Wisdom’s Doorway

Author: Kimberley Mulder

Garland, on a fantastic sale, roped me in. Soon I was deep in the scrolling, pictures of fake evergreen to festoon my doorway flitting before me. Fantasies of sparkling greenery shimmering in new-fallen snow glimmered in my imagination. Until I realized how much time had passed and that I had purposed to write today about the doorway to wisdom! Wisdom’s doorway is not draped with discount plastic greenery!

Proverbs 8 is the personification of Wisdom, and in it she calls out to us. In verse 34 we read:

“Blessed are those who listen to me, watching daily at my doors, waiting at my doorway.” Prov. 8:34

How inviting, how decked out would Wisdom’s house be? Would it be the grandest on the block? The simplest but most elegant? The unadorned? What would cry out to the passersby “Wisdom lives here!”

I picture a palace; a high, gilded doorway, rich with gold and fancy with filigree. Floors of exquisite colored tiles. Enormous, breathtaking paintings. This would make me want to linger in awe like a tourist in an exotic palace.

Maybe Wisdom’s doorway would be filled with ancient splendor that only the attentive archaeologist knows is valuable. The uninformed or fad follower would pass by it as old junk.

Christmas Kimberley MulderHow does one recognize Wisdom’s doorway?

By knowing who lives inside. The doorway is marked by the presence, not the decorations, not the gilded ornament, not the scuff marks. It is recognizable by the life lived inside. And it is found only by those willing to look for it.

The Magi wanted to find Wisdom. They saw and followed Wisdom, by starlight, to a wooden stable. Hinges loose, door banging, straw and refuse on the floor. Splintering wood beams. The doorway they stood in as they offered their gifts of sacrifice and love to Wisdom himself was nothing like a king’s.

But the Magi understood something that we often ignore or dispute – and that is that wisdom often leads in unlikely ways to unlikely places. They humbled themselves to the unlikely.

Kimberley Mulder ChristmasThey sought, watched, listened, waited, and anticipated with hope. They trusted that “I love those who love me, and those who seek me find me. With me are riches and honor, enduring wealth and prosperity.” Prov. 8:17-18

And when the star led them to foreign lands, to the living quarters of livestock, they did not balk. Instead, they lingered in the splinter-beamed doorway of the King. What unlikely place might wisdom be leading you? It might be a low doorway under which you need to bow your head. You will know it by the Presence inside.

Consider: Jesus said that he is the gate (John 10:7 and 9). Now marry that with Proverb 8 and we see that “Blessed are those who listen to me, watching daily at my gates, waiting beside my doors.” Prov. 8:34

So I consider: At which doorway am I lingering daily? Am I looking for flash and fancy when Wisdom is in the mundane? Am I trying to gloss and decorate the truth? Am I too busy hunting down the best bargain on a gift (or a garland) to seek the treasure of life? Am I lingering at Wisdom’s doorway or at Walmart’s?


2016-11-02 13.10.06Kimberley Mulder is a contemplative at heart who deeply enjoys the company of Jesus in the day-to-day of caring for her family of 5 (plus a dog and a cat), teaching English to immigrants, growing her garden, and writing. Currently, her walk with Jesus is taking her more deeply into writing as she leads a spiritual formation group at her church, and records the reflections and connections Jesus gives her to share with others.  She treasures the truth that God’s Word does not go back to him without accomplishing the purpose for which he sent it, and that that Word is embodied in our lives. (Isaiah 55:11)

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Goodbyes, Change, and Grandma

Author: Angela Burril

I am not good at change.  I like all things vintage, except my refrigerator and my long-distance traveling car—these I would prefer new or with very low mileage.  Yet, aside from God, all things change.

Angela Burril ChangeThis last spring ushered in a profound change, and I have yet to get my mind and heart around it—the passing of my most beloved Grandmother.  My mother died when I was only 17 years old. In my panic over all the things I did not know how to do without her, Grandma showed up. She lived a mere 10 miles from my house and handled my emotional frenzy with grace. She gave instruction on how to boil an egg, and never disregarded my feelings of despair.

“The only time this will differ is when you are trying to cook at a different altitude.  For now, just boil it for 15 minutes exactly and you will have a perfect egg!  You can do this!” she said, and as she did my blood pressure dropped back down a good 50 points and my heart rate settled to where it could no longer be heard pounding in my ears.

