
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“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: the old is gone, the new is here” (2 Corinthians 5:17).

How was the meaning of Easter, what Jesus accomplished on the cross and the gift of eternal life explained to you as a child? I’d love to hear. How have you explained it to your children?

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@christy_mobley gives us a beautiful glimpse of her childhood about the meaning of #Easter. Come read it and LINKUP with us if you are a Christian #blogger!
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One of the first posts I wrote, way back in the day, was a tongue in cheek article about anxiety. I can tease about myself but for most people struggling with anxiety it’s no laughing matter. It’s debilitating.

I gave a talk this summer in which I shared part of my story that had to do with panic and peace.

Two words as far from each other as the east is from the west.

For me, anxiety was just part of my life, my journey through this world. When I stepped off the stage I was taken aback at how many others were on a similar journey still seeking answers on how to daily win the battle with the beast.

As I read today’s lesson on mental health in Rick Warren’s  Transformed devotional, I was reminded of this familiar verse:

“Be anxious for nothing but in everything with prayer, petition, and thanksgiving, let your request be known to God and the peace of God which passes all understanding will keep your hears and minds safe in Christ Jesus. Phil 4:6-7

For the longest time I didn’t do this verse well.

Let me get you up to speed. In case you didn’t catch it earlier,

I have a panic disorder.

There – I said it. Actually it’s not hard to say. Gone are the days where people whispered such things. And yes, I’ve had it since I was a little girl. I’m not sure where it came from. Maybe it’s in my genes, or perhaps it was the loud atmosphere in my childhood home. We were yellers. Lot’s of tension. Let’s just leave it at that.

Anxiety manifests itself differently in children than adults and it wasn’t until I was in college that I had my first full-blown panic attack. Although I didn’t recognize it as such. I just thought I might have a little bit of “crazy” in me.

Special isn’t it?

I’d have seasons of attacks separated by as much as a year or more. I remember before I got married thinking about how I was going to explain my “crazy” attacks to my future husband. But I didn’t have to. The stress of a new marriage brought them in to full view. Thank you Jesus! I mean really, thank you Jesus, because  I was able to get a proper diagnosis and solutions on how to cope.

Though now I could control the attacks for the most part (they make drugs for that,) generalized anxiety continued to plague me well into my early 40’s.

I knew the all familiar verse in Philippians quoted above but I didn’t know why it didn’t work for me.

Early on I started naming it and claiming it. I prayed it. I memorized it. I repeated it. I beat myself over the head with it, as if it was some kind of incantation that would work like magic.

But nothing. Not. A. Thing. Changed for me.

These were empty words on a lifeless page. I didn’t know how to apply the Word to my life.

That is, until the importance of my thought life and focus was explained to me. Yes, peace comes with an attitude of gratitude. But hear me when I say, this is not just about please and thank you. It’s about thanking God for something you can’t see and don’t know exists yet. It’s one thing to speak the words thank you, it’s quite another to feel them. In order to feel them you have to trust the One to whom they’re being given. And that requires a relationship.

As I drawn closer to Jesus, now I don’t just thank Him for what I can see, but I thank Him and trust Him for what I can’t—the place of anxiousness, the space I can’t control—the chasm between “Dear God, help me” and my last Amen. It’s there where the Power is at work. When we pray, God sets a plan into motion.

And peace comes with the belief… it is done.

It is finished— taken care of.

My worry was nailed to the cross 2,000 years ago. I can walk away and trust His will is better than mine. I can let Him work out what I can’t do and turn my focus on what I can.
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And that’s better than an incantation. More powerful than magic. And way better than a little crazy.

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Those were the words I heard concerning a friend a while back. Although I said I’d pray and of course I did, I have to admit when I heard the diagnosis I automatically had a grim outlook on the outcome.

Right off the bat I let my knowledge of human know-how override the know-how of God.

Why would I do that? I absolutely believe that God can do the impossible. So why do I sometimes put so much weight on man’s perspective instead of God’s power?

Probably for the same reasons we don’t witness the miracles here in the U.S. that some see while working in third world countries.

You’ve heard that ignorance is bliss? In this case of faith, ignorance can bless.

A few weeks ago I came across a story in the Bible that explains this misplaced faith. This same reference in Scripture is one that has always disturbed me until recently. The account of this story is given in three of the four Gospels Mark 9:14-50, Luke 9:23-45, and Matthew 17: 14-20. Today we’re going to look at from Matthew’s point of view.

