Category: Thoughts

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Scripture

Taking the Name

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

For 28 years, I’ve been known as a Hibbard. Admittedly, during the first couple of years, it was a little slow to “take.” We got married in our college town and lived there for the first six months. Any of my friends who were still in school were more familiar with my maiden name. Then we lived in my hometown for a while, attending church with people who had known my family and me for most, if not all, of my life. You can imagine how hard it was for some of them to call me Hibbard instead of Browning!

About a year a half into our marriage, though, we moved out of state. We met new people. Built new relationships. To these “new” people, I was a Hibbard, not a Browning. I might not have carried the genetics, but I carried the name. Over the years, that name grew to have a distinctive meaning to those who knew us, and I grew increasingly proud to carry it.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve never been ashamed of being a Browning. I’m quite proud to carry that connection. But, when I married, I didn’t just take my husband’s name, I took a new identity. An identity he and I have formed together and shared with our children. One that is uniquely us, a combination of both trees of family joined together.

Over the past few months, I’ve encountered a wide range of Scripture passages referencing the Name of the Lord. They all remind us of the powerful identify of the Lord God Almighty. Of the redemptive and sacrificial power of the Lord Jesus Christ.

Then I ponder the commandment to not take the Name of the Lord in vain. And I think of John 13:34-35 where Jesus is sharing some final thoughts with His disciples before going to the cross. He tells them, “I give you a new command: Love one another. Just as I have loved you, you are also to love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (emphasis mine)

Do you see that? Everyone will know that we are His disciples — that we bear His Name — if we love one another.

Hmmm…

When we become Christians, we take the Name of Jesus just as clearly as I took the name Hibbard. We become public representatives of the King of kings and Lord of lords. He allows us to be the earthly picture of Himself, shaping what those around us see Him to be.

That’s what it means to take the Lord’s Name.

So, what does it mean to take it in vain? Does it really just boil down to the words we say? To never using a curse word or crude language? Or could it possibly mean something more?

Jesus said that everyone would know that we are His Name-bearers if we love one another. So, what does it mean when we don’t love one another? What does it mean when we fight among ourselves? When we call each other names or question one another’s salvation because of differing beliefs? When we refuse to show love to Christians — those who also bear the name of Christ — from another color or race or culture or even denomination simply because they are not like us? Because they do not fit with our preferences? Because they don’t agree with our politics?

We may be able to declare without hesitation that we’ve never aloud a curse word or even a hint of crudeness pass our lips. But can we truly state that we’ve never taken the Name of the Lord in vain?

I can’t. There have been too many times when I have not borne the name “Christian” well. When I’ve been unloving, despite the fact that Jesus loves with perfect purity. When I’ve been selfish, where Jesus is selfless. When I’ve been unforgiving in spite of the unconditional forgiveness Jesus offered me long before I even knew I wanted or needed it. When I’ve preserved my life and my desires even knowing that Jesus has called me to lay down it all down for the sake of His Name.

And I’ve had to confess each and every time.

We like to whittle our faith down to pithy statements and easily checked boxes. But, our responsibility, no matter what commandments in Scripture we look to, is to bear the Name of a holy God. A perfect God. A God who loves more completely and purely and perfectly than we could ever imagine loving.

We are called to take His Name.

When I took my husband’s name, I chose a new identity. I chose to be connected to him and to reflect that connection in every aspect of my life.

We do the same when we take the Name of Christ. To take it in vain means that we refuse to be a reflection of Him. Upholding the Name of Christ means we walk in that connection, in His life, fully and completely, setting aside any of our own individualistic identity. Will we always do that perfectly? No, of course not. But it does mean that we live with that intention. And when we falter, we repent without hesitation. We live a reflection of His forgiveness. We live in love for one another…so that all will know we are His.

We’ve taken His Name. May we live to carry it well and never in van.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Nature

New Beauty

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Arkansas is a beautiful state. The moniker “The Natural State” often causes a bit of cynical disbelief until the moment a visitor steps onto a hiking trail in one of our many state parks. We might not have big, elaborate features like towering mountains or spectacular waterfalls, but our foothills produce breathtaking views nonetheless. Even the small, easily hiked mountains or the short, dancing waterfalls can awaken a sense of wonder in the most widely traveled of visitors. We know. We’ve encountered them on the trails and heard the surprise in their voices as they extolled the beauty of our state.

