Our Longing for God Himself

“The sun shall be no more your light by day, nor for brightness shall the moon give you light; but the LORD will be your everlasting light, and your God will be your glory.” (Isaiah 60:19)

“Behold, this is our God; we have waited for him, that he might save us. This is the LORD; we have waited for him; let us be glad and rejoice in his salvation.” (Isaiah 25:9)

The day we’ve longed for is here. The light stringing, ornament hanging, carol singing, and Advent readings culminate in today’s celebration. If your house is anything like ours, you’ll need a pot of coffee to make it through the ear-piercing screams of excitement as children tear through presents, pushing every noisy button in sight. They’ll prematurely rip tags off clothing and snatch cookies from the table. Everyone will feast until calm settles on the house.

Then the rumble begins again. We reheat leftovers while whiny children beg for more gifts, throwing their three-hour-old present aside. Family fun wears off as tired parents face toddler tantrums. The day we’ve spent a season anticipating arrives with good gifts, but quickly falls short of our expectations.

This is true of many longings in life. We wait in desperation for a baby, only to find that parenthood brings challenges with the joys. We hang tight in the transition, only to discover new loneliness on the other side. We’re happy for a time, but it’s never enough. Never enough new clothes, career opportunities, social media followers, romantic date nights, or hours of sleep.

Some of us feel the “never enough” and we turn to Jesus’ gifts. We read Bible stories with hope, seeing Christ’s power as a means to our desired end. After all, we’re tired of losing our patience with our kids, and we want Jesus to make us better-behaved mothers. We’re tired of seeing our limitations, so we pray for Jesus to help us run at a god-like pace. We’re tired of watching our child struggle, and we’d give anything to see Jesus immediately answer our prayers for healing.

We're not looking forward to the advent of Christ himself, but to the gifts he brings in the sack over his shoulder. In our eagerness to gain from his gifts, we might forget to stop and inhale the aroma of his love.

What does it look like to encounter God’s love and enjoy the gift of his presence today? First, we need the sacrifice of Christ for our sin and the covering of his righteousness to connect us to God. Because of him, we can boldly approach his throne through prayer. We also encounter God himself through the Bible. God’s living and active words are there for us to read as the Holy Spirit helps us apply them in our time of need. Today, as we reheat those leftovers and correct the whiny children, it might be helpful to hum the tune of a worship song. To murmur a verse of praise from the Bible. To take a moment to talk to God himself, because we have full access through the Son.

What will it look like to encounter God’s love and enjoy his presence forever? Someday, when God makes all things new, all of our “never enough” longings will be met in him. We will enjoy the good gifts he gives. Like kids on Christmas morning, we’ll devour the best feast we can imagine with the perfect community of people in the most amazing place. Our tears will be dry and our bodies will be healed, but the post-Christmas morning dissatisfaction will never come because we’ll have the best gift for eternity—God himself.

Momma, let this wonderful truth be a reminder as you celebrate Christ’s birth. More than any other good gift, God wants to give you the better gift of himself. Just look at his track record—in the garden of Eden, in the manger at Bethlehem, on the cross at Calvary, in the indwelling person of the Holy Spirit. He won’t stop until Christ returns and he can give you himself forever. Whatever you’re longing for today, the weight of God’s glory, character, and goodness can bear it. Whatever “never enough” you’re experiencing today is fulfilled by “the always and forever enough” of God.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/APPLICATION:

1. Can you think of a time when God answered your prayer and fulfilled your longing for something? Then what happened? Did that fulfillment last?

2. What are you currently longing to receive from God? What would it look like for you to desire God himself more than the things you want from him?  

3. What are you most looking forward to about the new heavens and the new earth? What does your response reveal about what you may desire more than God?

4. How has God already given you himself, and how will he give you himself forever?

Emily Jensen is the co-founder of Risen Motherhood, currently serving as the Content Director and the co-host of the weekly podcast. Emily enjoys being a part of the women's ministry team at her local church, speaking to mom's about the beauty of the gospel, and teaching in the preschool nursery. Emily, her husband, and their five young children reside in central Iowa.

Our Longing to Be Free From Pain and Suffering

Do you ever have those weeks, months, or even years in which you just yearn to catch your breath? To get a break from the hardship? When you cry out to your Father, “Lord, I am tired of this struggle, this suffering, and battling these circumstances”? You know he is a Good Father—you do. It’s just heavy and hard with no reprieve.

We miscarried in 2016, and again this summer. My body didn’t heal as we thought it would, and we received the expected news that we would need to see specialists (with lengthy waiting lists) before our chance to hear any answers or think about next steps. I am still very much in the middle of walking this long season, often in tears at his feet over how big this all feels.

The logical girl in me wants to believe the lie that if I do this or that, I can navigate my way around the circumstances and handle the weight of this suffering. I fall into the trap of trying to figure how to make it look the “best,” to show only the appropriate number of cracks of hardship as a business owner. I look to practical solutions like finding the best ten ways to meal plan, or turn up my research game to discover ways to make life simpler. And when I get caught up in the strategizing, I’m right where the enemy wants me in my own pain, believing the lie that in my own strength I can.

”But those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” (Isaiah 40:31 NIV)

The truth is, momma, we don’t have to figure out how to carry suffering on our own, because we weren’t built to! The verse above is where I need to go first, by his grace, rather than solution-searching and strategizing in my own strength. His loving heart protects us from having to be self-sufficient because his provision is all we need. And that provision is better than anything else we can put together.

Though I admit my sufferings are hard to see as provision (especially as this season marked by suffering lengthens), I do know that they bring me to him. I’m often ashamed at the amount of questioning, emotions, and frustrations that plague me in a season of suffering, and have learned the importance of having other women encourage me to sit in silence and let it all out to him first, rather than offering a “quick fix” or slapping on a verse out of context like a band-aid to try to numb the hurt.

Can we encourage each other that in Christ we are free to grieve and to feel in seasons of pain, suffering, and hurt without being spiritual failures? Can we remind each other that the grace that saves us is the same grace that sustains us, and we aren’t fixed by our effort? Christ has done more on our behalf than we could ever achieve in our striving. And his promises to the sufferer are rich indeed. He promises that he is with us in our pain, he promises us comfort, but he also promises that he will one day return to eradicate it finally and forever.

”He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” (Revelation 21:4 NIV)

The word “pain” in this verse in the Greek is ponos. The first definition of ponos listed in the Blue Letter Bible app is “great trouble; intense desire.”

Y’all, this definition brought me to tears. It spoke to the exact feelings in my heart, as I often feel like others don’t get my pain. Do you feel that way? This is proof he knows and sees us. And he has gone to great lengths to redeem our current experience and prepare a place for us where we will never know that feeling of great trouble or intense desire again.

The holiday season can often put the places of that particular pain at the forefront. We long to feel cheerful, happy, and jolly but sometimes the traditions and family events are just more of a reminder of who is missing or wanted there: the babies in heaven, the child, parent, or friend who was there last Christmas and not this one, or perhaps just the way we once imagined things would be.

The season of suffering I am walking through often feels eternal. But Scripture tells us that as deep and long-lasting as our pain and suffering may feel, compared to the eternal weight of glory Christ came to offer us, it is "light and momentary" (2 Cor. 4:17). Those words felt dismissive and even cheap to me when I first heard them, but they aren't meant to make us feel overlooked; they are meant to offer us perspective, calling us to see that the God who is intimately concerned with our pain sent his own Son to experience excruciating pain himself, to ensure that our eternity won't look a thing like our present painful season. That is the hope we cling to. And when our hands feel so tired, cracked, and bleeding from trying to hang on that we feel like letting go, he holds us.

Holidays often hold markers that cause us to wonder what life might have looked like without the brand of suffering we’ve experienced. I know things like receiving Christmas cards or attending family get-togethers can be so challenging when you are hurting. I see your pain and suffering, but more importantly, our Lord does. You may feel you’re too much, but he does not grow weary. Though he hasn’t taken you out of this painful place, he sees, he knows, and he is at work within it—working for your good and for his own glory.

We have a known in our unknowns. At Christmas we celebrate the beginning to our forever in Christ. Even if we cannot see what he is currently working within us, or make sense of our current suffering, we can know the certain end of our story because of the finished work of Jesus.

“Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.” (Romans 8:17 NIV)

This hope is the anchor to our souls in every season.

Christ is the victory and the absolute. Christ came for us, humbled himself for each of us—a gift we can’t even begin to fathom. By his life, death, and resurrection, he secured for us the promise that life with him doesn’t end here; one day we will live in a place forever with him that is free from any kind of pain or tears.

Momma, I don’t know what your suffering looks like today. Whether it is current and long-lasting or just finished. But the hope Christ offers us in the midst of suffering is the same. Will you join me this holiday season in “working the muscles” of speaking the truth of who he is and what he has done over your heart? Take your overwhelming heavy load to his feet for renewal and strength each day this Advent. And receive there the comfort of his presence and power now with you, and his promise of redemption, renewal, and rescue from sorrow in the world to come.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. In what way are you currently experiencing suffering? Perhaps you are walking through a difficult circumstance with someone close to you? Perhaps it is your own? What questions and anxieties have arisen for you during this time?

2. How does the coming of Christ offer us help as we presently experience suffering and hope as we imagine our certain future with him?

3. How have you seen the faithfulness of the Lord in your life or those around you even amidst suffering? What can you do practically to walk through your current season remembering his goodness?

Gina Zeidler is a Wedding and Lifestyle Photographer + Encouragement Enthusiast. When not behind a camera or chasing her toddler around, Gina leads with a big heart and there’s nothing she loves more than uplifting women and their families in every season of their life. When she’s not capturing images you’ll find her sipping kombuchas by the lake in the Twin Cities of Minnesota. There’s nothing that lights her up more than sparking up a conversation about Jesus, business, faith, family, and living real life with her husband and little one.

Our Longing to Be Selfless

“Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves. Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others. Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. Therefore God has highly exalted him and bestowed on him the name that is above every name, so that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.” (Philippians 2:3–11)

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I see you. I know how little sleep you’ve had. I know how many noses (and other ends) you wiped today. I heard you lose it with your four-year-old. I also heard you an hour later when you held your tongue and prayed for grace and spoke softly. I saw you put away the shoes scattered across the foyer for the fifth time today. I know you cooked dinner (not hot dogs!) even though it inspired three individual hunger strikes. I know you met an important deadline at work this week in the midst of your full-time momming. You’re doing it all. You’re juggling all the balls. You are giving your all every day.

This is all we want to hear, isn’t it? It’s what we crave; it’s what we’re longing for. Recognition. Validation. Encouragement. We don’t think ourselves prideful; we just want to know that our hard work is appreciated, that it’s not for nothing, and that these people we love so much can see all we are doing for them. That’s not bad … right?

We have our good days, when it all feels worth it and we feel appreciated, but what about when our efforts are ignored or trivialized or taken for granted? What do we do when we are so tired from giving and just want a break? How do we fight off the resentful and bitter voice that starts slinging accusations around in our tired brains? What’s the point of trying if no one even cares?

It starts with shifting our perspective of what it means to love and whom we are serving. The Apostle Paul offers us this reminder for that very moment:

“Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.”  (Colossians 3:23–24)

One more time, for those in the back row: “You are serving the Lord Christ.”

