A Once-Reluctant Hoosier

My husband often jokes that when we moved to Indiana 23 years ago, there were two heel marks behind us all the way from Wisconsin. They were mine. I was not eager to leave my home state. I mean…the Packers, cheese, brats, rolling green hills, people who when you say “hey,” say things like “hay is cheaper, grass is free, marry a farmer you get all three.” It was a great place to grow up. Things had been good in Wisconsin when we left. Our church was thriving, I was about to start teaching women’s Bible study, and we had a great bunch of friends. But God was calling us to Indiana, so we went—me a bit reluctantly. OK, a lot reluctantly.

I could never have imagined that 23 years later I would miss Northwest Indiana.

When we first moved there, the town we moved to was pretty dumpy. And the house we moved into was dark (wooded on three sides with dark wood paneling on the inside). There were even mushrooms growing in the shower (for real!). I didn’t know how I could manage to live there. I slipped pretty quickly into depression.

But eventually, the town turned itself around. New businesses sprang up. The dumpiness gave way to beauty. After a few years, we moved into a house that was sunny. I got into gardening and jewelry-making and scrapbooking and won ribbons at the county fair. I made friends. We found a growing church. We made it home.

A couple of weeks ago, we moved to Georgia to the greater Atlanta area—away from all of our family and most of our friends. And it’s been hard. Much harder than I had expected. I knew it would be tough to leave just about everyone we loved. But back in November, I made the decision to leave my job of 18 years at our church and work from home as a writer/editor. And that was fine when I was in a place where I could text a friend and say, “let’s do coffee” if I got stir-crazy. When you move to a place where you don’t know anyone, you just have coffee alone.

I was not dragging my heels this time around. I was determined that this time I would not be depressed and I would try to meet people and plug in and take on this adventure that God has us on (my husband’s job was transferred here). But we are living in temporary housing while we look for a place to live and it’s tough to figure out how to meet people. In all honesty, I’m just lonely.

I miss my Indiana people—all different kinds of people. Broken people in recovery. Storytellers who keep you in stitches with all their amazing stories. Servants who care for others with joy and zeal. Pastors who taught me God’s Word and trash talked with me over March Madness. Fun people who know how to do a proper game night. Coffee people who know how to make a proper mocha. (If you’re ever in Valparaiso, Indiana, stop at Uptown Café and get a mocha. Tell them Cherry sent you). Writers who graciously allowed me the privilege of editing their work. Women who allowed me the privilege of teaching them God’s Word. Counselors who pushed me to get to the root of the issue. Struggling friends I pushed to get to the root of the issue. Gardening people. People who asked for my advice about gardening. People I met only once or twice that I really connected with. Hairdressers. Movie buddies. Neighbors. Coworkers. Encouragers. Small group members. Many people who love Jesus.

Every one of them is precious to me. I met every one of them for a reason. I can only hope that I played some small, hopefully positive, role in their lives. I know they have played a role in this little play of mine. I don’t know how many acts are left in this play, but I know that Act 2 turned out far better than I could have imagined. I will forever be grateful for my Indiana peeps.

Those heel marks weren’t really necessary.

Do you remember what it’s like to move to a new community? What advice do you have for meeting new people?

Easter in the Graveyard

The alarm went off at 5:30 a.m. this morning. On a Sunday. A holiday. Anyone who knows me knows I am NOT a morning person. I don’t normally even think of dragging my body out of bed before 7:00 a.m. But this morning, I got up joyfully as it was time to worship our resurrected Savior.

A year or two ago, my friend Gail told me about a radical Easter sunrise service she attended. They worshiped—at sunrise—in a graveyard. I told my husband about it and he thought it was a terrific idea. This year, due to work and other obligations, we were not spending the holiday with family, so we decided it was a perfect time to do it. And we couldn’t have asked for nicer weather on April 21!

So, a little after 5:30 a.m. (come on, you didn’t really think I leapt out of bed right on the dot, did you?), we threw on some warm clothes (it was still about 35 degrees when we left the house) and we drove a few miles to a little graveyard near our house. There were no houses or buildings nearby, so it was just us and a slew of birds singing to us in the small woods behind the cemetery.

Dave had drawn up the service with parts taken from Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals by Shane Claiborne and Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and the Revised Common Lectionary. We found a good spot where we could spy the sun rising and started with “Christ is risen!” “He is risen indeed!”

The first song we sang was “Come People of the Risen King” by Keith & Kristyn Getty & Stuart Townend. The playlist Dave had spent an hour or two putting together last night didn’t play for some reason, so we improvised. I told him he could probably find the songs on YouTube. It worked! We sang along with the Gettys as the sun came up over the horizon:

“Come people of the risen King

Who delight to bring Him praise

Come all and tune your hearts to sing

To the morning star of grace.”

It was glorious!

A prayer refrain we repeated several times as part of the liturgy was, “Just when I thought I was lost; my dungeon shook, and the chains fell off.” It was a great reminder of the resurrected life that begins when one trusts in Christ as their Savior!

From there, we read Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24, reading alternate lines back and forth. Then it was on to the song “Famous One,” written by Chris Tomlin and Jesse Reeves. The line that struck me while in that place was,

“The morning star is shining through

And every eye is watching You

Revealed by nature and miracles

You are beautiful, You are beautiful.”

Revealed by nature indeed! All around us, birds were chirping, the sun shone brightly as the moon reflected its light, and fresh fallen dew drops sparkled in the sunlight on the grass. It was so easy to see the image of the Lord reflected in His creation.

Then Dave read Acts 10:34-43, the Apostle Peter’s concise gospel presentation to the Gentiles in Caesarea. I couldn’t help but think about how Peter’s obedience to preach to the Gentiles eventually, over centuries, led to me trusting in Christ as my Savior—another resurrection!

Dave had me read the resurrection account of Jesus from John 20:1-18. There are so many things to love about this account. John telling the story and mentioning that he outran Peter to the tomb. Is that a loving ribbing between friends? They saw the strips of linen and what is now known as the Shroud of Turin lying there in the empty tomb, and it says John “saw and believed.” What was it about the position of those things that caused him to believe? Did he remember at that moment that Jesus told them He would rise again?

What I really love is that Mary Magdalene, one of Jesus’ most devoted followers, comes to the tomb and thinks the risen Jesus is the gardener. Did she not recognize him through her tears of grief? She says, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” (John 20:15) What does she think she’s going to do with Jesus’ body by herself? Obviously, in her grief, she was not thinking too clearly!

