Failure is Not An Option

I Thessalonians 2:1 " You know brothers that our visit to you was not a failure."

Man I needed this scripture recently, and as always, God's timing is impeccable. I started a study with a ladies' group at church over I & II Thessalonians and the second week we covered this scripture.  Paul, Timothy, and Silas had just tried to visit Thessalonica but they were quickly run out the town after visiting Philippi and being stripped, beaten and thrown in prison there. They barely had a chance to even say "hello," but Paul is assuring his friends that the visit was not a failure. You see, they planted seeds, (and a church) they were obedient to the call of the Lord and they did the work to spread the gospel. I am sure things did not go as Paul, Timothy and Silas had anticipated; I am sure they felt a tinge of disappointment. I don't know if you know that much about Paul in the New Testament, but he is a pretty dynamic character in the history of the New Testament church and spread of the gospel. Even so, I am sure being beaten and thrown in jail was not really his idea of a successful missionary journey to a town of people he really cared about. Luckily for me, God allowed him to understand, and to assure others, that actually "failure" really wasn't an option as a descriptor as long as God was in control.

True confession: I have a touch of what people call perfectionism. Okay, maybe it is more like a serious problem. The weird thing is that it is only self-directed. I don't expect others to be perfect, and am probably one of the most tolerant of others' mistakes and shortfalls, but when it comes to my own, I am ruthless. A lot of that personal perfectionism is related to my many deeply rooted insecurities or maybe the two just feed off of one another. I am determined to be good enough and right and yet am terrified that I am correct when I think I am not; such a weird internal conundrum.

 My perfectionism is magnified when I have something specific to accomplish or there is a measurable end product. For instance, when I went back to school to earn my teaching degree it became a screaming billboard for everyone around me to see. I had to get all A's; anything less was unimaginable.

 I went back after working as a teacher's aide for 10-12 years, knowing I wanted to teach. I quit working and in four semesters of college completed 84 semester hours to graduate as quickly as possible. Yes, I took 19-24 semester hours each semester, even begging the dean at one point to allow the 24 hours that semester. That my friends, is perfectionistic encephalitis or "crazy" for short.

 I worked my tail off while taking all those classes. I even remember Amanda asking one day, " Momma, do you have homework every day?" What is silly is that the degree wasn't nearly as important as all those individual course marks. And to this day, one course, Mexican American History, is my biggest frustration. 

The class I really enjoyed. My professor was a crop pants, flip-flop wearing self-proclaimed hippie who was very laid-back (duh) and very knowledgeable. He basically just talked the entire time and showed us pictures of his travels and why he loved Mexican history so much. Lucky for me, I have a pretty remarkable memory and take good notes, (although they are usually scattered all over a page.)

 I was crammed into a class of mostly history majors and mostly 15 years younger than me. The best part about this class ( and I understand this will elicit audible groans from some of you) was that his tests were 100% essay. I don't know if you've figured this out yet, but I'm pretty adept at what I have always affectionately called "fluffing" in writing. That ability added to my memory allowed me to always do well on essay tests. I needed this one last history class for my degree plan and was glad it would be one I felt I could comfortably gain an A in.

The first test day rolls around and I purchase the little blue book (a composition book we had to have for every test). Prior to test day, the professor would give us six possible essay topics and on test day he would only give us two of the six to choose from; we were to write about only one of them. I looked over the two topics, selected the one I felt most comfortable about and began writing. I listed what I wanted to cover in the back of the comp book to make sure I didn't leave anything out. We had two hours and I wrote probably for an hour and fifteen minutes. I read back over the three and a half pages I had wrote, checked my spelling and that I had covered everything, and then walked to the front and put it on the stack on his desk. I felt really good about that first test. 

We came back to class two days later and he had them graded and after the lecture he passed back out composition books. I quickly thumbed through my essay and there were no red marks anywhere. I flipped back to the front and at the top of my first page I saw these words in red, " Very well written. Covered all the facts! Very concise." then I glance to the inside cover of the comp book and see in pretty red pen, "B+." What??? B+? I was very confused.  I flipped back through, reread it and still didn't understand. So after class, I stayed around and walked up and introduced myself to the professor. I told him that I currently had a 4.0 GPA and wanted to work hard to keep that if possible. I said that I had received a B+ on my test essay and asked if he could let me know what I could do to improve my future essay grades in his class. He sat there on his desk, one flip-flop in the floor and one dangling from his unmannicured foot, and asked to see my essay. So I handed it to him, hoping he would just give me an idea of what he was looking for. He flipped through it and said, " Oh, yeah. You wrote really well. I liked that you were able to cover everything so well." I stood expectantly for the "but..." and he didn't disappoint. " ...but, there is no way I am  giving anything better than a B+ for only 3 1/2 pages." and with that he handed the book back to me and dismissed me with a turn to gather his slides out of the slide machine. I quickly went from curious and insecure to indignant. I was floored that he would really base his grade on how many pages it took to say what needed to be said. He had just thrown down the gauntlet to a master-fluffer; he had no idea what awaited him.

