These days, I’m fixated on helping broken Christians feel better.

It’s tempting to talk about “in this season of life,” or “my calling,” or other noble-sounding catch phrases. These can become cliche real fast. Seriously, though, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I’m supposed to be when I grow up. Helping broken Christians feel better might be part of that equation.

This is all pretty personal. Maybe even therapeutic, and this is my blog, but you don’t have to indulge me. See you next week!

Otherwise … I’m fixin’ to barf all over you.

When I speak of broken Christians, I’m not talking about when God breaks you. That is a separate issue.

I’ve dealt with this before in this blog. Just as a brief takeaway, understand that no matter how much God loves us, no matter what He wants to do for us or how earnestly He seeks to bless us, He cannot do anything with a person who closes his heart in pride, refusing to bend and break.

God has all sorts of ways to turn us into broken Christians – it might be through some soul-shattering crisis, or a gradual erosion of life. I’d suggest that brokenness from God is to be expected. Ancient script says that “The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18, NIV).

The brokenness I’m speaking of here is the brokenness experienced when, frankly, Christianity isn’t working or delivering for someone.

That sounds sacrilegious, but it’s the reality many live. Maybe even you.

Annoying commercial break. Unless you’ve been under a rock, ignored me, or unfriended me, you know that I’ve developed a heart-driven course dealing with this very thing, Return to Wholeness. The discounted “tuition” ended on September 20, and when it’s officially opened to the public soon it’ll be at the fair market value price.

If you’re interested, though, I can channel Don Vito Corleone and give you “the offer you can’t refuse.” I’ve worried much about coming across like some sleazy salesman, but I’ve come to realize that sales equal service – I’m providing you and others with the very best God has given me. It’s for broken Christians, or those who have broken Christians in their lives.

Here’s the link if you’ve missed it, skimmed by it, or had no idea what I was up to. Significantly, what I’ve discovered is that while the course isn’t for everyone because many are at a good place spiritually, they know someone who isn’t. I’ve encouraged folks to gift the course to someone, or at least pass the link along. 

There was also a perfectly lovely article written about the course and me that you can read here for extra credit.

Enough said. Moving ahead to your regularly scheduled programme.

I always thought, on some level, that Christians weren’t supposed to be broken. We’re supposed to be well and whole, right? When times are hard, we pray, knowing God is there to hear our prayers and respond in a way that glorifies Him.

We say things like “the joy of the Lord is my strength,” and mean it because it’s scriptural.

But we don’t feel it. We join the ranks of broken Christians who are fruitless, defeated, and wondering if this walk with Jesus they’re experiencing is what they signed up for.

Honestly – there have been days when I didn’t know if God won, or Satan won. All I knew is that I lost.

You cheered up yet? I got more.

I’ve never been in a crisis of faith place where I doubted the presence of God, or even the love of God. I have wondered what the heck He was up to, and why He was allowing me to live in such an all-consuming funk.

You might identify. It’s like the bottom of your spiritual life has fallen out. You feel like you need to throw yourself on the mercy of God. Maybe you’ve tried.

Or – gasp! – you’ve wrestled with things like this:

• You used to have daily quiet times, now all you can manage is the occasional Bible reading, and it feels rote and hollow.
• You used to have it all together, now the least little thing puts you in a tailspin.
• You used to do so much good church and kingdom work, now all you do is try to avoid it.
• You used to be so balanced and healthy, and now you’re just a step away from being going carnival-ape crazy.
• You used to help so many other people, now all your bandwidth is used up  by just trying to get through the day.

Can I simply say you aren’t alone?

Check out Elijah, or David, or even Simon Peter. You are going to find them in some perfectly wretched states. But they didn’t stay broken forever.

I’ve thought a lot about all this, and it comes back to my original statement: I want to help broken Christians feel better.

At the end of this blog*, after my sign-off and below the photo, you can see some of my testimony and what has moved me to the space I’m occupying now. Is this a calling for me? I honestly feel it is.

It’s still a work in progress, no doubt. What encourages me so is that, even at age 66, God moves and inspires and equips me. He’ll equip you, too. As I’ve stated so many times, the reason you and I aren’t dead is because we haven’t completed what God put us here to do in the first place. Encouraging, yes?

So I’ll keep developing courses. I’ll be a full-on pest, because I’ve found I have to be brazen to get folks to even look at what the Lord has provided me. People are busy, and obviously what I’ve offered is a lot more important to me than it is others, just because I know what’s in it. I’m trying to get over feeling like a snake-oil salesman. I’m getting there.

I’ll keep writing this blog. It has been an encouragement to a lot of folks.

I’ll keep curating that Transformational Encouragement group on Facebook. We have over a thousand members, there for each other.

As long as there is breath in me, I’ll finish well because I know I’ve helped broken Christians feel better.

Talk soon! Comments welcome.

Tony

*MY REAL CREDENTIALS

In June of 2018 I suffered a nasty concussion. At first it wasn’t too big of a deal – my eye swelled shut, I had stitches, but it all seemed pretty routine. CT scans and x-rays showed no head or brain damage, but I did have three broken ribs. About a week after the injury, I started getting headaches on the opposite side of my head from the impact site. Overnight I developed a sensitivity to light and sound. There were some cognitive issues – it’s like my brain was shrouded in fog. 

Worst of all was the deepest, darkest emotional funk you can imagine. Anxiety, depression, and what I characterized as “a sense of impending doom” became realities. It was/is perfectly awful.

After another round of scans and x-rays, my internist – whom I love much – told me I had post-concussion syndrome (PCS).

No, I’d never heard of it either. All my symptoms were textbook. The cure? Time. I was to be patient. It would “take time.” (I’ve heard that “take time” phrase so many times that I’m afraid the next time I hear it I’m gonna punch someone in the throat.) He also put me on a killer combo of depression/Anxiety meds. 

