If you hadn’t heard yet, one of the things that I worked on this summer was to finally edit and publish the study I wrote on Hebrews 11. It’s now available on Amazon in both print and Kindle editions, which you can find here.
I’m not one for promoting myself or the material I write, but if you’ve found this book (or the PDFs I posted on this site) helpful or encouraging in any way, would you mind leaving me a review on Amazon? Thanks so much!
I’ve been having a hard time today. Seems like everywhere I turn, someone is comparing me to someone else.
“My job is harder because I have more students than you do.”
“I deserve more because I take care of my kids and you don’t have any.”
“You’re not as pretty as her.”
“You’re not as skinny as you should be.”
When did life become a comparison game? When did we start to try to one-up our friends so that we would get more glory, more pity, more pride? And why does this bother me so much?
Why does it matter whose job is harder – when we’ve been called to different things by God, given different talents by Him?
Why does it matter that I don’t have kids but you do – does it somehow make you a better wife, a better person, or a better mom?
Why does it matter who’s prettier – and how do we even measure that, anyway?
Why is there a way that I should look, a body type I should have?
What if, instead of trying to one-up everyone around us, we just listened instead? We cried with our friends, laughed with them, and lifted them up in prayer? What if, instead of trying to be better than them, we turned ourselves to God, who knows we’re only made worthy by His sacrifice? And by the way, not just our friends – but our enemies too.
How different would our world look if we didn’t try to one-up each other, and instead forgave each other and prayed for each other? I think it’d look a lot different.
We might go for a walk with each other instead of pointing out that we need to lose a few pounds. We might give each other words of encouragement instead of harsh, unhelpful ones. We might build each other up instead of tear each other down.
We were all given different gifts by our Heavenly Father. He created us each for something different. Let’s embrace that calling and encourage those around us whose callings may be different than ours. Let’s lift each other up instead of comparing ourselves to others, cheapening our own worth.
You are worth so much – enough that God died for you, and calls you His own. Your worth is not measured by what people say or who they compare you to. Your worth is found in the One who died to know you. Let others know Him too.
Having moved a fair amount in the last few years, I’ve gotten pretty familiar with my trusty phone’s GPS. I just plug in an address, and away I go to my destination, not really noticing anything along the way. After a few times, I can get to the place I want without my GPS, but I’m the kind of girl who goes by landmarks, not by street names.
If you ask me how to get to ALDI, I’ll tell that you go past the highway and turn left towards the school, then before you get to Pal’s you turn right. Take that to the busy road with the park on the left, and turn left. Go past the McDonald’s and it’ll be on your right.
Other people do directions in north and south. “Go south out of the school and turn west onto US45.” By the way, that wasn’t take US45 west, it was turn west, which would actually get you on US45 east.
I think that’s why I like GPS’s. They just tell me where to go, when to turn, and don’t give me too many directions at once. And no matter how many wrong turns I make, it will find another way to get me to my final destination.
The last time I made a wrong turn, my GPS kept trying to get me to take a U-turn to get back on the road it wanted me on in the first place. It seemed like no matter how far I went, it just kept trying to turn me around. After what seemed like a million times of hearing “Rerouting. Make a U-turn…” the GPS finally figured out another way to get me there.
It dawned on me the other day that that’s what God does when we stray off of the path, too. He keeps trying to get us back on the right path, the main road that he was taking us on. At some point, though, he gives us over to our free will and allows us to take the different path.
Sometimes, if you’re one of my friends, that means driving a car onto the Appalachian trail – meant for walking only.
Sometimes that means driving on some one way roads.
Sometimes that means driving sixteen miles out of your way when it would have been quicker to just make a U-turn.
In my life, I’ve found myself on plenty of one way roads and trails my car wasn’t meant to be on, and even driven around the mountain just because I didn’t want to make a U-turn. And yet, every time, God has eagerly pursued me, giving me over to my desires so that I will realize that His way was actually the better way. That my car wouldn’t have run out of gas had I just done what he said the first time. That I would have saved myself a lot of headache if I’d stayed on the marked road.
In this twisty turvy, curvy, bumpy, and winding road of life, I’m hoping that I’ve learned to follow God’s GPS. I’ll still take wrong turns, but I hope I’ve learned to listen when He calls me back. That I’ve not taken for granted that He still pursues me when I’ve strayed. That His way really is better.
Following God’s GPS may not always make sense, and it may not always be easy. But it is the road I’m choosing to be on. Because following His voice is the better way, every time.
“I want to have a marriage just like you and Daddy, someday.”
I want my kids to say that, someday. And no, this isn’t something you’ll be hearing soon, so just squash those rumors before they begin.
But I want my kids to say it. And in order for them to say that, I need to show them a marriage worth imitating. I need to show them Christ’s relationship with the church. I need to show them Christ’s relationship with me.