“Not for men” means not for my children, not for my husband, not for the eyes of others, and not for my own glory. We pray for patience, ask God for endurance, praise him for our Starbucks, and all the while look right past him while we long for our families to validate our efforts. We place an unbearable burden—that of refilling our depleted hearts—on the humans closest to us, and fail to see that every single task put before us each day is meant to be done in service to the Lord Christ. If my work is ultimately for Christ, more than it is for them, then it is his glory and delight in me that matters, not theirs.

My performance doesn’t need to be fueled by the recognition of my kids. I don’t need their gratitude, or the praise of my mother, or to win the who-is-the-most-tired competition with my husband.

Jesus not only gives me a better motivation for my service, he also provides a powerful example of selflessness in serving.

“But whoever would be great among you must be your servant, and whoever would be first among you must be your slave, even as the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Matthew 20:26b–27)

We’re tired, because we’re incredibly busy people. We have households to run, careers to cultivate, babies to turn into functional adults, meals to cook, minivans to navigate in soccer field parking lots, husbands to stay connected to, dogs to walk, and homework to supervise. It’s taxing and it’s sacrificial and can feel thankless, and sometimes we want to set our hair on fire. Don’t we sometimes feel the work to which we’re called is work that is beneath us?

Look again at the words of the verses from Philippians you read a few minutes ago: “...though he was in the form of God, [he] did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” Christ Jesus emptied himself to become a baby and later die a death he didn’t deserve so that he could raise you to eternal life. That work was not beneath the Son of God. And Paul tells us in Philippians that this mind of humility and selflessness is ours in Christ Jesus.

The coming of Christ not only offers us both a more worthy object of service and an example of selfless service, but also the power to serve selflessly through the gift of the Holy Spirit. I can put the needs of my family before mine (and do it with joy!) because of Jesus. I can let the bitterness melt away and dismiss all the resentful titles I give myself—a chauffeur, a dairy cow, a short-order cook, a maid. I am none of those. I am a daughter of the King, redeemed by the blood of the Son, and I have the power of his Spirit in my body to empower me to selflessly serve the way that my servant King came to selflessly serve.

I can consciously dismiss my resentment each time it tries to slip back into my exhausted head by “looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross” (Heb. 12:2a).

He is the joy set before you and me, and he came to free us from our desperation to be seen and appreciated, as well as from guilt we feel for longing for that recognition. He lived the selfless life we could never live in our own strength, offered himself as a living sacrifice for us on the cross, and enables us now to die to our sin through the gift of his Spirit who empowers us to fight the flesh and work joyfully.

Your Father in heaven sees you—not just the work you have done, but the redemptive work of Christ on your behalf. You can serve out of the humble knowledge that you are seen, rather than the prideful desire to be seen. Go and serve with joy and selflessness because this servant King has served you, and he is worthy of your service.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. Does your work as a mom ever feel thankless and beneath you? What specifically causes you to feel this way?

2. How does the picture of Christ becoming a baby and later dying an undeserved death provide encouragement to you there?

3. What would look different if you were to do the work before you out of thankfulness and appreciation of your Servant King instead of the desire to be thanked and appreciated? Your attitude? Your relationships? Your work itself?

4. Print and put Philippians 2:1–11 in a place in your home where you are tempted to resent your work or your people. Ask the Holy Spirit to transform your heart and motivation into that of Christ Jesus.

Karin Curtis lives in Bluffton, SC with her high school sweetheart (now husband) and their three sons. They spend a lot of time at the beach and have no idea how spoiled they are. Karin works from home, surrounded by soccer balls and Lego, as a family photographer and as the communications coordinator for Hilton Head Presbyterian Church. She really likes running, brownies, and donuts, and plans to sleep when she’s old. You can find her normal life on instagram as @karinsc or her family photography at @karincurtisphoto.

Our Longing for Wisdom and Understanding

“I just don’t know the best way to help him.” She held out her claw-marked arms. “He’s always so sad afterwards.” Her four-year-old’s tantrums had escalated to a place where she didn’t want to ask anyone for advice anymore. She didn’t want people to think less of her son, and she wasn’t sure anyone could really relate anyways. The experience was isolating. And defeating.

Perhaps it’s not tantrums for you, but if you’ve been a mother for more than an hour you’ve doubtless experienced that gut-wrenching panic summed up by the phrase, “I just don’t know what to do.” Society has told us that “Mother knows best” but so often we moms find ourselves feeling as if we don’t know much of anything. When confronted with our own lack of wisdom, shame wells up within us as we wonder what’s wrong with us or doubt that we are suited for the task to which we have been called. Most recently for me, my lack of know-how has been exposed in shepherding our two-year-old through a season of intense fear:  Should I just stay home instead of leaving him with the sitter? Do we just lie with him each night until he falls asleep? Should we stick to a strict bedtime and make him stay in his bed? What’s the right way to handle it?

I’ve watched others walk through it as their children are diagnosed with special needs, or diseases like juvenile diabetes, or other medical or psychological complexities that require making decisions about therapy and care. Motherhood confronts us with our limitations like no other calling I have ever known. It feels as if she tosses us into unfamiliar water and demands we stay afloat with babes in arms when we barely know how to swim ourselves.

He Has Become Wisdom For Us

“It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness, and redemption.” (1 Corinthians 1:30 NIV)

I love this verse. It’s a relief to that water-treading mama, exhausted and overwhelmed by her own lack of knowledge, because it serves as a reminder that not as much depends solely on her as she feels. You see, we have to zoom out a bit from those current circumstances that have us feeling baffled and defeated to remember that our limitless God is incredibly aware of our own limitations. He designed us that way—wisely, I might add—lest we forget our need of him.

This verse reminds us of the gospel. Christ, the prince of heaven, took on flesh in the form of a helpless babe, in order to help us. We are not saved by our own wisdom, but by his mercy. The source of all wisdom, God himself, offered us his wisdom in his Son—making us wise to salvation, giving us a much-undeserved opportunity to have eternal life. There is no room for shame over inability to do it well or do it ourselves when we behold what he has done for us. It is cause for great rejoicing. And the same source that makes us wise to salvation also equips us for every good work to which he calls us,  including the good work of motherhood.

He Promises Us Wisdom

If we could not obtain wisdom for salvation on our own, why should we depend on our own wisdom for daily living? Rather than cowering in shame or defeat when the needs of our children exceed our know-how, we must look up to the Source of all wisdom, knowing that he who did not spare his own Son, will “also with him graciously give us all things” (Rom. 8:32). James reassures us of the way God responds to our petition for wisdom, reminding us that he is one “who gives generously to all without reproach,” and assuring us that wisdom will be given to us when we ask (James 1:5).

In the garden, the serpent’s deceitful question about this generous and wise character of God led Eve to lay hold of knowledge for herself rather than trusting the words of the Source of all wisdom. Similarly, when we find ourselves longing for better understanding, he tempts us to turn elsewhere or to turn inward in shame. We don’t like to feel limited. But humility is the gateway to wisdom, driving us to our Father who delights to give us the understanding we need to accomplish the tasks to which he calls us.

Should you doubt that, peer into the manger, where he generously offered us Christ Jesus. Remember the curtain that tore, giving us access to the Father through the death and resurrection of his only Son so that we could ask of him! And in those moments where the answer isn’t made clear by his Word and you find yourself paralyzed by fear, remember the freedom that has been provided you by the gospel to walk forth in confidence by the power of the Holy Spirit, trusting your Father to guide your feet.

Christ fulfills our longing for wisdom and understanding. He took on flesh to live a perfect life, making perfect choices out of his perfect understanding so we wouldn’t have to live under the weight of trusting our own knowledge to rescue us or our children. By his death and resurrection, he purchased our salvation and gave us access to the Father so that we can not only ask for but receive wisdom from this generous God who did not withhold his own Son.

Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Col. 2:2–3), makes us wise unto salvation and equips us for every service to which we are called (2 Peter 1:2–3).

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. How have you experienced your own lack of wisdom and understanding in motherhood?

2. What is your typical reaction to situations that expose your limited understanding? How are you tempted to run to other sources of wisdom or turn inward in shame?

3. Do you believe that God will supply wisdom when you ask? How does the verse from Romans 8:32 about God not withholding Christ (wisdom made manifest) offer encouragement here?

4. What does it mean that “humility is the gateway to wisdom”? What would it look like in your next exposing moment of motherhood to take this posture of humility? How does the coming of Christ make that possible?

Abbey Wedgeworth is a wife to David mother to two boys, and nap-time writer living in Hilton Head Island, South Carolina. She is passionate about helping young moms apply the riches of Christ to the realities of motherhood. You can find more of her writing on her blog or connect with her through Instagram.

Our Longing to Be Free From Striving

It had been another hard day with our new baby who wouldn’t nurse or nap well. Even more, it had been another hard day of seeing all the ways I was falling short of the mom I wanted to be. I had lost my temper and failed to complete the tasks I had planned for the day. I was feeling frustrated, out of control, and disappointed in myself.

When my husband came home from work and kindly offered to take the baby so I could get some time alone, I basically ran out of the house as fast as I could. A few minutes later, I found myself at a coffee shop, hands shaking as I scribbled a desperate prayer on the back of my receipt: “This is too much! I’m trying really hard, but I keep failing to hit the ‘good mom’ standard I have in my head. I am not enough for this!”

I had hit a wall.

Two additional kids and eight years later, I can see that this particular “wall” was the first of many I would run up against in motherhood. But I have found that God uses the walls we hit to lead us back to the gospel.

In Matthew 11:28–30, Jesus issues a beautiful invitation to those of us who keep hitting walls as we strive to meet all the standards: “Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”

Picture two oxen hitched together with a wooden frame, straining as they work to plow a field. This wooden frame is called a yoke, and it was a common metaphor for subjection to a person or law in ancient Judaism. The religious leaders of Jesus’ day had misinterpreted God’s good law, creating extra rules nearly impossible for the everyday person to keep (Matt. 23:4). Like oxen yoked to a heavy plow, the people were burdened and straining to walk forward beneath all of this extra weight. No matter how hard they tried, they were always falling short of the standard. They were never enough!

As moms, we too may find ourselves heavy laden, straining beneath invisible yokes. Like me, you may be working under self-imposed burdens: “a good mom” would never raise her voice, would always feed her kids healthy food, or would always be able to maintain control of her house, her kids, and her to-do list. Or, you may be laboring under the weight of external pressures: the expectations of a mother-in-law, the unspoken standards of a friend group or church, the “mommy laws” you might unknowingly absorb from your social media feed.

Burdened by all of these expectations, we moms can feel like we are never going to be enough. Sometimes, God even allows us to hit a wall, and suddenly we know we are never going to be enough! Weary from trying to measure up, we long for rest from our striving.

And that, friends, is where Jesus comes to us with very good news. In Matthew 11, this good news comes in the form of three commands and one beautiful promise:  

“Come to me.” Jesus, Emmanuel, God with us. God stepped into time and space to invite the ones who could never measure up to come to him. There are no expectations or standards to meet here, for he has already met every standard perfectly. We are not enough, but he is enough! And through his death and resurrection, he credits his “enough” to us (2 Cor. 5:21). We can come, confident not in our own mothering abilities but in his provision and grace.

“Take my yoke.” Because the sinless Jesus already kept the law perfectly, we are free to trade our heavy yoke of striving for his light and easy one. His commandments are not burdensome, but are given for our flourishing (1 John 5:3). Yoked to Jesus and walking in the power of his Spirit, we find strength and joy and real life—even in the trenches of motherhood.    