But Arkansas is currently also in the throes of a substantial drought. Over 90% of the state is in severe drought or worse, with 40% of the state hitting the highest “exceptional” stage of drought. While not the worst drought in state history, we’re definitely climbing that ladder quite rapidly. For a “natural state,” that can definitely have a negative impact!

Recently, we hiked one of those lovely Arkansas state park trails that we love so much. At times, it was hard to discern the trail from the surrounding ground because all of the terrain was dry and hard-packed. The trees right beside the park’s lake showed fall color transitions, but those further away simply showed the distress of extensive heat and reduced water.

Then we came to the waterfall, formed when a small meandering stream encounters a rock shelf, off of which it cheerfully tumbles into a small pool before finishing its journey to the lake via a narrow, nearby inlet.

At least, that’s what is supposed to happen. Thanks to the drought, the sluggish stream makes it to the rock shelf, but then barely seeps through the cracks in the shelf — enough that moisture is evident, but not enough to even create a drip into the waiting pool below. The pool itself is a fraction of its normal size, and the ground between it and the nearby lake inlet is bone dry. The stream, though still clinging to life, no longer finishes its journey.

It’s easy to be sad about the impact drought has had on our natural state. And as I looked around at this particular stop on our hike, I very keenly felt the absence of the cheerful waterfall. And yet…

As I stood on dry ground in a spot that is normally covered in water and looked toward the shrinking pool, I saw new beauty. I snapped pictures that I never would have been able to take before. My breath caught at the sight of the setting sun reflecting beautifully in the bit of remaining water. I stood in the spot where, under normal circumstances, anyone standing would be drenched in the small falls. Instead of getting wet, I remained comfortably dry while looking back toward a beautiful lake view.

Drought has stolen much of the beauty I typically enjoy. But it had also given me a perspective I’ve never enjoyed before. A perspective that, once our prayers are answered and regular rains return again, I might not be able to enjoy again.

Don’t get me wrong — I desperately long for the rains to return. And yet, I find myself very thankful for the reminder that, even in hardship, beauty remains. Not even in spite of hardship, but because of it. A beauty I would not have experienced without the hardship.

I forget this easily. I see only the negative. The burnt dryness of life caused by too much of this or not enough of that. A reminder of death. Of insufficiency. Of want.

That hike reminded me that times of hardship can also grant me new perspective. A glimpse of surprising beauty. A reminder that, even if I do get back to what I naturally call good, I will never have been completely bereft of beauty even in the worst of the hardship.

And for that perspective of new beauty, I am extraordinarily grateful.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Words on a Page

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Have you ever encountered a passage of Scripture that just didn’t click with your brain? That really was no more than words on a page?

That sounds sacrilegious, doesn’t it? Rebellious in so many ways. (Also, it bugs me that sacrilegious reverses the “i” and the “e” in religious, making it very hard for me to spell, but that’s not important right now.)

Let’s stop and think about this for a moment, though. If we believe that the Holy Spirit brings the Word of God to life in our hearts and minds, using black and white words on a page to help us get to know the true Word, Jesus Himself, then it would make sense that the Spirit wouldn’t illuminate all of the Bible to us at once. It would be far too much. Our brains couldn’t handle it. So, from that perspective, it makes sense that we don’t “get” all of the Bible.

But that should never keep us from working toward that goal, opening ourselves to the Spirit’s guidance as we grasp truths a little at a time.

When we do, we will eventually experience that moment when something that didn’t make sense before suddenly does. When what was just words on a page becomes alive. When understanding clicks and the light comes on.

That’s the Spirit, by the way, fulfilling the promise of Jesus to not just comfort but teach and guide. It’s an amazing reality!

Psalm 119 used to be one of those “words on a page” passages for me. As the longest chapter in the Bible, it often felt tedious and repetitive. Then the Spirit opened it up to me. It’s been years, decades even, since that happened, but I still remember it vividly. Suddenly this poem went from words on a page to a celebration of the very Word I was exploring. I began to sense the passion behind the words.

