Ann B. Hibbard

I Love Your Home

Posted on November 20, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

I needed this reminder right now. Some of the clutter of our home had gotten out of control (we’re working to tame it again), and in the process I definitely lost my love for home.

Most of you are probably looking at the title and thinking, “But you’ve never seen my home!” And you’re right. I haven’t. But I love it. Why? Because it’s part of you. It reflects your personality and passions in so many ways.

I used to be ashamed of my home. I’m not a great housekeeper, and I can’t really decorate. If you walk into my home at any given time, there will be clutter. Despite my love for organization, my house will be unorganized. You might arrive on a day when the bathrooms have been cleaned recently or the trash cans emptied. But, it might also have been a few days since either was done. And the fact that housework gets done at all is a testimony to the willingness of my children to participate in household chores.

So, for those who love a spic and span, well-organized house, I’ll give you fair warning: You won’t find that within these doors. But, you’re welcome anyway, because it would give you a chance to get to know my family a little better as you walk in and see the combination of our personalities poured into our living space.

That’s what I’d find in your home, too, isn’t it? Personality reflected in your space? And that, my friend, is why I love your home, even if I’ve never seen it.

I remember one year when my family joined hundreds of other Arkansans for a one-day mission trip to southwest Arkansas. My daughters and I, joined by three others, spent four and a half hours prayer walking one portion of the town. The thing that stood out to me the most was how closed up all of the houses were. Closed windows. No screen doors – just closed, solid doors. Closed garages, even when the occupants were home. Back yards closed off by privacy fences, such that even if the residents were playing together in the back yard, it was impossible to see.

It brought me face to face with the reality of our culture today: so many of us rarely see the inside of one another’s homes. We rarely get the chance to know one another on that level. And I am as guilty of that as the next person. I live much of my life behind closed doors as well. Although I’m always happy to welcome others into my home, I don’t go out of my way to make sure they know my home is open.

Because our homes reflect our personalities, our closed homes reflect our tendency to close ourselves off from one another. We hole up inside ourselves and hide what we consider to be a mess. We don’t want others to see our clutter – whether it be physical, emotional, or spiritual. We want to be particular about what we share.

Honestly, as an introvert, it makes me a bit nervous to think of living with an open home, because I need my protected space. And, there will be times when I must close my doors and focus on just my family. But, I want to be more open. I want to welcome others in more readily. I want others to see the real me.

And I want you to know that I love the real you. Yes, I really do love your home!

Marriage

The Unexpected

Posted on November 18, 2024November 17, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

As empty nesters closing in on our 26th wedding anniversary, we are a long way past needing babysitters for date nights or weekends away from home. But a lot of this still rings true as we recognize our need for intentional time together, not to mention our unexpected discoveries in this new phase of life!

A few weeks ago, my husband and I had what many would consider an ideal date weekend. And it was, indeed, a lot of fun.

We left the kids with my parents on Thursday and headed out of state for a conference. The conference ended Friday afternoon, so we started the first leg of our trip home, stopping halfway for the night. We could have made it all the way to my parents’ that night. But we chose not to. We chose to enjoy some extra time together.

Friday night we ate supper in our hotel room and enjoyed a nice, quiet evening.

Saturday we took our time getting up and going. We wanted to time our traveling perfectly to enjoy lunch at PF Changs, our standard “no-kids” destination, before reuniting the family.

Yes, it was a lovely weekend.

Even so, the next weekend I felt as if I’d missed date night for a couple of weeks. I was so ready for our typical Friday night at-home date time.

Unexpected Plans

I laughed as I contemplated this sentiment. You see, our first at-home date was chosen because we had no other option. At the time, we thought dates meant finding babysitters and getting out of the house. But that did not happen very often, thanks to lack of budget and babysitters. Despite the marital advice to date frequently, there were years when our anniversary celebration was the only date we enjoyed.

Until our eighth anniversary.

That year we had no child care. We had no options. So, we picked up take-out and prayed that our children would cooperate. And God answered.

But I see now that there is even more to the story.

Unexpected Desires

You see, this idea that a “real” date involves leaving the children and going out has remained prominent in my mind. Our weekly at-home date is simply what we do in the in-between times while we wait for the chance to get away.

