The Freedom Of Losing My Most Valuable Possessions

losing my life in christ

When I lost a bag at the airport a week and a half ago, I had about 5 minutes of, “Did I really do that? Oh crap all my debit cards were in there and I need gas to get home. How am I going to do my work and write the things without my computer? Oh shoot all of my IDs were in there. My book proof was in there!”

And then I was fine. A brief panic and then total peace. I was thinking about it today - as I can look forward to my items returning to me next week (yay they were found!)- I was thinking about how grateful I am that this week and a half was filled with peace when it could have been filled with panic.

I wasn’t upset. I wasn’t stressed. Instead, I felt free. There was some awkwardness about what to do with my days as losing my computer was a plan thwarter, but even that was a gift - it reinforced what God has been showing me about how to use my time differently.

I felt free because my life is not my own. My life is hidden in Christ - it’s His. My plans, my work, my various projects - these don’t belong to me and they aren’t for me and they aren’t for impressing other people or for checking off a productivity box. It’s all for Him.


And if it’s all for Him, and if He is calling me to do these things as I believe He is, and if He has access to all of the resources in the world, my little lost bag isn’t going to get in the way.


It was a huge reminder to my wandering heart of how the fullest, most satisfying, most peaceful existence is one where my life and everything in it belongs completely, is entrusted completely, to Jesus.

The fullest most satisfying most peaceful existence is one where my life and everything in it belongs completely, is entrusted completely, to Jesus

“There is only one thing worth being concerned about. Mary has discovered it, and it will not be taken away from her.”
- Luke 10:42

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This Is Not A House For Birds

devotion covering ugly parts of us

This birdhouse has a purpose and it is not to house birds, or to feed birds, or to do anything related to birds at all.

Its purpose is to kill wasps and to look pretty doing it. The wasp traps are disguised because this little space is being turned into a beautiful garden.

Ugly eyesores, like these traps, get hidden in parks and pretty gardens - they get cleverly disguised as pretty things so they don’t stick out like a sore thumb amid the creations of a green thumb.

But, you guys, we are not parks. We are not gardens. We don’t need to cover up and hide bits of ourselves to protect an aesthetic. We are something beautiful and we’re being made into something even more beautiful, but not by hiding what’s broken, disguising what’s ugly, or building up pretty walls to protect our image. We don’t have an image to protect!

We are works in progress - there are bound to be wasp traps hanging around.

“Whoever loves his life loses, and whoever hates his life in the world will keep it for eternity.”

- John 12:25

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weakness, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”

- 2 Corinthians 12:9

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Only The Stupid Hate Correction

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The Hebrew word translated to “Stupid” in this proverb is “ba-ar.”

It means brutish, stupid, unreceptive.

“Brutish” is an old word without much context for me, so I looked it up.


“Unreasoning and animal like,” the definition said.

Those who hate to be corrected are “unreasoning and animal like.”

learning to love correction


I’m learning to love correction - to love the opportunity to be better, to love God better, to love people better.

It doesn’t mean every dang person in the arena gets my ear for their criticism. But it does mean having vocal people around me - people who love me, who I trust - who will tell me hard things, who will correct me.

It means soaking up the correction, taking it to God, learning from it, discerning whether it’s accurate, and moving forward with more knowledge regardless.

You can reject every correction, or you can take it all in while hating every word and let it break you, or you can accept it with one hand, gratefully, looking it over and taking it to the creator to see what you can learn from it.

I’m working toward the latter.

Who Is The Expert On My Father

Photo: Negative Space on Pexels

Photo: Negative Space on Pexels

I live with my Father.

I eat every meal with Him and we pour over His words together. I walk with Him and I talk with Him about everything.

He wakes me up most mornings with a song. And most days I sing songs back to Him.

Who is the expert on my Father

He holds me and He loves me and I’m never alone.

One day my Father sent me on some of His business.

While I walked on the road I met a man who asked where I was going. I told Him about my Father’s business.

The man reared back and stopped short and puffed out his chest.

”The Father wouldn’t send you THERE,” he said. “The Father wouldn’t send you to do THAT.”

I shrugged and continued on my way, but the man followed.

He told me about all of the books he has read about my Father. And he told me of countless hours spent studying Him. He pulled papers out of his bag to show me how the great Universities decided he is an expert on my Father. He told me how I was wrong, how I was going the wrong way, how I was doing the wrong thing, how the Father would not be pleased.

I smiled at the man and thanked him for spending some of his time with me. I invited him to come over later, and told him I would introduce him to my Father.

And then I went about the Father’s business.