Apparently PCS victims are prone to suicidal thoughts. Praise God that hasn’t been an issue. Since then, I’ve been to a chiropractor, I’ve tried acupuncture (which was actually pretty fun, but it didn’t really help), and talked to a counselor. All well and good. I’ve also been to a neurologist, and that’s been very encouraging. I’d had a migraine headache 24/7 – that was taking its toll – but again, she’s tinkered and experimented with several drugs and danged if the headache is only maybe three times a month. It’s not constant, and when it comes it hits with a vengeance, but it’s so much more manageable.

This incident – which has come in many ways to define my life – comes on the heels of the darndest year ever. Our house flooded and had to basically be gutted; we were displaced for seven months. I had surgery for two benign parathyroid tumors that were messing with my head. I was diagnosed with cancer – renal cell carcinoma. The upside of that one was that the doc went in, got the tumor and a piece of kidney, and I was good to go with no chemo or radiation or any of those nasty things. And our beloved ancient Boston terrier, Teddy, went to doggie heaven.

Why am I sharing this? Simple. My story is your story.

We all deal with challenges, do we not? life is full of joy and heartache in equal measure. Everyone faces something. Many people respond to life with despair, or at least a sense of hopelessness. Well, I am here to stand before you and declare that hopelessness is not an option.

John Maxwell says, “Leadership is influence,” and that’s what spurred me on to today’s blog, because you make a difference whether you mean to or not.

My blog is all about encouragement, being hopeful, and keeping your head high in chaos. Maybe your primary concern is just getting through the day. That’s a big deal, you know? Many people barely squeak by in the course of 24 hours. Their daily lives are a slog.

Perhaps, then, being an influencer is way down on your list of priorities. Finding your keys may be your biggest accomplishment for the day.

However. You make a difference whether you mean to or not. It all depends on how you want to make a difference.

Do you want to be purposeful and make a difference, or do you want to be random?

Because the choices you make, small or large, can and do make a mark in your corner of the world.

I’d like to illustrate this with a little history lesson.

I am a product of the South. I am not ashamed of that. My “southernness” is a huge component of who I am. But I am not an apologist for the Confederate States of America. Both of my great-grandfathers fought for the Confederacy. While that may seem reprehensible to many today, please understand – we cannot discern the mindset or prevailing culture of our ancestors, nor should we interpret what happened in 1861 through the sensibilities and hindsight of 2019. We don’t know what we would have done back then if that was all we knew.

That, by the way, is why I am secretly amused when people talk about being “on the right side of history.” How can you know that? The Third Reich thought it was on the right side of history, too. I’m wondering if our descendents will look back on these days and ask, “What the heck were they thinking?” But I digress.

I’ve been a War Between the States buff for decades. I’m pretty well-versed in that part of our history, and I can carry on a decent conversation about battles and politics and leaders of that era. That fratricidal war can make a difference even today.

There is a Union officer I want to make you familiar with. He is Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain of the 20th Maine.

Ever heard of the Battle of Gettysburg? It was a pretty big deal. Chamberlain was responsible for repulsing the Confederate advance on Little Round Top, a key geographical position on the high ground of the battlefield.

By all accounts, this event turned the tide of the battle. Short on ammunition, Chamberlain employed a bayonet charge against a much superior force. (I have a link for you to check out. Humor me – it’s a compelling story, even if you aren’t a history buff.)

Chamberlain said, “I had, deep within me, the inability to do nothing.”

Read that again.

I had, deep within me, the inability do do nothing.

Still here? Consider this.

Andy Andrews says, “Historians have discovered that, had Chamberlain not charged that day, the South would have won at Gettysburg. If the South had won at Gettysburg, historians say, the South would have won the war. Now, I had always thought that if the South had won, we would be the North and South, but historians say that had the South won, we would now have a continent that looks more like Europe, fragmented into nine to thirteen countries.

“Which means that, had Chamberlain not charged, when Hitler swept across Europe in the 1940’s, the United States of America wouldn’t have existed to stand in the breach. When Hirohito  systematically invaded the islands of the South Pacific, there would not have existed a country big enough, powerful enough, strong, populous, and wealthy enough to fight and win two wars on two fronts at the same time. The United States of America exists today because of one man who made a decision to charge. One man decided he was a person of action.”

This haunts me.

Part of it has to do with something of a certain self-centeredness I deal with. It’s that “looking out for number 1” philosophy. Self-care is important, but not to the extent that you forget about others.

There are needs all around you. You ever, providentially, wonder if you are the one to meet those needs? Think you can make a difference?

I wonder if Chamberlain ever looked back at the battle for Little Round Top and fully understood what a difference his choice of a bayonet charge made, not only at Gettysburg, but on the outcome of the war itself.

You may not ever lead others in battle, at least in the military sense. There is a battle raging all around you all the time, even if you aren’t aware of it.

It may be that one of the best way you can be encouraged and embrace hope is to act directly on the things you can do something about. It’s getting out of yourself and looking at the higher cause.

At best, you may be able to encourage someone else, help them have hope in what seems to be a hopeless situation.

I can imagine the Union troops looked at the advancing Confederates and wondered, “What are we to do?” And their commanding officer gives some very unconventional orders. It paid off.

I guess what I want you to understand is this:

Act.

Don’t allow yourself to be paralyzed. Take action. The longer you brood and worry, the harder it will be to do something.

Don’t be Tony on a bad day. Tony’s bad days dictate that I spend all my time trying to figure things out. Be faithful to what you know you need to do. It will make a difference in the lives of others … and you.

Some folks are perfectly content with routine, to be ordinary. Some folks find routine stifling.