“Learn from me.” Here, Jesus calls us to be his disciples, to learn from him as we follow his ways and keep in step with his Spirit throughout our day. Although we are weak and we fail, he carries the weight, his grace is sufficient, and his power is made perfect in our weaknesses (2 Cor. 12:9). Like a weaker ox laboring beside a much stronger one, we do the work of motherhood alongside a strong but gentle Jesus, empowered by his very Spirit, trusting him to use our everyday motherhood moments to make us more like him (Rom. 8:26–29).

“And you will find rest for your souls.” True rest from our striving comes not from a night away from our kids, some “me time” during a successful nap, or a day at the spa (although those can be nice!). True rest comes from an ongoing relationship with the person of Christ, and trusting completely in his work on the cross.

Friends, Jesus carried the weight of every standard we could not meet to the cross, and left them buried in the grave when he rose again. Yoked to him, he invites us to trade our striving for rest, looking forward to that glorious Day when we will lay down our burdens forever.

If you are weary and tired of striving this Advent, would you heed his tender invitation? Come to him, take his yoke, and learn from him, that you would find true rest for your soul.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. Do you relate to Caroline’s coffee shop receipt prayer? When is the last time you experienced one of these “walls” of coming to the end of yourself?

2. Make a list of the “impossible standards” you feel the weight of in motherhood? Have you or the people around you, like the Pharisees, added to the standard God puts forth for his people?

3. How should Christ’s fulfillment of the law on our behalf, and the knowledge that he walks with us, change the way we respond to our own shortcomings? How does it free us from the expectations of others?

In 2011, Caroline Cobb gave herself a goal to write a song for every book of the Bible in a year. That year of writing set in motion a new passion to tell the stories of scripture through music, faithfully and creatively. Caroline’s latest album, a Home & a Hunger: Songs of Kingdom Hope explores the tension between the "already" and "not yet,” with each song parachuting into a different biblical scene. Caroline and her husband Nick live in Dallas, TX with their three young kids (Ellie, Harrison, and Libby).

Our Longing to Be Heard

Deep into a conversation with my mentor one afternoon I found myself admitting, “I wish I was one of those mysterious people.” You know, those people who seem perfectly content to sit in a group and just enjoy what others have to say. I am more on the “talk too often and put my foot in my mouth“ side of the spectrum. I have a become increasingly aware of my tendency to overshare with those around me about my circumstances and emotions in what I am discovering is an effort to be known and understood by them. I never knew how much this longing to be heard was shaping my life until God put it under a fluorescent light for me two years ago, revealing both the depth of this desire and the insufficiency of others to fill it.

In November 2015, I boarded a plane with my husband and one-year-old daughter to answer God’s call on our lives to plant churches in Tokyo, Japan. We were excited, hopeful, and scared to death.  Before this move, I was completely unaware of all the ways my life was comfortably organized so that my needs were met “outside of” God. Although God has chosen to reveal thousands of things to me through this huge transition, the most clearly illuminated has been how I had always comfortably relied on those around me to be heard and understood. I didn’t know more than “hello,” “goodbye,” and “sorry” in Japanese when we landed at the Tokyo airport. I was struggling to have my meal order understood, much less my heart.

Even now, after a year and half of studying this language with its three alphabets and 13 verb forms and strict rules for how you talk to people older or “higher” than you, I still feel far away from being able to communicate my deep longings and joys to the people with whom I have come into relationship here. This reality has at times made me feel lost, alone, and, frankly, scared—which is a condition the Israelites in Scripture were no strangers to.

Since the establishment of God’s people, they were wanderers and foreigners, lost in the wilderness, alone in their faith, and in fear of oppressors all around. But if there is one thing of which we can be sure in reading the adventures of God’s people in the Old Testament, it is that their Father heard them. He heard their cries for liberation and orchestrated their escape from Egypt (Exodus 12); he heard their cries of hunger and provided bread from heaven (Exodus 16); and he heard their cries for water and brought forth a river from a rock (Exodus 17). He heard them. And he understood them and what they needed better than they knew themselves.

You, my sweet sister in Christ, might be feeling a bit lost and alone, unheard and misunderstood right now. You may not be dealing with a language barrier specifically, but you are feeling alone and longing to be heard by a busy spouse, a distant family, a brand new set of friends, a rebellious child, or a demanding (or seemingly deaf) toddler. Dear sister, I have something I want us both to know and believe. Our Father hears you, even when it seems like no one else does. Hebrews 10:19, 22–23 says, “Therefore, brothers, since we have confidence to enter the holy places by the blood of Jesus … let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.”

Our God is faithful to us, his adopted children. He gave up the life of his precious Son and covered us with his purity so we can come unashamed into the presence of God, the “holy place,” and be understood to a deeper and fuller level than anyone on this earth ever could. The One who promises to hear us is the one who made us and rejoices in us—in all our quirks, joys, and pains. Psalm 139 tells us that before a word is on our tongue he knows it and that he discerns our thoughts from afar. Your Creator hears and understands you even more than you know yourself.

The next time you repeat yourself to your toddler for the thousandth time, or get that puzzled look from a friend who can't quite understand, or try yet again to communicate that one thing you long for your spouse to catch on to, try to see it as an invitation to remember the way that God hears and understands. I know it is so hard in those moments to do this, but talk to him, my sister.

He sent his Son to be born among us and experience the separation from the Father we deserved so that we would be able to feel his close, constant presence in our times of greatest need. Christ died so that you could be in communion with him, and he sits at God’s right hand ever interceding for whatever may make you afraid to “draw near.” Talk to the one who has “the whole world [including you] in his hands.” He longs to hear from his children and reveal himself to be the only one who can fulfill our hearts’ desire to be heard.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What do you most wish the people in your life understood about you right now? How hard raising your toddler is? How difficult your marriage has become? How scared you feel about the future? Whatever it is, take a second to drink in the fact that your Heavenly Father deeply knows you and understands these things about you. Ask him to show himself to you in these specific places of fear and pain.

2. Do you have trouble remembering that God promises to hear you and care for you? Do you need to be reminded often? Tape this verse to your mirror or windshield (or, if you are constantly on your phone like me, put it in a reminder app and have it alert you to read this verse a few times a day): “O LORD, you have searched me and known me! You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from afar. You search out my path and my lying down and are acquainted with all my ways” (Psalm 139:1-3).

3. Is there someone in your life for whom you could be a better listener? Could you be the one person who asks the question and listens with understanding and without judgment to another’s fears or sadness? We will never be perfect at this, but as image-bearers of God, is there some small way we can reflect his listening ear to someone who desperately needs it?

Katie Saunders, her husband Jeff, daughter Emerie (3), and son Ezra (4 months) have been living in Japan since November 2016. Jeff is an ordained minister and they are part of a church-planting mission team based in Tokyo. Living in the largest city in the world has its joys and challenges. What Katie most enjoys about cross-cultural motherhood is the chance to see her children absorb two languages and cultures simultaneously and the opportunity to experience new perspectives and norms for parenting (and choose from both American and Japanese wisdom). You can follow her on Instagram at @ksaunders611 .

Our Longing to Give Our Children Good Things

Last Christmas was supposed to be awesome. Our life had been full of months of difficulty, and our kids bore the brunt of it. I wanted them to have some normalcy, even some fun memories.

Instead they got a mom with strep throat and a dad stretched thin from caring for four (ages four and under) alone. They tried decorating the tree together, but it didn’t exactly go as planned. As I sat upstairs, alone in my bed, all I could do was pray: “God, please give us some relief. Please let our kids have some fun memories from this year.” This had not been the first time that we found ourselves in this position, and it wasn’t the last.

For reasons known only to God, our family has walked through some deep valleys over the course of many months. The difficulty has ranged from nearly dying to emotional issues that have taken up way too much of our time. With each wave of difficulty, I’ve had to reconcile my own desire for good things and the reality of my circumstances. I’ve had to reconcile my longing to give my kids normalcy with the regular upheaval that is our life. I’ve had to reconcile my expectations of “the good life” with the life we live that often doesn’t feel very good.

We are a longing people, aren’t we? Even in the best of times, there is always something lurking around the corner, waiting to bring the house down. Even when life is rosy for us personally, even a cursory glance at the world around us reminds us that we are far from Eden.

Christmas brings to mind for me a flood of longings. In my early years of being a Christian, the longing was one of excitement at celebrating the birth of the Savior. As an adult, the longing is one of deep desire for Christ to come again. Christmas reminds me that I’m not the only one who has longed for good things. I’m not the only one who has longed for all to be made right. Christmas reminds me that I’m not the first parent who has wanted better for my kids, but found myself coming up short.

Maybe you wish you could give your daughter the doll she wants this year—you are not alone. Maybe you wish you could give your kids their grandparents this Christmas—you are not alone. Maybe you wish you could give your kids stability or a life free of suffering—you are not alone.

Jesus came because this world is utterly broken and in need of redemption. He came because our souls are ravaged by sin and in need of cleansing. He came to quench the thirst and hunger that gnaws at us every single day. With all of our sorrow over not being able to meet the needs of our kids, Jesus shows up and says: “I am enough.”

One of the hardest things for me this past year and a half has been the uncertainty of our life. We even planned a much-needed family vacation with trepidation because our life had been so unstable for so long. We begged God to let it happen. We planned. We packed. And in God’s kindness, we went on that vacation and had a wonderful time. But I know it doesn’t always work out that way. Sometimes even the best plans find their match in the brokenness of this world, and we are left bereft and confused. It can leave us wondering if we are actually desiring the wrong things. If I just didn’t want it so badly, maybe it wouldn’t be so hard to accept?

The issue is not about the desire. Desire for good things for our kids is good. In fact, it’s God-like (Matt. 7:7–11). Our kids learn to trust in a God who loves them and cares for them by the way we parent. As Jesus says, how much more can we trust God to provide for us, knowing that even earthly parents meet their kids’ needs? A parent who works to provide for her kids in abundance is actually telling her children what God is like (Is. 49:15). But at the end of the day we will come up short. Even our best attempts won’t meet all their needs (or all their desires). In the same way that we tell our kids what God is like, we also tell them there is only one God—and we aren’t him. When we find ourselves coming up short in giving our kids good things, we can trust that he has already given them the greatest thing they could ever want or need—his Son, Jesus. Jesus is the gift that meets all of their longings (and ours, too). Even if we give them nothing else this Christmas, if we give them Jesus we will have given them everything (Acts 2:38–39).

So we desire, work, and pray with hope. We might not be able to meet all their needs every day (who can, really?), but God is able. We live in broken world that is crying out for redemption, where dreams are deferred and plans go awry. The only certainty we have in this parenting journey is that God is good and he loves us more than we ever could love him (or anyone else). The Messiah has come. He is the best gift we could receive or give. One day he is coming again, and when he does even our greatest longings will be met in him. Give your kids Jesus this Christmas. If you have one gift to give them, make it him.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What are the ways you struggle with what you have to give your kids (whether physically, spiritually, or even emotionally)?

2. How does Jesus’ coming give you hope when you find yourself coming up short?

3. What are some ways you can “give your kids Jesus” this Christmas season?

Courtney Reissig is a wife, mom, and writer. She is the author of The Accidental Feminist and Glory in the Ordinary. In addition to writing, she enjoys teaching the bible to women in her church and seeing them grow to love God’s word for themselves. When she’s not wrangling her four sons, she also enjoys running, coffee, and visiting with friends.