We have no idea who penned Psalm 119. It could have even been a group of worshipers, each assigned a letter of the Hebrew alphabet (Psalm 119 is an acrostic poem with 22 stanzas, one for each letter of the alphabet) and told to write words of praise to God for His law. Or it could have been a single individual excited about how the law helped them understand God. Whatever the case, Psalm 119 is essentially a love song for the Word of God, focused on what we now know as the first five books of the Bible.

I “caught” that passion one day when reading it after another passage had caught my eye. I don’t remember what the other passage was, just that I was excited about learning and growing and experiencing the teaching of the Holy Spirit. So, when I read Psalm 119, I realized the psalmist was experiencing the same thing, a joyous response to the life-giving reality of the Word of God. The psalm would never again be just words on a page.

I confess that right now I’m in a bit of a bog when it comes to reading the Bible. I do it every day, but processing takes work. Very little jumps off the page at me. I have to work for it. Dig for it. Study it. All of which is a good approach to Scripture, but it can be hard to do for my daily reading when I don’t have several hours to sit with a chapter.

I’ve been in this place before. A place where I get the most out of the Sunday school or Bible study passage that I sit with and immerse myself in for a whole week rather than from my daily reading. I feel like I’m missing a lot and struggling a lot.

So, I go back to Psalm 119, and I’m reminded of the deep beauty of the Word and of the reality that the Spirit is teaching me faithfully. Sometimes it’s bold and bright and eye-catching. Sometimes it’s slow and steady and even laborious. But, it’s always there. And I am thankful.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, What I Do

Doing

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

The clock is ticking.

I sat down at the appropriate time to start writing. But this morning, the brain is just completely uncooperative. I’ve tried to start several things, but couldn’t flesh them out. I’ve tried to complete in-progress thoughts, but they all continue to fizzle.

And the clock keeps ticking. I have an end point. A deadline. A time when I am obligated to other things. I can’t just sit here and stare at a blank screen until thoughts work. Or until I’m able to take one of my ideas or post starters and turn it into something viable.

So, I want to give up. I want to look at that clock and say there’s no way I’ll produce anything in the time left, so why bother? I want to give in to the emotions and voices in my head telling me it’s pointless. That I have nothing today, so why even try? I want to just give over, once again, to the seeming reality that this is pointless.

I’ve done it before. Why not again?

Because it’s never truly worked. I’ve never been satisfied. I’ve never been relieved to walk away. I’ve always been antsy and frustrated with myself, because I know trying is what I’m supposed to do.

So, I’m tapping out meaningless words that may never go anywhere. May never see the light of day. Just to say I’m doing. In hopes that exercising the muscle today, no matter how lightly, will result in being able to actually work it tomorrow. Will result in some measure of productivity. Will help me actually be able to think and communicate and share.

I’m doing today for the sake of tomorrow.

Tomorrow will probably be a struggle, too, but I’ll do tomorrow for the sake of the next day. And the next. And the next.

And maybe someday I’ll have something real. All because I didn’t give up, give in, or give over today.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Work

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Work.

Does it ever feel like a four-letter word to you? I confess, it does to me at times. (Honestly, right now is one of those times!) A job that is stressful and disheartening can weigh us down tremendously, but so can the idea of any work. It can feel so negative. So burdensome. So opposite of the life we’re supposed to live.

And when we see work that way, it can infect the fullness of our attitudes, leading us to reflect a blah-ness about everything we do.

I was feeling this rather heavily one morning as I looked ahead to the day. I honestly just didn’t want to do it. Any of it. The employment work was discouraging. The life work interminable. All of it was compounded by a long string of 100-degree days behind us, a forecast that promised much more of the same, and drought with no promise of relief. Life just felt heavy, and I didn’t want to do any of it.

And wouldn’t you know it, that morning, my Bible reading was 1 Thessalonians 1, which begins this way:

Paul, Silvanus, and Timothy:
To the church of the Thessalonians in God the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
Grace to you and peace.
We always thank God for all of you, making mention of you constantly in our prayers. We recall, in the presence of our God and Father, your work produced by faith, your labor motivated by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.
I Thessalonians 1:1-3 (CSB) emphasis mine

Verse three stopped me in my tracks, especially considering the teeny glimpse into Thessalonian life that Acts 17 gives us. Paul didn’t get to spend a lot of time in Thessalonica because of the character of the people there. In fact, Acts 17:11 compares the Thessaolonians to the people of Berea, the next town Paul went to, by stating that the Bereans “were of more noble character than those in Thessalonica.” Paul’s ministry in this less-than-noble town had been short-lived, yet there were those who chose to follow Christ. A church was born, even in this town. And I can imagine that the Christians left behind by Paul weren’t responded to well by the crew that both ran Paul out of Thessalonica and followed him to Berea to run him out of there as well.

