bible

DON’T BE LIKE THEM

/ jessicaivaska / 4 Comments

Photo by Bob Jenkin on Unsplash

This might sound dramatic, but I think it’s true. 

The world started falling apart the moment someone said, “I want to be like them.”

Hear me out. 

The problem of sin and brokenness starts — and continues — with God’s people to wanting to be something (or someone) other than what they are. 

It starts in the garden, with the serpent tempting Eve with the promise of being someone else. 

“You can be like God. You can know everything. Don’t settle for being reliant on him.” (Genesis 3:5) 

And Eve falls for it. So do I. I’m guessing there are times you’ve fallen for it, too. 

Another place where we see this problem (it’s all throughout scripture) is in Genesis 16. 

God has promised Abram that He will make him into a great nation. Sarai, Abram’s wife, doesn’t seem to be able to have children. She’s not happy with the situation she’s in — with the place God has her — so she comes up with a plan that will make her the mother she wants to be. She tells Abram to sleep with her maid servant, Hagar. He does and Hagar has a baby, Ishmael. 

Sarai gets even more jealous and things start to go south quick. And they keep going. By the time we get to 1 Samuel, people aren’t even disguising the fact that they don’t want to be who they were created to be. 

“Give us a king,” the Israelites, God’s chosen people, say. “We want to be like all the other nations.” (1 Samuel 8:19-20)

As I read that passage, something clicked deep inside me, and I had to stop and sit with the feeling for a moment. 

How many times have I wanted to be like “them”? To be someone other than I was created to be? To be in a place other than the one God had placed me at that specific time?

Way more than I can even begin to count. 

But what if, instead of looking for ways to fit in, I let God allow me to stand out in whatever ways He wants? 

Living that way is counter-cultural, especially in our media and marketing-driven society. 

Many of the messages that bombard us every day are crafted to tell us that not only can we be someone else, but we should be. And if we don’t want to, there’s something wrong with us. 

Don’t get me wrong. Dreams and aspirations aren’t bad, but where those dreams and aspirations come from matters. 

Often, the root is that we want to live a life other than the one we have. 

We want to look different than how God hand-crafted us. 

We want to be someone other than who we were created to be. 

And that’s the real tragedy, because what if you already are who you were meant to be? 

I believe with every part of me that God has a unique call for your life. You reflect Him in a way no one else can. Are you leaning into that? 

God isn’t cruel. In fact, He often gives us what we want. But what if, instead of wanting to be like someone else — or everyone else — you wanted to be more fully you? The unique, beautiful one-of-a-kind you that you were created to be?

What if we all did? 

IT STILL HURTS

/ jessicaivaska / 6 Comments

Erik and I have a very sweet 12-year-old in our lives who we love. This year she got braces. Now I never had braces, by my older sister did, so I know a little about them — and living with people who have them.
 
There are restrictions on what you can eat.
You have to floss your teeth with a special tool.
And every few weeks the braces are tightened or a thicker wire is put in.
 
There’s pain in the process. How could there not be? The braces are designed to reform your entire mouth. It’s done slowly, I assume in part of minimize pain, but still, the pain is there, and after the last appointment, the sweet 12-year-old was not happy.
 
Ice cream wouldn’t help.
Shopping couldn’t take the ache away.
She had to just sit with it.
 
In the midst of her pain, her dad texted Erik and I and told us she wasn’t feeling well and was quite uncomfortable. So we did the only thing we could think to do. We prayed.
 
Afterward, we texted her dad back to tell him we’d prayed for her, and he passed the message on to her. About two minutes later, both Erik’s and my phones buzzed.
 
“I told her you prayed for her,” her dad wrote. “She said, ‘Well, I don’t feel any better!”
 
We burst out laughing. The text message emojis flying back and forth on the group chat.
 
But as I laughed, I also felt a little jealous. Not of her pain, but of her ability to say how she truly felt, without pretense, and presumably without fear of what we thought of her response.
 
I think God wants the same kind of relationship with us. He wants us to feel loved enough and safe enough to tell him how we feel. How we really feel. Without lofty words, without unnecessary fluff. After all, in Matthew 6:7-8, Jesus tells us as much.
 
“And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” (NIV)
 
God knows what I need.
He knows what you need.
He knows what that sweet little 12-year-old needs.
 
He doesn’t need us to come to Him with eloquent essays or a list of arguments as to why He should answer our prayer. Instead, He wants us to just come to Him and tell him how we feel. And that means at times, “But Lord, it still hurts!” is the truest and most beautiful prayer I — or you — could ever pray.

PLAY TO WIN

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Erik has been watching the World Cup. We aren’t typically sports people so having the TV turned to a match several days in a row feels weird. Almost like someone else has taken over our living room. But no, it’s Erik, the man who has been by my side for almost 19 years now. I’m just seeing a different side of him. A side that has been hidden from me. 

“I don’t remember you being this into the World Cup before,” I cautiously said to him last week. I was worried that I had somehow blanked out on large swaths of our life – that I hadn’t been fully paying attention. 

“This is the first time that the timing lines up for me to watch it,” he said. “I’ve always liked it.”

He then went through the years the World Cup has been held since we met and explained that every other time it has been held, he’d been crazy busy with work and school and life demands, or it had been held in cities where the time zones just didn’t match up to where we were living. 

Ok, that explains it. 