“When they came to the crowd, a man approached Jesus and knelt before him.  ‘Lord, have mercy on my son,’ he said. ‘He has seizures and is suffering greatly. He often falls into the fire or into the water.  I brought him to your disciples, but they could not heal him.’ ‘You unbelieving and perverse generation,’ Jesus replied, ‘how long shall I stay with you? How long shall I put up with you? Bring the boy here to me.’ Jesus rebuked the demon, and it came out of the boy, and he was healed at that moment.

Then the disciples came to Jesus in private and asked, ‘Why couldn’t we drive it out?’
He replied, ‘Because you have so little faith. Truly I tell you, if you have faith as small as a mustard seed, you can say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move. Nothing will be impossible for you’” (Matthew 17:14-20).

I had always wondered why the disciples couldn’t call out this demon. One chapter earlier, in Matthew 10, Jesus had given power to the disciples to heal and exorcise demons and they were doing a fine job at it up until this moment. Did they suddenly lose the faith they had?

Not exactly.

During this time in this culture it was a belief among the Jewish exorcists that one must know the name of the demon if one was to call it out of a person. This demon-possessed boy in the story was mute. No one had ever heard the demon’s name. The disciples knowing this let doubt creep in where their faith had been.

They let their human knowledge override their Jesus given gift.

And maybe we do the same.

We may unequivocally believe God can do the impossible yet waver in the face of man’s scientific data. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, it’s part of the devil’s deception to use man’s knowledge against the One who gave it. @christy_mobley
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This is why the father of the demon-possessed boy came to Jesus and cried out, “I do believe; help me with my unbelief” (Mark 9:24).

And friends, we are to do the same, by putting our pride aside and humbly coming to the feet of Jesus saying, I believe Lord, please help me overcome my doubt. In Jesus’s name, amen.

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When I was pregnant with my oldest son I was diagnosed with an inner ear disorder, Ménière’s disease. “They” (the medical powers that be) thought it was caused by a viral infection I had in college. Wherever it came from, the long and short of it is, it made me dizzy.

In June of 1995 we had just moved from Tallahassee back to Jacksonville and I had a bout of  Ménière’s I couldn’t shake. It wasn’t full on vertigo this time but more like a steady unsteady — like a feeling of no gravity —moon walking even. Trying to take care of two little boys and a husband while feeling more like a person who was floating about and less like one who’s feet were firmly planted on the floor was miserable to say the least. My only relief came with sleep and the words that were in my Bible just an arm’s length away. Without lifting my head I could pull them close. Each morning I’d drink in and savor the hope that would get me through those long summer days.

“To the Lord I cry aloud, and he answers me from his holy hill” (Psalm 3:4).

“He answers me” was a promise I held on to. But when Lord?

Have you ever asked that question: “When Lord?”

Morning after morning I called out to God for healing, waiting expectantly as Psalm 5:3 says. Give ears to my words, God. Then I’d go to another Psalm and pray, “Answer me when I call to you, my righteous God. Give me relief from my distress; have mercy on me and hear my prayer” (Psalm 4:1).

The words from my Bible were soothing. They were my certain in the midst of the uncertain. My stability when everything felt unstable. They gave me the strength to sustain me in the wait.
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During what felt like my endless season of wait, I desperately sought out and connected with others suffering from the same dizzy disorder and then started a support group. In doing so I had the opportunity to share my faith with each member. I also researched and found a physician in the area who specialized in the disease and connected each member with him.

At the end of the summer my balance returned, ever so slowly, much like a fog that lifts with the morning sun.

Would I have gone as far to start a support group if I had had an instant healing? Would I have meditated on God’s words with such vigor? Would I have drawn as close to Him if I did not have those days of wait?

God never wastes a pain. For each one He finds its purpose.

Are you in-between place, anticipating an answer to a prayer? Call out to God in the morning. Find your rest in His promises for God will deliver. Let your anxious heart be calmed for He redeems every situation.

“Give ears to my words, O Lord, consider my sighing. Listen to my cry for help, my King and my God, for to you I pray. In the morning, Lord, you hear my voice; in the morning I lay my requests before you and wait in expectation.” Psalm 5:1-3 (NIV)

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Are the gifts you give the kind you want remembered?

A few years ago around this time I went to a luncheon at the home of a childhood friend. Though we didn’t see each other much during the year we always exchanged gifts on birthdays and Christmas.

Upon my arrival she gave me a tour of her home so I could view all the changes she’d made  since my last visit.

Several times during the house tour she stopped and said, do you remember …  and then pointed to an object I had given her as a Christmas gift – an angel, a candle, a monogrammed towel. I was surprised she remembered each one and also the year it was given.

