Only Jesus

“Just pray for God to heal me.” My mom’s words crackle across an international phone line in 2006. 

I sit in a living room on the other side of the world.

Six months ago, my mom almost died from an illness the doctors couldn’t pinpoint. But now after seeing a specialist, we know it’s a rare disease. The physician’s prognosis isn’t great—five quality years of life.

I nod my head. Words tangled together in my throat. I want nothing more than my mom’s health to be restored. A tear trickles down my cheek.

After finishing the phone call, the Holy Spirit whispers a surprising word, “Don’t pray for healing. Pray for her to delight in Jesus more than anything else.”

This instruction went against every fiber of my being.

And the prophet Jonah understood this dilemma all too well.

LEANING INTO THE UNEXPECTED

In the book of Jonah, God commanded the prophet Jonah to go to the city of Ninevah and tell the people to repent. But instead of obeying, Jonah high tailed it in the exact opposite direction and ended up in the belly of a big fish.

Even inside the fish, Jonah didn’t repent. He praised God for rescuing him, but refused to ask forgiveness for disobeying the Lord’s command. The prayer of Jonah revealed his own sinful, selfish heart: God’s mercy extended to him was acceptable, but not to wicked people like the Ninevites.

The root issue for Jonah was failing to understand how great God is and His incredible worth to be worshipped by all nations (Isa. 49:6). God invited Jonah into glimpsing this beautiful truth, but he stubbornly refused.

Jonah’s heart remained unchanged even after a big fish swallowed him. If Jonah confessed his disobedience, then I think his sinful belief that God’s mercy was only for the Israelites would’ve been uncovered and dealt with.

But that’s not the story of Jonah recorded in Scripture.

And the same can be true for us as well. We can fail to repent of sin revealed when we walk through difficulties and thereby miss the reward God intended.

The inclination for the Lord to heal my mom wasn’t wrong, but in this particular situation the path to best make God’s name great involved praying a different prayer. Taking a path I didn’t like.

OBEDIENCE MATTERS

The opportunity to obey God and pray something else was an invitation to taste and see Jesus in new ways—even if I was initially skeptical.

The temptation to ignore (disobey!) this prompt was strong. At the time, I’d just graduated from college and was single. My mom wanted to see me get married and have kids. I wanted to support my mom in whatever ways possible, especially as an ocean now separated us.

Praying a prayer that didn’t ask for her life to be extended or to be healed from her illness flew against this good desire. Why would the Lord ask me to do such a thing?

But this desire now stood in opposition to what the Lord had asked me to pray. Doubt filled my heart. Did I care more about our lives being comfortable than honoring the Lord?

Despite my uncertainty, I prayed for my mom to treasure Jesus above all else. At first, it was difficult. But day-by-day, week-by-week, month-by-month, the power and beauty of this prayer unfolded before my eyes.

My mom’s faith deepened. She no longer coveted healing above all else. Instead, she rooted her heart in the steadfast love of Christ.

Even 20 years later, the lesson God taught me through praying a counterintuitive prayer in obedience remains etched in my heart: Nothing else satisfies but Jesus.

Not health. Not my way.

Only Jesus.

REFLECTION QUESTIONS

• How has God’s path sometimes differed from your own?
• What does obedience look like in how the Lord’s leading you today?

Lord, we confess we’re often more like Jonah and think somehow we know more than you do. Forgive us, Lord. Help us to follow you in obedience each and every day, even when the path is uncomfortable and counterintuitive. May we not miss a chance to grow in our faith and watch you work in beautiful ways. Remind us again and again that only Jesus can satisfy our hearts. Amen.

When God's Already Provided

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change." (James 1:17)

Growing up, I relished the sweet fragrance of lilacs that threaded its way through our kitchen window each spring. Our backyard was home to three different varieties of lilacs and spring was their moment to shine.

I always wanted to have at least one lilac tree whenever we bought a house. But my 20s and 30s were filled with rental homes—so I would walk to homes in my neighborhood where lilacs blossomed each spring to get my lilac-fill.

