Doing Life Together

When We Think We Are Failures

Posted on March 1, 2016 by Judy Robertson

I come to You this morning, Lord, as a failure—one who can’t get the job done. I’ve failed at the social media/blog stuff—I’ve failed at revealing you to others. My heart is broken. You take failures, don’t You, Lord? I’m grateful, because I am one.

This was my open confession to God today. There’s no use hiding. He knows my ways.

A devotional I read this morning caught my eye. “I know my own failure better than I know anything else in life. Take away my sin, O God, and heal my brokenness. Repair my life that I may yet glorify Your Name” (Senior’s Bible, John Killin, P. 462).

Have you ever felt as though you’re a failure and have become discouraged? We all, I would guess, have been there at one time or another.

What helps turn this around? Where do we go from hanging our heads in shame and maybe some self-pity thrown in, to walking tall and having a smile on our face?

For me it takes some time alone to re-evaluate my own definition of why I believe I’m a failure. And I usually come to this: By whose definition am I a failure? To name a few: I don’t measure up to my own expectations, or in comparison to so- and- so, I just don’t make the grade.

Is that the measuring rod I need to use–how well someone else does this or that?

It’s a necessary part of the evaluation for me, to find someone in the Bible who has experienced believing they were a failure. I even asked, “Lord, are there examples in the Bible of some who thought they were failures and resisted your clear call?” Hmm, glad you asked.

For starters there was Moses who, when God said He was sending him to bring the Israelites out of Egypt, argued with God saying he was not eloquent and that he was slow of speech and tongue. But God reminded Moses, “Who gave man his mouth? Who makes him deaf or mute? Who gives him sight or makes him blind? Is it not I, the Lord? Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say” (Exodus 4:10-11, 13). Moses was so afraid he was unable to perform what God was telling him to do that he had the nerve to continue pleading with Him and said: “O Lord, please send someone else to do it.” Moses was so insecure in his own abilities that God became red hot angry with him. Despite Moses fear, God exhibited amazing patience with His servant.

Then there was Elijah who had, by God’s power, stacked up quite a few credits as God’s prophet. He had predicted a famine in Israel…and God fed him by ravens. He raised the Sidonian widow’s son from the dead, he defeated the prophets of Baal at Carmel, to name a few. And then he became afraid of the evil Jezebel. It’s surprising to see one who was such a faithful servant tuck his tail and run.

There are times when the job just seems too much for us. Elijah was so fearful and tired that he asked God to take his life. Elijah “…prayed that he might die. ‘I’ve had enough Lord,’ He said, ‘Take my life.’ Then he lay down under the tree and fell asleep” (I Kings 19:3-5). Then God mercifully deployed His angels to feed Elijah. “All at once an angel touched him and said, ‘Get up and eat.’ And there by his head was a cake of bread baked over hot coals and a jar of water. He ate and drank and then lay down again.” I can imagine Elijah sleeping deeply and then, “The angel of the Lord came back a second time and touched him and said, ‘Get up and eat, for the journey is too much for you’” (I Kings 19:7). Not intending to oversimplify, sometimes we just need a good meal and a nap.

All this happened toward the end of Elijah’s life journey and shortly before his successor, Elisha, was anointed to take his place.

The disciples must have felt like the worst of failures when at Gethsemane Jesus asked them to “Stay here and keep watch” for Him. But when He returned they were sound asleep. “Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing but the body is weak” (Mark 14:32-38).

Many times we fall short of being the servant Jesus asks us to be. We miss the mark. We blow it.

At times like this the only place to go is to His feet confessing our sin and weakness and asking for the strength to get us through. Jesus told His disciples to “Come away with me by yourselves to a quiet place and get some rest” (Mark 6:31). Jesus often drew away from the crowds Himself.

Do you know a place that is peaceful and quiet where you can slip away for a half day, even a whole day or weekend? If not, ask God to show you such a place and make plans to go there, rest and invite Jesus to come with you. What a difference a day away can make.