I nodded graciously as she proudly pointed out each gift. Though I gave them careful consideration at the time I chose them, I didn’t recall them now but my friend remembered each with fondness.

I went home that afternoon and looked around my own home.  I noticed I could do the same. I could point out all the gifts that friends had given me. Each one held a special memory.

Sweet treasures to be remembered.

Our words are gifts too. And every day we give them. Some are carefully thought out. Some are hastily thrown out.

I’ve spoken more than my share of words I wish were forgotten.

A few months after the luncheon David and I attended an engagement party for the daughter of another long time friend. I saw my friend’s husband standing alone (we hadn’t seen him in years) so David and I went over and started up a conversation. We told him about an upcoming trip we were taking for our anniversary. Remembering my friend and her husband were married just six months before us, I congratulated him on their up coming anniversary.

I must have hit a nerve. With a smirk and a not-so-funny chuckle he sarcastically squawked, “Yeah and you said we wouldn’t last a year.”

My face turned crimson and I felt about two feet tall. Having no recollection of such a prediction, I squeaked out a, “Did I really say that to you?”

Well, apparently I did some thirty-odd years ago.

My words were thoughtless, and unfortunatley, ones my girlfriend’s husband never forgot.

That’s how words can be like gifts. We can carefully choose the ones we give in the expectation of encouraging the receiver or thoughtlessly grab whatever’s been haphazardly left on the shelf in our mind.

We need to be aware that just like the material gifts we give, our words can hang around the recipient’s memory for a lifetime. And the words that get remembered are not always the words we want to be remembered by.

In this season of gift giving when we ponder what to give family and friends, let us consider the words we might bestow as well.

We should consider giving the kind we might want someone to give us. Those that are free of malice and contention; words of encouragement that would bring a smile to our face, love to our heart, and forgiveness to our soul.

The good gifts we want remembered.

“There are those who speak rashly, like the piercing of a sword, but the tongue of the wise brings healing” (Proverbs 12:18).

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If I were to describe myself, I’d say I’m your average believer kind of gal. I’m just like your next-door-desert-wandering-Israelite neighbor who witnesses God parting the Red Sea one day and, grumbling, what have you done for me lately, the next.

How soon we forget the everyday workings of God in our lives.

Can you relate?

That’s why I journal everything with vivid detail. The miracles. The places where I see God work, where I see Him come near. Then I go back and savor the sweetness. Remembering how God is true, faithful, and good.  And once again I’m struck with awe and wonder.

This is my recent journal entry about a God thing with a young lady from my church who is now working in the international mission field:

A few Sunday’s ago, I was feeling a little“hangry”after LifeGroup and made a beeline toward the front door of the church trying to avoid the temptation of carbs I found all around me in the foyer.

I almost made it when, out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Susan Freese standing at the AIM booth. All at once I felt prompted to stop. I toyed with the idea of ignoring the heart-prick, I’m sad to say, my stomach will generally (if only temporarily) override my heart.

But today I stopped.

I asked Susan the obvious question, if she was ready for her mission trip to Romania and Eastern Europe. Without missing a beat, she looked me in the eye and asked for prayer concerning a letter of invitation. (This is a letter that certain countries require in order to obtain a Visa to enter.) It all sounded very mysterious to me when Susan said that time was running out and she had no contact with this country, other than a missionary and an interpreter who she had never spoken with. Nonetheless, to Susan’s credit, she was trusting God to make it all work out.

I told Susan I had a friend (Judy) who once lived in this Eastern European country as a missionary but it had been some time ago, however maybe she’d be able to offer some advice. I told her I would connect with Judy and then scurried out the door before my hunger got the best of me.

A day went by, I got busy and didn’t make the call. Another day blew by, same thing. But in the back of my mind, Judy’s name kept popping up with the prompting, you need to call, you said you’d call.

I decided to email.

I explained to my longtime friend who Susan was and the letter of invitation predicament, hoping she could shed some light. She promptly answered and wrote that Susan could email her, but that she was meeting with two women from an international ministry group the next day and she didn’t know when she could reply. She went on to explain that she was supposed to meet with these women, Leah and Sveta three days earlier, but had a migraine – so it was put off.

I thought, ‘I can’t remember all that.’ So, I copied and pasted her email and sent it to Susan, thinking I did my part. I’m done.

Susan emailed back immediately and wrote, “You are NOT going to believe this, Christy!! The women who I am working with on this trip are named Leah and Sveta. The group I’m speaking to is an into-national ministry group. The woman who I mentioned was traveling this weekend (and who is to be traveling with the letter of invitation) is Sveta – my translator! I’ve not spoken to her. All contact has been through the missionary. I’m blown away at how God is in the details of our life.”

