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I’ve always been a storyteller. It’s part of who God made me to be. Growing up, I’d sit at the dinner table, captivated by the stories my grandparents shared—snapshots of a time long past. As a child and teen, I crafted poems and chapters of books I never finished. Storytelling was my passion. It poured out of me whether I wanted it to or not. It was my way of feeling, processing, expressing. But then came a long season of brokenness. To protect myself, I built walls. I stopped feeling. And when I stopped feeling—I stopped writing. Because my words have always come from the heart. And yet… that longing to tell a story? It never left. As a single mom, I couldn’t afford professional photos of my kids. So I picked up a camera and started learning. And somewhere along the way, photography awakened something in me. I discovered a new way to tell stories. And then, I discovered light. I fell in love with light. I began to notice it everywhere— The way it sparkles on water when the sun is setting. The soft glow of it through a wispy white curtain. The way it softens or hardens facial features. The way it changes and creates color. The way it weaves a story of it's own. But more than that, I realized this: Light tells God's story too.  “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth… God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.” — Genesis 1:1–3 The very first thing God spoke into existence was light. It wasn’t just a physical necessity. It was a declaration. A beginning. A tone-setter for everything to follow. God’s first word to the world was light. What does that mean for us? It means light is more than beauty. More than energy. Light is spiritual. It’s divine. And that same divine light is meant to shine in us. Jesus, the Light of the World. In John 8:12, Jesus said: “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.” And in Matthew 5:14, He turns and says to us: “You are the light of the world.” What a powerful change following Jesus creates! We go from being in darkness to being called light in the Lord (Ephesians 5:8-9). And that light—His light—now shines through our lives. Paul expands on this in Ephesians, calling us to walk in goodness, righteousness, and truth. To live as children of the light. To reflect Christ in our thoughts, actions, and words.  How Do We Shine? Shining our light doesn’t require a platform. It doesn’t need a spotlight. It just needs a willing heart. Here are a few simple ways to be light in everyday life:
Light Tells a Story. Our lives are like living photographs—images that reflect the goodness and faithfulness of God. We are an album that can be opened daily by others. When we shine our light, people don’t just see us—they see Him. We are the city on a hill. The lamp on a stand. Called to shine in dark places, not for our own glory, but to glorify our Father in heaven (Matthew 5:14-16). Remember... We are God’s children. Light is in our spiritual DNA. The Gospel shines brightly in us. Yet, it is our daily choice—not just to follow Christ—but to either cover our light… or let it shine. May we realize the honor and the weight of this calling. May we embrace that we have been made to shine—for this time, this day, this moment. When we are awake and do not sleep, when we live in the day and not the night, the Light burns brightly on the lampstand and the city is ablaze on the hill. So let’s tell God's story through us. Let's light up the world. Blessings, Elizabeth 
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We are tentmakers. No, we may not sew shelters out of goat hair like Paul did—but make no mistake, if you’re a follower of Jesus, you are a tentmaker too. In Acts 18, we meet Paul in Corinth. There, he connects with Aquila and Priscilla—fellow tentmakers. They became fast friends. Why? Because they had something in common: they were tentmakers by trade. Together, they worked, ministered, and lived out the Gospel in the most ordinary and extraordinary ways. Paul’s occupation wasn’t just a necessity. It wasn’t a side hustle. I believe it was woven into his ministry.  Tentmaking in the ancient world wasn’t easy. It involved cutting and stitching tough cloth—called cilicium, from Paul’s home region—into strong, durable tents for travelers. Paul likely learned the trade as a young boy, maybe from his father, much like how Joseph taught carpentry to Jesus. This skill provided for his needs—but it also opened doors for discipleship. He made tents and made friendships. He used the sweat of his labor as a witness to the Gospel. Paul Did So Much More Than Make Tents. I just can’t imagine Paul stitching away without sharing Jesus. His passion to share the Gospel had to ooze out of him wherever he was. We already know that he discipled Aquila and Priscilla, who went on to disciple others, as they worked side by side. So, I