Fast forward a couple of weeks to the next test date. The professor gave us the six possible topics and I set to memorizing every minute detail about at least five of them. One of the topics had to do with how the culture of a particular tribe was evidenced in America during a specific time period. This one was very broad and left a lot of room for fluffery; it was the one I spent the most time memorizing ideas about. The day of the test, my husband drove me the hour to the school I was attending for some reason. (I think he wanted to go to a sporting store in the area, but can't really remember.) I told him we had two hours to write, and I wasn't sure how long it would take me. Knowing that I usually do not take the full time, I am sure he expected me within an hour or a little after.

I sat down, with my blue comp book and waited for the test. He put the archaic transparency on the overhead that listed the two choices. BINGO! The one I had hoped for was there and without any further ado, I began writing as quickly as I possibly could. I wrote about everything from the medicine men of the tribe to the food seasonings to the colors in the embroidery. I wrote and I wrote and I wrote. I covered every single minuscule possibility of anything that impacted the culture of this particular tribe and related it to the time period asked about. When I was finished, I barely had time to quickly proofread my work and count the pages. SUCCESS! Right at the two-hour mark, I placed my comp book on the top of the pile and triumphantly walked out to my waiting husband.

Trey looked worried as he asked, " Was it a bad test? How do you think you did?" I smiled and said, " Oh, I think I pretty much covered it all and I don't think he can deduct from my grade due to a lack of pages written." The look I gave must have been that mischievous look that dripped with sarcasm because he immediately and knowingly smiled and asked, " How many pages did you write?" My answer? " 24." with a content sigh of vindication. He just laughed. (I think he is used to my overachiever- itis)

The next class period for Mexican American History, I was anxious to get our tests back. As before, he passed them back towards the end of the class. I flipped through my writing, finding no more than 3-4 marks in red. I flipped to the front inside cover and noticed he had not written any comments at the top this time. I expectantly glanced across the page to see in red pen, "B+". I guess I showed him...

As I walked out, I commented to a fellow student that I was confused as to how to get an A in this class. She immediately asked my major and when I told her it was Interdisciplinary Studies, she said there was no way I would get an A. According to her, and several others around, this professor only gave A's to History majors like her. I asked what she had received on her test and she said " A-, which I am super excited about since I really didn't know what to write." That course was the only B on my transcript for all those 84 semester hours; the best I ever received on a test was an A- once. For a perfectionist, a B+ is as good as failure, but it is not failure. I graduated and not once has a potential employer asked about my Mexican American history grade.

I tell you that story just so you get an idea of how deeply I am embedded in this perfectionism so that you can understand the struggles I have with not being "good enough" in general. I have a tendency to base my worth on my performance in things especially if there is a measurable end goal. (Which makes this blog something with a lot of power to get me wrapped up in success versus failure with each post depending on how many people read it or how they respond- this is a huge learning process for me to just allow God to use my writing however He wishes regardless of whether I see any results or not.)

Now fast forward to the last couple of years. In an earlier blog post, I told you that God had placed me within a company that allowed me to minister and speak into the lives of many women on a regular basis. This position came with lots of rewards based on performance and I excelled greatly at reaching certain goals. Within three months, I had earned a free car and after seven months, I was in a leadership (management) position. My position within this company has begun to change a little creating some new choices. We decided it would be best to return the vehicle so that our family did not accrue any extra expenses. It was a difficult decision, but one that I am completely at peace with now. The thing is though, Satan has whispered more than once in my ear that this was paramount to failure; despite knowing in my heart that God is orchestrating changes and that He placed me in this company in the first place for a specific reason, there were twinges of self-doubt and I fought the urge to succumb to the idea that I was letting other down and had failed them and possibly even God by not continuing to excel the way I had in the beginning.