Our Longing to Be Equipped and Empowered

“His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence.… You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, take care that you are not carried away with the error of lawless people and lose your own stability.” (2 Peter 1:3; 3:17)

“I’d be a better mom if I could just get more sleep.”

This was my waking mantra each morning of early motherhood for months. Okay, maybe a few years.

Motherhood took me by surprise. What I mean by that is, the challenges and hard days of motherhood took me by surprise. I didn’t expect them. Oh, I knew I’d have less sleep. But I thought I was prepared overall to be a mom. I had studied and prepped for motherhood long before I ever held my child in my arms. I thought I knew what I would do and say in each situation. I thought I knew what my child would need and that I would be capable of providing it.

Soon enough (no surprise there!) I learned I didn’t have what it takes. I am weak. I am insufficient. I don’t have the wisdom I need. I don’t have the strength. I really don’t have the patience. The challenges of motherhood showed me I did not have what it takes to be the mom I want to be.

So what did I do? I turned and looked to things outside myself for the help and hope I needed. First order of business: find a way to get more sleep, because if I got more sleep, all my struggles would go away—or so I thought. At some point I did get more sleep, but you know what? I still struggled with my weakness and insufficiency as a mom. I kept turning to other things, hoping to find the thing that would make motherhood work. I kept thinking: If only ____ happened, then I would be a good mom.

This passage in 2 Peter reminds us that while we don’t have what it takes within our own strength, wisdom, or ability to live out our responsibility as moms, God has provided the resources we need. We don’t have to look elsewhere; we already have what we need. Peter wrote, “His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness” (emphasis mine). Did you catch that? All things! Moms, this is huge!

Through faith in Christ and what he did for us in his perfect life, sacrificial death, and triumphant resurrection, we now have access to every spiritual blessing. We are united to Christ, who is wisdom for us. We have his Spirit living within us, who teaches us, trains us, comforts us, convicts us, and transforms us. We have direct access to the Father, and can cry out to him in prayer, asking for all that we need.

What this means is, we can live out our callings as moms through the resources God has already provided. We don’t have to despair over our weaknesses. We don’t have to be frustrated by our lack of wisdom. We don’t have to worry or fear that we are doing it all wrong. We don’t have to turn to false teaching or idols or any kind of counterfeit hope. The gospel, the good news of who Christ is and what he has done, provides what we need to be the moms God has called us to be.

I think this is what Mary knew when the angel came and told her the astounding news she would be with child. She responded, “Behold, I am the servant of the Lord; let it be to me according to your word” (Luke 1:38). Later, she sang a song, praising God for his work in her: “My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked on the humble estate of his servant. For behold, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for he who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is his name” (Luke 1:46–49).

God didn’t call Mary to be the mother of Christ because of something special within her. He didn’t call her to bear the Savior of the world because she was somehow more capable than someone else. He called her by his grace and made her sufficient by his grace. Despite her age, inexperience, poverty, and insignificance, he called her and enabled her to be the mother of our Savior.

And so he does with us.

This time of year, as we reflect on the birth of our Lord, let us remember its significance for our lives as moms. That baby that Mary carried and delivered and wrapped in swaddling cloths grew up to be our Savior. Through him, we have all we need as moms. Like Mary, we are made sufficient by God’s grace in and through us.

Through him, we have all we need.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. Do you ever look to yourself or to things outside of yourself for strength, wisdom, and ability in your motherhood? What are those things?

2. What does it mean to you that God has provided all that you need to live out your calling?

Christina Fox is a wife and a mom to two boys. She serves on the national women’s ministry team of the PCA and is the editor of the enCourage blog. She is the author of A Heart Set Free: A Journey to Hope Through the Psalms of Lament, Closer Than a Sister: How Union with Christ Helps Friendships to Flourish, and Idols of a Mother’s Heart. You can find her at www.christinafox.com.

Our Longing to be Better

“And because of [God] you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption.” (1 Corinthians 1:30)

“We were buried therefore with him by baptism into death, in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life.” (Romans 6:4)

I was a skinny five-year-old girl living in Ghana, Africa, and all I wanted was a new dress. My wardrobe at the time—whether it truly was or not—felt old and worn out. I longed for a dress—a Sunday best—fresh, new, and beautiful.

Many years have passed since I was that girl. I live today as a married woman with two dreaming daughters of my own. I’m a different person in many ways and yet there are moments when I still yearn for a dress—not a Sunday best this time, but a new covering for my heart, fresh and clean.

Motherhood is messy work. Whether you labor to push out your child or you labor to push through the tangles of an adoption process, motherhood begins and remains messy. There are nighttime feedings, changings, and sleeplessness with a newborn; there’s potty training and accidents with tantrum-prone toddlers; there are struggles with school-agers who test the boundaries of obedience and independence. These can trigger and expose the yuckiness of a mother’s sinful heart. More often than we care to admit, we meet these challenges with impatience, anger, sharp words, and shortcomings.

I have found that each stage of motherhood brings its own grunge and temptations. My hands are continually filled with the grime of caring intimately for a dependent other. And unfortunately, my heart tends to reveal its own gunk as I do so. I have ended many days feeling worn out and filthy and desperately longing to be washed and clothed anew with a righteousness that’s fresh and clean. Perhaps you’ve been there?

If that’s you, then praise the newborn king with me this Christmas! The baby in the manger was sent to wash and clothe those who sit soiled in the foulness of their own efforts.

In the Christmas hymn “Hark! The Herald Angels Sing,” Charles Wesley calls Jesus the “Sun of Righteousness.” And indeed he is! Christ took the filthiness of our sins upon himself on the cross (becoming our substitute in judgment) and credited his perfect obedience to our account (becoming our substitute in positional righteousness). By faith, we are covered in the pure garments of Christ and are declared righteous in our standing before God. But that’s not all.

We live in a fallen world where those declared righteous by faith in Christ don’t always “feel” righteous. Romans 4:6 tells us that the old body of sin died with Christ so that it might be brought to nothing. We believe this, yet we see sin crouching daily at our doors. We live in the tension of the “already but not yet.” The Kingdom of God has already come, but the consummation (or the full experience of it) is yet to come. So today, we are already declared righteous, yet we sin—we throw angry words at our slow-moving children when pressed for time.  

But here, we can again hail the Sun of Righteousness, for Christ offers not only positional righteousness but also the grace needed to produce actual or practical righteousness. Momma, Jesus covers you in his own clean garment and he also, by his Spirit, empowers you to walk in the cleaness of a new life. Our Emmanuel is our righteousness and our sanctification! In him, those declared righteous are also enabled to walk in true righteousness.

But how?

The Holy Spirit empowers to work out the evidence of your salvation in obedience that pleases God (Phil. 2:12–13). God’s Spirit indwells you at conversion and begins to progressively conform you into the image of Christ. According to Question 35 of the Westminster Shorter Catechism, you are “enabled more and more to die unto sin, and live unto righteousness.” Without the presence of the indwelling Spirit, we could never submit to God in obedience (Rom. 8:7–10). It is the Spirit who enables you to speak words of grace—and not words of impatience—when tempted by slow-moving children this busy holiday season.

Our sanctification is a grace of God, yet he doesn’t work over our heads. We cooperate with the process as we abide in Christian disciplines and the ordinary means of grace (prayer, Scripture, sitting under sound preaching, the Lord’s table, confessing sin, etc.). The Holy Spirit uses these various means to mature the believer toward holiness, with the Word of God being the primary means of his work. As we take in Scripture through study, sermons, teachings, the scriptural encouragement of others, the Spirit enables us to see and understand the truth. He convicts our hearts in the places where it does not align with that truth, and he enables us to repent, turning from sin to obedience.

Sister, we live within the tension of the “already, but not yet.” In Christ, we are already declared righteous, and yet we often “feel” more filthy than right. Hear this good news today: the Spirit-empowered labor of an imperfect mother is never “filthy rags.”

If God looks at you through the unsoiled covering of his Son, then he is pleased to smile on your imperfect yet progressive sanctification. There is a day coming when our longing for perfect cleanness will be realized. We will be fully conformed to the image of the Sun of Righteousness! We will, on that day, receive a garment of white—fresh, new, and beautiful (Rev. 19:8). Until then, let us press on daily in the strength that the Spirit supplies.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What about motherhood is currently making you aware of your shortcomings? Where are you longing for change?

2. The Sun of Righteousness has become our substitute in positional righteousness. Do you believe that you are already declared righteous by faith in Him?

3. Those declared righteous are also enabled to walk in true righteousness. How can you cooperate daily with the Spirit’s ongoing work of sanctification in you?

Nana Dolce lives in Washington, DC with her family. She has a Master of Arts in Theological Studies--which comes in handy as an at-home mom! She teaches God’s word to women and children at her local church and writes for ministries like Christianity Today, Modern Reformation/White Horse Inn, and Risen Motherhood. Find her at motherhoodandsanctity.com.

Our Longing to be Free from Guilt

Do you ever lie in bed thinking about all the things you did wrong throughout the day? Everyone is sleeping quietly, but you are actively reviewing your sins: the times you yelled in anger at your children, the occasions when you let your emotions overpower your self-control, and the points at which you indulged yourself and procrastinated instead of working.

I have been in that place many times, moments in which the light is not only off in the room, but also in my soul. My sins are before me, and I feel overwhelmed by guilt. It is like I am drowning in a sea of "if only"s—if only I had treated the children in a better way; if only I were more godly; if only I were more intentional in disciplining; if only I would get up earlier; if only I were more diligent; if only I were better.…

Have you ever felt that way? Have you felt so guilty that you run out of hope? Deep down you feel that God is disappointed in you, and you know that no matter how hard you try you can’t meet the standard. You want to be a good mother, but your sin is always before you.

This struggle with guilt is not exclusive to mothers; it is the reality of the redeemed heart that yearns to please God but finds itself in the horrible tension that sin produces. One of those dark nights, I found hope in this confession of the apostle Paul.

“So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death?” (Romans 7:21–24)

My soul fights that same battle. Wretched woman that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Who can save me from the guilt that plagues my joy? Where will I find the hope I need to continue serving God? Paul points us to the solution for our conflict:

“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” (Rom. 7:25a)

The solution to the problem of guilt is found in the placement of our hope. If we look to ourselves, we will only find frustration and helplessness. But if we look to Christ and consider his work in our place, we will find hope. The hope we need is found in Christ! His perfect work in our place took us from death to life and changed our eternal destiny, but we cannot forget that he also saved us from the fatigue of trying to meet God's standard every day. He freed us from the danger of trying to be our own functional saviors and of presenting “works of righteousness” that are worthy of God's favor.

Jesus was the only one who met God's standard of justice. Being righteous, he took the place of the unrighteous. He took our guilt and gave us his perfect justice. What a glorious exchange! Even though we are guilty before a holy God because of sin, in Christ we can declare, “Jesus is my righteousness.” By grace through faith, God then views us as righteous. We are no longer guilty.

So when guilt wants to seize my hope as I lay my head on the pillow at night, I can declare with Paul: “There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Rom. 8:1).

I am free from the trap of performance. I am free from the deceit of comparison. I am free from the pitfall of people’s approval. I am free from guilt! And if I sin, I am free to run to God when I experience conviction, knowing that I have an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous (1 John 2:1). I am free to celebrate that God’s wrath is not upon my shoulders because my Savior bore it on the cross.