My seminary roomie, Tommy Phelps, cracked me up when talking about this. We shared the same part-time job – we drove school buses for the Fort Worth Independent School District.

This was Tommy’s litany: “Get up. Go to the bus barn. Pick up the bus. Pick up the kids. Take them to school. Go to school. Pick up the bus. Pick up the kids. Take them home. Go home. Eat and study. Go to bed. Get up. Go to the bus barn. Pick up the bus…”

You get the picture. Our lives can be like laying pipe, or working as a short order cook – lather, rinse, repeat.

This isn’t awful, mind you. But is there more to all this than just doing routine tasks? Are we missing something?

Here’s where I think the temptation comes. I think that often, Satan tempts us to be ordinary. We aren’t awful people. We don’t embrace heinous sins. We are middle-of-the-packers. Good, moral people, churchgoing people, and in the grand cosmic scheme of things, we are honorable Christians. But Satan wants to persuade you that you’re nothing special. He’s really good at that.

And we are barren. We think – “is this IT?” It’s not that we seek earthly acclaim. We like being appreciated, but that doesn’t drive us. We just want to feel, I dunno, significant. Not just to be ordinary.

This got me to thinking about any number of biblical personalities. Many times, they were ordinary folks caught up in extraordinary circumstance. Or, more tellingly, they found themselves in God’s hands. They were made to be significant.

Take the twelve disciples. If I were Jesus, and I was going to select men who would ultimately be responsible for seeing that this fledgling faith not only survived but flourished – I don’t this would have been the group I’d go with. I would have scoured the Chamber of Commerce literature, found myself the best and brightest, and begun recruiting. I’d go after professional people, people with drive and ambition, people who were blue-chip prospects. I’d want sharp people. I wouldn’t want to have guys who liked to be ordinary.

Jesus did no such thing. After an evening of prayer (key point, that), he went after the most unlikely of candidates. Fishermen. Tax collectors. Commoners. And He didn’t have a job description drawn up for each of them. His recruiting speech was pretty basic: “Follow me.”

Doggoned if they didn’t respond to that simple summons. They followed, without trying to straighten themselves out first. They could have remained in their familiar surroundings and predictable jobs. Instead, they left everything behind – jobs, homes, family, friends. Jesus called twelve, graduated eleven, and those knuckleheads turned the world upside down.

Don’t miss this. How like us. In the middle of our routines, when we go about our daily affairs with familiar people, God still reaches out to us. He wants to train us, equip us, change our attitudes, and renovate our souls. In other words, we are NOT to be ordinary.

You may think you are overlooked by everyone else, but you are handpicked by God. You are building a legacy. It may not make you any more significant in the eyes of the world than a potted plant, but you are shaping the kingdom of God. Be ordinary? Hardly.

I sure hope that helps you see your routines in a whole different light. Ancient script from 1 Corinthians 15:58 (NLT) is timely:

“So, my dear brothers and sisters, be strong and immovable. Always work enthusiastically for the Lord, for you know that nothing you do for the Lord is ever useless.”

Feel special. Because you are.

This blog’s tagline includes the phrase, “Be encouraged,” which leads into three reasons to be an encourager. I latched onto that thought early on, when I was determining just exactly what I wanted to communicate to folks who were simply discouraged. I know full well that most of our lives are centered in the thought, “It’s all about me.” That isn’t exactly a bad thing unless taken to an unhealthy degree.

If you aren’t encouraged personally, it’s hard to be an encourager to someone else.

I’ve come up with three reasons to be an encourager.

So, moving out of the realm of being a self-centered clod, thinking the world owes you something (it doesn’t), let’s suppose that we’ve reached a place that we can consider what kind of difference we can make in the life of someone else.

I have an odd aspiration – I’d love, when I meet and interact with people, for them to leave our time together thinking that getting to visit with me was the high point of their day. You shouldn’t interpret that as me being cocky, arrogant, or self-serving. I simply want to be a bright spot in a dark place. Perhaps I can do that best by being an encourager. What does that look like? There are plenty, but three reasons to be an encourager will do for now.

Johann Wolfgang Von Goethe said, “Correction does much, but encouragement does more.” I like that. In my dealings with students, my default attitude is “I need to straighten you out.” But a more appropriate attitude might be, “Let me come alongside you and prop you up.”

What does that look like? Here are three possible reasons you are called to be an encourager.

1. Your encouragement might be just the thing to keep someone else going. We’ve all had the experience of being in a total funk. You forlornly think, “No one understands me. I don’t even understand myself.” I know, right? So, providentially, your path crosses someone else’s. You may or may not know what demons they’re wrestling with. I’m not a believer in coincidences, and I believe that God engineers what may seem like random encounters. You don’t have to swoop down on someone and with a quiver in your voice, say “I care about you.” That can be sort of creepy. Rather, just exercise what I call “the gift of presence.” Just being there communicates your care and concern. If it’s appropriate, you might ask “How are you really doing?” And MEAN it. You can’t fake empathy. Then listen – really listen. Don’t stand there rehearsing what you want to say when they aren’t talking. You might just be a life preserver for someone one day.
2. God is a God of encouragement. You are made in His image. Get it? Romans 15:5 fits here: “May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus.” It doesn’t take too much of a leap to realize that you can be an encourager because God is an endless source for all you need. Your role is simply to mirror what He’s done for you. Imagine that – you can be a little piece of Jesus. If you’re a believer, that’s part of your calling.
3. You have the advantage of seeing things others might not … you can offer hope because you see reason to be hopeful. This may seem tricky, because you may not be in the best of places yourself right now. But latch onto this: The world you now see is not the world that will always be. Here’s a sobering yet encouraging thought: For the non-Christian, this world is as good as it ever gets. But for the Christian, this is as bad as it’ll ever be. It may be tempting to look at the darkness all around and be bleakly discouraged. I’d encourage you to remember that the end is in sight and the best is yet to come. That should encourage you personally, and you can in like manner encourage those around you.

