The Biggest Lie About Surrender – and Why You Can’t Afford to Believe It

So blessed to have Jennifer Lee on the blog today. Sharing a piece she wrote about surrender and control. I’ve been a part of her launch team for her new book that releases today- “It’s All Under Control” – Praying it blesses you.

If you asked me five years ago, I naively would have told you that I didn’t struggle with control. I mean, seriously— as long as everything went exactly the way I hoped, I was totally flexible.

It’s not that I wanted to control other people. Mostly, I wanted to control myself. If I ever had high expectations of anyone, it was of me. I wanted to present the self-assured, together version of my whole being. Which means I craved control over my face, my emotions, my body, my food, my words, my house, my schedule, my yard, my future.

My preference was a tidy, predictable, safe life where no one got hurt, where my kids remained in one piece, where there was no pain for anyone ever again, amen.
I said I trusted God but had reached the point where I realized I actually didn’t.
As a Jesus girl, this shocked me.

Clearly, my old systems of coping weren’t working: My desire to obsessively orchestrate my whole life was burning me out.

As a mom, I heard myself snapping at my kids. As a ministry leader, I knew that I was functioning within my call, but I didn’t feel fulfilled. I was tired, even after a regular night’s sleep. And I found myself zoning out during conversations with my husband, because I was mentally making lists of everything I needed to get done.

In short, I ran out of gas.

Maybe the empty tank was God’s way of bringing me to a dead stop, so I would finally pay attention. It worked. God got my attention, and maybe he’s trying to get yours too.

Imagine that it’s you who’s run out of gas. Maybe that doesn’t take much imagining after all, because like me, you’re tired of trying to hold it together. You want to keep it all under control, but things aren’t working out the way you planned.

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When you and I began to follow Jesus, we relinquished control over our lives. But because we suffer from the chronic condition known as being human we constantly try to steal that control back.

My wake-up call happened when I realized that the battle for my heart was regularly being fought inside the tiny squares of my to-do list.

I began to ask myself this question: “What are the things that, if they were taken away, would shatter the identity I have created?”

Was it my work? My calendar? My efforts to shield my children from pain and suffering? This urge to always say yes?

For me, the answer was: “All of the above.” I was trying to be the CEO of everything.

Jesus delivered a sobering reminder: You will never know if you can trust Me if you don’t give Me the chance to prove it.

I recommitted myself to a life surrendered to Jesus’ plans for my life. But something felt … off … when I considered what surrender truly meant.

I accidentally bought into a weird idea that surrendered living meant mostly that I needed to “do less.” Yet that was unrealistic because so much of life clearly couldn’t be opted out of. People depended on me. I had kids to feed. A house to manage. Books to write.

Most people can’t simply fire their lives and move on when it gets too chaotic. We can’t stop managing a household, cancel all our appointments, and spend the rest of our days on a floatie in the middle of a lake.

Here’s what I began to learn: Surrendered living is much more than “doing less.” It’s being more of who God created us to be.

Yes, I totally need more chill in my life, and maybe you do too. But here’s the full truth about surrender:

Surrender doesn’t come with some unrealistic demand that you are suddenly going to stop being the incredibly brave and brilliant woman that you are. Real surrender appreciates God’s remarkable design in you.

Do you know what a wonder you are?

You don’t settle. You are the sort of woman we can count on to meet a work deadline, organize a food drive, take in the neighbors’ kids during an emergency, drive your coworker to chemo, counsel a friend at 3 a.m. by text message, keep track of everyone’s appointments, and make sure we’re all wearing seat belts before you drive us on the three-day adventure that you single-handedly arranged.

We need you. We need take-charge, charitable women like you as doctors and nurses in operating rooms where details like “proper disinfectant” matter. Let me tell it to you straight: If you have an inner control freak, I’m hoping you’ll let her bust loose like nobody’s business if someone I love is on your operating table. We need responsible women like you to control all the bleeding.

We also need you in charge of schools, nonprofits, and Fortune 500 companies. We need rock-star women like you to show us that surrender isn’t “lie down in a pile.” It’s “march forward like a warrior.” Sometimes surrendering to God will require you to do the hardest work you’ve ever done in your life: take in another foster child, fight for your marriage, kick cancer where the sun don’t shine, or refuse to capitulate to the persistent drubbing from Satan.