Looking at discouragement I realize we have an enemy in this world who wants us to be discouraged. In fact our struggle is “not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms” (Ephesians 6:12). Make this time of getting away and resting a time to re-arm yourself with “the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes” (Ephesians 6:11). “In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one” (Ephesians 6:16).

We are not alone in this battle of believing we are failures– when we may be exactly where God wants us to be.

When it seems like I’m failing in doing life, perhaps the only thing in which I’m actually failing is trusting that God is instructing me and teaching me in the way I should go, counseling me and watching over me. (From Psalm 32:8)

Emily Freeman says it like this: “The truth is my slowness is not a fault or a sin, but fighting it might be. I tend to think my limitations are my burdens but perhaps they are actually my gifts if I’m willing to see them that way” (Simply Tuesday, Emily Freeman, P.95).

When my trust gauge is bouncing on empty that’s my indication I need to fill up with God’s promises and rest in Him.

More than conquerors (Romans 8:37)

Posted in Being still before God, Confession, failure, Faith, peace, Prayer, Regrets, rest, Trust in God's promises, weakness, When life seems too much | Tagged despair, failure, faith, Prayer | 1 Comment

Ideal…by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on February 26, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

In response to The Daily Post prompt: Teen Age Idol

When I first read this prompt, it sparked a memory from my childhood. When I was about eight years old, my mother asked me to identify an ideal—a person who epitomized characteristics that I would like to have when I grew up.

I chose Elaine, a teenager whose family had recently moved into the house across the street. That house used to belong to my best friend Bonnie Ann’s family, but during the week my baby brother was born, while I stayed with my Aunt Monika and Uncle Hughie and my cousins Monica and Billy, Bonnie Ann’s family moved away.

As excited as I was about having a baby brother, I missed Bonnie fiercely. We’d been constant companions for as long as I could remember. She’d been telling me for months that she was moving away very soon, but since it hadn’t happened, I didn’t believe it. Now she was gone, and I didn’t even get to say “Goodbye.”

One day, I guess to get me out of her hair, my mother suggested I cross the street and introduce myself to our new neighbors. She promised me a girl lived in Bonnie’s old house.

When a tall young lady answered the door, I said, “I’m Andrea. I live across the street, and I want to meet your girl.”

“Well, I’m the girl,” she said, throwing the door wide open for me to enter.

Bonnie’s house looked completely different. The first thing I noticed was the loud tick-tocking of a grandmother clock in the kitchen. I also noticed a piano. “I have a piano at my house,” I said. “I’m going to take piano lessons next year.”

“I take piano lessons,” said the girl, whose name was Elaine, the most beautiful name I’d ever heard. She sat down at the keyboard and played a few songs for me. I admired her long hair, which hung down her back in a braided ponytail. She wore butterfly-wing eyeglasses.

I visited Elaine often during the next few months. She always tolerated me for a half hour or more, then politely begged off so she could do her homework. Eventually, I spent more time with friends my own age, but Elaine and I always waved to each other or spent a few minutes talking when we saw each other around the neighborhood.

So when Mom asked me to think of an ideal, I immediately blurted out, “Elaine.”

“Why?” my mother asked.

“Because she’s nice, and she’s pretty, and she plays the piano, and she’s smart.” That pretty much summed up everything I aspired to.

“Okay,” she replied, seemingly satisfied.

And every now and then (usually when I was procrastinating from practicing piano) my mother would chide, “What do you think Elaine is doing right now?” The notes of Elaine’s piano floated through the open window, nudging me toward my piano bench.

When I entered high school, my friend Patty pointed out an upper class girl and said, “She’s my ideal.” She then enumerated all the reasons why she wanted to be just like her. Patty was the only one of my friends who ever spoke about having an ideal.

When I read The Daily Post’s prompt for January 11, 2016, it occurred to me that my mother (and maybe Patty’s) must have been trying to counteract the influence of cultural idols in my life. The teen-age idol is someone who is “worshipped” because of celebrity. My mother wanted me to admire people because of their character.

Although I did succumb to popular mania (see that story here), I learned to appreciate excellence over popularity. Thanks, Mom.