But, last month it dawned on me that even when we have our getaway opportunities, we still crave that at-home date night. Even if we have the chance on a Tuesday to be away somewhere, we still want to stop and be together at home on Friday night. We have come to crave that time of putting aside work and obligations and interactions with everyone but each other. We find rest in those few hours.

That realization was very unexpected.

Handling the Unexpected

Marriage is like that. It introduces the unexpected. We discover things about ourselves, our spouses, and our lives that we never would have known otherwise.

So, how do we handle the unexpected?

We have two choices when the unexpected washes over us.

We can respond in disbelief, assuming that this new discovery cannot possibly be accurate because it’s not the standard answer.
We can embrace is, allowing it to open our minds and train us to think outside the box regarding our marriages and our lives.

Date night is such a little thing. But nearly seven and a half years ago, we allowed ourselves to think outside the box by being willing to try to date one another at home. That one decision opened the door to many realizations about ourselves. It allowed us to think outside the box in bigger situations. And, it encouraged us to embrace the unexpected.

How can you embrace the unexpected in your marriage?

Thoughts from Life

Silence

Posted on November 15, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

I’ve shared a lot lately about my struggle with writing. Too many words. Not enough words. Thoughts not coming together or not fitting the time. But, those aren’t the only issues. This political season and the nature of our division (not a historical first, by the way, either politically or religiously) also highlight another reality for me: sometimes I feel like there’s no way to truly reflect what’s going on in my head, so I stay silent.

The first time this struggle hit me very tangibly this was years ago when we were in a rough ministry season. I had a lot of thoughts. (My children would emphasize this power of this by capitalizing Thoughts and adding some type of trademark or copyright character to it. I love that!) And I wanted to process and even publish those thoughts. But, I knew that doing so could cause major issues. The things I said could, and most likely would, be misunderstood by people who could easily use them against my husband, if not my whole family.

So, what did I do? I stayed silent.

Unfortunately, the silence didn’t limit itself to those particular thoughts. I began to feel like I couldn’t say meaningful enough things for holidays or special occasions. So, where I once wrote sweet birthday greetings or extensive blog posts celebrating my husband and children…I pulled back on my words. Eventually, even there, I became silent.

Most recently, I’ve been silent regarding politics. Honestly, this is not new. I hate politics. Always have. I do not like the arguments and the debates. I’ve never been the quick-witted type of person who can enjoy them, much less readily participate in them. If I have the time to come up with my perspective, I can word it well. But, when it’s challenged, I need time to process and evaluate before I respond.

The sharp-tongued political scene does not lend itself to the “release my thoughts and then step back and let people do with them as they will” approach. It is, by nature, a back-and-forth, debate-and-argue area. An arena where I don’t fit.

So I stay silent.

The problem is that my silence still speaks. It lends itself to people assuming I agree or disagree with them simply because of my race, gender, religious affiliation, or “station” in life. But the truth is so much more complex. People I love dearly have aligned themselves with Democrats, Republicans, and various third parties. Other precious ones can’t really get behind any of the above. I have mentioned before that I am, by nature, an empath. A mediator of sorts. I hate arguments and debates partially because I am better at seeing multiple sides of a situation than I am at arguing one side or the other. I like mediating and helping people come together. See each other. Learn to love one another despite differences.

But that often leaves me seeming wishy-washy and as if I have no convictions of my own.

The truth is that I have strong convictions. Convictions that don’t fit neatly into any box. Convictions that would probably make the debaters on all sides somewhat angry with me because I didn’t agree enough with any of them. I’m not wishy-washy. I’m just weird. And it’s hard to express my weirdness without causing problems.

So I stay silent.

I honestly don’t know how to fix this. There are times I wish I had said things during the weeks leading up to the election. Times I wish I’d stood up to the hate seething from all sides. Times I wish I’d been able to make comments that helped entrenched minds stop and think about what they were saying. Not because I felt like I was right and they were wrong. But because I wanted to help them process how their words were impacting others.

I wish most of all that I’d spoken up more against the venom spewed by those who claim the Name of Christ. Those who have pushed people away from Him because of their approach to the political season. (And yes, I personally know people who are now much more closed to the Gospel because of the behavior of Christians during the election season.)