Not believing what I just read, I copied and pasted Susan’s response and sent it to Judy.

Judy’s response?

“Wow – no way!”

Me? 

I got goosebumps.

If Judy had not had the migraine for three days she would have already met with Leah and Sveta, but as it was, she was now meeting with them the next day.

Coincidence? I think not.

That night I went to bed with more peace than I have ever known. I felt the awe and wonder of God’s power and presence. It was as if I could see Him watching over me. He was there in each email and every text. It was a huge privilege and honor to play a small part in God’s much bigger, grander picture. 

Judy met with the two women the next day and Sveta indeed had Susan’s coveted letter of invitation, which Judy helped her overnight to Jacksonville.

Friends, God wants to meet you and me every day in this kind of personal way. He’s just waiting for us to say yes. Yes, to God. Yes, to the prompting of His Spirit.

You’ve got mail …

Your letter of invitation is waiting.

“I desire to do your will, my God.” (Psalm 40:8a)

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May I be frank? I’ve been in the pits lately. I feel less like a human and more like I’m a ping pong ball. My circumstances have been bouncing my emotions all over the place. I think I might seriously have whiplash! Maybe that’s why my back has been hurting me…

This is an example of what I mean—how my week might play out.

I win a tennis match and I’m all confident and happy—for a while—sometimes for an entire day.

But then I get a rejection on something I’ve written and my confidence goes out the window. Bye, bye winning match. In a heartbeat I go from winner to loser. Now I’m bummed.

We get a call from our CPA telling us we overpaid our taxes. Yeah baby! Cloud nine. What relief, right?

Then hubby walks in all stressed over something at work and well, I get stressed too. He gets grumpy. I get grumpier.

Ahhh, but then someone leaves an encouraging comment on my blog and suddenly, I have purpose. I have worth again.

Up and down, up and down. Back and forth, back and forth. Oh mercy! See what I mean?

Your week may play out with different circumstances but can you relate?

This is not a way to live.

And when there are more difficult circumstances than good ones, we live in danger of getting stuck in the negative mode where anxiety and or depression can take a foothold. Honestly I think that’s where I’ve been.

It’s times like these we need to be praying like mad but it’s also times like these where we just don’t want to—we don’t feel like it.

I don’t believe for a minute God intended for us, His children, to live this way, though probably most of us know this bouncing around as reality and take it for granted. But since I’m being frank, let me say,

I’m frankly tired of it.

And I don’t like getting stuck in a hard place waiting on, no, depending on, a positive event to appear to pull me out. But sometimes that’s what I do.

The sum total of our circumstances don’t make us who we are so we shouldn’t let them control our attitude towards life or the way we react to it.

We think certain things in life will satisfy and we put high value into these. For me that might look like, winning a tennis match, getting a writing gig, having enough money for whatever (but what is really enough?) It could be everything going smoothly with my husband’s work, or being invited to a certain this or that. You can fill in your own blanks. But these “things” only satisfy temporarily, because God has set eternity in the heart of man. (Ecclesiastes 3:11)

Our hearts are searching to be satisfied with a love relationship only God can fulfill.

When I drift away from centering on this truth I lose my focus and get jerked around by these fake values I’ve set up.

What I typically do when I feel this way is bring myself back to center by realigning my gaze on what I know is certain and factual: Fact (Truth) is what has been proven to me through Scripture and personal experiences where I’ve seen God at work in my life. It’s what I believe. Beliefs guard our attitudes and keep our emotions in check.

I believe God is sovereign. Psalm 135:6

I believe He has a purpose for me. Philippians 2:13

I believe He wants us to enjoy life. John 10:10

I believe He answers prayers. 1 John 5:15

I believe His ways are higher than my ways. Isaiah 55:9

Things on this side of heaven are never going to be perfect. We will always want what we don’t have and we will never have enough. This is human nature. Out hearts long for something the world can’t give— intimate relationship with our heavenly Father.

So let us not place worth on what doesn’t satisfy. Instead, let’s place worth on the truth of who God is and His love for us. When we do, we’ll feel a gravitational pull that brings us back to earth, grounding us and protecting us from that next circumstantial lightening strike.

Acknowledging our beliefs keeps us centered. It doesn’t mean we won’t be bounced around sometimes, just maybe not so hard and far.

God meant for us to find our satisfaction solely in Him and not in our circumstances as they are and will always be like shifting sand.

“He has also set eternity in the human heart; no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.” (Ecclesiastes 3:11 NIV)

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