Cliff Clinging or Rock Resting? [Joy - Week 9]

 “May the God of hope fill you with ALL JOY + PEACE in believing, 

that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in HOPE.” Romans 15:13

Joy. Peace. Power. Hope. Aren’t these things we all deeply desire? And Paul so nicely ties them together in this Romans' verse. A logical little circle. 

Hope —> Joy —> Peace —> Power —> Hope!

I wrestled mightily with all of these words after first being diagnosed stage four. How could I have any of these things when I was stamped with an incurable disease and an incomprehensible prognosis?

Hope was reserved for stage one or two or three breast cancer, not stage four. Stage four felt like all I could do was hang on to a cliff that was quickly crumbling beneath me. When the doctors explained that we were no longer looking to cure me only to preserve some years for me, I felt utterly without hope. And certainly without joy or peace. 

Three years into this gig and you know I still wrestle a good bit. But God is doing a work in me that is nothing short of a miracle. I don’t know if He will miraculously cure my incurable disease, but He IS curing me of my doubts and disbelief. He is curing me of my natural self which wants to rest in test results or things I can pretend to control. 

He is curing me of the places I put my trust. He is curing me of the earthly desires and distractions which steal my daily attention. He is curing me of the false sense of security I have in myself. Oh, yes, He is curing me. And in His upside down Kingdom, He is using cancer to do so -- Cancer to cure me.

My joy, my peace, my power, my hope … It is never going to come from being declared cancer free. Yes, I want that. Yes, I desire that. Yes, I am asking every day for that. But, these things only—yes ONLY—come from the God of Hope. Not the god of good health or the god of here or the god of have-it-my-own-way. No, only the God of Hope. Capital G.

I would have told you I believed that for most of my life. And I sort of did. I mean I said I did. I thought I did. I tried to live like I did. But in these years of feeling like I’m clinging to a crumbling cliff, I’ve had to come to terms with what happens when the cliff finally falls away. What happens then? None of us can hang on forever. None of us will. Whether it be deemed earlier than average or a long and lusty life, it isn’t forever for any one of us. So what happens then? 

That question is everything. I’m sorry, try as we may, we really can’t ignore it.

I am waiting this week on some important blood results. We are praying and hoping for my numbers to go back down. These aren’t tumor markers which are somewhat unreliable, this is new science and it is pretty certain. I won’t have the results until end of this week or weekend. It is a long period of waiting. It is tiresome. It is trying. It is taking a toll on me and is a reminder of that crummy crumbly cliff to which I cling.

But this morning, very purposefully, Jesus met me and reminded me that it is not a cliff to which I cling, but a rock on which I rest. 

The Rock of my Salvation. The rock which reassures me of my eternity. The rock which provides shelter, security, and surety regardless of results. That Rock. 

“The Lord is my rock, my fortress and my deliverer; my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge, my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.”  ~ Psalm 18:2

“Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer! From the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” Psalm 61:1 & 2

Not only can I rest rightly upon it, but I am hidden in it. 

I think of the story from Exodus 33 when Moses met with the Lord before leaving for the promised land. I’m pretty sure Moses would have told us that he felt like the Lord was asking a lot of him: Leave this land. Lead these people. Learn all these lessons. Maybe Moses was unsure, unconvinced, unsettled. Why did it have to be so hard? Why was the Lord asking so much? 


But instead of asking all the “why” questions, Moses asked God to show him His glory. “Now show me your glory.” Maybe he had gotten to that point where he didn't any longer need to know why, but that it was worth it. God’s glory was enough. Because God’s glory is enough.

“Then the Lord said, ‘There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by.”  Exodus 33:21 & 22

I don't know about you, but I can’t help but picture myself in that cleft of His mighty rock. Me in that carefully carved out crevice and covered with the very hand of God. For His glory. Hidden. Safe. Secure. Sure.

And full of hope.

“May the God of hope fill you with ALL JOY + PEACE in believing, that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in HOPE.” Romans 15:13

Where Do You Dwell? [Joy - Week 8]

“THEN my head will be exalted above my enemies who surround me; at His sacred tent I will sacrifice with shouts of JOY; I will sing and make music to the Lord.” ~ Psalm 27:6

*THEN*

The English teacher in me needs to tell you that “then”  positioned at the beginning of  verse 6 is pointing to something earlier in the Psalm 27 passage. We must go back and read verses 4 & 5 to better understand why this word “then” is used —

“One thing I ask from the Lord,
this only do I seek:
that I may DWELL in the house of the Lord
 all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
    and to seek Him in His temple. For in the day of trouble.He will keep me safe in His DWELLING; He will hide me in the shelter of His sacred tent and set me high upon a rock.”  Psalm 27:4&5

THEN comes joy. 