But I felt like my words would just cause more arguing. So, I stayed silent.

You can ask my family — I misspeak a lot. I say the wrong thing. I cause pain with my words. I respond in misunderstanding. I make comments, realize that what I’ve said reveals my ignorance, and wish I could take it back. I delete comments on social media or in private chats, even though I know deleting them won’t change them. I often even refrain from trying to explain myself because I know it will come out wrong.

It feels better to stay silent.

Except that there is a message I hold that must go out. It will not be popular. It will be misunderstood. And I may not express or explain it well. I will probably use the same words that others have used — words that trigger pain for people who have been abused by those claiming the Name of Christ — because I don’t know what other words to use. And, as a result, I will feel as if I, too, am misusing His Name.

That fear holds me back and makes me want to stay silent even in this. But I cannot. It is not better to stay silent when I know the words of life. I know the Giver of life. I know the One who can cause all of His children, even those who disagree politically, to live in unity. And when I hold this knowledge back silently because I’m afraid of saying it wrong, again, I’m living in sin.

Ouch.

I cannot stay silent.

My prayer is that I will learn to speak. I will learn to carry the words of the Spirit on my tongue and in my fingertips. That I won’t worry about what arguments or debates I spark by those words but will instead let the Spirit work His miracle through me, letting others see the love of Christ in me no matter how the words challenge and penetrate. Because I don’t want to give my opinion and my words. I want to give His.

I want to no longer be trapped in silence. Oh, Lord, let me become Your voice instead!

Thoughts from Life, What I Do

Editing

Posted on November 13, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Lately, I’ve carried around thoughts that have been weighing on me for a while. Ideas that I’ve wanted to share but haven’t been sure how to. One day, the thoughts finally flowed. It worked. I was able to tap out hundreds of words. I won’t say it was easy, but it definitely didn’t feel like struggle and strain that had been plaguing me.

That is an oddity in my writing, to be honest. Some of it I can tap out quickly, edit quickly, and then post without concern. Some of it I can tap out quickly, but editing is a different story. It needs to sit and wait at least a day, and sometimes much more. A week or even a month or two. I process by blurting out my thoughts as quickly as they come, but then I am able to prayerfully review, asking the Lord for wisdom, guidance, and clarity as I edit and rewrite.

Some thoughts I tap out quickly then never publish. Others I labor over, starting and then stopping, somehow knowing when it’s finally solid. And then there are the times when the laborious approach means I never get around to finishing at all, which is what I’d feared would be the case with these recent thoughts. Sometimes that’s fine. Other times, it leads me to silence when I should be getting my thoughts out there.

In my younger years, I was a lot quicker to publish than I am these days. I wrote, edited, and then clicked that little button without much thought. Then I hit a stage of life where I doubted everything I wrote. So, even when I wrote and edited, I second guessed whether or not I should publish. More often than not, I never did, even with the most simple of posts.

I’m now coming back to the center of the pendulum swing, sometimes writing quickly and confidently and other times thinking and pondering a little more deeply. Obviously, I’m still learning. There are many things I say poorly. There are things I say that I shouldn’t. And other things that I should say but don’t. But I’m learning.

And I’m always editing. Always.

For today’s post, the question guiding both my writing and my editing is…what is the point? Why am I even writing this? (For the record, that sometimes shuts me down as well — I realize that I’m just jabbering with no real point.) I think the answer is this: our words are important. They matter. They should be shared. But they should all be shared carefully. Even the most mundane of statements needs to be held up against the backdrop of God’s Word.

It all needs editing.

I don’t always run a quick edit on my thoughts before they jump verbally from my mouth. I don’t always edit a text, Discord, or social media message before I hit enter. As a result, I often make huge mistakes despite innocent intentions. I cause hurt when I only wanted to help.

Editing doesn’t always solve that problem, but my goal is that I’ll learn more and more to heeding the Spirit’s guidance in editing every word I say or type. That I will listen to Him first. That I will be His conduit more than just someone who jabbers and writes.

Editing is the best avenue I know to accomplish that. It slows me down and makes me think.

