Category: Thoughts

Posted in Thoughts from Life

What to Say

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’ve been writing for a long time. Sometimes it’s easy to share my thoughts. Other times, they form easily in my head, but I struggle to get them out — to communicate them well.

Then there are those times when I honestly don’t know what to say. I feel that anything I have to contribute would be trite and make light of something that I really do take seriously. September 11 is always one of those days. Many years I’ve chosen to skip writing or posting on social media at all because I don’t know how to communicate anything relevant, and I fear that my “normal life” comments will be wrong somehow.

But even though I might not know what to say, I strongly remember the feelings. I remember the details. I remember the impact. I remember feeling odd because the events of that day and the days to follow impacted me strongly even though I didn’t personally know anyone who lost their life or lost a family member.

I remember. And I feel it.

And it dawned on me that maybe that’s what I have to say today. Maybe I have words of encouragement for others who keep silent on commemoration days. Or during hard situations. Or in the midst of heart-rending controversies. I see you. I understand. I get that you aren’t silent because you lack feelings or opinions. You’re not ignoring anything. Instead, you are bearing it silently because you do not want to diminish in any way. Or perhaps you are engaging more locally and personally, face to face with those around you. Maybe you are doing your best to invest in whatever way you can, but it’s just not as visible or eloquent or far-reaching as the investment of others.

That’s okay. It’s good even. We need it all. We need those who can be publicly eloquent, moving us and reminding us to never forget. We need those who shine a bold and bright light on evils that would prefer to grow in darkness. We need those who know what to say.

But we also need those who know when their silence is better. Who know when a hug for a neighbor is better than a post on social media. When a close action comes more naturally than a public statement.

My one request is this: whatever our form of expression, may it be real. Whether we do so in public protest or in quiet work, may we never cease to fight against injustice. May we lift up the crushed and oppressed, offer genuine and valid comfort for those in agony, and always put our actions behind our words, whether they are declared publicly or spoken softly.

May it always be real.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

Thoughts from Moses

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Do you ever look at certain stories in the Bible and wonder how in the world people can respond the way they do? I do. Moses’ behavior in Exodus 3-4 is one example. Here Moses is, standing in front of a bush that is on fire but not being destroyed, talking to Almighty God. And what does he do? He argues.

Well, at first he’s afraid, which is a very natural response. And he sees his own inadequacies in the face of a holy, awesome God. Again, not only natural, but very appropriate.

But, then Moses goes above and beyond the point of recognizing his inadequacies. He starts arguing to the point of informing God that He’s wrong. Ouch! It’s easy to condemn Moses for his behavior. But, I can’t help but want to dig deeper. Why would Moses go to such extremes?

I think the answer might lie in Exodus 2, in the hands of the fellow Hebrews Moses simply wanted to help.

Years later, after Moses had grown up, he went out to his own people and observed their forced labor. He saw an Egyptian striking a Hebrew, one of his people. Looking all around and seeing no one, he struck the Egyptian dead and hid him in the sand. The next day he went out and saw two Hebrews fighting. He asked the one in the wrong, “Why are you attacking your neighbor?”

“Who made you a commander and judge over us?” the man replied. “Are you planning to kill me as you killed the Egyptian?”

Then Moses became afraid and thought, “What I did is certainly known.”

When Pharaoh heard about this, he tried to kill Moses. But Moses fled from Pharaoh and went to live in the land of Midian, and sat down by a well. – Exodus 2:11-15

Keep in mind that Moses was called and preserved from birth for the purpose of being used by God to free the Israelites. He might not yet have known how to listen to God’s plan, but he already had a huge burden for the people of God.

Yet even from the very beginning, the people he wanted to help lashed out at him, rejecting his help. (And this would be repeated so very many times over the next forty years.) They may even have been the reason Pharaoh learned about the murder. Now, don’t get me wrong — I don’t believe Moses was in the right here in his choice to kill the Egyptian. I believe he let his passion rule, and God needed to get ahold of him and teach him a lot. Even so, being attacked by the very people he thought he was helping had to leave a wound.

A wound that seemed to still be bothersome forty years after Moses fled Egypt.