can’t imagine Paul standing in that busy marketplace—overflowing with travelers from all over the world—and not using every opportunity to preach, pray, and plant seeds of truth. Who knows who walked through that marketplace, met Paul, and carried the Gospel to distant lands? And in Acts 19, we learn that even Paul’s aprons and handkerchiefs—used in his work—were instruments of healing. God used the very tools of his trade to perform miracles! (Want to learn more about Paul’s aprons, read this blog post here: Life. Hope. Faith. Wandering from Wilderness to Promis - Blue Jean Gypsy). That tells us something important: God can use even the most ordinary parts of your life for something sacred. Paul, Aquila, and Priscilla honored God through their daily work. They used their skills as a bridge to build relationships. They worked happily together. Their hands built tents, but their hearts built up the Church. Paul was never “just” a tentmaker. He was a builder of eternal homes. He was making space in people’s hearts for Jesus. And we are called to do the same. Our faith can be woven into our work, just as I believe Paul's was. You Are a Tentmaker, too. Did you know that? You may not sew fabric, but you are a tentmaker in the spiritual sense. Why? Because as a believer, you are a dwelling place for the Holy Spirit. You are both home and portable tabernacle, ready to go wherever God sends you. That means we carry His presence wherever we go. You carry His presence into your workplace, your home, your community, your kitchen, your errands, and your conversations. You are a vessel of light. A bringer of hope. A builder of the Kingdom. Let your work be worship. Let your tasks be testimony. And let your whole life be a witness to the Gospel.  So How Can You Be a Tentmaker?Here are a few simple, powerful ways:
You are a tentmaker. Therefore, pick up your tools—whatever they may be—and walk into your mission field with confidence. Whether you’re folding laundry, leading a meeting, planting seeds in your garden, or having coffee with a friend—God is at work through you. Let your life make room for Jesus in the hearts of others. So friend… Put on your apron. Tie the strings. Wipe your brow. And step forward. Because you are a tentmaker. And through you, God is building something eternal.  Reflection Questions: 1. What Does It Mean to Be a Tentmaker?
2. Service as Worship
3. Ministry in the Marketplace
4. Discipleship in Daily Life
5. Your Story & Your Testimony
6. The Holy Spirit in You
 “Paul wasn’t just making tents — he was making a home for Jesus in the hearts of people.” I’d love to hear from you. How are you serving others in this season of life? How have you seen God work through your everyday moments? Leave a comment below or message me directly—I’d love to pray for you and cheer you on. Blessings, Elizabeth  Recently, I took some photos of a tablescape for an upcoming blog post. I took the photos with both my camera and my phone. Why am I mentioning this? Because when I looked at both sets of photos, I was struck by something I hadn’t expected: the mood was entirely different between the two. One felt warm, soft, light, and inviting. The other? Harsher. Dark. A little moody. But here’s the thing—the table hadn’t changed. The decor hadn't changed. The lighting in the room hadn’t changed. The only thing that changed...was the lens.  Friend, isn’t that exactly how we experience life sometimes? The situation hasn't changed. The person hasn’t changed. The environment hasn't shifted. And yet, our perspective? Can become completely different. What we see is often colored not by truth, but by the lens we're looking through. Some days we see light. Other days, we see only shadows. Some days we see potential and promise. Other days, we only see problems and past wounds. The truth is, our experiences, disappointments, fears, and even past traumas often act as filters—distorting our view without us even realizing it. But here’s the good news: when we become aware of the lens, we can choose to change it. We can pick up a new one—not one tainted by emotion or assumption—but a lens crafted by the truth of God’s Word. A lens shaped by grace, forgiveness, and hope. A lens that sees people the way Jesus sees them. That sees our circumstances the way Heaven sees them. “Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience.” – Colossians 3:12 The light is steady and true. It always remains. When the light doesn't seem so bright, perhaps we have just picked up the wrong lens. So let me gently ask you today-- Is there someone you're looking at through a dark lens instead of a light one? Is there a situation that feels hopeless because you’ve forgotten to look at it through the eyes of faith? What would it look like to step back… and ask God to help you see again? Not with your pain. Not with your pride. Not even with your past. But with His