When we purchased our first house this past summer, the listing mentioned having lilac trees. But when I asked the realtor and former owners, no one was sure where they would be—if they were on our property at all.

As our porch was covered in greenish-yellow pollen this past spring, I decided it was time to buy a single lilac tree. When I returned home from the nursery with my lilac tree, I walked around our property to find a good spot to plant it. And that’s when I noticed them—three lavender lilac trees blooming. I couldn’t believe it! Over the next couple of weeks, I would discover our yard was home to 18 lilac trees!

Here I was thinking I needed to make something happen, but God had already provided more lilacs than I could have asked for!

Sometimes we can miss how God is already giving us a good gift because we’re focused on what we should do to make something happen. Our Heavenly Father delights in reminding us of His love and provision.

Catch full devotion on MARKINC.

Quieting Our Souls

“But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.” (Psalm 131:2)

My heart sank as I read the article title on my computer screen. Why hadn’t I thought of that idea? Of course the author wrote a stellar piece. Again. I sighed. I couldn’t even bring myself to read it.

Jealousy weaved its way through my body like a viper’s bite. I knew better than to compare myself. But the poison was already doing its awful work. Sure we weren’t in competition with each other. But somehow, I felt inadequate in every possible way.

Anger boiled inside my heart like a tea kettle. I was trying so hard to be good enough. But I perpetually found myself falling short. Rather than keeping my eyes on the next right step, I was digressing into despair. And this path led nowhere but down.

When we start playing the comparison game or feel we aren’t getting what we think we should, we land ourselves in a heap of discontentment—and create the perfect storm for bitterness to take root in our hearts.

The psalmist reminds us that when jealousy and selfish ambition rears its ugly head, we should take the path of humility. Sometimes in our striving, we can miss out on the most important gift of all: trust and joy in the Lord.

Read the full devotion on MARKINC.

A Lesson From a Puppy: Training Our Hearts to Look Upon Jesus

“Hobbes, look!” I command my 8-month-old labradoodle. I clutch a small dog treat in my right hand and move my hand to my upper cheek, just below my eye.

My puppy watches the treat with rapt brown eyes and sits. Then he shifts a quick glance my direction. “Yes,” I say before rewarding him with the treat.

This past week, I joined a beginner’s dog obedience class with my puppy, Hobbes. One of the first commands we worked on was, “Look!” And I’m beginning to realize the magic of this simple command.

When I’m out for a walk with my pup and something catches his attention, I can instruct him to look at me instead. This slows down his momentum and hyper-focus on what’s distracting him. Sometimes it doesn’t work and Hobbes ignores my command, deciding to forgo a treat to pursue what he wants in that moment. But when he obeys, he redirects his focus where it should be—walking with me—rather than chasing after a distraction.

I’m learning in these early training days that merely getting him to comply isn’t enough in the heat of a distraction. Hobbes can quickly launch back into distraction mode. I’ve discovered when I need to redirect his focus and he obeys, if I kneel down and pet him—so that Hobbes has to linger in the moment—the lure of said distraction fades.

And oh how this lesson rings true in my own life. Jesus beckons me to Himself and often I respond like my puppy. I either go through the motions so I can launch immediately back to what I was doing or ignore the invitation altogether.

But when I truly accept Christ’s call to gaze upon Him and linger there, the pull of that distraction decreases and I’m better positioned to connect with my Savior. Whether my mind is buzzing with all I have to get done today, concern for my child, or discerning my next step, Jesus is beckoning.

“Dear one, look!” He whispers.

Jesus wants us to fix our eyes on Him, not our mounting obstacles or to-do list. When we do so, our perspectives are realigned with how we should respond—trust in our King, rather than frantic chasing. Focusing on Jesus first keeps us in step with Him and relying upon His strength, not our own.

When my mind swirls with the responsibilities that life brings my way, I too must be trained to look at my Savior.

According to the dog trainer, over time Hobbes won’t need a small treat or even a hand gesture with the command. With enough consistency, he’ll respond to my simple command, “Hobbes, look!” 

