https://soundcloud.com/allforhimlife/proverbs-1-choose-wisdom
What I Need More Than Anything Right Now
By Kristen Entwistle
We’re about two weeks into the new year, and it’s about time for those resolutions to start slipping.
Gyms become emptier.
Chips and cookies start appearing on the counter again.
Bibles lie closed, collecting dust.
Pews are empty at the back of the church.
No matter what resolutions you made – be it to eat healthier, read your Bible more, exercise more – you’re going to fail. You’ll eat a cookie. You’ll miss your reading plan one morning. You’ll work too late to go the gym. You can either let these failures hold you down, or you can get back up and try again. But even more than that, I want you to ask yourself today why you made the resolutions that you did.
Was it to be skinnier, to fit into your old jeans, or to be a better person on the outside? Was it to prove to someone else that you can do it on your own, or to improve others’ opinions of you?
I’m not saying that any of those reasons are wrong, or that some of them (read: all of them) haven’t crossed my mind in these last few weeks.
Why do I want to improve others’ opinions of myself?
Because I’m finding my identity in their approval rather than in Christ.
Why do I want to be skinnier?
Because I’m finding my identity in the mirror rather than through the eyes of my Savior.
Why do I want to prove that I can do it on my own?
Because I’m trying to prove that I don’t need God.
I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in my identity crisis. And believe it or not, I have a way out – and I’m hoping to gain something from it, too. And I’m wondering if you’ll join me.
You see, what I need more than anything right now is wisdom. The wisdom to know when to shut up and when to speak up. The wisdom to know when enough is enough, and when to say no. The wisdom to know how to live out the Gospel. The wisdom to know when to tough it out and when to back out. The wisdom to learn loving like Jesus, living like Jesus, and dying like Jesus.
So this year, I’m going to do an audio series through the book of Proverbs – one of the books of wisdom in the Bible – one chapter, every Wednesday. If you’re counting with me, that means we’ll be in the book of Proverbs (and other books along the way) until the middle of August. Yup. Maybe you can listen in while you’re washing the dishes or while you’re vacuuming the living room. Or maybe while you’re driving to work or playing with the kids.
What I want more than anything from this study is to learn wisdom while sitting at the feet of Jesus. Won’t you consider joining me?
When God Is At Work, And We Just Have To Stand Back And Say Wow
By Kristen Entwistle
Sometimes I just have to stand back and marvel at how God works. It’s pretty amazing.
In late October, I came across Simple Moments Stick, where they were pairing up bloggers from around the world for the month of November to encourage one another. I ended up getting paired up with Nichole from My Anchored Life. I must admit, I definitely went into this whole thing completely on a whim, not really knowing what to expect.
And God blew away my expectations. Big time.
I started by reading through some of Nichole’s blog. God has certainly given Nichole the gift of writing, and she is using it for His glory. Her blog is anchored in Christ, as is her life, and she seemed like an awesome person that I really wanted to get to know.
When I first e-mailed Nichole, I was afraid she was going to take one look at my e-mail and ask for a different partner. Not because I’m scary or demanding, but because she wanted someone who was more on her level. You see, Nichole’s a home-school mom of four kids, while I am mom of none. Nichole is married to her military husband and has moved many places over her life, while I am…not. Nichole spent the month of October blogging EVERY DAY, while I definitely did not.
And then…she e-mailed me back.
And God did something amazing. He took two totally different people from two different stages of life and gave them connections – connections that are no coincidence. Nichole and I both went into this blind. We both have busy, full lives that allow us to correspond during the week. We both started writing and blogging as hobbies and have watched it turn into something more. And Nichole has known two people with CF throughout her life. And she lives in a state that I am going to visit this month – which means we actually get to meet face to face.
Coincidences? I think not.
I’m still a little floored by the fact that God orchestrated this, and that He knew what I needed before I even needed it. I’m so grateful that God has brought Nichole into my life and that we have the opportunity to meet face to face. She has been an encouragement and a friend to me in this last month, and I couldn’t have asked for a better ‘sister.’
Thank You
By Kristen Entwistle
As my family gathered around the table last week to celebrate Thanksgiving, I found myself caught up in the to-do list. Is the table set? Is the right tablecloth on the table? Is the pumpkin pie made? Is the turkey carved? Why isn’t the gravy thickening? Are the candles lit? Why isn’t everyone at the table? Oh no, we forgot the butter! Are the sweet potatoes done?
After the dishes were put away, the pie and turkey had been consumed, and the Lions won (what!!), I finally turned my attention to giving thanks. It wasn’t about the turkey, or the pie, or the game of Dutch Blitz I won, or even football. It’s about saying, “Thank you” even when you don’t think you have anything to be thankful for.
Thank you in the midst of the unknown, in the middle of cancer. Thank you in the midst of funerals and hospice care. Thank you even when the world and its violence doesn’t make sense. Thank you in the middle of the falling apart, the impossible, and the unexplained.
