It usually happens when it’s dark. That’s when the walls begin to close in. That’s when it’s quiet and it’s hard to avoid the thinking. It comes to the surface. It always does. It’s as if someone took a sledgehammer to my soul.

Burying it doesn’t always work. I’ve tried it. That’s because when I bury something, I bury it alive —and my heart can always tell.

It starts slowly, a small teardrop falls to the ground; but it makes way for a river. The cry comes from my bowels. The silent scream I’ve held inside is attempting to release weeks, months, even years of unspoken hurt and pain.

What becomes of the brokenhearted?

Who hears our cries? Who tends our pain? And why do we hide it? Why do we do our tears the injustice of denial? Those tears, the ones we all hold onto so tightly, are the hearts attempt to water the dry and empty places of our souls.

Brokenness is costly. But we don’t have to carry it alone. Someone else has already paid the price for it. Someone else really does care about our heart. Someone has already gone before us, making a way. He knows how it feels. And somehow, there is comfort in the knowing that someone else understands. We are not alone.

How do I know? Because my heart has been broken. I’ve walked through shattered dreams, unmet expectations, and that bone-chilling wilderness. And wilderness journeys always require something of us don’t they? That something is our heart.

So I offered mine up as a living sacrifice to the only one who could tend to it with the kind of care I needed. Unfailing love.  It’s the only love that can heal a heart that is hemorrhaging.  That’s why he came. That’s the message of the cross. Listen to the words of Isaiah 61:1:

“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners….”

What becomes of the brokenhearted?

We have a choice. I had a choice. I said I wanted healing —but I often chose to walk in the shadows. I said I wanted freedom —but there were times I chose bondage. I said I believed He was near— but I didn’t draw nigh.

This is Easter. Resurrection is here. He came to give us a new heart. Something to replace the heart of stone. We must choose wisely, rise up, and let the Savior of mankind give us the gift of unfailing love. One that will never perish, spoil or fade because it was paid for in full.  Paid with blood.

Lest we miss it, it cost Him everything.

So read the Easter story. Then read it again–slowly.

Because somewhere along the journey of brokenness, you and I decided some things about the heart of God, and about his willingness to tend to ours. So perhaps this Easter, we need a reminder that God got messy with the storyline of his one and only Son so that you and I will not grow weary and loose heart.

Accept the only gift you need this season. Let him in to bind up your broken heart, and experience resurrection.

Have you given your broken to heart to God? If not, what’s standing in the way?

Michael Jordon turned fifty in February. Where did the time go?  As I read the recent piece in ESPN magazine on Jordon by Wright Thompson, I felt sad for Michael. Each of us reaches a place in our lives where we realize that most of the living we’ve done is behind us; and I believe it brings us face to face with our own inadequacy.

There wasn’t much Michael Jordon couldn’t do; but he couldn’t slow down the hands of time. It catches up with all of us.

A scary thought, but perhaps a necessary one. Jordon is vulnerable in this interview. He talks from the heart. A rare look into the soul of a man most of us pretended to know, but didn’t know at all. That’s what happens to us when we’re scared. We get real. We dig deep. We need. We become transparent.

What’s all Jordon’s nostalgia about? Slowing down. Reflecting on a life lived. Wondering. Finding peace. Letting go. Not being the best anymore.

Think about how hard that must be. You were the greatest basketball player in the world – and now the games over. Your time is finished. You love the game, it’s in your soul, but your body doesn’t love it anymore. It can’t keep up. It’s someone else’s turn now.

Whether you’re a movie star, a sports icon, a supermodel, or anyone else who has ever loved a game, a ball, a set, a runway, or any career and watched it fade, well, let’s just say the backside of glory can suck the life from your soul.

For Jordon, it was more than just a game. More than the fame, the money, reputation, and all the trappings of success that went along with it. In the end, it’s really about passion. When you love something, when you’re driven to it, it becomes your refuge. You breathe it in like you do air. You need it to survive. It completes you. Without it you feel lost.

So what does someone like Michael Jordon do when the music fades and everyone has stepped away? He does what all the rest of us do – he tries to make peace with his own soul. How? By finding something bigger than himself to depend on.