And like the dog trainer’s smooth collie who sits at her feet waiting for his master’s direction, one day Hobbes may not need the command anymore because he’ll cultivate focus for what I want him to do.

Oh how I long for the day I don’t even need a quiet invitation from Jesus! I long to be the woman who by God’s grace has trained herself daily to look upon Him and wait for his instructions, rather than being pulled along by the pressures and noisiness each day brings. 

May we train our hearts to turn to Jesus and wait in earnest expectation—one day, one hour, one minute, one second at a time.

Looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:2)

I lift my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come? My help comes from the Lord, who made heaven and earth. (Psalm 121:1,2)

A Cycle of Prayer

"Spend a lot of time in prayer. Always be watchful and thankful." 

(Colossians 4:2, NIrV)

As my boys and I study the book of Colossians together, I was struck by this verse and its translation. Three things stood out to me as I paused to reflect on this powerful piece of Scripture.

First, the fuel for prayer is gratitude. If our hearts overflow with gratefulness for how Jesus has redeemed us, then our hearts will be compelled to praise our Creator and maintain regular communication with Him throughout our days.

Second, as a Christian prayer should be as natural as grabbing our morning coffee (or tea!) to start our day. We should have conversations with the Lord as we notice a neighbor walking her dog, drop off our kids at school, struggle to parent, or spy a bird searching for worms from our window. Prayer should encompass our entire day. And these prayers entail praising God for who He is as well as lifting up others we encounter and asking for His help.

Three, the only way we can cultivate a lifestyle of prayer is through intentionality. We can tend our hearts and disciple ourselves to turn to Jesus throughout our day over and over. Perhaps we set timers on our phones to remind ourselves. Or maybe we have certain times each day we'll pause. Maybe having Scripture placed at strategic places in our homes and cars can help point us toward prayer. But what better way to turn our gaze back to our beloved Savior than to reflect on His greatness?

This verse reveals a cycle for prayer: as we praise Jesus our heart is stirred to praise Him and converse with Him as we go about our daily rhythms. As we continue to reflect on His greatness, we are compelled to keep talking with Him. Let's train our hearts to be in communion with our Lord as we walk through our days.

Lord Most High, stir our affections for you. May we delight in you more than anyone or anything else. May our hearts overflow with joy and gladness at how great you are. Teach us to cultivate prayer through meditating on your greatness and conversing with you throughout our days. Help us to be intentional and turn our focus to you so we aren't consumed by lesser things. May we "seek [your] presence continually! [And] remember the wondrous works [you] have done" (Ps. 105: 4, 5). Thank you that "you remain the same, and your years will never end" (Ps. 102:27). Amen.

Glimpsing God's Majesty

Wow. I murmured in awe as I gazed at the twinkling stars late one Wednesday evening. I had forgotten early tomorrow morning was trash and recycling day. And while I grumbled about stumbling around in the dark—we live outside town limits without lights—I was distracted by the stunning beauty above me.

I meandered toward the middle of the road to gain a fuller view of the dazzling nighttime display. I identified the customary childhood favorite constellations—the Big Dipper and Orion’s Belt. My mind turned away from my own thoughts and toward the Creator.

“Oh Lord, our Lord, how majestic is your name in all the earth,” I whispered (Ps. 8:1). And in the middle of the road, I worshiped the Creator of the stars.

Since our relocation from the Midwest to the West, I was lost in an endless loop of what needed to be done next. But within a minute, the Lord recalibrated me to His eternal perspective. Stargazing reminded me of my smallness and pointed toward His greatness. And it was exactly what I needed.

When we are forced to look up toward the Lord and away from our circumstances, we catch glimpses of the majesty and goodness of our Creator. And as we gaze at the moon and stars, we can marvel that God cares about us (Ps. 8:3–4) in the midst of the craziness. 

But we must be alert to the gentle ways He speaks of His majesty. A buzzing hummingbird. A citrus sunset. The scent of lilac wafting through the air. A soft breeze on a warm day.  Too often I can overlook these simple reminders.