And yet, they persevered to the point of being highly praised by Paul for their work.

Work produced by faith.

Not by the culture. Not by the demands of life. But by faith. They worked because of their allegiance to God Almighty.

We have a hard time wrapping our heads around how much religion was integrated with every day life for people like the Thessalonians. By becoming Christians, they had to re-evaluate everything. Every aspect of life. And they chose to do it in a way that, according to Paul, was firmly grounded in faith in the Lord Jesus Christ.

Labor motivated by love.

I work because I am supposed to. Whether it’s the income-based jobs God has put before me or the other aspects of work — church, life, family, etc. — I labor from obedience. The thing about obedience, though, is that we sometimes think we’re okay as long as we’re checking off the “obey” box. As long as we’re fulfilling the obligation, that’s all that matters.

But it’s not all that matters. The church in Thessalonica apparently understood that clearly, because their labor was motivated not by obedience or obligation. It was motivated by love. Oh how much we could accomplish with love as our motivation!

Endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ.

So often my endurance is inspired by necessity. I’m here. I have no other choice but to be here. So I keep on keeping on because there really isn’t another option.

But, there is. If I’m here, it’s because God put me here. If I’m here, it’s because He has a purpose. If I’m here, it’s to accomplish the work set forth by the Lord Jesus Christ to draw all humanity to Himself. To see the fulfillment of the eternal kingdom. If I’m here, it is because of the hope of that fulfillment.

I’m about to clock in and start work for the day. It’s a job that, on the surface, has nothing to do with eternity. I’ll go through the steps, then break for lunch, then come back, then do chores, then wrap up the day to try to get some sleep so I can do it all over again.

What if I remembered that the will of God is not disconnected from daily life? What if I lived today the way the Thessalonian Christians lived it? What if I worked as unto the Lord, recognizing that He has me here for a reason, no matter how pointless the job seems? What if I am motivated by love? Inspired by hope in Christ Jesus?

What might I see if I live that way? I’m ready to find out!

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Don’t Want To

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Do you ever have days that you just don’t want to?

I’d have left that as a fill-in-the-blank question, making sure to leave space to state what it is you specifically don’t want to do. But, does it ever feel like the answer is just “yes”? Where, in all honesty, just about everything you have to do would belong in that blank?

Yeah, probably just me.

Today is one of those day, though.

There’s a lot I don’t want to do today. I don’t want to tackle work. I don’t want to invest the effort into healthy eating and movement. I don’t want to be a responsible adult. If I had my wide open preference, I’d go finish the book I’m reading, finish the sweater I’m crocheting, start prep for my next project, do a little gaming, maybe go somewhere…anywhere…

You get the picture. All the things I can’t do today.

I also, to be honest, don’t want to sit down and write.

Getting back to writing has been good for me. It has helped my creativity start to reawaken. I have ideas, even if they never turn into anything concrete. And not just in writing, either. Other creative juices that had all but dried up are starting to trickle again. It’s fun. It’s helpful. It’s something healthy and nourishing in a season where most of what I do falls into the “good at it, but it’s draining and not energizing” category.

But just like we sometimes struggle to put the energy into other healthy habits, I struggle some days to make myself sit down and write.

And just like those other healthy habits, I’ll make myself do it anyway. Because unlike many of the necessities of life, these healthy habits do pay off. They do energize instead of drain.

If, by some chance, you’re in the “don’t want to” category today, know you’re not alone. But also know that there is good, even in today. And if you need encouragement, let me know. We can help each other through this.

So, go get started on those things you don’t really want to do. As you tackle them, I pray that you find unexpected joy and maybe even discover that you want to do some of them after all!

Posted in Thoughts from School, Thoughts from Scripture

Faithful Love

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Today I ran across a thought that was started nearly two years ago. I don’t know why I stopped writing it. I don’t even really know what was going on in life at the time. All I have now is a few paragraphs and a date stamp to let me know when I started writing. That was enough to nudge me to go dig back in my journals for the source thoughts. (And that was enough to remind me just how valuable journaling is — a practice I do not do consistently enough and have been very lax on lately. But that’s another post for another time.) And it was enough to let me know that I needed this message this morning, just as I needed it then!