And then Jesus simply says, “Mary.” Instantly, she recognizes Him and though she tries to cling to Him, He instructs her to go instead to the disciples to tell them the Good News. When she gets to them, she likely shouts joyfully, “I have seen the Lord!” What an incredible moment given their days of crushing heartbreak. Jesus is alive!

We completed our singing with “Fairest Lord Jesus.” It was fun to sing “Fair is the sunshine, Fairer still the moonlight,” as we could see both from our vantage point. We prayed the Lord’s Prayer and inserted our own spontaneous prayers, including one for all those who died at the hands of slaveowners and lynch mobs over the years. (We’ve both just completed “An American Lent,” a Lenten devotional from www.repentanceproject.org, which we wholeheartedly recommend. It’s definitely worth your time. And there will be more on that in a future post.) We finished with a simple benediction that included the words, “May He bring you home rejoicing.”

We did rejoice throughout the day, but as we left, I noticed the grave of three children, born in the late 1800s. The first lived a month, then died. The other two were twins. One lived six days, the other lived two. I thought about the tragedy that family faced. The heartbreak. Did they have any more children? But then the glorious thought occurred to me that even now, those children are with Jesus in glory. I hope they are also reunited with their parents.

So that was how our Easter began in a graveyard. What a fitting place to be to celebrate our Lord’s resurrection! Later that morning, we joined our church in singing, “Glorious Day.”[1]

“You called my name
And I ran out of that grave
Out of the darkness
Into Your glorious day.”

More than 25 years ago, Jesus called me to Himself and I ran out of the grave of sin, despair, and emptiness into His glorious, illuminating presence. I have not regretted a single day with Jesus. Those days have not always been easy, but He has walked alongside me the entire way, healing me, rebuking me, encouraging me, and always loving me. It is my prayer that if you don’t yet know Him, that you would earnestly seek Him and then you too could be released from your “grave.” Then one day, you will spend eternity with the lover of your soul.

How did you spend your Easter?

Copyright ©2019 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

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[1] Songwriters: Jason Ingram, Jonathan Smith, Kristian Stanfill, Sean Curran

My 90-Day Bible Adventure: Part 2

Lessons Learned from Reading the Bible in 90 Days

Here are the three lessons that stood out for me from reading the Bible in 90 days. 

   Sin and its Devastating Effects — When I read the Bible in 90 days, I saw just how awful humans are when left to our own devices. “There is no one righteous, not even one.” (Romans 3:10) One example is the exile. For some reason I never fully understood just how devastating it was to the Israelites. This time, I saw it as a precursor to the final exile—for those who don’t know Jesus—in eternity. God had removed His glory from the people and gave them over to their sin after years and years of mercy and grace, but also warning that disobeying Him would lead to their abandonment forever. It was so sad to read Jeremiah and Lamentations after reading Exodus and Joshua. The Israelites had worked so hard to get their land only to lose it all by abandoning the one true God for empty idols.

   God is Awesome! He is love. He is merciful. He is full of grace and truth. He is so incredibly patient! He is sovereign. He is holy, holy, holy. He is just. He is forgiving. He knows all things. He is powerful. He is strong. He is a refuge in times of trouble. Getting to know Him in His Word has caused me to love Him more than I ever have before.

   I Can Read the Bible Daily—I used to think there was no way I could fit Bible reading into my life (which is not the right way to look at it!). But God is not a leftover. He wants all of me and He wants me first. Doesn’t He deserve that after all that He has done for me? Challenging myself to do this proved that I could. Now a “normal” daily reading is easier because I have made it a daily habit. I can spend more time meditating on it and really absorbing it. Sometimes, you just need to set what seems like an impossible goal to force yourself to step up to the challenge. Rest assured, the Holy Spirit will help you along the way.

Have you ever read the Bible through in its entirety? If not, why not? If so, did you do it over a year or a couple years? What did God teach you through that time?

Copyright ©2019 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

My 90-Day Bible Adventure: Part 1

I recently published my first article in a long time and several people have asked where they could find it. The first part of that article is what you will find below (I'll post the second part next week - hey, that guarantees me three posts in my blogging reboot). It was originally published in Just Between Us Magazine (Spring 2019 issue; www.justbetweenus.org). I've been a volunteer Editorial Assistant for them for almost 20 years now and I would highly recommend you consider subscribing to this fantastic magazine for women in ministry. 

My 90-Day Bible Adventure: Part 1 

I read the Bible in 90 days…and you can too (really!)

   How’s your devotional life? Did you make a resolution to read your Bible in a year? Did you leave it behind in Leviticus or ditch it in Deuteronomy? I have good news for you: you can still keep that resolution this year. Yes, you read that correctly. You can read the Bible—the whole thing—in just 90 days. I know because I’ve done it. And it was one of the best things I’ve ever done to boost my faith.

   Before you dismiss me as some super Christian who spends two hours a day in her Bible, that is not me. In fact, to be honest, I have been a Christian for 25 years, but I am ashamed to say I have never been consistent in my Bible reading. I have read the Bible through before twice—once in four years and once in two. I love studying the Bible, but reading it is not my forte. I think it stems from my dislike of reading anything more than once. I know that the Bible is living and active and new every time I read it, but it still takes great effort for me to read it consistently day in and day out.

   So, when the idea popped into my head to read the entire Bible in 90 days, I thought I had lost my mind. If I couldn’t do it in a year, how in the world was I going to do it in three months? Yet I couldn’t shake the Holy Spirit’s prompting. If I could stick to such a rigorous plan for 90 days, wouldn’t that make Bible reading a lot easier? Spoiler alert: yes!

   How can you possibly do this with a job, kids, and your crazy, busy life? Try the YouVersion Bible in 90 Days Plan created by Ted Cooper. The plan is to read approximately 12-15 chapters a day, which takes about an hour. Most of us can’t do that all in one sitting, but we can read portions throughout the day. For example, I often read a chapter or two in the morning, listened to two or three chapters on my way to work, read a chapter or two on my lunch break, listened to two or three chapters on my way home from work, and then finished it off before bed. Were there nights when I didn’t finish? Yes, but I made myself catch up the next morning or on the weekend.

   Why should you do it?

   It will give you a hunger for the Word. I found when I got to Psalms and Proverbs, I really wanted to stop and meditate on the passage, but I couldn’t do that and reach my 90-day goal. I did pick out a verse or two each day to meditate on, but my objective with reading it so quickly was to grasp more of the overarching themes of the Bible. Not being able to stop and meditate gave me a hunger to come back and read those passages more slowly the next time and incorporate them into my life.