Whether we are struggling to keep up as a new school year unfolds or feeling the weight of loneliness, God sees us and wants us to draw near to Him. The Lord meets us wherever we are and delights our hearts with glimpses of His majesty. 

In a world where it’s easy to become consumed with our to-do lists, God quietly calls us to slow down and worship Him—even in the dark after a busy day.

Proverbs 1: Hearing Wisdom's Voice

“Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance.” (Proverbs 1:5, ESV)

“Don’t touch! Owie!” I instructed my toddler son who was eyeing the stovetop. My youngest child hovered around my legs as I prepared dinner. I put my hand near the burner, then quickly pulled it away as I felt the heat radiating from the flame. “It’s hot! Don’t touch!”

His blue eyes flashed in defiance and before I could snatch his hand, his chubby fingers darted toward the hot burner like a squirrel to a bird feeder. Instantly, he withdrew his hand. Shock and pain filled his round face as tears trickled down his pudgy cheeks.

I scooped my son into my arms to comfort him and began running his fingers under cold water. Thankfully, his fingers didn’t blister and he was better within minutes. I hoped the next time I warned him about danger, he would listen.

As the book of Proverbs begins, we receive a word regarding the importance of heeding what the entire book teaches. We can mull over its wisdom and allow its truth to penetrate our hearts and lead toward obedience or ignore it and suffer the consequences like my toddler son.

Too often I respond like my youngest child. I think somehow I know better. Or that it doesn’t apply to me. Or that I possess enough wisdom already. But Proverbs chapter one makes it clear: everyone needs knowledge, even those who are wise. We never stop needing to have godly people speak truth into our lives or glean from Scripture because “the heart is deceitful above all things” (Jeremiah 17:9). We must realign our hearts to the Bible day after day because we are prone toward sinful patterns and masters at convincing ourselves we’re “okay”—even when “sin is crouching at the door” (Genesis 4:3).

My son decided what he wanted wouldn’t hurt him. And we can mirror this same heart attitude as we go about our days if we aren’t careful—endless scrolling on social media, choosing entertainment before mediating upon God’s Word, failing to do good to those God places in our paths, sharp words with our kids.

Wisdom is calling out to us so we won’t fall into sinful patterns that will destroy us. The evil one “comes only to steal and kill and destroy,” but we know Jesus came “that [we] may have life, and have it to the full” (John 10:10). If we want to experience the outpouring of the Holy Spirit in our lives, we must decide each day to tune our ears to wisdom’s voice and understand the dangers each day brings if we fail to obey. Dear ones, may we listen to wisdom and reap the blessings of obedience.

This devotional was first published at The Round Farmhouse.

We Are Beloved Daughters of God

“And behold, a voice from heaven said, ‘This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.’”

Matthew 3:17, ESV

“You’re not coming?”

My face flushed red. “My son doesn’t want me there.”

My eight-year-old son had invited a professional to speak to his classroom about her career, but he didn’t want me hanging around for the presentation. When he had politely informed me of his preference in the privacy of our home it made sense—no one else had a parent tag along and my son didn’t want to stand out. But that was before I had to tell two school secretaries, a teacher, and the professional this.

While I understood the need to fit in, my own insecurity was attempting to claw its way to the surface. I didn’t want others to think my son didn’t like me. Or that I was a bad mom. I knew the opposite was true, but I didn’t like having to parade a slice of the story to others. What I most needed in those public moments was to remind myself of what was true.

When Jesus began His public ministry, He requested John the Baptist baptize Him. When Jesus came up out of the water, God affirmed His identity by saying, “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased” (Matt. 3:17). Of all the words God could have spoken, He pinpointed the most important one—His relationship as Father.

Throughout Jesus’ life and ministry, some would call Him crazy, oppose His teachings, only want food and miracles, or seek to kill Him. But as Jesus embarks on the beginning of His public ministry, God communicated His deep love for Jesus as His Son. God’s delight in Jesus was not contingent upon what He did or religious leaders’ views about Him, but who He already was—God’s Son.