But FIRST I must DWELL with the Lord.

Dwell, then joy. 

I can shout for joy at His sacred tent BECAUSE I am safe in His dwelling and hidden in the shelter of His tent. 

How hidden? How safe? HIGH upon a rock hidden and safe. 

That hidden. That safe.

This psalm was used as the call to worship at a revival service I attended last night. I was there to meet Jesus. To ask for His power and healing. I am praying in faith. Sometimes it feels like a big faith, but mostly it is more mustard seed sized. He tells me that is all I need—the tiny faith of a mustard seed. 

I am not sure the size of my faith matters as much as where I choose to DWELL. His word instructs me over and over again to—

To seek Him in His temple 

To seek His face.

To seek His righteousness.

To gaze on His beauty.

To dwell in His house.

“Blessed are those who DWELL in your house; they are ever praising you.”  Psalm 84: 4 

and

“Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere.” Psalm 84:10

and

“How lovely is your DWELLING place, Lord Almighty.” Psalm 84:1 

Yes, I want to choose joy, but first I must ask myself —Where do I dwell? 

Where do I spend my time, my thoughts, my energy, my attention, my focus, my money, my everything. 

Where do I dwell each day?

The joy will come. But first I must decide to dwell with the Lord. To stay with Him. To accept His shelter, His shadow, the safe-haven of His holiness.

“Whoever DWELLS in the shelter of the Most High, will REST in the shadow of the Almighty.” Psalm 91

This verse has become a bit of a bulwark or hallmark in my life lately. Securely stamped. It is one of the verses I have on repeat in my head when I wake in the middle of the night or when I’m feeling anxious or afraid in the middle of the day. I say it out loud:

JODY who DWELLS in the shelter of the Most High 

will REST in the shadow of the Almighty.

She who dwells will rest. 

And she who rests will also [then] find joy. 

DWELL- REST- JOY. 

It is a winning combination. 

More importantly, it is a life-giving combination.

Hebrews says it a little differently —

“Fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith. For the JOY set before Him He endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2

Eyes on Jesus! He is the ultimate example of JOY in the hardest of circumstances. See, if my eyes are on Him then they just can’t be quite so focused on me or on my cancer or on any of my many issues.

Fixing my eyes on Jody causes me to fret.

Fixing my eyes on Jesus encourages me toward faith.

Dwelling on me, I get depressed in my brokenness.

Dwelling on Him, I get to gaze at His beauty.

Remember the old song …

“Turn your eyes upon Jesus

Look full in His wonderful face

And the things of this earth

Will grow strangely dim

In the light of His glory and grace.”

Can you hear the tune? Sing it today. Whistle it. Write it out on a piece of paper and put it up on your refrigerator door.

Remind yourself where you dwell matters. 

Turn your eyes to Him. 

Tune our hearts to sing His praise.

DWELL-REST-JOY!

“At His sacred tent, I will sacrifice with shouts of joy.” Psalm 27:6

If you are up for it, I’d love to assign a little extra homework. Can I  encourage you this week to spend time in three Psalms where I believe the Lord is encouraging us to DWELL more deeply with Him? Psalm 27, Psalm 91 and Psalm 84. 

Maybe use these as part of your quiet time and see for yourself all of the ways in which they beautifully connect and come together.

One last thing I want to share  — This week God gave me the sweetest little gift around the word “dwell.” In some research I was doing about Bella’s Chinese name Zhang Xue Zhu, I learned that the “Zhu” part actually has several meanings. We had always thought it meant bamboo, but another meaning is “dwell.” I loved learning that this week almost 15 years after she has been home! 

Labor Pains [Joy - Week 7]

Last week in my JOY post I wrote about being a mom. This week, in honor of Mother’s Day, I’d like to share with you the joy of having a mom.

After living long-distance from my parents for over 25+ years, last May, we moved my mom from Ohio to Georgia to be closer to us.  She is in an assisted living community nearby. And though there is help provided, I still spend a good bit of time now caring for my mom. And sometimes it is hard. Really hard. Because aging is really hard. But, mostly, I am grateful for this opportunity to have my mom close and to be more involved in her life and have her in ours. 

For Mother's Day this weekend, we had mom stay with us and did our best to treat her like a queen. I won’t say she likes to be treated like a queen. But … she likes to be treated like a queen! :) And who doesn't? Fine china and tea with the perfect amount of lemon and sugar, flower bouquets, new pajamas, phone calls from out of town family, church and brunch, grandchildren and a glass of wine. You get the picture. It was a lovely day for her and for all of us. It brought her joy … and that brought me joy. 

