When Darkness Comes - Part 7: Revealing our True Hearts

I have been doing a series on the darkness as it pertains to times of struggle in our lives. The last two posts revolved around truth; the truth we know about God and the truth we know about ourselves as seen in the Word of God. We cannot, however, have truth and not acknowledge the feelings and emotions that God created us with. As we saw last time, we often put on False Faces, so that we can cope and pretend the truth has penetrated our hearts, but in reality it hasn’t. I have been sharing my own experience with you, because through my own walk in the dark, I have learned that truth must be wrestled with before it can become a part of our inner being.

Image by Herbert Aust from Pixabay

God knows our delicate frame and also knows He gave us a mind that can think, reason and question. However, we must remember our minds were meant to be in communion with Him. The longer we let our minds dwell on what is false, hopeless and destructive, the less we will be able to recognize His truth. When we are walking in the darkness, there is no doubt, the Unseen Enemy will try to manipulate that shadowed path to his advantage. That is precisely why it is so important to stand on the God’s truth, but not just stand, we have to wrestle with it and allow Him to pierce our souls with it.

He has done that with me. Even as I type this, tears come to my eyes, because I realize, as an Almighty being, He owes me nothing. He has no reason to gift me His time or attention. He does so, because He chooses to. The incredible, lavish fact is, He chooses to do this, even when I am at my lowest, ranting about how unfair life is or how hard things are, or questioning impatiently when will this darkness end.

In order to get to this point of allowing God to pierce us, we must acknowledge our feelings, as ugly as they can be. Feelings are often tied to experiences, both good and bad. In my heart I have a room. Inside, there are shelves full of experiences, mostly those with other people. Most of these are bad experiences. When I feel bad, I unlock that room and I go inside, closing the door behind me. It isn’t a comfortable room, filled with fairy lights and comfy, overstuffed furniture. It’s more like an old attic, full of cobwebs, dark corners and lots of junk. I find a place on the hard floor and I start reviewing all that junk…all those times I yelled at my kids; all the angry words between my husband and I; all those feelings of never measuring up…of not being enough…of being invisible.

Image by József Kincse from Pixabay

Most of us have something like my attic room, where we revisit things that happened or didn’t happen. These are part of emotional make up of who we are and God is patient with us. He allows us those moments, but He doesn’t want us to stay there. Eventually, it would be nice if I could hand that key over to Him and walk away. I haven’t done that yet, but I am getting closer.

I am going to share an except from my journal, when I was revealing my true heart to God. I share these things, not to make you feel sorry for me or to make you think how hard I have had it, but I hope by being vulnerable with you, you will choose to be vulnerable with God.

“I guess what it comes down to, Lord, is I am sad that I am invisible. I know there are lots of people struggling with far worse things than feeling invisible. There are wives whose husbands are unfaithful; there are children whose caretakers are abusive; there are elderly men and women fading like an old photograph with no one to visit or care about their needs, or desires. There are people who have felt the pain of divorce, the death of a child or spouse...and here I am feeling sad...that I feel invisible.

But I would not be a healthy person if I did not acknowledge I am sad, and it hurts. It hurts to be forgotten; to have a face that is unmemorable; to have no voice except one that is deemed naggy, bitchy or emotional. I am only acknowledged when I mess up. I am only texted or called when someone wants something...””

— Amy's journal from 5/23/21

Image by Vojtěch Kučera from Pixabay

There are several things I want you to notice. I am acknowledging my feelings. I am unloading. I have remembered God’s truth about Himself and about me, and now I am letting Him know how I feel. My intellect knows what is true…I am not invisible. I have a family who does love me. I have friends…but the acknowledgement of feelings is so important in healing and in allowing God to bring His word into the deep places of our hearts. I go on to make this very point in my journal.

