Author: Rachel Shambaugh

As human beings who are constantly, and sometimes subconsciously, searching for purpose, I believe we all have an inner fear of being truly known. So much of our lives, now shaped by a culture of being exposed on a regular basis through social media, is influenced by a desire to be seen in a positive light. We want to leave our mark, influence others, and be known for something. This is often at the expense of truly living into who God made us to be. Expectations created by this world can simply never be met, and so we hide.

One commonly referenced verse in scripture (Matthew 10:30) is, on the surface, seen as a comfort in times of need or loneliness. “Even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.” It’s comforting to know that we were created by a God who has such vast knowledge of us. At least, until we have to acknowledge the truth that He knows the real us.

If you dye your hair, it still grows back it’s natural color. And thus begins the regular ritual of touching up your roots to hide the real color that persistently grows back. If you cover your skin in tattoos, you still have your original skin, scars and freckles and all, underneath. If you cover your face in makeup or dress in the most flattering clothes, you are still very much you underneath. The world might not see those parts of us as we carefully and thoughtfully try our best to hide, but God does.

If you take comfort in knowing that God knows how many hairs are on your head, do you also take comfort in knowing that He knows your every thought? If you are comforted by the truth that He knows your every need, do you also take comfort in the truth that He knows your every sin? For so long I have wrestled with picking and choosing the attributes of God that I want applied to my life. For so long I have wasted precious time trying to hide who I really am from the One who created me and formed me.

The fear of God seeing the real you, hidden beneath whatever mask you might wear (whether its physical, verbal, emotional), doesn’t have to stay fear. That fear can turn into rejoicing, peace, comfort, rest, and even desire to be more transparent with Him. The scripture below is just a small starting point for this journey, should you choose to embark on it. (I would challenge you to look up these verses and read them for yourself!)

Psalm 139:1-6 acknowledges that God is fully aware of every part of us, even before we are. His knowledge of us is so great, we can’t even begin to fathom it!
Psalm 139:7-12 confesses that all of our efforts to hide ourselves from Him are fruitless. Even if we stray so far from Him that we are living entirely in the snares of sin, His presence is with us and He knows where we are.
Psalm 139:13-18 celebrates the truth that God formed us. Intimately. Intentionally. With a plan. His thoughts toward us are precious ones. He mapped out the days of our lives for His own personal safekeeping. His thoughts toward us are endless, even greater than the number of grains of sand. He never forgets us. He never leaves us.
Luke 8:17 tells us that no matter how hard we try to hide, God is aware of all things. Not only is He aware, but He will expose all things. All that is hidden in the darkness will be brought forth into the light. All things. But don’t stop reading here.
Romans 5:8 defies human logic and offers hope by telling us that even while, and even though, we are plagued by the persistent disease of sin, Christ died for us. Even though He knows the dirtiest, most hidden parts of our lives, He offered Himself as a sacrifice that we might live in the freedom of His love.
Romans 8:37-39 comforts us by telling us that nothing can separate us from this love that has been offered through Jesus Christ. No amount of hidden darkness, no amount of oppression or depression or humiliating confession can separate us from His love. Seriously, pick something out about yourself that you would rather keep hidden forever, acknowledge that He knows about it already, and then acknowledge that He loves you all the same.
1 John 3:1 paints a picture of who we are as vastly different from the photos of us in yearbooks and family portraits and instagram accounts. We are seen as His beloved, chosen children. And we’re seen that way because we are that way. He made us that way, and accomplished our adoption through the sacrifice of His perfect Son, Jesus. You are pictured just as you are, framed and displayed above the mantle of our heavenly home.

Whatever condition you are in, know that you are known and loved by the Creator of the universe. There is no greater release into freedom than recognizing that you don’t have to hide because He already sees you. And don’t be afraid of Him seeing you, because He looks upon you with love. I promise.

No matter how you have fallen short, are falling short, or will fall short, His knowledge of you is precious. Approaching Him transparently, in acknowledgment of His love for you, can only shape you into the person that He designed you to be when He knit you together in the beginning (Romans 8:29).