Time and time again my Grandmother would stand in the gap when my motherless spirit threatened to drown my soul with tears and my immobilized voice cried out to the Lord in pain.  God knew I needed her.  God repeatedly sustains me with His word, and often those words come through human vessels. To me, Grandma was a vessel through which God poured compassion, understanding, and love.

In her last days, we knew the time was close.  So, I left my two girls and husband to fend for themselves for a couple days while I traveled three hours alone to say goodbye.  She was no longer always coherent and her eyesight was nearly gone. Into her nursing home room I marched, upright only because I had asked every person I could think of for prayer!  My arms were loaded with my Bible, a hymn book, and a quilt I was working on. My heart carried every intention to be a comfort to Grandma and to tell her how much I loved her.

“Hi Grandma!  It’s me – Angie,” my voice was strained with a lightness that did not reach my soul, and I busied myself looking for a space to unload my arms to give myself a minute to regroup my emotions.

“Oh Angie!  How nice!  Would you like a cupcake?  I’m sure I have cupcakes or something for you!”  Grandma responded in delight.  My gaze did not take long to inventory the room and know that Grandma’s homemade bakery delights were not to be on the menu this time or ever again.  Grandma spelled love F-O-O-D, and every bite of her homemade creations was permeated with her deep affection for her family. Taste buds danced with joy and contentment, sighing because they knew they were home.

“That’s so nice, but no.  I’m okay.”  I replied and moved to change the subject.  “May I read to you from my Bible Grandma?”  I asked.

“Yes,” she replied very simply.  I read to her from my Bible, and then from the hymnal the stories of how hymn writers were inspired to write a particular hymn.  Then I sat my quilt in her lap, so she might feel the work I was doing on it.  She dosed off and on all day, but just when I thought she was asleep she would pipe up with a timely word that made me smile.  So, I talked to her the whole time, just like I had always done since I was a little girl.

“Grandma, when it comes time to go, look for the angels.  They will show the way to Jesus.  In Luke 16:22 Jesus tells the story of how the poor man called Lazarus “…was carried by the angels…” after he died.  Grandma said nothing and seemed to be far off in her own thoughts.

The next day I came to say goodbye.  Grandma was having a good morning.  She listened to my step-mom and I sing some hymns and I read a blessing over Grandma.  Numbers 6:24-26:

The Lord bless you and keep you;
the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;
the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace.

“Grandma, I just want to say thank you,” I said in a voice so thick with emotions that I could not find the words to convey all that I felt.  “You have loved us well.”

She visibly brightened with delight and replied without hesitation, “You’re welcome.  There is enough to go around.”  The next flood of tears rose instantly in my throat.  I treasured up these words to muse over later, because there was still one more thing to say.  I needed to tell her the last words my 10-year-old daughter wanted Grandma to hear.

Change Angela Burril“Grandma, Teal wanted me to tell you that if she doesn’t see you before, she will see you with Jesus in heaven.”  My tears were near the breaking point, but I wanted to stay in this moment.  I swallowed hard again, and bent to kiss her cheek goodbye.  “I love you, Grandma.”  I turned and walked blindly to the door.

Just as I reached the door, Grandma called out to me once again, “Travel safely.”

I don’t know what God is teaching me through goodbye, but I know He holds tomorrow.  In the midst of this pain, there is joy and that can only be because of the hand of the LORD!  I would not feel the pain if I had not felt the love.  I can take the joy and the pain because I know it has been sifted through God’s fingers. He is here to comfort me as I grieve.

I grieve, but I do not live in grief.  The sacrifice of Jesus laying down His life has given me this freedom.  I can rejoice, although I am certainly sad, because I know, thanks to Jesus, I will see Grandma again.


Angela Burril HeadshotAngela Burril lives on a small acreage farm in Madras, OR with her husband, Gus, and two young daughters, Teal (10 years) and Shiloh (5 years).  She taught high school science (Biology, Forensic Science, Integrated Science, and Physical Science) for eight years.  After that, she became a stay at home mom and part time “ranch/farm manager.”  For the last 10 years, Angela has taught ladies Bible Studies, and some various adult Sunday School Classes.  Some of the topics she has spoke on include: waiting on God, fear, loneliness, letting God lead your emotions, grace, loss, and spiritual authenticity. Angela’s speaking is characterized by sincerity and a wholehearted attempt to see the trials and challenges in life as blessed
opportunities to see and feel God’s presence.