“Lord, I am venting. I know what Your word says. I am not invisible. Your word says You knew me before I was born. You know my thoughts from afar. There is no place I can go to get away from You. I am not invisible to You. (Psalm 139)”

— Amy's journal from 5/23/21

The other thing I want you to notice is that I recognize I am not alone in suffering. There are many who are suffering; many who have it far worse than I do, but that does not diminish my feelings or my need to lay those feelings at His feet. This is a process.

The next step follows: I recognize that some of my struggle is a result of sin, and the work of the Unseen Enemy.

“Lord, I ask Your forgiveness that I struggle with these feelings over and over. I should be mature enough to be so over it, but right now I am not. I am weak.

I ask for Your protection. I know my enemy would like to devour me, my family, but he cannot. Renew my mind, because I cannot. I choose to lean in to You; in to your comfort, mercy and grace; into Your sufferings. I embrace it all and I call on Your name...the name of Jesus, knowing He is the Great Warrior Prince and He will rescue me.”

— Amy's Journal - 5/23/21

Finally, I acknowledge the power and supremacy of the Almighty One.

“Thank you for You hem me in behind and before; that You are my rear guard; that You hold my hand and walk with me through every single valley. You are the Wonderful Counselor, the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father and Prince of Peace. You alone are the King of Kings and Lord of Lords.”

— Amy's Journal - 5/23/31

Image by Pexels from Pixabay

Don’ be afraid to let God peer into the deepest places of your heart. Allowing Him access to those attic rooms will eventually bring about true renewal and cleansing. Wrestle with God’s truth. Tell Him how you really feel as you maneuver the darkness of your path. Let Him pierce you deep and He will bring you to new understanding and heights of His love.

Next time we will look at another piece of this refining process as we continue our journey in the darkness. I hope you are able to join me. Thank you for all your support and I pray God will become more real to you today than He ever has before.

Tended Dreams

This is a fiction piece by Amy D. Christensen

So many coffins! Why were there so many coffins?

Image by Lisa Yount from Pixabay

The One who stood beside me looked out over the vast area filled with every manner of death box imaginable. There were pine boxes, reminding me of the Old West, golden sarcophagi, dark cherry wood polished until it shimmered and many, many more. It would take days to count how many coffins filled the valley: literally a valley of dry bones. Here and there I could see beings of light, I assumed were angles, tending to the coffins.

“Who are they,” I asked looking up into his dark eyes.

They were brown, but seemed to be edged with golden light; a light that came from deep within His heart.

He smiled at me, though I could tell there was a deep sadness behind that smile. “Not who, but what?”

“I do not understand.”

Image by Jackson David from Pixabay

He took my hand, squeezing it firmly. It felt as though just a bit of strength tingled from his fingers into mine filling my whole body with warmth. It was as though someone had just draped a warm blanket over my shoulders.

“These coffins hold dreams.”

“Dreams?”

“Come. Let’s walk and I will show you.”

I was afraid. I had always been afraid to be around death. I never liked going to funerals and walking through grave yards was fine during the day when the sky was blue, but when the sun went down and the mists began to creep along the ground, no thank you! I planted my feet firmly.

He turned to look at me. “It will be alright. You are with me, and I would never let anything hurt you. Not any more.”

His eyes took in the depth of my soul. It was then I knew. He knew everything about me and yet, it was completely obvious how much He loved me.

“Come.” He smiled again and I let myself be pulled along.

We moved in among the elongated boxes and I couldn’t help but admire how intricately beautiful some of them were. Many were very simple and completely unadorned, while others had been carved and embellished with decorative swirls and etchings, some of which looked to be letters in various languages.

He stopped before a dark box whose wood was so polished and smooth I could see myself in it.

Image by composita from Pixabay

“This one belongs to a man who took great pride in his work. He built his own business from the ground up. When he met his wife, he knew he wanted to have a family. He wanted many children, hoping that a few of them would one day carry on the family business. His wife died in child birth. He never remarried and eventually sold the business.”

He moved me along to another box a little ways away. This one was much more ornate than the last one. It was covered in beautiful scroll work.