Be encouraged today, Child of God. You are fully known and loved.

There are a lot of unknowns in life. If we’re being honest, everything is unknown. This makes the concept of patience a little bit muddy. If mankind truly has no control over our next moments, what are we waiting for?

It’s easy to create an image in our minds of exactly what we’re waiting on. We can wait for jobs, marriage, promotions, children, retirement, all without ever knowing when or how (or if) those things will come. If I’m being honest, this humbling realization has brought feelings of restlessness, confusion, and even hopelessness. That’s the frustratingly ironic thing about our Enemy. He likes to distort our heavenly, hope-prompting revelations and use them to make us hopeless. But I don’t want to let him do that anymore.

The truth is, as believers in Jesus Christ, we wait because we have hope. Merely skimming the New Testament will reveal over and over again that “we look forward with hope to that wonderful day when the glory of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, will be revealed.” (Titus 2:23) This “looking forward” can only be done patiently. We are told in Hebrews 10:36 that “patient endurance is what [we] need now, so that [we] will continue to do God’s will. Then [we] will receive all that He has promised.”

The Hebrew word for patience is savlanut. The dictionary definition (for both the Hebrew and English words) will tell us that it means the ability to wait quietly or face rejection or delay; ability to bear calmly and with self-control upsetting situations. This isn’t far off at all. However, the Hebrew word also suggests the instinctual feeling we get when we are patient: suffering. The Latin word for patience suggests suffering as well, but also includes “disease”. Patient endurance, like any disease, has a process. The result of the latter is healing. The result of the former is eternal glory in the presence of our Jesus.

Everything in between right now and Jesus’ coming is a step. That is all. A step either closer to Jesus, or away from Him. But we are told that when we cling to His promises, hold on to our confidence in Him, and endure patiently, we will receive all He has promised. I am still learning this. In no way am I offering a step-by-step solution to anyone in a season of waiting. But I pray that in acknowledging that we aren’t doing anything wrong if we are suffering (and God isn’t any less good if we are suffering), you might find a tiny bit of hope.

Hope cannot be measured physically. But when we recall hope and cling to it, we are grounded in the soil of God’s promises. His promises never change, but our attitude sure can. I don’t know what you are waiting on. I don’t know how long you have been waiting, or how much suffering you endure while being patient. I only know my own load, and while it is heavy, it seems lighter with each passing moment as I recall God’s promises. Search out some of His promises, recall them in your darkest nights, and may they be sweeter than honey, and better than gold (Ps. 19:10) in your seasons of waiting.

We could all use a little more savlanut, and I pray it in abundance over anyone reading this. God bless you, friends.

Piglet once asked Winnie the Pooh, “How do you spell love?” Pooh answered, “You don’t spell it. You feel it.” I think he was on to something.

I often grapple with love. It’s not knowing love that I struggle with. I can read about it. Write songs about it. Sing about it. Speak about it. Exploring scripture for just a few moments hints at the truth that everything God has done from the beginning of time has been because of His love for us. My head is full of love. I can spell it just fine.

The concept of feeling love, on the other hand, is what leaves me feeling perplexed and defeated. That is pretty ironic. In recent months, I have been daily facing the same wall. It’s tall and intimidating and casts a huge shadow over my life. The wall is this: How can I be so sure of God’s love, devote my life to communicating His love, and still not feel confident of how it frees me? Granted, this wall hasn’t always been an obstacle in my life. There was a time where I felt so sure of God’s love that nothing could change my mind. I was invincible in the light of God’s love. But life can wear away at us until we wake up to realize that we have crawled deep into the shadows of doubt.

The wonderment of grace and unending love can wear away as life leaves its marks. We can stop marveling at the incomprehensible, life altering glory of being called a child of God. We can build up knowledge of God’s love and lose all sense of how real it is. We can forget the freedom that comes with God’s love.

If you are living in the knowledge of God’s love for you and still feel shackles of doubt around your ankles, I can relate. Most of the time, we don’t even realize we are living doubtfully. We hardly realize how fragile (or, in some cases, hardened) our hearts have become and how much we are striving to earn what we know to be a free gift.  Here is good news: we can stop striving.

