There’s Only One Holy Spirit, and It’s Not Me…or You
No one enters a season of ministry thinking, “I’m going to use my offering to the Lord as a method of punishment and guilt against my brothers and sisters in Christ.”
But unless we remember some very important principles, that is exactly what can happen. Especially when we are bridging the gap between church staff and volunteers.
Passion for our calling can quickly become a tool of Biblical guilt when wielded against our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ.
None of us mean for this to happen, so let’s take a deeper look at how my passion turns into your shame.
When the Holy Spirit calls a believer into a ministry of using their spiritual gifts, there is a beautiful and redemptive picture of a life laid down in offering to the Lord. There is purpose and assurance. However, a believer who is serving in a ministry because they feel a sense of guilt or even a deep people-pleasing mentality, there is exhaustion and ultimately resentment and disillusionment.
This is where, as a spiritual leader, we have to lean in and discern God’s purpose for ourselves and for our ministry. And when we make sure we are on the same page as God, then we can trust Him to bring those who He has called to serve alongside us.
We can lead our ministry off-center when as well-meaning, passion-filled people, we attempt to fill the role of the Holy Spirit in anyone else’s life and tell them where and how they should be serving.
So what are the practical steps we can take to ensure this does not happen?
I’m going to say something that will, at first, sound controversial. I promise it’s not, so hang in there.
First, stay in your lane. Then take those blinders off so you don’t get tunnel vision.
Here’s what I mean.
Staying in our lane means understanding that my calling is not necessarily your calling. Listen again, my calling is not necessarily your calling.Taking the blinders off means you graciously work as a team, a Body.
Here is an example (and I promise this is a random example and not towards anyone or any ministry). Chill out and don’t become easily offended. That’s another step, but I digress.
Perhaps God has called me to widows’ ministry, and I joyfully serve in this ministry. And because I joyfully serve, I want others to serve with me. No fault there. But here’s the rub: maybe my sister in Christ has a calling on her life to work with foster kids, and even though she certainly can serve the widows with love and honor, she will not feel whole in her personal walk with God until she is living in her own calling, not yours.
Just because you or I or your brother or sister CAN fulfill a ministry need, it does not mean we or they SHOULD.
A calling is a God thing, not a you or me thing.
If God has called you to a ministry, He will fulfill the needs you have for help within the Body.
Now for those blinders.
The church is a Body of believers, not just a big toe pushing itself over the finish line! Work together or you will find yourself working exhausted and alone.
Next, be sure the work you are doing within your calling is in line with God’s calling. Sometimes, we are guilty of planning events rather than ministry. I’m not saying events are bad in any way! Events offer fellowship for our church body and our community. Events are opportunities to share the Gospel and the love of God with others who might not otherwise come to a Sunday morning gathering.
But…we should count the cost first.
What is the purpose?
Does it honor God or highlight us?
What is the practical plan for making this happen?
Do we have enough volunteers onboard with the plan to make it successful?
These questions remind me of an old adage I heard on a woodworking show (yes, my husband loves woodworking, “Measure twice and cut once”
Before an event moves forward, it is wise to sit down with staff, to sit down with those involved in the ministry, and to assess the need and the desire for this event to happen.
And here is the hard part, if you don’t have enough volunteers willing to help…then you might want to consider holding off. It might not be a ‘no’ but a ‘wait’.
Better to serve with excellence than mediocrity.
And if people say no, oh this is hard, it is not our job to tell them how God has gifted them for OUR service and they are disobedient to Him when they tell us no.
Ouch.
Obviously, the Holy Spirit may impress upon us, or the person may ask what we think. That’s a different scenario and must be addressed with love and grace and discernment. But in general, we have to let God deal with His other kids.
I promise, you and I have enough to deal with in our own Spiritual walk.
Finally, express appreciation.
I cannot say it enough!
The world is full of people who will take advantage of those who are tenderhearted enough to offer a helping hand.
Don’t be one of those people!
And yes, they are within the church…and might I say in my own mirror at times.
People desperately need to know they matter.
Never should your volunteers leave an event without knowing you appreciate them being there.
Always remember, your job is their volunteer time.
They are not obligated to be where you think they should be.
Be thankful.
For servants in the Body, whether that is staff or leadership roles within the church, we are called to a higher purpose.
And it is not always easy.
This old saying still holds true, “ministry would be a whole lot easier without the people.” And I say, “Amen, ain’t that the truth?”
All joking aside, we are in the people business.
Not only are we in the people business, we are in God’s people business.
Steward the calling well, friends.
Author: rmcwhirter
When Grief Comes Again poem
When Grief Comes Again
Unexpected…Unwelcome…
That’s how grief enters my world.
Not once—but over and over again.
That is the work of loss.
There is no timetable. No expiration date. No finish line—at least not here in this world—for the ache and longing that mark grief’s presence.
And so often it comes when I least expect it.
A song I’ve heard a hundred times begins to play, and suddenly all I can hear is the sweet echo of a voice no longer beside me.
The smell of a favorite meal rises in the kitchen, and with it comes the quiet sting of remembering the Mom who cooked it best.
Beauty and pain, side by side.
And in that space, I find myself once again entering the valley I had hoped to leave behind—the valley of the shadow. But loss is not a place we pass through quickly. It is a process. A journey. It cannot be rushed, and there are no shortcuts.
Over time, I’ve come to recognize three realms of loss:
the loss of what was,
the loss of what could have been,
and the loss of what will never be.
There is the loss of what was.
I will forever miss Sunday night suppers at Mama’s house. The house that feels too quiet now still holds a treasury of laughter and love. I miss Elvis sing-alongs in my car, “Hello Darling” playing softly while the sunlight danced in her smile.
The memories are good.
But I miss her.
Then there is the loss of what could have been.
This one is harder. Almost like grief, part two.
It carries regret. And regret can spiral into endless cycles of self-blame—and sometimes even anger toward God. This is the “why” stage for me.
Why didn’t I take her shopping more often?
Why didn’t I linger longer?
How could I have been anywhere but at her side when she slipped into eternity?
Why?
But there is no going back. Only forward.
And that leads me to the final realm: the loss of what will never be.
There will be an empty seat at her grandchildren’s weddings.
The arms that would have held new babies in our family will never cradle them—not in our sight, anyway.
The loss of what will never be is, at its core, the slow work of letting go.
Here we are forced to loosen our grip on what was, and release the exhausting ache of what could have been. We cannot live in a “what if” world. We must keep walking.
My loved one died, yet I am alive.
She has reached Home, and I am still traveling.
Her pain is finished, her healing complete—yet my heart is still healing. And I am not there yet.
But I serve the very same Savior who welcomed her with open arms.
The One who healed her will, in His time, heal me.
The One who gathers broken pieces and creates something beautiful from them.
And there are glimmers—small rays of light that remind me He is holding me.
The tears still fall. And that’s okay. Tears cleanse. They soften.
Now, when I see the pain in others walking this road, I understand. I love differently—a softer, deeper kind of love.
His love.
After all, I hurt because I loved.
And love—even when it carries loss—is still a gift.
One I will open again and again.
.
Unexpected…Unwelcome…
That’s how grief enters my world.
Not once—but over and over again.
That is the work of loss.
There is no timetable. No expiration date. No finish line—at least not here in this world—for the ache and longing that mark grief’s presence.
And so often it comes when I least expect it.
A song I’ve heard a hundred times begins to play, and suddenly all I can hear is the sweet echo of a voice no longer beside me.
The smell of a favorite meal rises in the kitchen, and with it comes the quiet sting of remembering the Mom who cooked it best.
Beauty and pain, side by side.
And in that space, I find myself once again entering the valley I had hoped to leave behind—the valley of the shadow. But loss is not a place we pass through quickly. It is a process. A journey. It cannot be rushed, and there are no shortcuts.
Over time, I’ve come to recognize three realms of loss:
the loss of what was,
the loss of what could have been,
and the loss of what will never be.
There is the loss of what was.
I will forever miss Sunday night suppers at Mama’s house. The house that feels too quiet now still holds a treasury of laughter and love. I miss Elvis sing-alongs in my car, “Hello Darling” playing softly while the sunlight danced in her smile.
The memories are good.
But I miss her.
Then there is the loss of what could have been.
This one is harder. Almost like grief, part two.
It carries regret. And regret can spiral into endless cycles of self-blame—and sometimes even anger toward God. This is the “why” stage for me.
Why didn’t I take her shopping more often?
Why didn’t I linger longer?
