Don’t Get Caught in the Rip Current of Discouragement

Don’t Get Caught in the Rip Current of Discouragement

by | Mar 30, 2015 | Encouragement

Hi Dear Readers,

I want to introduce you to my friend Susan Yates. She lives in the Northern Virginia area where I grew up and her husband pastors The Falls Church. She is a wife, mother, grandmother, author, speaker and a dear believer. She’s full of wisdom, so you’ll want to read on.

You can find Susan at susanalexanderyates.com and on Twitter at @susanayates and Facebook 

Susan was so gracious to write this encouraging post on overcoming discouragement. I know you’ll be encouraged:

 

Do you ever feel rocked by bad news?  More-than-disappointed because things didn’t turn out the way you wanted? Has someone you relied on let you down? Did a relationship fail to develop as you had hoped, or the job you needed not come through? Have your small regrets grown into a big pile of discouragement? Has it been a miserable week, a long season of trials, or even just a “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day?”

If so, you are not alone. Disappointment is very real and all too common for each one of us. It can cause us to sink into the pit of discouragement and lose sight of the light.  And as believers it’s easy to pile on the guilt that so often accompanies this.   I shouldn’t feel this way. I should handle this better. I should trust Jesus more.  Self-condemnation, though pervasive, is about as useful as piling big rocks on yourself when you’re already at the bottom of the pit.

When I was a little girl we often took vacations at the beach. I have a vivid memory of my Dad standing on the shore with his perfect newhairline hairstyle looking while we kids swam in the ocean. With hands on his hips, his baldhead gleaming in the sun and waves splashing his feet, he stood resolute as our lifeguard. We were his treasures and he was not about to let us get dragged out to sea by a rip current. At any moment he stood ready to dive in and yank us out of the deep water. He did not rescue us every time a wave knocked us flat – he knew we needed to right ourselves when that happened, but he was ever vigilant against unseen dangers.

In thinking about my grown-up disappointments I imagine the ocean. Choppy waves on the surface are normal. Winds come and go impacting the sea in a myriad of ways. You can be floating calmly one moment, then hit head-on by a huge wave the next minute. It’s both fun and scary. It’s a normal part of the life of the sea.

Disappointment is a normal part of our lives. Feeling deeply sad is not wrong. Jesus himself was grieved and anguished. He wept when Lazarus died even though he knew he would raise him. He suffered deep agony in the garden. Those he loved failed him. He understands our disappointments. He feels them with us. (Hebrews 2:14-16). We must not condemn ourselves for what is a God given emotion. (Rom 8:1).

These normal disappointments are like choppy waves on the ocean. They come and go. They hurt, but not for long. However if we let ourselves wallow too long in disappointment it becomes similar to succumbing to a dangerous rip current that can pull us further from shore into more treacherous water. You can’t see this current. You don’t know it’s coming until you realize it has taken you too far out. It can be subtle or it can come on suddenly and a child is not likely to recognize its danger. That’s why my Dad stood ready and alert. If we drifted too far, he waved us back and if he perceived we were in real danger he swam to grab us.

Recently I got caught in a rip current.

A project I had worked on for years was turned down. I was crushed. I felt personally rejected because my work had been rejected, and then on top of that I felt guilty for feeling so upset about it. This was not a matter of life and death. It was ‘just’ a rejection, but it hurt- a lot. Guilt and disappointment grew into a heavy blanket that weighed on me. I couldn’t move past it, and I wallowed in it for days. However, God saw my plight and He began to reveal to me that I was being “ripped” out into a dangerous place of deep discouragement. I had a choice to make. I could continue to chew over my disappointment and dwell on my discouragement or I could put my eyes back on Jesus.

Hebrews 12:2 came to mind. “Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith.”

My feelings didn’t change immediately. I realized that I had exhausted myself trying to swim against the tide of self-pity. I needed Jesus to rescue me. So I made a simple choice to think about who He is instead of my own misery. I asked Him to rescue me. What did this look like? It meant repeating to myself throughout the day the character traits of God. He understands me; He loves me; He has a plan; He has been faithful in the past; He alone has the whole picture, etc. I have had to make this choice again and again, every day, and many times throughout the day.

As I’ve reflected on this experience, several things have helped me:

*Recognize that disappointment is a normal part of living in this world. All of us will experience it. (Even that person who looks like “she has it all together.” It’s a myth. She doesn’t.)