Yes, I think that’s the point today. And it’s why you get this post today instead of the thoughts I’ve written but still need to process. Because editing is always important, and I want to be faithful to edit under the Lord’s guiding hand, whether I’m talking about editing or processing much deeper thoughts.

Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Scripture

Able To Aid

Posted on November 6, 2024November 5, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

In full disclosure, I’ve been in a dry season when it comes to drawing from Scripture right now. I read faithfully. I process as best I can. But I’m struggling to draw out and engage with truths. In times like this, I find that going back and reviewing past journaling and writing is a huge help. It reminds me that this is just a phase and that sometimes I need to revisit old lessons and remember what I’ve forgotten. This just “happened” to be the old post I clicked on yesterday, and it was a reminder I so greatly needed in that moment. God is so faithful that He directs even my random clicks. I am thankful.

Some mornings as I sit down to process through my readings, I get sidetracked. This form of sidetracking isn’t by glancing at e-mails or Facebook, texting with a friend, or anything like that (although I confess that does happen far too often). In this particular instance, I’m referring to getting sidetracked by a verse that isn’t really part of the “point” for the day.

Then again, maybe it is. God has a funny way of doing that.

This week, the distraction was a passing devotional reference to a verse in Hebrews. It’s easy for me to get lazy and just ignore passing references like that, so years ago I determined to be intentional about looking up those references every time. Here’s what I read when I looked up this particular verse:

For since He Himself was tempted in that which He has suffered, He is able to come to the aid of those who are tempted. Hebrews 2:18 NASB (emphasis mine)

As I read these verses, I realized that I’ve always had an incomplete foundation when it comes to temptation. Had I ever stopped to process my understanding of how we are to biblically handle temptation, I would have realized that my foundation lacked something. But, until this week, I never gave it a second thought.

Here’s the foundation I’ve always had:

James 1 teaches that temptation is not of God, and I must flee it.
1 Corinthians 10:13 shows me that God will provide a way of escape from temptation.
I still fall to temptation, but the blood of Jesus covers me, and I can come before Him in repentance and receive forgiveness even when I do not take the way of escape.

But, looking at Hebrews 2, there’s something else I was missing. Another crucial truth: I don’t have to run away on my own strength. I don’t have to find the escape with my own clouded vision. Jesus is able (and therefore willing) to come to my aid!

That is so logical. It’s so clear. It’s nothing really new. Yet, how often do I act on it?

I confess, often when I’m struggling against temptation, I feel too weak to even look for the way of escape. But my precious Savior has not left me to do it on my own. He is ready and able to help. I just have to call on Him.

He is my way of escape.

We cannot fight temptation on our own. We do not have the strength. (If we did, we wouldn’t need Christ’s salvation.) Only with the Spirit living within us can we walk through the escape provided. But in the ugliness of our temptation, we don’t feel able or worthy or permitted to call upon the purity that is Jesus Christ.

But oh how opposite from truth that is!

No, we’re not worthy, even at our best. But able? It only takes a plea for help! Oh, and the most glorious part is that we’re not only permitted, we’re invited. Welcomed. Encouraged. Admonished. Instructed. Commanded, even, to call upon Jesus.

And how do we remember that in the throes of temptation? How do we fight the darkness enough to convince ourselves that we can call upon Jesus for aid? By memorizing this verse now (and maybe a few around it – the whole context is powerful!), putting it in our arsenal so the Spirit can bring it to our minds in the moment of weakness.

He is able to come to my aid. Oh what a glorious truth!

Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Scripture

A Light to My Path

Posted on November 4, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Over the course of the next week, I’ll wrap up another slow read through Psalm 119. So, this seemed to be an appropriate time for this reminder…and to republish this old post.

How many of us memorized Psalm 119:105 as children?

Your word is a lamp unto my feet and a light unto my path.

I can hear the lessons that go along with it, too. “Remember children, if you follow God’s Word, your path will always be lit.”

Yet, as with many verses we snag and cling to, it’s so easy to miss the bigger context. Even though context has been drilled into my head, I still make that mistake. I jump on the familiar and miss the fullness of what’s being said.