   It will help you in teaching, mentoring, or discipling others. The whole Word of God was still fresh to me as I prepared to teach on a specific passage of Scripture that fall. It helped me plug that piece of Scripture into the greater context of the whole Bible as I taught, mentored, and discipled others.

   It is your only offensive weapon against the devil and his schemes. In Ephesians 6, we see that we have many defensive weapons: the helmet of salvation, breastplate of righteousness, shield of faith, belt of truth, and shoes fitted with the gospel of peace. But we only have one offensive weapon: the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God. It’s pretty hard to wield a weapon you don’t have! When trials come and Satan whispers in your ear, it’s important to know the verses that match your situation.

   It will help you connect the Old and New Testaments better. I was recently studying the birth narrative of Jesus and His name—Immanuel—God with us. The Holy Spirit brought to mind that God’s presence was with God’s people in the tabernacle. He was with us in the physical person of Jesus as a human being. And He is with us now – indwelling His children. I had never before realized that God has been with His people throughout time in every person of the Trinity. What a glorious thought!

   It will enhance your worship of God. Now that the totality of Scripture is more familiar to me, my soul resonates with Scriptural truths and they come to mind more frequently. I can worship Him more fully and completely because I know Him better. And isn’t that the whole point of Scripture?

   What are you waiting for? Jump into the best spring read ever—the Bible! 

P.S. Let me know if you decide to embark on this adventure! You won't regret it! 

Copyright ©2019 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

Heeding God's Call

“I would recommend not putting off writing 
if it’s something you feel called to: 
if you put it off, then the writing can’t do the work 
that it needs to do to you.” 
(Linford Detweiler from the band Over the Rhine)

Photo by Kaitlyn Baker 

I found the above quote in a mass email sent to me in April 2009. At the end of that same email Linford wrote, “Maybe a writer will find [this], God help her.” A writer has found it. And she does indeed need God’s help…to deal with the wave of regret raging like a torrent through her life. That email hit me right between the eyes at the time and yet I still filed the dream away for another three years without touching a keyboard. I did eventually start this blog. It lasted about 6 weeks. A year later, I restarted this blog one more time...for a month. Here I am again—more than five years later (gulp).

To be honest, I can't really give you a good reason for my long absence. Partly, it’s because I have not been following God’s call on my life. I know that we are always called to use the gifts and talents we have been given in order to build up the body of believers. For me, that call, at least in part, involves writing. Yet, nearly every day I find an excuse not to do it. I’ve been cupping my hands over my ears saying, “La-la-la-la-la-la!” and running 180 degrees in the other direction like Jonah. What’s funny is that I thought God wouldn’t notice that I had booked a flight to Tarshish.

The first whisper of this call came to me in 6^th grade when I got my first A+ on a writing assignment in English class. It was a limerick about a toad crossing the road. It didn’t end well for Mr. Toad, but that A+ did something in my soul. Something came alive. Someone heard my voice…and liked it. I was the youngest in my family by ten years, I was bullied regularly, and I didn’t have a lot of friends. I felt invisible. Writing gave me an outlet; an alternate universe I could thrive in. I started writing poems in my room at night. I wrote about clouds and rainbows, a crush on Robert Redford, and kicking the butts of those bullies. I continued to pursue writing through high school and college, taking writing course after writing course, even majoring in English with a writing emphasis—yet I didn’t really do much actual writing.

Why not? The simple answer is fear. Fear shows its fangs in my life mostly through catastrophic thinking. Psychology Today defines this as “ruminating about irrational worst-case outcomes.”[1] Can anyone out there identify with that? It’s easy to write a first draft. I have about 50 blog post drafts sitting in a folder on my computer. Editing is where my perfectionism and tornadic thoughts kill them. Which word is best? Should I really keep this sentence? Does this one get my point across so that you truly understand it the way I meant it? What if I offend someone? (How can I NOT offend someone these days?) How do you perceive me? What if you don’t (gulp) like me? 😯

That’s one side of my catastrophic thinking. The other side goes something like this: if God has given me this gift, then surely He will bless it, right? So, my blog will gain attention. I’ll be so widely read that soon I’ll be laughing on the couch with Savannah Guthrie and Hoda Kotb on Today. Then Jimmy Fallon will call—personally. Publishers will line up at my door begging me to write a book—no three! Soon the blitz of media coverage and the demands to do book signings and speaking engagements will become so overwhelming I can’t breathe and then…. It. Will. End. No one will want me anymore. Someone will take my place as the “it girl” and I’ll be cast aside like an empty pop can.

Sigh. Welcome to my brain. I apologize for not giving you fair warning. But this is how I sometimes think. I have trouble staying in the moment. I am a chronic overthinker and it sometimes paralyzes me. And that’s at least partially why you haven’t heard from me in a while. I’ve let the enemy win this ridiculous battle.

Except that he hasn’t won the war. I’m not dead yet! It’s time for me to start fighting back. My heart is full of words that must be shared, even if it’s just among friends. I want to “mind my matters” with you because I believe we all process the world we live in far better if we do it out loud in the company of friends. So, this post is the start of “writing” that wrong. (My love of word play hasn’t gone anywhere!) I am recommitting myself to you and to this blog.

So here I am. If you’re new, it’s nice to meet you. If we’re old friends, bring it in for a (((hug))). Let’s process this crazy world together, shall we?

But before I sign off, this isn't just about what God is calling me to. What is God calling you to? What’s that nagging feeling you can’t shake? Does he want you to serve the poor? Forgive someone? Mentor a teen? Does He want you to drop something from your schedule so that you can help get your kid through a difficult phase in their life? Is it time to complete your college degree? Start a new business? Read 12 books in a year? Fast for 24 hours? Fix a bad attitude? Let me urge you as one who has ignored God long enough, DO IT TODAY.

You may feel like Indiana Jones in the Last Crusade walking off the edge of a cliff, but rest assured, if you’re in the center of God’s will, there is solid ground beneath you. And if you’re reading this, I just walked right off that ledge—but amazingly, I find myself standing on a more than solid Rock.

See you again soon!