The Opportunity of Discipline

Author: Kimberley Mulder

I hate having to discipline my children. I hold awkwardly and begrudgingly the parental authority that has been given to me. There is nothing that causes my heart to sink faster than my children’s disobedience and disputes. I can be in a fantabulous mood all day but when that door bursts open and in tumbles a wailing child followed quickly by a yelling one it feels like a massive vacuum suddenly sucked away my mood and energy. Honestly, if I am not careful this scenario can wrench my attitude into despair and discord for the rest of the day. It is in these times that I am seeing the situation as a burden rather than the opportunity it is offering.

What is the goal of discipline? Certainly good citizenship is a goal, as is building good habits. However, these are lesser goals. The great goal of discipline is to teach us to trust God. This is true whether discipline is enforced from outside (think parenting), or internally adhered to (think self-discipline). To keep our relationship with God healthy and strong he instituted an intertwined dance of trust and discipline. Every sin is, in some way, a distrust of God; discipline was meant to guide us away from the lies we believe and back to the heart of the One who loves us.

Kimberley Mulder DisciplineDivine discipline strikes me as art. God gets His message across to us, His disobedient children, in so many ways. Reading the Bible as a standard is a two-dimensional reading of a three-dimensional text. The dimensions of God’s discipline are so deep and high and loving, so personal that the receptive child will feel the gentle pressing of His words in the scriptures, and have it bring out conviction like a hologram that has turned to reveal the picture. At other times, in love that we cannot understand, He abruptly blocks a path like a shutter capturing a black and white image.

Imagine the Father painting His discipline throughout history. The base layer is the creation of the Israelites and the ten commandments, then throughout the Old Testament He adds the foundational characteristics through particular sudden strokes (like Saul’s downfall in 1 Samuel or Jeroboam’s legacy of war because of his idol worship in 1 Kings.) The prophets add depth to the horizon as they envision God’s desires and cry out to the Israelites to return to God. But when Jesus walks onto the canvas the picture becomes alive and complete. The details are added as the broad strokes of the old covenant are built on and covered by the fine, personal, lines of forgiveness.

Jesus touches and teaches individuals that it’s the heart the Father is trying to reach through discipline. He doesn’t want outward conformists and inward sinners. In John 8 the Pharisees ask him how to discipline the woman caught in adultery. But Jesus tells these conformists: “Let any one of you who is without sin throw a stone at her.” This masterful stroke drives right into their hearts. Then he deftly highlights the beauty He is painting with the finishing stroke of forgiving the woman.

So, as a parent, I want to emulate God’s purposes in my discipline. The trajectory of all my efforts is not to make good kids who will obey all the rules. Rather, it is to develop their trust in God above all.

Discipline Kimberley MulderI want them to trust me too, which means I must be trustworthy. Are they seeing and feeling that I have their best interests in mind? If I am reacting, then I don’t have their interests at the forefront. Do I listen to them carefully, giving them space to be heard? Do they see me making every effort to be fair? I hope they will reflect on their growing up and see that the consequences I placed on them were part of what shows my trustworthiness and God’s. This is a lot to embed into the hot scenarios that we encounter daily with our kiddos! That is why it is so important to spend time intentionally thinking and praying about our discipline strategies.

For some of us we need to see the discipline in our childhood as our Old Testament and let Jesus lead us into living his new covenant as we discipline our kids. Do you react harshly wanting to simply squelch a behavior? I confess, I do at times because of my upbringing and lack of intentionality. However, Jesus doesn’t squelch, ever. He probes into the pain and sin, illuminates, addresses and then extracts it with his truth and forgiveness. He does it in a way that draws us near, not pushes us away.

If you struggle, as I do, to allow Christ to renovate your discipline, I encourage you to intentionally address it. Certainly pray and read the gospels to gain insight into Jesus’s way. Seek out classes on discipline that are grounded in His way. Talk to parents who you have witnessed disciplining with grace and wisdom. Employ forgiveness. Learn to evaluate your response before you execute it. My oldest sometimes gets frustrated with me because I take too long (in her view) to answer or discipline. I remind her that I need to take the time to carefully process the situation with Jesus so that I don’t react in a sinful way. And when I do riff off a reactionary consequence to her (always to damaging effect!), I have gone back to her and apologized. Then we evaluate what an appropriate consequence would be for the situation.