As much as he’s into it, I still don’t have a lot of interest, so on Monday, I took my book outside while Erik turned on the US vs. Belgium match.

I was happily reading in the evening sun, when I got a text from him about the how Team USA was playing. 

“They’re not hungry to win, they’re afraid to lose,” he’s messaged. 

As I stared down at my phone, the words stopped being about a soccer team and got personal. Maybe a little too personal. 

“I think I probably fall into the afraid to lose camp most of the time,” I texted him back.

“That might be worth exploring,” he wrote back. 

Well, when God gives you a glimpse of your heart like that, you can either ignore it or follow it. I decided to follow it, and at the end of the road was a truth that’s as ugly to face as Team USA’s inevitable loss. 

Here it is: I let fear dictate more of my life than faith. 

Ouch. 

It’s not that I never take risks. I do, but I tend to take “safe” risks. Ones that are calculated. I usually have a backup plan…or three. 

But that’s not living in faith, is it? That’s not living in the fullness of believing that God really has me, no matter what. 

Maybe you haven’t, either. 

If you have a relationship with Jesus, your salvation isn’t at stake here. That’s secure. But I think your enjoyment of life is. 

At least that’s what I see in my own life. I’ve tended to hold back on some of the things I really want to do because I’m afraid I’ll fall flat on my face. I’m afraid I’ll lose. 

The Bible tells us the game has already been decided. God wins, and when we’re on His side, we win, too. Nothing can change that. So why am I living not to lose, if I’m guaranteed to win? 

Can I be brave enough to change? 

Can I be brave enough to step out in faith? 

Can you? 

SUMMER IS COMING

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Monday the rain was back. Yes, it’s only May. Yes, summer isn’t officially here yet, but we all know I’m impatient and my impatience has grown over the last several weeks. Why? Teaser days. 

You know what I’m talking about, right?

Those days in spring when the sky is bright blue, the sun is out, and it stretches into the upper 70s. Those are the teaser days and we’ve had a few of them in this last month. But today, as I zipped up a winter coat to brave the 40-something morning air for a walk, I had to face the facts. No matter how much I want it to be, It’s just not quite time for my Birkenstock sandals yet. I wore them this weekend, and it was wonderful. My toes happily stretched, feeling the fresh air and sunbeams as I walked though a patch of grass.  

At the time, I was grateful for the summer-like weather. I still am. But I’ll also admit, at the time, all I wanted was more. 

I wanted the days of 70+ weather to arrive and settle in. 

I wanted to pack away my sweaters, vests, and coats. 

I wanted to be done with winter. 

But yesterday, as drizzle continued to fall and I was forced to zip up before stepping outside, God whispered to me. 

“Those days were just a taste, Jess. It’s coming. But it’s not here yet.” 

That’s when I realized that in many ways, every day of this life is a taste of what’s to come. 

A taste of heaven. 

Of eternity. 

Of the goodness and beauty of God.

Of things yet to come.

Is it a perfect analogy? No, but God still used it to remind me that when I feel trapped in the slog of winter, summer – His summer, the summer He bled and died for – is coming. 

He sends us glimpses of it. Tastes of it. Teaser days, if you will, to give us glimpses of the day when things will be reconciled and fully redeemed in Christ. 

We’re not there yet. But He promises it’s coming. And those sunbeams breaking through the clouds remind me of that. 

May they remind you, too. 

WHAT WOULD IT TAKE?

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My husband, Erik, and I like to walk together. We don’t go every day, but  more often than not we lace up our shoes and find some ground to cover. 

Sometimes we’ll drive for a “destination” walk. We’ll go to the waterfront in one of the nearby towns or pick a park to hike in. Most days, though, we walk in our neighborhood. It’s a rural area so there are no city sidewalks, and our three-mile route even takes us down a few woodsy trails. If we time it to avoid drop-off and pick-up at the nearby elementary school, we usually don’t see too much traffic. 

However, there is one main road we have to cross. Erik had my hand as we came to the road. As is often the case, I was lazily looking at the plants around, starting at trees and keeping an eye out for bunnies and squirrels.  A car whizzed by us and then Erik gently tugged me out into the street. 

I didn’t even flinch. 

Didn’t stop to look both ways myself.

I simply trusted him. 

The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much I trust him. I know he loves me. I know he won’t lead me into danger. In fact, he points out dog poop just to make sure I don’t step in it. He is always keeping an eye out for me, protecting me. 

I’m so used to it that letting him guide me has become natural. So natural that in situations like crossing a street, I don’t second guess him. But today, as we kept walking our route, I heard God whisper a question straight to my soul.

Can you guess what it was?

“What would it take for you to trust me like that?”

Ouch. 

I’ve had a relationship with God longer than I’ve known Erik and yet I often second-guess His leading. 

“Really, Lord?”

“Are you sure?”

“What if it’s dangerous?”

“What if it’s too hard?”

“What if I get hurt – physically or emotionally?”

I could write a book full of excuses, but when it comes down to it, the truth is, I struggle to trust God’s guidance. 

Maybe it’s because I let fear and anxiety control too much of my life. 

Maybe it’s because I don’t spend enough time in His Word. 

Maybe it’s because I can’t see God or hold His hand like I can Erik’s. 

Maybe it’s all those things – and more.

I’m not sure the “why” actually matters as much as the question itself. 

What would it take for me to trust God implicitly? 

What would it take for you to?