Image by JamesDeMers from Pixabay

“This one belongs to a woman who married young. She had dreams of becoming an archeologist, but her husband said her place was in the home with the children. She had a brood, and when there were no more children to be birthed, her husband left her for a younger woman.”

“How terrible!”

The next coffin he stopped before was smaller. Not the size of a child, but not a full adult either. It was white and decorated with pretty pink and yellow flowers.

Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay

“The girl whose dreams reside here was only 16 when a drunk driver took away her ability to walk. She wanted to be a dancer hoping that sad people would find joy in the movement of music and dance.”

He stretched out his hand and rubbed the top of the pretty box, as if remembering.

I felt my eyes sting with tears. He began to walk again and I pulled my hand from His.

“Why are you showing me these things?”

He did not speak. I could see tears in his own eyes. He held out his hand.

Once again, I placed mine in his and we walked for a while in silence.

The next box we stopped in front of was rather simple and unassuming. In fact as we had walked it occurred to me there were many coffins like this. They weren’t plain and simple like an Old West pine box, nor were they richly adorned. They were, in fact plain and unnoticeable.

“Why are there so many like these?”

He looked out over the valley, turning his head from one side to another. “These are the dreams of mothers for their children; wives for their marriages; grandmothers for their grandchildren. As is so often the case these go unnoticed. Mothers go about their lives, most often never asking for the help they need, the desires that go unmet and the thanks they so deserve. Unlike many, who have one major dream of what they want to do with their lives, mothers, wives and grandmothers often have the most dreams and, as you can tell by these coffins, so very many of them must be laid to rest.”

Image by Richard Mcall from Pixabay

“Well, if that’s the case, why aren’t their coffins more ornate and noticeable? Why are they so plain?”

“Because their desires were simple. They wanted their children to grow up without damage and problems. They wanted their husbands to talk to them. They wanted their families to get along…simple things really, yet so important. Unfortunately, very few take into account the dreams of a mother. They love her and are glad for her, but they rarely get to know the woman that she is underneath all that she does: the writer, the singer, the artist, the leader, the warrior. So very many dreams that had to die.”

“But why?” I was beginning to feel upset. “Why should they have to give up their dreams?”

“Because they knew what was really at stake. They knew that the most important part of life was relationship. They were willing to give up everything else, so that relationships with their children, husbands and grandchildren could continue. You see life is not about the dreams that come true, it is about the relationships that are built, or abandoned, along the way.”

He stepped away from the box. “Come. I have one last thing to show you.”

Again, he took my hand and once again I felt the mild tingle of His strength moving me forward and warming me.

The sight we came to next took my breath away. A sea of tiny, infant sized coffins, each adorned with a small, flickering candle, floated silently on a huge glassy lake. The light on each coffin produced a shimmering reflection in the surrounding water. It was all at once beautiful and horrifying.

Image by Hans Braxmeier from Pixabay

He sensed my discomfort and putting his arm around my shoulders, pulled me close.

“Even a baby has dreams. In the world as you know it, when babies are born they do not have language, but the truth is, all that are conceived have the imprint of heavenly language. It is in this realm that they dream. They dream of small things, but still they are dreams. Smiles, green grass, blue skies, their mother’s face, their father’s laugh, the feeling of human touch, but alas, none of these dear ones ever got to realize their dreams.”

I gasped, as the sea of coffins seemed to go on forever. Tears slipped down my face.

He turned me towards him.

“You have dreams too. I showed you all these things because I want you to know that each and every dream you have is important to me. Each and every dream that you must give up, I will know about and I will tend to. That is how much I love you!”

* * * * * * *

Often, when I write a piece like this, I feel it is God giving me a way to express my own feelings and thoughts, but in the form of a story. An allegory tells a story in the form of imagery. I hope that the picture I painted above shows you, that Jesus loves you with an everlasting love and that every single dream you have achieved, and every single desire you have had to give up, He is aware of and He holds in the palm of His hand. I write, because I need to remember this, and maybe you do too.

You are deeply loved!