How could I have been anywhere but at her side when she slipped into eternity?
Why?
But there is no going back. Only forward.
And that leads me to the final realm: the loss of what will never be.
There will be an empty seat at her grandchildren’s weddings.
The arms that would have held new babies in our family will never cradle them—not in our sight, anyway.
The loss of what will never be is, at its core, the slow work of letting go.
Here we are forced to loosen our grip on what was, and release the exhausting ache of what could have been. We cannot live in a “what if” world. We must keep walking.
My loved one died, yet I am alive.
She has reached Home, and I am still traveling.
Her pain is finished, her healing complete—yet my heart is still healing. And I am not there yet.
But I serve the very same Savior who welcomed her with open arms.
The One who healed her will, in His time, heal me.
The One who gathers broken pieces and creates something beautiful from them.
And there are glimmers—small rays of light that remind me He is holding me.
The tears still fall. And that’s okay. Tears cleanse. They soften.
Now, when I see the pain in others walking this road, I understand. I love differently—a softer, deeper kind of love.
His love.
After all, I hurt because I loved.
And love—even when it carries loss—is still a gift.
One I will open again and again.
.
When Grief Comes Again
When Grief Comes Again
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” — Psalm 23:4
Unexpected. Unwelcome.
That’s how grief enters—again and again.
There is no timetable for loss. No expiration date on longing. No finish line for the ache that settles into the heart when someone we love is no longer here. Grief does not politely announce its arrival. It appears in ordinary moments—a familiar song, the scent of a favorite meal, sunlight catching a memory just right.
Beauty and pain, side by side.
Just when we think we have moved beyond the valley, we find ourselves walking through it once more. But grief is not a place we pass through quickly. It is a journey. And there are no shortcuts.
Over time, I’ve come to see three realms of loss.
First, there is the loss of what was. The cherished routines. The laughter-filled rooms. The simple Sundays that once felt ordinary but now feel sacred. Memories remain—good and precious—but they do not replace presence. And so we miss them.
Then comes the loss of what could have been. This one often hurts more. It carries regret. The “why” questions surface. Why didn’t I stay longer? Why didn’t I say more? Why wasn’t I there? Regret can spiral into self-blame, and even anger toward God. But no amount of replaying the past can rewrite it. We cannot go back. We can only move forward.
Finally, there is the loss of what will never be. The empty seat at weddings. The arms that will never hold new babies. The milestones that will unfold without them beside us. This realm of loss requires something painfully difficult: letting go. Not forgetting—but releasing the life we imagined and entrusting it to God.
My loved one has reached Home. Her pain is finished. Her healing is complete. But I am still here. Still walking. Still healing.
And yet, I serve the same Savior who welcomed her. The One who gathers broken pieces and fashions beauty from them. In quiet ways, He reminds me that I am not alone in the valley.
The tears still fall. But tears cleanse and soften the heart. Grief has changed me. It has deepened my compassion. I see others differently now. I love differently—a softer, gentler love.
After all, I hurt because I loved.
And love—even when marked by loss—is still a gift.
One I will open again and again.
“Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me.” — Psalm 23:4
Unexpected. Unwelcome.
That’s how grief enters—again and again.
There is no timetable for loss. No expiration date on longing. No finish line for the ache that settles into the heart when someone we love is no longer here. Grief does not politely announce its arrival. It appears in ordinary moments—a familiar song, the scent of a favorite meal, sunlight catching a memory just right.
Beauty and pain, side by side.
Just when we think we have moved beyond the valley, we find ourselves walking through it once more. But grief is not a place we pass through quickly. It is a journey. And there are no shortcuts.
Over time, I’ve come to see three realms of loss.
First, there is the loss of what was. The cherished routines. The laughter-filled rooms. The simple Sundays that once felt ordinary but now feel sacred. Memories remain—good and precious—but they do not replace presence. And so we miss them.
Then comes the loss of what could have been. This one often hurts more. It carries regret. The “why” questions surface. Why didn’t I stay longer? Why didn’t I say more? Why wasn’t I there? Regret can spiral into self-blame, and even anger toward God. But no amount of replaying the past can rewrite it. We cannot go back. We can only move forward.
Finally, there is the loss of what will never be. The empty seat at weddings. The arms that will never hold new babies. The milestones that will unfold without them beside us. This realm of loss requires something painfully difficult: letting go. Not forgetting—but releasing the life we imagined and entrusting it to God.
My loved one has reached Home. Her pain is finished. Her healing is complete. But I am still here. Still walking. Still healing.
And yet, I serve the same Savior who welcomed her. The One who gathers broken pieces and fashions beauty from them. In quiet ways, He reminds me that I am not alone in the valley.
The tears still fall. But tears cleanse and soften the heart. Grief has changed me. It has deepened my compassion. I see others differently now. I love differently—a softer, gentler love.
After all, I hurt because I loved.
And love—even when marked by loss—is still a gift.
One I will open again and again.
Learning to Rest Guilt-Free
Rest? What’s that?
Today began like every other day, at least every other day lately…a day filled with to-do lists and grand expectations which I already knew could not, and dare I say, should not, be met.
And ya’ll it’s my day off! Yes, I hear what you’re saying, a day off has a purpose: rest. But why, oh why, does the idea of rest cast a shadow of guilt over me? Why do I hide in the Target aisle hoping no one sees that I took some time off just to …gulp…relax? Why do I feel guilty when I meet my friend for lunch instead of skipping lunch to finish a work project? Why will I not turn my phone on ‘do not disturb’ at the gym for that sweet 40 minutes of ‘me’ time? Why?
I want to be respectful and answer every text immediately. I want to answer that work call even though it is 10pm at night. I want to be patient with my elderly relative when he calls with the millionth request for information just because he is extremely lonely. But here’s the problem – I am exhausted, the well is dry.
This guilt of not being productive every second of every day can virtually eat me up. And my guess is, you know what I’m talking about. You know because you feel it too. It is crazy unhealthy behavior, and girl, we’ve got to figure it out.
So to that end, I have been doing some knee-deep soul searching and think maybe, just maybe, I might have an idea. It’s just a little inkling of an idea, but we have to start somewhere. So like a tiny candle in an immense darkness, let’s see if we can make our way out of this self-imposed prison of guilt. Let’s jump off that treadmill of neverending chores to see if we can learn a fantastic secret. Shhh…are you ready?
I have allowed my spiritual gifts to become my spiritual liabilities.
And all God’s girls say ‘Ouch’. How in the world does that happen? You’ve probably heard the saying, ‘Too much of a good thing is a bad thing.’
Mercy present in your life? Fantastic! Me too. Big gift I have. Compassion? Oh yeah! Can that gift be used incorrectly? Ummm…now we’re getting somewhere.
Mercy and compassion can be a gift God uses in our lives to love people and reach them with His love, or mercy and compassion can be a liability where we become distractions that take the focus off the fullness of God and point the camera straight at ourselves. It’s almost like we are saying, “It’s a huge, heavy burden, but hey everyone, you need me!”
Am I addicted to your approval?
Do we do it intentionally? Probably not.
But nonetheless, the result is the same.
I heard a story a long time ago about a gal happily pulling her little red wagon up a gentle, rolling hill. Now in my mind’s eye, that girl is smiling as the sun shines down on her and the birds sing cheerily. Now as the story goes, the girl encounters a fellow wagon-pulling friend who mentions that her wagon is kind of heavy and maybe could our smiling red-wagon gal just add one more rock to her wagon. Our girl is filled with compassion for this tired traveler and agrees. No big deal. Good deed is done, and the purposeful feeling of being a hero brings yet another smile from our red wagon pulling friend. But another and another and another wandering traveler needs just a bit of help until the red wagon is so heavy the smiling girl has lost her smile. The song in her heart has gone silent. No one meant to be a particular burden, honestly no one thought that much about it. The travelers head on lighter while the red wagon becomes unbearably heavy. Then our girl cries out to God asking why He allowed such a heavy load. I imagine the Lord’s response as He looks at her wagon filled with work that did not belong to her, burdens she wasn’t asked to bear, and pain never meant for her life. Maybe He might even say to her (and might the echo reach our ears,
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11: 28-30
Our gift of mercy is not meant to exhaust us or, hear me, to fulfill us by extending ourselves as a lifeline to a desperate soul. No, our mercy is to showcase the mercy and compassion of the only One who can carry their burdens, and spoiler alert…it’s not me and you. We are to guide the weary travelers to Jesus, the only One able to save and give true rest.
Him. Not me.
So calm down, sister!