Copyright ©2019 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

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[1] Ron Breazeale, Ph.D., “Catastophic Thinking,” Psychology Today, PsychologyToday.com, accessed 5-2-16

Micromanaging God

Have you ever been micromanaged by someone? I don’t know many people who enjoy it. It’s rather disheartening to be asked to do a job that you are more than capable of doing and then have someone question everything you’re doing, reverse all your decisions, and take away whatever little authority you thought you had in the first place. It certainly does nothing to boost morale.

My mom used to do this to me when I was a kid. One of the chores I had to do was dusting. I would dust the coffee table and the end tables and an hour later I would see her doing it over again. What was the point of having me do it if she was just going to re-do it? I didn't do a bad job of dusting. I just didn't do it perfectly the way she wanted it done.

At its core, micromanaging is an issue of trust. People who micromanage probably had their trust demolished by someone in their past and now they’re getting their control freak on to make sure it never happens again. Meanwhile, they make everyone around them miserable. When someone breaks your trust, it’s very difficult to pick yourself up and open your heart wide again. It becomes easy to distance yourself, ignore criticism, and become a dictator. There’s just one problem with this: all relationships are built on trust. If you stop trusting people, you might as well go live off the grid somewhere because no one will want to be around you.

I've had three friends obliterate my trust. The first one was around 4^th grade. She introduced me to her new best friend and dropped me like I was last year’s cool toy. In high school, one girl “unfriended” me because she thought I was making a move on the guy she liked. (Is tossing a Frisbee to a guy some kind of mating ritual I’m not aware of?) Another friend approached me with a literal gang of people I had never seen before (while I was on a date!) accusing me of telling her mother that she was doing drugs in the back seat of her car. I didn't know she was doing any such thing, but if I had, I probably would have told her mother! I was blindsided in every case. Yeah, I have trust issues.

For the past two and a half years of my husband’s underemployment, I've been doing a fair amount of yelling at God. I've been telling Him how to do His job. I've questioned His timing (Why does God always seem to act at the very last moment?), His care, and even His love. Why can’t He do things the way I want them done? And then it hit me: I've been micromanaging God. Imagine what it must feel like to know that you are the most capable being in the universe and have someone question your capabilities! God sent His only Son to die on my behalf so that I, a wretch who couldn't be more undeserving, could spend a blissful eternity with Him. And I have the audacity to question Him? Really?

I think it may be time to start focusing on the things God has done for me. He enabled us to eliminate $25,000 worth of debt in four years and stay debt-free for 14. He brought me and my husband together though we grew up 10 years apart and came from very different backgrounds. (Isn't every married couple a mini-miracle?) He provided the down payment for our current house, which saved us about $300/month and is the only way we are staying afloat financially right now. What exactly isn't He doing right? Do I really want God to do things my way? Yeah, my way would be never wanting for anything. I don’t see that working out so well for basically anyone who lives in Hollywood, so what makes me think that would work out any better for me?

This micromanager needs to find a way to trust again. How do you rebuild trust? Baby steps. What if I actually prayed for guidance on how to proceed with a major task today? Or maybe the next time that difficult person comes around I could send up a silent prayer--Lord, help me to see them through your eyes. Perhaps instead of worrying over my husband's job, I could choose instead to simply rest in God's plan and trust that whatever He's working on, it's going to be good. If I took the time to get to know God better and really watched Him at work, I would stop micromanaging because I would recognize His capabilities. The funny thing is that He was capable all along. I just have to take my eyes off myself and put them on the right person to see that.

Copyright ©2013 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

Prairie Salad

I am looking out over the prairie at Taltree Gardens & Arboretum on a perfect 80 degree day. It reminds me of the meadow that was next door to our house when I was little. I remember making a bed in the long grass and lying in it so that I could watch the puffy clouds as they strolled by. I wondered at the balancing plates of Queen Anne's lace, giggled as I chased after yellow moths, and stood in silent amazement upon discovering a monarch cocoon on some milkweed. One of my favorite things to do was create prairie "salads" for Mom out of mixed greens, "bacon bits" of yellow dock, and the yellow "eggs" of wild snapdragons. Most of all, when I think of that meadow, I remember joy. Pure, unspoiled joy.

Queen Anne's Lace

Yellow Dock

Wild Yellow Snapdragon

As I sit here at Taltree and watch two butterflies dance and see a hummingbird alight on a tree and spy a hawk soaring overhead, I catch a wisp of that joy and I want to seize it, bottle it, and take it with me so that I can fight off the sadness and bitterness of the world.

Is that kind of joy still possible as an adult? Is joy allowed? Can we still find pure, unadulterated joy when there are work deadlines looming and dinner needs to be on the table and chores never end?

I am learning that a lot of what keeps me from joy is my perfectionism. Why can't I shake it? Why can't I give up the control? I do a terrible job of running my own life—why can't I put my life in the hands of...oh, I don't know...the One who made the universe? If He can spin planets and hang them in the sky, I'm pretty sure He can handle my mundane life. Why can't I learn to wait? Why do I demand that God always work on my time schedule? Why can’t I just learn to trust, rest, and relax? Little happy Cherry haunts me because I struggle to believe I once was her and I can’t quite figure out how I got here.

So I have a chat with God in the prairie. I pour out my heart. I tell Him how desperately I want to let go of the control. I want to trust Him, but how? I think about how I learn to trust anyone. I spend time with them, watch them work, look at how they treat others, and observe if they keep their promises.

So if I’m going to trust God, I need to spend more time with Him. I’m pretty inconsistent with that, but I can improve. I've seen God do amazing work in my life like provide well-timed housing and $1 cars. And hasn't He turned many things I've called “bad” into good? Why should I expect the current trial to be different? What has God done in my life that I expect bad from Him? God wrote the Golden Rule, so I’m pretty sure He treats others better than anyone I know. And He always keeps His promises. So what’s not to trust?

If I don't grab hold of His grace and mercy and love every day, the world wins. So often, I start the day asking the Lord to show me how to prioritize my day and then I jump in with my Type-A boots on and do my own thing and completely ignore Him. I long to relax and let go; let go of the worry and fear and pride and selfishness and just live for today and enjoy it.

Lord, remind me each day to meditate on your Word and rely on the Holy Spirit for guidance. Show me how to wait for you and trust. Teach me to thank you for every good gift (and they’re all good). Help me realize just how big you are so that I can see just how small I really am. Teach me to abide. To rest. To love. Remind me that I can do NOTHING without you. Grant me more moments of this peace that embraces the soul.

Help me to capture this joy and never let it go.