I am free to celebrate that Christ is my righteousness, and there is no condemnation for me. That is the present that the gospel invites me to open every day, and the tag says, “Guilt no longer defines who you are; the work of Christ on your behalf does.” Jesus is your righteousness! May that be your hope!

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What is your typical reaction in this type of scenario when guilt invades your heart? Do you try to find hope by looking to yourself or Jesus?

2. What is the difference between guilt and conviction? When you sin, do you feel incapable of presenting yourself before God or do you run to God’s throne trusting that He sees you with the righteousness of Christ?

3. The next time you feel robbed of your hope by guilt, how can you respond with the word of God? What would this look like practically?

Betsy Gomez has a passion to help others savor the gospel. She manages the blogs and supervises media for Aviva Nuestros Corazones (Revive Our Hearts Hispanic outreach). She is (slowly) pursuing a master’s degree in Ministry to Women at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary. Betsy, her husband, Moisés, and their two sons, Josué and Samuel are soon transitioning to Irving, Texas; where Moises will serve as a Pastor. She blogs regularly for Aviva Nuestros Corazones, and her personal blog.

Our Longing for a Role and a Purpose

Oh no. Here it comes again.  

My husband introduces himself and talks about his work. He politely introduces me. Then the question: “And do you work, too?”  

My mumbled answer: “Stepped back from my career during this season … loving being a mom … thinking about some part-time opportunities.…”

“Oh, so you stay at home with the kids?”

And there it is. The implied “just.” Just! You’re just home with the kids.

I want to get in this person’s face. I want to give my speech (well-rehearsed in my own mind) about the beauty of motherhood. The eternal significance of my calling during this season. The gravity of this calling, which places me in the most strategic, daily position of shaping young minds and hearts to worship and love the Savior. And, by the way, I’m keeping small children alive each day!

But I don’t give the speech—of course. And the reality is, I don’t always believe my own speech. Or, at least, I don’t feel it. There’s another unsatisfying night of sleep. Another bout with flu. Another doctor visit. Another diaper. And the kitchen is dirty again. And … laundry. So. Much. Laundry.

Longing. We long for a sense of purpose. An eternally significant role to play. We wonder, “Do I have meaningful work in front of me?”

Some might say “no.” Sometimes you feel the “no.” But God says—definitively—“Yes!”

“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them” (Ephesians 2:10).

And so, here is a word for you from me (a mom of four young ones). When those longings come—longings for a role, a purpose, real work—here’s where you need to start: We are the work of the God of the universe.

Don’t miss this. An understanding of the significance of our work begins with an understanding of our significance as the work of Jesus Christ our Savior. “We are his workmanship.” That’s what the verse says. Created by the Almighty Father. Redeemed by the Glorious Son. Sustained by the Gracious Spirit. We are God’s work. Sister, Jesus bled and died—and rose!—to make you his masterpiece. God was up to this plan long before time began. However often you need to remind yourself of this beautiful reality, do it. You are God’s workmanship. Created, planned, loved, redeemed, forgiven, welcomed, accepted, cherished. The workmanship of the loving and gracious Father of all.

Then, only then, comes our work. And our work becomes wonderfully meaningful as we discover that our work is meant to reflect the master Worker.

God, our Savior, prepared these “good works” beforehand for us to walk in. This is huge. It means the good that is in front of you today, whatever it may be, was planned for you by the God who has made you his workmanship in Christ Jesus. The good that you know you must do today was planned for you by your Savior.

Now, notice with me, Ephesians 2:10 doesn’t say “big work.” Or “paid work.” Or “full-time work.” It says “good work.” Let me break this down:

The 5th dirty diaper for you to lovingly change, smiling back at the cooing baby face gazing up at you … is prepared beforehand for you by God.

The gospel-shaped discipline that you are forced to provide to your six-year-old, with the prayerfully formed right balance of toughness and grace … is prepared beforehand for you by God.

The load of your husband’s laundry that you are preparing to wash (and by the way, didn’t you ask him to stop wearing that one shirt that doesn’t fit him right?) … is prepared beforehand for you by God.

The part-time work that you juggle on the side to make a little extra money for your family (in all your spare time, with all your extra bandwidth) … is prepared beforehand for you by God.

The discipline of showing up on Sunday morning to church with the goal of encouraging someone else in the congregation … is prepared beforehand for you by God.

And dear sister, you get to tackle that (difficult, exhausting) work as one who has been declared to be, in Christ, the “workmanship” of God.

What is my role? What is my identity? I am, by the grace of Jesus, the workmanship of the eternal God. This is a God who, at the very first Christmas, came near to a broken world to make broken people his masterpieces.

What is my purpose? What is my work? I will, by the grace of Jesus, throw myself into the work in front of me, which has been prepared beforehand by my loving Lord. My work must be shaped by the beautiful, Christmas love of a Savior who had cosmically significant work before him, but who didn’t despise a smelly manger as his nursery.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What is it that most often drives you toward feelings of insecurity, insignificance, or despair? How do you push back with God’s truth when those feelings come?

2. Why, as followers of Jesus, must we first remember who we are in Christ, before we seek to think rightly about what we do for Christ? What problems can we avoid when we do this?

Jeanne Nielson is wife to Jon, who serves as Senior Pastor of Spring Valley Presbyterian Church (PCA) in Roselle, IL. They have 4 daughters, ages 1 to 8, and love the fun and energy-filled season of life they’re in. When Jeanne isn’t busy doing “mom stuff,” she’s a trainer at OrangeTheory Fitness, involved in Women’s Bible study, and is working on her sanctification as she coaches her daughter’s traveling soccer team (!).

Our Longing for Self-Actualization

Dust may be gathering on your hard-earned degree. Your gifts and passions may seem to grow rusty while you leave them largely unattended for a season to care for little ones in their most significant years.

Self-Actualization

The world, with its agenda of self-actualization, shouts loudly that you are wasting your time, your gifts, your passions—and often your flesh hums in agreement.

Self-actualization began as a psychological term employed by many with a fluid definition, but it reached its place of prominence in the world of psychology in Abraham Maslow’s “hierarchy of needs.” However, like many words coined in a clinical or academic setting, its accompanying concept bled over into popular cultural and thinking. As such, self-actualization (also called self-realization) has taken on a popular meaning and a life all its own. While memes and t-shirt graphics shower a variety of messages like “Carpe Diem,” “Chase your Dreams,” and “You do you!” most share the same underlying principle: the goal of life is for you to realize your greatest potential by using all your gifts and fulfilling all your deepest desires.

While the message of self-actualization goes down smoothly, it does not mix well with the gospel. In fact, this predominant cultural message is completely antithetical to the gospel of Christ.

Self-Emptying

In the incarnation of Christ, the unlimited, uncreated Son of God submitted to the shocking plan of the Father he loved. In his years as an apprentice to his carpenter foster father, Christ emptied himself, as the hands that wove the wonders of the galaxy learned to sand and saw. Then, on the cross, Christ poured out his rightful reward and took the wrath of our just punishment on himself. Paul beautifully captures Christ’s emptying of himself in his letter to the Philippians:

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.” (Philippians 2:5–8)

In the gospel, we not only benefit from the self-emptying of Christ, but we are beckoned to imitate him by emptying ourselves.

The path of self-emptying as a mother looks like foolishness to the world and to our own flesh; however, that same path is the one trodden by the feet of God himself. When we empty ourselves daily for the sake of obedience to the will of our Father, we too receive his son, our Savior, and share in his likeness.

A Moving Act of Self-Emptying

A few nights before his impending death, Christ was taking refuge in the home of his dear friends in Bethany. Mary, seeming to know what was coming, decided to break her alabaster jar of perfume to anoint Jesus’ body for the coming sacrifice. Worth more than a year’s wages, this jar was her costly gift and outpouring of love to her Jesus.

The disciples and gathered friends scoffed at her choice, calling it a waste. There were so many other ways she could have spent her life savings, her choicest gift. Yet Christ saw what they could not. He saw her devoted love and adoration in what they considered a waste. Rather than chide her, Christ applauded her, saying, “Leave her alone. Why do you trouble her? She has done a beautiful thing to me” (Mark 14:6).

Throughout the sometimes short, sometimes terribly long moments and years of mothering our little children, I found myself making my own alabaster jar. Every time I felt a wave of sadness over gifts that were sitting quietly on the shelf or desires going unmet, I would mentally place them into my own imaginary alabaster jar. Rather than see these years as the waste that the world might call them, I began to see these years as a chance to pour out an expensive gift to Jesus. He continues to receive my costly outpourings as beautiful acts of adoration and obedience to him.

Rather than viewing our self-emptying as a waste, Christ invites us to view our self-emptying choices as alabaster moments poured out for our worthy Christ. One day, we will receive the proud commendation of our Beloved saying, “She has done a beautiful thing.”

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. Where do you hear hints of self-actualization around you and within you?

2. In what specific areas in your life are you tempted to actualize yourself rather than follow Christ’s pattern of emptying yourself?

3. What are you currently putting into your alabaster jar?

4. How does it change your perspective to know that Christ proudly receives what the world may deem a waste?

Aimee Joseph works alongside her husband, G’Joe, who directs Campus Outreach San Diego, She also serves as the women’s ministry director at Redeemer Presbyterian Church in Encinitas, California. Parenting three boys keeps her busy, but writing and studying the Word of God keep her sane. She has a passion to see women trained to love God, His Word and His people. She writes regularly at aimeejoseph.blog. 

Our Longing for Justice

The term “mama bear” ain’t for nothing. Motherhood evokes in us a deep tenderness toward human life and an accompanying outrage at anything that dares push against that preciousness.

When I found out my that my niece came home crying because other little girls were making fun of her brown skin, I wanted to buy the first ticket to Chicago to strongly confront (I’m using kinder words than my original thoughts) those children and their parents. Now I have my own little daughter who will face situations like this, and the thought of that often threatens my peace.

From another child’s bite mark on our child’s arm, to genocide, injustice rattles us. And it should. Our indignation at injustice actually says something about the God in whose image we are made. The God who compared himself to “a bear robbed of her cubs” to illustrate his coming judgment of sin (Hos. 13:8).

God’s Heart for Justice

Throughout the pages of the Bible, God is constantly drawing near to the brokenhearted, the disenfranchised, and the forgotten. From the very first murder (Gen. 4) to the ruthless enslavement of Israel (Ex. 1–3) to Israel’s neglect of the poor, orphans, widows, and immigrants (Isa. 58; Mal. 3:5), God has never been apathetic toward injustice. Indeed, “righteousness and justice are the foundation of his throne” (Ps. 97:2).

God has always moved toward mending what’s broken in our world because of sin (Gen. 3:15). He was so concerned about the damage of sin on our souls, bodies, and world that he sent his own Son to “save his people from their sins” (Matt. 1:21). He had planned it before the beginning of time (Eph. 1:4; Acts 4:28). He promised it for centuries (Gen. 12:3; Deut. 18:15; 2 Sam. 7:16; Isa. 53; Dan. 7:13–14). At just the right time, he sent his beloved Son Jesus to right every wrong (Luke 4:16–21; 2 Cor. 5:19; Gal. 4:4–5).

Jesus’ Ministry

Fueled by compassion, Jesus touched the unclean, healed the diseased, and liberated the demon-possessed. He told people about God’s kingdom—a place where children are valued, women are safe, and the poor are no longer oppressed.