A wound that had settled in so firmly that he seemed to honestly believe Almighty God, the great I AM, didn’t really know what He was talking about.

Obviously, Scripture doesn’t explicitly say, “Moses didn’t believe God because he’d been deeply hurt by the Hebrews before, and he didn’t think it was possible for them to accept him as their leader no matter what I AM said.” But I’ve seen what the wounds from a friend can do.

I’ve seen someone express passion and excitement because God was working and it was visible. The delight in being a part of that work was so tangible! But, doubt began to creep in. Then an attack came. Not from the world, but from a friend. From a beloved fellow Christian. And the wound struck so deep that it overcame the passion and excitement. Delight turned into confusion and an insatiable urge to just escape. Walk away from all of the work. Walk away from being used by God. Hide and never feel that hurt again.

I’ve not just seen that hurt in others. I’ve felt it myself, so very strongly. It’s a deep wound.

Cherished loved ones can hurt us. Those who should be our allies can derail us. Friends can deceive and incapacitate us. The most tragic reality is that the actions of fellow believers can convince us that the all-powerful, almighty, unfailing, all-knowing, loving God who called us doesn’t know what He’s talking about. Yes, we can and do respond just like Moses did. Ouch.

And more often than not, they aren’t doing it intentionally. They’re just acting out of a focus on self instead of on God and others. It’s easy to do. We’ve all been there, especially when we’re struggling with something. Think about the Israelites. Their problem wasn’t really with Moses. It was with their oppressors. They were tired. Weighted down. And lashing out at the most available person — who just happened to be the person who wanted to help them.

No wonder Scripture tells us so many times to encourage one another. To build one another up. To be a community of unity. Of nourishment. Of exhortation. Yes, to call out sin in one another, but never, ever, ever to tear one another down. Because we have to be reminded to look beyond ourselves. We don’t remember on our own.

God’s enemy wants to divide us. He wants to isolate us. He wants to cause disunity among us. Because when he does, he can cause us to doubt God’s calling. He can drive us to argue that we’re not enough. And when we’re alone, we’re not enough. But when we’re together, serving our Lord God in the unifying power of His Spirit, nothing can stop us.

Which option will we choose?

Posted in Thoughts from Life, What I'm Learning

Frogging

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I recently started knitting a sweater. This is a big deal for me. Most of my knitting attempts have been things like dish cloths or squares that I’d eventually assemble into a blanket. Or a simple lace shawl. All things with very clear-cut pattern instructions. Nothing big or major.

Then I saw a sweater pattern in one of my daughter’s pattern books, and I fell in love. I also realized that the pattern would let me use some yarn that had been in my stockpile for years. It’s so very soft, and I’d long wanted to use it for a sweater. But, I was about a skein short for any of the sweater patterns I’d found. This pattern allowed me to mix that yarn with a couple of other colors. Perfect!

Right.

Following a full pattern for building a sweater is very different from reading a pattern chart to create a fun design in a square. Or even from learning a sequence that creates a lace pattern and allows increases and decreases. Following this type of pattern requires knowing that M1 means “make one” and then knowing what your options are for “making” a stitch where one currently doesn’t exist. It means knowing how to knit short row and what DS both stands for and means.

Are you lost yet? I know the feeling!

Oh, and I haven’t even mentioned the color work. I’ve done knitting where you change colors between rows. But, knitting where you work back and forth between two colors to create a pattern? Yeah, this is a first for me.

But, I was determined to give this a shot, so I got started. My first time through, I had a lot of snags and pulls before I ever got through the the first ten rows of stitches. So, I pulled it out and started again. The second try looked much better, but then I realized I did not, in fact, make my short rows correctly, and there were holes that shouldn’t be there. No worries. I knew a way to fix that…later.

I finally got to the color work section, and I discovered that it was much easier — and more fun — than expected! Unfortunately, I got to the end of the nine rows of that small color working section, only to realize I had miscounted a small section in the front…on the very first row. I though I’d been paying attention the whole time to make sure the pattern was working right. But, I’d missed that one part. Two dozen stitches or less. But enough. And front and center on the neckline.