Copyright ©2013 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

"I Just Want My Life Back"

OK. So apparently, I'm not quite done with my pity party. There have been many times over the past two and a half years since my husband lost his job due to budget cuts, that I have heard myself say, "I just want my life back." When he lost his job, we lost half our income. We lost half of our living space. We lost vacations and discretionary spending. At one point we actually visited a traveling food bank to offset our food expenses for the month. For several months I was terrified that we would end up homeless (chalk that up to catastrophic thinking!). Despite the fact that I was and am a Christian, I just couldn't (more like refused to) see what God was doing. I felt that I had lost all of my coping mechanisms. I sought out counseling to help me regain my sanity. (A great idea, by the way, when life gets rocky. It's helpful to have someone who can pick you back up and set you straight.)

I was consumed with thinking, "I just want my life back."

That thought still overwhelms me from time to time. So I finally asked myself, what do I really mean when I say that? Do I want Dave to go back into ministry? Do I want more living space? Or do I just want our income back? Ouch. There's the knife. I want more money. I want more things. I want more status. Yuck. I seem to recall a verse that says the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil (1 Timothy 6:10); and another verse that says you can't serve God and money (Matthew 6:24). They are mutually exclusive. Did you know that you can love money even when you don't have any?

I recently finished the book 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker. It was excruciatingly challenging. It's a book about fasting from the things that take our focus off of God. Things like media and food and possessions and stress. It made me want to reboot my life and check my attitude.

I hate clutter and disorganization and...stuff. So do I really want more of it? No. I don't really want more square footage - it was too much to clean. I don't really want to eat out more - I gained 10 pounds from eating a bunch of junk. I don't really want more stuff when looking at the stuff I have makes me want to vomit because I know every single piece of stuff I own requires maintenance or thought or organization. I have better things to do with my time!

What I really want is closer relationships - more quality time with God, with my husband, with friends and family. I want to learn how to cook so we can eat out less and Dave can relax more. I want to let go of the things that I allow to steal minutes and hours from my day.

I'm not sure yet what God is going to do in our lives. I don't know if He will give us more income. I don't know when Dave will no longer be underemployed. One thing I am really trying to master is trusting God to work it all out for good. Yes, I realize it is an oxymoron to master trust. Trust by its very nature is rest. It's not a skill to be learned, it's a letting go of control; resting in the ability of someone else to do what needs to be done. That's a tough concept for this recovering perfectionist to comprehend.

When Dave and I were first thinking about moving to Indiana, he was considering two job offers. Ironically, the other job is exactly what he's doing now. What if we had stayed in Wisconsin? Would we be happier? I don't know. I know that there are a bunch of wonderful people I would never have met if we hadn't moved. Beyond that, I'm really not sure of anything. Today, I came across a thought that arrested me. It's from One Thousand Gifts by Ann Voskamp. There's a line in the first chapter that says, "Maybe you don't want to change the story, because you don't know what a different ending holds." Indeed.

I can mull over the decision we made 14 years ago until the end of my time on earth, but I will never know how our lives would be different. I can't change that decision. We don't get do-overs in life. In the words of one of my favorite worship songs, "I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way that He loves us." (How He Loves Us by John Mark McMillan) God loved me so much, He sent His Son to die for me. He loves me unconditionally. He loves me despite my failures. Why am I wasting time thinking about what might have been instead of resting in the arms of my Savior who is far better equipped to orchestrate my life than I am? It's time to stop telling myself that I want my life back and start fully living the life I've been given.

Copyright ©2013 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

Let's Try This Again, Shall We?

Things that matter in life: relationships. When you boil life down to the empty pot, I'm not sure anything else in life matters more.

Sadly, I have failed in my relationship with you.

I haven't blogged since my spiritual birthday last year. Please forgive me. There are a couple reasons for this, though neither of them is really any good. First, I've been throwing myself a pity party and didn't invite you. I wasn't sure you would come. Who wants to come to a pity party? (All the codependents said, "Me! I would have come! I would have made you cookies or cleaned your house or hugged you til your arms fell off! I would have fixed it for you! Why didn't you tell me?)

I've been having a pity party because my life has not exactly met my expectations - which are pretty high. (If you recall, I'm a recovering perfectionist). I'm not a parent. I'm not a world-famous writer. I'm not wealthy. I don't live in my dream house. I haven't traveled the world. High expectations, wouldn't you agree?

So I've been feeling sorry for myself. I play the comparison game and see others pursuing their dreams and going on fun vacations and looking happy and I just want to crawl in a hole and cry. Of course, there is no benefit to this behavior whatsoever. It only makes me more miserable to dwell on my shortcomings and broken dreams. Pity parties are no fun.

The second reason I haven't shown up for my own blog is that I'm afraid of you. Yes, you read that right. You scare me. I worry that you won't like what I have to say. I worry that I won't say what I really need to say because I'm worried about what you will think of it. I worry that I will say something kinda spiritual and then you'll see me doing the exact opposite of that spiritual thing and you will label me a hypocrite. I worry that you'll put me up on some kind of pedestal and admire me or some nonsense like that.

Obviously I live in a fantasy world.

My delusions of grandeur are exceeded only by my self-doubts. I have wanted to be a writer since I was 12, when Mrs. Czechvala gave me an A+ on my limerick about a toad who crossed the road (hey, it rhymed!). At that moment, I thought, maybe there's something here. Come enter a typical Cherry daydream: I will write stunning books of poetry; novels that make you laugh and cry; articles that will inform and transform. I will be the next great screenwriter. I will be...famous! (To get the full effect of that statement, you need to picture me with a flourish of outstretched arms and a silent "ta-da" in the background. And while we're at it, why not add the Oscar orchestra playing me off stage as I thank all the little people for their contributions to my greatness.) This is how my brain works people.

Reality: I got a couple poems published in a university publication, wrote a monthly column for a church newsletter, and published exactly one article and one interview - at least 15 years ago. Oh, and I wrote seven posts for this blog which I selfishly abandoned. That would hardly qualify me as "a writer."

I would like to believe that writing this post will be a breakthrough for me. For a long time, I've been trying to figure out why I haven't been writing. Now that I know that I'm afraid of you, I can choose to see you for you who really are - normal, not-so-scary people who just want their lives to matter too.

I started this blog to work out spiritual truth in my life and discover what really matters. I want to get back on that journey, and again, I would like to invite you to walk that path with me. I don't want to sugar-coat my life. I want it to be raw and real. That is really scary. But I know One who is way bigger than any of my fears.