Girl, listen up. We count on you. You are a woman fervently devoted to God’s calling on your life, not only in your work but also in your relationships.
Of course, as Carrie Underwood will sing to you, Jesus is definitely taking the wheel. But make no mistake: There are times when he’s going to ask you to do some driving.

Don’t think of Jesus as your chauffeur; he is more like your driver’s ed coach.
He’s there to teach you His rules of the road. Friend, do not fear the wheel. You have been equipped to drive—and Jesus is beside you when you steer the wrong way. Hopefully He will pull the emergency brake if necessary, and I’ve personally put in a request for roads lined with padded walls.
 The windows are rolled down, the music is cranked, the tank is full, and there’s something that looks like freedom on the horizon.
Out on the open road, may you feel the reassuring love of Jesus. On this journey toward surrender, you’ll discover that, at last, it really is all under control: God’s.

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BIO: Jennifer Dukes Lee is the wife of an Iowa farmer, mom to two girls, and an author. She loves queso and singing too loudly to songs with great harmony. Once upon a time, she didn’t believe in Jesus. Now, He’s her CEO. Jennifer’s newest book, “It’s All Under Control”, and a companion Bible study, are releasing today! This is a book for every woman who is hanging on tight and trying to get each day right―yet finding that life often feels out of control and chaotic.

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Adapted from It’s All under Control: A Journey of Letting Go, Hanging On, and Finding a Peace You Almost Forgot Was Possible by Jennifer Dukes Lee, releasing this fall from Tyndale House Publishers.

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“Keep Running the Race Set Before You”

“Keep Running the Race Set Before You”

Welcome to my Summer Blog Swap. Over the past few weeks, I have been sharing posts from a few of my writing friends. Sharing pieces of their hearts and perspectives. Blessed to be a part of this, and introducing some of my favorite writers to you. This week I want to introduce to you Dorina Gilmore

We met through a group called Hope*Writers.
Dorina Lazo Gilmore is a blogger, speaker and author of Glory Chasers and Flourishing Together. Blessed to be able to share her words with you.

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Photo credit: Kolleen Gladden on Unsplash

“Marathon Lessons: How to persevere when your race isn’t turning out how you expected”

We began to inch toward the start line. Throngs of runners from 100 countries around the world joined us for this epic race – the 40th Chicago Marathon. I tried not to focus on my nervousness and instead enjoy the experience of being there with so many people from all walks of life chasing the same goal.

About a year before, I started dreaming up ways to celebrate my 40th birthday. Choosing something for my 40th carried some weight and grief for me as I remembered that my beloved went to Heaven in his 40th year of life. Running the Chicago Marathon bubbled to the surface as a big challenge I wanted to work toward. I live in Central California now so journeying together with my family back to the city where I grew up seemed like a memorable way to celebrate.

I run races year-round, but my focused training for the marathon began in June. My friend and I disciplined ourselves to run before dawn and the stifling heat of the day descended on Central California. We enjoyed long weekend runs on the trails around our city. Those runs afforded me a new rhythm of quiet to connect with God, to process my grief, to breathe new life to my dreams.

And now, five months later, the big day was here. As the announcer signaled for us to start, I felt a surge of excitement. We began to navigate the streets and neighborhoods of Chicago. I tried to take one mile at a time and not focus on the entire 26.2 miles before me, which was still daunting.

The first challenge was finding space to run. With 44,000 runners, I had to do a lot of weaving and negotiating to find a path for my feet. The timing had to be just right. You don’t want to cut anyone off, but you also don’t want to get stuck behind a group running a slower pace. Runners elbowed me and pushed me more than once. My hubby-coach ran next to me, and my training partner ran just ahead. I tried to steady the cadence of my breathing. The three of us struggled to stay together because of all the people surrounding us.

I started thinking about a passage in Hebrews I have been working to memorize with a group of women from my church. It says,

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:1-3).

We began to inch toward the start line. Throngs of runners from 100 countries around the world joined us for this epic race – the 40th Chicago Marathon. I tried not to focus on my nervousness and instead enjoy the experience of being there with so many people from all walks of life chasing the same goal.

About a year before, I started dreaming up ways to celebrate my 40th birthday. Choosing something for my 40th carried some weight and grief for me as I remembered that my beloved went to Heaven in his 40th year of life. Running the Chicago Marathon bubbled to the surface as a big challenge I wanted to work toward. I live in Central California now so journeying together with my family back to the city where I grew up seemed like a memorable way to celebrate.

