Tag: encouragement

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Investment

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

As I went through my early morning routine, the thoughts were rolling. My overactive brain was fleshing out not one blog post idea but two, both begging to be released through my fingertips.

As soon as possible, I sat down at the computer. And almost immediately it all dried up. All of the eloquent words flowing through my brain. All of the passionate ideas welling up inside me. They weren’t necessarily gone. They were just…flat, refusing to come together in any coherent manner.

Frustrated with the lack of flow, it became easy to get distracted by the nature of the day. Conversations with various family members and little tasks here and there were much easier to focus on than the flashing cursor and impossible words. I tapped out a few notes and thoughts to make sure I was doing some writing, but, for the most part, I was derailed.

This isn’t a first for me. And it’s not just about writing, either. It happens with other projects and activities. Even chores, if I’m honest, but it’s really not hard to distract me from those tasks! The catch is that I usually do get back to chores or work tasks simply because it’s the responsible thing to do. It’s only the nourishing things I walk away from. Go figure.

Far too often, I never get back to the nourishing things. I let the realities of life leave me derailed. Sometimes it’s simply that I set aside a particular writing prompt thought or a specific project. Other times, I stall out completely, ignoring writing or working on any kind of project for weeks, months, or even years on end. I welcome distractions as excuses. I know the activity will be nourishing and that I should invest. But when it doesn’t flow easily, when it takes a lot of work, it’s easier to set it aside and invest energy in life’s essentials instead.

I don’t think it’s that I’m lazy. I think it’s that there’s something in my brain that tells me these things aren’t really worth my time. They’re selfish. They’re purposeless. They’re useless. I’m really not that great at them anyway. Why waste the time, both mine and other people’s? Why let these activities clutter the day?

Unfortunately, the productivity mantra of our culture not only supports those thoughts of uselessness but also gets hammered into our heads on a daily basis. We act on it, even as it systematically wears us down and makes it increasingly harder to actually do the things that nourish us.

And it’s all a lie. Sadly, even if we know it’s a lie, it’s a hard one to get around.

Nourishment is not useless or pointless or purposeless, nor is it selfish. I can tell someone else that all day long, but it takes a lot more work to convince myself of it. Far too often I don’t have what it takes to both convince myself to keep going and stick with the original plan.

Like that day everything dried up. I jotted down notes for the ideas that had been overflowing in me earlier in the morning, but then I did set them all aside. I walked away from the frustration of fighting both the battle of uselessness and the battle of getting those thoughts back. I chose to save them for another day. I still haven’t gotten back to them, even months later. But maybe someday I will.

The important thing about that morning, though, wasn’t that I saved up thoughts for the future. Instead, it was that I didn’t let myself give up. I came back from my distraction and chose a different topic. I wrote totally different words. I affirmed the nourishing action, even if the specific details of the nourishment didn’t work out as planned.

Losing those thoughts wasn’t an isolated event. The same thing has happened multiple times in the months since that specific day. Sometimes I’ve handled it well and other times I haven’t. But I know one thing for sure: investing in nourishment was never a bad idea. And the times I walked away and didn’t invest almost always led to greater exhaustion.

Today I was tempted to walk away again, this time without even trying to sit down and write. But I knew I needed nourishment, and that nourishment required investment. So, here I am, reinforcing the truth by writing about it.

Maybe next time I’ll be even more motivated to push forward and invest in the work of nourishment until it’s a steady habit again, one that overcomes the voice of stark productivity. One that strengthens my tendency to walk toward nourishment instead of away from it.

Posted in Thoughts from Scripture

Why Can’t You?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

“If I can do it, anyone can do it!”

The words are meant to encourage. To motivate. To make something seem not so hard. I’ve been on the frustrated receiving end of those words. I’ve also been guilty of saying them.

I’m not known for my grace and coordination. I remember my father frequently informing me that coordination strikes every ten seconds, and one of these days it would hit me! It doesn’t very often, for the record. But, that means that if a task requires coordination, I assume that if I can do it, anyone can. (Cue driving a stick shift. My father tried to teach me. He’s one of the most patient men I know, despite his teasing about my lack of coordination. But he did give up on teaching me to manage the clutch. He successfully taught me how to drive an automatic — and how to parallel park, thank you very much. But it was several years later, well after I was a confident driver, that my future husband finally taught me how to drive his five-speed truck.)