It’s especially easy to do that with Psalm 119 because it’s a long chapter with so many great nuggets. But this psalm – actually one of my all-time favorites – is more than just a long chapter full of one-liners. In reality, Psalm 119 is a Hebrew acrostic celebrating Scripture.

Have you ever noticed the little heading above each section? Headings like “aleph” and “beth” – all the way through to “tav” at the end. Those are the letters of the Hebrew alphabet. Each of the eight-verse sections, when read in Hebrew, starts with a different letter of the alphabet. Each line in that section starts with the same letter. So, Psalm 119 is a poem celebrating God’s word – a beautiful poem with twenty-two stanzas.

Recently, I read back through this psalm again, two or three sections a day. This slow reading forced me, once again, to ponder the relationship between the lines, the connection and flow of the poem. Psalm 119:105, for instance, is the first verse of the “nun” stanza. This verse ties in with the next seven verses to create a single train of thought regarding Scripture.

105 Your word is a lamp to my feet
And a light to my path.
106 I have sworn and I will confirm it,
That I will keep Your righteous ordinances.
107 I am exceedingly afflicted;
Revive me, O Lord, according to Your word.
108 O accept the freewill offerings of my mouth, O Lord,
And teach me Your ordinances.
109 My life is continually in my hand,
Yet I do not forget Your law.
110 The wicked have laid a snare for me,
Yet I have not gone astray from Your precepts.
111 I have inherited Your testimonies forever,
For they are the joy of my heart.
112 I have inclined my heart to perform Your statutes
Forever, even to the end.

Can you see the image of a heavily burdened child of God as you read these verses? He’s attacked and overwhelmed by enemies. But, God’s Word alone keeps him on the path. God’s Word strengthens his heart. God’s Word prevents him from allowing his troubles to derail him.

When I consider verse 105 in this context, I realize that it does not say that God’s Word is a lamp to our feet on a well-trodden, familiar path that just looks a little strange in the half-light of dusk.

No, this is a strange path filled with uncertainty. Doubt haunts every step. Will our feet land in safety? Or is there a trap? Will we trip on something? Or will be continue on with solid footing?

Oh, and it’s dark all around us. So very dark. The only true light we have is from God’s Word. Period.

But here’s the best part: God’s Word is enough. More than enough, in fact. His Word is the only light we need to keep us from going astray from His precepts.

May we never stop with our childhood memories of well-known Scripture. May we instead dig ever deeper, discovering the power of gems like Psalm 119:105.

Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

The Place of Impact

Posted on November 1, 2024November 1, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

If you’ve ever sought out advice about how to read the Bible, you’ve probably received a wide variety of recommendations. Some will suggest that you should read the Bible straight through from cover to cover every single year. Or, if not cover to cover, then in chronological order. But, definitely the whole thing. Every year.

Others suggest that if you read that quickly, you’ll miss details. So, you should focus in on individual books of the Bible and take as long as you need to explore them from year to year. It might be three, five, or more years before you get through the whole Bible, but the close focus is more important than getting all the way through.

As with much advice passed around in life, advice about how to approach Bible reading is frequently presented as one or the other with no in-between. There’s a right way and a wrong way. Which one are you going to pick?

If I’ve learned anything about advice over the years, it’s that the real solution is rarely black and white. It almost never falls to one extreme or the other. The best spot is somewhere in the middle. With Scripture reading, it’s a both-and approach. Get the big picture and get the details. We need both.

Recently, though, I realized that even that is not complete advice simply because it’s not a one-time thing. It’s not a situation of reading the Bible through one year to get the big picture, then slowing down from then on to get the details. It’s important to go back and forth. Get the big picture, get the details, then apply the details back onto the big picture again. And repeat. Again and again and again.

This reality was highlighted for me when preparing to teach a lesson from Philippians 3. All of it. Crammed into one short lesson.

Now, I love Philippians. It’s such a practical epistle, giving solid instruction. It’s also so…cheerful. It makes me smile and reminds me that healthy community is possible. But, let me tell you, there is a lot packed into that short epistle. And as I studied, I was overwhelmed by it all. I know Philippians well, having studied it deeply on multiple occasions. I have explored the big picture. I’ve focused on the details. I’ve studied and explored and learned so very much.