I run races year-round, but my focused training for the marathon began in June. My friend and I disciplined ourselves to run before dawn and the stifling heat of the day descended on Central California. We enjoyed long weekend runs on the trails around our city. Those runs afforded me a new rhythm of quiet to connect with God, to process my grief, to breathe new life to my dreams.

And now, five months later, the big day was here. As the announcer signaled for us to start, I felt a surge of excitement. We began to navigate the streets and neighborhoods of Chicago. I tried to take one mile at a time and not focus on the entire 26.2 miles before me, which was still daunting.

The first challenge was finding space to run. With 44,000 runners, I had to do a lot of weaving and negotiating to find a path for my feet. The timing had to be just right. You don’t want to cut anyone off, but you also don’t want to get stuck behind a group running a slower pace. Runners elbowed me and pushed me more than once. My hubby-coach ran next to me, and my training partner ran just ahead. I tried to steady the cadence of my breathing. The three of us struggled to stay together because of all the people surrounding us.

I started thinking about a passage in Hebrews I have been working to memorize with a group of women from my church. It says,

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles. And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith” (Hebrews 12:1-3).


Remember the witnesses.

These verses came to me at just the right time, providing inspiration for tackling the race ahead. At mile 3, we passed our family cheering crew – my parents, three daughters, my sister and brother’s family, and even some friends who have become family through the years. They motivated us on with smiles, high fives, hugs and hand-decorated signs. Not only were we surrounded by more than 1.5 million fans lining the streets of Chicago, but we were supported by our people, our witnesses.

I couldn’t help reflecting on how critical the support of my people has been through the years. My tribe has supported me at races, the births of my girls, graduations, weddings and more. They stood with me at my husband’s bedside when he battled cancer. They held me tight at the grave when we surrendered him to Heaven. Their encouragement buoys my strength.

As I ran the race, I could almost hear my Ericlee cheering from Heaven. I imagined him pumping his fist and calling out in that bellowing coaching voice. I thought of the others gathering in Heaven with him to witness my race. I saw my grandparents on both sides, many dear friends, and other heroes of the faith. This is the power of a community of support. I do not believe we humans are meant to run the race alone.

Weed out the thoughts that entangle.

I felt a little slower than usual. I couldn’t find my pace and my stomach felt queasy. I made it past the half marathon point. At mile 15, I knew I had to find a bathroom fast. Just in the nick of time, I found one. After waiting in line, I got back out on the course with my team. I was disappointed because I knew I had lost precious minutes there. I felt weak.

My running partner said she was going to go on ahead. I have to admit this was hard. I don’t blame her a bit. In fact, I probably would have made the same choice if the tables were turned. The competitive side of me just had a hard time accepting that I couldn’t push harder to stay with her.

I would say about 80 percent of running a marathon is the mental game. My mind started to spiral downward at this point. The temperature was rising. The sun started to beat down on me. I felt tired with each plodding step. I was disappointed in myself and felt ashamed that my husband had to run such a slow pace to keep me going. I started to compare myself to others in my mind.

Then those words rang out: “Let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles.” I was hindered by my self talk. My sin was in my attitude, my comparing, my jealousy, my shame. I felt like a tangled mess. I wanted to just lay down in the middle of the street and ugly cry.

I knew I had to rally. My husband offered to carry my hydration vest for me. I literally had to throw that thing off my tired shoulders and figuratively throw off my negative self talk as well.

Run with perseverance.

I didn’t realize it until later when my hubby told me but I started saying the words to the verse out loud: “And let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us…” I kept thinking about that word perseverance. It means persisting in spite of difficulty, obstacles or discouragement.

I reminded myself that I believe in doing hard things. I want to model that for my daughters. If I have learned anything in my grief journey, I have learned that the best way to navigate grief is to lean in, to take the next step, and the next. I made it to mile 20.

On mile 22, God sent me an angel. There was a woman on the side of the street giving the most rousing victory speech. Her words spoke truth and life into me. She reminded me that the marathon is about grit and glory. I believe that we are to be glory chasers, giving glory to God even in the most difficult times. Here was my chance. I had to run the race marked out just for me.

Follow the pacer.

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Photo credit: Mārtiņš Zemlickis on Unsplash

I’m not going to lie. Those last 4.2 miles were not easy. I was hot. I could feel the chafing beneath my shirt. I kept drinking water but still remained thirsty. Everyone around me was walking. I was tempted to stop, but I couldn’t. Shawn started running just ahead of me then. I knew what he was doing. He was pacing me. He knew I needed someone to follow, someone to chase. I fixed my eyes on his neon yellow “Run Big” shirt, and we ran.