The Gift of Tears

She had been waiting for what seemed like days. The antechamber outside the throne room was filled with people. They milled about faces filled with an odd expression of joy and fear. Those who waited with her had never seen Him face to face before. The thought of standing before the King of all Kings was delightful yet terrifying.

She folded her arms across her chest. Odd that she felt strangely self conscious. Her robes shone with the golden threads woven in a fashion she had never seen before and looked just as lovely as everyone else's, but still she felt...well, she wasn't sure. Her stomach bubbled with giddy anxiety knowing that she would soon be looking into His face.

No one in the antechamber knew for sure what He looked like. Those who went in, never came out. They had heard rumors, that once they had stood before the King and presented their gifts they were led to their new homes in the Kingdom. She thought fleetingly of her new home. She hoped it had a big wrap around porch with a swing and flower gardens bursting with color.

Her mind went back to His appearance. As a child she had imagined Him looking like a wizard; long white beard, flowing colorful robes,  mimicking one of the fictional stories she had read. When she grew into a woman He became more like a handsome warrior, her lover. She blushed. How silly she was to imagine the King of Kings as her lover. Yet she knew that He was all this and so much more than she could imagine. No book, or song or poem ever written, not even the Holy Writings themselves could truly paint the Master's face.

There were rumors that had floated back to them from those who had gone before. One rumor said he was dark like ebony and his eyes shone like blackest glass. Another found Him to be light like finest porcelain with eyes that looked through you like icy swords. Still another rumor had said that He had no form, but was merely glistening brightness, much like a chandelier of a thousand diamonds. She wondered how she would see him.

Trying to ease her anxiety she listened to conversations around her. Voices spoke in muted whispers, but once in a while, someone would come close enough and she could hear them talk about their gifts. Everyone was expected to bring the King a gift, and this was, perhaps, what terrified her the most. She had no gift, save herself. Everyone who gathered in that chamber had pledged their life to Him. What they spoke of were gifts that they had accumulated during their lives: others brought into His kingdom, gifts of gold and precious jewels, even gifts of service. She had nothing.

It wasn't that she hadn't done anything during her life, but she had nothing to show for it. She had lived her life according to His laws and desires, at least most of the time. Oh, she had struggled to submit, to love, to be kind and sometimes she failed, but she tried to do what was right. Maybe that is why she felt different than the others around her. She felt something akin to panic rise in her throat. She fought it down. She knew the King to be wise, patient and fair. Surely, He would let her into the Kingdom because she followed Him, after all she knew it was His mercy that had saved her, not anything she had done.

Suddenly the doors to the throne room opened. Silence fell on the room. She waited...an inhaled breath....holding....her name announced so that all could hear. She let out the breath and lifting her gowns, slowly crossed the room. Those around her, a thousand faces smiling and blessing her, telling her to enjoy His presence. She could  barely lift her eyes noting every swirl and squiggle in the marble floor. Now she was at the stairs. One, two, three, glistening steps that lead up to the heavy golden doors. 

She was ushered in and words failed to describe the scene before her. The Holy Writings filled her mind:

“ After these things I looked, and behold, a door standing open in heaven, and the first voice which I had heard, like the sound of a trumpet speaking with me, said, “Come up here, and I will show you what must take place after these things.” Immediately I was in the Spirit; and behold, a throne was standing in heaven, and One sitting on the throne. And He who was sitting was like a jasper stone and a sardius in appearance; and there was a rainbow around the throne, like an emerald in appearance. Around the throne were twenty-four thrones; and upon the thrones I saw twenty-four elders sitting, clothed in white garments, and golden crowns on their heads. Out from the throne come flashes of lightning and sounds and peals of thunder. And there were seven lamps of fire burning before the throne, which are the seven Spirits of God; and before the throne there was something like a sea of glass, like crystal; and in the center and around the throne, four living creatures full of eyes in front and behind. The first creature was like a lion, and the second creature like a calf, and the third creature had a face like that of a man, and the fourth creature was like a flying eagle. And the four living creatures, each one of them having six wings, are full of eyes around and within; and day and night they do not cease to say,

“Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God, the Almighty, who was and who is and who is to come.”