heart. Ask Him to adjust your vision. Ask Him to help you lay down the lens of fear, bitterness, or cynicism-- And pick up the lens of truth, grace, and unshakable love. Because the table hasn’t changed. The Light is still shining. Maybe it’s just time to put on a brand new lens. Blessings, Elizabeth  Welcome back, friend. In Part 1 of this series, we talked about identifying the idols in our lives—the sneaky things that quietly steal our trust, affection, and attention away from Jesus. And if you haven’t read or listened to that yet, I encourage you to go back and do that first here: We uncovered the “what" last week. Now it’s time for the “how.” Because once God shows us the idols we’ve clung to—how do we actually let them go? How do we move forward with a heart that’s truly undivided, wholly devoted to Jesus? Let’s walk this out together, step by step.  1. Repent With Your Whole Heart This step isn’t about guilt or shame—it’s about returning. It’s about looking your Savior in the eyes and saying, “I’ve trusted in something else. I’ve made it more important than You. But I don’t want to live that way anymore.” Repentance is not punishment. It’s rescue. It’s how you come back home to the One who’s been waiting with open arms. “Return to me with all your heart,” declares the Lord. “With fasting and weeping and mourning.” – Joel 2:12 2. Unpack the Hidden Idols There’s a story in Genesis 31 that always comes to my mind when I'm doing a heart check. As Jacob leads his family back toward God’s promise, his wife Rachel secretly steals her father’s household gods. She hides them, carries them, and brings them on their journey to a new land, a new home, a new season. She was headed in the right direction—but still clinging to old idols. How many of us do the same? God calls us forward. And we say yes—but we also pack our fears, our control, our “just-in-case” gods. Friend, you can’t walk in freedom while hiding idols in your saddlebag. Even if they’re sentimental. Even if they’re “not a big deal.” If you want to live with an undivided heart, there’s no room for old gods. We need to unpack them to move forward. 3. Break free When King Hezekiah found the Israelites worshiping the bronze serpent—something that had once been a gift from God—he destroyed it. He broke it to pieces. Sometimes we have to do the same. What do you need to delete, step away from, or let go of? That friendship that pulls you away from Jesus? That role or ambition takes precedence over obedience? The relentless pursuit of youth—chasing the mirror, the trends, or the version of yourself you think will finally be “enough”? If it’s costing you intimacy with Christ—you need to break it. You need to destroy it into pieces.  4. Fast From It—and For Him Fasting is a powerful way to make space for Jesus. Maybe your idol is comfort. Or control. Or productivity. Fast from it. Let that hunger, the quiet, or the space lead you to the Word and to deep prayer. Fast not just to say “no” to something—but to say “yes” to Jesus. 5. Rebuild Intimacy with God When you tear down idols, it creates a space. A space that needs to be filled. And we need to fill it with holy and good things. Some ways we can start doing this are:
6. Let Others In For some of us, this might be hard to do. But we were not made to do this alone! Tell someone what God is doing in your heart. Let trusted, Jesus-loving friends walk with you. Accountability isn’t about shame—it’s about growth. So, we now know that we need to go to trusted friends, but what about when our friends come to us? “If someone is caught in sin, you who live by the Spirit should restore that person gently.” – Galatians 6:1 How can we gently hold our friends accountable and still support them? We can ask questions like:
 7. Keep Guarding Your Heart Idols don’t always die quietly. Sometimes, even after you’ve removed them, your heart will still crave them. And new idols can find their way into your heart. So stay awake. Stay surrendered. Ask the Holy Spirit often: “Is there anything I’m putting before You today?” And then choose Jesus again. Friend, here is the good news...God doesn’t just call us to lay our idols down—He helps us do it. He doesn’t just ask us to surrender—He fills the empty space with His presence, His peace, and His power. So today, choose Jesus over everything. Let Him take His rightful place on the throne of your heart. Pray With Me Lord, tear down every idol I’ve built with my own hands and heart. I surrender the things I’ve leaned on more than You. Show me how to live with an undivided heart—one that beats only for You. I choose You over everything. Amen. Blessings, Elizabeth Want to Go Deeper? I created a free set of printable worksheets to help you reflect, journal, and walk through this process with Jesus. You can download them here: And don’t forget—if you missed Part 1 of this series, go check that out below.