There you go – three reasons to be an encourager.

I hope this helps you think deeply about your purpose in life. Being an encourager is part of your purpose. Don’t forget that. You got this. You can be encouraged by being an encourager yourself.

So many of y’all were curious enough (or motivated enough) to enroll in my COVID Crusher course. It’s currently no longer available – I wanted to have a definite enrollment period. Bless you a thousandfold! I prayed long and hard that it be a benefit and encouragement to you, not only regarding COVID but in other life challenges also. I’m encouraged enough to pursue developing more resources to help you navigate stormy waters. Stick around. Thanks again!

Have you ever said that? “What difference does it make?”

I have. And the extension of that thought is even darker: “What difference do I make?”

Many of us, I’ll wager, would like to make an impact on the world around us. To leave a mark, as it were.

There’s something comforting about living a life well-lived. It doesn’t matter if we occupied a prominent position on the world stage. (That doesn’t even appeal to me. If I felt like I was being faithful to my call, then I was perfectly fine in serving in obscurity.)

The worst fear is that I made no difference. Lord knows that isn’t an ego thing. I’d just like to know that, somewhere along the way, I made a difference in someone’s life. A good difference. It’s pretty easy to make a bad difference.

So what’s up with my sudden burst of introspection? Scoot your chair in close, kids. I’ll tell you.

I’ve been in vocational ministry for decades. Most of those years were spent with teenagers. Hundreds, if not 1000+ kids, were a part of a communal journey.

If I simply played numerical odds, then there was at least one of those kids I, by God’s grace, made a difference with.

So here I am today, not serving vocationally in a local church, but serving my denomination and, in a broader and more accurate sense, the Kingdom of God.

What does that even look like? What difference does it make?

I’m not completely sure, but in recent days, weeks, even months, I’ve tried to heed a call.

This blog is part of that. I want what I share to be transformationally encouraging. But I have been feeling for a while there’s more, maybe even much more, for me to do.

I’m about to get real. “Don’t go there,” you say. Well, tough noogies. I’m wanting to make a difference.

It seems like the natural order of things is unraveling before our eyes. I haven’t talked to anyone in my admittedly small circle who think everything is just fine.

It’s a 2020 deal, for sure. I could offer a litany of what’s happened in the last nine months. Foremost, of course, is COVID-19 (which we just found out today President Trump and others in his circle have tested positive for. For those of you who aren’t United States citizens, this may be cause for eye-rolling. Bear with me.)

That pandemic thing? Did any of us believe it’d still be such a huge issue? To my mind, it’s impacted every element of society. I’ve seen plenty of clever memes about 2020, and I embrace that, since humor, even twisted humor, is a defense mechanism for me.

Still, as I’ve stated before, none of us are exempt from the virus’ impact. It has its nasty tendrils into so many areas of our lives. About the time I think we’re turning some significant corner, there’s a vile setback. It is unequivocally wearing us down.

You doing okay? And if you’re cruising along, happy as a tornado in a trailer park, you are so so blessed. I’ll bet you have friends and family who aren’t doing so hot.

Coming back around to my “what difference does it make” statement, I got to wondering – if folks are hurting, and struggling, and asking hard questions to a seemingly silent universe, what are they to do? Specifically, is there anything I, Michael Anthony Martin, can do to be an encourager?

Here are some of the questions I’ve asked – and, again, by God’s grace and His sovereign gifting, some questions I’ve been able to answer:

● What if you didn’t have to struggle with the emotional roller coaster you’re riding?

● What if your feelings – which can drag you all over the landscape – were kept in check, or channeled to make a positive difference?

● What if you could make significant progress toward peace and security in five days?

● What if you learned transformational skills and tactics that not only will take you through these challenges of the pandemic but will also serve you in years to come?

I’ll share more later. God is so good. When the question comes to my mind, “What difference does it make?”, then, by golly, I have identified a difference that can be made.

Stay tuned.

Be blessed.

“I am immortal.”

Immortality is, to some, a science fiction fantasy. For the believer, however, the promise of heaven is also the promise of immortality.

Is it possible to experience immortality in the flesh? I believe it is.

To say “I am immortal,” and say it with a straight face involves a certain mindset and worldview. In order to make it reasonable, though, I have to introduce (or reintroduce you) to Lottie Moon.

Stay with me here. This will intrigue you. Promise. And I’ll give you a darn good application from a little history lesson.

In some circles (among Southern Baptists), Charlotte Digges Moon is spoken of in the same reverential tones as students of English lit speak of Shakespeare. She’s so honored that she’s lost some of her humanity. She’s attained mythical status. That’s a shame – she was a real, breathing, flawed human. A piece of work, for sure.

(The next five paragraphs are gleaned from the Wikipedia article about Lottie.)

Lottie was born into a privileged family in Virginia on a 1500 acre tobacco plantation in 1840. At four feet, three inches, she wasn’t what you’d call an imposing figure. She must’ve been brilliant; in 1861 she received one of the first Master of Arts degrees awarded to a woman by a southern institution.

Lottie was indifferent to her Christian upbringing, but had a spiritual awakening on her college campus during a series of evangelistic meetings. She was an outspoken and feisty young lady, from all accounts. She ended up in China as a missionary in 1873, sent by the Southern Baptist Foreign Mission Board.

Lottie was initially frustrated. She started out teaching in a boy’s school, but her real passion was evangelism and church planting. Eventually she gave up teaching and moved into the interior to evangelize full-time in the areas of P’ingtu and Hwangshien. Her converts numbered in the hundreds.

I’ll fast forward to the end of the story.