Let’s internalize God’s loving discipline and intentionally learn the art of building trust through the opportunities that the disobedience of children and others bring to us.


2016-11-02 13.10.06Kimberley Mulder is a contemplative at heart who deeply enjoys the company of Jesus in the day-to-day of caring for her family of 5 (plus a dog and a cat), teaching English to immigrants, growing her garden, and writing. Currently, her walk with Jesus is taking her more deeply into writing as she leads a spiritual formation group at her church, and records the reflections and connections Jesus gives her to share with others.  She treasures the truth that God’s Word does not go back to him without accomplishing the purpose for which he sent it, and that that Word is embodied in our lives. (Isaiah 55:11)

When We Hear of Another Mass Shooting…

Vegas. In the middle of the dry and the desolate, man has crafted a place where lights and golden-gilding cover luxurious arch ways ushering people into glossy portrayals of Dante’s nine circles.

In timeless, windowless, oxygen-infused casinos where multisensory stimulation waits around every corner, it is easy to forget both sun and moon, and just keep going, eyes wide, watching the continuous show. Until the sins everybody thought would stay there creep too close. On the night of October 1st, 2017 evil preformed its deadly dance and shot across the sky stealing the breath of over 50 people.

500+ injured.

Thousands traumatized.

Another mass shooting.

I want to ask “When will it stop?”But I find that to be an unanswerable question. For I have learned this truth—I live in a fallen world.

image2I was a senior in high school the year the Columbine Tragedy shocked the nation and infected people with a new brand of fear. It was like nothing I had seen before. I remember sitting by the television, still, shaken, and unsure. What? How? Why? I went to school the next day, finding myself cowering from the group that wore trench coats, and looking at my classmates with suspicion. It hadn’t required courage to walk into class the day before; this day it did. Still numb, I listened to my favorite teacher as she lamented the tragedy with tears and placed her hands protectively over her pregnant belly. She had to be asking herself, would she be willing to die for us?

Ten years later, I stepped up in front of my first class as a student-teacher, and I had to ask myself the same question. By this time, running students through lockdown drills was common practice, so I instructed them on how to hide in case of a gunman. I remember assessing how many students my body could shield. I am not naturally morbid, but as a teacher I needed to know how I would protect the students entrusted to me? Whether this is asked of our teachers or not, many consider this part of their job.

Before Columbine, it seemed that gang members were the gun carriers to be afraid of, terrorists seemed far away in other countries, and schools, churches, and movie theaters felt safe. And now, we risk developing a callous on society’s collective heart as we accept the mass shootings as an unavoidable reality. We clutch our chests, breathe out a helpless, “Again?!” Then we move on, because we just can’t handle the depth of the carnage of innocents gunned down.

The secluded white male young adult has become the face to fear, and he is everywhere. But again, in this label, I think we have it wrong. The problem isn’t a group, racism, or a religion. Nor is it gun control, mental health, or bad parents. There is chaos created by these things, but they are just symptoms of the deeper problem: evil. A problem too big for humans to address. This is why we feel so helpless to make it stop.

I hope for legislation that might actually be productive, but I won’t be writing laws anytime soon. I will vote, but I will also do my best to make the most of my time. I am determined stand against evil in whatever way it presents before me.

If Christians are to be lights in a dark world, we must stop fighting against each other, and every little piece of culture that threatens our comfort. We need to be who we are through Christ—righteous, more than conquerors, and carriers of the good news that offers a choice of who we will serve.

A good God or an evil world? On which side will we stand?

image1 (1)There is a war going on: For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.-Ephesians 6:12

When we forget that this unseen battle is being waged for souls, the works of those submitted to wickedness stuns us. When we are forced to remember that evil is real, let it remind us to fight harder, love deeper, and pray continually. I have no answer for “When will it stop?” I trust that victory will come, but I do not know when. In the mean time, I pray for those mourning, I refuse to harden my heart, and from the depth of my being I cry out “Have mercy Lord Jesus.”


chara-donahue-head-shotChara Donahue can often be found with her nose in a book and coffee in hand. She enjoys freelance writing, biblical counseling, and speaking to women when her four kids are out playing with dad. She holds a MSEd from Corban University and is passionate about seeing people set free through God’s truths. She is a regular contributor at iBelieve and her words have appeared at Christianity Today’s Women Leaders,(in)courage, Patheos, and The Huffington Post. She longs to be a voice that says, “Hey we are in this together, and there is room for us all.” You can find more from Chara at One Anchored Voice, on Facebook, and on Twitter.