If I can do it, anyone can do it…right?

A book I was reading this morning made reference to Hebrews 4:14-16. Even though I knew what the passage said, I’m trying to make a habit of always rereading Scripture references brought up in books or articles I’m reading, paying attention to context and depth. So, I turned to the passage and read the familiar verses.
14 Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens—Jesus the Son of God—let us hold fast to our confession. 15 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who has been tempted in every way as we are, yet without sin. 16 Therefore, let us approach the throne of grace with boldness, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in time of need. (CSB)

I suddenly felt slapped in the face. Shame spread over me, tears sprung to my eyes, and I couldn’t even bring myself to go back to the book I’d been reading. Why this visceral reaction? Because the voice I heard in my head was not one of encouragement, reminding me of the amazing loveliness of our High Priest. Instead it was an ugly voice.

“If He could do it, why can’t you? You claim to have His power, but you fall to your weaknesses. You succumb to temptation. You are never without sin. No boldness for you!”

Ouch! I knew it wasn’t truth. I really did. And yet, how often is this our go-to thought? As we discuss passages that talk about righteousness and our place before a holy God, we are much quicker to think of ourselves as sinners who just barely scraped our way in because of the grace of God than we are to think of ourselves as children of God who can approach the throne of grace with boldness.

You think I’m wrong? Listen to our music. Our prayers. Our discussions in Bible studies and Sunday school. The way we never, ever want to refer to ourselves as righteous. It’s only Jesus who is righteous. We deserve nothing because we can accomplish nothing.

And it shows in our other conversations, as well. Oddly enough, looking at one another and saying, “If I can do it, anyone can do it,” is more a reflection of our own frailty and lack than it is of believing in one another. We think so lowly of ourselves that we firmly believe that we can only accomplish things that are unbelievably easy.

And so, when we come to the holy, precious, truthful Word of God and see the hard things we’re called to do in the power of the Spirit, we falter. We remind ourselves that we’re not Jesus, so we can’t go boldly before His throne of grace.

We neglect the truth, the very point, of passages like this. Jesus gets it! He knows right where we are! He’s been there, knows exactly what is needed to navigate this exact struggle, this exact weakness, this exact journey of grief. And because He succeeded, He knows just what we need to get through it. So, instead of looking at us and saying, “If I can do it, anyone can,” He looks at us and says, “You can’t do this on your own. You need Me. My mercy. My grace. The very things I had at my disposal when I took on Your weakness. And I am giving you what no one else can: full and open access to all of it. All you have to do is come to Me and desire it. Ask for it. Receive it from My hand.”

Where are you struggling? Where are you weak? What are you failing to do no matter how hard you try? What are you seeming to do successfully on the surface while recognizing deep down that the cost is too high for you to keep it up?

Why can’t you just do it? Because you, like me, have fallen prey to the lie that you have no right to go boldly before the throne of grace. But Jesus says otherwise.

Let’s go boldly before His throne today.

Posted in Thoughts from Others

Before the Experience

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

There is a wise bit of advice often given to writers: write what you know. Obviously, knowledge of a topic can come either from experience or research, and there is a very solid place for research. (My amazing hubby’s research for his dissertation, for instance, is giving him a great deal of understanding!). But when it comes to writing about walking through life, it has often seemed to me that research without experience can lead to a sense of untested idealism. Advice is tied up in a neat package, but it leaves readers in the trenches feeling like failures because their experience doesn’t fit into the neat package that a writer presents.

I’m a practical person, so I tend to get frustrated by those who write out of a sense of idealism. This is why I have long felt that I need to have experience before I write. I need to be able to say, “I’ve been there!” Experience shines a light into corners that research never reaches, granting a sense of companionship and camaraderie between the writer and the reader. Because of this conviction, I’ve put certain topics on the shelf, convinced that I really don’t have a solid leg to stand on when it comes to writing on those topics, no matter how passionate I was about them and how much I’d studied them.