In this particular instance, though, that knowledge was working against me. I spent the entire week trying to figure out how to summarize the details of a whole chapter and do it in a way that was coherent and meaningful for a youth Sunday school lesson. I never could quite get it. It wasn’t until Sunday morning, day of the lesson, that I finally had my “aha” moment. I finally remembered to step back again. To take in the context of the whole epistle. To see where chapter 3 fit into the overall flow.

(To be completely transparent, I’m pretty sure the Spirit had been whispering that to me all week, but I’m pretty hard-headed sometimes and don’t listen well.)

As soon as I stepped back, the patterns showed up. I began to see how the various parts of chapter three all intertwined. No, we didn’t have time for the details. But we had time for a meaningful lesson.

I don’t say all of this to give my own brand of advice. I share this to remind us to wash all advice, especially advice on walking with Christ, through the lens of experience. Activity. Actually doing the walking while following the leadership of the Holy Spirit. A novel concept, I know.

We often don’t know what we’re missing in our studies of Scripture until we are pressed to share what we’ve learned with other people. Likewise, we don’t really see what’s missing in a lot of our pat spiritual answers until we’ve had to drag our methods, beliefs, and preconceived ideas through the realities of life. And sometimes those realities are a little messy — muddy, even.

My one-week experience of studying Philippians 3 for a Sunday school lesson was a small drop in the bucket of my overall life. But, that experience very much exemplifies how I need to pattern my life as a follower of Christ. The big picture view of Christian experience, idealistic though it may be, is very critical to our growth. The nitty gritty details — represented by our focus on how the Word and our faith speaks into today’s challenges, needs, and struggles — are also critical. Both grow us. They hone our listening skills and help us see Christ at work all around us, at every turn. In all honesty, though, they tend to limit us to a combination of idealism and very specific, personal application.

If we’re going to impact the world around us and give our neighbors a vision of Christ’s love for them, we have to move beyond both idealism and personal application. Fortunately, when we allow the Holy Spirit to be active and alive within us, He has the ability to merge the two and communicate the powerful love of God to those around us in a way that speaks to their own idealism and personal needs. He can handle using our growth to speak into the messy realities of the lives around us.

That’s where I want to live. In the place where both my big picture idealism and detailed experiences can truly be used by the Spirit to impact the life of another.

Thoughts from Kids

Giving Life

Posted on October 30, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

I’m struggling to find words. Not ideas. Just the words to share those ideas in a way that is kind and loving and not grumpy or angry. I’ve written and rewritten. Edited and tweaked. Debated.

You see, I have a component to my personality that can sometimes be beneficial, but other times it’s a bit of a nuisance. I can easily see multiple perspectives of a story. I can understand, and even empathize with, two sides of an argument — yes, even when my own opinions fall heavily on one side or the other. While I can’t always envision how our actions and words will ripple into the future (my husband is a genius at that!), I can see multiple responses to situations happening in the moment. And in this moment, that vision is breaking my heart. And I want to share it so other people can understand. But can I? Here’s my attempt, feeble though it may be.

We’re heading into the time of year when stories of generosity will flood our media. We’ll be drawn to the heartwarming tales of people whose lives were impacted by extravagant gifts as well as to the people or organizations that make those gifts happen.

We as Christians love to not only hear these stories but to also find a way to be a part of these stories. We want to show how we are being the generous hands and feet of Jesus. On the one hand, it’s not a bad thing to be active participants in these stories. But there’s another side to this tale that we also need to consider, and that’s the side of the everyday people who are watching as we broadly and boldly declare our generous acts for all to see.

We need to consider the grocery store cashier or restaurant server who is hoping and begging for enough hours to simply pay their bills. They have no clue how they’ll go beyond that and be able to give gifts to their loved ones. But, they watch as the church crowd floods their workplaces, still dressed in our Sunday best and talking about the sweet time we had blessing gifts to be sent out to the uttermost parts of the world. But, even as we talk about our own generosity, we’ve already turned off our Christ-like attitudes to the people serving us. We are rude. We are demanding. And we are the opposite of generous. They watch as we come into their stores or to their teller windows harried and grumpy. They deliver our packages or take our customer service complaints. We end up taking out our frustration on them because they are…there. They’re just faces waiting to meet our needs or voices on the other end of the phone call to hear our complaints. It’s not that we’d ever admit to seeing them as sub-human. It’s just that we don’t stop and think of them as individuals with their own joys and hurts and struggles and passions. They’re just there to take care of our immediate needs, and then we move on and they keep on. As a result, we’re not careful with how we handle their hearts.