Posted in Doing Life Together, Family Life, Friendship, Ideals, Parenting, Practicing piano | Tagged children, friendship, Ideal, idols, memoir | 4 Comments

Thankful for an Ever-Present God

Posted on February 19, 2016 by Linda Carlblom

Monday morning I was working at my volunteer job and got a call from my twenty-year-old daughter. She never calls me at work. Texts? Yes. But never calls. So I answered immediately.

“I rear-ended a lady on the freeway. It was just a fender-bender.”

chicago-car-accident-lawyer1

I remained calm outwardly, but felt instantly shaken within. I wanted to rush to her to make sure she was all right, to see for myself she wasn’t hurt, and help her with the process of reporting an accident. I could hardly concentrate on my work.

But then I remembered the simple truth I grew up hearing and believing. God is always with you. He was with my daughter even though I couldn’t be. He would see her through this scary experience and help her in ways I couldn’t.

My shoulders relaxed. I was thankful instead of worried. It’s nearly impossible to be both at the same time.

I was thankful my daughter was OK. I was thankful to see her carefree self walk through the door that evening. To listen to her long-winded chatter about her day, her accident, her life. I wanted to hear every word, see her giving the dogs belly rubs, watch her make a snack in the kitchen.

God’s presence is enough for every situation, both good and bad. I don’t have to worry when I know everything is held in His great, big, loving hands. Even when the news is devastating, the report bad, the answers unknown, God walks beside me and those I love, giving us peace and strength to face whatever lies ahead.

He’s there for you, too.

God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in trouble. Psalm 46:1 (NIV)

Linda

Posted in Uncategorized | 3 Comments

Imitation is the Highest Form of Flattery

Posted on February 13, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

In response to The Daily Post Photography Challenge prompt, Life Imitates Art, I submit a photo I took during a high school reunion weekend:

This is a portion of a large mural on the wall of the cafeteria of my alma mater. Can you guess our mascot?

Posted in Art, photography, Uncategorized | Tagged American Gothic, Life imitates art, The Daily Post Photo Challenge | 1 Comment

Arizona Fine Art Expo…by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on February 9, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

If you are in the greater Phoenix metropolitan area any time between now and April 3, 2016, be sure to visit the Arizona Fine Art Expo.

In North Scottsdale on the west side of Scottsdale Road just south of Jomax, set up near MacDonalds Ranch are 44,000 square feet of tents sheltering exhibits of the work of 120 artists. Passes for the duration of the show are $10 ($8 for military and ages 55+). The Expo is open from 10 AM to 6 PM. Plan to go back for multiple visits. I began to get museum overload after three hours. You can’t see everything in one trip.

by Robin Ray

by Shangri-La Woodworks

by Ted Blaylock

And if you are in the market for one or more large statement pieces for your home or business, this is the place you’ll find it.

Mind you, this is not a craft show; this is fine art (translation: prices range well into the thousands of dollars). The work is by established artists, many of whom have decades of experience. Most come from Arizona and surrounding states; others from as far away as Texas, South Dakota, Wyoming, Montana, Kansas, Iowa, and Minnesota. Some of the artists are actually producing work at the Expo, and most are happy to talk about their creative process. Many make custom artwork.

Sculptor Richard Tucker with a horse-in-progress

by Carol Schinkel

More by Carol Schinkel

What is noteworthy about this show is its diversity. From painting, photography, and sculpture to ceramics, furniture, and less-easily categorized pieces. Lots of Western art, as you would expect from the origins of the artists, but also every style—realistic, abstract, impressionist, folk, cartoonish, and uniquely original.

In an outdoor space surrounded by the tents, there is a garden where some of the larger sculptures are located, along with seating and tables for lunch or a quick snack. There is even a cafe.

by Lynette Moody

by Richard Tucker

Abstract Bird by Tendai Gwaravaza (cobalt)

by Jess Davila

Here is a lovely writing table by John Montoya:

Note the stone inlay:

This credenza is a joint project between John and his wife Betsy Montoya, who painted the colorful buffalo panel.

And this console table is covered in cow hide

and has inlay on the top.