It’s thank you when all you see around you is the darkness, the violence, the unknown. It’s thank you for what I have, even if it seems so little – it’s more than I deserve already. It’s thank you for every day, not just this day, the day that reminds me to be thankful. It’s thank you for the food on my table, and the people around it, both near and far. It’s thank you for life, and love, and learning, and growing. It’s thank you for the cross.
Thank you for Your grace – because it is something freely given that I do not deserve, or have to earn.
Thank you for Your love – because it is perfect, holy, and true. It is so much more than I ever can imagine.
Thank you for Your mercy – on me, a sinner.
Thank you for Your Son – the Savior of the world, whose advent we await with confident expectation this season.
The Hollywood Version
By Kristen Entwistle
We all face battles in our lives, struggles, suffering. It’s different for each of us. For me, the looming giant in my way is a little thing called cystic fibrosis (and all it entails).
I’ve often told people that I can’t do the ‘sick kid’ books and movies – you know, the tear jerkers like My Sister’s Keeper: the girl who dies in a car crash, giving her organs to save her sister with cancer; or The Fault in Our Stars: the two cancer patients who fall in love and then one of them dies; A Walk To Remember: the handsome young man falling in love with the sick girl, giving her the ability to make the most out of her last days; or even the Fox TV show Red Band Society: the teenagers who live in a hospital and become fast friends because they’re all sick.
I’ve read those books, tried to watch those shows. But they don’t really depict real life for those of us with any disease, at least in my experience.
The reality is that life is often hard physically – the treatments, the demands on our bodies from the therapies – it can take a toll, sometimes ones that you can see, but many times ones that you can’t.
The reality is that life is often hard emotionally – only people who have been through what we are experiencing can really understand. And though you try to sympathize and understand (which we appreciate greatly) what we are going through, the reality is that we often go through it alone. We don’t want to burden you with our fears, insecurities, and all of the baggage that comes with a chronic illness. We’re trying to spare you – but it often means we are left alone.
The reality is that life is often hard Spiritually – reconciling our struggles with a good God, the creator of everything, and why He is allowing these things to happen in our lives.
The reality is that life is often hard mentally – having few people to lean on because they are scared away by your disease, storing it all up inside and only falling apart behind closed doors.
The books and the TV shows almost make it look like it’d be fun to be sick. They romanticize it. They say that you’d be unique, different, and everyone would just love you for who you are, no matter what. That living in a hospital would be cool. That it’s not scary to have a real idea of how long you’ve got left on earth. That no one treats you differently. That your life isn’t different from anyone else’s. That people will fall in love with you in spite of your sickness, never rejecting you for your disease.
Pardon my French, but I call BS.
Complete and total BS.
Life is not often like it is portrayed in movies and TV shows – sick or not.
Real life is often messier than the media portrays it.
Real people aren’t stick skinny and eat ten calories per day. Real people play in the dirt, and that’s okay. Real people don’t have it all together all the time. Real people struggle, fail, fall, and scrape their knees.
Although my life has not been as pretty and prefect as the media may portray it, it’s actually been so much better. Because I live alongside other real people, who help to pick me up when I fall down, and who take my hand when they fall down. I live alongside people who are struggling with hard things, and get to watch as they grow in faith and shine His light so brightly even in the midst of all of it. I get to invite people into my life, and get to pour into theirs. I get to play with kids, who bring genuine smiles to my face no matter what else has happened that day. I get to see God work in amazing ways through my friends, and get to let Him work through me.
I’d rather have real life with Christ any day of the week than the romanticized version we see on the screen, no matter how hard it is.
Wouldn’t you?
Waiting On The World To Change: Down Bourbon Street
By Kristen Entwistle
A few months ago, I took a trip to New Orleans for a scientific conference. The famous Bourbon Street was a ten minute walk from our hotel, and we ate dinner in the French Quarter nearly every night.
My first trip down Bourbon Street was crowded and I was mostly just trying to keep track of my group so that I didn’t get lost in the throng of people.
My second trip down Bourbon Street, I got to take a better look around.
And I didn’t like what I saw.
Every other brightly lit sign enticed people to come into strip clubs and sleezy bars and questionable establishments. (To be fair, there are some reputable and higher class bars/restaurants on Bourbon Street). But it’s not just the signs that these establishments use to try to get people to come through their doors. At every strip club, there is at least one bouncer telling people to come in and that it’s free and what they’re going to get when they go in. And in the doorway, there’s always at least one scantily clad (sometimes not at all clad) woman moving her body to get the boys on the street to come in. And then there are the college students, clearly on spring break, on the balconies above the street, throwing beads down to the people walking through the street, whooping and cat-calling for anyone they (in their drunken state) found attractive.
My third trip down Bourbon Street, I was tired and not really paying attention to what was around me. It was raining, and I was mostly trying not to get our group lost.
My fourth trip down Bourbon Street, I was overwhelmed. The line from a song that came to mind: Waitin’, waitin’, I’m waitin’ on the world to change.
