Category: Thoughts from Life

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Sausage Balls & the Work of God

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

It’s sausage ball season!

I know that, technically, sausage balls aren’t limited to fall or holidays. But somehow in my family’s mind, they just fit in this time of year. We rarely, if ever, make sausage balls in the summer, and we know autumn is officially here when we’ve made our first batch sometime in September or October!

I’ve enjoyed sausage balls all my life, but I didn’t make my first batch until after I got married. My mother-in-law always made some for my husband to collect when he visited home, but since we lived about eight hours away, those visits could be rare.

Sausage balls aren’t hard to make at all. They are just three ingredients — Bisquick, ground sausage, and shredded cheese (although we’ve learned that adding in some blackened seasoning makes them even yummier!) — all dumped into a bowl and mixed. The kicker is that it takes a bit to get the ingredients all mixed together because there’s no moisture added other than the moisture in the ground sausage.

When I first started making sausage balls over two decades ago, I didn’t think it was possible to get all of the cheese and Bisquick mixed in. There was just no way to make it happen. The sausage just didn’t hold enough moisture, no matter how much I worked the dough.

But then I got a stand mixer, and all of my baking endeavors were revolutionized. I quickly became addicted to the thing, wondering how in the world I’d ever mixed doughs without it.

The first time I used the stand mixer to mix up sausage ball dough, I was amazed at how easily the ingredients melded together. Even so, it still took a couple more years before I realized that I really could get it all mixed, leaving no remnants of cheese or Bisquick.

I know better now. I know to keep mixing. Let it go just a little longer. Watch for all of the powder and cheese to be absorbed into the ball of dough. I know it will happen if I just wait long enough.

Every time I mix up a batch, though, I still doubt. Several times this season, I have gathered all of the ingredients and dumped them into the mixing bowl, and each time I was still tempted to add a splash of water (not something I do, but I’m always tempted!). The day was dry. The sausage was extra lean. I doubted that this time it would all mix in. I just knew it needed a little help.

But I managed to resist temptation and just let the mixer work its magic. Lo and behold, it all mixed in beautifully and worked well. No issues. No remnants. Just excellently blended dough, ready to be shaped and baked up into balls of goodness.

I often view life the same way.

There are some situations that just need miracles. Huge intervention that nothing on earth can help. And I know that the God I serve, the Father who claims me as His beloved child, can accomplish those miracles.

But more of life is like an unmixed bowl of sausage ball ingredients. It’s all there. And somewhere deep inside, I know that God has provided every ingredient and circumstance needed to make it all work.

But I doubt.

I convince myself that there will be remnants. Little things left incomplete. Imperfections. Minor disappointments in an otherwise good thing. And I think I need to jump in and help. Add a little of this or that to the mix to make sure it all works right.

And my little bit of this or that acts a lot like adding water to a sausage ball mix. It knocks the balance off. Maybe just a bit, maybe a lot. But the end result is not right.

Everything I feared would happen without my intervention actually does happen because of my intervention. Because I didn’t have patience to let God work. To be enough in tune with him to act when He said act and to wait when He said wait. To trust that just because it doesn’t look like it’s going to work doesn’t mean that it won’t.

I have come to discover and learn that God’s greatest works aren’t in His huge and dramatic miracles, although those are fun to see.

His greatest works are in those times when He convinces His children to trust Him and His processes. When He helps us not add in our little bits of this and that. When He takes something that doesn’t look like it’s going to work and makes it work, smoothly and naturally, simply because it’s given enough time.

I’m not always faithful to be obedient in those times. But I want to be. I want to have the patience with life that I’ve learned to have with mixing sausage ball dough. And I pray He’ll remind me of that truth with every single batch I make.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Thoughts, Thoughts from Life

Total Rest

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

It’s not quite the new year yet, but this wrap-up of the rest series felt like a good reminder even now, while we remain in the busy season. 

A new year has arrived, bringing with it a slower pace of life. But to get here, I had to survive a typical fall in the Hibbard household. Every year the stretch between the end of October through the end of December is a very busy time for us. This year was no exception.

But right in the middle of the busyness, God reinforced His lesson on rest. Oh, He had already given me the idea. I had even journaled it months before. But, it wasn’t until I had come to the end of a very rough week that He reminded me of one more truth He had taught me about rest.

Rest is not just relational, expected, and sacrificial. Rest is also total trust.