Then along came the story of an author I follow, and suddenly my conviction waffled.
Don’t get me wrong — I still don’t like untried idealism. But…well, let me tell you about Shelly Miller, and you’ll understand what I mean.

I first “met” Shelly Miller through her book Rhythms of Rest: Finding the Spirit of Sabbath in a Busy World. I’d been studying Sabbath as my family attempted to begin incorporating it into the fabric of our weekly lives, and Rhythms of Rest provided another source of insight. I found Shelly to be real and accessible, her insights presented from the perspective of one who had pushed through the complications of observing Sabbath in a culture that, well, didn’t. And, to top it all off, she knew what it meant to figure out Sabbath from within the world of ministry. All in all, Rhythms of Rest was obviously a book that stemmed from experience. I could trust Shelly to tell me like it was, not spout of some idealistic nonsense that a homeschooling pastor’s wife like me could never implement.

In late 2019, I started noticing references to a new book by Shelly Miller, one that would come out in 2020. It was entitled Searching for Certainty: Finding God in the Disruptions of Life. I immediately put it on my wish list. I knew the Millers had experienced their ups and downs, their times of struggle and uncertainty. I knew, once again, that I could trust her.

That was proven a few months later when Shelly was diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of cancer. Suddenly, the book she’d already written — the one that was just waiting to process through the steps necessary to get it to publication — was coming back to strengthen her. She found herself revisiting all that she had explored, studied, and researched to compile this book, almost afraid that it wouldn’t hold up to a real disruption. But it did. All that she’d studied was now proving true in her life, and she was drawing real comfort from the truths she’d written about.

Don’t get me wrong…she’d known before what it meant to find God in disruptions and uncertainties. But she was now experiencing a disruption greater than any she’d experienced before. And the truths were still holding up. God had prepared her. She thought she was sharing with her readers. Instead, she was storing up truths for what she and her family were about to face.

How powerful that the last book she’d ever get to write would also hold the very truths that she’d have to lean on to get her through her final months on earth.

So the question comes to me: Do I trust my God to be big enough to teach me truths before the experience, truths that will hold firm during the experience?

You see, there is research and study and experience. Then there is God. There’s a God who can teach us what we need before we need it. There’s a God who can build in us and prepare us and strengthen us. There’s training and growth that comes from experience, and then there’s training and growth that comes simply because we’re daily immersing ourselves in the Word, allowing ourselves to be taught by the Spirit, and dwelling in the presence of a holy, omniscient God who loves us and desires to equip us in every way.

That’s the God I want to serve.

The God who can teach me through it all.

While on the one hand, I need to be willing to admit when what I’ve said, taught, or written has been rife with idealism (because, trust me, I’ve been guilty of that!). But, sometimes I need to go ahead and say it, then prove that God is who He says He is when the time comes for the lessons to be tested.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

Not Today, Please

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Lately, I’ve been processing through some things I wrote years ago but never published. At the time, I was putting pressure on myself to organize my blog just so, taking time to design and maintain themes. And a lot of what I was writing either didn’t fit into the themes or took too much effort to design just right. So, it just got stored, waiting for…someday.

But there’s also another category of writing from those years. Thoughts that came from a place of deep struggle. Pain. Darkness, even. I don’t specifically remember writing the words, but I do remember never intending to publish any of that content. It felt too raw. I needed to process my feelings, but I did not believe I was free to show that side of myself to other people.

I know, and have always known, that we encourage others by sharing it all. Not just the good or nourishing. Not just the wrapped-up-in-a-pretty-package lessons after they have been learned. But the struggle, too. The hurt. The ugly. But it takes a lot to actually be the one to encourage that way. Not just the freedom of courage, but freedom in many other areas as well.

Today I am in a very different place with a new set of struggles but also a new fount of freedom. And today I found one of those posts that I never meant to publish. I have no idea what was happening at the time, but I know it’s not the only time I felt this way. Nor is is the most recent time I’ve felt that way. So, today, I’m going to do what I never intended to do. I’m going to take advantage of where I am right now and share it. And if you have ever felt this way, or even feel this way more often than not, I hope that today you can know you are not alone.