And when the living creatures give glory and honor and thanks to Him who sits on the throne, to Him who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders will fall down before Him who sits on the throne, and will worship Him who lives forever and ever, and will cast their crowns before the throne, saying,

“Worthy are You, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power; for You created all things, and because of Your will they existed, and were created.””

— Revelation 4 (NASB)

Those beings who brought her into the room, now led her closer to the throne. As she came nearer she could make out His form on the throne and she felt as though her body would disintegrate. Unable to continue walking she felt a weight greater than any she had ever been under. The weight of all her pride, her fear, her complaints, her selfishness, all of it, felt like a great hand pushing her down to the floor. Those who had brought her in moved away from her and she longed for their presence...for now...she...was...alone.

She remained there until a voice spoke to her like the tinkling of wind chimes in a gentle breeze. It was soft, child-like, kind. The voice seemed to come from all around and even from within her. Then it changed to the voice of a man. It spoke with authority.

"Beloved."

She thought she had heard Him wrong.

"Beloved, stand up. You are forgiven. You are washed in the blood of the lamb. You are mine."

She raised her head keeping her eyes closed, but eventually curiosity won out. She looked up.

His appearance was all at once known, yet unknown; old yet young. He appeared to her just as she had imagined Him. A stately King, an aging jovial wizard, a handsome young warrior all wrapped into one beautiful omnipotent being. What raised her to her feet was His smile.

He had descended from the throne and stood near her with His hand outstretched. She rose slowly and extended her hand timidly. He took it and the tingle that went through her body chased every remaining fear and doubt away. She knew she was home.

"You have a gift for me, Beloved." It wasn't a question.

She lowered her face. "But I have nothing my King."

He chuckled and raised her face with a finger under her chin. "Look over there."

He pointed to a place near the throne where there were hundreds of jars. Small ones, large ones, fat ones, thin ones. They looked to be made of all sorts of materials from glass to china, to brass and alabaster.

She looked back at Him. 

He jutted his chin towards the jars and told her, "Go find yours. You will know it when you see it."

She let go of His hand and crossed the throne room to where the jars stood. There were so many. How was she to know which one was hers? She was instantly drawn to the alabaster ones, especially those that ran deep with rusty red and cream. They gleamed in the light of the throne room. She found herself running her hand along the tops, enjoying the smooth sensation beneath her fingertips. Suddenly when her hand brushed a rather large jar with a simple lid her heart shuddered. She had found hers and she knew the jar's contents. 

She turned and saw that He was sitting on the shining steps that led up to the throne. For some reason this action did not seem strange at all. He was a King. He was her King. The very things that she learned about Him from the Holy Writings now all made sense.

He smiled again. "Beloved, you have been filling that jar since you were a child. Every time you scraped a knee, fell off your bike or took a fall those tears went in the jar. Bring it to me."

She picked up the beautiful jar carefully, its weight not even an issue for her new body. She drew near to where He sat. She removed her robes, for now, there was no shame. She knelt before the King and saw that He did not wear shoes. She smiled up at Him. 

When she opened the jar the memories rose around her as so many ghosts of the past and with them the heady scent of familiar perfume, the perfume of tears.

"Yours is a jar of millions of tears. I saw every hurt you ever felt. I held you every time the salt coursed down your cheeks. Tears of love, tears of pain, tears of heartache, and yes, even the tears of joy. This is your gift to me."

She lifted the jar and began to pour her life onto His feet. Her tears were and always had been her gift to Him.

(This was a fictional work - Written by Amy D. Christensen)

Pies, Processing and Proclamation

With all of the terrible things happening in our country, around the world, even in our own families, it is difficult to not want to run away and hide. A Gilligan's Island type shack on a sunny tropical beach sounds pretty good about now. No radio, no television, no cell phones and no internet. I want to be blissfully ignorant. Who wouldn't? But that is not reality. Reality is harsh and troubling. Reality screams of violence and injustice. Sometimes, reality just plain acts like a vacuum! It really sucks!