The photographic images below are by Lee Hendrickson. Watch ARHtistic License for an article about him on March 20,2016.

The map below is by Janelle Lindley. A future article on Lindley will appear on ARHtistic License on April 19, 2016.

Some of Ed Caldie‘s artwork hints at another of his passions.

A pianist, he said, “I wish I could make a visual representation of what I hear when I listen to music.” I think he did a pretty good job with Rhapsody. Musicians would understand this:

And one more, Arpeggio:

David Garrison spends part of his year painting in France. Is it just me, or do you see a little Degas influence in his work:

And more:

Honestly, you can almost feel the spray off the waterfall.

Scott Woodward works in sculpture and mixed media. He loves intense color.

Scott L. Wallis paints lush landscapes and florals.

Paula Yates does life-like bronze sculpture:

Bob Coonts‘ love of animals and color shows in his work:

It is said that after Beethoven lost his hearing, he took the legs off his piano, the better to feel the vibrations through the floor. Here is sculptor Phillip Payne‘s rendering of Beethoven: Feeling the Music:

I hope to go back to the Arizona Fine Art Expo at least once more before it closes, and take some more photographs to share. In the meantime, though, go, if you can. It’s a feast for the eyes. And maybe you can even buy something to enjoy in your own home.

Posted in Art, Creativity, Phoenix AZ | Tagged Arizona Fine Art Expo, AZ | 3 Comments

In Praise of Afternoons…by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

Posted on January 22, 2016 by Andrea R Huelsenbeck

In response to the The Daily Post prompt: Because the Night.

If you had asked me in my twenties what time of day I did my best work, I would have said, “In the morning.” I married an early bird, and once I adopted his strategy for catching the worm, I was hooked.

Fir0002/Flagstaffotos

The strategy worked well during my child-rearing years. When the kids were small, they woke as soon as they heard us stirring, eager to get on with the day, reluctant to miss anything.

Waking early also served me well during my teaching career. Getting to work early gave my brain time to prepare for my students.

But when I left teaching for my new writing life, my brain underwent a paradigm shift.

Firstly, I must explain how physically and emotionally exhausted I was. For more than eight years, I’d worked at a job that was never done. I got there early, stayed late, and brought work home with me. On weekends and breaks, I did professional development and volunteer work for my school in addition to correcting papers, documenting student progress, and planning lessons. I put in at least 60 hours a week, and I got by on 5-6 hours sleep a night.

You can only do that for so many years before it takes a tremendous toll on your body.

My first months at home, I was a zombie until noon. A few days I slept until 11:00. When I did get up earlier, all I wanted to do in the morning was eat breakfast and watch reruns of Dog the Bounty Hunter. It wasn’t until the sun reached its zenith that I had any energy to actually do something.

Found on Pinterest; photographer unknown.

I determined that I had five imperatives to accomplish each day: household chores, exercise, piano practice, job hunting, and writing. (I tacked writing onto the imperative list as a default, because I always said if I stopped teaching, I’d write again. But I wanted to be able to pay bills, so I looked for a gig where they regularly gave you money. It took a year of unsuccessful job applications till I realized God had given me this time to concentrate on my writing.)

I have a dear friend who does her writing early in the morning, still in her jammies. I know others who write after the rest of the family goes to bed. But for me, I’ve discovered that at this time in my life, my brain puts ideas into words best in the afternoon. That doesn’t mean that I’m not processing ideas and writing notes all day (and night) long. But noon to 4:00 is blocked out as my dedicated writing time.

In the morning I try to to go to the gym or do something active in between the usual domestic chores. And after dinner I try to squeeze in an hour or so of piano practice around washing dishes and watching television with my hubby.

What do you like to do when your brain is most productive? And when is that, exactly? Does anyone else do their best work in the afternoon? Please add your comment below.

Posted in Most productive time of day, Writing | Tagged memoir, Organization, writing | 10 Comments

Married 50 years and Never a Dull Moment by Betty Mason Arthurs

Posted on January 19, 2016 by Betty Mason Arthurs

Married 50 Years and Never a Dull Moment by Betty Mason Arthurs

Yes, we’ve been married 50 years in June. I believe a few words sums up our marriage: Never a dull moment and plenty of dumb ones.