Here is the definition of striving: “To make great efforts to achieve or obtain something; to struggle or fight vigorously.” And here is Ephesians 2:8-9: “For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith- and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God- not by works, so that no one can boast.”

Knowledge of this grace is vital. Peter prays this in 2 Peter 1:2: “Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and Jesus our Lord.” We need knowledge. But knowledge alone will never change us and bring us the freedom we desire.

Do you ever feel desperate to feel free? I do. It can be extremely disheartening to know that you are free, but not feel free. Freedom needs to be lived in. It needs to be received. Our spirits know freedom. Our souls need convincing. Desperation isn’t shameful when what you are desperate for is freedom.

Dr. Bob Reimer says in his book, Soul Care, “It isn’t in knowing the truth that freedom comes; it is in holding on to the truth that we are set free.” Holding on to truth when everything that you feel pushes you deeper into the shadows of doubt is a battle. The battle isn’t striving to claim God’s love. It is knowing His love is already yours and fighting hard against anything that says otherwise.

Today, throughout my time with Jesus, He reminded me of some freeing truths: I will never get my act together enough to feel lovable. I will never improve myself enough to feel worthy of loving. I will never be productive or successful enough to truly feel useful. I cannot do it. I never will.

And… I am really loved. Without condition. Forever. And always have been. (And the same goes for you.)

We don’t understand this immediately. It will take time. It will take battling lies every day, all day long. But we have His Spirit with us on the front lines, guiding us and reminding us that, though this battle is tough, Jesus has already one the war.

It isn’t enough to know the love of God. It isn’t enough to learn His love inside and out on paper if we aren’t letting His love shape how we live. There’s no need to strive to earn God’s love anymore. It is ours, wholly and completely. But we do need to take hold of that truth and let it permeate our lives so that we can live freely. It takes time. Don’t be discouraged. I promise that with the help of the Holy Spirit, you will feel the freedom of living in the light of God’s love.

When I was little and growing up in northern California, I would try to keep up with my brother and his friends. We lived on a missions base for a while, and there were so many things to explore. But I was little, and keeping up was hard.

In all of those adventures, I was never proud of being small or incapable. I remember being frustrated and sad. And today, as I’m embarking on this journey of worship leading, the story is very similar. My shortcomings feel similar to that same struggle of not being able to climb or run as fast as my big brother. It feels wrong. It feels like failing.

But the Word of God tells a different story. Twenty-four times, the Bible uses the word asthenia to explain weakness. It’s what Paul boasted in. It’s what Jesus took from a woman who had been broken down for eighteen years. It’s the weight that Jesus bore when He carried the Cross that was rightfully ours.

The word asthenia, in Greek, quite literally means “want of strength.” It is referring to a type of weakness that plagues our bodies, minds and souls. It is what keeps us from doing good things, and encourages us to keep doing what we hate. It is sickness and frailty. It is our natural condition.

So when this weakness is suddenly brought into the light and we are reminded that we aren’t as strong as we’d like to be, it hurts. We cheer for strength, not failure. But Paul had a different mentality, and it came directly from Jesus.

Paul was given a thorn in his flesh, a tormenter, to constantly remind him of his weaknesses. He prayed three times that the Lord would take it away. What was Jesus’ response? “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” (2 Corinthians 12:9) Um. Jesus is okay with us being weak? He doesn’t think we’re failing Him?