On that particular morning, I was reading through Psalm 143 as a devotional. The first few verses inspired some great personal prayer time. I read the whole psalm, but then came back to just pray and ponder through the first half. If you read those first few verses, you can imagine that it wasn’t necessarily a prayer of praise as much as a prayer of longing and aching. I didn’t really feel pursued by a specific enemy, but a lot of challenges weighed down my heart that morning. The first few verses of the psalm helped me turn that weight into prayers — and helped remind me who the God I serve really is.

At the time, the second half of the psalm didn’t really jump out at me. I was caught up in the first half. In the prayer. In the ache. In the concerns. But then I had an interruption in the flow and needed to walk away for a few minutes. It wasn’t long, but it was long enough for me to redirect from the journaling thoughts. To get caught up in other things, even for just a few minutes. So, when I came back, it was as if I was starting afresh.

Frequently, it can be hard to come back from interruptions in my morning reading, but that particular morning was different. The interruption ended up being exactly what I needed. Because when I came back, I didn’t return to the first half of Psalm 143. Instead, my eyes jumped ahead to the second half, starting with verse 7. That verse fit with my earlier prayer, but as I kept reading, I found a new prayer.

Answer me quickly, Lord; my spirit fails. Don’t hide your face from me, or I will be like those going down to the Pit. Let me experience your faithful love in the morning, for I trust in you. Reveal to me the way I should go because I appeal to you. Rescue me from my enemies, Lord; I come to you for protection. Teach me to do your will, for you are my God. May your gracious Spirit lead me on level ground. Psalm 143:7-10 CSB

My journal records that I picked up a couple of other translations and wrote down the first part of verse eight in each of them:

Let the morning bring me word of your unfailing love… NIV

May I hear about your loyal love… NET

At first glance, it seems a little passive: “let me;” “let the morning;” “may I hear.” But it’s really not. This isn’t simply a statement of, “Oh yeah, I should know that He loves me.” Instead, it’s a tangible, engaging action on the part of God to tune our ears to the truth of His love. To meet us wherever we are in life, even when life feels rough, and actively bring us the news of His faithful love. His loyal love. His unfailing love. Love that we don’t just hear about but get to radically experience day in and day out, no matter our circumstances.

Love that He reminds us of in the most beautiful ways, even when we have drifted away from paying attention.

After pouring out his heart to the Lord so many centuries ago, David needed that reminder. I apparently needed it, too, that morning a couple of years ago when I was struggling so deeply.

And today it was yet again a beautiful reminder. God’s love for us isn’t a passive concept, hovering in the background as an idea that we can pull out when we need a warm fuzzy. It is the source of our trust in Him. It is the truth, reality, and light that guides our path. It is the power that rescues us and covers us with protection. It is our instructor in how to accomplish the will of God. It is the grace that leads us on level ground.

And God actively ensures that we are reminded of the truth of His love.

What a way to go into the day! May that be the message your heart and mind hear as you progress through today: God’s love is ready for you to experience. What a truth!

Posted in Thoughts from Creation, Thoughts from Life

What Are You Creating?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Last week I asked what you were reading. Today, I have a similar question: what are you creating?

The more I learn about what it means to be made in the image of God, the more I see creativity shine as a beautiful example. He is so very creative, not only in the way He fashioned the universe and mankind, but also in the way He has engaged with His creation throughout its — and our — existence. There seems to be no limit to the discovery of new aspects of His creativity!

And the most beautiful part of it all is that He shares creativity with us. Because we are made in His image, we have endless avenues for exploring creativity. Often, though, we miss it because we miss the true definition of creativity.

It’s easy to connect creativity specifically to the arts. Someone who can paint or draw or sculpt or carve or assemble beautiful works of art. Someone who can produce beautiful music. Someone who can design patterns or create beautiful things with fabric or yarn. Those are the creative people.

But we don’t all fit into those categories. And even those who dabble in the arts might not consider themselves truly creative. Everything I do craft-wise is sourced from the idea or pattern of someone else. Am I truly creative if I’m simply copying or following directions using a skill I’ve learned?