Our wedding vows, “’til death do us part, so help me God,” spoken on a boiling hot June day in Albion, New York in 1966,’ jump started us as two college sweethearts, a music student and nursing major, on a journey of a good and crazy love affair.

I calculated 365 days times 50 years and it comes out 18,250 days but I must add the days of leap year, which adds up to over 438,000 hours, which means we’ve shared 18,250 bedtime snacks and 2600 weeks of Sunday morning church. Gulp, that’s a lot of days to spend together, almost as many as Mr. and Mrs. Noah. Okay, I hear the groans of our eight grandchildren as they correct me with biblical truth. “Gammy, Noah was 600 years old, 219,000 days, when the flood came and after God’s gigantic Niagara Falls, he lived another 350 years. We don’t know how many years they were married.” I can hope Mrs. Noah liked animals and gully washers and grands.

Never a dull moment and plenty of dumb ones in 50 years is best told by how
we celebrated my husband’s early retirement by planning a two week dream trip from Phoenix in 2006 to England and Italy. Only one nasty glitch intruded into our lovely plans. John popped a small hernia two weeks before our departure date when he helped a friend move. “It’s not life threatening, continue on with your trip,” the surgeon reassured us and scheduled the repair as a welcome home event.

Combine a herniated husband with an arthritic wife, who can only carry her teensy purse, you can see the “dumb” lurking behind the “it’s not my fault the suitcase is the size of a refrigerator on wheels.” We were losing some excitement about our holiday across the pond. My poor groin-injured man also managed the briefcase with his laptop, a backpack with CDs, passports, my medications and snacks, tying all on to the rolling suitcase with flopping wheels.

We flew into Manchester and then took the train to the small town of Thirsk, James Herriot country. Fans of the All Creatures Great and Small books written in the 1970s, can imagine the excitement I felt checking into the ancient Three Tuns Hotel just down the street from my favorite author’s home and office. Alfred Wight, Herriot’s real name, started work as a veterinarian in the 1930s. Tomorrow we would tour the Skeldale house at 23 Kirkgate, now a museum.

The quaint hotel had no doorman or elevator so we dragged our luggage past the downstairs pub up the creaky stairs to our third story room. By now, in spite of my aches and pains, I was helping with the “can’t leave home without it” stuff. However, all grouchiness disappeared when we got to our quaint room with its lopsided doorway, cherry wood antique furniture and electric tea pot with assorted English tea bags. John flopped down on the lumpy bed and switched on CNN.

I looked out the window. “Isn’t this beautiful?” Even though John had traveled to England before, he agreed with me, Yorkshire was gorgeous country.

I filled the tea pot with water and plugged it in. Our cozy room had a tiny bathroom with a huge, ancient tub but no shower. I told John, “I haven’t taken a bath in years and I must do as the English do.” I tossed in the lavender salts from a pretty jar and sank into the tub. The hot water soothed my aching muscles and joints. But what do you do to get out of a tub when you’ve got arthritis and you have no railings to grasp and pull yourself out?

I yelled, “Johnny, help me. I can’t get out!” Did I mention, I was blonde as a baby?

He squeezed behind the tub in front of the heat radiator and towel rack, trying to grasp me below my wet armpits and gently pull me without aggravating my arthritic shoulders and his own bulging hernia. The bath salts had coated me in fragrant slime. There was no way he could get a good hold on me so I did my best to help by giggling while he groaned in pain.

I had to wonder what our neighbors thought of those seniors from America whooping it up next door; perhaps Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks are here and they’ve got more on their minds than mail? Or maybe Lucy and Ricky Ricardo are having a Cuban tryst? Today in 2016, the hotel guests might think Lady Mary from Downton Abbey is behaving badly.

Amid the noise of my splashes, slippery squeaks and giggles, my frustrated hernia-plagued hero wrapped a towel around me and finally hefted me up and out. He wobbled out holding his side and collapsed on the bed.