Lottie spent her last years begging for support for her work and other missionaries. Ultimately, she shared her personal finances and food with anyone in need around her, severely affecting both her physical and mental health. In 1912, she only weighed 50 pounds. Alarmed, fellow missionaries arranged for her to be sent back home to the United States with a missionary companion. However, Moon died en route at the age of 72, on December 24, 1912, in the harbor of Kobe, Japan.

There is plenty more to say about her – for instance, she was a strong proponent for gender equality. And she is honored together with Henry Budd with a feast day on the liturgical calendar of the Episcopal Church (USA) on December 22.

Thus endeth the history lesson – and to my point.

Here’s what Lottie said:

“I am immortal until my work is done.”

Read that again.

Let yourself revel in the implications of that statement:

• You and I are here for a reason.
• We are uniquely gifted. No one on earth has the same mix of talents, gifts, and knacks as you and I do.
• You are living in the time you were born for.
• Obviously, you woke up this morning. You’re able to function and comprehend what you’re reading.
• In other words, you ain’t dead yet.
• Furthermore, you won’t die until you complete what you were put here to do.

That should give you crazy hope.

Maybe you’re tempted to think you don’t have what it takes to be the kind of person you’re supposed to be. It might be that your track record of getting things done is lousy.

Want to know something cool? The Lord routinely uses deeply flawed human beings.

Oswald Chambers said, “I must realize my obedience even in the smallest detail of life has all the omnipotent power of the grace of God behind it.”

See? You are immortal. I am immortal. We are still here. And our earthly immortality will be traded for eternal immortality when we’ve finished our appointed task.

You’ve already come so far. You’ve grown in wisdom and knowledge, even in the most minute ways. No matter how uncertain you may feel, there are tasks to do and goals to accomplish whether you understand exactly what they are or not.

Relax. You are a work in progress. There’s still lots you need to do. You’re supernaturally equipped to get it done.

O be joyful.

Tony’s question: How do you go about determining what the next big risky step in your life is? Share your thoughts below.

I’m honored today to introduce you to Carol Ghattas. Carol was a student in my first full-time youth ministry a lot more years ago than I care to think about. From Day 1, Carol was a special young lady. God’s hand has been on her all these years. Her story is worth sharing. Read, enjoy, and follow her blog. The link is at the bottom.

I’m what you might think of as a typical Southern, white Christian woman who’s lived anything but a typical Southern white life. I blame it on The Call.

I got mine at the age of ten, and it changed the course of my life.

I’d been a believer for two whole years, nurtured in a wonderful Christian family and strong church home, but it was after hearing a missionary speak that I heard God telling me: “Carol, you are not going to live the rest of your life in Murfreesboro, you’re going to serve me overseas.”

And I did – though not right away of course, but that didn’t mean I was isolated from the nations. Not only did my parents sponsor international college students, but when a group of refugees from Laos came to my town, I got involved in our church’s outreach to them.

After graduating college, I left home to spend two years in Ivory Coast, West Africa. I wanted to taste the life to which I knew God was calling me. My “tasting” became more of a baptism by fire, as I was faced with realities of mission life:

Even with the harshness of the lessons God was teaching me, I could not push aside his call on my life. I was compelled to seek his forgiveness for my pride and sin, while submitting my clay jar for further use. During a prayer retreat in Ivory Coast, his voice was clear that he wanted me to serve among Muslims. I began seminary in the States with the goal of pursuing full-time mission service in the Middle East.

That’s when God joined my call with the call of an Egyptian-American pastor, Raouf Ghattas.

God knew my weaknesses and allowed me the honor of being joined in service with one of the few men who were actually called to work among Muslims. Raouf was the perfect one for me, and for the next twenty years we served in the Middle East and North Africa. This was the fulfillment of that childhood call in ways I could never have imagined, as I witnessed God at work among the nations.

Closed doors don’t mean a closed call.

We had moved many times during those twenty years, but it was ultimately security issues related to a recently published book we’d written that forced our return to the United States. God brought us back to my, now not-so-small hometown to find that Muslims had moved into the area and were building a mosque. The early years of our “retirement” from full-time mission work, became another full-time local ministry to the Arabs in our county. We started a new church for Arabic speakers and began training Americans in outreach to Muslims.

When my husband died suddenly in 2015, I wasn’t sure what to do. I was working full-time as a librarian and serving as administrator and translator at the church. For the next three years, I pressed on, despite the fog of grief, because I knew God was not finished with the church, though he was moving it into a new era, with new leadership. When we hired a full-time pastor in 2019, I knew God was leading me in a new direction.

Let others speak into your call.

It took time to be at peace with what he was saying to me, mainly out of a sense of responsibility and guilt over leaving the Arabic church. Yet, God knows how to help us through the transitions. He kept sending people my way, former colleagues, friends from the Middle East and even family members who listened and served as sounding boards and counselors to help me navigate this new way.

Some of these helped me see that I needed to take time to grieve. I’d lost, not only my husband, but my father as well. Keeping busy kept me from losing control, but I had to admit that I’d lost the joy of service. I dreaded going to church, translating, and keeping up with people. The love that had compelled me was waning. I knew I had to step back and start saying “no” until I could be refilled myself.

Call doesn’t change – though expression may.

No longer at my husband’s side in service, I began to see how God was moving me back to a “first love” in writing. First in journals, then on Facebook, a blog and in books, God began to show me that though my life had changed, my call hasn’t. He’sjust using a different way for me to serve him and share with others. I come home from work at night and cannot rest until I’ve worked on something related to a writing project or blog post. I’m compelled in a new way now, still by his love, still by that love pouring out for others – all, I pray, to the growth of the Kingdom and his glory.

For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again. (2 Corinthians 5:14-15 NIV)

May you be compelled today to live solely for Christ.

Grace and Peace.