Despite how you and I feel, IF all those world weary travelers have wagons needing to get to the top of the hill, God will provide a way for them to get there.
And it might be you. But then again, it might not.
Or maybe, just maybe that wagon never needed to get up the dadgum hill in the first place. That’s a definite possibility we overachievers need to accept.
We can’t fix every problem. We can’t meet every need.
We will disappoint some. We must learn to lay down our burdens and rest.
How does the gift of mercy get so far askew? Obviously, I can’t speak to your specifics, but as for me, being a people pleaser that refuses to create boundaries might just be a good place to start.
Desperately, I want people to be happy. Hopelessly, I try to meet everyone’s needs. Painfully, I disappoint myself (and in my mind, everyone else) daily.
So here we are. Boundaries are essential and actually wonderful gifts the Lord gives us to protect His best plan for our lives when we just might be willing to give up the best for what the world says is our better. Did you catch that?
His best…Our better
Don’t be fooled. His best IS our best. Every time.
Alright, let’s do this – boundaries – what are they and why are they important?
The definition of a boundary is as follows, “A line that marks the limits of an area. A dividing line.”
A boundary is an honest, kind method of laying out our needs and expectations in such a way that those we connect with can understand.
This…right here…this is the limit. This is the dividing line.
I like to picture Gandalf as he stands guarding the bridge in The Lord of the Rings, “This far and no farther!”
We have to set our own boundaries because despite my hope that others would kindly honor mine…they won’t.
I’m not saying all people are bad and out to take advantage of you (you do it too you know), what I am saying is that we are self-focused. I mean, I’m me, and I think about me so yeah, it’s kind of all about me!
We are all this way. It’s that sin nature strutting its stuff in our lives.
Here’s the thing: No one is going to respect a boundary they can’t see.
Creating a clarity of boundary lines is my job.
Keeping it firmly established despite those who might push back? Also…my job.
Yes, it is good to be helpful and kind, but that does not mean I have to be available 24/7 to every person in my life.
Yes, it is right to do my very best at work, but I am not doing anyone any good if I burn out.
Yes, my family needs me, but I am not helping them if I become a crutch that takes their dependence off Jesus and places it on myself.
We have to be willing to disappoint people from time to time.
We have to learn to be okay with others struggling under their own load.
And if they fill their wagons with the wrong load, that is not your fault.
Back to that wagon, if we allow anyone except God to fill our little red wagons, we might make it up that stinking hill, but it will be a heavy burden. It will be a relentlessly difficult and joy-less journey. Don’t give up God’s best for your life.
Carry your own wagon, and let everyone else carry theirs. Just as God gives you strength for the journey, so will He give those around you the particular strength they need for their journey. Don’t rob them of a closer walk with Jesus.
Let me say it gently, my friends.
There is a time we are called to stand in the gap for others. We are to stand in the gap with prayers and love and obedience to God. But there is a big difference between standing in the gap and standing between another person and God’s purpose, perhaps even discipline that leads to repentance. One is done out of obedience to God and love for people, but the other tries to take a place meant only for the Creator and Savior.
When we don’t clearly lay out and stand by our boundaries, say no when it is not our best yes…then we are standing between other people and their walk with God.
Their spiritual growth and renewal is not yours to give or your burden to bear.
Lay it down.
For them, for you.
My people pleasing friends, hear me when I say this:
Their expectations are not your responsibility.
Did you listen?
I’m gonna say it again: Their expectations are not your responsibility.
I know, saying it is one thing but putting it into practice is quite another. It’s hard.
I GET IT 100%. If you know me, you know this is an area of continual struggle. So we are in this together.
So maybe let’s talk about the practical aspects of being a recovering people pleaser who is allowing the gracious gifts of mercy and compassion to be misused, abused, and otherwise unhealthily wielded.
Part of being a people pleaser is feeling like you literally CANNOT rest. At least not in peace. Folks like to say “Rest in Peace” when someone passes from this life. I think I can more fully recognize the beauty in that statement. But here’s the thing: I want to learn to rest in peace in the here and now.
According to Scripture, we don’t have to wait for Heaven for rest.
Let’s go back to our verses from earlier:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11:28-30
Look at some key words with me.
Come…we willingly bring our burdens to Jesus.
Rest…he alone gives rest.
And look at this next part: “Take My yoke…” God isn’t saying rest means the absence of work! Don’t miss this. Work is a wonderful part of our calling, but the easy and light work is when we carry His yoke, not our own. He has given us good gifts to bless others, magnify Him, and all while giving us rest for our souls. Rest is embedded into His work. If the work we are doing is a burden, then we are either not doing it in His strength or we are doing the wrong work.
Rest is a holy gift from a good Father. And might I add, God didn’t just suggest rest, in fact, He commanded it.
So ease off on the guilt.
When we rest, we are not being selfish. We are being obedient.
Rest and renewal are built into us just as surely as the seasons change in their time. Just like the earth, we are built for seasons of rest. The newness of spring gives way to the growth of summer and then to autumn’s harvest, but watch this, all of these times of growth and work are followed by a season of rest.
The earth rests.
Don’t be ashamed to rest. It is a gift of God. And for the sake of our sanity, our joy, and our witness, we must get this right.
You may have patiently listened to my long-winded people pleasing admission and think to yourself, “Well, thank goodness that’s not me. I know how to say no.”
Well, good for you.
But ummm…might you know someone who is struggling to say no? Could you be a part of their struggle? Are you part of the reason someone can’t seem to get that boundary built before tearing it down with their own hands to please you and meet your needs?
Okay, enough said.
I’m just saying, we can all do better.
I prefer to build bridges and not boundaries.
I’d honestly rather work than rest, it makes me feel valuable and needed.
But girls, I want to walk in full obedience with my Lord. And to do that, I need to clear out my wagon and wait for Him to fill it up.
And I need, oh how desperately I need, to rest.
Let’s make a pact. We can do this together. Find a Jesus loving sister and ask her to hold you accountable.
Pick up your chalk and get to drawing that boundary.
I see you! Put that eraser down. We are strong, we are capable, we are tired. But we are going to do better.
We are going to learn to rest. God said so, and I say, “Yes, Lord.”
P.S. Oh, and if you see me at Target trying to hide in the frozen food section pretending to be productively gathering groceries because I’m embarrassed to be wandering the aisles with no goal in mind…please just smile and be on your way. We’re all a work in progress. This girl is learning to rest and let go of perfection filled expectations.
Today began like every other day, at least every other day lately…a day filled with to-do lists and grand expectations which I already knew could not, and dare I say, should not, be met.
And ya’ll it’s my day off! Yes, I hear what you’re saying, a day off has a purpose: rest. But why, oh why, does the idea of rest cast a shadow of guilt over me? Why do I hide in the Target aisle hoping no one sees that I took some time off just to …gulp…relax? Why do I feel guilty when I meet my friend for lunch instead of skipping lunch to finish a work project? Why will I not turn my phone on ‘do not disturb’ at the gym for that sweet 40 minutes of ‘me’ time? Why?
I want to be respectful and answer every text immediately. I want to answer that work call even though it is 10pm at night. I want to be patient with my elderly relative when he calls with the millionth request for information just because he is extremely lonely. But here’s the problem – I am exhausted, the well is dry.
This guilt of not being productive every second of every day can virtually eat me up. And my guess is, you know what I’m talking about. You know because you feel it too. It is crazy unhealthy behavior, and girl, we’ve got to figure it out.
So to that end, I have been doing some knee-deep soul searching and think maybe, just maybe, I might have an idea. It’s just a little inkling of an idea, but we have to start somewhere. So like a tiny candle in an immense darkness, let’s see if we can make our way out of this self-imposed prison of guilt. Let’s jump off that treadmill of neverending chores to see if we can learn a fantastic secret. Shhh…are you ready?
I have allowed my spiritual gifts to become my spiritual liabilities.
And all God’s girls say ‘Ouch’. How in the world does that happen? You’ve probably heard the saying, ‘Too much of a good thing is a bad thing.’
Mercy present in your life? Fantastic! Me too. Big gift I have. Compassion? Oh yeah! Can that gift be used incorrectly? Ummm…now we’re getting somewhere.
Mercy and compassion can be a gift God uses in our lives to love people and reach them with His love, or mercy and compassion can be a liability where we become distractions that take the focus off the fullness of God and point the camera straight at ourselves. It’s almost like we are saying, “It’s a huge, heavy burden, but hey everyone, you need me!”
Am I addicted to your approval?