I’m just not feeling it today.

It’s one of those days when actually getting out of bed was a hard-won victory. One that took every ounce of the will power I had to accomplish anything. Real work, real productivity, real living all take too much effort. It would be so much easier to curl up with a book or lose myself in the mindlessness of social media. To just play. Goof off. Push it all aside. Or better yet, just hide completely. Be invisible.

To push aside the hurt of feeling unwanted – rejected, even – in the very thing that I thought was actually going well.
To walk away from the overwhelming feeling of being behind in everything.
To stop trying to succeed when at every turn I feel like I’m failing.

It would be so much easier.

And yet, I can’t. So, I wish I could write a poem like my precious daughter does. To get it all out in bare honesty. But that’s not part of who I am. I have to find my own way. Figure out my own release. Work this out in the way God created me to do so.

So, here I am. Tapping it out. Vaguely, yet openly. Not naming the hurt, yet seeing it in every word. Not exploring the sense of failure, but trying to recognize the truth behind the feeling. Not listing all that leaves me feeling overwhelmed, yet acknowledging the tension in my neck. My shoulders. My back. My head. And seeking that planner so I can create tangible to-dos to help focus my energy and relieve the pressure.

I’m not feeling it. But I’m going to do it. I’m going to dive into the work day. I’m going to accomplish tangible tasks. I’m going to choose progress, even when I’d rather curl up and hide.

And with that decision alone, I feel better.

Maybe I can do today after all.

Posted in Thoughts from Life

5 Simple Steps

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

Recently someone I knew recommended an article as “good” and “helpful.” It was on a topic of interest to me, discussing an area where I have been seeking to grow, so I went ahead and clicked the link. And I was immediately deflated and reminded why I don’t typically click such links.

Oh, the suggestions in it were accurate. They were all things you should do. But they were all the most basic suggestions imaginable. The obvious. The starting point. They weren’t suggestions for those who were actually struggling to find encouragement and guidance in the work itself.

Imagine it this way.

You are trying to give someone guidance on how to learn to cook, so you give them these five pointers:

  • Gain access to a kitchen.
  • Make sure the kitchen is stocked well with pots, pans, sturdy cooking utensils, and a good set of knives.
  • Always have salt and pepper on hand, and consider a few additional spices.
  • Find a recipe you want to prepare and go grocery shopping.
  • Make sure you set out all of your ingredients and supplies before starting to cook.

All of those tips are accurate, right? But, do they really teach someone to cook? Even if you were to add a paragraph under each point, ensuring more clarity about what it meant to be “stocked well” or what to pay attention to when seeking recipes, there is still so much lacking. This doesn’t teach someone how to cook. At all. In fact, an individual who had never cooked before would probably be headed for disaster if this were their sole source of encouragement and instruction.

And yet, this is what we have to offer, not just for beginners but also for those veterans who find themselves stuck and in need of help. Five quick tips to ensure success in parenting, marriage, other relationships, business, ministry, homeschooling, political engagement, job hunting, navigating menopause, battling mental health…you name it. These are the suggestions handed down by the people who are successful. The people who have “made it.”

People are floundering because of it. They are discouraged and frustrated. They feel like failures because they’ve tried all the best tips and still can’t seem to figure things out. They have believed the lie that they can never be successful simply because they can’t take these five simple tips handed out by the “experts” and produce a five-star meal.

I’ve been guilty of writing these articles just to produce content. But I’ve also been on the side of frustration and failure when the articles do nothing to really help me figure out solutions.

So, what is the solution?

Relationship. Community. Real hands-in-the-dirt work and partnership.

You see, the problem with the cooking suggestions is not that the guidance is wrong. It is instead that we have decided to give people a witty 400-800 word article instead of instruction and aid. We have chosen to keep our distance and offer our brilliant, simple points rather than walk through learning with someone. Because if we were to do that, we know we would inevitably hit upon some uncomfortable truths.