I had to frog it all. Again. (And I had to look up why pulling out work is called “frogging.” I’d heard it for years but never understood it, and for some reason it suddenly became very important to know. Apparently, it’s because when you mumble, “Rip it! Rip it!” as you are pulling out stitches, it sounds like “ribbit.” Sounds like as fun of an explanation as any!)

I frogged it. I restarted. Again. And I managed to make a nice, even starting chain. And a lovely ribbed neckline. And to create short rows with only a few gaps that will need to be closed instead of a lot. And then somehow mess up my count on an increase row. I was so frustrated at that point that I was ready to give up because I’m not great at frogging multiple rows without having to pull everything out and start again. Fortunately, my daughter came to my rescue and quickly got me back to a good spot.

Which let me get back to solid progress. And mostly correct counts on my increase rows (nothing that couldn’t easily be adjusted in the next row). And color work that I’m very proud of, both on the front and the back. And consistent tension on my even stitches.

Now, I’m well on my way to actually making my first sweater — one that I will hopefully be comfortable wearing because it looks decent!

Granted, I have a long way to go. But I’m getting there! And I’m learning so much through the repetition of frogging and restarting, getting a little more practice with new skills.

Having to ditch hard work is frustrating. Going back to square one because of yet another mistake is disheartening. But, when we keep trying, even after having to frog it all, we learn that we’ve grown. We see that trying again is paying off.

May we never be derailed by the frogging necessary in life, frustrating though it may be. May we instead embrace the learning and growing, recognizing that we are better because of the froggy moments in our lives.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

Words

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Have you ever stopped to really think about how we use words?

You might think that this would come naturally to a writer. That I would be deeply attentive to every word I use and its nuance. But, that’s not really true. I am as nonchalant about words as the next person, using vocabulary, phrases, and grammatical structures habitually, without stopping to really process whether or not I am truly communicating my thoughts well.

In fact, I did it in that last sentence. Think about the word “habitually” — or even “habit.” It is often used in a manner which indicates an action taken without thought. Do I really not think about how I use my words? That’s a ridiculous notion, to be honest. Although sometimes I do speak before I think — we all do that at times — typically even the “habitual” words and phrases I use are intentional choices to attempt to communicate well.

So, even though we might think that having a habit means the ability to do something so naturally that we don’t even think about it, the truth is that we don’t actually use the word “habit” that way.

Just to diverge for a moment, the top definition in Webster’s dictionary for habit is “a settled tendency or usual manner of behavior,” followed by the second definition, which includes, “an acquired mode of behavior that has become nearly or completely involuntary,” “addiction,” and “a behavior pattern acquired by frequent repetition or physiologic exposure that shows itself in regularity or increased facility of performance.” Oh, and if you keep looking, you’ll see older definitions related to clothing, appearance, or even the action of dressing oneself!1

If you’re anything like me, the next time you use the word “habit” out of habit, you’re probably going to stop yourself and think, “Wait, did I really use that word well?”

That, my friends, is the point. What we say matters. But, it’s not just the words we use or the tones and attitudes we present when we use those words. It’s also the way other people understand our words.

That’s a heavy burden to bear, I know. If I talk about doing something habitually, and another person interprets that to mean that I can do it without truly thinking or processing, they may feel that they will never be able to succeed in that area. But, if they think of it as a behavior I’ve acquired or that is typical for me, they may realize that even a habit takes work and effort. Even after being accustomed to doing it. Together, I and the person to whom I am speaking are jointly responsible for making sure that we understand one another and are communicating with clarity.

And guess what? We’ll never, ever, ever do that perfectly!

Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to be a downer there. But it’s the truth. So, if it is the truth, what do we do about it?

I could give you a whole list of good communication techniques, but you can search for those yourself just as easily. I could talk to you about building healthy relationships, but trying to accomplish that in a few hundred words would make something that is exceedingly important feel very trite.

Instead, I’ll share with you what’s on my bedroom wall. It’s a beautiful calligraphy print of Psalm 19:14, which reads, “May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable to you, Lord, my rock and my Redeemer.” (CSB)

Does that answer all our questions? Give us solid vocabulary to rely on that everyone will understand with complete clarity? Ensure that we never say a misunderstood thing ever again?