Do we do it intentionally? Probably not.
But nonetheless, the result is the same.
I heard a story a long time ago about a gal happily pulling her little red wagon up a gentle, rolling hill. Now in my mind’s eye, that girl is smiling as the sun shines down on her and the birds sing cheerily. Now as the story goes, the girl encounters a fellow wagon-pulling friend who mentions that her wagon is kind of heavy and maybe could our smiling red-wagon gal just add one more rock to her wagon. Our girl is filled with compassion for this tired traveler and agrees. No big deal. Good deed is done, and the purposeful feeling of being a hero brings yet another smile from our red wagon pulling friend. But another and another and another wandering traveler needs just a bit of help until the red wagon is so heavy the smiling girl has lost her smile. The song in her heart has gone silent. No one meant to be a particular burden, honestly no one thought that much about it. The travelers head on lighter while the red wagon becomes unbearably heavy. Then our girl cries out to God asking why He allowed such a heavy load. I imagine the Lord’s response as He looks at her wagon filled with work that did not belong to her, burdens she wasn’t asked to bear, and pain never meant for her life. Maybe He might even say to her (and might the echo reach our ears,
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11: 28-30
Our gift of mercy is not meant to exhaust us or, hear me, to fulfill us by extending ourselves as a lifeline to a desperate soul. No, our mercy is to showcase the mercy and compassion of the only One who can carry their burdens, and spoiler alert…it’s not me and you. We are to guide the weary travelers to Jesus, the only One able to save and give true rest.
Him. Not me.
So calm down, sister!
Despite how you and I feel, IF all those world weary travelers have wagons needing to get to the top of the hill, God will provide a way for them to get there.
And it might be you. But then again, it might not.
Or maybe, just maybe that wagon never needed to get up the dadgum hill in the first place. That’s a definite possibility we overachievers need to accept.
We can’t fix every problem. We can’t meet every need.
We will disappoint some. We must learn to lay down our burdens and rest.
How does the gift of mercy get so far askew? Obviously, I can’t speak to your specifics, but as for me, being a people pleaser that refuses to create boundaries might just be a good place to start.
Desperately, I want people to be happy. Hopelessly, I try to meet everyone’s needs. Painfully, I disappoint myself (and in my mind, everyone else) daily.
So here we are. Boundaries are essential and actually wonderful gifts the Lord gives us to protect His best plan for our lives when we just might be willing to give up the best for what the world says is our better. Did you catch that?
His best…Our better
Don’t be fooled. His best IS our best. Every time.
Alright, let’s do this – boundaries – what are they and why are they important?
The definition of a boundary is as follows, “A line that marks the limits of an area. A dividing line.”
A boundary is an honest, kind method of laying out our needs and expectations in such a way that those we connect with can understand.
This…right here…this is the limit. This is the dividing line.
I like to picture Gandalf as he stands guarding the bridge in The Lord of the Rings, “This far and no farther!”
We have to set our own boundaries because despite my hope that others would kindly honor mine…they won’t.
I’m not saying all people are bad and out to take advantage of you (you do it too you know), what I am saying is that we are self-focused. I mean, I’m me, and I think about me so yeah, it’s kind of all about me!
We are all this way. It’s that sin nature strutting its stuff in our lives.
Here’s the thing: No one is going to respect a boundary they can’t see.
Creating a clarity of boundary lines is my job.
Keeping it firmly established despite those who might push back? Also…my job.
Yes, it is good to be helpful and kind, but that does not mean I have to be available 24/7 to every person in my life.
Yes, it is right to do my very best at work, but I am not doing anyone any good if I burn out.
Yes, my family needs me, but I am not helping them if I become a crutch that takes their dependence off Jesus and places it on myself.
We have to be willing to disappoint people from time to time.
We have to learn to be okay with others struggling under their own load.
And if they fill their wagons with the wrong load, that is not your fault.
Back to that wagon, if we allow anyone except God to fill our little red wagons, we might make it up that stinking hill, but it will be a heavy burden. It will be a relentlessly difficult and joy-less journey. Don’t give up God’s best for your life.
Carry your own wagon, and let everyone else carry theirs. Just as God gives you strength for the journey, so will He give those around you the particular strength they need for their journey. Don’t rob them of a closer walk with Jesus.
Let me say it gently, my friends.
There is a time we are called to stand in the gap for others. We are to stand in the gap with prayers and love and obedience to God. But there is a big difference between standing in the gap and standing between another person and God’s purpose, perhaps even discipline that leads to repentance. One is done out of obedience to God and love for people, but the other tries to take a place meant only for the Creator and Savior.
When we don’t clearly lay out and stand by our boundaries, say no when it is not our best yes…then we are standing between other people and their walk with God.
Their spiritual growth and renewal is not yours to give or your burden to bear.
Lay it down.
For them, for you.
My people pleasing friends, hear me when I say this:
Their expectations are not your responsibility.
Did you listen?
I’m gonna say it again: Their expectations are not your responsibility.
I know, saying it is one thing but putting it into practice is quite another. It’s hard.
I GET IT 100%. If you know me, you know this is an area of continual struggle. So we are in this together.
So maybe let’s talk about the practical aspects of being a recovering people pleaser who is allowing the gracious gifts of mercy and compassion to be misused, abused, and otherwise unhealthily wielded.
Part of being a people pleaser is feeling like you literally CANNOT rest. At least not in peace. Folks like to say “Rest in Peace” when someone passes from this life. I think I can more fully recognize the beauty in that statement. But here’s the thing: I want to learn to rest in peace in the here and now.
According to Scripture, we don’t have to wait for Heaven for rest.
Let’s go back to our verses from earlier:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light”.
Matthew 11:28-30
Look at some key words with me.
Come…we willingly bring our burdens to Jesus.
Rest…he alone gives rest.
And look at this next part: “Take My yoke…” God isn’t saying rest means the absence of work! Don’t miss this. Work is a wonderful part of our calling, but the easy and light work is when we carry His yoke, not our own. He has given us good gifts to bless others, magnify Him, and all while giving us rest for our souls. Rest is embedded into His work. If the work we are doing is a burden, then we are either not doing it in His strength or we are doing the wrong work.
Rest is a holy gift from a good Father. And might I add, God didn’t just suggest rest, in fact, He commanded it.
So ease off on the guilt.
When we rest, we are not being selfish. We are being obedient.
Rest and renewal are built into us just as surely as the seasons change in their time. Just like the earth, we are built for seasons of rest. The newness of spring gives way to the growth of summer and then to autumn’s harvest, but watch this, all of these times of growth and work are followed by a season of rest.
The earth rests.
Don’t be ashamed to rest. It is a gift of God. And for the sake of our sanity, our joy, and our witness, we must get this right.
You may have patiently listened to my long-winded people pleasing admission and think to yourself, “Well, thank goodness that’s not me. I know how to say no.”
Well, good for you.
But ummm…might you know someone who is struggling to say no? Could you be a part of their struggle? Are you part of the reason someone can’t seem to get that boundary built before tearing it down with their own hands to please you and meet your needs?
Okay, enough said.
I’m just saying, we can all do better.
I prefer to build bridges and not boundaries.
I’d honestly rather work than rest, it makes me feel valuable and needed.
But girls, I want to walk in full obedience with my Lord. And to do that, I need to clear out my wagon and wait for Him to fill it up.
And I need, oh how desperately I need, to rest.
Let’s make a pact. We can do this together. Find a Jesus loving sister and ask her to hold you accountable.
Pick up your chalk and get to drawing that boundary.
I see you! Put that eraser down. We are strong, we are capable, we are tired. But we are going to do better.
We are going to learn to rest. God said so, and I say, “Yes, Lord.”
P.S. Oh, and if you see me at Target trying to hide in the frozen food section pretending to be productively gathering groceries because I’m embarrassed to be wandering the aisles with no goal in mind…please just smile and be on your way. We’re all a work in progress. This girl is learning to rest and let go of perfection filled expectations.
Do What You Know To Do
Do what you know to do
(Thank you to Jeremy Law for sharing the wise words of his dad, Mr. Jim Law. It really has stuck with me through this time of uncertainty.)
When You Don’t Know What To Do Robin McWhirter
“When you don’t know what to do…do what you KNOW to do.” This quote was shared by a friend on facebook who was quoting his very wise dad, and these words have been flitting through my heart and mind this week as I lament my inability to help others during this time of virus outbreak throughout our world. The world? Yes, I cannot quite get over the fact that we are ALL facing a common enemy. A relentless, cruel opponent who will seemingly adapt to our every attempt to destroy it. Scientists, doctors, nurses, researchers, plus countless others are working around the clock, quite literally, to combat this virus, Covid-19. To see all of humanity working together towards a common goal is inspiring. But it is also frustrating. I too want to be a part of the solution. I too want to be on the front lines. I too want to play a part in beating this enemy.