In this fallen and broken world, my sinful and selfish nature wants to rule. I am wired to do things for me, because I want to, and because I think it’s okay. When Christ came into my heart to rule as king in my life, all of that changed. Not my sinful human nature – no, I war against that every day. But He took my sin and my shame and nailed it to a cross and called me to a higher place: forgiveness and grace.
He forgives me when I don’t ask for it. He gives me second chance after second chance after second chance when I’ve screwed up twenty times over. He covers me with a grace that I do not for one minute deserve.
And that is what He has called me to do in relationship with my husband. That’s what He’s called me to model to my children, to the people around me – be they students or coworkers or friends.
I want to be a wife after God – one who seeks her husband’s good over her own, and one who seeks God above all. I want to be a wife who loves unconditionally and forgives without expecting anything in return. I want to freely give grace because it has been freely given to me.
I will not do it perfectly, but that is what I want my children to see. Humility. Grace. Forgiveness. Love. In short, I want them to see Jesus in my marriage.
I’ve been staring at this blank screen for a while, trying to come up with something to write. Every time I start something, I erase it and start over.
Why?
Because it wasn’t good enough.
“Good enough?” the voice in my head says. “Even what you’re writing now isn’t good enough. Why should anyone read what you have to say? What do you have to say, really?”
The voice in my head is loud. It’s drowning out a lot right now. Especially the voice of God.
When I started this blog several years ago, it was a free WordPress site called swimmingforhim. I started it because I needed a place to write down my thoughts, and somehow people just started reading them.
Fast forward to about 4 years ago while I was in graduate school. My friend and I were leading a women’s Bible study, and we wanted to do a study over the summer, but be able to do it at our own pace via email. We searched for a study that we liked, but we couldn’t fine anything, and eventually my friend suggested that I write the study for the summer. After my initial laughter, I decided to give it a try, and so wrote my first study on the fruit of the Spirit.
Somewhere between then and now, I decided to turn my worpress site into something bigger – an actual ministry. So, I changed the name, I changed the site, and so was born All For Him Life.
When I started, God directed that I would write studies and blog posts and if their only purpose was to help one person, even if that one person was me, it was worth it. It was good.
Not just good enough. Good.
What are you doing today that the voice in your head keeps telling you isn’t good enough? Is it your job? Your method of parenting? Your writing? Your relationship with your spouse?
Don’t listen to that voice. Instead, take your request to God. He will direct your steps and help you to see the purpose in what you are doing, and remind you that you are good enough. He died for you, didn’t he?
So even when – no, especially when – you’re having trouble seeing how what you’re doing for the Kingdom is good enough, lean on Him, let Him be the loudest voice to remind you:
You are enough.
How do I make sense of it? How do I accept that life can be cut off so abruptly – by a gun, by a car crash, by cancer, by any number of things?
Doctors likes to assure us that our life expectancies are high, that we’ve got time, that we’ll live to see our grandkids. That we have time to decide what we really want to be when we grow up. That we have time to grow up.
Do we? Do we have time to put things off until tomorrow, or wait to say something until the next time we see that person? Do we really have time?
Somehow, we’ve been conditioned to live like tomorrow is guaranteed.
But it’s not. We are not promised tomorrow.
Living like tomorrow is promised means that we don’t always say “I love you.” We don’t always resolve our disagreements quickly. We procrastinate. We don’t visit family or friends when we can. We don’t stop and smell the roses. We don’t enjoy each moment we have.
Just because we aren’t guaranteed tomorrow doesn’t mean we don’t plan for the future, invest smartly, save for retirement, or try to do everything today. We still have to have a long-term goal in place. But it does mean that we live differently.
Living differently means taking every chance you get. It means saying, “I love you” every morning before you leave for work. It means taking the time to talk to those around you and offer your shoulder to cry on, even when there are tests that need to be graded. It means giving your kids more time to crawl on top of you and tickle you. It means living each day as if it was your last.
Tomorrow is not promised. It’s a gift. When you unwrap that gift every morning, give thanks. And then go live it to the glory of God the Father.
It was a warm, summer evening many years ago when I first went to a live Casting Crowns concert. I had been listening to their music for years, but had never seen them live. I was so excited – but I had no idea what was in store for me, or what this concert would begin.
My family set up our lawn chairs at the outdoor venue and waited expectantly to hear my favorite Christian group perform. And yet, from the first note they struck, it wasn’t a performance – it was worship.
They were leading worship.
Somehow, the stage wasn’t about them. It was about pointing the crowd to God. At one point near the end of their set, Mark Hall began singing the worship song We Fall Down. He asked that we lay all of our burdens down at the feet of Jesus, and that we lift up someone up in prayer that they would do the same. At that point, I felt moved to walk around a couple of chairs to my younger brother and to lay my hand on him and pray for him, that he would surrender all of his life to the Lord and His leading.
I didn’t think about that concert again until a few years ago, when my brother and I were at another Casting Crowns concert. He leaned over to me and asked, “Do you remember our first Casting Crowns concert?”
“Vaguely,” I replied. “It was at Alive, and our whole family was there.”