I was filled with sadness at the things that I was walking past. My heart broke for the people for whom this was their only reality, for whom this may be their only option for a job. I wanted so much to yell up at the college students on the balconies, “There’s so much more to life than this. Don’t waste your life chasing things that won’t satisfy. Come to the well, where Jesus will freely give you Living Water, and salvation.”
But when the bright lights and pretty beads and glittering storefronts beckon, it’s a hard sell for anything else. The Church doesn’t dazzle in the moonlight or have a glowing sign. In fact, our lights are usually off and our doors locked at the hours that Bourbon Street is open.
We’ve got to do more than just wait on the world to change – because on its own, it won’t. But I’m not suggesting we go hand out tracts on Bourbon Street, either. Let’s start by living life so that people can see whom we serve. Let’s love like Jesus loved, no matter what people have done or how different they are from us.
And maybe, just maybe, we’ll be doing more than just waiting on the world to change.
More Than Just A Number
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.
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.
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.
Not My Dreams, But Yours
By Kristen Entwistle
I don’t put much stock in dreaming. Mostly because I find that the dreams (as in hopes and aspirations) I have end up getting squashed by the world or by other people. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t particularly like this song the first few times I heard it. Then I actually started listening.
The song talks about David, his dreams of being a ‘big-time shepherd someday.’ But God had bigger plans for him than shepherding sheep. David was going to the shepherd king, the one on whom the lineage of Jesus rested. The song talks about Mary, who dreamed of having a family.
But God had bigger plans for her: raising a king.
Makes me wonder what kind of dreams God has for me.
Because if I allow myself to really think about it, I do have dreams: Dreams of white dresses and of kids playing in the backyard. Dreams of teaching and writing and speaking. Dreams of contributing in a very small way to CF research. Dreams of loving the next generation to Jesus.
Sometimes I start to wonder if I’m just deluding myself, hoping that these dreams might someday come true. Sometimes I wonder if dreaming is worth it – if I’m just going to be disappointed.
Because when you’re in the thick of life, when it feels like you’re sinking in the quicksand, straining against the current or stuck in the mud – I find that it’s harder to stay positive, and easier to be cynical and bitter.
But then I come back to this song, Dream For You. What would happen if I let God dream for me instead?
What if I was just have willing to say, “God, do with me and my life what you will. I’m willing to live all of my life for you. Not my will, but yours be done. Not my dreams, God, but yours.”
It’s not like my dreams are unrealistic – being a princess or having a castle or being a millionaire. But in the end, God has a better plan for me than I could ever imagine. And yes, I hope that some of the things that I dream of will come true someday. But I’m going to let Him dream for me tonight, and wait and see what He’s got in store.
So come on, let me dream, let me dream for you
I am strong, when you’re weak I will carry you
So let go of your plans, be caught in my hand
I’ll show you what I can do
When I dream for you
Loaves And Fishes
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.
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.
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.
Faith and Grace
By Kristen Entwistle
On June 17, 2015, a 21-year old white man walked into a church during a prayer service and murdered nine people. Among those killed was the senior pastor and state senator Clementa Pinckney. Clem, as he was better known, was preaching at the age of 13, pastor by 18. At the age of 23, he was elected as a state legislator to the South Carolina House of Representatives. He married his wife Jennifer in 1999, and had two daughters, Eliana and Malana. President Barack Obama began his eulogy for Clem this way:
Giving all praise and honor to God.
The Bible calls us to hope. To persevere, and have faith in things not seen.
‘They were still living by faith when they did,’ Scripture tells us. ‘They did not receive the things promised, they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on Earth.’
We are here today to remember a man of God who lived by faith. A man who believed in things not seen. A man who believed there were better days ahead, off in the distance. A man of service who persevered, knowing full well he would not receive all those things he was promised, because he believed his efforts would deliver a better life for those who followed.1
The President went on to tell of the things that Clem had done in his life, and the mark he had left by his faith on his congregation, his family, and his country. Clem was a modern-day man of faith, one who followed in faith to where God called him. He was not perfect, but he followed in faith. We don’t know all of the details of Reverend Pinckney’s life. But the people who did know him knew of his faith. And they tell of it still today.
Remember how we defined faith? We said that faith encompasses “a firm conviction, producing a full acknowledgement of God’s revelation or truth, a personal surrender to Him, and a conduct inspired by such surrender.”2 Faith isn’t just belief or just giving our lives to Christ, or even just how we are living. It’s a combination of all three. This is the faith that our heroes in Hebrews 11 showed us, and that those living by faith still show today.
We’ve seen throughout this study that God uses ordinary, messed up, broken people to fulfill His purposes. He used a prostitute, a murderer, a doubter, an adulterer, a stealer, and a cheater to show us examples of faith. How much more does He use us, His imperfect vessels, for His purposes through faith.
Join me as we enter the final chapter of our Hebrews 11 Study!
Download Chapter 14 now!