I know, I know…save lives, stay at home. I’m not saying this isn’t true. What I am saying is that I want more. I’ve searched deep within myself (I mean what else do I have to do?) to find the reason for this desire. Am I simply an attention seeker? Do I want selfies popping up all over social media showing my “sacrifice”? Do I want others to applaud my fearlessness, my dedication, my faith?
The answer? Sure I do. We all do. Yes, I said that. We all do. We may not always admit it, but we want to be appreciated. We want to be praised. It is a part of human nature, my friends. And it is true of me.
But still. There is more. I really, truly, sincerely, and almost desperately want to help. It is how I’m wired. It is my spiritual gift. It is why I was created. Maybe that’s true for you too.
Yet, here we are almost helpless to help. The quarantine rules, the virus fears, the common sense guidance of churches and organizations have good reason to limit exposure to the few and not open wide the door to every one time do-gooder who wants to mark off “serving with fear and doing it anyway” from the list. But my heart hurts. My church is serving the medical community by offering free childcare while these precious servants go straight onto the battlefield. The daycares are closed; the parents who used to keep their grandchildren are in the danger-zone age range and though willing, truly not able to hold their grand babies. So where do the doctors, the nurses, the paramedics go? They go to First Baptist Woodstock and leave their most prized possessions in the care of loving Believers. Believers who are able and willing to put themselves in the line of fire in order to serve. I want that too. But the truth is this: the church cannot in good conscience or by law allow every member to serve in this capacity. It would not be feasible or possible to keep the virus contained were one of these people to be exposed. It would be a wildfire. A wildfire caused by those who were only trying to help. I get it. I do. But I want to be there.
Local food banks are distributing food. I called. I emailed. I text messaged. Everywhere is the same. The rules we are playing by are new. They are strict. They are wise. But in the end, I’m in the same situation. I want to be there. I can’t.
Then there are more personal battles. My dear friend, Erin, is going to undergo brain surgery tomorrow morning. In the midst of all this crazy, this wife and mother and daughter of elderly parents has no choice but to enter the hospital all alone for a terrifying procedure which she may or may not survive. Did you get that? Alone. When the fear of the unknown presses in, she will not have the comforting hand of her husband. She will not wake to the smiles of her
children. Alone. What can I NOT do? I can’t care for her children. I can’t clean her home for her. I can’t prepare her meals and go visit her in the hospital. I can’t be there, but I want to.
My parents are in their 80s. My dad has COPD. My parents have multiple health concerns which make them extreme risks to this deadly virus. I try to limit my exposure so that I can help care for them. But what are they doing? Going to the hairdresser. Going to Bojangles. Going to the bank. Why, you might ask would they do that? The answer is…I have no idea! We, the family, are committed to helping them. They know this! I cannot control my parents. Unless I take my Dad’s keys… maybe hide the truck…Well, you get my point. Stubborn. That’s what they are. Sweet, kind, loving, they are all that too but a double dose of stubborn. I can’t protect them from this virus. I can’t protect them from themselves. But I want to.
My children. Oh, they’re healthy and doing just fine at home. In fact, in ways they are thriving. Still, as I look at the colorful reminders on the kitchen calendar and get phone reminders of all the canceled events, I am sad. The places we didn’t go, the events that didn’t happen, the people we didn’t get to see…it’s not a tragedy, but it’s something. I watched the disappointment fill my son’s eyes as his long anticipated trip to Paris had to be canceled. Postponed maybe, but it could be a long wait. My youngest son, a college freshman, had to unceremoniously leave his dorm, no fanfare, no goodbyes. I think that’s the hardest part. No goodbyes. Things ended without a proper end. This is not how it was supposed to be. There should have been late night study sessions and laughter. Stressing out together and then celebrating when the crazy hard physics test was over. But no. Life took a turn we didn’t anticipate.
My daughter. She watched as one right after another events were canceled; prom, mission trip, long awaited concerts, camp, spring break. What about the memories that were to be made? What about that?
My oldest doesn’t live at home. He’s not far away, yet during this virus…if you are not in the same home, you might as well be a world away. I missed seeing him on his birthday. That was a first. Most firsts are exciting things – first kiss, first dance, first date, first flight. But not this. This was not a first I ever wanted to experience. But I did.
Then there is just me, just my stuff. I miss my Sunday school students. I miss teaching my handwriting students at our homeschool coop. I miss my friends. I do. I miss hugs. I miss shaking hands or high-fiving the friendly greeters in my church. I miss smiles. Even when I go out for the rare grocery run, you can’t see smiles behind the protective masks. I miss human contact. I do have my family, and I am blessed to be quarantined with people. But what of those who are alone? My heart hurts.
So that leads me back to the beginning of my thoughts. More than ever before, in these last few weeks, I can say, “I don’t know what to do.” But I want to know. I want to take the words of Mr. Jim Law to heart. “When you don’t know what to do, do what you KNOW to do.”
While it is true that I cannot volunteer in person to help the medical community, I can volunteer to send snacks. And I did.
I can’t go in person to the food banks to hand out food. What I can do is donate financially to help them supply the community with much needed supplies. I can text and call to make sure they know they are appreciated. And I did.
My friend undergoing surgery will be alone. I cannot be there. But I can send a card, make a call, order food for the family, and pray. Above all, pray. And I will.
While I could hide the keys to the truck, I probably shouldn’t…no promises if my parents continue in their willful ways…I can do what I’m doing. I can patiently answer the phone many, many times a day just so they can hear my voice and know they are not alone. I can help with the groceries even though they will probably go get some forgotten item anyway. I can don gloves and mask and wash my mama’s hair because her hair dresser is unable to continue
operating and my sweet mama cannot lift her hands above her head to do the job herself. I can and I will.
I cannot force this virus away so that my children do not miss, what to me…and to them…are once in a lifetime opportunities to make memories. However, I can enjoy every, single day in this new world. A new world that feels very much like an old world. Does anyone else feel like you have gone back in time? If my oldest were here at home, it would definitely feel like time travel back to a simpler time; a time when my people have nowhere else to go but home and no one else to be with except each other. It’s not all bad. Truly it is not. In fact, it is some kind of wonderful. Distractions are limited. Time is endless. We laugh and play and argue (let’s just be honest here). But we do it all together. And isn’t that what memories are all about?
And as for me, well I have found new ways of connecting to people. I’ve learned, with a lot of time and patience from my tech-savvy kids, to make youtube videos for my students. I’ve learned to attend zoom meetings with my Sunday school class and my small group ladies. I’m writing more. I’m crocheting. I’m reading. I’m walking by the creek.I’m remembering why I loved learning new recipes and enjoy cooking once again. Because let’s face it…in this current environment, food has drastically climbed the list as the most enjoyable “plan” of the day! Most importantly, I am connecting in a more meaningful way to my God. Life can shift and change; viruses can rage and bring fear. But God…Oh how I’ve always loved those words. But God will use even this to grow me, to stretch me, to better me. He’ll do that for you to, if you let Him.
I long to be useful. I long to be needed. And you know what? The more I allow God to open my eyes, the more needs I see. How often to I search and stretch and stamp my foot impatiently to reach for goals that are not mine to meet? How many needs have I missed because I had my eyes on someone else’s prize? Let that not be true in my life.
My life is full. It is full of blessings, yes, but that is not the full I’m speaking of right now. It is full of people who are full of needs that I am uniquely situated to meet. That’s right. God has fitted ME to meet the needs of those in my circle. Maybe I need to widen that circle, but the point is that it is my circle and not yours that I am to serve. The harvest is plentiful, but the workers are few. May my focus be God-centered. There are needs a plenty, and I have what it takes to meet the needs of those He has graciously put in my life. I don’t need to wait for the church or the government to meet the needs I myself can meet. So while I may not know what to do all the time; I can do what I know to do. May it be said of me, “She did.”
Ambassadors for Christ
Good morning! On this beautiful fall morning, I was reading God’s Word and came across these verses from 2 Corinthians. Could I share with you what I found?
This passage was written by the Apostle Paul to the church in Corinth and to all who follow Jesus today. It’s a reminder of why Jesus came, who we are as His people, and what our mission is as followers of Christ.