Nope. Not by a long shot.

But it does rightly direct our intentions. If my goal is to communicate flawlessly with you, I will fail. I’ll pick a wrong word or unwittingly say something that is a trigger for you. But, our amazing God, our Father, Lord, Rock, and Redeemer, knows us all. He knows our hearts. He knows not just what we say, but what we mean. And we can trust Him to bridge the gaps between us.

But only if our goal is first and foremost to be acceptable to Him.

That’s how I want to think, speak, write, and communicate. In a way that makes Him smile. That deepens my relationship with Him. That then, in turn, helps you see His love and pleasure as well. I forget that goal sometimes, which is why I have the verse on my wall, right by the door. I see it every day. I am reminded every day. Even so, I still miss it so often. But I want to keep growing. Keep learning. Keep practicing.

And maybe, before too much longer, that kind of communication will truly be my habit.

1. Merriam-Webster.com Dictionary, s.v. “habit,” accessed August 17, 2026, https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/habit.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

What is Finished?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

When I first sat down to start fleshing out this thought, I had just put three dish cloths in the laundry.

It seems like such an odd statement. What’s the big deal about washing three dish cloths?

Well, let me tell you a bit of a story.

I love handmade dish cloths. There’s something about washing dishes with that particular texture that just works. Some do work better than others, to be sure. The cutesy knit cloths with cows and dogs and dragons and dinos that I made when the kids were younger work fine, but the best ones are those with stronger texture variations that allow for soft but effective scrubbing.

Those cutesy cloths eventually wore out, and I realized it was time — probably well past time — to make a new batch of cloths. It took me a while, but I finally got around to starting the project. I had a couple of partially used cones of cotton yarn that didn’t have enough left for integrating into other projects, so that made yarn choice easy. The next step was to choose patterns. It didn’t matter if they were knit or crochet. I simply wanted them to be cute, but also functional, while being quick and easy to make. I found about a dozen patterns to try and dove in. Several times I’d start a pattern, get about a fourth of the way in, then decide that I didn’t like the feel or look or size or that the pattern would require too much attention. But I kept trying, knowing I’d get it figured it out.

I finally settled on two. My favorite, a texturally delightful knit basket weave was quick, simple, and could easily be adjusted to a variety of sizes. The other pattern was also quick, easy (unless I tried to alternate colors like I did with the first attempt at that pattern; beautiful results, but slow work!), and perfect for wiping counters.

Colors settled. Patterns chosen. Finally, I was ready to start creating my stash.

But, here’s the catch. The whole planning process took several weeks. And, I’m not super quick at knitting or crocheting. And, the first basket weave cloth I made I had to undo because I’d over-adjusted the size and made it too small. You see where this is going. This “quick and easy” plan to replace my dish cloths was turning out to be quite slow.

Which lead to another issue. I’m a finisher. So, of course, I wanted to finish all of the dish cloths before running them through the wash and integrating them into our daily usage. Very practical, right? Plan well, implement the plan, get it completed, then apply it. That’s how life should be.

Except, it’s not.

Life isn’t that clean. Or tidy. Or smooth. Life doesn’t let us focus on a thing, whatever that thing may be, and bring it to completion before throwing us a curve ball or introducing a new thing that needs to be tackled. Sometimes we have to live with small steps, rejoicing in the segments instead of waiting for the big finish.

Of course, that leaves a new challenge. What really does it mean to be finished? Where is that victory line we’re aiming toward? How many boxes really have to be checked off to indicate that we’ve made it? Are we finished when we’ve reached our original goal? Are we finished when we’re functional?

Or are we ever truly finished?

That’s a hard question for me in the grand scheme of life. It’s a rather philosophical one, and processing philosophical questions is not a big strength of mine. I prefer to tackle questions I can truly answer. And projects I can truly finish.

But since life isn’t that clean, I’m trying to use my little projects to practice tackling the big philosophical question, starting with running three completed dish cloths through the laundry so we could go ahead and start replacing the worn out ones. I eventually finished three more. In the meantime, I started other projects, some small and some large. Some would be finished quickly. On another, I set a one-year goal, knowing it would take me a while.