And these words were running through my mind: “…fixing our eyes on Jesus, the pioneer and perfecter of faith.” Some days are just hard. Sometimes the race is not what we hoped for or expected. It’s easy to focus my eyes on my shortcomings and disappointments. Hebrews 12 reminds me where to fix my eyes – on Jesus. He’s the pioneer, the first, the one blazing the trail, my pacer for life.

We had one last hill to climb and then we turned the corner. That bright red banner screaming “FINISH” was my invitation. I shifted to that last gear, and ran my guts out.

And in the end, it turns out the marathon was not just a birthday challenge to accomplish. The marathon was an important teacher for life. I learned to remember the witnesses, weed out the thoughts that entangle, run with perseverance and follow the Pacer.

All for His glory!

“Mustard Seed Size Faith”

“Mustard Seed Size Faith”

It’s another Tuesday sharing for July. Welcome to my Summer Blog Swap. During Tuesdays in July I am sharing posts from four of my writing friends. Sharing pieces of their hearts and perspectives. Blessed to be a part of this, and introducing some of my favorite writers to you. This week I want to introduce to you Lea Turner.

We met through a group called Hope*Writers. Lea is so very encouraging.
So happy to share her words with you today. I hope it blesses and encourages you. Especially if you are wondering where and when your miracle will happen.

When Your Faith Seems Seemingly Small
October 17, 2017 Lea Turner

I sat in the quiet stale room of the hospital, six years ago, listening only to the beeping sounds of the machines.

I wasn’t sure how we got here, except that it all started with an email from our adoption agency asking if we could take a baby with a severe heart defect. I had no idea, seven months later, I would be sitting in the ICU staring at my son with a wired shut chest and tubes running everywhere wondering if he was going to make it or not.

No one could have prepared me for that moment. My mind swirled with questions: Would he live to pass his first birthday? Where was the miracle we so desperately prayed for? Why would You, the God of the universe, not reach down and just stop the hurting? How could I possibly walk through the next few months or even years?

It all seems so overwhelming.

My faith was tired. And maybe your faith is tired too.
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Tired of praying? Tired of fighting? Tired of believing? Feeling unsure of how it will all work out? You’re just plain overwhelmed with it all.

Who knows what’s to come?

Who knows if it will all come together? Who knows if the dream you have believed for years will come about? Who knows if in all the wanting and waiting your heart will ever stop hurting?

I didn’t think mine would. I wasn’t sure how I would recover from the news of the surgeon saying it was the worst heart surgery he had ever performed. He went on to explain that my son, who was only seven months old, had the worst scar tissue he had ever seen. He wasn’t sure what the outcome would be or how long he would live. He tried something new. He

called it a shunt, and he was hoping for the best result.

Hoping? Just hoping?

I felt kinda like the widow in 1 Kings who most likely didn’t like the answer she received either.

“As surely as the Lord your God lives,” she replied, “I don’t have any bread – only a handful of flour in a jar and a little oil in a jug. I am gathering a few sticks to take home and make a meal for myself and my son that we may eat it – and die.” Elijah said to her, “Don’t be afraid. Go home and do as you have said. But first, make a small cake of bread for me from what you have and bring it to me and then make something for yourself and your son. For this is what the Lord, the God of Israel, says: “The jar of flour will not be used up, and the jug of oil will not run dry until the day the Lord gives rain on the land.” 1 Kings 17:12-14 (NIV)

She told Elijah she only had a little bit, but he said to cook what she had and give it to him. He promised it would then supernaturally multiply for not only her current need but for his also. She had a choice to make; place her faith in the words of the prophet of God, or believe the very real evidence of her current situation…her lack.

Maybe, just maybe, I was focusing on the wrong thing. And maybe, just maybe you are too. My attention had been on my lack of faith, but doesn’t it just take faith like a grain of a mustard seed to move a mountain? (Matthew 17:20)

Much like the widow in 1 Kings I had to make a choice. I was either going to believe the negative report of the doctor or was I going to believe the word of the Lord: My son shall live and not die.

When the widow released her “seemingly small bit,” the miracle happened. When we are willing to let go of something that does not seem enough for the moment, a miracle happens.