Scripture Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:15 and 17-21
15 And he died for all so that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for the one who died for them and was raised.
17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come! 18 Everything is from God, who has reconciled us to Himself through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation. 19 That is, in Christ, God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed the message of reconciliation to us.
20 Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making His appeal through us. We plead on Christ’s behalf, “Be reconciled to God.”
Why Did Jesus Come?
Verse 15 tells us: “He died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for the One who died for them and was raised.”
Jesus came so that we would stop living for ourselves and start living for Him.
As believers, our lives are no longer about my way — they’re about His will.
It’s His purpose over my preference, His direction over my desire.
Verse 17 says, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”
In Jesus, we are brand new. Not slightly improved. Not polished-up versions of our old selves. New.
The old is gone — the guilt, the shame, the mistakes, all of it.
Then verse 19 says something miraculous: “In Christ, God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them.”
That means through Jesus, God was fixing what sin had broken.
“Reconciliation” sounds like a big word, but it simply means restoring a broken relationship.
Because of sin, we were far from God. But Jesus closed the gap.
When He said, “It is finished,” on the cross, He meant paid in full.
Not partially paid, not good enough for most people but not for you.
He didn’t say, “I can cover some sins, but not those.”
No — He said, “It is finished.” Fully. Completely.
Christ died for all.
As John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.”
Thank God for His mercy!
Who Are We as the People of God?
Through Jesus, our broken relationship with God has been restored. That means, if you belong to Christ, this is who you are:
A new creation.
Your sin? Covered.
Your debt? Gone.
Your connection with God? Restored.
That’s who we are — and that’s who every believer around you is too.
We need to remember that. Every brother and sister in Christ is a new creation. We’re called to love one another well, and this is a big deal because the world recognizes Jesus by how His people love one another.
Jesus said in John 13:35, “By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.”
And in John 17:21, He prayed, “May they all be one, as You, Father, are in Me and I am in You, that the world may believe You sent Me.”
Our unity, our love for one another, points people straight to Christ; OR our dis-unity points them away. Listen, how we treat one another matters.
What Is our Mission?
Once we’ve been reconciled to God, Paul says something incredible: God gives us the ministry of reconciliation.
He calls us to be ambassadors for Christ.
An ambassador is someone who represents their home country while living in another one.
That’s us. As believers with the Holy Spirit in our hearts…
Earth isn’t our home — heaven is.
We’re here as representatives of Jesus.
Wherever life takes you — whatever school, job, or place you end up — your purpose doesn’t change. You are an ambassador of Christ.
We represent Him in what we say, what we post, how we live, how we treat others, and how we love.
Paul writes, “We are ambassadors for Christ, God making His appeal through us.”
That means God uses your life, your words, your attitude — to draw others to Himself.
We carry the message of reconciliation. We carry the hope of Jesus to a broken world.
We have the answer. We have the cure!
We are the ambassadors for a Savior who gave His life so that all people could be reconciled to Him.
So honest question: Does the way we live, talk, act…reflect Christ well? Are we good ambassadors?
Truth and Grace — Our Message
Paul’s message doesn’t end with a job title — it comes with a calling:
Be people of truth and grace.
The truth is that sin separates us from God.
The grace is that Jesus made a way for us to be restored.
Truth without grace speaks this lie, “You’re too far gone, the Cross of Christ can’t reach you.”
Grace without truth speaks an equally dangerous lie, “Sin isn’t that big a deal, and the Cross of Christ wasn’t necessary.”
Know and speak the fullness of the Truth: truth with grace, hand in hand.
Together, they tell the full story: Sin is real, but so is redemption.
There is no sin too great for Jesus to forgive. No heart too broken for Him to heal. We’re not called to be judgmental or fake, but to be real–showing both truth and grace.
And when we live that way, the world gets to see a glimpse of Christ through us.
Our Challenge
So here it is: if you’re a believer
We’ve been made new.
We’ve been reconciled.
We’ve been sent out as ambassadors.
The question is — are we representing Him well?
Are we letting God make His appeal through us?
If today, you realize you’ve been living for yourself instead of for Him — He says, “Come to Me.”
If you’ve felt too far gone — He says, “Come to Me.”
If you want to live more boldly as an ambassador — He says, “Come to Me.”
He’s ready to restore, forgive, and use you.
This passage was written by the Apostle Paul to the church in Corinth and to all who follow Jesus today. It’s a reminder of why Jesus came, who we are as His people, and what our mission is as followers of Christ.
Scripture Reading: 2 Corinthians 5:15 and 17-21
15 And he died for all so that those who live should no longer live for themselves, but for the one who died for them and was raised.
17 Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has passed away, and see, the new has come! 18 Everything is from God, who has reconciled us to Himself through Christ and has given us the ministry of reconciliation. 19 That is, in Christ, God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed the message of reconciliation to us.
20 Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making His appeal through us. We plead on Christ’s behalf, “Be reconciled to God.”
Why Did Jesus Come?
Verse 15 tells us: “He died for all, that those who live might no longer live for themselves but for the One who died for them and was raised.”
Jesus came so that we would stop living for ourselves and start living for Him.
As believers, our lives are no longer about my way — they’re about His will.
It’s His purpose over my preference, His direction over my desire.
Verse 17 says, “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.”
In Jesus, we are brand new. Not slightly improved. Not polished-up versions of our old selves. New.
The old is gone — the guilt, the shame, the mistakes, all of it.
Then verse 19 says something miraculous: “In Christ, God was reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them.”
That means through Jesus, God was fixing what sin had broken.
“Reconciliation” sounds like a big word, but it simply means restoring a broken relationship.
Because of sin, we were far from God. But Jesus closed the gap.
When He said, “It is finished,” on the cross, He meant paid in full.
Not partially paid, not good enough for most people but not for you.
He didn’t say, “I can cover some sins, but not those.”
No — He said, “It is finished.” Fully. Completely.
Christ died for all.
As John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world that He gave His one and only Son, that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have eternal life.”
Thank God for His mercy!
Who Are We as the People of God?
Through Jesus, our broken relationship with God has been restored. That means, if you belong to Christ, this is who you are:
A new creation.
Your sin? Covered.
Your debt? Gone.
Your connection with God? Restored.
That’s who we are — and that’s who every believer around you is too.
We need to remember that. Every brother and sister in Christ is a new creation. We’re called to love one another well, and this is a big deal because the world recognizes Jesus by how His people love one another.
Jesus said in John 13:35, “By this everyone will know that you are My disciples, if you love one another.”
And in John 17:21, He prayed, “May they all be one, as You, Father, are in Me and I am in You, that the world may believe You sent Me.”
Our unity, our love for one another, points people straight to Christ; OR our dis-unity points them away. Listen, how we treat one another matters.
What Is our Mission?
Once we’ve been reconciled to God, Paul says something incredible: God gives us the ministry of reconciliation.
He calls us to be ambassadors for Christ.
An ambassador is someone who represents their home country while living in another one.
That’s us. As believers with the Holy Spirit in our hearts…
Earth isn’t our home — heaven is.
We’re here as representatives of Jesus.
Wherever life takes you — whatever school, job, or place you end up — your purpose doesn’t change. You are an ambassador of Christ.
We represent Him in what we say, what we post, how we live, how we treat others, and how we love.
Paul writes, “We are ambassadors for Christ, God making His appeal through us.”
That means God uses your life, your words, your attitude — to draw others to Himself.
We carry the message of reconciliation. We carry the hope of Jesus to a broken world.
We have the answer. We have the cure!
We are the ambassadors for a Savior who gave His life so that all people could be reconciled to Him.
So honest question: Does the way we live, talk, act…reflect Christ well? Are we good ambassadors?
Truth and Grace — Our Message
Paul’s message doesn’t end with a job title — it comes with a calling:
Be people of truth and grace.
The truth is that sin separates us from God.
The grace is that Jesus made a way for us to be restored.
Truth without grace speaks this lie, “You’re too far gone, the Cross of Christ can’t reach you.”
Grace without truth speaks an equally dangerous lie, “Sin isn’t that big a deal, and the Cross of Christ wasn’t necessary.”
Know and speak the fullness of the Truth: truth with grace, hand in hand.
Together, they tell the full story: Sin is real, but so is redemption.
There is no sin too great for Jesus to forgive. No heart too broken for Him to heal. We’re not called to be judgmental or fake, but to be real–showing both truth and grace.
And when we live that way, the world gets to see a glimpse of Christ through us.