In all honesty, I had been trying to rest in the midst of the chaos. But, I did it my way. I allotted time to attend Christmas parties and enjoy the fellowship. I sacrificially set aside my to-do list on multiple occasions, supposedly in the name of rest. But I forgot that all of these things must be bound together by a conscious focus on total obedience.

You see, rest is not just about coming up with ways to interact with others, to meet an expectation, or to sacrifice when an opportunity seems to arise. Rest is about walking in complete trust and obedience, allowing God to handle every single detail, every single time.

When I tried to do life, whether work or rest, my way, I fell apart. I failed. My to-do list backed up and my relationships became strained. I neglected to fulfill obligations, and no amount of time set aside for rest seemed to rejuvenate me.

I did not find real rest again until I stepped back to see how I had failed to trust and obey the Lord. Rest returned only when I actively and consciously began to walk once again in total surrender.

Now we face a new year. If it moves even half as quickly as last year did, many of us will once again come to the end of it feeling harried and tired. But God offers the rest we need to make this a year of complete abandon to Him. Complete obedience. Complete trust. And complete rest.

I am not one for New Year’s resolutions, but I do hunger to make a new commitment this year. I hunger to live this year centered in the total rest of Christ.

Will you join me?

Here is the final post in my four-part Rest series, originally published in Arkansas Baptist News.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Repost, Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

Expected Rest

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Part 2 of the rest series!

Recently I shared that God has been teaching me a good deal about rest. I love that the learning never stops. He builds on each lesson, continually growing me. The more I learn, the more I see how much I have left to learn.

Discovering the depths of rest is no exception.

In addition to the surprising lesson that rest is relational, God is showing me more and more that rest is expected. I suppose in the true nature of biblical instruction, I should say that rest is commanded, for that is the reality. Either way, rest is not an option.

But I am just beginning to understand why God expects us to take rest seriously.

What keeps us from resting?

I asked myself that question recently, and I was not too fond of the answer: a lack of trust prevents my rest.

Far too often, I resemble the children of Israel wandering in the desert. They grumbled about the lack of food. So, God sent them manna. But, He told them to collect the manna in a certain way. Five days out of every week they were commanded to collect only what they needed for that day. On the sixth day, their collection was to be enough for two days.

It was illogical. It was improbable. Why would manna that did not last more than twenty-four hours five days a week last forty-eight hours on the sixth day? Had I been among the Israelites, I probably would have obeyed, simply because I am a rule follower by nature. But I can guarantee you I would have been very skeptical that first week. Even if I took God at His word, it would not have been easy.

But He said to rest on the Sabbath. And He never gives a command or holds an expectation without providing the means for obedience.

That is as true for me today as it was for the Israelites then. God expects me to rest, and He will always provide the way for me to accomplish it.

What about the work I am behind on? What about the little things that have not been done during the week because of other obligations? What about the expectations upon me? What if I let someone down? What if I do not get something done?

Yes, God even has provision for those.

If I choose to not rest, it is because I do not trust Him to take care of everything just as He said He would. And believe me, it feels as improbable, illogical, and unlikely as the preservation of manna. But it is just as expected for me as it was for them.

May we trust Him enough to obey and rest.

This is part two of the rest series originally published in Arkansas Baptist News.

Posted in Faith Nuggets, Psalm 23, Thoughts, Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

Relational Rest

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

This is another throwback article, one I originally wrote to kick off a four-part article series for a local publication. But I vividly remember processing through the thoughts that resulted in these articles. They shaped some of my earliest, foundational ideas about Sabbath rest. And I find them all to be a good reminder to revisit now and then, especially in busy seasons where rest has to be so much more intentional.

Life is tiring. Have you noticed? We hit the ground running and eventually forget what it means to stop. To rest.

I am convicted each time I see how seriously Scripture handles the Sabbath. This day of rest was instituted long before the law came into being. In fact, rest existed before sin corrupted the world and laid the burdens of exhaustion upon our backs. Rest is critical, and we must allow God to teach us how to rest.

God has been opening my mind to aspects of rest I have never before considered. Recently, He showed me that rest is relational. A quick glance at the Old Testament instructions about communal Sabbath practices shows how important relationship was in times of rest for the Israelites. But I needed a little extra help from the Holy Spirit to help me learn how to apply it to my life in today’s less communal society.

When I think of rest, I think of curling up all by myself with a good book and no distractions. You see, I am an introvert. I love being with people, but social interaction typically drains my energy. I need to recharge after I spend time with people. How in the world can rest be relational?