*Be alert to the dangers of moving from the normal waves of disappointment into the pull of a rip current- a dangerous trajectory which can take us far away from the safety of our Father. One of Satan’s greatest tools is that of discouragement. He uses it because it is so subtle. 

*Resist becoming critical of a person who doesn’t understand how you feel, or respond in the way you want them to. Our enemy loves to nurture a critical spirit within our heart. God knows how you feel. (I almost threw a shoe at my husband because he said, ‘You’ll just have to trust Jesus.’ He wanted to comfort me but he just didn’t know how.) 

*Restore your perspective. Go to a museum. Listen to praise music. Meet with someone and ask how God is working in his or her life. Hang out with folks who make you laugh. Do something for someone else.

*Ask God to reveal to you something new. One of the things God revealed to me was that I needed to ask myself, “Have I let my project become an idol?” Ouch. I could see my subtle drift in this direction. 

*Spend time in the scriptures. God’s word is full of promises, full of power and never fails to speak to us if we let it. The Psalms are a great place to be as David is so honest.  

*Make a list of the ways you have experienced God’s faithfulness in the past. This will build up your hope for the future.

*Remember that time heals. You may not feel better right away. Your circumstances might not change but you will change as you focus on God and allow Him to use this time in your life for your good and His glory. 

*If you are experiencing discouragement that is deeper and longer lasting than the normal everyday stuff you would be wise to reach out for the support of others or a good counselor. Remember no pit is so deep that God is not deeper still. 

The mental picture of my Dad on the beach intently watching over me ready to run to my rescue is a visible reminder of how much more my heavenly Father is watching over me and will come to my rescue.

“He reached down from on high and took hold of me; he drew me out of deep waters He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes who were too strong for me…He brought me out into a spacious place. He rescued me because He delighted in me” (Psalm 18:16-19)

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Merry Christmas and The Minter Kitchen

by | Dec 19, 2013 | Encouragement, Holidays

Merry Christmas Everyone. If you’re like me you’re scrambling to get everything pulled together in the next week or so. I was reminded this morning of that beautiful verse, Colossians 1:17, which says that in Christ all things hold together. Deep breath. And when I take long enough to consider this, I find it to be not only an inexhaustible concept but also a comforting truth.

I am working busily on finishing up a book and then will be diving into writing my next bible study for LifeWay. More news on those shortly, but in the meantime… how about a recipe? The wonderful people at LifeWay have put together something they’re calling The Minter Kitchen. Now, if you actually saw my kitchen you might not be as excited about this monthly posting – all I can promise you is that these are some of my go-to recipes that I often cook and enjoy. And occasionally even serve to others. So check it out, along with some of the other fun things they have going on on the LifeWay Women’s Blog.

Lastly, please share any recipes you’re currently enjoying in the comments section – I’d love to see them and try them. Also, please be sure to check back here for new dates on the calendar – would love to see you on the road. We’ll be sure to keep you posted on the new book and new bible study.

Merry Christmas,

Kelly

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Quiet and Small, It’s Okay

by | Apr 3, 2013 | Encouragement, Social Media

Sometimes quiet and small is okay. It may not make for clever Tweets or garner a slew of comments on Facebook, but it’s nothing to fear; Sometimes private is good.

Not every picture has to go through the filters of Instagram and rocket into the public square, it can be for just you; And sometimes hidden is best. Not every blog or bestseller has to be about doing something huge, radical, revolutionary, monumental. By the way, this is not a criticism of the well-known voices we listen to or a critique of their remarkable work. In fact, I am friends with some of these influencers who would be guilty of burying their talents if they did things any other way–they are using their notable gifts truly for the glory of God and they are having a profound reach. So set all of them aside because this is not about them; It’s not a this-way versus that-way. I simply want to ponder another side of what faithfulness looks like.

Tonight two people came to my house to pray. Usually we have six or seven, but this evening there were only three. I made Trader Joe’s French press decaf and served Trader Joe’s sea salt brownies, because I love TJ’s that much. It was small, quiet and I think powerful.

For 46 days my sister and I gave up the same thing for Lent and went through a devotional by Henri Nouwen. The two of us did it together and we read in silence most every morning. Pretty ordinary. Pretty doggone quiet. Still I pray God has changed us through this very small fast.

Over a year ago a friend of mine picked up a struggling woman on the side of the road, got to know her family, and has shared in both their ordinary and special occasions. She’s driven them to church and appointments, bought the kids’ school ornaments for fundraisers and simply been a friend. She doesn’t tell this story from a stage because she doesn’t speak on platforms but, kinda quietly, she’s building the Kingdom.