The finish line that I so dearly love may be hard to define. But that should never stop me from starting. Or from implementing along the way.

So, today, I’ll celebrate those three dish cloths. I’ll celebrate that I did actually finish that project. And I’ll keep pushing through life trusting that the One who gave me this desire to finish will guide me for His glory.

That’s answer enough for today.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

No Big Picture – Part 2

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Chewing on thoughts from Scripture never fails to produce results. Maybe that’s why we are reminded so often to meditate on God’s Word.

That was definitely the case as I continued to meditate on John 5:19-20 after the verses literally jumped off the page at me. I shared my immediate thoughts last week, but the concept continued to deepen. Continued to form. Continued to work on my heart.

Here are the verses again, just as a reminder:

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, the Son is not able to do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son likewise does these things. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing, and he will show him greater works than these so that you will be amazed. John 5:19-20 CSB

The initial realization was that Jesus didn’t have the big picture. By choice. He surrendered it when He took on flesh.

That is mind-boggling enough. But, the more I contemplated it all, the more the enormity of the situation began to sink into my slow brain. Before taking on flesh, the Son didn’t have to be shown anything. He was part of it. He automatically knew it. John 1 tells us that He was there in the beginning. He already existed with God. He knew it all because He ordained it all.

But He surrendered that full knowledge when He took on flesh, putting Himself in a place where He had to rely on the Father to show Him what was going on. He had to trust that the Father would show Him what was relevant when it was relevant. And He never doubted that it would happen, because He trusted the Father’s love and wisdom explicitly.

Here’s where this all hits me. I crave the big picture in life as much as I crave it in my job. I want to see it all so I can then break it down and tackle each step as needed. In my work, that’s necessary. The issues I’ve had in recent years have come down to the reality that I haven’t had enough information, and those who’ve had the information have neglected to give it to me. There was a breakdown. I work for good people. But they miss things. Because of that, I can’t automatically trust them to give me what I need when I need it.

In a way, that’s an understandable frustration with the small reality of work. But, when I crave it in life as a whole, the life that is supposed to be 100% surrendered to the Lord Jesus Christ and, by extension, God the Father, it reveals a problem. A sinful lack of trust kind of problem.

God the Father knows what I need. He knows when I need it. If it comes from Him, I can trust that it’s enough to take the next step, as long as I’m listening faithfully. He never gives too little. If I mess up, it’s because I responded poorly to what He gave me; it’s never because He didn’t give me enough information or the right information.

And yet, I often treat Him like my boss and coworkers. I fuss that I need more. More information. More guidance. More clarity. More…something. That I need to see the big picture. I need to see where He’s taking me so I can figure out my next steps.

That’s faithlessness, pure and simple. Sinful faithlessness.

Ouch.

I have tried to orchestrate life. Break down the big picture. Make things fit just so. And I’ve hit brick walls of frustration on so many things. But the Lord spoke into my striving, whispering truth into my spirit. He showed me the answers He’s already given me. He pointed me to prayers I’ve been praying and how my current uncertainty is actually an answer to some of those prayers. He showed me the action I need to take right now. Today. This week. It doesn’t solve next week or next month. It doesn’t make all of the pieces come together. In fact, it tempts me to ask more questions.

But God isn’t calling me to solve those things. He’s calling me to trust Him today. To see what He has put right in front of me and to do that. Only that. To leave the rest — the big picture — in His hands. Because He knows what to do with it. For all the ways He’s gifted me to break down dreams and visions and ideas into tangible actions, He has not gifted me to solve life’s big issues. That’s His job, not mine.

So today I confess my lack of trust. I repent of my whiny refusal to act simply because I don’t have all the information I think I need. I surrender my need for the big picture. And I make a commitment to do follow along with what I see the Father doing today.

In work. In life. In everything. That’s more than enough.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Scripture

No Big Picture – Part 1

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I love the way different brains work. I love seeing how we process tasks set before us in very different ways. And I love how we need each other to tackle a task.

For instance, some people can envision projects. They can see what doesn’t exist and create ideas. To be honest, those people blow my mind! If it doesn’t already exist in my awareness, I’m very unlikely to come up with it.