So I'm back. I hope you're glad about that. If you're not, or if you don't care, I'm okay with that. I'm writing, I'm obeying, and I'm searching. And that matters.

Copyright ©2013 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

Everybody Has a Story

Twenty-one years ago today, my life profoundly and completely changed. I was “born again" – given a new, spiritual life – a life given over to Jesus Christ.

I awoke the morning of June 18, 1991 in a cold sweat, screaming under my breath from a horrible nightmare. Before I tell you the details though, I think you need to know a little of what my life before that morning was like.

I grew up feeling invisible. My parents both worked outside the home and when they were home, we often spent our time together in front of the TV. I had no local playmates until around junior high. I had three older siblings, but my half-sisters were 20 years older and my brother was 10 years older and he was the clearly favored child. I tried to get my parents’ attention by staying out of trouble and getting good grades, but their attention was fleeting, my achievements seemed empty, and I was desperately lonely.

Me in Kindergarten

By the time I became a teenager, I felt a need to “find my destiny.” I nearly died at five months old of some mysterious virus. I thought my survival somehow made me “special.” I longed to figure out what great thing I was supposed to do with my life. The pressure I put on myself to achieve was often overwhelming. Every new school year was a chance to make a fresh start. But two weeks in, I was still the same bossy, selfish, crybaby that I had always been. I was powerless to change myself.

Every week, my parents and I attended a church that gradually became spiritually empty to me. Everything was based on “doing.” So going to church just reinforced my perfectionist tendencies to try harder and be good. I had started seriously searching for God from about junior high on, but I kept running into dead ends and couldn’t really find anyone who could explain their belief in God to me that was any better than my “everybody goes to heaven” philosophy.

Confirmation Day 

By the time I was 20, I was bullied relentlessly, betrayed by three close friends, and broken-hearted from a bad choice of boyfriend. I started investigating New Age philosophy (a belief mostly centered on achieving nirvana through bettering yourself), but worshiping self just left me more confused and isolated. I often prayed to my version of God at night, but I was never really sure He was listening.

Then, between my junior and senior years of college, I met Beth, a ‘90s hippie and not the kind of person I normally hung around with. But one night there was a tornado warning near campus and we got talking about life. She asked me what I believed about God. I told her that I thought God was out there somewhere and I was trying to find a way to get to Him. I said that I thought everyone went to heaven except maybe a few really bad people. The more I talked, the less it made sense, not only to her, but to me! She explained how Jesus’ death on the cross was personal – that He died for me, for my sins, personally. She also explained Satan and hell and quoted Matthew 12:30 – “He who is not with me, is against me.” I knew that the way I was living could not be construed as being “with God,” but I also didn’t like the alternative!

That night, my mind accepted what she was saying, but my heart was not quite there yet. About a week later, I had the nightmare I referred to at the beginning. I dreamt that I was signing a contract with a devil in disguise. As I was signing my name, I saw horrible things – people being torn limb from limb and vile crimes being committed. Then I saw the number 666 being engraved in my hand in blood. I knew that was the mark of the devil. I tried to get away, but the person the contract was with grabbed my arm searing my flesh. The room went black and that’s when I woke up. My first conscious thought was “I need Jesus!” I rifled through my desk to find a pamphlet Beth had given me that explained that finding peace with God was as simple as believing that the God who made me had sent His only Son, Jesus to die on a cross to pay the penalty for my sins. I simply needed to confess those sins and trust Him to take over my life. I prayed several times, begging God to forgive me.

My Baptism - October 20, 1991

That was an amazing day. I know it sounds cliché, but when I looked out my window that morning, everything seemed suddenly brighter and more in focus to me. It really was like God had peeled scales from my eyes and that I was seeing clearly for the first time. That was the great turning point of my life.

Why am I telling you all of this? It’s my story – at least one significant portion of it. Everybody has a story. You don’t have to be a Christian to have a story. Maybe you were abused as a child or survived a long illness. Perhaps you married young, or late, or multiple times, or not at all. Have you lost a loved one? Adopted a child? Achieved some fleeting greatness?

What’s your story? Have you shared it with anyone? I think one of the great faults of our American society is that we often hide our stories. We walk around making judgments of people we know nothing about. We assume the homeless man was lazy or the CEO came from a wealthy family or the young African-American male is violent. Yet, we don’t know a thing about them. We don’t know that the guy who cut us off in traffic this morning was driving his wife to the hospital so she could deliver their first child. We don’t know that the cashier was crabby this afternoon because she was up with a sick child all night. We just make snap judgments about people and cop an attitude. I’m guilty of that.

Sharing our stories would have a profound effect on our culture. We would be less isolated and judgmental; we would be more open and far more willing to show grace to others if we knew their “stuff”. The more I interact with people, the more I see how much we desperately need to know each other’s stories. They encourage us, correct us, motivate us, counsel us, and inspire us.

So, what’s your story? Who will you share at least a piece of it with today?

Copyright ©2012 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without written permission from the author. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

Tilling the Soul

I apologize for not blogging for a few weeks, but I must confess something. I’m…a gardener. It’s actually worse than that…technically, I’m a Master Gardener (that's really just a fancy way of saying I took several weeks of classes on gardening and did some volunteer work). When spring arrives, I am outside planting, pruning, or weeding. And this year I have a new yard to play with!

My current project is planting my first-ever vegetable garden. As an adult, I’ve never had a yard that enabled me to plant vegetables before, so I’m pretty excited about this; so excited that I bought twice the number of seeds that I needed! I’m experimenting with a pallet garden since it takes a near miracle to grow anything in Indiana clay.

All of this planting has gotten me thinking about how many parallels gardening has to life. Did you know that Jesus used a few gardening illustrations in several of His teachings? In Mark 4, He compared the Kingdom of God to a mustard seed telling the disciples that the smallest of all seeds grows into the largest of all garden plants. He cursed a fig tree for not bearing fruit in Matthew 21. In John 15, He explains that the key to bearing fruit is staying connected to the vine (Jesus). So, what has gardening taught me about life so far?

Renewal = Hope

I think there are few things in the natural world more exciting than that first sprout of green pushing its way through the soil in the dawn of spring. It’s a sign that things are coming alive, being renewed, and becoming what they were meant to be. This is the essence of the Christian life! The morning I met Jesus, I remember looking out the window and feeling like the trees looked greener, the sky was bluer and the people walking down the sidewalk looked more animated than ever before. It was like turning on the windshield wipers of my soul. Everything was new and fresh. After the cold gray of winter, spring is my yearly reminder that as a Christian I have an eternal hope. Regular renewal of my spiritual life keeps that hope fresh.