Let’s keep choosing Jesus—again and again. Is there something you’ve put your faith in more than God? Maybe you’re not entirely sure. Or maybe something inside you quietly says, “Yes.” If so, this is for you... Let me take you to a story you might have read before but perhaps never lingered on. It’s about King Hezekiah. He was one of the few kings of Judah who truly honored God. But it’s not Hezekiah’s life that I want to talk about today. It’s something he did. Something bold. Something courageous. And at first it seems a bit strange: He broke Moses’ bronze serpent into pieces. Wait. What bronze serpent? And why would he do such a thing? And what on earth does this have to do with your life right now? Stay with me. I promise it matters.  Let’s go back to Numbers 21. The Israelites were still wandering in that seemingly never-ending wilderness. They had been on that journey for quite some time. They were tired, frustrated, and worn down. Maybe, like them, you’ve been on some long journeys of your own. Maybe you’ve seen God's provision, His protection, His preservation—and, yes, even His victories—but still found yourself feeling impatient along the way. I know I can relate. The Israelites wanted the journey to be over. And in that tiredness and frustration, their questions turned into complaints. They said cried out: “Why did you bring us out of Egypt just to die out here in the wilderness?” Have you ever felt like that? Ever wondered why God led you to a place that feels empty, exhausting, or just plain hard? Have you ever questioned God’s plan? Have you ever asked something like… "God, why did You lead me here? Why this path?" "Why does this season feel so dry, so long?" I know I have. Those are real questions. Valid questions. But for the Israelites, their “why” wasn’t about understanding anymore. It became about frustration. Complaining. Forgetting. They couldn’t appreciate the manna. They couldn’t remember the miracles. They couldn’t see that the journey wasn’t just about the destination. So, their grumbling grew louder. And as they grumbled, the Lord sent poisonous serpents among them. Many were bitten. Some even died. It was only after this tragedy that the people came to Moses, repenting. They asked him to intercede. In His great mercy, God told Moses: “Make a snake image and mount it on a pole. When anyone who is bitten looks at it, he will recover.” (Num. 21:8) So Moses made a bronze serpent. And just as God promised, those who looked at it in faith were healed.  That’s why the Israelites kept the bronze serpent. That’s why they carried it into the Promised Land. It reminded them of God’s protection. His forgiveness. His mercy. And it became a powerful symbol for Israel. But over time, something changed. Generations later, that very symbol became an idol. They forgot it was God who saved. They forgot the story. They forgot the maker. Instead of remembering the God who healed, the people began to worship the thing He used. And just like with the golden calf, they began to worship the bronze serpent itself. They burned incense to it. They gave it a name. They put their trust in a piece of metal. That’s when King Hezekiah stepped in. He destroyed it-not just removed it-broke it into pieces. Why? Because it had to be. If left whole, it would be worshipped again.  Here’s where it gets personal and I have to ask: Is there something you’ve begun to trust more than God? Something that was once a blessing… but has slowly become the thing you rely on instead of Him? Is there something you’ve elevated-even unintentionally-above Him? Something that’s more important to you? Something, or someone, you trust to save you, bring peace, make things better? Sometimes the very things God gives us-gifts meant to sustain, encourage, or guide-become golden calves or bronze serpents. We begin to fix our eyes on the means instead of the Giver. These things might even be something good. Something God gave you to provide for you, or protect you. But the thing itself? It was never meant to carry the weight of your worship. So let me ask again: What is your bronze serpent? Maybe it’s your own strength. Your intellect. Advice from others. A relationship. Your career. Health. Medicine. Money. Ministry. Food. Exercise. Comfort. Security. The list could go on and on. And sometimes, the very blessings God gives us can become the very things we start to put our trust in more than Him.  Interestingly, Jesus Himself referenced the bronze serpent. In John 3:14-15, He said: “Just as Moses lifted up the snake in the wilderness, so the Son of Man must be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in Him may have eternal life.” Jesus wasn’t praising the bronze snake. He was using the image to point to something greater. He was using it to point to Himself. The cross is a beautiful, powerful symbol. But the wood didn’t save us. It’s what Jesus did on that cross that saves us. Just like it wasn’t the bronze serpent that healed the Israelites, it’s not the symbols of faith, nor our rituals, or our efforts, that heal. Jesus heals. We may not be physically wandering the wilderness outside the Promised Land—but many of us are in our own dry seasons, feeling far from God’s promises. We face fears, disappointments, confusion, and pain. The serpents of this world slither at our feet. Some only to scare us, but some strike deep. But God didn’t leave us in a wilderness of vipers to die. In His mercy, He gave us Jesus. It is time to Break the Bronze. If there’s a “bronze serpent” in your life, something you’re clinging to, hoping in, idolizing. Don’t be afraid to break it. Even if it started as something good, it’s not meant to take the place of God. Smash it before it grows roots. Before you start to burn incense to it, even without realizing it. Let’s remember, again and again:
So today, let’s ask ourselves honestly: What have I placed my trust in more than God? And if there’s anything in our lives that’s starting to take His place-even something that started as a blessing-may we have the courage to break it into pieces. Before it breaks our focus. Before it steals our worship. Before it becomes our bronze serpent. So that we don’t worship the method instead of the Maker. May we always remember: Remember why we’re on this journey. Remember who carried us this far. Remember that it’s not our strength that carries us, our plans that heal us, or our symbols that save us. It is, and has always been, Jesus. Blessings, Elizabeth Lord, help me to see anything I’ve placed above You. Help me to recognize when I’ve started to trust in something other than You-- even if it’s something You once gave me. Teach me to remember. To put my faith fully in You. To worship only You. And to break anything that’s taken Your place. Amen. Prefer to listen to the podcast? You can listen to the Blue Jean Gypsy Podcast here: Your heart was made to be wholly His. Don’t miss Part Two where we go deeper into how to actually tear down those hidden idols and walk in freedom.