This post was adapted from and earlier version first published at Venn Magazine

September Printable: Rest

Fall is officially here and Sarah Dohman has designed a beautiful fall printable to celebrate the crisp air and changing of leaves. As seasons shift we can feel the hustle of life tug at our souls, but Jesus is always there to give us peace. Go to Him. He awaits your weary heart with rest and revival.

Click Here to Get Your Free Printable

Matthew1128

August Printable: My Strong Fortress

As the summer days begin to wane, schedules fill and life begins to find familiar rhythms. If this shift in seasons feels overwhelming,  Psalm 18:2 is a good place for your thoughts to rest. Sarah Dohman has provided this free printable for you, so that you can have a visual reminder of where true refuge lies.

Psalm 18 2

Click here to download your free printable!

Victorious Rest

Author: Kate Franken

Stress and Anxiety. The world is filled with them both, and they torment me.  Stomach pain, tension headaches, and sleepless nights have all followed in their wake. They have weakened my immune system, making me more susceptible to colds and viruses, pneumonia, and even shingles. I never invited them in, and I detest that they linger. They take residence and hide in the places I feel empty, depleting me all the more.

rest Kate FrankenBut I am my own worst enemy, being the sinner that I am. They exist because of the war going on inside me. They are outworkings of the side that believes “I am strong” and “I am enough”. The culture that surrounds me bolsters this notion. My people-pleasing ways only perpetuate irrational thinking.  And all of this mess, this chaos, it reeks of sin. Annihilation is its fate.

As I am being sanctified, greater victories are being claimed by the side that believes “I am weak and He is strong” and “He is enough”. Rest is the outworking of the holy overcoming. In this rest, all striving ceases. I hold to Psalm 46:10 “Be still, and know that I am God”. A practice in which I experience the fullness of Christ. Peace and contentment envelop me, as He prevails over the war within.

As followers of Christ, rest is ours. For we are slaves no more and now walk in the freedom of Christ. No longer are we running the rat race encumbered by proving something of ourselves. Our tight grip on things of this world is released in the surrendering of our lives to a Sovereign God. We can let out a sigh of relief as all order is restored with God seated on the throne.

Kate Franken RESTRegrettably, this isn’t the state we remain in constantly. Without warning, we find ourselves trapped, falling back to the lure of old, less godly, ways. We are no different than the Israelites—tempted to distrust God and think we know best. We take the steps that lead to our own desert-like wanderings.

In these times, we need to remember the manna, the pillar of cloud, the pillar of fire, the provisions of water, and the undeserved grace that sustained the Israelites. They speak to the goodness and faithfulness of our God. If He has done it once, He can do it again. He is true and everlasting and as we feast daily on the Word of God, meditating on who God is, our ability to trust in Him strengthens. Our assurance increases as we surround ourselves with a community of believers and witness God move in the lives of others and have them speak truth into our own lives. Finally, when we release our need for control and seek God in prayer for all the worries that try to plague our faith, we see that though the battle rages we will come out victorious.


kate-squareKate Franken is a 4th grade teacher and a volunteer coordinator at her church in Oregon. She enjoys indulging in raw conversation whilst savoring a cup or more of coffee. Her hunt for good books and podcasts is endless. She finds refuge surrounded by trees, on hiking trails, with her two dogs in tow. She is especially fond of mountaintop views, wit, “best teacher ever” love letters, breakfast, a painted sky, and Jesus. She has a heart for connecting people to His church and encouraging others into relationship with Him.

Glory Day

Author: Kimberley Mulder

The day was almost sabotaged. It arrived sandwiched between National Blueberry Day and another week of packing with three kids suffering summer doldrums. We sat in moving mess, random socks, treasured Turkish bowls, and Christmas lights were stepped over as we popped fresh blueberries into our mouths.