We did wonder at breakfast if the staff and proper patrons were smirking at us, but maybe we were just being overly sensitive. I won’t mention what happened in London or the fall I took in Milan, Italy which aggravated John’s hernia up to ten on the trickster scale since he was holding my hand and saved me.

What can I say? Mishaps fit in with “never a dull moment and plenty of dumb ones” for our 50 years together, while loving God and each other “through sickness and health, tears and laughter.” We’re the best traveling companions if it’s only to the grocery store for crackers and prune juice, so help me God!

Posted in Family Life, Family Stories, Greatest love ever, Humor, Life Transitions, Love, Romance, sweethearts, Travel, Uncategorized | Tagged love, Marriage of 50 years, sharing life, travel to England | 11 Comments

When Your Child is Hurt by Someone’s Words…by Linda Carlblom

Posted on January 15, 2016 by Linda Carlblom

(This post first appeared on Parenting With a Smile, Jan. 28, 2015)

I remember my children crying from time to time because another child said something either to them or about them that hurt their feelings. Maybe it was simple name calling, or some accusation that was made. It’s one of the things that pulls a mama’s heartstrings the most. How do you handle your child’s crisis?

I used one simple question to get to the heart of the matter. I’d hold them close as they told me what happened and what had been said. Then, wiping away their tears, I’d ask, “Is it true?” Usually the answer was no, so I’d tell them, “Then it doesn’t matter what they said. You and I know it isn’t true. God knows it isn’t true. Now you just have to live in a way that proves it.”

Occasionally, in answer to my question, they’d say yes, what they’d been hurt by was true. Or maybe it was partly true or a misunderstanding. This is a great teaching moment. An apology may be in order, or a change in the way they treat someone. Whatever the situation calls for, assure your child that everyone makes mistakes. Then help him figure out what is the right thing to do. Encourage him to do it and perhaps even offer to go with them for moral support.

Lastly, I’d remind my child that the person who hurt him needs his prayers. Jesus said to “pray for those who persecute you” (Matt. 5:44). Maybe the other child is hurting in some way himself. It’s hard to stay mad at someone you’re praying for. It helps in the forgiveness process. My kids had answers to prayer that were nothing short of miraculous when we prayed for children who hurt their feelings.

Teaching your child to respond with kindness and prayer, rather than retaliation, goes a long way in helping him get along with difficult people. It doesn’t mean he has to put up with ill treatment, but it teaches him forbearance and self control, which will serve him well as he grows into adulthood.

How do you handle your child’s hurt feelings?

Linda

Posted in Bullies, Christian Living, Doing Life Together, Faith, Family Life, Finding solutions, Forgivness, Parenting, Uncategorized | Tagged bullying, children, hurt feelings, Parenting | 3 Comments

You Are Not Broken…by Carol Boley

Posted on January 5, 2016 by Linda Carlblom

You are redeemed. You are not broken.

I’ve been mulling this over for a while and decided now is the perfect time to share it. It may not be popular, as it goes against the current grain in blogs and on Facebook posts. But please hear me out on this. I believe there’s an important point to be made that leads to victory.

An overwhelming number of Christians use the expression, “Broken and Beautiful” to describe themselves. I understand the intended message: “I am not perfect but I am enough. My faults and flaws, while obvious, don’t make me worthless. I may be broken, but I am still beautiful.”

Of course. And yet, is that the whole message God wants us to hear? It’s a given that we all are born at least slightly askew. It could not be more obvious. It’s why we need a Savior. And before we are in relationship with him, indeed we are broken but beautiful. But is it enough to say, “I’m broken and that’s okay”?—words off a Facebook poster.

Is that good news?

And what does broken really mean?

How about this?

“Therefore, if any man be in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come.” (II Corinthians 5:17)

“Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life set me free from the law of sin and death.” (Rom. 8:1, 2)

Does that sound broken to you?

Being a new creation means, among other things, healed. Forgiven. Cleansed. Righteous. Empowered by the same spirit that raised Jesus from the dead.