Weeds Must be Killed

I hate weeds. I hate them because they are so prolific and it doesn’t matter how much mulch and weed preventer and hand-pulling I do; they find their way into my garden. It’s just like sin in my life. It’s always lurking just below the surface. A harsh word chokes my reputation as a believer; an ulterior motive destroys my good deeds; idleness steals my time with the Lord. Sin chokes out our spiritual life. This is why it is vital for me to kill the weeds of sin in my life while they are small. I know too many people who let the little sins grow into big ones and it destroyed their lives. I am starting to figure out that a little Bible reading and prayer tills my soul just like a gentle rain shower – and it makes the sin (and the weeds) a little bit easier to remove.

Growth Takes Time

When you plant something, you just can’t wait for it to reach its fullness. You want to see big, perfect flowers the second the plant is in the ground. You want the tree to shade the patio or the bush to fill in that space in front of the central air unit. You want vegetables to keep the grocery bill low. But things don’t grow in the real world the way they do in Farmville. The same is true of spiritual maturity. I want to be the mentor or the evangelist or the seasoned counselor now. I want to “arrive.” The good news and the bad news here are the same: we’re never going to “arrive” on this side of heaven. That can be a blessing because it takes the pressure off. God gives me grace! And it's far more than I deserve. I must learn to accept His grace – and then give it to others, too!

Those are just a few things I have learned from gardening. Do you garden? If not, I'm giving you an assignment: plant something. I don't care what you plant but put it somewhere you will see it every day. As you watch it grow throughout the season, think about your spiritual life, where you are on your journey, and where you would like to be. Then quench your thirst, fertilize your soul, and watch your life blossom into the person God made you to be.

How does your garden – and your soul – grow?

Copyright ©2012 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without written permission from the author. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

The Dance

I recently finished an excellent 26 week class on the spiritual disciplines. We used Spiritual Disciplines for the Christian Life by Donald Whitney as our textbook, which I would highly recommend. We learned about Bible intake, Scripture memory, prayer, journaling, fasting, worship, serving, stewardship, silence & solitude, evangelism, discipleship, learning and perseverance. In most cases, we spent at least one week learning about the discipline and then another week practicing it. I would say that for the most part, I stepped out of my comfort zone, did my homework and learned a lot.

However, if I’m being completely honest with myself, my practice of the spiritual disciplines has not really improved all that much and I’ve been wrestling with why that is. My answer may shock you. Are you ready? I don’t love God enough. Yes, you read that right. It’s true. If I really loved Him, I would want to spend time with Him. I would long to spend time with Him. Instead, I am unfaithful. I spend plenty of time watching TV and playing on Facebook and reading books, but I am not spending time with my God. And I wonder why I’m struggling with practicing the spiritual disciplines? I have the knowledge. I know what the spiritual disciplines are and how to practice them. I just don’t do it.

Ironically, the one thing I need in order to cultivate a greater love for God is…to practice the spiritual disciplines! It is through Bible intake that I get to know my God better. It is through prayer that I communicate with Him. It’s through worship that I learn to take my focus off myself and put it on God where it belongs. The disciplines are a little like dating. The more I spend time on them, the more I fall in love with my Savior. And the more I love my Savior, the more I want to practice the spiritual disciplines!

It’s a dance. When you dance with a partner, you generally dance in a circle and one step leads into another. I take God’s hand and He leads me into a gentle waltz or maybe a lively two-step. Sometimes, it’s a tempestuous tango. I dance, but fight Him all the way. I fight Him because I’m too lazy or too distracted by other partners. Sometimes I just dance alone. I even think I look fantastic doing it…only to realize that while I’m showing off, Jesus is quietly standing there in the middle of the floor patiently waiting for me to come back to Him.

So, what should I do? I can continue showing off only to find myself exhausted; I can choose to sit at the table, stubbornly refusing to dance (which will probably only prove that I was never the right partner for Jesus in the first place); I can choose to dance a tango and fight him all the way (gee, that sounds like fun); or I can take His offered hand and let Him lead and see where He takes me. Hmm…it’s not that hard to see which one of those is the best choice, is it?

It comes down to this: when my desire to grow in Christ becomes greater than my desire to be entertained, I will grow in my walk with Him and our dance will be beautiful and freeing. Until then, I may be entertained, but I will also find myself exhausted, empty, weighed down and alone when the music ends. Freedom sounds a whole lot better than that.

Do you hear the Savior calling, “May I have this dance?”

Copyright ©2012 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

It’s All About the Timing

After a month of blogging, I have learned that it requires at least two things: good ideas and timing. For the last two weeks, my timing has been really off, which is why I have not posted. I had several great ideas for Easter related posts, but in most cases, I didn't finish writing them in time. It doesn't make much sense to post something about Good Friday on Easter Sunday. I see now why another blogger suggested having several blog posts already written before I started blogging to keep a flow going. She was really talking about timing. Fail.

Timing is a funny thing. Sometimes it’s great and leads to a chance meeting. I think back to how Dave (my husband) and I met at Timber-lee Camp in East Troy, Wisconsin. So many things went into the timing of that: when I became a Christian; not getting a graduate assistantship and needing to take a summer job; staying on at the camp in the fall and working with Dave on the weekends. Had any one of those things changed, we might not be married. Of course, I could also count the fact that I didn’t die from some mysterious virus when I was five months old, or that I wasn’t seriously injured or killed when I almost fell off a roof while volunteering with Habitat for Humanity in high school.

I may not have become interested in writing if Mrs. Czechvala hadn’t given me an A+ in 6^th grade on a limerick I wrote about a frog crossing the street.

I may not have become the owner of a very affectionate orange cat if my friend Leslie’s cats had been nice to her in the brief time she owned her.

I may not have become a Christian yet if I had gotten the prestigious job I wanted on campus between my junior and senior years of college. Instead, I got a job that actually paid more and I worked with a lot of Christians – and one of them led me to the Lord.

Of course, timing has a dark side too. Why did my grandmother have a stroke when I was 16? Why did my husband lose his job and remain unemployed for several months a little over a year ago? If my sister-in-law hadn’t been a lifeguard at one time, would she still have gotten the melanoma that killed her?