But, the people who come up with those ideas often struggle to know how to implement their dreams and visions. That’s where I often shine. As long as I have the tools and knowledge at my disposal to make it happen, I can break down a dream or vision into practical, viable action steps.

Here’s where things break down for me, though. I can take a big picture and break it down for a whole team, then see exactly where I can complete tasks within my strengths that work well with the strengths of other people on the team. Or, if someone else has already broken it all down, I can so very easily coordinate with the rest of the team as long as I have the big picture.

For most of my adult life, I’ve been in roles where I had the big picture, primarily because that is where I function best. I either had the big picture because I was part of making the vision practical, or I’ve had it because I’ve been one of the people on the team always “in the know.” Only occasionally have I operated with merely a slice of the information. Only rarely have I been the one working task to task, having to wait for the next assignment because I had no concept of the big picture that would automatically give me context for how my current assignment fit or what I might be called on to do next.

Those times have not gone well for me.

Unfortunately, that’s where I have found myself for quite some time in one of my roles. Working task to task with no real context for how it fit in the big picture. Just the task ahead of me. It has worked…technically. But there have also been many times when I’ve wasted time doing something that fit the letter of the task at hand but didn’t fit with the big picture. Times when I’ve done things the old way, not knowing that the “way” had changed. Even times when I’ve messed up completely and caused something to break and have to be fixed. All because I didn’t know the big picture.

It has been frustrating. Where in the past I’ve been either responsible or at least “in the know,” in recent years I’ve been on the outside. Given just enough information for what’s right in front of me, with no context or big picture. My work has felt stagnant. No learning. No growing. No problem-solving. Just completing tasks that I can’t even see the purpose for — especially in those times when the tasks have ultimately been dumped because they weren’t needed after all. (And those are usually the tasks that, in the past, I would have recognized early on in my “big picture breakdown” and would eliminate. But without the big picture, I couldn’t eliminate them.) In short, I’ve struggled a lot and have questioned so many times if I needed to just walk away.

And yet, even though that work is mindless and doesn’t allow me to grow, this life situation has caused growth. I just didn’t realize it until I was smacked upside the head while reading John 5.

Jesus replied, “Truly I tell you, the Son is not able to do anything on his own, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, the Son likewise does these things. For the Father loves the Son and shows him everything he is doing, and he will show him greater works than these so that you will be amazed. John 5:19-20 CSB

When I read this, I immediately was convicted of my need for the big picture, not just in work, but in life. In following Christ.

Jesus surrendered the big picture and chose to simply follow the Father. I’m supposed to be like Jesus.

Maybe, just maybe, I can practice this with the “small” thing of work, trusting Him to guide me to be the best employee I can be. And then maybe that practice will expand to the bigger scope of life.

Hmmm. Maybe that’s worth chewing on a bit.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Scripture

Comfort

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

“Comfort, comfort my people,”
says your God.
“Speak kindly to Jerusalem and tell her
that her time of warfare is over,
that her punishment is completed.
For the Lord has made her pay double for all her sins.”
Isaiah 40:1-2

I just love the book of Isaiah. I don’t slow down as often as I should when I read it. But when I do, it always grabs me, both in the devastating first part and the hopeful second part.

Isaiah 40 is one of the better known passages of the book, thanks to its Messianic tone and frequent reference in sermon, song, and more. Because of that, sometimes it’s easy for me to read through it without slowing down. I know what it says. It’s familiar. It’s clear.

When I do slow down, though, I’m nearly blown away. Just think about it for a minute. For centuries, God had watched His people reject Him, ignore Him, disobey Him, and suffer the consequences of their refusal to follow Him. They blamed Him for their suffering even while choosing to chase after the things He explicitly told them would hurt them.

Ultimately, they chose punishment instead of His care. His heart grieved, but He knew that the only way to get their attention was to allow them to experience the consequences of their choices.

That’s the first part of Isaiah. But then, the story shifts, enough so that some theologians insist that the second part of Isaiah had to have been written by a different author. And yet, it all comes from the same God. The God who instructs and lays out a clear path of obedience for His people. The God who gives His people a choice. The God who grieves when His people choose to reject and disobey Him. The God who allows the punishment and consequences to fall.