In an effort to keep life enjoyable and remotely summer-ish, we kept to our tradition of picking blueberries though boxes begged to be packed and the to-do list called. Those first exploding sweet-tart tastes led to excited exclamations, but the heat and fatigue of the weeks wisped away the wonder within quick minutes. We foraged on, determined to make good on our tradition, but in the end our moods nearly spoiled the joy of fresh fruit.

Today,God says, -rest.-Today is what we call glory day, our day of rest among the chaos. Blueberry day lies behind me along with the half checked-off moving list with twenty more added items, scores of mediating moments as siblings lock horns again and again. Ahead of me lies two weeks that look nearly blank on my Google calendar – a picture perfect, relaxing summer vacay–except that it simply doesn’t record the hours of packing, organizing, and sorting, the time it takes to mediate moments, the impromptu play dates, and the legion of other moving preparations.

Today, God says, “Rest.” If I were not in the habit of resting on the Sabbath, I would not slow today. The pressure of so many decisions to be made and things to be done would fuel my activity. I am so thankful that this is a habit that the Lord has given me, as He has you. He commanded us, knowingly, mercifully, to rest, just as He did (Gen. 2:2-3). This literal break from whatever work I have in that particular season, this breath of a day meant to enjoy Him and savor His presence–it leads me to Him and resuscitates my body and soul weekly.

Today He is taking the lesson deeper. I am a peace-glutton, responsibility-taker, rule-follower, recovering perfectionist, people-pleaser, leader, Mom, busy home-maker, and micro-manager. This combination, under the pressure of a tight timeline for major life change, is the perfect storm to turn me into a barking, harsh, commander who makes the lives of everyone around miserable with the quick winds of unrealistic expectation.

Kimberley Mulder RestI foresee a squabble and pre-empt it through lecture or separation. I get bent out of shape when my timeline for the day is warped by not finding a child’s shoes where they should be (how many times have I told you to put it where it belongs…!). I accuse people of being inconsiderate for taking too long to say goodnight. You get the picture.

To me God says “Rest”. Take a break from the plans, the details, and the must-do’s. Lay down your management of relationships, your pursuit of perfection, your penchant for peace and allow His right relation, His perfection, allow His peacemaking to shine through. I must enjoy Jesus’ offering to befriend me in my imperfections; accept His invitation to give me His peace that transcends the sum of my circumstances. I let the wrinkles remain in the sheets today, it’s not the day to fix them. I make room in the disorganized space for the kids to sort things out themselves, for Jesus is with them too. I allow this day to shine in its given glory.


2016-11-02 13.10.06Kimberley Mulder is a contemplative at heart who deeply enjoys the company of Jesus in the day-to-day of caring for her family of 5 (plus a dog and a cat), teaching English to immigrants, growing her garden, and writing. Currently, her walk with Jesus is taking her more deeply into writing as she leads a spiritual formation group at her church, and records the reflections and connections Jesus gives her to share with others.  She treasures the truth that God’s Word does not go back to him without accomplishing the purpose for which he sent it, and that that Word is embodied in our lives. (Isaiah 55:11)

Sacred Mundane: A Book Excerpt from Kari Patterson

For our July book recommendation Anchored Voices is honored to be able to share a book excerpt from Kari Patterson’s new book Sacred Mundane now available at Amazon.

How Will You Run the Last Leg? 

Several years ago I ran in the world’s longest relay race, Hood-to-Coast. Our team was named “Girls and Guys with Aching Thighs,” and this was an apt description! It was an incredible experience, spending thirty hours in a van with six other sweaty runners, sleeping on the ground, running in the middle of the night, becoming fast friends in that surprisingly immediate way that only really uncomfortable circumstance can bring.

Sacred Mundane SidebarThere were twelve of us who ran three legs each, and I had the joy of being the last runner. This meant I ran the final stretch of the entire 200-mile race, stepping off pavement and onto sand, through the finish line.

I’ll never forget the feeling of finishing well, and the key was, I knew when the end of the race was near.

See, each leg of the race had a map, complete with elevation and course description. I had studied my legs. I knew that last one—how it would climb for a straight mile, then drop steeply at the end, then wind through the city of Seaside, then end up on the beach.