Photo credit Lisa Jessamy on StockSnap.

We all have to process life's difficulties and we all have different ways of processing. Some people go to the gym, while others sleep. You might lose yourself in a book, or curl up with a movie. Still, others turn to drugs, alcohol or food. We all have to process. You can't get away from it. Oh, you can ignore it for a while, but eventually it will all come crashing in on you, forcing you to process.

Today, I was very tired. My brain felt fuzzy. I really didn't want to do anything. Thoughts of the families of victims of violence flitted through my mind. I also dwelt on a friend who had a heart attack. There were others that my heart grieved for; my nephew who was supposed to marry next weekend, but whose fiancee called off the wedding, my daughter and her five year old son, who is struggling to find full time work, my mother who is almost 90 and still living on her own. Processing, processing.

One way of processing is to worry. Worry basically plays that same scenario through your mind, over and over and over. That doesn't get you very far. Another way of processing is to blame. It has to be everyone else's fault. Good luck with that. Today, I chose to process, by making a pie.

Photo credit Christy Lane Campbell on StockSnap.

As I wearily got out the ingredients and started mixing them together, I began to process. Flour, salt, shortening, water, they are all simple ingredients. It felt almost therapeutic to mix the dough, pat it and roll it out on the table. It reminded me of what a lovely, simple task it was, but how very necessary to making a good crust. It occurred to me that God uses simple ingredients to bring about change in our lives and in our world. Difficulty is an ingredient. Heartbreak is an ingredient. So is love, forgiveness and repentance. If I want to make a good pie, I have to mix the ingredients together. God is mixing. I am processing. Sometimes, I process by writing. 

Part of processing is asking questions: Why is this happening? Why me? Why so much hate and violence? Why so much pain and heartache? It's okay to ask questions. You can even shout them at God in anger if you want. He loves you and He knows you are hurting. But after you've asked the questions, don't forget to listen for the answers. They may not look exactly like the answers you wanted, but go back to the basics. Flour - He is the bread of life. Salt - He is the salt of the earth. Shortening - like a fattened calf, He was our sacrifice. Water - He is the living water. 

Photo credit Markus Spiske on StockSnap

“ Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.”

— Hebrews 13:8 (NASB)

Processing should always lead back to Jesus. Only Jesus can make this chaotic thing called life turn into a good pie. If we allow our thoughts to go the road of worry, hate, bitterness and anger, no problems will ever be solved. Jesus is the way. Jesus is the truth. Jesus is the life. That's what I choose to think on.

“Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.”

— Philippians 4:8

What's Stopping Your Growth?

Even though I wasn't feeling up to par today, I decided to spend a little bit of time in my flower beds cleaning them out. The sun was warm and the first breezes of spring caressed my face. As I was digging around I thought about the things that inhibit growth in my garden. The wrong ph balance in the soil, insects, poor weather and too much shade versus too much sun can all affect how plants grow. The same is true in our walk with Christ. Things can inhibit our growth. Instead of becoming a beautiful plant full of life and color I can quickly become a shriveled up mess, looking for a way out. I'd like to look at four areas that stunt our growth as branches of the Vine.

1. Unconfessed Sin. I mentioned this last month when we were looking at Easter and spring. Unconfessed sins have a way of building and gaining momentum. We get caught in a torrent of rationalization and pride which makes it harder and harder to get back to center - the place where we are focused on Christ. Maybe you've gone down this road: "It was only a small thing. Nobody will really notice." "Well, they weren't using it anyway. They'll never miss it." "I deserve it more than they do. I've worked harder and been here longer than them! It's my right." The voice going through your head will sound a little different depending on the sin, but you get the idea. Sin spirals and keeps us from thriving.

“Therefore, confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another so that you may be healed. The effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much.”