But Jesus’ ministry in the margins of Israel was not well-received by many. Some didn’t understand why he didn’t just usher in God’s kingdom through political power. Some didn’t like how he confronted the self-righteous hypocrisy of the religious elite. Some especially didn’t like it when Jesus called God his Father, “making himself equal with God” (John 5:18).

Jesus’ Authority to Give Life

Instead of denying this claim, Jesus responded with a discourse about the unique relationship between God the Father and himself—God the Son (John 5:19–47). In that discourse, Jesus promised something incredible: “Truly, truly, I say to you, an hour is coming, and is now here, when the dead will hear the voice of the Son of God, and those who hear will live. For as the Father has life in himself, so he has granted the Son also to have life in himself” (vs. 25–26).

Did you know that you were born spiritually dead (Eph. 2:1)? If we are honest with ourselves, we know we’ve contributed to the injustice of this world. We’ve lied, we’ve cheated, and we’ve hated. Our sins have earned us God’s just judgement—an eternity apart from the goodness of God’s presence (Rom. 6:23).

But God sent his Son Jesus to this world to rescue us. Jesus, the only sinless person in history, exchanged his perfect record for our sin (2 Cor. 5:21). God is just. He didn’t simply sweep our sin under the rug. He condemned our sin when he crushed his own Son who bore our sin on the cross (Rom. 8:3; 1 Pet. 2:24). Jesus’ resurrection was like a receipt that confirmed he really did pay for our sins (1 Pet. 3:18).

In exchange for our death, Jesus offers us true life—a never-ending, loving relationship with God (John 17:3). We receive that life when we place our full trust in Jesus (John 20:30–31).

Jesus’ Authority to Judge

Then Jesus spoke another amazing truth: “[God] has given him authority to execute judgment, because he is the Son of Man.... An hour is coming when all who are in the tombs will hear his voice and come out, those who have done good to the resurrection of life, and those who have done evil to the resurrection of judgment” (John 5:27–29).

Jesus will judge every single human being. Those who have truly trusted in him have already had their sins paid for through his crucifixion. Those who refuse to trust in Jesus will have to pay for their own sins. Have you trusted in Jesus? Does your life reflect it? If not, trust him today. He is ready to cleanse you and help you live a life that pleases him.

Longing for Justice

It can feel terrifying to send our kids out into such a cruel world. But the coming of Jesus Christ, who has been given the right to judge by his Father, ensures us that all will be made right.

When he came the first time, Jesus dealt with our sin by sacrificially laying his life down. When he comes again, he will deal a deadly blow to all evil. All who trust in Jesus will live on the New Earth, where “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore” (Rev. 21:4).

Grace will win. Righteousness will reign. All because of Jesus. In this hope mama bears like us can truly rest.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. When’s the last time you felt a burning desire for justice in your experience of motherhood or otherwise?

2. How does the coming of Christ relieve you of the desire to “punish” or “exact justice” and free you to love your neighbor?

3. How does the promise of Christ’s return and impending judgement relieve some of the burden you feel over the state of the world?

4. How can you practically live and move as his agent within a world so full of injustice (see Isaiah 1:17 for help)

Quina Aragon is a writer, editor, and spoken word artist. Her articles, poems, interviews, and spoken word videos have been featured on The Gospel Coalition, Risen Motherhood, Journey Women, The Witness: BCC, Full of Eyes, Wade O Radio, Rapzilla, and Designed Marriage. She resides in Tampa, FL with her husband Jon and beautiful, two-year-old daughter. They are members of Living Faith Bible Fellowship where they serve as leaders of the small group ministry. Quina’s first children’s book, Love Made, releases February 5th with Harvest House. Boys and girls will learn about God as the Trinity, the Creator, and about how they are made in His image. Click here to pre-order the book. You can see more from Quina at quinaaragon.com.

Our Longing for Truth and Answers

The year following the birth of my first son was a bit of a blur. Four months into motherhood, I found myself beyond “newborn tired” and unable to muster up the energy to get off the couch some days. Sicknesses kept pervading my body, and good health seemed like a far-off dream. I thought to myself, Is this really what happens to women after they have children? My exhaustion seemed even beyond the norm, so I sought medical help to get to the root of the problem.

After months of sickness and questions, blood work revealed my thyroid was no longer working properly. Instead, it was barely functioning, causing me to have little to no extra energy, accompanied by a weak immune system susceptible to illness. When I first received the phone call from the doctor telling me I had a thyroid disease, relief flooded my heart. There was something wrong. However, the relief was quickly countered by fear, anxiety, and even more questions.

“Why God? Why would the blessing of having a child cause me to suffer physically? Why would you allow me to have a condition I will be aware of for the rest of my life?”

“Why” gripped my heart, shaking the foundations of my faith, and causing me to question what I already knew about God in the Word.

This question isn’t unique to my own wrestling of faith. In fact, all throughout Scripture, the people of God asked this very same question when their circumstances turned sour and God’s providence tasted bitter. In the Old Testament, the Israelites questioned God’s love and provision while on their 40-year journey in the wilderness. They had experienced the miraculous salvation of the Lord, but found themselves in another situation they would not have chosen.

Why?

In spite of the Israelites’ wandering and waywardness, God’s judgment and grace were woven into their story. Though they doubted and questioned His goodness at times, God faithfully drew them back to his heart and purpose. In Deuteronomy 29, Moses spoke to the Israelites, recounting God’s deliverance and reestablishing the covenant God had made to his people nearly 40 years prior (Deut. 29:12–13).

And yet, even as Moses reminded them of the Lord’s covenant, he also revealed to them, “But to this day the LORD has not given you a heart to understand or eyes to see or ears to hear” (Deut. 29:4). The Israelites weren’t given full understanding as to the “why” of their circumstances. However, they were given the “Who.” They were reminded of who God is over and over again. It was upon God’s faithful character they were to build their lives.

In Deuteronomy 29:29, Moses explained, “The secret things belong to the LORD our God, but the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children forever, that we may do all the words of this law.” The secret things—the things we do not yet know or understand, the hard questions that often fill our minds—are not ours to know. Instead, as believers, we have been given more than enough in the Word upon which we can build our faith. This truth, unlike the words of man, is unshakable, a foundation that cannot be cracked, broken, or shaken. The answer to “why” is trusting the “Who.”

When faith-shaking questions crash in on us, causing us to question and doubt, God calls us to go back to what we know in the Word. He has revealed to us tenants of truth that withstand any storm. Just as the Israelites did not fully understand their circumstances, we too will not understand the “why” to everything that happens to us. However, when we flip “why” to “Who,” the earthquake of our soul stills.

What the Israelites did not fully understand in their oppression, deliverance, and wandering, was that God was working out his plan of redemption with their every step. Their deliverance from the Egyptians was a foreshadowing of a larger deliverance that would happen through Jesus Christ—a deliverance of our souls from the slavery of sin and destruction of death. Ultimately, this was God’s end goal, his “why.”

Through the Israelites’ history leading up to Jesus’ birth, life, and death on the cross, we too can see God’s “why” and learn to trust his heart even when unanswerable questions grip our souls. The sufferings we experience in this life reveal to us God’s mysterious glory and redemption. When we can’t understand God’s ways, we can always trust his heart.

This side of the cross, we trust God with the “secret things” we have yet to understand, and build our life’s foundation on the truths revealed to us in Scripture. The “gaps” that have been laid out in the Word aren’t ours to reveal, but what has been given is more than enough to sustain us in this life, through every stormy trial and faith-shaking question of the soul.

It’s true that motherhood and life will cause our faith to shake and tremble at times. There will be seasons of the soul when what we know seems to crumble to the ground. However, these circumstances are always surrounded by the tenants of God’s Word that hold us fast. We look to Jesus, the fulfillment of God’s promises, and to his birth with expectation and wonder. He is the culmination of the answers we search for, the truth we cling to in hard times. This Christmas, bring your “why” questions to Jesus, and celebrate Who he is. Lay down what troubles your soul and receive his grace. Let your longing for the truth lead you to the everlasting arms of your Father and your Savior, Jesus Christ.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What in your life has caused you to ask “why?” What “secret things” are you currently wrestling with?

2. How does the story of the bible help us to learn to trust God’s heart even when unanswerable questions grip our souls?

3. How can you apply what you know to be true of God to your current “whys?”

Gretchen Saffles is passionate about equipping women to dig into the Word of God and find their identity and purpose in Christ. She is the founder of Well-Watered Women, an online women’s ministry that reaches worldwide. She has written several Bible studies including Redefined: Identity in Christ and Proverbs 31: Women of Dignity, Washed in Grace. She is also the creator of the “Give Me Jesus” quiet time journal for women. Through Well-Watered Women she longs to meet women right where they are with the hope of the gospel and ignite a desire in their hearts to know Jesus more. On any given day you can find her with a coffee cup in hand, a baby on her hip, a  toddler by her side, a message stirring in her soul, and a God-sized dream on her heart. Gretchen lives in Atlanta, Georgia with her husband, Greg, and her two sons, Nolan and Haddon.

Our Longing to Belong

Growing up, my mom and dad had a favorite saying: “Remember who you are!” They said it each day we left for school, when we went to a friend’s house, or when I complained in aisle five that they wouldn’t buy me fudge cookies. It was a loaded phrase that came with layers of meaning: I had family who loved me, forgiveness would always be found, and no matter what, we would always be there for one another.

Because my family was so tight-knit, I always believed blood was thicker than water. But then my husband’s job moved us and our three kids to Chicago, five hours from any family or friends. It was the first time in more than 25 years I had been away from their support. With a husband who worked as long as the sun was up, I was lonelier than ever, and I mourned the loss of my family the most.

But God was teaching me to look further than bloodlines for my family. By his grace, a few months after moving to Chicago, we found a church and immediately found a home. The people there didn’t care what my last name was, how I dressed or talked, or what my résumé looked like. They loved me and cared for me, just like I was their family. It didn’t matter our history or that they only just met us; they saw me as a sister—the water of the Spirit, thicker than the blood of biology.

While my blood family taught me I always had a home with them, Chicago taught me that “home” is much bigger than people living under the same roof. Being displaced from everything and everyone I’d ever known taught me there is a deeper, more wonderful family that Christ has provided for me—no matter where I live—through the local church.  

I don’t know what kind of family you grew up with. Maybe it sounds a little like mine, or maybe the word “family” only brings up feelings of pain and brokenness. Either way, all our earthly families fail us to some degree. And while the local church is still imperfect on this side of glory, God has designed it to be where we find our truest and closest family. Through Christ’s death and resurrection, he made us “a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession” (1 Pet. 2:9). No matter the status or location of our earthly family, Christ gave us a place to belong today—among people who are our eternal brothers and sisters.

Because of the gospel, this family looks different from any earthly family in existence. Each gifted in different ways, God’s family is from “every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages” (Rev. 7:9). It is not bonded not by biological bloodlines, but by the shed blood of Christ. His blood buys our entrance into our true family.  

Through the power of the Holy Spirit, God’s family members can strive to love and serve each other unconditionally, spur one another on to love and good deeds, and encourage each other to not grow weary in the faith. Because of Christ’s sacrifice, a local body of believers gives a home and a family to the lonely, misplaced, broken, lost, and abandoned. No matter your last name, family history, or DNA—take heart. If you trust in Jesus, you have a place to belong, not because you grew up with certain people, but because you share in the gospel with fellow believers.

No matter how lonely you feel today, remember: You are not forgotten or overlooked, my sister. You are unbreakably, eternally part of God’s family.