I am not a minimalist. Not in any way, shape or form. My family actually laughed when I told them that the subject I was going to be writing about was decluttering. My daughter even teasingly went as far as to say that I like to hoard things. I certainly do not, I would call myself a "collector". At least I do not hoard "things", anyway. But there is something I do hoard. It is a quiet, little secret I keep. No one knows it is there...  We moved recently. For those of you who have ever moved, you know it is a great time to purge all the old, unneeded things in your closets, your cupboards, your basement, your garage. A perfect time to minimize what you take with you to your new home. So that is what I spent several months doing. Going through it all-deciding what should be kept and what should be gotten rid of. So what is it that I discovered during this time that I hoard? My family might guess it is candles, or washi tape, flea market finds, or all my children's artwork. But it's not. It is something less tangible. Something that often steals my peace. Steals my purpose at times. And perhaps you hoard it too.... Maybe you haven't moved, but perhaps you are decluttering some closets, storage spaces, or cabinets. Maybe, like me, you have gone through buried boxes of memories and trinkets. And maybe, just maybe, you are starting to realize there is more to declutter in your life than just closets. I realized that while all these "memories" were out of sight, they were still there. So no, I don't hoard washi tape or flea market finds. I don't even hoard those letters and trinkets. What I found was that I do hoard the shame and hurtful words that have been spoken to me in some of them. I have kept them secret. Guarded them carefully. Refusing to let go, allowing them to be etched on a name plate that somehow tells me that is who I am. I hoard them into my heart. And as they build up, all jam-packed in there, they squeeze out room for Jesus. They squeeze out space for light, for truth, for an identity in Christ.  I started to feel a little nudge the more I thought about it. Do you feel one too? A gentle prodding that it is time to move, time to throw away all those things that are not good, not true, unkind, and shameful? A nudge that propels us to pitch them into a dumpster and make space for what the Lord wants to fill us with? We can declutter everything around us and yet forget to do the same within us. And when we forget our heart in this cleaning process, we impede the transforming God wants to do in our lives. Paul clearly tells us in Philippians 4:8 about the importance of our innermost thoughts, "Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things." Let those words be a soft, gentle nudge to encourage us all to make space. To clean out our hearts. To think on what is true and toss out the lies we have been fed or the ones we tell ourselves. To throw away the "you're not good enough"s or the "I am not pretty"s. To toss out the "unloveable"s and the "unforgiveable"s. To once and for all pitch into the dumpster all the "should have done"s, all the wordly comparisons of what we should look like, what we should have accomplished. To release all the expectations of perfect parenting, all the the things that have happened in our pasts that have labeled us or have caused us to label ourselves. To Make space. To leave only thoughts that are good and right and true and fill our hearts with Jesus. To leave a space wide open to fill it with these simple truths: I am redeemed (Romans 3:24) I am chosen (Ephesians 1:4) I am forgiven (Ephesians 1:7) I am loved (Jeremiah 31:3) I am wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14) I am a child of God (John 1:12) I am firmly rooted and built up in Christ (Colossians 2:7) I am God's workmanship (Ephesians 2:10) I cannot be separated from the love of God (Romans 8:35) I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength (Philippians 4:13)  I don't know what hurtful words or memories that are still held in your heart, allowing them to take up room, but today? Today, let's take a step together in making new the home of our hearts. Let's start with tossing out just a few things first and begin filling it with peace, an identity in Christ, and the all-surpassing love of God that belongs to each of us!
"Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." Proverbs 4:23 Blessings, Elizabeth The hard stuff. You know those insecurities we don't like to talk about? The ones we push down and want to forget? The ones that follow us and we don't want to let the world know about? That is often the insecurity we need the most freedom from. Now, I could give you a list of my insecurities, but there is one that is a little harder to put out there than any other. A little harder, for me, to place in front of the world. Why? Because it holds me back. Holds me back from kingdom work, from stepping into my calling, from stepping out of my comfort zone. And just maybe I am not the only one who needs freedom from this type of insecurity...  It was true. I had lost my faith. I had suffered a trauma and I was angry and I ran. Ran from the pain. Ran from hope. Ran from God. And years later? I ran back to His good and open arms that had never stopped waiting for me. A few years ago, someone from my past threw this fact in my face as a means to hurt me. They told me they did not believe I had any faith now because I had run in the past. They told me my faith was a lie. I'd like to write that those words didn't bother me. But they did. I'd like to say those words didn't plant seeds of insecurity in my faith and in my calling. But they did. I stood tall and faced them with as much grace as I could muster at the time, but after? That seed turned into a sprout of insecurity - telling me my faith was not good enough. That it was tainted; not genuine. And then...  Roots started to grow in the wrong direction. I started to question if my past was too big (or my faith too small) for the calling placed in front of me. Doubt was planted whether my words could give hope, whether I was right for the task, whether I was worthy of the work, and even if my faith was strong enough to face the potential trials ahead. Those roots were on the verge of spreading and deepening towards greater insecurity in my calling, rather than who I am in Christ and what God can do. But in this season, the cross shone ever before me. Instead of losing faith, instead of running, instead of depending on me and letting those insecurities take over...l looked to GOD. I RAN to the cross and looked up to the light shining out from it. I began to spread my roots toward Christ, instead of the insecurity that offered nothing - the insecurity the enemy wanted to use to soak up my Christ-established identity and stop me from saying "yes" to the work God was calling me to. And you know what? It was in this season that my faith was strengthened, and I felt God's faithfulness overwhelmingly. It was those same words that tried to bury me with insecurity that really sparked me to dig deeper into my faith. It is out of that season that I began to write more intentionally. That I said yes with a renewed fervor. And it is out of that season that I truly accepted the calling placed in front of me. "For it is God who works in you to his will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose." Philippians 2:13, NIV No matter what type of calling it is, when we put our heart out there, insecurity can set in. We may even be scrutinized. Maybe judged. Perhaps disagreed with. But that's ok. Don't let insecurity stop you. Jesus said these things may happen. "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33, NIV Perhaps today, it is not even insecurity in your calling, but just in the future in general. Each of these trials is an opportunity to depend on Christ. Each of these opportunities give us a chance to dig our roots deeper in a secure identity as a child of God.  And now, each time that insecurity creeps in?
I know where to nail it. There is a cross ever before me, may it be before you, too. And each time I feel like giving up, each time I think I am not enough, each time I worry that my past is greater than my future, each time I feel that insecurity try to hook me in.... I take that insecurity and I nail it to the cross where it belongs. Because for a moment I may forget, but ultimately, I know that Jesus... Welcomes back the lost. Covers our sins. Turns ashes into beauty. Uses what has hurt us for good and for His Glory. Never leaves or forsakes us. And He equips us! If you are thinking you are not worthy of your calling, if the future looks uncertain, unknown....remember this: God knows what He is doing. He called you for a reason, He knew this season would happen. He will lead you, and equip you. All for His good purpose. "May he equip you with all you need for doing his will. May he produce in you, through the power of Jesus Christ, every good thing that is pleasing to him. All glory to him forever and ever! Amen." Hebrews 13:21, NLT May we all nail our insecurities at the cross each time they start to creep in, and then watch with expectation, the work He will do in each of us. Blessings, Elizabeth Is there a knock you have been ignoring? One you are afraid to answer? One you know you should answer, but you have a hundred reasons why now is “not a good time”? Are you even listening?  A few nights ago, I fell asleep on the couch (which isn’t too unusual for me) and forgot to set the alarm on my phone. At the precise time I should have set my alarm for (4:40am), I heard a loud knock-knock on the front door. It woke me up, startled me really. No one knocks on the door this time of the morning! It caused me to sit up, take notice of the darkness around me, and beckoned me to investigate who was at the door. I took action when I heard that knock. I woke up, got up, went to the door, investigated it, and opened it. There was no one there. At least not that I could see. I tell this story not because of who was or wasn't at the door, but rather because when I heard the knock, I didn't ignore it, I didn't roll over and go back to sleep, I didn't lay there in fear wondering what was on the other side, I didn't let someone else go to the door. I took action. I answered the call.  Do we do the same when God knocks at the door of our heart? When He calls us down a certain path? When He knocks on the door of an opportunity that we can't quite see the end result of? When He calls us to step out in faith, beyond our comfort zone?