We’d see that not everyone has what we had when we were learning the same lessons. Some people are coming from very different circumstances. Others have different strengths and talents. Different skills. Different manners of thinking and approaching life.

And that makes training messy. It means that it’s not a one-size fits-all proposition. And it means that sometimes we have to admit we don’t know all of the answers. It means that we have to recognize our own need to keep learning. We haven’t actually “made it” after all.

We don’t like to be put in that position. The 5 Simple Steps approach is so much easier.

And never successful.

We have so much more to give. Will we make the effort to build the relationships and invest the time necessary to give it?

Posted in Perspective

A Quarter of a Tank

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I like word pictures. They help me take abstract thoughts and ideas and turn them into practical realizations.

Recently, something I read or heard about mental health filled my mind with a word picture that overwhelmed me with stark awareness. I don’t remember what exactly triggered the image, but I remember how powerful it was. Our society is becoming more open to discussing mental health and the impacts of anxiety, depression, and other mental health issues. Even neurodivergence is garnering more positive discussion these days. But, those who have never personally interacted with neurodivergence or mental health issues still have a hard time grasping what the challenges really look like.

That’s where word pictures can be incredibly helpful. Shall I share mine with you?

Imagine you own a car that looks great and sounds/runs fine once it’s started. But, the simple act of starting it uses up three-quarters of a tank of gas. Every. Single. Time. And, I’ll be honest, I’ve never owned a vehicle that uses that last quarter of a tank of gas as efficiently as the first quarter of a tank. So, you can’t do as much on that last quarter of a tank as you could with the first quarter of a tank were you starting from full.

Some people, especially those living day-in and day-out with depression, anxiety, or other such quiet, nearly invisible challenges are like that car. It takes 75% (if not more) of their supply of will power just to get out of bed. Then, as with a car that has to stay idling all day just so you don’t have to restart it (since you don’t have enough gas to do so), much of what’s left is consumed with trying to figure out where to even begin with the rest of the day.

It’s easy to look at that person and say, “If you would just do _____ or have _____ attitude, it would help you and you’d feel better.” But, there are a lot of ______s to do, and they add up so quickly. And that “easy” attitude adjustment requires so much energy, will power, and discipline. All of those things that should be simple are not. A healthy person can do those things and barely use up an ounce of gas. Not so for someone running on that bottom quarter of a tank. It might cost them a gallon, an incredibly high cost.

Someone in your life operates on that quarter of a tank day in and day out. Everything expected of them is extraordinarily costly. And they’re afraid that tomorrow it will take 80% of their allotment to get started, maybe even 90% by next week. So, they’re hoarding. Protecting.

I wish I could say that there was an easy fix to help them eliminate the start-up consumption, but there’s not. Eventually, some of them can find ways to improve their car’s efficiency or even get a new car. But for now, they’re just doing the best they can, and they’re doing it with the assumption that their struggle is not going to be understood. That they’re just going to be handed “simple” solutions from a society that wants them to pull it together and just be “normal.”

Maybe there is a better option. Maybe instead of feeling like someone who needs to be fixed, they simply need to feel seen and understood. Who knows what that simple act of understanding can accomplish?

Posted in What I Do, Work & Life

Do It Anyway

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I’m a writer.

For a long time, I resisted referring to myself that way. I did not feel that my piddly efforts truly qualified me to claim the title. I accepted the title of blogger. I talked about my love for writing. But, a writer? No, that was a title for someone who made a living writing. Someone who did not have a gazillion other things taking precedence. Someone I could only hope to be someday.

My husband finally helped me realize my faulty reasoning. I may not be writing the way I would love to be writing, but I am a writer. I can’t get away from that reality.

Unfortunately, being a writer does not automatically mean it comes easily. It does not always produce the results I hope for or flow as consistently as I would desire. The blog I hope to keep constantly fresh sometimes remains stagnant. The stories and ideas that have floated in my head for years are still there, changing, evolving, and growing as they wait to be birthed.