The thing is, they see us. They hear our conversations and see the news flashes about how we’ve delivered Thanksgiving meals to the poor, packed Christmas shoe boxes, fulfilled Angel Tree wishes, and more. They see how we broadcast our giving. They see the pretties we put on picture-perfect social media. The stories that go up in shining lights because they make us feel good. (Matthew 6 kind of punches me in the gut right here.) But then they feel the brunt of our reality. Our harried lives. Our stresses and strains. Our hurts that twist our actions. All of which we end up taking out on them.

It’s may not be intentional on our part. It’s just…life.

But maybe that’s my point. My heart is aching because of the way we live life. It’s aching because we are so concerned that other people know we’re participating in the socially acceptable modes of alms-giving that it distracts us from the act of giving life to others. Because what better gift could there be?

And yet, in many cases, we’re giving the opposite. We’re giving hopelessness. We’re removing the chance for so many people to see the goodness of God because we’re focused on our heartwarming stories instead of on speaking love into their everyday stories of hurt. They don’t see God’s goodness lavished on them. They just see that they’re not worthy of it. They perceive that God only wants to give when it makes for a good story, and they’ll never be a good enough story.

Ouch.

I’m not saying that we should stop our generosity. When we are able to give gifts this time of year, they do make a difference, as they do when we help meet needs of teachers and students at the beginning of a school year or take action to help alleviate the massive food insecurity that exists right around us.

But I can’t help but wonder what would happen if we would put more energy into daily life-giving than into making sure our community knows what kind of gift-giving we’ve chosen this year. What would happen if we were to bestow kindness upon the store clerk who rings up the gifts we’re purchasing? What would happen if we were able to deliver a Thanksgiving meal without making the recipient feel the shame that comes from needing it in the first place?

What if instead of trying to engage in elaborate, life-changing events, we were to change the way we live our daily lives? Could it be that we wouldn’t need the elaborate because the daily, mundane activities would make the difference? It would be without fanfare. It might not even make for a feel-good story to share. But it could give life. What better gift exists?

Marriage

Pruning or Chopping?

Posted on October 28, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

This is another old post that I’m republishing. I’ll say more about it at the end.

I’ve always loved hydrangeas. They fascinate me. I’m typically not a flower gal. I’m not great at keeping plants alive anyway, and as pretty as flowers are, I just don’t have what it takes to maintain them.

Black irises and hydrangeas are the exception. Black irises grew wild in Jordan, and we would go on wild flower hunting trips every spring, coming home with trunks full of irises and poppies. So, although I have not yet managed to get mine to bloom, I’m still determined to successfully grow and tend black irises.

Hydrangeas are another story completely. They fascinate me because of their color. So many little things can affect the appearance of the flower – sometimes with multiple colors growing on a single bush! I’ve always wanted to try to grow hydrangeas, but have just never gotten around to it.

Needless to say, I was quite excited to discover two large hydrangea bushes in the back yard of our new house.

The only problem with the bushes was that they’d been untended for quite some time. For a couple of months, we tried to just trim out dead branches, tackle the weeds and vines, and help the bushes thrive again.

But, ultimately, we had to give up. Over the weekend, we realized that all we could do was cut down the bushes and plan to start from scratch.

It was so sad. But, the more we worked, the more we saw that the problem was too big to tackle any other way. Parasitic vines had wound their roots all around the bushes. So many dead branches protruded from one bush that it was hard to find the source of the live branches. And weeds we couldn’t even begin to see before we chopped began to reveal themselves.

We also discovered that it wasn’t just two bushes. Four bushes – two large and two small – were actually planted there. The small ones were so overwhelmed by the larger ones and the weeds that they could hardly grow – and definitely could not grow straight!