Carol B. Ghattas is an author, speaker, and librarian. Visit her blog at lifeinexile.net.

From Tony … I have a friend named Courtney. We’ve known each other since the cradle. She may just be one of my favorite humans. And God grant that I don’t take my friends for granted! She wrote down some thoughts a few days ago and I thought they were so sweet and thoughtful that I asked her permission to share them with you. Thank you, Courtney. This will be really meaningful to someone today. 

We just need you to stay home and pray…well, just shoot me. This whole gig is right down the alley of the Marys of the world, but for those of us who are Marthas, it is hard. It’s not that I don’t believe in prayer, because I most certainly do, but I have learned over the years that as soon as I am very deep into praying, God starts telling me where to take the casserole. Part of that, of course, is the intrusion of my southern upbringing that has taught me that comfort food helps almost anything, but most of it is the central tenet of life of any extroverted Martha. There is ALWAYS something we can do.

Now I have had more than one spiritual leader tell me that I needed to work on my centering prayer skills, and I do understand the point of the Mary and Martha story. Really…I do. But as I have grown older, I have become comfortable enough with who I am to realize that my gifts lie in the arena of action. I just need to make certain that my actions are headed in the right direction. (Peter is my favorite Bible character…impulsive and sometimes misguided, yes..but also the Rock. I LOVE Peter!)

But I digress. I really meant to talk about mental health during this weird time. What in the world could possibly be my problem, I ask myself, when there are so many people whose path is tremendously more difficult than mine? All that is asked of me is that I stay at home.

Even for those of us who have the luxury of working from home, life is just weird. All the conventions that hold our society together have been turned upside down. We really don’t know how to do this, but we are learning.

I’m an event girl, and all the events I was working on both professionally and personally have been cancelled. I find myself at loose ends. Oh, there are those planning WAAAAY ahead and writing reports chores that can be done. And I can always work on that tutorial about website photos … really, that is on my list, I promise. I mean, I need to keep plugging away being useful during my work time, but the energy is gone. It is hard.

Then there are those connections to people that are so important to me. I am an only child and I really do know how to be by myself. As much as I am the extrovert’s extrovert, I require alone time to recharge. I love a pajama day or a week sitting on the beach house deck as much as the next person, but my energy comes from interaction with others. At work and in my personal life.

As we have navigated through this first month of social distancing, which thank God appears to be working, and are trying to settle into additional weeks, I have realized that these two things really help.

I have learned to try to be intentional about accomplishing something positive each day and counting that a win. Maybe it is just that I successfully gamed the online grocery pick up and got the special mushrooms I needed to make my vegetable beef soup, and we had a really good comfort supper last night with a big pot left in the fridge. Maybe it is that I helped a work friend brainstorm about a creative way to stay in touch with our students. (Please give me a creative task!) Or maybe it is that I am sending a handwritten note to a friend who is grieving. Those things, which in my normal busy world would not even be thought about…those things count. A feeling of accomplishment is grounding.

The second thing I have learned is to try to reach out to a friend each day. It is so easy to lapse into neglecting this. Especially as we feel that tug of sadness pulling us down and it seems easier to hide under the covers and watch Netflix. Short text messages keep us connected, but they do not nourish the soul like a good long visit. Phone chats and FaceTime are better than nothing. Call your friends.

I am reminded of the time here in Southeast Texas after Hurricane Harvey when I wrote a piece about none of us are okay. Even those of us who did not have damage from the storm had weathered a traumatic event. That is where many of us find ourselves right now. And it is really not helpful to question what our problem is, when all that is asked of us is to stay at home.

What we are doing is hard. Let’s don’t add being hard on ourselves to that burden.

I miss you.

Love, Martha

Are you burning? Are you on fire?

Both of those phrases can be positive or negative, depending on where your head and heart are.

If your skin is charred and peeling off, that’s not too good. But if if you’re on fire or passionate or have an appropriate burning desire for the good, this is a virtue.

There’s another possibility – you’re burning because you’re passing through the fire.

I’m sharing this with Christians, but there are some principles anyone can apply.

Ancient script talks about this. Here’s a sampler, from the English Standard Version:

Isaiah 48:10 – Behold, I have refined you, but not as silver;

 I have tried you in the furnace of affliction.

Am I of any use? Have you ever asked yourself that?

This is the tendency I’ve been dealing with in recent days.

If I am to be of any use, I have to “produce” or “perform,” right?

People talk about seasons of life. I know I’m still “Tony,” however you want to interpret that. I also know that every day I’m closer to being old.

With my lifelong tendency to spend way too much time inside my own head, I’ve found myself asking myself that question over and over: “Am I of any use?” Maybe that’s just part of the aging process. I dunno.

There have been reams written about “leaving a legacy,” “making a mark,” “impacting others,” and so forth. Well, since most days I struggle to put on my pants without losing my balance, “leaving a legacy” is often not a high priority.

Still, I’d like to think I made a difference. And I can honestly say that it’s not about me. If there has been positive change from me being on the scene, I don’t even care if folks remember my name. I strive to keep my ego in it’s proper place, like locked away in some dungeon.

I wrote all that. It looks good. Now for the reality.

Sometimes we (I?) think God can’t get by without us.

It’s called being an “assistant to the Holy Spirit.” You know – you have to be available to pick up the ball if God fumbles it. If He’s not responding to a need the way you think it needs to be responded to, then you have to take up the slack.

There may be a byproduct to this – if we are busy about serving the Lord, then we feel better about ourselves.

I have to tread carefully here, but we can be doing God’s work for reasons not exactly honorable. If it becomes about us, then we’re about to get in deep taffy.

So – are you of any use? It’s matter of motives.

If we get all concerned about God “using” us for some great task, we tend to focus our eyes on ourselves, and we become overly concerned about how we walk and talk and act.