As I drove back home, I reminded myself that my worth wasn’t based upon what others thought of me. My value is eternally secure because of my relationship with God (John 1:12); Jesus made a way for me to be adopted into His family. My Father delights in me as His daughter whether or not my son wants me present in his classroom or if others disagree with my parenting choices—and the same is true for all who are saved by grace.

Knowing we are God’s beloved daughters will sustain us through the ups and downs life brings.

 This devotional was first published at The Round Farmhouse.

Comparison Trap

“Jesus said to him, ‘If it is my will that he remain until I come, what is that to you? You follow me!’”

John 21:22, ESV

“It’s not fair!” my son bellowed. The injustice of his younger sibling staying up past his bedtime while his didn’t budge was too much. It didn’t matter that the reason his little brother got to bed later was to accommodate picking him up from basketball practice. From his perspective, the only right course of action was to receive the same outcome: an extended bedtime.

And yet I could identify with my eight-year-old. Sometimes I, too, want to demand God work in the same way He does in my life as He does a friend or someone on social media. I could spend focused time in prayer and reading the Bible before my kids woke up if my children slept until 7 a.m. instead of 5:30 a.m. Training for a race would be attainable for  me, too, if my husband didn’t work long hours. Must be nice to have family live nearby and not scramble for a babysitter.

But the comparison trap is a dangerous place. My son and I aren’t the only ones who struggled with taking our eyes off Jesus and placing them onto our situations. When Jesus told Peter about what would happen to him in the future (John 21:18), Peter’s first instinct was to notice John nearby and ask about his ministry trajectory. But Jesus’ response made it clear that wasn’t Peter’s concern by saying, “What is that to you?” (John 21:22).

At the heart of Peter’s question was wondering if John got a better deal and whether God was withholding good. But when we follow Jesus, there’s no business class, first class, or economy class distinctions. We have been assigned a specific role by God for our good and His glory. We don’t get to swamp seat assignments because someone else’s looks nicer. We must trust the One who delegated it to us in the first place and do as Jesus commanded Peter, “You follow me!” (John 21:22)

Circumstances will ebb and flow, but our Savior remains steadfast. The comparison trap will rob us of joy and gratitude, but turning our eyes to Jesus will keep us faithful to the path placed before us by God.

This devotional was originally published at The Round Farmhouse.

Joyfully Sharing the Gospel

“I will make you as a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach to the ends of the earth.” 

Isaiah 49:6, ESV

As I snatched my son’s backpack off our enclosed front porch, I noticed my neighbors out for a walk. I stealthily scurried back inside to finish working on dinner. And yet as I finished meal preparations, remorse washed over me. I had been intentionally seeking to share the gospel with these same neighbors for the past two years, but instead of seizing these spontaneous moments to connect, I had fled.

It wasn’t that I didn’t like them—I genuinely did. But as an introvert, sometimes I would rather leave a note with baked goods on someone’s doorstep or wave from a distance than engage face-to-face when I’m busy.

As I mulled over the situation, the root heart issue surfaced: I loved myself more than Jesus. I cared more about maintaining my routine, than sharing Jesus with nonbelievers.

This realization was as unsettling for me as it would have been for the Ephesian church in the book of Revelation. Jesus warned Ephesus that they had “abandoned the love [they] had at first” for Him (Rev. 2:4), resulting in not fulfilling their purpose to be “a light for the nations, that my salvation may reach the end of the earth” (Isa. 49:6). The church was more consumed with solid theology—rather than telling people about Jesus—and had lost their original love for the Lord. We can have an excellent grasp of Scripture, but miss the most important thing: loving God. Without love, we will not be compelled to share our faith with those around us.

But we aren’t left wondering how to rekindle our love for God when its flames begin to flicker out. Jesus exhorts us to “remember” (Rev. 2:5) how we passionately pursued Him in the past. When we reflect upon how God worked previously—including what we read on the pages of Scripture—it ignites our love for the Lord. And with renewed love we will be unable to contain the good news about Jesus and compelled to proclaim it. Dear ones, let’s remind ourselves of God’s faithfulness so we joyfully share the gospel with those He places in our paths today.

 This devotional was originally published at The Round Farmhouse.