The Bible clearly shows us over and over again, that God wants us to be an ACTIVE part of His plan and purpose. He wants us to take ACTION. He wants us to listen. Get up. Go to the door. And open it. I don’t know if God is knocking softly or loudly on your door. I don't know what is on the other side of that door for you. But I know who does. And you can trust HIM. Whether we answer the knock or not, God's purpose and plan will prevail. We just miss out on being an active part of it... If Noah hadn't listened to the "knock", he wouldn't have built the ark, and wouldn't have been able to rise above the flood. If Moses hadn't answered the "knock", he would not have parted the red sea, he would have remained in the palace. If Abraham hadn't answered the "knock", his family tree would look very different. If David hadn't answered the "knock", he wouldn't have defeated any giants. He wouldn't have become king. If Elijah hadn't answered the "knock", he wouldn't have been able to help the widow, or raise a child up from death. If Paul hadn't answered the "knock", he wouldn't have spread the Gospel like he did. If Peter hadn't answered the "knock", he would still be fishing... When you hear a knock today, will you get up and answer it? Will you be listening for it? Blessings, Elizabeth A heart to heart conversation can be difficult. Sharing scars and hurt is not easy. But we are called to share our life story for the benefit of others, and for our own hearts as well.  A few weeks ago, as we were driving to church, my husband, my younger boys and I had a conversation in the car. We discussed what a testimony was: our personal story of how we came to know, believe, and trust in the Lord. My husband asked them to give a little testimony of their own and they each did so. Then they asked us what our testimonies were. To be quite honest, I was taken a little aback by this, not thinking they would want to hear mine as well. While I have given my testimony to other women, even given it front of groups of people, sharing it with my boys seemed even more intimidating, more personal. I didn't feel equipped for it in that very moment. My husband shared his testimony with our boys, beautifully, in a way that was perfect for their age and understanding. When they asked me next, I told them I would share it a different day. "What is your testimony?" It was a question I was not quite prepared to answer, at least to my children. But it is an important question to be asked. So, I ask you the same question: What is your testimony? Have you shared it with your children? Remembrance is an important theme in the Bible. God knows us humans forget easily. Our story is God's story. It helps remind us about who God is, what He has done for us, and who we are in Him. If we forget our story? We forget who we are. We forget whose we are. Passing down our story to future generations is important so that WE remember, and so they can hear about God at work in the lives of real people. Their family. And it becomes a part of their story as well. Moses told the next generation over and over about what God had done. He didn't want them to forget. In Deuteronomy, when he gave his last and final address to the Israelites, it could have been about so many different things. But what he wanted to etch on their hearts was the importance of remembrance. To never forget what God had done. To tell the story. Their story. To share it with future generations. "Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them fade from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them." Deuteronomy 4:9  Maybe you don't feel ready. Or prepared. I didn't either. Maybe you don't know how to tell it in a way that is understandable or age appropriate. I didn't either. But the question nagged at my heart. And I knew I needed to have a heart to heart conversation with my boys. No matter how difficult, I needed to sit them down at the table, and share how God has worked in my life. How I came to know Him and trust Him. If you are like me, and your story is a difficult one, take a moment to truly consider a way to share it with your children. That is what I have been doing over the last few days. And I decided that this month (February), the month of "love", would be a perfect time to tell them my testimony. To talk to them about the amazing love that our Father has for each of us. To express to them His love displayed in my own life. Although I do not feel equipped, God WILL equip me. He will do the same for you. So, before this month is over, I am going to be obedient. I am going to do the difficult. I am not only going to remember what God has done in my life, but I am going to share it with my boys. I am going to remember the great, faithful, sacrificial love of a God who sent His Son. Who sent His Son to redeem. To save. To set free. To give life-abundantly and eternally. There is no greater story to tell. No greater love to celebrate. Let me encourage you to take a moment, sit down at the table and have a heart to heart conversation with your kids, your grandchildren, your nieces or nephews, a child your mentoring. Tell them your story. Tell them about the priceless love Jesus offers them too. "When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you. Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God, failing to observe his commands, his laws and his decrees that I am giving you this day. Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud and you will forget the Lord your God, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery." Deutoronomy 8:10-14 Blessings, Elizabeth Scroll down for images of a heart themed tablescape idea!         