And then I went to the Ladies' Bible study and later that week opened my Bible to read I Thes 2:1-6. Even more, God smiled at my weakness and sent me a reminder that He is in complete control. The very day the company came to pick up my car, my blog post, (the first one I had written in years) "When God Closes a Door..." exploded like nothing I had imagined! In one day, over 1000 people had read or shared that single post! The day I could have been slapped in the face with what my insecurities (and my enemy) would tag as failure, God showed me His success! In our weakest moments, that is when God can show us more than ever! I won't lie, I shed a few tears, but I was determined to not listen to the deceiving one and to press into the Savior who has never failed me. By the end of the day, I was so excited and humbled and emotional about what God was teaching me.

Reading from my study, these words jumped off the page:

I Thessalonians 2:1-6 " You know, brothers, that our visit to you was not a failure. We had previously suffered and been insulted in Phillipi, as you know, but with the help of our God we dared to tell you his gospel in spite of strong opposition. For the appeal we make does not spring from error or impure motives, nor are we trying to trick you. On the contrary, we speak as men approved by God to be entrusted with the gospel. We are not trying to please men but God, who tests our hearts. You know we never used flattery, nor did we put on a mask to cover up greed- God is our witness. We were not looking for praise from men, not from you or anyone else."

First of all, I need to quit seeing things as failures especially when I know I have followed where God led and did what I was meant to do; sometimes we don't get to stay around long enough to see the real difference made. Sometimes, well many times actually, things do not end up like we thought they would. We could save ourselves a lot of stress if we would quit painting the rest of the picture when God has only made a couple of brushstrokes. (or maybe that's just me)

Secondly, I should not allow strong opposition to guide whether I do God's work. Although the company I am with is a Christian based company, interestingly, there has been outward opposition to being successful in it and to using it as a vehicle to share God's love to others. I think sometimes people get confused and forget that God can use (and usually does) some of the things we consider so strange to further His kingdom. Sometimes others are misdirected and in a well-meaning way feel the need to enlighten you to their perspective. In the end it really doesn't matter if we have the approval or understanding of everyone we know, as long as God is in control and we allow Him to lead us. That last part is key though, do not try to force onto God something you are doing for your own gain and expect it to sit well with Him or His children. I know in my life he has sent those who spoke in love to adjust my direction.

 Which leads me to the last thing about this passage that is utterly crucial: "We are not looking for praise from men, not from you or anyone else." I have to be so careful, especially with my tendency towards perfectionism, to not look for praise from others to decide if I am good enough. The truth is I am good enough and yet I will never be good enough. I know that is a strange thing to say, but what I mean is that I will NEVER be good enough to truly deserve God's love, but by the blood of His son, I am good enough: I am a loved sister, chosen by God! (I Thessalonians 1: 4) All those things that I consider failures, are just silly. I am a loved sister, CHOSEN by GOD!!! During a discussion once about not quite meeting a goal and feeling like I had failed, one of my close friends said, "Stephanie, your worth is not tied even loosely to your performance. If you walked away and didn't even try, your worth would not change a bit." How I am viewed by others might change, but God's perspective of who I am is unchanging, and should stay my focus. This can become a constant battle, especially for those who struggle with low self esteem or self worth. 

I Thessalonians 1:4 " For we know, brothers (or sisters) loved by God, that he has chosen you."

 Even if not another soul reads one of my posts, even if I never earn another free vehicle, even if I had never earned one to begin with, even if I have no friends or hundreds of friends, even if I lose my temper or listen to Satan's whispers too long, or let the praise of others become my focus for a time, even if...I am a loved sister, chosen by God; nothing will ever change that. 

So loved brothers and sisters, chosen by God, what does that mean for you? What is that "failure" that God wants you to see was actually a success? How will you look at future endeavors differently?  In our study, the suggestion was made to approach our Christian brothers and sisters with this same greeting. Even if you don't say it out loud, how would that change your interaction with people? I know I can't even say that in my mind without viewing that person with a little more love and a little more compassion. 