“Remember who you are.” I like this saying. While my parents don’t say it to me very often anymore, I still find myself repeating it. To my kids. To myself. It reminds me even in the midst of overwhelming seasons of loneliness that God has made a way for me to never have to be truly alone, today or in eternity. While I am blessed to have a wonderful earthly father, I long for the day when I will meet my true Father face to face. I don’t know how it will go, but I imagine my face will hit the earth, so blinded will I be by his wondrous glory. But when I finally get up the courage to look to my right or to my left, I imagine it will be a great joy to catch a glimpse of my brothers and sisters all doing the same, as a family forever.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. When we feel lonely, we often struggle to remember who we are in Christ. In what ways does knowing God as your Father and how he provides a family for you in the local church bring you comfort?

2. Our family history shapes much of our views about our church family. When reflecting on your earthly family, in what ways is it similar to how God has designed the church body? In what ways is it different?

3. Christ’s sacrifice has created a place for us to belong. Have you found a home with a local gathering of believers? If you have, how can you invest more deeply, knowing they are your family for eternity?

is the co-founder of Risen Motherhood and currently serves as the Executive Director and the co-host of the weekly podcast. Laura, her husband, and her three children reside in central Iowa.

Our Longing for Contentment in All Circumstances

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content. I know how to be brought low, and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” (Philippians 4:11–13)

When we stepped into entrepreneur life, I had a sense of excitement about what God could do as my husband acted in faith and started his own company. We were trusting the Lord to be our provider, and believing that God wouldn’t waste the gifting he’d given my husband. But ten months in, I found that I was often tempted to add a generous helping of despair to our daily mix of responsibilities, tasks, and bills.

I wasn’t longing for things. I could look around my house and at my children, and quickly recognize God’s abundant blessings poured out on our family. I dreamed of a change in my circumstances, and this wasn’t the first time I’d wrestled with this temptation. If only we could get a breakthrough; if only we had close family relationships nearby; if only the weight of loss and loneliness weren’t so intense; if only…

The things I longed for weren’t wrong, and the things I struggled with were challenging and difficult. I knew by this point, though, that allowing myself to spiral into a pattern of grumbling and discontentment would lead me to tell myself lies about God’s character and his loving care and nearness in our circumstances.

It’s easy to believe that ideal circumstances are the key to a good life. We’re constantly tempted by the idea that if life were easier, we wouldn’t ever ride an emotional roller coaster or struggle to keep our head above water.

As mothers, we long for healthy families, obedient children, faithful churches, and good community influences on our kids. These types of stability and security are good things to long for, but if our longings aren’t met, we may feel forgotten by God or that something is standing between us and the life we desire.

When we gauge God’s love and care for us by our circumstances and the ways that he has met or favorably answered our longings, we miss who Jesus is and how his coming changes everything. Jesus came, lived, drew near, suffered, and died for us so that we might be reconciled to God, and conformed to his image.

In Philippians 4, Paul tells believers about his experience learning contentment, but he does so in a way that illustrates how we may imitate Christ. Jesus, the King of the universe, emptied himself and was brought low in order to be born in our likeness. We can look through every gospel account and see that he suffered temptation and experienced trials, including hunger, but he did this with confidence in his Father. Hebrews 2 tells us that Jesus bore the righteous judgement we deserved for our sins, and suffered perfectly on our behalf, so that he could help us in our temptation.

“Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.… For I, the Lord your God, hold your right hand; it is I who say to you, ‘Fear not, I am the one who helps you.’”  (Isaiah 41:10, 13)

Jesus is Immanuel, God with us. He promises to be near, to hold our right hand, to help and strengthen us. God with us declares that he himself will uphold us, and there is no need for us to be fearful or dismayed over our circumstances.

“Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, ‘Lord, save me.’ Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, ‘O you of little faith, why did you doubt?’” (Matthew 14:29–31)

In response to our fear and little faith, Jesus speaks tenderly to us: “Why did you doubt?” When we are blinded by the storm, when we can only see suffering, obstacles, and impossible circumstances ahead of us, Jesus is immediately near, taking hold of us as we cry out, “Lord, save me!” He upholds us, saving us from sinking with his righteous right hand.

This righteous right hand of God came tiny and frail, humble and helpless. This hand drew near to touch the ones who could not enter his presence. This hand carried our justice on his own shoulders to Calvary. This righteous right hand faced the ultimate suffering, was pierced for our transgressions, rose victorious, and rules both the world around us and the details of our personal circumstances.

This righteous right hand daily draws you nearer and presses you further into the image of Christ Jesus, so that through every circumstance of your life, you will look more and more like the Savior who upholds you.

His love for us is not measured by fulfilled dreams or expectations, but by his own pierced hands that sustain us, strengthening us to “do all things,” and to face every situation with confidence and contentment.

Someday we will not grieve imperfect circumstances. Someday every if only will be fully answered in Jesus. We will know Immanuel face-to-face, when God makes his permanent dwelling place with us (Rev. 21:2–4) . We will see his righteous right hand and it will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. Have you been repeating an “if only” statement to yourself? Have you been gauging God’s care for you based on the ways your longings have been met? 

2. How does dwelling on Jesus’ coming and his promise to uphold you change how you think about your situation? 

3. Spend some time praying, asking God to open your eyes to the ways his righteous right hand has been holding you up and strengthening you to face your circumstances with contentment.

Bethany Barendregt is wife to Alex and mama to Jordan, Jackson, Samuel, Elliana, and Audrey. They live in Alberta, Canada where Bethany homeschools and works from home as founder and creative director at Women Encouraged. She is passionate about Bible literacy and loves writing to share Scripture truth and gospel hope for our everyday life challenges. Bethany is deeply grateful for the opportunities God has provided in her life to welcome friends and share gospel-centered fellowship. You can connect with her at her blog or on Instagram @bethanybarendregt.

Our Longing for Friendship

“So between the death of Christ and the Last Day it is only by a gracious anticipation of the last things that Christians are privileged to live in visible fellowship with other Christians.” —Dietrich Bonhoeffer

As a young mother, I felt incredibly lonely, and I couldn’t pinpoint exactly why. I was at home with my boys, which accounted for some of my loneliness—but there were people all around me, including the very children and husband I’d at one time longed and prayed for, the church people I loved, the women I served alongside, and the friends I could call for playdates.

As I got older, I realized it hadn’t been loneliness I’d felt; it was longing. I knew this because the feeling has never left me. I still long for friendships in which I won’t hurt or be hurt by others. I long to fully understand my friends, just as I long for them to fully understand me. I want to love and be loved perfectly, and as I’ve expected to find this in my relationships, I’ve been continually disappointed in myself and in my real-life relationships.

I now know that longing attaches itself to even the best and most intimate relationships, because the closer we walk with people, the more clearly we see that no relationship we’re in will ever be perfect. We can know be known by others only partially. Longing is the desire we feel for this imperfection to be made right. This is in fact an innate, God-implanted longing, because we were created for Eden, but we currently live in Babylon. Loneliness teaches us this isn’t how it’s supposed to be and begs us to search for where our longings are finally fulfilled.

Babylon, with all its crushing imperfections, is passing away, and a baby’s birth announcement many years ago tells us so. This baby—Jesus—grew into a man who proclaimed a coming Edenic kingdom, inviting all who would come through him.

This man knows many things we never will. He knew total isolation, left and betrayed by his closest friends. He knew what it meant to watch God turn his back in wrath. He knew what it meant to serve those who don’t recognize the depth of service and who reject it outright. There is no one who has ever been or will ever be this lonely, and he entered loneliness so we might have God’s friendship without end.

Even better, he knows us fully. The Apostle Paul describes our longing well when he speaks of love: “Now I know in part; then I shall know fully.” Now, in Babylon, we know love in part. Then, in a restored Eden, we will know God’s love fully as, Paul continues, “even as I have been fully known” (1 Cor. 13:12). In other words, in our loneliness and in our longing, we are right now fully known by God. He sees us and knows every inch of our hearts. We’re never truly alone.

Perhaps I try to avoid the sense of longing that’s attached to my friendships because I so often associate longing with lack. But longing becomes a gift when we look toward the perfection to which it points and recognize how we’re both known and loved perfectly by Jesus. Our specific longings, then, cause us to look toward Jesus and find their fulfillment ultimately in him. Loneliness teaches us to abide in his love, trusting he knows and loves us fully even though we can only grasp it partially. It also teaches us not to mold other people into idols, pressing them to love us as only Jesus can.

Instead, we learn to love others as Jesus loved us. His love, when received and kept as our ultimate love, begins to drive us:

“For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.” (2 Corinthians 5:14–15 NIV)

When we abide in the companionship of Jesus, we are compelled to bring others into the undying nature of God’s love. In other words, we can act on our longings in our everyday relationships, loving them in honor and imitation of Jesus and how he loves us. We enter into a mutual love relationship with Jesus when we love and serve others. Jesus said love looks like laying down our lives for our friends, just as he did. To love others is to lay down what we want out of a friendship and instead seek that very thing for the other person. When we do this, we proclaim the coming kingdom that was proclaimed to us at Jesus’ birth announcement: what we long for will one day be!

And loneliness will forever go the way of Babylon.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. What currently are your greatest longings in relationships? How did Jesus experience the same kind of hurt or lack that’s led to your longing? How did he respond and how can you imitate him in his response?

2. Are you feeling lonely? If so, take your loneliness to God. Ask him to help you know his presence and his help in your daily life.

3. How has God loved you? Where is he compelling you today to love and someone else in honor of him?

Christine Hoover is a pastor's wife, mom of three boys, host of the "By Faith" podcast, and author of several books, including Messy Beautiful Friendship and Searching for Spring: How God Makes All Things Beautiful in Time. Originally from Texas, she and her family live in Charlottesville, Virginia, where they planted a church in 2008. Find Christine at her home online, Grace Covers Me.

Our Longing for Significance and Worth

“But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God….” (Ephesians 2:4–9)

A few months ago I chatted with a friend about identity crisis. She told me that she felt she had lost herself in motherhood. Amidst all the diapers, tantrums, and constant supervision of little mess-makers, she couldn’t remember who she was. As I listened to her words, I reflected on similar seasons. It’s easy to feel like we're suffocating under the weight of all the demands and duties entrusted to us. We may not have time for a lot of the things we used to, and our hopes, dreams, and desires may be shelved for a season or two (or three). Our many thankless tasks may cause us to feel worthless and purposeless.

And so, maybe we start a side business or volunteer for a non-profit in attempt to inject some sort of worth or purpose into our existence. Or maybe we turn to our social media following for affirming words and likes. But what do titles, achievement, performance, relationships, economic status, and the like all have in common? While these things are not bad in and of themselves, they are no lasting solution to our feelings of insignificance. If we set our anchor on any of these things, what happens when that job, title, or following disappears? Everything we built our lives upon is now gone.

What if I told you that the key to satisfying our longing for purpose, worth, and significance begins with the recognition of our own unworthiness? Ephesians 2:4–9 bluntly tells us that we were dead in our trespasses. Romans 5:8 tells us that “while were still sinners, Christ died for us.” We were born sinful (Ps. 55:1) and the wages of sin is death or eternal damnation (Rom. 6:23). If God is the judge, we stand before him guilty. We are unworthy because we have nothing to offer him to appease his sentence on our lives.