Isn’t it true, so often our own joy comes from doing things for others? Especially those, like our moms, who have done so much for us. I wasn’t exactly an easy child. I’m pretty sure at age 14 she would have liked to ship me off to boarding school or an island somewhere far away. But we made it through those years and she was faithful in her love and patience and prayers. And here we are full circle and this mother who mothered me is now being a bit mothered by me. Because that is sort of what also must happen. The circle of life. Did I mention it can be hard? It’s hard for her. It’s hard for me. Hard, and yet, holy.

Because it’s also a great privilege to have this chance to do so. I know not every person gets this opportunity at this juncture in life. Somedays I must remind myself of that. 

Just like I had  to do when I had a house full of small children and I found myself feeling overwhelmed and out numbered and crying in a locked bathroom. Even when I wanted to ship my own 14 year old daughters off to boarding school or a far away island. I loved them all dearly, but some days were just plain challenging. That is such a part of motherhood. Daughterhood. Womanhood. Personhood. Life. 

Mothering requires a grit and a grace that isn’t easily put into words, but like the pains of labor, we often forget the anguish or sorrow or difficult days when we recall how sweet and good a gift it is. 

As Mother’s Day came to a close yesterday and Bella and I drove mom back to her apartment, my mom began to tell us some sweet things she had been recently remembering about each of her four kids when we were little. She doesn’t always talk this way and so it was a precious moment for us to share with her. At one point I quietly asked Bella to hit the record button on my phone so I could save these little stories. This morning I woke up and decided I’d leave them in this post today as they brought me joy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The summer before my older brother Doug was getting ready to head off to Kindergarten he and my mom were out for a walk together. He was six years old and still held her hand tightly. As they strolled by the school building where he would begin in just a month or so, she asked him if he was excited to start Kindergarten soon. Doug answered saying, “Yeah, I think so. But ...” He paused a bit before continuing on, “Mom, will you be missing me like I’ll be missing you?” My mom told us she could still see him looking up, his tiny hand in hers, and asking that question so earnestly and sweetly. She assured him she would indeed be missing him. 

As second born, I was the next story in line. Mom shared with us that in 2nd grade my teacher, Mrs. Hanek, often told her that I talked entirely too much in class, but that she couldn’t quite figure out how to prove it. She said every time she heard me talking she’d quickly turn and ask me a question to see if I was paying attention. Apparently she wanted to catch me not following along, but, try as she did, I always seemed to have just the right answer at the right time even though I was very busy chatting with a neighbor classmate. Dear Betsy Hanak said to my mom, “Your Jody doesn’t miss a beat, does she? I bet she is going to be a bit of a multi-tasker when she grows up.” My mom was laughing as she relayed Mrs. Hanak's comment about me all of those years ago. Since that 2nd grade year she has, indeed, gotten to watch her oldest daughter multi-task a time or two.

Jessica is the third born and one of mom’s favorite memories of Jess was when in pre-school her teacher, Mrs. Cavanaugh, shared that she found herself in a bit of a pickle having Jessica in her classroom because every time the class had to pair up to cross the street or line up with a partner for an activity, everybody wanted to choose Jess to be their partner or buddy. Her classmates would literally argue and sometimes even cry over who got to hold Jess’ hand. This never surprised my mom (or me hearing this story yesterday) as Jess has always been a good friend to everyone and the friend everyone always wanted to call as their own.

Nicole is the “baby” of the four, but this number in birth order has never come close to defining her. She is one of the strongest, smartest, and most confident women I know. Appreciating my sister as much as I do today, Mom’s story about her might have tickled me the most. When Nicole was just a tiny little thing—maybe 6 or 7 months old—my mom, after bathing Nicole one evening, held her up in front of the mirror wrapped in her towel. Nicole looked at herself and then pointed at the mirror and said loudly and clearly her very first word, “Baby!” Though Nicole has always confidently known who she is, she also has never let a label define her, baby or not! My mom told us that Nicole talked early and often, not unlike her oldest sister. I bet Mrs. Hanak probably came close to throwing in the towel a little when many years later Nicole entered her 2nd grade classroom. Another talkative Seaman sister. No surprise that today Nicole is not only an avid reader and wonderful writer, but is also masterful in her use of vocabulary. Mrs. Hanak would be proud. Her oldest sister sure is.