It requires faith to believe, “God made him who had no sin to be sin for us so that in him we might become the righteousness of God.” (II Corinthians 5:21) It doesn’t look that way if we judge by our own thoughts and actions. But God is asking us to believe him when he says that by his grace we are the righteousness of God in Christ.

It also requires faith to believe Jesus rose from the dead, forgiving all of our sins. Yet that is exactly what Christians believe. Does it require more faith to believe he died to make you whole? In the words of the song “Flawless” by Mercy Me, “The cross has made you flawless.”

You are no longer broken. In one act of his on the cross, you were made righteous. And you know what else?

You are not “undone.” You are complete in Him.

Just because you struggle doesn’t mean you are broken. Just because you are tempted doesn’t mean you are broken. Just because you are subject to human emotion and pain doesn’t mean you are broken. You are a redeemed, perfectly-loved human being who lives in a world that groans under the curse of sin. But you have been forgiven of every one of your sins…past, present, future. And sin no longer rules over you. There is no guilt, shame or condemnation on you.

You are human, subject to human shortcomings and failures. But you are no longer broken.

Check it out. In Christ:

You have the ability to rejoice always. (Philippians 4:4). You have the ability not to be anxious about anything. (Philippians 4:6). You have the ability to choose your thoughts. (Philippians 4:8).You have the ability to be content, to experience the peace of God. (Philippians 4:12; 4:7). You have the ability to stand firm, to be strong and very courageous. (I Corinthians 16:13). You have the ability to forgive (Ephesians 4:32) and to love (I John 4:7).

Does that sound broken to you?

You have the ability to be transformed by the renewing of your mind (Romans 12:2), to have the same attitude as Christ (Philippians 2:5). You have the ability to control yourself. (Galatians 5:23).

Does any of that sound broken to you?

You have the ability to do everything without complaining or arguing. (Philippians 2:14) You have the ability to speak to the creator of the universe who is also the lover of your soul. (Philippians 4:6). You have the ability to control your tongue and speak only words that uplift others. (Ephesians 4:29). You have the ability to be kind and compassionate, to forgive not only your friends and family but also your enemies (Ephesians 4:32).

Does that sound broken to you?

You have the ability to lay down your life for another (I John 3:16).

Again, I ask, does that sound broken to you?

Some say we love the broken not because we are better than they are but because we ourselves are broken. I agree we are not “better” than others and we know what it’s like to be broken. I believe we love the broken because we know how greatly God loves us. John writes that “we love because He first loved us.” (I John 4:19)

Look at the difference in focus: Ourselves or God. When we focus on ourselves and our own thoughts and deeds, we can easily become depressed and discouraged. When we focus on Jesus, we recognize we have been loved beyond our ability to understand, but not beyond our ability to experience. And share. Unconditionally.

“In this world, we are like Him.” (I John 4:17).

That doesn’t sound broken to me.

That sounds like we are more than conquerors. (Romans 8:37).

Be careful how you think about yourself. If you think of yourself as broken, you will be more likely to behave as if you are broken. See what a difference it makes if you think of yourself as the righteousness of God in Christ, redeemed, healed, cleansed, empowered. Even in those times you fail. In Christ, you are not what is broken. The power of sin over you is broken, because Jesus was willing to be broken for you. He was broken so you could be healed and whole.

Even the ability to choose what you believe means you are not broken.

Your part is to consent to be loved by him, accepting his amazing gift of wholeness and freedom and to believe he has redeemed you.

Look at yourself and believe you are broken or look at Christ and be transformed into his image. Believe your eyes or believe your God. As a theology professor of mine at Wheaton Graduate School used to say, “Take God very seriously; yourself, not at all.” The difference? Jesus. Believing what He says. Receiving what he offers. Without him, yes, you are broken, and no amount of self-discipline or willpower can fix you. You cannot save yourself. You need a Savior. A hero. And thankfully, you have one.

And thankfully, the battle over your brokenness has already been won.

If you are in Christ, stop thinking of yourself as broken. Think of yourself as Jesus does…beloved, forgiven, healed, empowered. And beautiful.