Sisterhood of the Traveling Plants

"Forget the former things: do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the desert and streams in the wasteland" (Isaiah 43:18-19).

"How could plants that thrived for a decade deteriorate to near death in eight weeks?", I asked my husband in astonishment. Unable to take them into our hotel room while we searched for a new home we entrusted them to a close friend. She informed me they were struggling a "little", as she followed my instructions regarding their care. She meant well. But somehow they were slowly neglected and arrived at my doorstep parched and shriveled; a mere shadow of their former beauty and a lot like me.

The dragon plant took the worst hit shrinking from over four feet tall to half its size. With tape and sticks my sweet friend attempted to repair the damage she'd done on the plant's drooping trunk. It looked like it was on life support! Thankfully, my precious husband hid the plants in the garage until after my friend's visit. When my eyes first beheld them I gasped in shocked then burst out laughing. As tears rolled down my laughing face I exclaimed, "These plants are a metaphor of me!"

Watering my plants I realized my sisterhood with them. We'd both traveled a rough journey during this relocation. Uprooted from all that was familiar to me, all that made my life comfortable and easy, I wasn't thriving spiritually, physically or emotionally in our new city. I miss our friends, our church; our neighborhood. Now life is foreign and lonely like a dry wasteland. It's pretty here but I feel displaced.

Some days I chastise myself, angry that I'm acting as if I've been exiled to an awful place. But it's not an attitude of ungratefulness that's stunting my growth. I lack nourishment because I've rushed through my quiet time with Jesus. My plants are a reflection of the way I feel inside, but all is not lost! Just as there are tiny green leaves of new growth pushing through my plant's withered stalks, so there is life in me. This desert season has increased my compassion for those who struggle far worse transplanting, such as our brave military and their families.

As I read my Bible and God's Word washes over my parched soul, I am reminded of His purpose for the uprooting. He is more concerned with character development than comfort; there is something new He's birthing in me. If I let Him plow and plant something beautiful will bloom for His glory. "Father, help me remember the goodness of the past without hanging on so tightly that I miss the new thing you are doing" (Isaiah 43:18-19). Thank you!

Your sister and herald for Jesus,

Mary

Rejects Welcome

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“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Sifting through hundreds of resumes each week would sometimes leave me callous. As a corporate recruiter I was not trained to be emotionally attached to the applicants. My eyes scanned the documents seeking to identify only those who perfectly match the job description. There was no interest in the misfits. Not so long ago the Lord pressed upon my heart that the world’s standard of perfection is often translated into a reflection of His standard. This is a false perception because Jesus loves what society rejects, and welcomes us close where He makes us perfect. He does not expect us to approach Him in this state, or to pursue it without His help. Attempting this in our own strength only leaves us exhausted.

How rested do you feel today? If you are like me the endless pursuit of perfectionism the world demands leaves you depleted each day. Until recently, I never used to contemplate the people behind the names on the resumes that did not measure up to the standards the hiring manager required. More and more I see large gaps in their employment history, and I find myself saddened that I cannot help them. Because I cannot plead their case to the manager does not mean there is nothing I can do for them. There is another option God has given me; I can pray they will be blessed.

As I select the reject button that sends the candidate an email my imagination overtakes me. I wonder how they will react when they receive the automated note informing them they are not a fit. Is disappointment heavy on their heart because they have been out of work so long? Are they facing financial ruin? Have they run out of hope? How is this job search affecting them emotionally? Are they exhausted physically and spiritually? Do they have a good support system, or is their faith waning? At this moment my silent prayer begins as I beseech the Giver of all good things to bless them with work.

In the middle of one of these quiet prayers the Holy Spirit interrupts my thoughts to remind me to pray these people draw near to Jesus. He knows the longings of their heart, and will supply all that is needed. I pray He will open doors that no one can close, and that His favor rests on them. In their moment of rejection my hope is they will turn to Christ who never turns down anyone who seeks Him. There is only one qualification to be welcomed into His kingdom, and that is to believe that He paid your entrance fee with His blood. By your own merit you cannot be good enough, smart enough, or well-connected enough to gain access to heaven.

You cannot make your life’s resume flashier or join a social networking group that will put you in good standing with Jesus. This is good news to all who are worn out trying to get God’s attention as I was for so many years! You are granted direct access to Him as you develop a personal relationship with Jesus through prayer, fellowship and Bible study. This is where you will learn for yourself that He wants to lift your cares, and give you the soul rest you crave.

While my prayers for those resume owners who I may never meet may seem trivial, I believe they are powerful because God is prompting them out of me. Who knows, one day a fellow saint may whisper in my ear as we’re praising Jesus side-by-side, “You were the one who prayed for me to be encouraged when I was downtrodden. I turned to Jesus and He welcomed me in.” Such joy there will be when we behold the receiver of the prayers the Father asked us to recite. Let us ask God to sharpen our senses to those who need to hear these healing words. “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28).

Your fellow sojourner,

Mary

Real Love Hurts

“Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7).

Have you ever loved someone so much you were willing to trade your comfort for their suffering? In the midst of their painful trial did your heart break as you stood by helpless to relieve their burden? Did you ask God to transfer their sorrow to you because you are strong and ready to fight for the weak? If so, whose pain were you looking to alleviate? Was it your own discomfort you wished to eliminate after you’d exhausted all your coping mechanisms? Or was it compassion for the one who suffers whose life you value above your own? Only the later is real love, and real love hurts.

There are days when I question why there is so much hardship in the world. Does Jesus not care about the person I’m praying for whose situation grows increasingly worse? Of course He does! Likewise, He cares about shaping me to be more like Him. That’s what a follower is supposed to do—reflect the image of the leader they are focused on. It’s in life’s trials that Christ reveals more of His love to me, and shows me how limited my capacity to love is without His Holy Spirit molding my heart.

Over the past few years God has given me many opportunities to feel a tiny speck of His immeasurable compassion for the whole human race. Often this involves watching someone I love suffer unbearably. There were moments when I beg Jesus to lift their cares and place them on me; fearing they will collapse under the weight of it all. I watch them trapped in their grief and in my love for them I long to pull them out of the pit of weeping into the light of rejoicing. My desire is for their season of mourning to be turned into dancing, as I cry for their plight. In my soul’s lowest hour of agony God’s voice broke through the wailing, and He shared this truth with me.

“Mary, I love them far more than you do. Your feelings of compassion come from Me. Every time you long to exchange places with them, and make their suffering your own, you are connected to My Son. I am giving you a small glimpse of my extravagant love for all mankind. Jesus loved you so much He couldn’t bear to let you die because of your sins. He elected to take your place, and it was His love for you that held Him on the cross in Calvary. His love is the greatest love. It perseveres in the face of death. It’s real, and real love hurts.”
As I ponder these words the Father has spoken to me, I am both thankful and challenged. Gratitude comes from knowing He is allowing me to experience a limited portion of Christ’s powerful love. Not only do I want more of this love, but I want to share it with hurting souls everywhere. The challenge set before me is to not give up. Real love never quits. It’s a forever love not based on whimsical feelings, but on continually choosing to love so tenaciously that I have the best interest of others in mind over myself. Praying for Jesus to help me be the lover the world needs to see so they will glorify His name. I think I’m on the right path because it hurts. “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered; it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres” (1 Corinthians 13:4-7).
Your fellow sojourner,

Mary