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If you’ve made it through these little stories about my siblings and me, thank you for reading. I write them to remind us all that even in difficult times, God is faithful to provide the kindest moments and the sweetest memories. Mom isn't remembering everything these days and so I am thankful she recalled these little childhood snip its. It was lovely getting the chance to hear her tell these particular stories on the short car ride back. A day like Mother's Day can be such a mixture of emotions. Like life, it encompasses so much. And so on this Monday afterward, I want to encourage us, regardless of the labor pains of life, to remember the joy available and abundant. 

Perhaps it is feeling as if "the hour has come" for you. You are in the heat of it. In the hot seat of anguish or grief or a grueling labor. But there will be a time where you will remember the good past and the good to come and joy will find you once again. 

“When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for JOY that a child is born into the world.” ~ John 16:21

 

 

 

No Greater Joy [Joy - Week 6]

“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” ~ 3 John 4

Connor, our 4th born, is truly a family favorite! And this past weekend the whole crew gathered together in Birmingham, Alabama to celebrate his graduation from Samford University.

What a wonderful weekend. I’m not going to lie, watching Connor walk across the stage to receive his college diploma made my mama heart swell big time. Seriously, we are all so proud of him and his hard work. 

But later that night—After the ceremonies were over. After the dinner celebration had ended. After the gifts were given and the accolades issued. After the cap & gown were stuffed into the backseat of his pick up truck and the day wound down—Later that night, in bed, in the dark, and half asleep, I had my best JOY moment ever. 

Just before drifting off to sleep, I thought about my kids all there nestled under one roof for the night and I gave praise for God’s goodness gathering them together, but more importantly, gathering them to Him.

This young man who walked across the stage earlier that day to shake a hand and receive a degree, this young man walks with Jesus, as do his siblings.

The diplomas and awards and achievements my kids have earned over the years are all nice and worthy of celebration, but they absolutely pale in comparison to their relationships with Jesus.  

There is absolutely no greater joy than knowing they walk with Him. Nothing comes close. How can it possibly? We are talking about the difference between temporal and eternal. These accomplishments and achievements and gifts and gains are great and should be applauded, but they are only for the here and now. Someday they will be packed up in an attic or basement box and will begin to mildew or at the very least be completely forgotten. 

Like mine. This past winter I spent a good deal of time sorting through all of our boxes (and boxes and BOXES) of saved things. Mementos and memories and more stuff than any family should ever sanely accumulate. I came across my college diploma. And my high school and grade school diplomas too. And Rick's as well. I mean, honestly, what am I even supposed to do with these things?

In our storage area we have boxes from both of our parents and all of their parents and ourselves and our kids. It spans generations and generations. I could devote an entire room to family papers and mementos. A family records room of sorts! I’ve thought about it.

But at the end of the day, you and I both know we can’t take any of it with us in the end. It is just stuff.

It means something, sure. But not nearly enough. These things are for now, but they won’t get us to the finish line. Not even the fanciest of degrees.

So the real joy comes from knowing they are secure in Christ. They have placed their trust in Him. But please hear me--This is gratitude, not great boasting or bragging. I can boast of nothing. “But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.” Galatians 6:14. There’s nothing to boast about, but Jesus. If anything, it is humbling. 

And though I have great joy knowing they profess Jesus, I can promise you that doesn’t mean it is pretty and perfect and all tied up in a nice package. Not. At. All. If you know the McNatts, you know we are also messy, messy, messy. My kids might follow Jesus, but they also fall and fail and falter. Just like their mom and dad.

Walking with Jesus does’t mean everything is easy and effortless. Nope, we struggle. We sin. We mess up. We mess up again and again and again. And that’s where His GRACE comes in. 

We don’t need a diploma on the wall in a fancy frame we need the divine dispensation of His love come down for us. Come down to give us real hope and a real future. 

It is available for all. There’s no prerequisites required. No classes or conditions needed. It is ready and waiting and completely free for anyone willing to walk across the stage of life and bow at the feet of Jesus. 

Sure my job as a mom was to launch them out of the nest and into adulthood, but make no mistake, my biggest and most important job was always to lead them, best I could, to Jesus. And as I fight for joy this year, I wanted to share this true celebration with you all.

One last thing I feel like I must add--maybe you have a child's who isn't walking with the Lord. Let me encourage you--God's got them. If they have a mother or father praying for them, He hears your prayers and He is doing a work. Let's choose to trust Him. His timing is perfect and His ways are most tender. He is the Good Shepherd who leaves the 99 and returns for the one. He is that Jesus. 

This week I invite you to memorize with me --

“I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth.” 

~ 3 John 4