Our Challenge
So here it is: if you’re a believer
We’ve been made new.
We’ve been reconciled.
We’ve been sent out as ambassadors.
The question is — are we representing Him well?
Are we letting God make His appeal through us?
If today, you realize you’ve been living for yourself instead of for Him — He says, “Come to Me.”
If you’ve felt too far gone — He says, “Come to Me.”
If you want to live more boldly as an ambassador — He says, “Come to Me.”
He’s ready to restore, forgive, and use you.
A Mother’s Journey
June 14th…Flag day…the birthday of the United States Army…the day my son became a soldier.
Proud…afraid…full…empty…letting go…holding on…the journey of a mother standing awkwardly at the crossroads.
The questions
What if he is lonely…what if he is hurt…what if I miss him…what if I cry?
But then
What if this is Your purpose…what if this is Your plan…what if the journey leads us to You…what if this is the beginning of something wonderfully new?
To hold on has been easy…
To let go, immeasurably hard…
I stand at the crossroads and watch as our paths diverge…this child of my heart and me.
The old…the new…an ending…a beginning…the joy…the pain…the journey of a mother.
Robin Rebecca McWhirter
Gifts and Burdens
Gifts and Burdens
The words gift and burden don’t belong in the same sentence, at least they shouldn’t. But sometimes they do and here’s why: we can allow our gifts to use us instead of us using our gifts.
I’ll give you an example of what I mean. I didn’t need a spiritual gifts test to tell me I have the gift of mercy. I feel it down deep in my soul with every tear I cry for those I love, for those I have never even met but read about, heard about, think about. Ask anyone who knows me, I cry easily. But for me, it’s not just about tears. It’s about what I ‘do’ with those feelings. Action follows feeling. And that’s good. Most of the time.
I don’t just see shelter dogs in need of rescue. I give money (ask my husband about this one). I write books and donate them to adoption events. I share and ‘bump’ on facebook. And I cry for those I can’t save.
And I can’t really say there’s a negative to my love of rescue animals, well maybe I go overboard with donations (don’t tell Tim). But where my mercy comes into contact with people, that’s where I can get off track, veer out of my lane if you will.
What happens is this: I see people in pain, and I want to fix it. I see people in need, and I want to fix it. I’m a fixer. And to be fair, that’s what mercy does. But…I said I veer out of my lane because sometimes, sometimes it is not my place to fix your pain. It is not my call to fill your need.
If I jump in when God says stand still, I can cause major problems. For you. For me. I can create a dependency on me, that while it may feed my ego, causes you to never learn to help yourself or worse never to learn to lean on God.
There are times when my mercy should lead me to give a hug, make a call, say a prayer, not move your mountain. Other times I do need to be shoulder to shoulder, my shovel next to yours until we move that sucker or climb to the other side. How to know? Well, that’s a bigger discussion. But I will say I’m learning to be intentional with my responses because I KNOW who I am and my tendency to intervene and attempt to save the world. It’s genuine but can be misguided.
Obviously, there are other gifts that should be positives but can easily become negatives. Maybe you’re a gifted teacher. What an awesome skill! However, that platform can be extremely powerful. We have to be cautious to not allow our personal opinions and biases to be consumed as fact by our listeners. Teachers hold a powerful tool in their hands. We should use it well.
Perhaps you have the gift of service. I would so much rather be doing something than standing awkwardly on the sidelines. Put me to work!
Still, I have a tendency to be like the little hero of Holland. Do you know the story? He found a hole in the dike and stuck his finger in there, holding back the destructive waters for the entire town! It’s a great tale, however, the boy needed help! If you are doing so much that if you stepped away, the entire office or church would fall apart because you, and you alone, are holding back the flood…there might be a problem. You’re going to get tired. I’m going to get tired.
We can’t do it all. I know. I want to as well. But we can’t. We need each other. We need our team, our community, our tribe. If you don’t have one, get one! Because eventually, you, me, we can’t hold the world together alone. The dike will break. Then everyone suffers.
We could go on and on with particular gifts and how positive becomes negative. But here’s the bottom line: Use your gift, don’t allow your gift to use you. Don’t abuse your gift. Don’t allow your gift to abuse you.
God has so graciously given His children beautiful gifts to use, to give back to Him and to others. Whatever your gift may be, the purpose is to glorify God and edify those around us. Gifts are to grow us, not consume us.
Robin
When the Quiet Comes
There was a time when the idea of quiet brought welcome relief, respite from the busyness of life as a young mother of equally busy children. My household was loud and full and wonderful. But now, this is a quiet of a different breed. This quiet is a bit sad and lonely and painful. This quiet hurts.
With complete honesty, I want to share with you the pain of transition into this world of quiet. Oh yes, I know, it is all a part of the natural progression of things. The kids grow up, the kids move away, my role as chief cook and head of transportation has faded into the background. No more homeschool field days or early morning toddler cuddles. My car no longer holds camping chairs and water bottles ready for soccer season or scouting events. No, this is the new normal. The quiet.
Obviously, there is a beauty to this new season. I get to sleep…uninterrupted by midnight nightmares and sudden bouts of fever and tummy aches. The house is clean and the laundry is less. I get to watch the amazing children we were blessed to have for a season become equally amazing adults. It’s true. But passing years have important lessons to teach if we are listening: feelings are not wrong, they are legitimate and not to be ignored, but to be acknowledged and then prayerfully dealt with and carefully sewn into the fabric of our life as wisdom earned. It has been said that “Our problems are too big and our feelings are too strong for us to enter God’s presence with pretense.” And that is so.
Today I acknowledge the sadness that is the quiet of my life.
I believe the problem lies in one thing: purpose. I have simply lost sight of mine. What am I to do? Who am I without my job as a mom? Is that older woman in the mirror still capable of the great things I imagined as a girl? To be completely honest, I don’t know the answers. But I want to. I desperately do. And so I search. I pray. I wait.
Perhaps, like me, you are also in a season of quiet. I would love to tell you I have a handbook for the successful crossing of this tumultuous sea. I don’t. But I can share a little about what has helped and a lot about what has not.
As I always prefer to get the negative out of the way, let’s start there. I mentioned earlier the first and greatest mistake I made, don’t ignore or stuff the truth of your feelings. Are you feeling anxious? Say it. Is depression threatening to press every ounce of joy out of your existence? Admit it. And when you do, find a circle of friends who will let you be real. Counseling is an infinitely valuable resource. And friends, I’ll tell you this: we all need a listening ear, so never belittle yourself or anyone else who chooses to be brave and admit a need.
The natural move, but in the wrong direction, is to attempt to re-plant yourself in the season of yesterday. I want to be needed, I want to be valued, and I felt that most distinctly as a mom of younger children. But mom, they aren’t the same little children. Don’t attempt to continue your role as caregiver and problem solver. Believe me when I say, you aren’t doing yourself and especially your children a favor. It is, in fact, a huge disservice to hang on too tightly. Let them go. It’s hard. But that’s the job.
Anyway, the reality is that I was never as “in control” as I thought anyway. God has always held the reins. Me grabbing them has never solved a single problem. Caused them? Probably.
One last “what not to do” that I tried and failed at miserably is to attempt to fill that silence with noise. My personality is not one of ‘wait and see, it will all work out’; nope, I’m more of a ‘knock on every door, break in through the window if you must’ sort of gal. I want to fill…my time, my life, the quiet. I don’t like empty spaces. I want to be full. It’s easy to watch friends’ lives and believe the lie that their days are always content, their kids always successful, their smiles always genuine. And when I believe it, I try to fill up using their fuel. But apparently I’m some weird hybrid girl. I don’t know what kind of gas I need, but it isn’t theirs. God’s plan for me is uniquely my own. And for that plan, I must…gulp…wait. If I rush this season of quiet, I will miss the beauty that comes from trusting God’s timing.
Sometimes, the silence isn’t meant to be filled. It’s meant to be understood.
I hesitate to even tell you what has helped simply because what has worked for me may not work for you. Again, the road you walk may intersect with mine at times, but your twists and turns are unique to your path. So with a smidge of trepidation, I will share what I have found helpful in this struggle with a quiet season of change.
