Category Archives: Broken

Guest Post: Meno

Broken, dreams, Faithful, Guest Post, Prayer, Testimony

When I lived in Michigan, God brought me some incredible friends whom I have cherished greatly.  Our group of women (and their respective husbands and children) became a group I loved to get together with for anything – games, Bible study, babysitting, or girl’s night.  No matter what each of us is going through, we are always there for each other.  Last year, one of these friends, Heidi, went through a difficult miscarriage.  There were no words we could say, only hugs and shared tears and shoulders to cry on.  Heidi has written these words for you today, no matter what you are going through.  No matter how hard, God is still faithful.  It is truly an honor to invite Heidi to write for All For Him Life today.  

By Heidi O’Neill

Sometimes life just doesn’t make sense.  Sometimes you are rolling along and out of nowhere you get horrible news.  You’re knocked flat on your back and gasping for air, head reeling as you try to come to terms with your new reality.  Maybe for you it was hearing of a sudden death of a family member, a bad diagnosis, your spouse leaving you, or losing your job.  For me it was an ultra sound and a doctor telling me words that my ears would not register – we had lost our daughter to miscarriage.

We had a rocky first trimester but had made it to the second trimester.  My nausea and fatigue had lifted, our doctor felt that we only needed routine care from that point on, and we felt like we were spared.  We felt assured that our fervent prayers and those of our friends and family had been answered.

But then the spotting returned and I set up to go in for a heartbeat check later that day.  I went by myself because we had been told that spotting could just be a part of this pregnancy.  Two nurses couldn’t find the heartbeat.  “Sometimes we just can’t find the heartbeat with the Doppler at this point in the pregnancy,” the nurse told me.  “You are next in line for the ultra sound, we’ll check this out .”  I held out hope while I called my husband and waited for my turn in the ultra sound room.  It had always turned out fine so far.  We prayed together and held our breath.  Nothing could have prepared my heart to hear my doctor explain that although I should I have been 15 weeks pregnant my baby had died around 12 weeks.  We would never get to meet that sweet child here on earth.  Of all the hard things I have been through, nothing had ever rocked my faith like this.

My heart was full of questions.  So many questions.  Why her?  Why my little one?  How could she have died nearly three weeks ago without me knowing anything was wrong?  Why were there no symptoms earlier?  How was I going to tell my 2 year old son who couldn’t wait to be a big brother?  How was I ever going to be ok again?  How was I ever going to trust God again? How can a God who loves let something hurt me like this?  If God really loved me, why did he let this happen?  If God is all powerful, why didn’t he answer these prayers? Why her?  Why us?  Why does this happen to any little ones at all?

Why does a good God allow such awful things to happen to those he loves?

Through the moments, days, and weeks that followed I knew that I should trust God.  I’m a rule-following, people-pleaser by nature and inclined to “do the right thing.”  I told my heart, “trust God, he loves you,” but my mind hurled back more questions, doubts, and plenty of anger.  I knew that in all of the anger and pain I couldn’t make her come back.  I couldn’t fix this, and I couldn’t make it stop hurting.

God turned my mind to one word, meno.  I had fallen in love with this word from a Bible Study of 1 John I did last fall (What Love Is by Kelly Minter).  Meno is greek for remain, abide.  We had studied and looked deeply at this word, specifically in the passage where John calls believers to “remain in the truth.”  It is hard to force yourself to believe something.  I’m strong willed, but even I only have so much will power.  The most precious thing about this word is that it is translated in all of these ways: abide, be held in, wait with expectancy, continue in.

Be held in the truth.

God doesn’t expect us to be faithful to him on our own.  He sent his Spirit to live in us.  The power of God living in us, is helping us to remain in his truth.  He is helping us.  He was and is helping me.  God also warns us that “in this world we will have trouble,” and “Do not be surprised when you face trials of many kinds.”  He knows there would be hard things that will weigh on us and be painful.  When we walk through those things our hearts can feel betrayed.  It is hard to see why a loving God would allow us to walk through such suffering.  Our hearts can be prone to wander and wonder if God even loves us at all.  That is exactly why John calls us to remain in the truth – the truth of the Gospel.

You see, the Gospel is that God created and loves humanity.  He cares for us, provides for us, and in return we have sinned against him over and over and over again.  The Bible tells us that the wages for sin is death and that there is nothing we can do to pay that price.  Yet God, being full of mercy, gave up his own son to pay for our sin.  He sent  Jesus to die a painful, criminal’s death, paying for the sins of the world even though he was sinless.  Jesus died to pay the price for our sin so that through his work we could be forgiven and reconciled to God.  That is the truth.  That is love.  The truth of the Gospel, is that God does love me and gave himself up to be with me.