I chose to release my “seemingly small” faith into the hands of a giant personal God and trust Him with the results.

Letting go of the control and fear and releasing it to God, allows His peace to rule our minds. This release of control is not a one-time thing, it is a daily surrender and sometimes minute by minute surrender. Over and over again replacing the lies with God’s truth and reminding ourselves, “Let the peace of God rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace” Colossians 3:15. Peace is our inheritance.

Six years later, I find myself in this same place again. My son is undergoing another procedure at the end of the week and my faith feels weary. A shed of fear of the unknown still robs my peace. I’m learning there’s no shame in my lack of faith because He meets us in our weakness. When my thoughts are leading me into shame, instead of allowing them free rein, I imagine the future with God in it. The freedom comes when we believe God is good no matter the outcome. It comes knowing we never have to imagine a future without His presence. His grace will always be enough to carry us through whatever life may throw our way. No matter what the miracle may look like because sometimes it’s not exactly what we thought. But this one thing I know: He is good!

The journey has been long, and I am continually laying down my questions and choosing to believe God with the results. He is faithful!

Maybe you’re in need of a miracle today, and your faith is tired. Go ahead and choose to let go of your “seemingly small” faith that does not seem to be enough, and watch as God works a miracle.

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“Finding Jesus in the Little Things”

“Finding Jesus in the Little Things”

It’s Tuesday. In July. Once again it’s time for me to share a friends’ writing.
Welcome to my Summer Blog Swap. Over the next few weeks, I am sharing posts from four of my writing friends. Sharing pieces of their hearts and perspectives. Blessed to be a part of this, and introducing some of my favorite writers to you. This week I want to introduce to you Tara Dickson. Tara is another of my friends from Hope*Writers. As a widow, some of her writing focuses on grief and the Hope that there is as you walk through that journey. Blessed by her encouraging words here about seeking and finding Jesus in the nooks and crannies of life.

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Photo by Marta Pawlik on Unsplash

We were walking along the harbor in Beaufort, South Carolina. Well, I was walking, Ava was dancing. The sun was just beginning to set, casting a glow of golden light shimmering across the waters.
I found myself sharing with Ava,”It’s beautiful! Look at the beautiful water God gave us, Ava!”
Yesterday, it was a spontaneous walk to the park near our house. Jake is home on a 10 day leave from the Marines and he just wanted to do all the little things. So, we walked Ava to the park lingering on our way back, by the creek. We have been here a year and half now and have never seen a crawdad at this creek but today one scuttled across the ground near our feet and we stopped and lifted it gently for Ava to see. Talking about all the things one must know about crawdads.

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Photo by Laurie Waters Photography on Unsplash

The walks, the talks, the soaking it all in. It took me back to the years my children were little, when the days were long, their energy was abundant and we saw the Lord in every twig, every bird song and every bright star above our heads.
When your children are small it’s more natural to share your knowledge with them. We understand that everything is new to them and if we want them to know something we must tell them!
I remember feeling the weight of being the one to introduce them to The King of Kings. I wanted them to have eyes that recognized his presence and understand how connected He was to us all. He was not this abstract being far above them in the sky but that He was very near and had created the things around us for our pleasure and His glory.
What I didn’t know was that God was setting us up to find Jesus in the nooks and crannies of life. The conversation once begun would continue and become very natural. We didn’t have to wait for Sunday to find Jesus and discuss him. We found him in the rocks in the driveway, the pinecones that fell from the trees and in our stubborn disobedient hearts.
I remember as a young mom carrying guilt for the seasons of life that we didn’t have regular “family devotions”. I felt frustrated over the times we would read a missionary book together (which they loved) and one child would fight with the other or ask how many more pages were left?
I didn’t see at the time that life was not this puzzle that was meant to be put together perfectly. Instead it was a magnificent painting that God added to each day, sometimes filling in or taking away but adding layer upon layer.

As the kids grew older we continued to talk, the walking turned into driving, to soccer and football and play practice. We saw Jesus in the sky and the people we met. We saw those that had him and those who needed him. We talked about truth and lies. We talked about conviction and repentance and what holiness was. We had long talks about how our weaknesses revealed to our hearts the strength of our Great God and how we needed him.

Life was not perfect nor were we, but in those tween and teen years when the tears were plenty and the arguments could be heated I felt the the Spirit gentle my heart.
“I am the author and perfecter of their faith, not you. Show them me! Show them how YOU need me! When you have no answers, show them who you go to.”
Now, two are in their late teens and the other two are in their early twenties. They have experienced the death of their father, along with many other hardships I don’t have all the answers to.