Fallen. I have fallen more times than I care to admit. Fallen into a "little" sin that seemed to creep in without me realizing it. Fallen quietly without anyone noticing but me. But other falls? They have been not so tiny. They have been not so private. And they have been not so quiet. We all fall. And whether our "fall" is quiet or deafening, whether it is gradual or rapid, whether it is private or public - the exposing of it can leave us feeling raw; vulnerable; ashamed. Sometimes even hopeless.  I imagine that's how the adulteress felt in John 8 (take a moment to read this chapter if you haven't before). She was a woman caught in the midst of her sin of adultery. Brought by the teachers of the law and the Pharisees to the temple where Jesus was teaching. Brought into the crowd. Brought to a public place. Possibly physically uncovered and exposed. Most certainly emotionally raw, and vulnerable. And more than that I am sure she felt... Humiliated. Shamed. Her sin was proclaimed in front of everyone she knew - neighbors, peers, perhaps even family and friends. And then, while probably in the most humiliating and regretful moment of her life...she was placed in front of, perhaps even thrown at, the feet of Jesus. Our own sin can place us here as well. When the mask is ripped off, when its revealed, when we no longer can run from it...we often find ourselves at the feet of Jesus. There in that place, a place she could not run from, turn from, or hide from, they asked Jesus what her punishment should be. A question we perhaps ask Him in this place too. When we uncover the sin of others. When our own sin in uncovered.  The Mosaic Law stated she should be stoned for her adultery. I imagine her breathing was labored, or maybe it even stopped for a moment, as she waited with trepidation for the death sentence she anticipated. A feeling many of us can relate to as we feel our own mistakes are beyond repair. A sinking feeling deep in our soul. And as she was before Jesus, eyes perhaps pleading for mercy, she did not hear the words, "stone her". No, such punitive words did not come from Jesus. Instead, He bent down and wrote with his finger on the ground twice and said this.... John 8:6-8 NIV "But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground." Not one of them was sinless. And each one left without casting a stone. After they had all gone, the woman, whom I am sure felt tattered and broken and alone, was left there with Jesus. It was there is that space, in that chasm of brokenness, frailty and humiliation, that she was forgiven. Forgiveness didn't need to be spoken from her peers, her neighbors, or the Pharisees. Nor did it need to spoken in front of them. It needed to be spoken in that moment when it was just her and Jesus. A moment in which she saw Him and nothing else. A moment when everything else around her stilled except the beat of her heart as she waited to hear what her redeemer would say. A forgiveness that came from HIM. And we, when we are left alone with Jesus, whether the world has cast stones at us or not, whether we have cast them at ourselves.....we, when we are left alone with Jesus, with just our repentant, exposed hearts....we are forgiven too.  I have been at the feet of Jesus. Broken. Ashamed. Exposed. I have been at the feet of Jesus waiting for an answer. And He has lifted me up off my knees with His love and redemption. And He will do this for you, too. I don't know what Jesus wrote on the ground. The passage does not tell us this. But I imagine it was one of the following words, words that your heart may need whispered to it today: GRACE. FORGIVEN. LOVED. REDEEMED. Whatever it was He wrote...it was erased. Erased by Jesus himself, erased by the wind, erased by the trampling of feet or by time. But these words? GRACE. FORGIVEN. LOVED. REDEEMED. Hear them today. These words? When He writes them on our hearts as we seek forgiveness from Him? They are not written in dust or dirt, but with the redemptive power of the cross! And that cannot be erased! Whatever it is you have been afraid to expose, whatever you might think is unredeemable, whatever hurts to lay bare....lay it at the feet of Jesus. Place it at the cross. For Jesus didn't ask the adultress why she did what she did. He didn't ask what else she had done. He didn't ask her what she could have done to prevent the sin. He simply said, “Go now and leave your life of sin.” (John 8:11 NIV)  I hope the woman was able to leave that sin there in the very spot it was exposed. I hope she stepped out into a new life that reflected a redemptive light and a changed heart.
Why? Because it is my hope for each of us. A hope that we accept the beautiful, free gift that cost Jesus so much. A hope that we accept the forgiveness that He offers, that we embrace a new heart and a new start; stepping into a life that seeks to live righteously-casting off the past to be deeply rooted in Christ. Blessings, Elizabeth 1 Peter 1:18-19 "For you know that it was not with perishable things such as silver or gold that you were redeemed from the empty way of life handed down to you from your ancestors, but with the precious blood of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect." |
Meet ElizabethWife. Mother. Writer. Photographer. Child of God. Encouraging others in faith through a lens of grace and seeing beauty in the ashes. Archives
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