In a way, I must learn to say goodbye. My kids don’t need me to hold their hands. They don’t need me to tuck them in. But they do need my wisdom, my experience, my love. No one outgrows the need for love. And that young girl I still expect to find in the mirror is gone. She isn’t coming back. And that’s okay. The woman I am is smart. She’s experienced, she’s beautiful. Oh, there are wrinkles and gray hair, but this is a beauty that comes from walking through the fire and coming out on the other side. She’s still standing. And she’s smiling because she knows she is capable, she is strong, she is enough. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss that young girl. I lament the loss of a metabolism that allows midnight snacks and sweet tea on demand. I surely do wish my eyesight was perfect again, my frizzy gray hair smoothed with youth…yeah, I miss her. Acknowledging the fact that I feel deep sadness and loss at this loss is central to healing, to moving forward.
Then there are the changes that life kind of makes for you. I’ve learned the difference between acquaintances and friends. Honestly, this one has been really difficult to accept. I’ve clung tightly to those I thought were friends only to realize they are simply acquaintances, circumstantial and often temporary friends. Oh, I don’t mean they’ve done anything wrong, I simply categorized them incorrectly. You see, when my kids were small, we had so many social commitments that were directly linked to the kids. Pizza after soccer, camping with the scouts, children’s programs at church. Those folks were lots of fun, but I guess we didn’t have much holding us together when the calendar cleared. The memories are good, but that’s where they stay. Memories. Some people come and go, but some stay. Those are few and far between, and they are to be appreciated. Still, don’t be afraid to open your heart and your home to whoever wanders through your life. Maybe they will go, but then again, maybe they stay. Surround yourself with people of all ages and cultures. Give your time to help the younger generation grow, link arms with the women who are walking down the same roads, and learn from the wisdom of the aged ones walking ahead. Houses, jobs, stuff…all that goes away; people are the only eternity we get to touch here on this earth.
Keep growing. This is a big one. Growing old is inevitable, but I can get there in style! As long as I am able, I will continue to learn new information, think new thoughts, meet new people, see new places, and try new hobbies. There is no standing still. Either you’re growing, or you’re receding. I want to challenge my mind, so I listen to science, political, and psychology podcasts. I am learning Spanish and all about nutrition. I tried And find people who challenge you to be your best self. But don’t expect anyone to fulfill your every need. That’s just not possible. What I mean is this: my husband is awesome, and we enjoy some of the same activities, but not everything. For example, he doesn’t like to hike, so I found a friend who does. We have great fun. He doesn’t really like to travel as much as I do, but that’s okay. I have other friends who like to take girl trips with me!
If your bucket list is filled with ‘want to’s you never got to’, don’t blame anyone else. You have a choice. Maybe you need to adjust your expectations, but I firmly believe creating and fulfilling goals is a must for a purposeful life. I tried rock climbing. It was terrifying but exhilarating, and I loved it! Parasailing on the other hand will be a one time joy ride. But I’m glad I shared that day with my daughter, even if I was scared the sharks were going to bite my toes when we dipped through the ocean waves.
Give it a go! It’s better to try and fail than to always wonder what could have been.
So there it is, acknowledge your feelings. Learn who this new version of you really is, and learn to love her. Surround yourself with people. Love them. Let them love you. Grow and change. Don’t be afraid. As long as you have breath, God has work for you to do. So in this season of quiet, let Him show you what that work is to be. Be still, see what is in front of you and do that. One step, one moment at a time, you will find the purpose and plan. Be patient (not my strong suit, I’ll tell you), but I know the wait will be worth it. God still has a good plan for me and for you, my sister. You matter. I matter. God isn’t done with us yet. There’s work to be done.
As the leaves begin to change to beautiful and vibrant shades of red, yellow, and orange, I reflect on the truth that my life is much like those leaves. I’m clinging to the tree and know the journey has brought the life changing brilliance of my autumn. It’s time to let go of summer. But I’ve always loved fall so I can appreciate the beauty of newness as I wait in the quiet for the sure renewal of God’s merciful hand. And maybe, just maybe,I will learn the art of gentle acceptance in these constantly changing days ahead. For one day, the autumn leaves must release their hold and allow the winter winds to brush them to the waiting earth to rest. And only then, in the renewing of Heaven’s eternal spring, will my purpose be fully known.
Friends
When it comes to friend types, there are definitely different categories. I think we all want to have good friends, and we all believe we are good friends. But it is also true that we take the responsibility of being a friend very casually, dismissing the depths to which a true friend ought to be willing to go. So what exactly is a friend?
According to the Bible, “A friend loves at all times, and a brother is born for a time of adversity (Proverbs 17:17).” The Bible also describes the actions of a friend as saying, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends (John 15:12-13).”
The Lord seems to be relaying a version of “friend” that is both sacrificial and potentially dangerous to oneself. Born for adversity and laying down your life are not casual friendships.
Yet, this is what God says a friend should be. It’s a pretty heavy commitment to make.
Now consider the common and accepted definition of friend. We talk about friends on social media but hardly mean the Biblical definition as our intention. No. We mean someone we scroll through their thoughts and photos and probably acknowledge their existence with a like for their post or maybe even take a microsecond to leave a reply. But let’s be honest, it hardly goes farther than this. It seems sending a card or taking a meal are ideals of the past, certainly not applicable to our busy lifestyles. Friendships are casual and easy, and we like it that way. Why not? It costs us nothing.
Then there are circumstantial friends. They are there in your life for a season and nothing more. Your kids play sports together or you attend the same Sunday school class or live in the same neighborhood. But let circumstances change and you will find out the true nature of the friendship. Oh, many times people make the appropriate effort to stay in touch, at least for a time. But as life moves on, new circumstances send new friends and the old goes out with yesterday’s sunset. We might smile at the memories but have neither the time nor the desire to maintain what was once a beautiful relationship. And most people consider this normal. But it is important to remember this: there are many people who are left alone and lonely from a circumstantial friendship that was misinterpreted to be more, to be real. I admit to being one of those. I hope I never become so callous as to think throwing away a friendship is the norm. Your circumstances changed. So what. The people didn’t. We can make time for others if we want to do so. Believe me, I understand a full life, but I’ll never understand feeling like I don’t need any more friends. For myself, I need all the friends I can get. If God has placed someone in your life, then you have time for them. Simple as that.
This next category is not a brand of friend anyone wants to have or to be but I fear the reality is all too familiar. I can’t say I know anyone who really wants to be known as a fair weathered friend. The very definition gives a glimpse into the nature of this ‘friendship’. Oxford Languages declares a fair weather friend to be “a person who stops being a friend in times of difficulty.” Wow. That cuts deeply. If you remember from the Biblical definition, this one is kind of opposite. God says a friend was made for adversity, and a fair weather friend runs when there is adversity. I suppose it isn’t kind of the opposite, it is absolutely opposite. This one hurts. Unfortunately, we don’t typically know this is the type of friendship we have until the hard times come. Sadly, that is the worst time to figure it out because this is when we need our friends the most. And we turn around and boom, gone. I remember going through a particularly difficult stretch and being embarrassed to open up to very many people. So when I did open up, it was a really big deal for me. I’ll never forget those I thought were close friends who smiled uncomfortably, patted me on the head telling me it would all be okay, and ran for the hills. It hurt then, and it still hurts now. Friendship means being willing to leave your comfort zone to walk the extra mile with your friend. Friendship means allowing the messy feelings, acknowledging the pain of another with no regard to your own, and climbing into the depths of depression just to hold a hand. It is hard, and a fair weather friend is simply not up to the challenge, by decision not ability. As Pooh Bear says, “To have a friend, be a friend.”
I think the main difference we are looking at here is answering this question, is it real? A real friend doesn’t run from trouble, they stand by your side. Sometimes they even hold you up. And they do so with a deliberateness that is undeniably genuine. A real friend doesn’t abandon you when your circumstances change. A move of thousands of miles won’t stop the determination of real friends to maintain a friendship. It will be different, sure, but real all the same. The reason these things are so is because real friendship is based on the eternal. Love.
Friendships bring joy and fulfillment, laughter and comfort. Friendship is what life is all about. At the end of life, I am absolutely certain my regrets will not be about money earned or tasks left undone. If I have regrets, I believe they will be about people, about what I didn’t do, about time I didn’t take, words I didn’t say. I am beyond thankful for my real friends. They are a blessing beyond any riches or applause. Sometimes we only find the genuine when held up against the artificial. Half a century in my life has passed, and I’m still figuring it all out. But as for me, I hope I will always be a listening ear to those in pain. I hope I will always be willing to make time for those who need me. I pray I will make many real friends until the Lord calls me home and be a friend just the same.
I believe God says it best, so I will let His Word finish my thoughts. “If either of them falls down, one can help the other up. But pity anyone who falls and has no one to help them up ( Ecclesiastes 4:10).”