And the God of chapter 40 who declares comfort.

When someone has hurt me, I may forgive them, but I don’t necessarily embrace them again. I will either walk away completely, choosing a separate path from them, or I’ll erect a barrier that keeps them at arm’s length.

Not God! He leans right back in. He embraces. He comforts. He restores intimacy. He draws His people close to His heart, putting them right back on His path.

How astounding is that! How loving! How powerful!

And what should my response be?

First, to recognize the boon this is for me. He takes me back. He embraces me. He welcomes me back into His intimacy even when I’ve messed up royally. He loves my confession and repentance and is right there to welcome me back into His embrace every single time, comforting me even as I grieve over my choice to hurt Him…yet again.

Second, to be a reflection of this to those around me. They, too, are that close to His comfort. His intimacy. His grace and mercy and lovingkindness. And I get to be a conduit of that.

I get choked up every time I think of how Isaiah must have felt when this message flowed through Him to the people of Israel. He’d been proclaiming judgment and punishment. Destruction and captivity. Suddenly, though, he could declare comfort and intimacy. He had the opportunity to speak of the incomprehensible love of God, to declare its closeness and assurance. Where he’d only been able to speak of doom, he could now shout about joy.

What a treasure! What a delight! And I get to declare the same thing, but with even more clarity than Isaiah because I know the rest of the story! Instead of knowing that sometime in the future there will be a Savior, I get to look back and see how Isaiah’s prophecies were fulfilled through the incarnation of Christ.

I get to point to the exact moment in history when the comfort of God was sealed through the destruction of death. Wow!

This is the truth I want to live. Abundantly, powerfully, openly. Declaring God’s comfort to all, that they may have the chance to receive — no matter where they’ve been.

Posted in Meditations & Meanderings, Thoughts from Life, Uncategorized

Just Do Something?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

When you’re stuck, unable to figure out what to do next, sometimes the best thing to do is…something. Anything. Just move. Break out of the lethargy. Just do something. There’s something to this when we lack a solid vision of what’s next or are struggling with creativity that seems to have gone AWOL. The act of just taking action, no matter what that action may be, can kick us into gear.

Kind of like that 5-speed that won’t start no matter how many times you turn the key. But, give it a good push or start it rolling down a hill, then pop it into gear, and it will fire right up as pretty as you please! It’s quite the fun trick!

If we look around, though, I think we might find ourselves surrounded by people who have chosen to do something instead of doing the one thing they are supposed to be doing. These aren’t the people who are stuck. Uncertain. Struggling to figure things out. These are the people who know what it is they are supposed to be doing but are hesitant to jump out and do it.

On the one hand, it’s completely understandable. Often the things we know we should do are more than a little frightening. They represent change. We can’t see the big picture. Sometimes we can’t see past the very first step, and we’re afraid of falling flat on our face with the second one.

So, we decide to test the waters. We do this little thing over here to try to build up our courage. We do that little thing over there to try to nudge our creativity. We’re doing something, right? We’re trying to get ourselves motivated to do what we know we’ve been called to do. That’s good, right? Maybe even enough for now?

I have news for you. For myself. For all of us. It’s not enough.

Why? Because it’s not what God has called us to do.

Just doing something is a step to keep us active when we don’t know what to do next. But the honest truth is that most of us know what we’re supposed to do next. We might not have a grand vision or a five-year plan. We might not know how this step of obedience is going to play out in the grand scheme of things. But we know what we’re supposed to do next.

Write that note.
Have that conversation.
Apply for that job.
Go to that doctor’s appointment.
Volunteer for that event.
Audition for that role.
Make that gift.
Take that lesson.
Put your house on the market.
Plan that move.

Write and publish that blog post. (Getting personal now.)

I could go on and on and on. For some of us it’s a big thing. We know that the next step is a life-changing one that will leave us on the brink of the unknown. For others of us, the next step seems very tiny. It won’t take us more than a few minutes. Yet we put it off because we know the consequences could be bigger than we can possibly foresee.

But, we’re not obedient.