2006 when I got my degree

One last thing I have noticed about my struggles with feeling like a failure is that often I get so wrapped up in the one small event that I am not seeing the whole picture at all. (not that my tiny little brain can ever see the whole picture)  I mean that history class for example, I don't even remember the professor's name, but I remember those grades like it was yesterday! You know what, I still graduated, got my teaching certificate and have been teaching Algebra I to ninth graders for many years now. The car that I recently returned was a huge blessing to our family for about 18 months! We had no car payment and no credit hit, it was just a bonus! Most people don't even earn a free car in their job, much less their secondary, part-time job. Not to mention that I am still a part of a great company that allows me to mentor others in Christ's love often and with amazing women that I love. How can any of that be a failure? It would be like teaching our children to ride a bike and when they finally did it on their own, we say, "Yeah, but you crashed seven times today and you had to keep the training wheels on longer than I thought." We would never do that to our kids! God would never do that to his kids, so you shouldn't do it either. You are chosen. You are loved. You are HIS. Failure isn't really an option anymore.

the amazing car that blessed our family for 18 months

Blessed more than I deserve

~ Stephanie
srieper89@gmail.com
https://facebook.com/heartiscrossed

2 Corinthians 12:9

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.

Then the unthinkable happened...

There I sat, on the floor of the closet, hugging my knees tightly to my chest and rocking back and forth; silent tears U8( down my face. I was more broken in that moment than I have ever been in my life. I hurt from the very core of my innermost being and it felt like I was completely and utterly alone.

When I felt my husband's integrity attacked, I immediately flew into that beastly protective mode; I needed everyone to know the man I loved, not the words they read or heard. (can you say control issues?) In the next year to year and a half, we lost most of our worldly possessions because he lost the job that he lived and loved for many years. Every week it seemed like some new bad event was happening, or something else would be lost. In the end, things are just things, but the impact this long, stressful time of our character being questioned and attacked was almost unbearable. Watching my husband become withdrawn and battle depression sent me into a mix of the same and stirred an intense need to fight for our survival.

Thankfully, our family was (and is) rooted in Christ and losing temporal things was not as devastating as it might have been otherwise. Every morning, we met as a family and prayed together that we would each have a good day. I searched scripture daily and had landed in the Psalms, reading about God delivering David from his enemies and not allowing them to have the victory. I knew, that I knew, that I knew that God was going to take care of everything and that this injustice would not be allowed to happen and be a final blow. I knew it with a deep faith certainty. (in case you missed that)

Here is where things get tricky and I hope I explain my mindset well. I have always believed in miracles. I am one of those people that if we had a need, a physical need, going to God for that and expecting the miracle to happen is second nature to me. I don't worry about the physical needs. That may be because I grew up without a lot of extras but mostly because I know that is how my parents were in their faith; God will provide. This situation was a bit different. It wasn't a physical need I was so fixated on, but the need for an injustice not to happen. The need for "good" to prevail and justice and right and....(this is starting to sound like a Marvel comic) Anyway, you get the idea. I knew God would not allow this awful thing to happen to my husband. I shouted it from the pages of Facebook and to anyone else who would listen. I didn't know how, but I knew it would work out somehow.

And then the unthinkable happened. God didn't come through. God didn't come through?

What was I supposed to do with that? I was devastated and confused. How in the world could I reconcile this in my mind? I knew without a doubt that God had told me it would be okay. I knew that God had given me scripture references to back it up. I had even set the stage for the miracle to happen and for Him to get the glory.

Oops...I had set the stage. Had I become a miracle manipulator in my intense desire to see good prevail? Had I basically tried to lay it out so God had no other option? Like I was really that much in control? (Again, control issues)

You see sometimes I think that is what we do with God. We think that we can set the stage for him to swoop down like a comic book hero and fix things and then we can shout to everyone around that our God is awesome and He just ____________ (did whatever it was.) What if He doesn't want that from you or I? Does He really need us to lead the way for Him; set His stage?

Reread the first few lines I wrote above:

 There I sat, on the floor of the closet, hugging my knees tightly to my chest and rocking back and forth; silent tears streaming down my face. I was more broken in that moment than I have ever been in my life. I hurt from the very core of my innermost being and it felt like I was completely and utterly alone.

I had prayed. I had believed. I had faith even more than a mustard seed; and you know what happened? God let me down! He didn't come through! How could He do that to me?

I was at a faith crossroads. I had to figure this thing out because I was on that floor of my closet and I was crying out to God and I honestly didn't think He was answering at all; maybe not even hearing me. I had never been faced with "What if God doesn't come through? Then what? " He had always come through. I never stopped believing in God, but I had to decide who God was in a very real, very painful, very personal way. It was almost more than I could bear to think that my God had let me down. I had to face those inner demons of thinking bad things are a punishment for bad people; the whispers of Satan trying to steal the faith embedded in my heart. Oh and he is a great whisperer.