Yes, the destruction was necessary.

I’ve heard that hydrangea bushes will regrow after a couple of years. Maybe these will survive. Maybe they won’t. But they’d gotten to the point that they could no longer be maintained as they were.

Are we careful to keep our marriages from reaching that point?

We tend the growth, but do we make sure to actively work against the harmful things? Do we trim out dead branches of anger, bitterness, frustration, and dissatisfaction? Do we actively combat the weeds of distraction, disillusionment, and temptation? Or do we just try to nourish the good and ignore everything else?

Marriages, like plants, must be tended. And they cannot be tended in a tunnel-visioned manner. We have to actively combat the negative as strongly as we nourish the beautiful. We can’t ignore it. We can’t hide it. We have to deal with it.

Neglect eventually catches up to us. And when it does, the work needed to overcome the neglect can often leave us chopping our marriages down to the roots. As we chop, we discover just what damage we’ve done to those around us, like our children, forcing them to grow oddly because of the strain our neglect has put on them.

And the more we have to chop, the more uncertain our future becomes. Will our marriages regrow? Or will they die?

Let’s not neglect the issues that pop up in our relationships, issues that will force drastic measures later. Let’s instead tend our marriages now, pruning and weeding to keep them growing healthy and strong.

What tending do you need to do this week?

I wrote this post years ago, just a few months after we moved into our second purchased home. I’m happy to say that the hydrangeas in question not only survived, they exploded with growth the very next spring! The same hope exists for marriages, sometimes even those that seem to have endured too much neglect to ever truly recover. While marriages are obviously much more complex (and abusive neglect changes the discussion completely), I have seen this miracle happen with them as well. It is a beautiful sight.

Thoughts from Life

Obedience

Posted on October 25, 2024 by Ann B. Hibbard

Have you ever stopped to question why disobedience happens? Why do children disobey their parents? Why do employees disobey their bosses? Why have God’s people disobeyed Him throughout history?

We all like to fall back on the simple answers of rebellion and pride. And those are relevant answers. And for some people, that really is the crux of the matter. They don’t want anyone telling them what to do. But often even those reasons spring out of something deeper.

Obedience is scary.

Obedience requires us to trust that what someone else tells us to do is the right thing. That if it all falls apart, they will be there to bear the weight of the failure.

And obeying God? On the one hand, that should be easier because He’s perfect and infallible. He sees all and knows all. But He’s also unseen and incomprehensible. Sometimes His instructions don’t seem to make sense and we second guess whether we even heard Him right or not. I mean, we have the Bible and can see the miracles there, but does that really translate to now? Does He still really work that way?

It’s not just the big things, either. Today I’m struggling with something as simple as writing. I find myself wanting to do just about anything else. I feel like He’s given me the instruction to write. But since I have tried to reinstate the habit of writing, I’ve struggled so much with knowing what to write. Or, when I do have an idea, I struggle with being able to translate the thoughts in my head into something communicable.

And what happens on the days when I just can’t? When I can’t come up with anything to write? Or what if I write something that is just…wrong? Or something that discourages when I intend to encourage? Or something that comes from a place of naiveté or ignorance? What if I’m incapable of obedience because of all of the road blocks I’ve hit when I’ve tried to do these things in the past? What if I get it all wrong?

And that’s just writing. Something simple and, in the grand scheme of things, pretty benign since I write for my own simple blog with no more than a handful of followers. If something that tame is scary, how much more so are the “big” things.

Obedience is scary.

But the truth is that trusting in myself is even scarier. I will definitely get it all wrong on my own. I need instruction and guidance.

That’s why obedience is the epitome of faith. It is acting on the trust that God really does know what He’s talking about. But, it’s also trusting that He is powerful enough not only to command but also to communicate.

I know my hearing is faulty. I know I struggle with wisdom. But, God is big enough to make His will known, even if it means getting through to someone as hard of hearing and doubtful as I am.

He can do it. And I can trust Him.

Yes, obedience is scary. But when I’m in the hands of my loving, almighty God, it’s the safest place to be because He has promised to guide me. When I remember that, I can even place my fear in His hands. Because He promised to take that, too.