But here is the miracle: God in his kindness, mercy, and love gave us Jesus Christ! John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life.” 1 John 1:9 says, “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” This is life-changing news; this is the gospel! He makes us worthy.

As we near the Christmas holiday and reflect on the birth of Jesus Christ, may we posture our hearts in a spirit of gratitude knowing that the result of God sending His Son to live, die, and rise again is that the Christian is made alive! Because of Christ’s imputed righteousness to us God can look at the man or woman who once stood sinful, stained, and unworthy and deem them forgiven, washed clean, and worthy.

My response to my mama friend was to not grow weary in doing good (Gal. 6:9). Though at times it may feel like the unseen aspects of our lives are menial, because of Christ and the good news of the gospel we have purpose and value and worth in serving the little ones he has entrusted to us. Though the days may feel long, they are not wasted.

You have worth because, by grace through faith, he gives you his worthiness.

You have significance because he died for you so you might live for him.

May we not trade the immeasurable value of this good news for temporary, earthly statuses that have no ability to give true joy. May we anchor ourselves to the One who gave himself up to a people undeserving, and may we find our supreme worth in Jesus alone.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/APPLICATION:

1. Do you relate to the woman in this conversation? In what ways do you wrestle with feelings of insignificance and worthlessness?

2. Where do you usually turn when you feel this way? How have you tried to combat those feelings with lesser hopes than Christ?

3. How is the message of the gospel at odds with the messages moms often receive (“You are worthy!” “You are enough!”)? In what way does embracing our worthlessness before God actually lead to feelings of worth and purpose?

4. Spend some time in prayer asking God to root your sense of identity and purpose in the coming of Christ and all that he has accomplished on your behalf.

Dianne Jago is a military wife and homeschooling mama of three living in Central Pennsylvania. She and her husband started Deeply Rooted Magazine to encourage, equip, and inspire women as they glorify God in womanhood. Dianne is currently writing her first book which debuts in March of 2020. Follow along her journey at instagram.com/aholypursuit and deeplyrootedmag.com. 

Our Longing to Be Loved, Accepted, and Delighted In

“The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing.” (Zephaniah 3:17) 

I was dreading Christmas.

I had no idea how we would celebrate. My husband had left our family months earlier and my daughters, ages 10 and 13, were struggling to make sense of it all. Trying to hold our lives together, reassuring them (and myself) that we’d be fine, felt hollow. How could we be? It was hard to imagine celebrating Christmas. It was hard to imagine celebrating anything. Christmas was going to be something to get through and endure, certainly not a time to rejoice.

Our once-close family seemed awkward and cold. Each of us lived in our own silos—touching each other seemed risky. I kept trying to reach out to my daughters, but they were usually hostile or silent in response. I wanted to be sympathetic, to understand, to love them as Christ loves us, but there were many days I was angry more than sympathetic. I wanted to be understood more than to understand; I wanted to be appreciated more than to be loving.

Just the prior year, when my husband and I parented together, our daughters’ criticism rarely bothered me. But now, with no one else to affirm me, the girls’ disapproval cut deeply.

God was convicting me that I needed to rest in Christ and find my strength in him, but it seemed so theoretical. I needed something tangible. I was lonely and longed for affirmation. So I cried out to God to make his presence and his love real. I didn’t want to be dependent on others for my sense of worth.

I opened the Bible one Advent morning to Isaiah 62, exhausted from failed expectations and ashamed I had them in the first place. I wanted to be joyful. As I read the Lord’s beautiful promises, I slowly realized that I could indeed be joyful, even in this hard season. It felt like God had written this passage just for me that day. It said, “You shall be a crown of beauty in the hand of the LORD, and a royal diadem in the hand of your God. You shall no more be termed Forsaken, and your land shall no more be termed Desolate, but you shall be called My Delight Is in Her, and your land Married; for the Lord delights in you … As the bridegroom rejoices over the bride, so shall your God rejoice over you” (v. 3–5).

I could scarcely take those words in. Could God possibly be saying that to me? The Lord delights in me. He loves me like a bridegroom. He rejoices over me though I feel unwanted and unloved by the people around me. I let the enormity of God’s affirmation sink in and envelop me.

The most remarkable part of this approval and delight from God was that it wasn’t dependent on me. God rejoices over me with gladness and sings songs over me (Zeph. 3:17) just because I am his. Because of Christ, I have God’s unconditional approval. I will never face God’s wrath. He will never abandon me. He is always for me. The real source of my life is Christ.

When I had my family’s approval, I didn’t long for approval from God. I was satisfied. But when I was rejected and criticized by those closest to me, I finally looked to God for my sense of worth. And I discovered that his love and approval were stronger and more lasting and more life-giving than anyone else’s.

I left this time with the Lord overflowing with joy. I was no longer consumed with wanting the love of my children or the love of a husband. They couldn’t meet my deepest needs anyway. That joy was my real gift that Christmas, as Christ became more precious to me than he had ever been.

I am occasionally still discouraged over the Christmas season, missing the ways we used to celebrate. I long for affirmation from my family. Yet at the same time, I have a deeper and richer joy in our Savior than I’ve ever had. Christmas is no longer about keeping traditions. Or feeling family closeness. Or laughing around the table. It is about Jesus. Our traditions are not what make Christmas special. Christmas is worth celebrating because of Christ himself, who alone gives us worth.

Perhaps you are in a season of feeling constantly criticized; maybe you too have been abandoned by your husband, or mistreated by your children. Wherever you may be, the coming of Christ meets your longing to be loved, accepted, and delighted in. You are lovely because he loves you. God rejoices over you with singing because you are hidden in Christ. You are precious in the sight of your Savior.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION:

1. How do you respond when you feel unappreciated and criticized and even mistreated by those you love?

2. How can looking to Christ for your worth change your attitude towards others’ criticism of you?

3. Do you feel loved by Christ? How do you feel after reading the verses from Isaiah 62? Have you ever thought about God cherishing you that way?

Vaneetha Rendall Risner is a freelance writer, a regular contributor to Desiring God, and the author of the book The Scars That Have Shaped Me: How God Meets Us in Suffering.  She blogs at danceintherain.com, although she doesn’t like rain and has no sense of rhythm. Vaneetha is married to Joel and has two daughters, Katie and Kristi.

Our Longing for Help

My womb became a tomb on Easter day 2016. It did not matter that it was “early in the pregnancy.” The ultrasound showed a cavern of nothingness. Dark and silent. An empty womb, an empty tomb.

On bended knees and with our faces to the ground, my husband Hans and I came to the end of ourselves. We stood at the precipice of our own strength. We were not enough. We could not save our baby.

For months, we were learning to swim in the strange waters of grief. And the learning consumed all of our effort and limbs and souls.

Sisters and mothers in Christ surrounded us with their arms and with food. Familiar aromas wafted softly into our kitchen. Each dish bore tiny whiffs of the souls of those who loved us. Roast chicken, bouquet of roses and daisies and lilies, and creamy popsicles.

Our spiritual family prepared a table before us, in the presence of death, our enemy. They were the visible hands of our invisible God.

Tables in the Wilderness

Our Heavenly Father spread many tables in the wilderness. Meat and manna fell from the sky. Water flowed from a rock (Ex. 16–17). My children never tire of hearing how manna tasted like honey.

When Elijah lay exhausted in the wilderness, the angel of the Lord came to him not with a sermon or even a Bible verse, but with a freshly baked cake and water (1 Kings 19). When the disciples despaired over Jesus’ death and their empty nets, the resurrected Lord grilled fish over charcoal fire. He waited for them by the seashore and called out, “Come and have breakfast” (John 21:12).

The Lord speaks even through food. We need to eat, lest we die. Food tells us our Father knows our needs. He is no stranger to our weakness. In the face of fear and sin and despair, he cares for us and he feeds us. Food tells us God is with us.

The Table on the Battlefield

“You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies” (Ps. 23:5). Why does Yahweh prepare a table in the battlefield—in a psalm about sheep and shepherd? In Scripture, a shepherd is often used as a metaphor for a king. Commander-king Yahweh draws the battle line—with a table. Yahweh girds his people for battle not with horses, chariots, or a large army—but with a meal.

David takes a table made of wood and nails and turns it into a place of communion and fellowship with the Lord. David declares, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me” (Ps. 23:4). Before David’s enemies, Yahweh’s table stands as a fortress, a place of refuge. The table stands as a banner over Yahweh’s people: Immanuel, God with us.

 What King is This?

The servant king—this is one of the great paradoxes of the Christian religion. King Yahweh not only spread a feast for David, he even now fills his subject’s cup and anoints his subject’s head with oil.

A seat at the king’s table represents the king’s grace and favor. David welcomed Mephibosheth to his table as a gesture of mercy and loyalty to Jonathan (2 Sam. 9). In Proverbs 9, Lady Wisdom set a table of bread and wine. She called everyone to leave their simple ways and come to her table, in order that they might live.

Ordinarily, soldiers fight for their king. Not so for Yahweh. He is the king who fights for his people. Yahweh girds his soldiers with himself. David marched towards Goliath girded with the name of Yahweh: “You come to me with a sword and with a spear and with a javelin, but I come to you in the name of Yahweh of hosts.… For the battle is Yahweh’s, and he will give you into our hand” (1 Sam. 17:45–47).

The Table on Calvary

There is one problem. We are born on the wrong side of the table. We are conceived as rebel sinners and enemies of God. We are perpetually weak and without strength to save ourselves. We are doomed for an eternal death.

But God, in his mercy, sent Jesus. Unto us, the great high priest is given to intercede on our behalf. To our weakness he is no stranger (Heb. 4:14–16). The great high priest prepares a table in the presence of Yahweh. He offers himself as a sacrifice. “But God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8). He is the Bread of Life. This is his body, broken for us.

Jesus takes an object made of wood and nails and turns it into a place of communion and fellowship. He meets us at the cross and has died in our place. The cross is our refuge and fortress, the culmination of Yahweh’s provision and presence, his favor and grace. The cross stands as a banner over God’s people: Immanuel, God with us.

Pain saves me from many delusions. Pain—even the acute pain of an empty womb—opens my eyes and I see myself as I truly am, weak and insufficient, in need of help. The end of my strength is the beginning of faith. I see my Lord at his table, with nail-pierced hands and outstretched arms. He waits for us there, inviting us: “Come and have breakfast.”

The coming of Christ fulfills our longing to be helped as his perfection on our behalf earns our favor with God—seating us on the right side of the table at which we receive his presence, his peace, his provision, his protection, and his power to overcome sin.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION/ APPLICATION

1. In what way(s) are you currently experiencing your own emotional capacity or physical limitations in motherhood?

2. How is the presence of God a help to us in those moments when we are made most aware of our helplessness?

3. Read Hebrews 4:14–16. What comfort does it bring to imagine Christ as an advocate for you in the moments and seasons when you long for someone to notice your need and elicit aid?

4. How does the “feast” of a Savior, who ever lives and intercedes for you and offers you the moment-by-moment presence and help for which you long, free you from resenting you husband, mother, friends, in-laws, or circumstances in the times you feel let down by them? How does it protect from a feeling of loneliness, defeat, or powerlessness?

Irene Sun was born in Malaysia but has lived all over the world. She is the author of the picture book God Counts: Numbers in His World and His World. She studied liturgy and literature at Yale University (M.A.R.) and the Old Testament at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School (Th.M.). She now teaches her four boys at home with her husband Hans, a preacher in the Chicago area.