When I reached the steep descent, I knew it was time to pour it all out. My quads hurt so bad. Our team name wasn’t cute then—this was killin’ me! But there was no use holding back, no reason to save strength for later. I knew I’d never regret giving it my all. I ran as hard as I could.

When I saw the ocean, I can’t describe the joy in my heart. The view would have been breathtaking, but my breath was already taken. Thousands of people crowded on the beach, congratulating each other, an overwhelming celebration. What a glorious end!

My team was there too, my beloved friends, cheering me on through those final strides off the sidewalk and onto the sand and through the finish line. I was tired but overjoyed. I was so glad I had given it my all.

So glad I’d poured out.

Friends, we’re on the last leg.

Friends, Jesus is returning. Like, soon.

Now believe me, I am the furthest thing from an eschatology-obsessed, reading-Revelation-over-and-over, stockpiling-supplies-for-Armageddon kind of girl. Okay? I have zero interest in end-times arguments and pre-trib or post-trib camps.

This isn’t the time to huddle together under banners Jesus didn’t wave.

Jesus did give us some pretty specific instruction, however, and one of the most repeated was simply this: know the signs of the times.

Throughout the Gospels, Jesus exhorts us, “Stay awake.” He warns us that just as in the days of Noah, the end will come upon many when they least expect it. He gives us many clues to help discern when his return is near, a course map so to speak, and although no one knows the day, we do know the season.

We have a pretty clear description of the last leg. And Jesus says explicitly, “When these things begin to take place, straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (Luke 21:28).

Friends, our full redemption is drawing near. As I have been praying about this chapter, asking specifically what God wanted me to say, I heard this simple phrase over and over in my heart: “Tell them I’m coming soon.”

sacred mundane instaSo there. Jesus is coming soon. I have no definition of what “soon” is, but there is no way I’m ignoring this sense in my spirit, and I have seen dozens of things lining up in times recently that convince me our time here is coming to a close. I’ve seen the course description of this final stretch.

There’s a steep descent upon us, and it’s moments before the ocean opens up before us and we see the finish line.

These are the days for pouring out.

In the book of James, God gives a harsh indictment of the rich because they hoarded their resources instead of pouring them out for others. Specifically, James writes, “You have laid up treasure in the last days” (James 5:3). In other words, this is the time to pour out, not store up. Now is not the time to lay up treasures here on earth. Now is not the time to hold back, saving some for later.

These are the last days, a time for all to pour out, and our glorious God is going first.

We are seeing unprecedented outpouring of his Spirit on this earth in prophecy and signs, in miracles and movements. And we are also seeing darkness. We are seeing the chasm grow wide and the gradual separation between opposing kingdoms.

It’s becoming increasingly difficult to live lukewarm, and the fence won’t hold us up any longer. We have to pick a side. Those who choose Christ are given a precious and great promise: “In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people . . . and everyone who calls on the name of the Lord will be saved” (Acts 2:17, 21).

He’s been calling us to bear fruit, and it’s almost harvest time.

Now, let’s bring this full circle. My desire is that we would let our days transform our lives. That we’d dip down into our ordinary days in such a way that we are radically transformed from the inside out. That our mindsets change, our habits change, our marriages change, our budgets change, our lives change. Why? So we can bear fruit that nourishes those near and far and displays God’s glory for all to see. This is how we prepare for every ordinary Tuesday, and this is how we prepare for the glorious return of Christ. Jesus already promised he will commend those who were faithful with little, so our simple aim is to live our sacred mundane in a way that pleases him.

 


Kari PattersonExcerpt from Sacred Mundane: How to find freedom, purpose, and joy, available through Amazon or directly through www.karipatterson.com. Kari reaches thousands of women worldwide through speaking events and her popular blog, Sacred Mundane. She’s a pastor’s wife, homeschool mom, Bible teacher, mentor, and passionate seeker of truth. All royalties from the sale of this book will benefit World Vision’s work with women and children in need.

 

 

Driving Free

Author: Kate Franken

I couldn’t breathe. Every muscle tensed. My face turned hot and clammy. I could see myself driving off the bridge. I wanted to slam the brakes and runaway. And then, in my head, I saw all the cars hitting me from behind.