But one thing I have learned is this: if I do not write, I do not produce. If I do not write regularly, I do not write well. If I do not remain in practice, I do not enjoy writing. It still stirs within me. I still feel compelled to do it. But, it is much harder than it should be. My brain does not work as it should – not just in writing, but in all areas of life!

So, I have learned a very important lesson: I have to just go ahead and write. Constantly. Continuously. No matter what it is or where it ends up. It might remain in a Scrivener note, hiding away until I revisit it months or years later to re-evaluate whether or not it is even worth publishing. It might be something for work that will not even bear my name. Perhaps it is something that will go into another publication. Maybe it is a letter or e-mail, expressing my thoughts to a friend or a reference helping another friend secure a job or position.

I have to go ahead and write even if the thought is terrible. Even if the flow just won’t come. Even if the idea is good, but the implementation will need a lot of work before anyone can make any sense of it.

Whatever the case may be, I just have to do it.

There are a lot of things that stand in the way of writing. Time pressures of life as I balance homeschooling, work, and ministry responsibilities with being available to my family and being engaged with friends. Negative thoughts and feelings that flow through my mind on a daily basis telling me I’m not good enough. A to-do list that screams, “This is more important!” The extra things of design and social interaction that seem required in the writing world these days – things I’m not really that good at. The need to learn more about writing, even as I’m working to do it with what I know.

So many things try to distract and derail me. But, I have to do it anyway.

What is it that you need to “do anyway”? What talents and skills has God laid upon you that must be practiced, honed, and utilized daily? What is it that seems to be threatened on all sides by the rest of life?

Whatever it may be, do it anyway. It’s worth it. Then encourage someone else – including me! I may not like it, but I know I’ll need the reminder tomorrow.

Posted in Thoughts from Life, Thoughts from Scripture

My Purpose?

Posted on by Ann B. Hibbard

I intended to write something new today, but I’m also continuing to work back through old blog posts to see if they can be republished, need to be worked, or should just be tossed. This one caught my attention this morning. I needed this perspective reminder!

I wonder if David ever had writer’s block.

You laugh. But, when I see all that he wrote, I wonder if he ever wanted to write, but couldn’t. I wonder how many of his prayers never saw the light of day.

Last week I tried to write, but I never could accomplish what I wanted to say. So, I let the week slide by without really writing. Then this week.

But now I sit here thinking about David. And I realize something.

David left behind wonderful words, but not because he had to meet writing deadlines or make sure something was up on the tabernacle bulletin board. No, David’s songs were the expression of what welled up inside of him. Was his relationship with the Lord vibrant and whole? Then words of praise flowed. Was he distant and feeling it? Then despair poured from his lips, rising to the only One who could draw him back to vibrancy.

Last week I tried to write simply because I wanted to have something up on my blog. And I did not succeed. I think it was because I forgot this verse:

Whether, then, you eat or drink or whatever you do, do all to the glory of God. 1 Corinthians 10:31

(And just to be contextual here, the audience receiving this instruction was dealing with honoring God in the midst of a pretty messed up society. I think I have it easy.)

Whether David was up or down, his songs pointed to God. They were for His glory. They lifted up His name. They hashed through the human struggle of trusting a God whose ways cannot always be understood. But they always came back to the reminder that His ways are right, whether David understood or not.

David’s songs were for the glory of God.

Did all of David’s actions glorify God? No. Did David always feel like glorifying God? It’s doubtful. But his legacy, his enduring songs, were all written for the glory of God. And David’s life was most right when his actions intentionally honored God.

What are we striving for this week? What is our purpose? Is it to check something off the to-do list? Is it to keep up with a habit we decided to establish in our lives? Is it to meet someone else’s expectations?

How much better will it be if we strive only to glorify God in every little thing?

And I mean everything.

Work, play, hobbies, life necessities…everything.

I am sure David had days in which he wanted to sing a new song, but he was not faithfully singing that new song for God’s glory. And I bet it was harder to sing on those days. Just like it is harder for me to write on those days. Or work. Or play. Or meet my family’s needs. Or do anything.

Let’s get back to 1 Corinthians 10:31 living. No matter what our circumstances, let’s do all to the glory of God. And let’s see how He shines through our efforts.