Still, when life feels overwhelming I feel the Father remind me once again to “Lift Up My Eyes.” To watch them see Jesus in the nooks and crannies. To listen to them talk and talk and talk some more, to me, to each other to the people they do life with.
There is a bent to their hearts. It isn’t always easy and sometimes they have to remind each other but their hearts are bent to Jesus. It wasn’t because I orchestrated the perfect bedtime devotions, (although I think those are great.) It wasn’t even that I drew their attention to all the right things at the right time. It was Jesus in the nooks and crannies, day after day, year after year.

It was because God is the keeper of His Word!
“Commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today.Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up. ” Deut.6:6,7
“Run with endurance the race God has set before us…by keeping our eyes on Jesus, the champion who initiates and perfects our faith.” Heb.12:1,2

“He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.” Phil.1:6

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Photo by Aaron Burden on Unsplash

Trust Him to be the Keeper of His Word beloved and fill the nooks and crannies with Jesus!

“Walking in a Spiritual Desert”-Summer Blog Swap

“Walking in a Spiritual Desert”-Summer Blog Swap

Welcome to my Summer Blog Swap. Over the next few weeks, I am sharing posts from four of my writing friends. Sharing pieces of their hearts and perspectives. Blessed to be a part of this, and introducing some of my favorite writers to you. This week I want to introduce to you Natalie Guy

We met through a group called Hope*Writers. Natalie is always encouraging about life, family and walking with Jesus.
So happy to share her words with you today.

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Photo by Katerina Radvanska on Unsplash

Have you ever gone through a dry season in your walk with the Lord?

You are going through the motions but your prayer and worship don’t feel genuine. That has happened to me at times, and it can be discouraging. You may feel like you are in a desert. You are parched, wind-whipped, frayed around the edges, burned out, and begging for some refreshment. You desire to have those rivers of living waters flow through you.

1 As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, my God.2 My soul thirsts for God, for the living God. When can I go and meet with God_- Ps. 42_1-2
Photo by Gary Bendig on Unsplash

Here are some suggestions for what to do when you are in a spiritual funk.

Listen to worship music.
Play some praise music you love, songs you have worshiped along with before, or try some new tunes.

Be honest with God.
Confess to the Lord what you are feeling. He knows and He understands.

Talk to a trusted friend.
Share your struggle with another Christian friend and ask for prayer.

Remember this is just a season. Don’t be hard on yourself. No season lasts forever, so trust God that He will deliver you.

Listen to a podcast. There are some great faith-based podcasts that will encourage you and your walk with Jesus.

Switch it up.
Try reading different versions of the Bible than you typically read. Pull out some devotionals you haven’t read in a while, buy a new one you’ve heard of, or borrow one from a friend. You may even try listening to the audio Bible.

Spend time in silence.
Sit in God’s presence and listen. Open your hands and your heart to receive His words.

Try coloring in a Scripture coloring book.
This can be a great way to read the Word and bring some life back to your dry bones.

Go on a retreat/day retreat.
Find a place to get away from the hustle and bustle of life and focus on your relationship with God.

Open up your Bible and read passages that have previously brought you comfort.
The Lord is faithful and will woo you back with His kind and familiar words.

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Here are some podcast suggestions:

The Next Right Thing by Emily Freeman

Dear Daughters by Susie Davis

Gospel in Life by Tim Keller

Bethel Podcast by Bethel Church Redding

Here are some Scripture coloring books for adults:

Sweeter Than Honey: a Coloring Book to Nourish your Soul

Promises of Joy

Whatever is Lovely: A Coloring Book for Reflection and Worship

Here are some devotional suggestions:

New Morning Mercies: A Daily Gospel Devotion

Five Minutes with Jesus

The Songs of Jesus: A Year of Daily Devotions in the Psalms

Other blog posts you may enjoy:

Things Your Pastor’s Wives Wish You Knew

Chatting with You about the Hard Times

Chatting with You about the Hard Times Part II

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I hope you found some helpful tips for what to do when you are in a spiritual funk. May the Lord bring you to a place of amazing faith and overflowing joy.

Please feel free to email me for additional podcast, devotional, or Bible suggestions at everydaynatalie@gmail.com. You may also email me if you’d like prayer.