The answer is yes. And I’m learning that everyone has some measure of creativity.

Yours might be in how you relate to people. Or cook a meal. Or mow a lawn. You might not be able to paint a solid color evenly on a plain board to save your life, but if someone needs to know the best way to fence off their back yard, you’re the person to call. You might not be able to sew a straight seam no matter how hard you try, but when you tell a story, others are immediately captivated.

Creativity may be the ability to see a new topic to research. It might be the enjoyment of pulling out decorations for every season. It could be knowing just what to plant each season to create a yard that brings joy to others.

It might also be simply following directions to accomplish something. That’s me, and I have long believed that meant I wasn’t creative. And yet, when I follow directions and something good comes from it, even if it’s following directions for a task I’m not really great at, I’m exercising my creativity. It could be as simple as following a recipe to produce food that tastes good, even though cooking is not something I enjoy. It could be the act of enjoying the sight of the Norfolk pine I all but killed years ago, now flourishing and growing so tall that I can’t help but wonder where I’ll put it to protect it from the week of cold we might get this winter!

Right now, I’m working on two sweaters. I’ve never made sweaters before, but I’m currently crocheting one and knitting the other. I’m also crocheting a blanket. I’m strictly following existing patterns, using skills other people have taught me. Even the colors are some my daughter helped me pick out and pair together in an effort to use up some of our yarn stash. It feels very uncreative. It feels more like a simple task I have chosen for the purpose of helping my brain and body relax. It was hard to find the patterns. Hard to come up with the ideas. Creativity isn’t supposed to be that hard, is it?

And yet, I’m creating. In my own way. And it is nourishing me.

My challenge to you is to rethink creativity in your own life. Stop and evaluate the things you’re doing. What brings nourishment? What spurs you to learn more about yourself? What draws you closer to your Creator?

If you can’t answer those questions, perhaps your next challenge is to stop and ask your Creator to help you see how you can image Him through creativity. Let Him open your mind to what is possible. To what fits with how He created you.

Then come back and answer the question: what are you creating? By answering and sharing that answer with those around us, we might just help others see creativity in themselves, possibly in ways they never imagined!

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Motivation? Or Depth?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Have you ever noticed how much we crave motivation? We have motivational speakers. Motivational books and articles. Motivational posters. Sharp, motivational statements plastered on t-shirts, coffee mugs, desk decor, and more.

And for the Christians in the group, what are our favorite Bible verses? Yep, the peppy motivational ones that we can spout off like a cheer at a ball game.

Here’s the thing, though. Those verses always come in context. And the context is always connected to some sort of action.

I’ve been spending a good bit of time with Paul’s letters lately. I’ll be honest, they are not my favorite books of the Bible. My brain doesn’t work like Paul’s, and it sometimes takes a lot for me to process what he’s actually saying. But, over the years I’ve become increasingly familiar with his letters, and I’ve gotten a better grasp of how the various ideas flow together in a coherent thought.

You see, that’s been one of my challenges. There’s always been a tendency to focus in on individual concepts from Paul’s letters, and that has made it hard for me to see how it all fits together. But it does all fit together, and there is a common theme in many of the letters. A common overarching outline that helps us out.

Paul frequently starts his letters with general concepts: This is who God is. This is what Christ has done. This is what the church is supposed to be.

But then there’s usually a shift: This is what all of these concepts mean for us. How we should respond. What we have to do.

We like the peppy motivation. We like the big, grand statements. We like the picture of who God is and what we’re supposed to be. Go motivation!

Our problem is that we like to live in the motivational mode. We don’t really like to be reminded that any motivation has follow-up. Requires action. Demands that we take steps to make use of the motivation. Getting pumped up by peppy motivation is fun. Doing the hard work to turn that pep into action…not always so fun.

But it’s so very necessary.

We will never truly love our neighbor unless we take the beautiful statements in Scripture about love and turn them into reality in the hardest places.

We will never find unity in the church unless we take to heart God’s commands to set aside our idols and our preferences and our heroes and surrender fully and completely to the Lord Jesus Christ and Him alone.

We will never see abundant growth, either in ourselves or in the kingdom of God, unless we do the work of being rooted in Scripture and truth and sacrifice and surrender.