Age softens us. It makes us ponder. It makes the rebel warrior inside of us smaller. How does Jordon go on? He finds a big God. A different passion. A new set of rules to live by. Is it possible? Absolutely. But only through acceptance and surrender. We must accept what we can’t change and we must surrender the old way for the new.

Life isn’t over for Michael Jordon, or anyone else who is facing mid-life or old age. As long as there is breath there is a life. You are positioned exactly where God wants you to be. Consider this by Andy Andrews, author of “The Noticer”

“What is the fundamental thing we know about people who can breathe?” “That they are alive?” “Correct!” Jones exulted. “That they are alive? Therefore, what might we ascertain from the fact that you can breathe?” “That I am alive?” Willow said, a bit more certain this time of her answer. “That is correct,” Jones said. “And with that realization, we have the beginning of a chain of simple, unvarnished truths about your existence on this earth. Your very breath provides authentic and infallible absolutes that cannot be disputed. Here, my friend, even during what you may consider the worst time your life, is proof of hope. Incidentally, this proof is genuine regardless of a person’s age, physical condition, financial situation, color, gender, emotional state, or belief. Now, listen closely . .  If you are breathing, you are still alive. If you are alive, then you are still physically, on this planet. If you are still here, then you have not completed what you what you were put on earth to do. If you have not completed what you were put on earth to do that means your very purpose had not yet been fulfilled. If your very purpose has not yet been fulfilled, then the most important part of your life has not been lived.”

Beloved, life is hard. The losses we incur in this life will assault our hearts, but if we can remember that we were designed for a bigger picture, a greater story, something far grander than even being the greatest ball player that lived – and in a moment – was gone, we’ll find joy in the living, not just the remembering.

What is eternal will never perish, spoil or fade. May that give us the courage we need to press on – because the story isn’t finished yet!

My husband calls her Bella, a middle name that describes her beauty.  When she sees me her world stands still.  She runs and jumps into my arms – such joy, such excitement. She delights my soul. Such is the blessing of grandbabies.

As we play, I watch her. Life is simple.  She mother’s her dollies and her baby sister. She is content.

I pray.

I find myself wishing I could keep the world from moving in and dismantling the joy and contentment of such simple moments in her life. I wonder how I can demonstrate a life that teaches her this discipline in spite of my own wandering heart.

Genuine contentment flows from what I love, and I confess that sometimes I don’t love wisely.

The little one teaches me that only one thing is necessary for contentment. Presence. The giving away of the heart to the one you love.

I feel it when she reaches for me in the night when she’s afraid. She touches my face for assurance. Presence calms her. She asks for her song. I sing. Contentment comes. We’re both satisfied because we feel the unspoken love between us.

The contentment her love brings draws me to His love.

This is the love we were created for. It paints a picture on the canvas of our souls and opens our hearts to experience the joy of true contentment.

Then the world steps in, and I become aware of all of things that lead me away from the one thing that is most necessary. Presence. His presence.  Ann Voskamp says:

“Every moment my inner heart is saying No to the God of the universe—I am saying yes to the enemy of my soul.”

I ask myself why it’s so hard for me to remain content in perfect love. My heart is so prone to wandering. I chase after the idols of career, success, relationships, and control, believing that somehow they will fill me.

I say I desire contentment in Him, but I chose a divided heart.

I say I desire His peace but I allow chaos.

I say I desire solitude with Him, but I seldom take the time to be still.

Whatever direction I allow desire to take me in will determine the condition of my heart. If I chose unwisely true contentment will elude me.

Then the little one comes and reminds me. She whispers in my ear – a secret. We giggle. She tells me not to concern myself with the duties of the world. We have more important work to do together. She tugs on my hand to suggest the urgency of our mission. “Play,” she says, and invites me to step into the wonder of contentment that requires only presence.

The sweetness of presence connects us and makes our world together come alive. It’s about knowing and being known. It brings me back to the Father. Back to the presence that stirs my heart and reminds me that He is inviting me moment by moment to experience contentment, just as the little one does, tugging at my heart to know and be known in a way that no one else can.

Jesus is calling us beloved – receive the gift of contentment today through the gift of His presence.

I’m a book freak. I love to read, but more importantly, I love to read books that will help paint a lasting picture on the canvass of my soul. Books that are rich in poetic words and wisdom are right up my alley. Why? Because they make me stop and ponder matters of the heart.