This may just be a Tony thing. You’re saying, “That’s fine, Uncle Tony. But that isn’t where I’m living.”

I’m saying we should stop asking “Am I of any use?” and accept the fact that we aren’t of much use to Him.

Here’s the truth:

The issue is not that of being of any use but of being of value to God Himself.

Read that again.

Once we are totally surrendered to God He will work through us all the time.

See what that does for us? The pressure is off. I am useful.

We just need to stop trying to perform.

God’s not impressed.

Be blessed.

(Note: As I write this, I’m in Orlando/Kissimmee, Florida, at the certification conference for the John Maxwell Team. I’m gonna receive my full credentials to be a coach and teacher, which is sort of a big deal for me. I’m a day late on my blog because of that … yes, I could’ve done this earlier. Oh, well.)

Maxwell says, “Leadership is influence,” and that’s what spurred me on to today’s blog. Because you make a difference whether you mean to or not.

My blog is all about encouragement, being hopeful, and keeping your head high in chaos. Maybe your primary concern is just getting through the day. That’s a big deal, you know? Many people barely squeak by in the course of 24 hours. Their daily lives are a slog.

Perhaps, then, being an influencer is way down on your list of priorities. Finding your keys may be your biggest accomplishment for the day.

However. You make a difference whether you mean to or not. It all depends on how you want to make a difference.

Do you want to be purposeful, or do you want to be random?

Because the choices you make, small or large, can and do make a mark in your corner of the world.

I want to illustrate this with a little history lesson.

I am a product of the South. I am not ashamed of that. My “southernness” is a huge component of who I am. But I am not an apologist for the Confederate States of America. Both of my great-grandfathers fought for the Confederacy. While that may seem reprehensible to many today, please understand – we cannot discern the mindset or prevailing culture of our ancestors, nor should we interpret what happened in 1861 through the sensibilities and hindsight of 2019. We don’t know what we would have done back then if that was all we knew.

That, by the way, is why I am secretly amused when people talk about being “on the right side of history.” How can you know that? The Third Reich thought it was on the right side of history, too. I’m wondering if our descendents will look back on these days and ask, “What the heck were they thinking?” But I digress.

I’ve been a War Between the States buff for decades. I’m pretty well-versed in that part of our history, and I can carry on a decent conversation about battles and politics and leaders of that era.

There is a Union officer I want to make you familiar with. He is Joshua Lawrence Chamberlain of the 20th Maine.

Ever heard of the Battle of Gettysburg? It was a pretty big deal. Chamberlain was responsible for repulsing the Confederate advance on Little Round Top, a key geographical position on the high ground of the battlefield.

By all accounts, this event turned the tide of the battle. Short on ammunition, Chamberlain employed a bayonet charge against a much superior force. (I have a link for you to check out. Humor me – it’s a compelling story, even if you aren’t a history buff.)

Chamberlain said, “I had, deep within me, the inability to do nothing.”

Read that again.

I had, deep within me, the inability do do nothing.

Still here? Consider this.

Andy Andrews says, “Historians have discovered that, had Chamberlain not charged that day, the South would have won at Gettysburg. If the South had won at Gettysburg, historians say, the South would have won the war. Now, I had always thought that if the South had won, we would be the North and South, but historians say that had the South won, we would now have a continent that looks more like Europe, fragmented into nine to thirteen countries. Which means that, had Chamberlain not charged, when Hitler swept across Europe in the 1940’s, the United States of America wouldn’t have existed to stand in the breach. When Hirohito  systematically invaded the islands of the South Pacific, there would not have existed a country big enough, powerful enough, strong, populous, and wealthy enough to fight and win two wars on two fronts at the same time. The United States of America exists today because of one man who made a decision to charge. One man decided he was a person of action.”

This haunts me.

Part of it has to do with something of a certain self-centeredness I deal with. It’s that “looking out for number 1” philosophy. Self-care is important, but not to the extent that you forget about others.

There are needs all around you. You ever, providentially, wonder if you are the one to meet those needs?

I wonder if Chamberlain ever looked back at the battle for Little Round Top and fully understood what a difference his choice of a bayonet charge made, not only at Gettysburg, but on the outcome of the war itself.

You may not ever lead others in battle, at least in the military sense. There is a battle raging all around you all the time, even if you aren’t aware of it.

It may be that one of the best way you can be encouraged and embrace hope is to act directly on the things you can do something about. It’s getting out of yourself and looking at the higher cause.

At best, you may be able to encourage someone else, help them have hope in what seems to be a hopeless situation.

I can imagine the Union troops looked at the advancing Confederates and wondered, “What are we to do?” And their commanding officer gives some very unconventional orders. It paid off.

I guess what I want you to understand is this:

Act.

Don’t allow yourself to be paralyzed. Take action. The longer you brood and worry, the harder it will be to do something.

Don’t be Tony on a bad day. Tony’s bad days dictate that I spend all my time trying to figure things out. Be faithful to what you know you need to do. It will make a difference in the lives of others … and you.

My grandmother had a phrase she used from time to time as she aged. She would speak of “the approaching Shade.”

There’s a certain poetry to that. The imagery of a sweet darkness enveloping us as we move from this world to the next is compelling.

I never got the sense that Mama Wilson wanted to pass. (Another old term is to be “translated.” Again, that sounds so much more elegiac than just “dying.”) It was just a matter of being ready.

Death is certain, unless Jesus returns first. Talking about death is sort of taboo. We tend to look on it as an intrusion, when in fact it is the reasonable and expected end of living.

Today’s blog is not a meditation on death. But I did want to use that reality as a backdrop to what I’d like to share.

”The approaching Shade.” How about this as a companion image … sunset.