So in the pain I hold to that truth.  I hold onto it for dear life reminding myself that God is with me, that his promises are true even when it doesn’t feel like it.  It hasn’t been easy and there have been plenty of bad days.   Walking through this suffering I have let this word meno remind me to hold onto the truth of God’s love as well as other truths of scripture.

“I will never leave you or forsake you.” (Heb. 13:5)

“I will strengthen you, help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” (Isaiah 41:10)

“You have kept count of my tossings; put my tears in your bottle.” (Psalm 56:8)

“in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

“God is near to the broken hearted and saves the crushed in spirit.” (Psalm 34:18)

As I have clung to these truths and prayed for strength and peace I don’t want you to think that my questions just went away.  I continued to feel angry, hurt, and so, so sad.  This made me think a lot about Job and how he wrestled with God through questions too.

One Sunday our pastor shared a video about Job(Reading Scripture: Job http://bit.ly/2n5ta5a).  Job went through awful things too.  He suffered and questioned why.  I was surprised that the video pointed out thought that the question of why bad things happen to good people is never answered in his book.  When Job questions God and demands his explanations God does not give him an explanation like he wants.  Instead he shows him that Job is not able to fill the position of God of the Universe and that he cannot understand all of God’s ways.  God invites Job to trust him and his wisdom when hard things happen.

Like Job, I am humbled by God’s awesome power.  I could never dream of running the world.  It is impossible for me to see how all of the pieces of life fit together.  So when hard things come I lean hard into God.  I still ask my questions, and beg for peace, but now I also pray for greater trust.  I pray that God will increase my trust in him and in his wisdom and sovereignty.  I feel so sad and upset that Lilly died, but I do acknowledge there must be more going on that God knew about and I did not.  I pray that God will help me continue to lean hard into him and be assured of his love and good plans for my life.

The day after I delivered Lilly I got the word “meno” tattooed on my left wrist.  I am so forgetful of God’s love and promises that I wanted myself to have a constant, visual reminder to remain in his truth.  I wanted to remind myself that I am held there by the power of the Holy Spirit and I don’t need to do it on my own.  When I see it I pick a truth to focus on and pray that God would help me believe it in my heart more than I know it in my head.

He is faithful.  He is walking with me and is answering those prayers.

He wants to walk with you too.  I pray that you will open your heart to him and let him love you and hold you in his truth too.

More Than Just A Number

Broken, dreams, Faithful

By Kristen Entwistle

I am a Christian.  And I am a scientist.  And sometimes, I get caught up in the numbers, the data, and the predictions.  Particularly when it comes to CF. 

Because my life, for many years, revolved around a number.  37.5.  It was my expiration date.  What medical science said my life would be.  And the scientist in me held onto that.  Through the fault of no one else, I somehow had it through my head that my life had an end point and that I knew at least a general idea of when that would be.  I used to count up the years that I would spend in school, through a PhD program – when I finish I will be in my late 20s.  How many years did that leave me to make an impact?  To do something worthwhile with my life?

I’ve known forever that we can’t know the day or the time or how we’ll go home to the Lord.  It’s been engrained in my head for over two decades.  But somehow, the science and the medicine and the numbers had impeded my faith.

Because it’s not true.  I’m more than just a number.  More than just a disease.  More than just another n in a paper.    I’m more than just my life expectancy. 

number 1

My life already does mean something: because Christ has saved me and set me free from the bondage of sin.  I don’t need to worry about making an impact in this world, because all I can really do is lay down my life at the foot of the cross and ask God to use my life for His glory.

I am living for more than just a number.  I am living for the King of Kings, the Savior of the World.  I have been freely given salvation, grace, and mercy, and the promise of a better life in heaven, where there will be no more pain, no more sickness, and no more death.  I can’t wait for that. 

number 2

But as much as I am looking forward to that, I am going to, to borrow a phrase from La Vida, be here now.  I’ve got to live in the here and now, a vessel for God to use, no matter what.  I’ve got to choose to give the numbers to God, and trust Him to see me through, and to call me home in His timing.

Loaves And Fishes

Broken, Prayer, Testimony

By Kristen Entwistle

On the first Sunday of every month, you’ll find me at a local physical rehabilitation center in the early afternoon.  Along with other talented musicians and speakers, we lead a short worship service for the residents.  Last month, our normal speaker was out of town, and our back-up speaker was ill.  It looked like our entire worship team was going to be our lead guitarist and myself, and that the speaker…well, it was going to be me.

I should probably tell you at this point that I had lost my voice due to the cold I had, and so I couldn’t sing, let alone be heard by the residents.

Yeah, I thought.  This is going to work out well. 