Reflection is a necessary part of growth, but many of us are too busy to take that time to be quiet. So first up for me is a book that helped me do just that:

The Celebration of Discipline – Richard Foster

This is a classic book that should be read by all. It’s a look at the spiritual disciplines and how to practice them in your life. Don’t let the title fool you into thinking these are more rules to follow in your faith. The disciplines were developed to help cultivate an intimate relationship with Christ.

What I learned: Silence and solitude were the biggest challenges for me. This book is key to finding out how beneficial it is for us to actively seek out stillness and be alone with the Father. I also learned about contemplation prayer. I teach the disciplines to my clients as a way to connect with the heart of God. There is no better way.

When God Doesn’t Answer Your Prayers – Jerry Sittser

Everyone struggles with unanswered prayer at some point in his or her lives, and Jerry Sittser does a great job helping us understand the complexities of the sometimes-messy business of doubting God. This is a masterpiece.

What I learned: That prayer isn’t about what God does for me, but what God does in me. It’s also the way we build an intimate relationship with God.

When God Weeps – Joni Earekson Tada & Steve Estes

Another masterpiece dealing with the enigma of suffering, and written from a woman has had more than her fair share. The thing I love best about this book is that Joni doesn’t give trite cliché’s on suffering, she digs deep from personal experience and provides relevant answers for the hard questions. She makes a solid case that our sufferings matter to the Almighty and they are providing for us an eternal glory that far outweighs our present circumstances.

What I learned: That God is more interested in my growth than my comfort. That although the trials in life sometimes don’t seem to be evenly distributed and we aren’t privy to the “whys” God has a specific plan for my life and my sufferings.

Strong Women Soft Hearts – Paula Rinehart

This little book made a huge impression on me. Counselor Paula Rhinehart writes about washing up on the shores of midlife only to find herself feeling empty and without purpose. This is a great book that digs deep.

What I learned: That life and loss can cause us to lose heart. In order to resurrect our hearts, stir our passions and re-invest in what matters we have to give our hearts with reckless abandon to the God who has been searching for them all along. Only then will we find true fulfillment.

A Grace Disguised—Jerry Sittser

This book is a raw an honest account of a man who has experienced monumental loss. Hit by a drunk driver, he lost his wife, mother, and young daughter. Jerry writes straight from the heart.

What I learned: The losses of life are inevitable.  Loved ones die and dreams are shattered, most lie beyond my control. What I can control is my response to these losses and allow them to shape and transform my heart into something wondrous.

Finding God – Dr Larry Crabb

This was the first book I read by Larry Crabb. I love his transparency and how real he is about his own personal struggles. He gets real with God and wrestles with some tough topics on life and faith. Dr. Crabb says that doubting God is our deepest problem because when we doubt God’s goodness we are in fact left to take over responsibility for our own well-being.

What I learned: There are so many incredible nuggets in this book that I have pondered for years. But what Dr. Crabb echo’s so poignantly is: life is painful, we are selfish, nothing satisfies us, sorrow outweighs joy, and nothing good is certain. Every path we take leads us back to self.

This is the state we find ourselves in when we confront brokenness. These were heavy words, challenging me to the core of my being. The only solution is finding God; in Crabb’s words “I know you (God) are all I have, but I don’t know you well enough for you to be all I need.”

What I learned: This book allowed me to entertain some tough questions about life, faith and suffering, and set me out on the journey to find the answers. In the process I found the heart of God.

Windows of the Soul – Ken Gire

This book calls us to search for God and listen for his voice in the most astounding of places.  Ken is an extremely gifted writer and this book will open your eyes to a new way of seeing, hearing and experiencing God.

What I learned: That God is a pursuer God. He is searching for me each day and lest I’m not careful, I will miss him. “I will seek him and find him, when I search for him with all my heart.” Jeremiah 29:13

Waking the Dead – John Eldridge

Eldridge is a master storyteller. His focus is always the heart. This book is a must read for men and women.

What I learned: The losses of life have waged an assault on our hearts. We are in a battle to reclaim our hearts because they matter to God. We must re-invest our hearts with a bigger plan and purpose in mind. (Hmmm…sounds like my book)

If you love to read and love the idea of growth even more, each of these books provides priceless wisdom and answers to life’s toughest questions. I hope you will be blessed. And please let me hear from you.