I had two Jr. High youth leaders who used to take my friends and me to Denny’s after youth group–I consider teen ministry at Denny’s modern-day suffering for Christ–bought us burgers and listened to our urgent and dire struggles that we believed, if not solved, might end the world. They discipled me with patience and love and let several of us spend the night on many occasions even though we nearly burned their house down because of poor microwave popcorn skills. They didn’t get the chance to Instagram the smoke billowing from the kitchen for the reward of a hundred “hearts”, because Instagram didn’t exist. They never blogged about their many years as youth group leaders probably because there were no such thing as blogs. Their service was mostly hidden, but they helped direct the course of my life.

I know a woman who cooks dinner every week for the young single girls in a nearby church. She leads them in Bible Study and meets with them individually for coffee. I once heard her pray with all sincerity, “Lord, there’s not a yacht on any sea I’d want to travel more than I want to be with these girls each week.” (And that, of course, made me think of all the European coastal destinations I’d like to see and how sometimes I want this more than I desire to minister.) The mark she’s making on these women’s lives is profound and hardly anyone knows she’s been doing this every week for two years. She doesn’t have a Facebook profile.

As I’ve been pondering over the past few months, the question is certainly not whether or not social media, publishing, speaking on large platforms, Tweeting, blogging, gaining followers is wrong. This would be to miss the thinking entirely.

The question is at what expense are we being drawn to bigger, louder, larger, best-selling, more famous? Are we losing anything in the pursuit? Are we measuring our faithfulness to Christ by “likes” or by lives?

I can only answer these questions for myself and the answers are not always flattering. Paul speaks to Timothy about the value of leading a quiet and peaceable life which is good and acceptable in the sight of our Savior (I Tim 2:2-3). I am yearning more than ever before for a quality of life pleasing to Him, whether known or obscure. This morning I read in I Cor 3:12-13 that “If any man builds on this foundation [Jesus Christ]…his work will be shown for what it is, because the Day will bring it to light.” Social Media and pub deals and music contracts can be of great value but they will not be what brings the value of our work to light. This will only be measured in Jesus.

So I guess I want to encourage so many of you who are going about the daily business of seeking Jesus and loving others, some in front of enormous crowds, others in front of a few. Remember the quality of your labor is not measured in numbers or followers or sales, valid as this may be. As I read Henri Nouwen’s Lenten devotional I was reminded of how he spent the last years of his life ministering in a small community to those with special needs. At times in his writing you can sense his angst, as if he feels he’s not adequately using all his knowledge or skills, or that he’s almost disappearing, and yet his writings have transcended his life. The way he served in obscurity is now changing people in the light. Amazing how God can do this.

For “God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.” (Heb 6:10) May we humble ourselves together? And in a world of big, let us never fear what’s quiet. Or small. Or hidden.

*Beth Moore wrote a fabulous blog that overlaps these ideas and I think you’ll find it freeing. Check it out here.

 

 

 

 

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Sharing God’s Mercies In A New Year

by | Jan 10, 2013 | Encouragement, Holidays

Christmas is out the door, with the exception of a few hanger-on pine needles I’ll be finding well into August. It’s time for another year, and like a train on a schedule it doesn’t hold its doors for me to get on board, before its smoke plumes and whistles and gears start cranking. Ready or not.

I begin each New Year with a general sense of contemplation, as I imagine most do.

Whether we buy into resolutions, diets, gym-joining, goal-setting, we are naturally designed for turning seasons and fresh beginnings. It is only right and good that we consider afresh what we long to do, who we long to be this coming year.

Marketing companies may cash in on what this month represents, but its’ newness they did not create.

This is God’s gift of time measurement. Without it we’d have days running into one another unbound by solstices or seasons, the markings that make it possible for us to determine things like, “Tis grace hath brought me safe thus far.” Januaries give us context for what is “far”. They offer us a moment to pause and consider what has happened, and what we long to have happen.

I’ve been doing much of my contemplation this year through the Gospel of Mark. A new friend of mine encouraged me to steep myself in this particular book because Mark writes more about the Kingdom of God than any of the other Gospel writers. Since one of my desires this year is to see a greater coming of Jesus’ Kingdom here on earth – in everyday, real life we’re talking about here – I’m enjoying a book I’ve read many times before, only this time in a different way.