We had many, many people praying for us during this service.  We had faith that God would provide, and that He would be glorified, no matter what.  But God provided more than I could have ever imagined.

loaves and fishes 1

Not only did He provide a pianist, and two other vocalists, He also gave me enough of a voice to be heard for just 15 minutes. 

God bulldozed barriers last month.  He steamrolled my expectations.  He made a way when I thought there wasn’t one, parting the Red Sea right in front of me.

loaves and fishes 2

And true to His sense of humor, you know what the message I gave was on?  Faith. 

Having faith in a God who is able to move mountains, and to use the ordinary for His extraordinary purposes.  Faith in a God who took the sins of the world upon His shoulders, and paid the ultimate price for our sins.  Faith in a God who has conquered death and is now seated at the right hand of the Father.

God reminded me through this short service that even faith as small as a mustard seed can move mountains.  I took what I had – a barely-audible voice, an imperfect message, all my doubts that I wasn’t the one who should be speaking, but a willing heart – and He made it so much more.

The mere loaves and fishes that our team brought were multiplied a hundred fold, all for His glory. 

So I’m going to keep laying down my loaves and fishes at His feet, asking Him in faith to take what I have and use it for His glory.  No matter how useless I may think my loaves and fishes are, He has a purpose for them, and I can’t wait to see what He does with my humble offering.

He Is Faithful

Broken, Faithful, God's love

By Kristen Entwistle

I don’t really celebrate my birthday anymore.  It’s really just like any other day.

Twenty-five years ago, my parents were told that, because of my disease, I wouldn’t live to see my twenties.  Since my birth, medicine and science have provided some new treatments that have increased the life expectancy to 37.

And here I am, at the age of 25, still living, breathing, and praising God for every day. 

It’s pretty amazing that God could take this broken body and use it for His glory.

It’s almost unbelievable that He can take my story, my brokenness, my disease, my sickness, and use it to draw myself and others closer to Him. 

He’s given me a voice to sing His praises, and a platform to share Him with those around me.

And so today, I’m going to celebrate His faithfulness.

I’m going to celebrate what He has done, and what He has brought me through.  The fires that He has brought me through have refined me.  The trials that He has walked with me through have strengthened me.  Through the valleys and the mountains, He has been faithful, and He will continue to be faithful to the end of time.

That’s something to be thankful for.  That’s something to celebrate.

Phil 1 6

***Also published at brokenbeautifulBOLD.com ***

Messy Canvas Of Life

Broken, God's love, , ,

By Kristen Entwistle

I’m not a super-crafty person.  For example, when I try to paint something, it usually ends up looking like a 2-year-old’s art project that you hang on the fridge – which is cute from a 2-year-old, but not from a 24-year old.  Needless to say, my ‘art’ is usually recycled with the cardboard boxes.

Think of your life as a canvas.  Everything shows up on it – the good, the bad, and the ugly.   You try to cover up the things that you don’t want others to see – which usually ends up just making it look messy.  You try to paint over the mistakes – sometimes it works, but then the paint starts peeling.  Maybe there’s a corner of your canvas that you’ve tried to keep white.  And now it’s got smudges.  Maybe your canvas, like mine, ends up looking more like a mess than a beautiful picture.  Maybe your life, like mine, ends up looking a little messy.  You begin to wonder if God wants your mess, your brokenness.  Your messy canvas of life. But, my friend,

It’s those messes that God uses in His glorious masterpiece.  

Up close, the giant canvas of God’s plan looks a little splotchy, a little messy, a little disjointed.  Up close, it looks like it doesn’t all fit together.  But as you step further away, you begin to see it.

All of the broken pieces fit together perfectly.

All of the smudges look like they were meant to be.

All of the colors blend seamlessly together.

But it’s all made up of messy pieces.  Messy canvases.  My life.  Your life.

The great grace of God brings together all of our broken, scratched, smudged, messy pieces and puts them together in just the right way to bring about His plan, His masterpiece.

He wipes our canvas clean when we accept Him as Savior. 

And then He starts painting. 

Our canvas may still look like a mess to us.  But when God is done, when we see ourselves in the bigger picture, our messy life fits perfectly into exactly what He wanted us to be: His children.

messy canvas

When Your Walls Fall Down

Broken, Faithful, Testimony, Walls, , ,

By Kristen Entwistle

When you were a kid, did you build towers with the big cardboard blocks?  Maybe you built the highest tower possible, or maybe you were the kid that ran around knocking down everyone else’s towers.

When I was a kid, I liked to build walls around myself.  Enclose myself in so that the walls were all around me.

And I’ve done the same thing with my life.

Maybe, like me, you’ve built walls around your life.  You convince yourself that they keep your heart safe.  You convince yourself that the higher your walls, the safer you are.  You convince yourself that the thicker your walls, the less people can see of the real you, and that’s a good thing.  Because if they were really to see your sin, your hurt, your brokenness, your pain – they wouldn’t want to know you.  They’d run in the other direction.