To make matters worse, every friend, every worship song, every sermon seemed to focus or mention something about the goodness of God. I LOVE to sing and worship with my voice, but during these weeks, I couldn't. I tried and ... nothing, I mean not even a squeak came out. It was as if the words would not form on my lips. I would stand in the church and not even realize I had tears running down my face and not even be focused enough to know when to stand or sit. I was in a faith-battle haze. I was waging a war against Satan in my heart so difficult and so hurtful that I felt like I might not make it out alive. Praise God, that He resided there already and had decorated the place so well that Satan could fight but he would never have won.

The verse Romans 8:28 became a constant thorn for me during this battle.

"And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose."

Well-meaning friends would quote it or paraphrase it and one dearly loved elderly man of God at church kept saying to me every time he saw me, " God is good, all the time; All the time, God is good." (Mr. Paul would always pause as though he expected me to finish the phrase for him, but I just couldn't do it.) This was a huge part of what I was coming to terms with. I fervently prayed and read the Bible and searched and still felt like nothing was happening; I was getting no answers. For the first time in my Christian life, I was searching for, grasping for, answers that I thought I already knew, and they just weren't coming easily. I felt like I wasn't praying enough, or maybe not well enough; like I wasn't doing enough to get God's attention and all the time the recordings of Satan's whispers were set on replay in my mind. It was a battle extraordinaire.

You see, one of the weirdest things about me is I am very emotionally driven and very logical and the same time. When I take those left-brained (logic/math/order) versus right-brained (creative/emotional/experience) quizzes, I am always split right down the middle. So during this faith battle, my logical side would be saying things like "This isn't 'good.' Why would God allow something so unjust? How can that possibly be good for His children? If He is a loving Father God like I believe He is, He wouldn't allow something that would ruin our lives to happen like this." And then my emotional side would be saying, "God is bigger than this. I know He loves me, He has shown me. I believe Him. He can still fix this." 

After the final blow of God not showing up, our foreclosure was final, we had nowhere to live (but of course God provided), we had no way to give Christmas to our kids (but of course God provided), We lost our vehicle (but of course God provided.) We opened a business and lost a lot of money when it also closed.( but still God provided for us). I was literally in such a state that I felt like God was allowing this attack just like he allowed Job to lose so much. At one point, I even became fleetingly fearful that my children would be harmed or die next! (more whispers of Satan) And then I looked at the story of Joseph.

 This young man was one of many of his father's and his brothers didn't really like him much because he was Daddy's favorite. They plotted to kill him, but instead they sold him into slavery. (Genesis 37:18-36) Talk about an injustice! He became a slave to a very rich man in Egypt and worked his way up in the household of this rich family. 

Just about the time things were starting to look up, Joseph gets wrongfully accused of something he didn't do and thrown in prison for it without so much as an investigation. (Genesis 39:16-20) Now it doesn't say this in the scripture, but I imagine Joseph thinking that God would not allow his brothers to really sell him into slavery. Or maybe he knew that God would come through for him when he was falsely accused. I imagined he thought that the man he worked for knew him better than the words that he had heard and would investigate a little further. Or maybe he just believed God would not allow such an injustice to happen. But it did. All of it happened. He was sold as a slave by his own brothers.  He was imprisoned for something he did not do. 

So how does that reconcile with Romans 8? "God works ALL things together for the good of those who love him." Here is my only answer to that. I finally came to terms with this because I know that my little brain is laughable compared to God. He is beyond my understanding; I already knew that before all of this happened. How then do I expect to understand "good"; or at least God's version of the word. What if He has a different definition of good than I do? What if I, as usual, don't even have a teeny tiny idea of what good really is?

 Joseph, while in prison, interpreted a dream for the Pharoah. This led to him becoming second in command and in charge of all the food that Egypt had stored up during a time when people were starving to death. Guess who came knocking on his door to ask for food for their family? His brothers did and he was in a position, years later, to save his own family from imminent death and to reunite on good terms despite the evil things they had done to him. (Genesis 42) Seriously, it is a cool story- go read it! The thing is, Joseph had time to get beyond the hurt and pains that he had encountered along the way. I do not know if he was ever vindicated or publicly presented as innocent of what he was accused of. Maybe his integrity, hard-work and decency just proved to others who he really was. I am sure he made some stupid mistakes along the way, but Joseph was a man of God. How different would it have been if Joseph had stood in his prison cell screaming obscenities at his accusers and insisting the release him and prove his innocence. I am sure he must have felt like doing that at least once or twice. I wonder if the Pharoah would have ever trusted him to eventually run a large portion of the land? I wonder if some other not-so-loving guy would have been in charge of the food and Joseph's family would have perished? 