Timing is what makes things funny or sad at a particular moment – comedians and dramatic actors know that well. Sometimes we affect timing and sometimes others or circumstances affect timing. In the end, it all seems to work out, though, doesn’t it? I believe that’s because God is sovereign, meaning that He is in control of all things. Nothing happens without a reason. I can look back on many events in my life and see now why they happened the way they did. Some I’m grateful for; some, not so much. But it’s a comfort to me to know that things don’t randomly happen. So I guess, if I look at it that way, I’m always right on time.

How is your timing? How have different events in your life shaped you? Have some of the bad things turned out to have a good purpose at some point?

Copyright ©2012 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

Be Quiet

Silence.

What emotion do you feel when you are surrounded by silence? Relief? Peace? Fear? Are you ever actually surrounded by silence in your life?

I have spent the past three Sunday afternoons in silence at a local arboretum. The weather has been fantastic in the Midwest, so part of me just wanted to get outside and enjoy the unusual warmth. I also love God’s creation and seeing little bits of Him in His handiwork. Creation is like us looking at a painting and seeing a little bit of the artist in it. We learn things about the painter from observing his work. When I spend time in God’s creation, I get to know Him a little better. I see His orderliness, His sense of humor and His flair for the dramatic. Have you ever stopped to look at the intricacy of a tree leaf or the amazing colors displayed in a sunset? Really look?

The main reason I decided to spend time in silence these past weeks was to connect with God better. I don’t often take enough time to listen to God throughout the week. I usually do all the talking. (Does this surprise anyone?) Sometimes, I just need to be quiet and listen.

Silence, though, can be intimidating. In fact, in America, I believe that tuning out silence is an epidemic. For many, our fear of silence is why we always have the television on or why the radio goes on the moment we start the ignition in our cars or why we sleep with a fan. Perhaps it’s not really the silence we’re afraid of as much as it’s ourselves that we’re avoiding. We are comfortable in our shallowness. We don’t want to go deeper because deeper means being vulnerable and open and we don’t want to get hurt.

There are lots of things that God talks to me about in the silence that I don’t want to hear. Sometimes He gently rebukes me about some sin in my life or urges me – again – to do something that I’ve been neglecting. However, there are other times when He whispers a kind word of encouragement or just tells me how much He loves me. If I’m not taking the time to get quiet and listen to Him, I can’t change the stuff He wants me to change, but I also can’t hear His heart of love. I am slowly learning not to resist silence.

What would you encounter if you decided to be quiet? Would God remind you of someone you need to forgive or someone you hurt? Maybe the silence would allow you time to work out your doubts or ponder your next step after your dreams have been dashed. Maybe He wants to encourage you or show you something wondrous in His creation. Maybe He just wants to say, “I love you.”

Whatever God has for you, don’t avoid the silence. Embrace it. Make time for it. Incorporate it into your life as a regular practice. Psalm 62:5 says, “Find rest, O my soul, in God alone, my hope comes from him.”[1] Our hope comes from God; shouldn’t we take some time to at least thank Him for that? Find a place where you can rest and open your heart to what God has to say to you. You will be blessed.

If you took an hour to be silent with God today, what do you think He would say to you? Why not take a walk and find out?


Copyright ©2012 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.

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[1] New International Version 1984 (NIV1984) Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984 by Biblica

One More Day with Jesus

On March 2 this year, I reached a milestone. As of that day, I have walked one more day with Jesus than without Him. I have lived as a Christian longer than I lived as an unbeliever. Why is that so significant to me? Here are a few reasons:

Grateful for Perseverance

There's a song by Hillsongs Australia (1992) entitled, "Jesus, Lover of My Soul" that has this line, "Jesus, lover of my soul/Jesus, I will never let you go." I get a little twinge when I sing that line. Can I really sing that with integrity? Will I really hold on to the end? Will there be a time in my walk where I think there's a better alternative? I don't know. But I do believe in the "perseverance of the saints," meaning that those who truly belong to the Lord will persevere to the end. So if I am truly His, I have nothing to fear.

In any case, I have somehow managed to stick with Jesus for more than 20 years now - despite losing friends who didn't understand my choice to follow Him; despite the woman who led me to Christ subsequently turning away from the faith because of Christians who treated her unkindly; despite messing up relationships with family members who were right to question my early legalistic brand of Christianity; despite hospital visits and financial trials and nagging doubts and my husband's unemployment and the pain of watching our sister-in-law lose her battle with melanoma.

Why did I stick it out? Even though I was a "Little Miss Goody Two Shoes" before I met Jesus, my life still felt empty and dark and unstable without Him. I longed for life to make sense. When I met Jesus, it did. It didn't mean the pain went away or life got easier, but it meant having someone by my side to guide me and love me unconditionally and talk to when I needed a friend. I think the bottom line is that whenever I thought about giving up on Jesus, I couldn't think of a single thing I would gain from doing it...and a whole lot that I would lose.

Longing for the New Earth

One more day with Jesus also means I'm one day closer to living in the New Earth. Eternity can seem pretty scary regardless of your destination when you think that it's FOREVER. That's a very long time. When I first became a believer I remember being really freaked out about heaven. I wasn't sure that I wanted to be anywhere FOREVER. But over the years, I've heard more teaching on the New Earth and how we get to live in a totally restored and renewed earth. Now that's something I can get excited about! 

There's so much of the world I haven't seen, and likely won't see before I die, but when it's restored, I can see it all and take all eternity to do it! And I get to do it with Jesus and Christians from all over the world - some that I have never even met! Who wants to see the Grand Canyon? Hawaii? Europe? 

In that day, the Son will be our sun. His glory will light the whole earth. Jesus Himself will prepare a special place for each of us.  Personally, I'm hoping mine includes a gorgeous garden full of flowers bursting in bloom and a quiet babbling brook leading to a lazily lapping lake. And I wouldn't mind some mountains and a peaceful forest in the background. I can't wait!

An Opportunity to Grow

One more day with Jesus also means I have another opportunity to grow and mature and live the way He wants me to live. I love Ephesians 5:15-16 (NIV), "Be very careful, then, how you live - not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity because the days are evil." What a grace each new day is! Every day, I have one more opportunity to sit at the Lord's feet and listen. I have one more day to love Him better; one more day to serve; one more day to pray; one more day to worship; one more day to learn and grow. Today is a day that I can choose to move forward with Jesus.

If you are walking with Jesus, what are some of the reasons you are glad to have one more day with your Savior?


Copyright ©2012 by Cherry Lyn Hoffner. You may not reproduce this post in any form without permission. However, linking to this post is encouraged.