Now we’re talking. Who of us has not been moved by the glory of the setting sun? When the sky is turned into a riot of color – oranges, yellows, reds … transitioning into powder golds and even purples. Lovely.

Sunsets occur with regularity. It’s a signal that now the day is over. And that’s proper and good.

But can sunset be a verb? Can “sunsetting” be an action taken rather than just a phenomena to be observed?

I think so.

Here’s what I mean. There have been plenty of times in my life when a season was over (yeah, I’m mixing metaphors. Stick with me.) When I graduated in 12th grade, I “sunsetted” my high school years. When Teresa and I got married, I “sunsetted” my single life. When I resigned from a church to move to a new place of service, I “sunsetted” my ministry.

So. Is there anything you need to sunset? Is there something in your life that needs to die? 

That might sound pleasant or unpleasant, depending on where you are and what this would mean to you individually.

Here’s where I’m coming from personally. This will be my annoying autobiographical pause, and then we’ll move on:

• I have ministered to teenagers vocationally for 40 years. This time span includes full-time church staff work, as well as part-time and interim. This also includes a stint with a parachurch ministry. This is nuts.
• This was/is a calling. I have never doubted for a nanosecond that work with students was what God intended for me to do. That was determined before I was even born. There is great security in that.
• At the same time, I know that God’s call is not static. If it pleases Him and brings honor to Him, He can move us in and out of places, engineer circumstances, and bring (and remove) people from our lives.
• Now, in these days, I have come to realize – based on prayer, scripture, circumstances, and the counsel of others – that my vocational work with students is over. In other words, I am “sunsetting” that aspect of my life and call, and I do that knowing God is at work clearly and definitively. Part of this has to do with my brain injury from last year. While I’m not incapacitated by a long shot, and I think some days that I’m showing some gradual improvement, I have to realistically acknowledge what I can do with excellence and be aware that some things don’t come as easily as they once did. Youth ministry is a challenge even on good days, and on those tougher days – holy cow. It can be utterly draining. Rewarding, for sure, but dang hard – physically, spiritually, mentally, emotionally, relationally, every way. (I’d be happy to serve you some cheese with that whine.)
• Since I’ve made that public, people have been gracious. I’m grateful. But that doesn’t mean that I need to be treated like an invalid. I got lots and lots of good stuff left in me.
• The white-knuckled excitement I’m feeling in these days has to do with knowing God is still at work, giving me new opportunities of ministry that He’s custom-designed for me in these sunset days. How cool is that?
• I still get to volunteer with youth. I’ll do that as long as there is breath in me. Some of my former students can come to the nursing home and feed me oatmeal.

Thus endeth the autobiographical pause.

So why did I share that? Simply because it might be true of you.

Back to my question. Is there anything in your life that needs sunsetting?

• Are you in a life stage in which you realize that some things that were once important to you are no longer as urgent? It may be that what have become trivial issues simply need to be set aside so you can focus on what’s really important.
• Do you have a vague sense of dissatisfaction with your life in general? Would it be beneficial for you to sit down with paper and pen and actually write out what’s bothering you? The act of getting thoughts out of your head and into tangible form on paper can be oh-so-helpful. I’m all about journaling. Based on what you discover, you may find that you have thoughts and feelings that need to be sunsetted.
• Is there someone in your life – a relationship – that needs to be sunsetted? Let’s be careful here. I’m not talking about just randomly slamming the door on someone just because you’re unhappy with them or something they’ve done. Redemption and forgiveness should be your default position. But – and I’ll be candid and tell you it’s taken me years to understand this – not loving someone is unacceptable and unchristlike. I do think it is perfectly proper, though, to separate yourself from someone who devalues your soul. Everyone in your life is there because God put them there; and in the same fashion, He can remove them. You are commanded to love everyone unconditionally. But sometimes you have to simply love the memory of them, perhaps yearn quietly for what once was, and move on. This is hard – I wish I could help you more with this one.
• Are there desires you need to sunset? I’ve historically had problems with my “wanter.” I like stuff. I like to have things. There have been times, though, when I let my desire for stuff override common sense. I’ll bet that, even now, you have everything you need and plenty of things you want. Can you be satisfied with that?
• Here’s a scary one. Do you need to sunset a cherished belief? I don’t mean abandoning your faith or anything as radical as that. But it may just be that you are more open than you once were to opposing viewpoints. This all has to do with having a teachable spirit. I have yet to meet anyone that I couldn’t learn something from – if nothing else, just having confirmed that what I believed was right in the first place. Still, you can learn an awful lot from those who don’t see the world the same way you do. Who knows? You may be wrong. Wouldn’t you like to know if you’re wrong so you can sunset your mistaken opinion? I think it’s so wonderful to be taught something by someone not even close to your own age, your gender, your upbringing, or your worldview.

I think you understand what I’m saying. Sunsets, by nature, are quiet, transitional events. It’s not like flipping a cosmic switch. It’s a slow fade, a gentle move from light to darkness, and … it’s beautiful.

This is about you taking a sincere look at yourself, being circumspect, and doing some earnest self-examination. Most people are afraid to do that.

I’d encourage it. We are all works in progress. Sometimes there are things in life that need to be led into the darkness. That shouldn’t be scary. If it makes you into something positive that you weren’t beforehand, this is a good thing.

It’s a natural progression, just like so much in creation. The light fades. The night descends. While it is night, it is natural to fear the dark.

Yet there is the promise, the guarantee of dawn. A new day comes filled with new possibilities and opportunities. Embrace that.

Don’t fight the sunset. It will come whether you like it or not. Fortunately (and here’s where the analogy breaks down), we do have some authority as to the timing and reality of some sunsets. Choose those wisely. Sunset what needs to be moved on from. It will go well with your soul. Quoting that great theologian, Scarlett O’Hara, “Tomorrow is another day.”