I mused with this new friend who happens to be ministering in a particularly unsettled part of the world. I told her how I struggle to talk about the Gospel in ways the people around me understand, even desire. This is a much bigger conversation than whatever fits into the going length of a blog these days, but her response to me needs little room. In fact, she began with a question: “Kelly, what did Jesus tell the man from Gerasenes, the one He cast the demon out of, to do?” We were eating at a place called Potbelly’s. Just being at a place with this name made me less smart. I couldn’t remember. She smiled and then began to deliver a truth the way Proverbs speaks of a word fitly spoken. “Jesus simply told him” she said, “tell your people about the mercy God has shown you. That was His evangelism strategy.” (Mark 5:19, for precise quotation).

I nearly burst into tears for two reasons I can trace. The first was out of relief. I have so thoroughly complicated the process of sharing my faith, witnessing, evangelizing, however you may name it, that I have missed the ease with which a person speaks about Jesus who has firsthand experienced Him. We should speak of His mercies as naturally as the songbird carols from our windows; I have never once prompted her. If we have a redemptive story to tell we should tell it often to all manner of listeners. Which brings me to my second traceable reason for tears: Sometimes I struggle receiving the mercy God has shown me. If I can’t connect to His personal love then the faith-story I tell others will be forced and awkward, saddled with inaccessible doctrines that may be true, but they won’t be life. The man from Gerasenes had everything he needed to share the fame of Jesus in his community because he’d had a personal encounter with Jesus.

We will talk about Him to the degree we experience Him.

I am still contemplating. Contemplating about what the Lord has done for me, and how He has had mercy upon me. I am examining why I often struggle to receive such goodness, or simply fail to recognize it. The truth is that every Christ-follower has a story of mercy to share, and when we share it with passion, humility, joy and even ease, well then, perhaps more people around us will respond the way the people of the Decapolis responded to the man from Gerasenes.

“and they were all amazed.”

 

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Happy New Year

by | Jan 2, 2012 | Encouragement, Holidays, Uncategorized

The Minters attempting a poised family photo.

Poised Family Photo.

I’m about to pluck the ornaments from the Christmas tree and wrap the lights into a quasi-organized ball of tangles. The mantle will be cleared, and my Vietri santa sugar and creamer that my Mom graciously splurged on for me will be put away until next November or so. The shimmering green, silver, and red wrapped Hershey’s Kisses will remain on my dining room table until they’ve been eaten, because I think you can get away with those well into January. It’s when you’re offering them to guests in August that they become a problem.

Gathering up the Christmas decorations and making way for a new year’s reality can be both disheartening and invigorating. Though I’m always sad to see the holiday season come to an end with its family gatherings, rich foods, post-season football games, times of relaxation, and of course its unparalleled focus on Christ’s birth, I am usually ready to begin the year anew. Like most of you, I’m sure you’ve been pondering the experiences that you were ready to see vanish into 2011 and the ones you hope to see dawn in 2012. I hope the following will be of some encouragement to you…

I was reading in I Samuel 25 last week, and was stirred by a phrase in verse 28 that will usher me into the new year. The following words were spoken by Abigail to King David, “…the Lord will certainly make a lasting dynasty for my master, because he fights the Lord’s battles.” I don’t know what battles lie in front of you, but in the spirit of transparency I have wasted precious moments of my life fighting battles that were not the Lord’s. I have spent valuable nights worrying about relationships I wasn’t supposed to be in in the first place. I’ve needlessly toiled over obstacles in my career that weren’t part of God’s plan. I’ve fretted over finances when the Lord had already promised to provide for my needs.

When I read the above words that characterize David’s life, I was inspired to specifically seek God’s direction for this coming year. “Lord, I don’t want to waste valuable time that I can never get back fighting battles that are meaningless.” This year I want to learn more of what it means to fight where it matters. Whether it’s struggling in prayer for those in the Amazon region of Brazil, studying the Scriptures, designating money to the needs God has put on my heart, spending time over coffee with those who could use encouragement, learning a new skill, cooking a new dish… I want to contend where God’s asked me to.

How beautiful that according to John 15, we don’t have to do this alone. Christ is the vine, and we are the branches that naturally grow out of that vine bearing the fruit He authors. I am excited for this coming year; Thankful for what God has done in my life in 2011, and looking forward to the ground He will ask me to fight for. In the meantime, I’m going to cook some kale, cannellini bean, sausage soup for tonight, and watch pieces of the numerous college bowl games. I may even take a nap.

Thank you so much for your incredible support of me over the past few years. I am thankful for each and every one of you, even if we have yet to meet. May God’s favor rest upon you in 2012.

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