— James 5:16 (NASB)

“If we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”

— 1 John 1:9 (NASB)

Another thing we can lump under unconfessed sin would be bad habits. This is harder to talk about because all of us struggle with some bad habit or other. I eat and shop too much. And if you don't think that affects my walk with Christ, you are wrong. Sadly, I still struggle so one thing I do is pray God would move in my life to draw me closer to Him and lessen my desire for fulfillment in "stuff". Think about your bad habits. Maybe you smoke or drink. Maybe you stay up real late or watch movies that don't edify (Walking Dead anyone)? And I am not here to point fingers. I am only here to get you thinking. Wasting time can be a bad habit. Wasting money can be a bad habit. All of these things can and will affect your life with Christ. They may not be noticeable, but the effects are real.

2. Hurts. Pain is real. Life can get overwhelming with disappointments and discouraging circumstances. At times the only thing I feel like I have going for me is the fact that Jesus loves me, this I know! And that is okay. He is enough. However, pain and hurts can grab hold of us like a crab grabbing onto a delectable piece of fish. It doesn't want to let go. We have two choices: let pain overwhelm and paralyze us taking us away from Christ, or let pain drive us closer to Him. You can say, "I'm not going to make either of those choices," but by not choosing you have made a choice. If we do not choose to move closer to Jesus, the current of life and all it's difficulties will take us away from Him.

““Would that God were willing to crush me,
That He would loose His hand and cut me off! “But it is still my consolation,
And I rejoice in unsparing pain,
That I have not denied the words of the Holy One. “What is my strength, that I should wait?
And what is my end, that I should endure?”

— Job 6:9-11 (NASB)

“But I am afflicted and in pain; May Your salvation, O God, set me securely on high.”

— Psalm 69:29 (NASB)

Both Job and the Psalmist knew pain, difficulty and discouragement, but they chose to focus on God.

3. Busyness. If you don't think life is busy then please share your secret with me. I used to think that when my girls were grown and moved out that I wouldn't be as busy any more. Granted I am no longer homeschooling, so I don't have lesson plans and all that goes with being a homeschool mom, but look, now I have a blog! Life is busy. If you have young children, school age children, kids in college, adult children, grandchildren, aging parents, work, social responsibilities, church and more, you are busy. When I get busy the first thing I toss is my quiet time. The more I do, the less I pray. I more things I'm involved in, even the good things, the less time I have to delve into God's word on my own and the less I am growing. Jesus is just like your friends or your spouse or your children. You have to make time for Him. 

“For Ezra had set his heart to study the law of the Lord and to practice it, and to teach His statutes and ordinances in Israel.”

— Ezra 7:10 (NASB)

Ezra made a choice, he set his heart to study the law of the Lord and to practice it. No matter how busy we are, we have to make a choice to spend time with the Lord, in order to grow.

4. Filling our minds with things other than Christ. Let me preface this by saying, I am not against studying books other than the Bible, music, movies or other things that we tend to fill our time and our minds with. What I am saying is that we can spend so much time on these other things that they have more of an influence on our lives than the things of Jesus. There are learned men and women who claim Jesus as their Savior, but restrict their learning to books that others have written about Him. I know young people that spend more money and time on going to concerts to hear secular artists than giving to their churches. I am guilty myself of spending more time watching reruns of TV shows than reading the scriptures over again. 

“For those who are according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who are according to the Spirit, the things of the Spirit. For the mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace,”

— Romans 8:5-6 (NASB)

That verse doesn't say that if you watch movies you are going to die. It does say that if we set our mind, meaning we keep our mind in that place all the time, on the flesh, and all of these things we do to satisfy our flesh....that will be death. 

If we don't water the flowers and give them fertilizer and prune away the dead stuff they will die. Growth in our Christian lives is about letting Jesus water us, fertilize us and prune away the dead stuff that has settled inside our hearts. I believe we need to allow Christ to work in the garden of our hearts to grow us, so we can bear His fruit.

“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law.
”

— Galatians 5:22-23 (NASB)