Paul’s response baffles me even more. “Therefore, I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
(2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

This, my friends, could change everything if we lived it out. Here are a few things I think we can gain from this passage in Scripture:

1. Sufficient means enough. We all know that, right? We might have sufficient funds in our bank accounts. The food in our pantries may be sufficient for all of our guests. Those are easy things to understand. But when we start thinking about failing or messing up or not having enough, do we really stop and say, “I have all that I need! I am okay! Jesus’ grace is enough for me.” I think we could benefit from putting that into practice. When you recount the moments that He let you fall, you might have a hard time remembering. Why? Because He’s got you. His grace is enough.
2. Boasting in our weaknesses really means boasting in His strength. They go hand in hand. We don’t boast in our weaknesses because Jesus gets some type of twisted satisfaction from hearing us be hard on ourselves. We are supposed to boast in our weaknesses because we are acknowledging that He is our strength. And here’s some of the best news: He is infinitely available to us. All of His grace, all of His strength. He just keeps giving and giving, and our weaknesses will never outgrow His strength. He is a never-ending stream of “don’t worry, I will help you.” We aren’t boasting about how bad we are. We are boasting about how good He is.
3. Our weaknesses don’t give Him power. Our weaknesses remind us of His power. When a light bulb goes out, we don’t just leave the light out. We find a new light bulb to replace the old. The same goes for our own areas of weakness. There is a power source to replace the emptiness, and His name is Jesus. He is already perfect and endlessly powerful. He doesn’t need us to make Him that way. But when we call upon His strength in light of our pain, His power is revealed to us.
4. When I am weak, then I am strong. Just like grace, this seems like such an unfair trade. Why would Jesus take our weaknesses and give us strength in return? Thats like handing someone a rotten banana in exchange for a five course meal. But that’s who Jesus is. Do you see an area of weakness in your life? Rejoice, because that is the perfect landing pad for strength. Call on Him in your weakness, and be confident that He is on the way.

Rejoice, dear friends. We have a kind and loving God, and He can shape our weaknesses into His glory.

In Him,

Rachel

 

I’m currently studying through Isaiah. I have only made it to chapter four, because there is a gargantuan amount of humanity to dive into. It is dark and terrifying, and a little too real. I want to skip ahead to the part where God’s people are rescued and redeemed. I want to read the words that tell of His people tasting the sweetness of grace and exchanging their pain for His joy. But I know that I have to linger in the moments of running and idol-worshipping for a moment longer, because I am walking the same journey. I have to understand where I am in order to understand why He doesn’t want me to be there.

As I study through the mistakes that God’s people have made, I find myself astonished by their reckless ignorance toward His obvious offer of freedom. Then… I find myself realizing that I do the same thing. There is a trying moment of, “Oh, I see how easy it was for them to worship those idols. I see how easy it was for them to choose counterfeit satisfaction instead of choosing the author of true satisfaction.”

Isaiah 1:12 stands out to me. “When you come to appear before me, who has required of you this trampling of my courts?” It is here that I can almost feel the rumbling of God’s voice. He asks His people a question that there cannot possibly be an answer to. No one has asked for this. One day, or maybe little by little, His people decided to trample on His grace instead of embrace it. He goes on to list some of the things that are an abomination to Him. Things we brought to Him with no effort or change of heart. Counterfeit things.

Then there is Isaiah 1:18. “Come now, let us reason together, says the Lord: though your sins are like scarlet, they shall be as white as snow.” If this doesn’t bring you to your knees, I don’t know what will. We can begin to feel His heart soften. Or maybe our eyes are just being opened to the heart that He has always had for us. He offers peace. He offers to throw our sins away. But we stay where we are, sealed into the concrete structures that we worship.

And Isaiah 2:5, a plea from the prophet: “O house of Jacob, come, let us walk in the light of the Lord.” I have been skimming over the words of offering and freedom that the Lord gives in these first chapters of Isaiah, looking for something within His promises that meant harm or pain or death. There is nothing. God clearly reveals that what He offers is life, rest and abundance. Yet there are so many words of grief and pain in these chapters. Because that’s what we keep turning to. Grief and pain.

My prayer is that we would recognize the difference between the voice of our Father and the voice of our pain. They are not the same. Seems simple, but it’s not. The voice of our Father is not the voice of our pain. I pray that we would all recognize with a little bit of bravery and humility the places that we have ended up, so that we might run into His arms.

As I journey onward through Isaiah, I would love to hear your thoughts on moving closer to the true heart of God. How can we really hear His voice amidst the chaos of regret, trial and confusion?

May peace abound in you.

Rachel