Today, if you are in a spot where you really and truly don’t know what you’re supposed to do next, then I encourage you to just do something. But I imagine that the vast majority of us are in a very different place. We know a next step. We’re just avoiding it.

If that’s you, don’t just do something. Do that thing.

Step out. Be obedient. Take the plunge. And know that the God who gave you the instruction already has every step covered. He’s got you, even if you can’t see Him. He’ll keep you going. He’ll show you the next thing in His perfect timing. As long as you will go ahead and take that step today.

Let’s do our things together today, shall we?

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts from Life

Choosing Our Light

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Today I am struggling with a lot of angsty thoughts that I can’t really communicate well…or kindly, to be honest. But, this old post fits and feels relevant. So, instead of a brand new angsty post, I’ll share these old thoughts and then add a few new ones at the end.

This morning, we awoke to a bright, cloudless sky. Our home has many windows that let in the bright sunshine on clear days, so on days like this we frequently don’t even have to turn on interior lights. The sunshine streaming in through the windows might not be as bright and strong as our electric lights, but it’s sufficient.

This afternoon, clouds are moving in ahead of anticipated weekend storms. As the clouds build, we alternate between bright sunshine and darkening shade. In some rooms, we’re turning on lights to counteract the game of peekaboo the sun seems to be playing.

When a storm system actually arrives, though, I expect a very different story. The front will solidly entrench itself, and heavy storm clouds will block the sun. In our home, we’ll have to use the lights that do not receive much use during a sunny stretch.

For so long, Christians in the United States have lived much as we do in our home. We’ve been content with the light of the cloudless or partly cloudy skies of morality, rarely seeing the need to turn on our lights of Christ-likeness. Why? Because we mistakenly equate Christianity and morality or being good Americans, thinking that light is enough.

Clouds of trouble do cover the sun briefly, and we turn on our lights for a while, taking a stand for godliness. But, because the storm has not yet arrived in all of its ferocity, we inevitably turn off our lights of godliness when the sun of morality emerges from the clouds again.

Recently, a political decision was made that has once again blocked the light of morality. While many Christians are in full-fledged panic mode over this decision, the reality is that this is just another bout of cloudiness – maybe even a thunder-shower – ahead of the real storm front.

But, what if we as Christians responded to this shower differently? What if we chose to turn on our lights of godliness once and for all? What if we decided to stop relying on the intermittent light of so-called morality and made a move to operate instead in the consistent and full light of godliness?

It’s a frightening thought for American Christians, to be honest. Such an action would mark us even more profoundly than morality ever did, perhaps even expediting our progress toward persecution.

But, it would also establish us firmly in a light that can never be dimmed.

The light of morality, grounded in a false belief that man is inherently good, was destined to be extinguished. Scripture reminds us that all goodness is bound up in Christ – man is sinful, not good. Without Christ, even the most moral of Americans will eventually bow to the lie of equality.

Do I like the decision that was made? No. Has it robbed reason to rejoice? Again, no. On the contrary, it has actually given me reason to rejoice. Why? Because now a few more Christians will choose to move from the fading light of morality into the never-failing light of godliness. They will grow closer to Christ through it. They will become stronger witnesses for Him because of it. And more of the lost and dying in this world will come to saving faith as a result of it.

And that, my friends, is why I rejoice, even in the face of those inevitable storm clouds.

This morning as I reread this old post, I’m struggling with the fact that the lost and dying in our country currently feel utterly hated by Christians. And it’s all because so many American Christians are claiming a political light instead of the Light of Christ.

I do not remember what political decision was handed down at the time I initially wrote this post. I could easily look it up based on the original publication date, but the fact of the decision would distract from the truth here: many who claim the Name of Christ are once again basking in a false light, and in the process so many who desperately need the love of Christ instead want nothing to do with Him. Because of us. Oh, how that breaks my heart! Utterly and completely!

Friends, I’m not saying we can’t have political preferences. But when will we realize that those preferences have to take a back seat to our allegiance to Christ? When will we start living in the true Light and share that Light and His love with those in desperate need of it? When will we realize that circumstances will never give us true light? That our preferences are a false light? Only Jesus is Light. ONLY JESUS. Let’s let Him and His love be our only light!