I wrestled against what I felt, despite its intensity, and steered myself off to the side of the highway, once I gradually made it over the bridge. And there I sat paralyzed with fear, trying to breathe. I eventually pushed myself back out onto the highway, knowing people were expecting me. I drove with trepidation, fearful of another panic attack.

Kate Franken Driving freeThis moment is so vivid for me, the feelings of having no control pulsed strong. It, among other panic attacks, sit locked in my memory, ready to haunt me whenever I drive bridges, busy highways, and always the freeway.

When this anxiety first surfaced a little over two years ago, I immediately tried to make sense of it. I however couldn’t make sense of it on my own. I didn’t understand people that had panic attacks. I didn’t understand how I could go from a fearless to a fearful driver almost overnight for no obvious reason.

Fortunately, over time, I made my hidden pain known, despite the overwhelming sense of shame the anxiety invoked. A friend with a biblical counseling repertoire and a brother pursuing a medical doctorate degree, have helped me piece together the root of this affliction. The year prior to the start of the panic attacks, I experienced a number of (small) incidents on the road in which control felt stripped from me. One was a near accident, in which the van in front of me hit ice and swung wildly over both lanes of the highway on a narrow overpass. I had to press forward and pray the van stayed in the other lane as I passed.

Twice, I was in a car that was rear-ended. Another accident occurred when a motorcyclist hit my rear tire as I pulled out from a store parking lot one night. I had looked both ways and had seen nothing. From my perception, the motorcyclist had come out from nowhere. It was questioned post-scene-of-the-accident, whether the motorcyclist had a headlight because none could be found in the pictures of the wrecked motorcycle. These occurrences combined have potentially given me a bit of post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD).

The Enemy ruthlessly attacked me in my weakness. I sought to get rid of the Devil’s foothold. I attempted the remedies for driving anxiety a Google search had rendered and the suggestions put forth by friends to no avail.

After a solid year of pushing myself to combat my fear, I gave up. I was tired of the panic attacks. They showed no sign of leaving. Back roads became my main means of going anywhere distant. I resigned to the belief that this affliction was my thorn. Like Paul, I had to accept that it wasn’t going to go away.

This mindset crippled me all the more. I’m certain the Enemy was wearing his evil grin as he saw me sink deeper into despair. But this is not where this story ends, for the Author of Freedom would not just let me be. He’s been faithful as I’ve endured this trial, using it for good. Great is my gratitude for all that He has shed light on as I’ve reached for freedom.

Driving free Kate FrankenI learned that fear and anxiety come about when we don’t trust that God is good. We are not living in obedience to God when fear and anxiety have a hold on us. For a professed believer, this can create feelings of shame, and thus the natural inclination is to believe a lie, to believe I can have both fear and anxiety and believe that God is good. But fear and anxiety will never loose its grip until you’re honest about your lack of trust in God. It’s when we are honest, that the Holy Spirit can then address the root issue.

My natural inclination to be self-sufficient and strong hinders me. When we are weak, He is strong. We need to lay down our fear and anxiety, and give it to the Lord. We can walk in the light when we stop pretending we’re not scared.

I  was impacted dramatically with the wisdom Apostle Paul imparts in Romans 12:12 “Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer.”

When I resigned to my anxiety being my thorn forevermore, I had quit hoping. But it’s only with a hope in God that we can prevail against the Enemy’s schemes. It is only when we hope in Him that the best stories of freedom are written.

For too long, I wanted to ignore my affliction, thus I wasn’t praying about it. We need to be relentless in our communing with Our Lord, to have greater truth spoken over our lives. Each time we get on our knees and seek Him, our world is reoriented as it should be, with Him at the center.

The freedom I now experience allows me to travel over bridges and busy highways fairly painlessly. I’m steadily regaining my ability to drive on the freeway, after a year’s absence. Knowing where I’ve been and where I am now, only God could have freed me from these chains. He is the one to seek if we long to be free.

 


kate-squareKate Franken is a 4th grade teacher and a volunteer coordinator at her church in Oregon. She enjoys indulging in raw conversation whilst savoring a cup or more of coffee. Her hunt for good books and podcasts is endless. She finds refuge surrounded by trees, on hiking trails, with her two dogs in tow. She is especially fond of mountaintop views, wit, “best teacher ever” love letters, breakfast, a painted sky, and Jesus. She has a heart for connecting people to His church and encouraging others into relationship with Him.