Fortunately, God is a patient teacher. He is willing to prove His truths to me, even when I am skeptical.

I remember an experience that hammered this truth home to me. I was heading out to a retreat, scheduled to spend three days with a group of amazing women, but all I could think of was the energy that would be required of me through the weekend. I went into it tired. How long would it take me to recover once it was all said and done?

I never expected to come away from that trip energized. Those women poured into me even as I poured into them. We respected one another’s needs, helped each other recharge, and lived out the beauty of Hebrews 3:13. We pooled our talents and passions, seeing productivity flow even out of our times of fun and relaxation. We rested together in ways we never could have done individually.

For the first time in my life, I saw that even introverts cannot experience the fullness of rest without support and encouragement from fellow believers. Rest really is relational.

Scripture supports this in a profound manner. Consider Psalm 23. This beloved passage wraps me in peace every time I read it. I have always thought of it as a personal passage, but recently I was confronted with a startling truth: David was a shepherd. He knew sheep. And, he knew that sheep do not do well at all on their own. They rest when they are surrounded by the safety of their flock and the protection of their shepherd.

We are God’s sheep. We need to draw upon the presence of one another, encouraging each other daily that we may truly find rest.

This article was originally written for Arkansas Baptist News.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Permission

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I love giving permission to other people. Permission to go light on themselves. Permission to relax. Permission to do fun things just for the fun of it. Permission to not be busy all the time. Permission to do things that I’ve wanted to do at times but didn’t feel like I had permission to do.

Sometimes, especially during my growing up years, that permission was withheld by others and their expectations of me, whether they intended to withhold it or not. As an adult, there have been times when I felt the lack of permission from others, but it’s more frequently been a burden I’ve placed on myself.

I don’t give myself the same permissions I give to others.

It hit me hard this morning as I processed what the day needed to look like compared to how tired I felt. Somewhere in the middle of that whole stack was my sense of writing responsibility.

Writing is a joy and a need for me, but it does also sometimes weigh on me as a responsibility. When I don’t write regularly, those muscles weaken and writing becomes harder. And I haven’t written a whole lot over the last few weeks because of a busy month and a need to shuffle other things into my writing time. So, this morning, it felt more like a responsibility than a joy. More like a demand than a need or desire.

As I weighed the options of the day and tried to figure out where to fit writing in, knowing it would be even harder later in the week, the first thought that came to my mind was Give yourself permission.

It stopped me in my tracks, both physically and mentally.

Permission? Permission to what? Not write? That’s what I’ve been doing a lot of lately, and it has to stop somewhere. So, what permission do I need to give myself?

As I pondered, I realized, first of all, that I had an idea to write about. So I definitely would be writing today! It’s critical to take advantage of those ideas! But, secondly, I realized that some of my fear about skipping writing revolves around a balance of permission. I don’t feel that I can give myself permission to relax on my responsibilities because I will resist jumping back on them.

So, that’s the first permission. The permission to go easy on myself now and be firm with myself later.

I also realized that I most commonly give myself permission to skip the most life-giving responsibilities. Probably because I feel a little guilty indulging in them anyway when they aren’t immediately practical. So, the second permission is allowing myself to set aside other things now and then. Even the practical.

That’s what I’m doing today. I’d intended to skip writing and do tomorrow’s chores today since we’ll be otherwise occupied most of tomorrow. Instead, I’m giving myself permission to write what’s in my head. Then I’ll give myself permission to reconsider the chore list for the week and determine what can slide. I’ll give myself permission to be firm with myself later in the week if needed.

Permission is like that. It’s nourishing, whether it is giving us a bit of leeway or holding us accountable. It teaches us, grows us, heals us, frees us, sets our boundaries, and paves the way for a healthy life.

Permission will look different for you than it will look for me. It will also look different coming from those around us than it will coming from ourselves. And, there will be times when we will need to give ourselves permission specifically because others withhold it when they shouldn’t. Or we’ll need to see the need to grant our permission to those around us.

My prayer today is that I will grow in my understanding of responsible, life-giving permission. That I will know when to give it to myself and to others.

And for the moment, I will write.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

I Love Your Home

Posted on 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!

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Silence

Posted on 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!

Posted in Thoughts from Life, What I Do

Editing

Posted on 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.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

The Place of Impact

Posted on 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.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Obedience

Posted on 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.