I used to think that my walls were my security, my protection from the world, from the hurt. 

That if I had higher, thicker walls, no one could see the real me: the ugly, torn, and worn girl who does not see herself as beautiful; the girl who struggles with feelings of worth and inadequacy; the girl with the life-shortening illness; the girl who is alone; the hurt, broken, sinner in desperate need of a Savior.

When we build up our walls, we end up pretending.  Pretending to be someone we’re not.  Pretending that those words didn’t hurt; that being rejected…again…wasn’t painful.  Pretending that it’s all okay on the outside but falling hopelessly apart on the inside.  Pretending that we don’t struggle with things, too.  Pretending that our past isn’t as checkered as the flag at the end of the race.  Pretending that we don’t have secrets we’d rather keep hidden.

Take a few minutes and listen to this song, from Tenth Avenue North, Healing begins:

So let ‘em fall down,

There’s freedom waiting in the sound,

When you let your walls fall to the ground.

We’re here now.

This is where the healing begins,

This is where the healing starts. 

When you come to where you’re broken within,

The light meets the dark.

So you’re telling me that if I let my walls down, let down my guard, let people see the real me, the messed up, broken me – that it will bring freedom?  Oh, more than that, dear friend.  It will bring healing.  Healing from the heartache, the guilt, and the pain.  As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed your sins from you (Psalm 103:12).  All of your scars, all of your sins – they are forgotten to Him.

The walls you and I hide behind aren’t doing us any favors.  They aren’t helping us or anyone else.  In fact, when people see the real you – the struggles, the brokenness, the weakness, the imperfection – they see the grace of our Savior.  They see a God whose power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9).  They see that they are not alone in their struggles.  They are reminded that He is faithful.

And letting your walls down reminds you that you are not alone.

Your Testimony

Broken, God's love, Testimony, , , ,

 

By Kristen EntwistleYour-testimony-300x150Sharing your testimony is a phrase that we throw around a lot in Christian circles.  For a long time, I didn’t think that I had a testimony.  When people shared their testimonies at summer camp, retreats, or from the pulpit, they were always testimonies that were so heart-breaking yet so powerful and moving that they spoke of a great God.  I didn’t think there was any way that I could measure up to that.

It was at a Christian summer camp in middle school that started to change my mind. Our group traveled into the city to a park, where we were asked to share our testimony with some inner city kids.

The guy before me pulled out one of those perfect testimonies
that left my heart in pieces on the floor
and my hands raised to our eternal God. 

His story: being misdiagnosed at birth with the very disease that I have.

Well, that put my “testimony” in the trash.  I took the paper out of my pocket and ripped it up.  I don’t remember what I said.  The one thing I remember is that I told them that I had Cystic Fibrosis (CF).  I’m pretty sure I started crying at that point and sat down.

But I still was convinced that other people’s testimonies
were better than my nonexistent one. 

It wasn’t until my senior year in college that God showed me how very wrong I was.  My pastor at the time asked if I would be willing to share my testimony during the service one Sunday.

I said no.

He kept asking, and eventually I said yes, just so that he would quit asking.  Having no clue what to say, I prayed and then sat down and started to write.  And as I wrote, I found myself being honest and vulnerable and I saw God’s hand in my life, leading me from before I was conceived until now.

I thought that I was just a person with an early expiration date that couldn’t do anything for the Kingdom.

I thought that my struggles were my own and that no one else struggled with them too.

I thought that God could never use a person so broken as me.

I thought that that I didn’t have a testimony to share.

I thought that my testimony was about me. 

But here’s the thing:

Your testimony is not about what you have overcome in life, though that is part of it.

Your testimony is not about what you have suffered in life, though that is part of it.

Your testimony is not about you, though you are the vessel through which it is brought to others.

Your testimony is about a God who has known you from before you were born.

Your testimony is about a God who has brought you through the fire so that you can be refined.  Your testimony is about a God who has been by your side and who has loved you even when you have walked away from Him.  Your testimony is about a God who sent His one and only Son to redeem the world.  Your testimony is about a God who chose you: a broken, beautiful, bold child of God.

So no matter how broken you think you are, no matter how far you have strayed, no matter how boring you may think your life is, God has done something in you.  He has redeemed you, and He is working out your testimony in His time.  You may not be able to see it right now.  God’s not done with you yet.  But that doesn’t mean that you don’t have a testimony right now.

So share your life with people, share with them the God that has redeemed you.  Share with them the power of our great God.

Share with them the God who knows you and loves you no matter what. 

Because you are a testament to God’s great love, and that is a powerful testimony.  It’s your testimony.  

*This post first appeared at brokenbeautifulbold.com*