“And you prayed for me,” he added.
I hadn’t even remembered that until he brought it up again, but that prayer made an impact on him. He remembers it. He remembers that his big sister prayed specifically for him. He remembers more of what I said than I do. But my measly little prayer that day did more than I ever could have imagined. We’ve been to many Casting Crowns concerts together since, but none sticks in his head so much as that one.
Pray for someone with them today. Not just in private. In person. Out loud. And ask the Spirit to lead you. You never know what God might do with it.
By Kristen Mudrack
I’m not a huge fan of pictures of myself. I tend to want to be the one holding the camera instead of on the other side of it.
You see, I tend to not like the way I look in pictures. The picture was too posed, or the light wasn’t right, or I look fat, or I’m not smiling, or any other such excuse I can come up with. But usually it’s because I don’t like the way I look.
I have this image in my head of what I should look like. In short, perfect. I should look put together, happy, and healthy, even if that’s not actually true at that moment. I think I got this notion from looking at social media – where we all put the best of ourselves out there. The perfect selfies and the happy status updates – they don’t always reflect real life. When did we become so good at pretending?
Pretending that everything is okay, even when it’s falling apart.
Pretending that we’re always happy, even when we’re struggling.
Pretending that we’re always healthy and flourishing, even when that is the furthest thing from the truth.
In social media today, we put forward the best of ourselves. We want people to see the best image of us, not the struggling, frazzled, often overextended person that we actually are. Now, there are things you shouldn’t share on social media. For example, that you’re angry with your significant other or a confidential matter that has been shared with you. But neither should we always be the perfect version of ourselves.
Pictures show that more than anything. I have pictures from college during times that I was on steroids and sicker than ever before. I can tell, in those pictures, that I wasn’t feeling like myself. I have pictures from trips with my family and friends that show beautiful landscapes but also dirty, muddy, sweaty, happy faces. I have pictures from my wedding that show unbridled happiness as never before.
The more I stand on this side of the camera, the more I realize that I love these pictures. Even the ones where I look terrible. Because they show the real me. The messy, dirty, imperfect, happy, sad, healthy, sick, real me.
What do your pictures show? Do they show the real you? Or the you that poses for the camera?
I’ve been searching for inspiration all day. Something to write about. And I’ve come up empty.
Although, I guess that is something.
How often do we search and search and search for something, and even when we think we find it, still feel somehow…lacking? It’s maddening to many people when they try and try to find fulfillment in movies or in fame, in success or in their kids, in how high they can climb at work or how much money they can save. But none of those things will satisfy us. None of that will ultimately fill the void in our lives that only Christ can fill.
We search for that fulfillment in so many ways, every day. And we search for it in good places. We want to be fulfilled in our marriages, in our families, in our work. We are honestly working for good things. But it’s not enough.
We can strive and strive and strive to be the best wife possible, the best sister imaginable, the best ministry leader that we can – but without God, it is nothing. Without Christ at the center, it is meaningless.
So I guess that’s my challenge for me and for you today. Go to God. Sit at His feet and lay your burdens on Him. He can handle it, I promise. Ask Him to fill the void in your life, the places where you feel empty and inadequate, and watch Him work. And then go do what He’s calling you to do – be a wife, a mom, a friend, a teacher, a sister, a daughter. Get up and go, having been fulfilled by the only one that can do so.
By Kristen Mudrack
Perhaps the hardest thing about moving is making new friends.
And I don’t mean friends you can hang out with and have a good time with. I mean friends that you can share everything with – the exciting things, but also the hard things – in your marriage, your kids, your eating habits, your exercise (or lack thereof) habits, your fears, and your dreams, your quiet times and your prayers. Those friends don’t come overnight, and they take time.
When I lived in Michigan, I had that group of friends. I didn’t have it immediately – it took a couple of years. But I had a group of women who I could share anything with, and they could too.
Then I moved. Twice.
I still have those friends, but they aren’t a quick car ride away anymore. I still can tell them anything. I still talk to them regularly. I still count them among the people who know me best. But it’s not the same.
When I moved to TN, God knew that I’d need a friend or two, and he provided. The day I moved into my new apartment, leaving my fiance back in IN, the other new professor in the department and his family moved in too. Two doors down from me in the same apartment complex.
In talking to each other that day and in the days to come, we discovered that we had all grown up in the same area, attended similar churches, and so much more. Their four year old daughter came over to my apartment and “helped” me unpack the day I moved in. Their two year old now knows me as ‘Tisten’ and runs to hug me every time he sees me. We started having dinner together once a week.
When Cody would come to visit me, we’d go over and play with the kids and play games with the whole family. The kids loved Cody because he could do magic tricks with cards. Now this family is our closest friends here in TN. We share much together, and they even made the trip out to our wedding.
God provided more than I ever could have imagined in this family – friends who we hope to be near for many years to come. I love this family, and am privileged to get to live life alongside them. Two doors down, in fact.