So one thing I learned is that God's version of 'good' may not match up with my version of 'good' and that I need to get over it. I don't have the panoramic view of life and I would hate for my family to die in a few years because I was pitching a fit somewhere instead of being used by God. 

The second huge faith lesson and this was what I think hit me incredibly hard and fast. I had to determine in my heart that I was placing my faith in God no matter what. No. Matter. What. Even when He doesn't, I still believe He is. He is working; He is doing; He is loving and yes, He is good. Even when I don't feel it, He is. I decided at the end of those few weeks that my heart was stuck. Even when God didn't come through like I knew, that I knew, that I knew that He would, I still trusted Him. Honestly, that was a hard fought internal battle for me. I had to decide that my faith was not conditional on how I felt or what I saw; my faith had to be completely unconditional. I trust you Lord, even if you don't come through. (like I pictured anyway)

The last thing I learned, and one I probably have to continually work on, is not to be a miracle manipulator! I like control. I think we all struggle sometimes with wanting to feel like we have a little control, but even more so when things are spinning wildly around us. I still have faith that God will provide my every need. I have learned that even though he had given us beautiful things, that His provision could be in something different. For example, I loved our house before, and it was such a God-thing that we even were able to buy that house, so it was confusing when I felt God allowing us to lose it. We had nowhere to go, and no real options to look at, when suddenly, God provided another home. This one is much smaller and not the same as a newly built house, but He provided and it has been good for us. Honestly, by the time the foreclosure happened, the house that was such a blessing had become so much of a burden that it was a relief to let it go.

 God wants us to be content in what we are given. We should rejoice with blessings we know He lavishes upon us, but don't be so selfish to believe that they are ours forever. It is a balancing act of gratefulness and trust. In that trust I need to never lose that ability to have complete and utter faith that God can move the mountain but even if He doesn't my faith cannot be swayed; unconditional faith. 

I had a friend say the other day that "God will not sift you unless there is something that needs to be sifted out." Which sounds really nice, but I am not sure I completely agree. Or maybe her meaning and how I interpret it are different. I think God does whatever needs to be done, and sometimes doesn't need to be done, to further His Kingdom. Furthermore, He sees the past, present and future as one continuum which we are not at liberty to have the panoramic view. Of course when we need something sifted out of our life, He does what needs to be done to remove it one way or another. However, I think sometimes we get sifted because we are standing too close to someone else who really needs the sifting; maybe we are there for them.  Sometimes, maybe because God needs us to be in a different place in the future and although there is no real clear reason in our vision path to be placed in slavery or prison right now, we find ourselves there metaphorically. Sometimes I think we mistake sinful human nature and choices as God's sifting. We live in a fallen world and people all around us make bad, even evil, choices daily . Those consequences have to go somewhere and often they are not contained in and around the one person making the choices.

I don't know if you've ever felt broken and alone like I did on that closet floor. I hope you never have to experience that kind of bone crushing, soul wrenching pain. If you do or have, know you are not alone. Don't stop crying out to God and don't mistake His silence for abandonment. He is there. He is allowing you to work through your faith battle and He is there. Trust Him even if He doesn't come through; unconditional trust is what God wants from us. He does work things together for the good of those who love Him, so don't roll your eyes at the sweet older guy who says "God is good, all the time; All the time, God is good."  every time you see him because he is much wiser than I am and he's right (and because I love Mr. Paul a lot). Just remember that God's idea of good probably doesn't even remotely match your idea of good, so get over it. And whatever you do, don't try to manipulate God to react in the way you want Him to. He is the designer of miracles, not us. Those are my lessons that I hope can help you get through your faith battle maybe more swiftly than I did mine. Oh and get rid of that record player in your head of Satan's whispers. Instead fill your head with new recordings; louder recordings and recordings that you have memorized so well that you can replay them as loud and as often as needed to drown out the enemy of your heart. Scripture is your best weapon when those whispers start. You can't use scriptures you do not know.

FYI: We all survived that awful time. This all happened before I even started writing and this is a family photo taken more recently. (We need a new one already though. This is a several years old)

Blessed more than I deserve,

~Stephanie

srieper89@gmail.com
www.facebook.com/heartiscrossed