I’ll be very honest and vulnerable right now and admit that I’m weary and feeling quite battered. I’m in a place where pithy motivation, even from random Bible verses, is failing utterly and completely. I need solidity and depth. I need to know that the hard work actually will have a purpose. And I can’t find it if all I have is a peppy motivational approach to the Word of God. I have to take off those glasses and look at it all for real. I have to see the depths of truth in both the grand statements and the calls to action.

I can only find that, even when looking to Scripture, if God Himself is my focus. I might get in trouble for saying this, but even His Word and all of the beauty found there will fall flat if it doesn’t point me to the living God Himself. If it doesn’t direct my attention to Him and to walking in His will and His purposes. I know too many people who claim to love the Bible and check all of its boxes but who completely miss God Almighty Himself. They completely miss a true relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ.

There is action beyond motivation. There is relationship that takes surrender and work. Yes, I’m weary. But I’ll only be strengthened if my focus is on Him and my action centered around my relationship with Him — not chasing after motivational pep.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

From the Middle

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I got a chuckle the other day as I read some social media posts from a first-year homeschool mom. She really is doing well, it seems. She’s been able to process wisdom from more experienced homeschool parents, and she’s implementing that wisdom well. But, there were a few spots where I still wanted to say, “Bless your heart,” or “Oh, honey!” You know…those lovely Southern phrases we pull out when we just don’t know what else to say.

At the same time, though, I applaud her for openly sharing her learning journey. So often, we hear from the veterans only. Those who have such a wealth of experience to share. And their wisdom is so incredibly valuable! But it can also be like drinking from a fire hydrant, especially if it’s decades of experience being handed down to someone just getting started — someone who actually does need the time to develop before they can truly handle that full slate of resources.

I know I’ve been guilty of sharing advice with other people this way, whether in homeschooling or ministry or parenting or any other area where I have a smackerel of experience. It can be…a lot.

But there’s a space that rarely gets shared from. That space right in the middle. The place where we have passed the idealism of the original thought, idea, or inspiration, but we haven’t yet seen how it turns out. We don’t yet know if our attempts will actually work. We have no idea if the advice is sound. And, to be truly honest, we can often find ourselves pretty disillusioned and discouraged. Who wants to share any of that?

Honestly, I think we’re the wisest in that middle space. We’ve been hit with reality a few times, and it illuminates the flaws in our initial idealistic inspiration. We’re encountering the holes that need to be filled; we’re being stopped in our tracks by problems that need to be solved; we’re seeing ideas that need to be revisited and revised. We still have no idea what the outcome will be and what additional errors or useless actions we’ll process along the way. But we’re gaining the tools we need to evaluate each step of the journey. And we’re getting better at it as we go.

That’s a hard space to share, to be honest. It doesn’t sell books. It doesn’t “preach” or enable one to gain any sort of platform. It has no confirmation of validity.

Even so, it’s where the vast majority of us exist. Honestly, I was in “the middle” of homeschooling until the moment my youngest finished his last high school requirement. And even then, I didn’t really know if I’d succeeded in equipping all three of them well. Well into my “retirement,” I’m still processing what did and did not work — what I’d do differently if I began again armed with the knowledge I have now. (And I have no idea if the “different” would actually work better.)

Currently, I’m in the middle of figuring out what life looks like as a “retired” homeschool teacher who is floundering through multiple ill-fitting jobs and just trying to figure out what’s next. What does it mean to be the mom of adults? Am I building the relational skills I’ll need to possibly become a mother-in-law someday? How are we as a family handling the challenge of staying connected in a new and different way, building on the foundation we laid when we all lived under the same roof? How is my approach to employment now paving the way for what I’m supposed to do with the rest of my life?

The middle is squishy. It’s gray. It’s confusing. It’s uncertain.

Yet it is a place that needs to be shared. It is more important to talk about the middle than it is to rave about cool new ideas or share advice from places of success and completion. We need to see each other in the middle. We need to know how someone else is solving problems. Or filling holes, or revising ideas. Or restarting completely when it all falls apart.

It’s hard to share from the middle, but maybe that’s one of the things I need to be learning. Maybe that’s a space of vulnerability I need to be willing to express.

How about you? Are you in the middle on anything right now? How about we meet each other there and walk through the journey together? It might make the completion even more victorious!