I haven’t eaten Taco Bell in years. As an adult, I succumbed to the fact that my body really only ever rejected such an offering. “I’m gonna regret this,” I’d say to my high school friends when grabbing a quick burrito before practice. We all laughed. But, at some point, it wasn’t funny anymore.
I’ve suffered moderate to severe stomach pain since I was fourteen. As I write this, cramps that pulse up and down my abdomen, seemingly catching on other organs and twisting and turning make it hard to breathe. This is normal for me. And it has been for seventeen years.
I can hear my son giggling with his daddy and I think of the many moments I miss while curled over in the bathroom. I’m weary of missed moments, of asking for prayer again, of being scared to eat, of fearing the next attack. I’m weary of chronic illness. …
“Dees,” said the sweetest little voice as our son pointed out the “doggie” in his bedtime story. It’s my new favorite thing. That and a million other things he says and does. Like how he follows our amens with an adorable “anay.” Or how he reaches over to play with my sleeve or hold my finger. Even how, to show his affection for his daddy and I, he grabs our legs and goes in for a big bite. Motherhood is sweet.
Before my husband and I began our journey into parenthood, I was thoroughly prepared for the pain and frustration that being a mom would bring. Mommy bloggers on social media preached to me that motherhood was a sort of death. Not the holy, Christlike death to our self-service that it truly is, but a death of all things easy and joyful.
They made me believe I’d hate my days at home with a little one.…
This article was originally published on Gospel-Centered Discipleship.
It was a warm October that year. As the leaves began to boast one last time bearing auburns and oranges before falling to their death, I suspected new life. The first signs of pregnancy found their place in the smell of a far-off unlit candle and the heaviness of my eyes. One pregnancy test later and my suspicions were confirmed. But just as we lost our first baby, this one was gone too soon, as well as our third child.
After nearly two years of walking through devastating grief on grief on grief, I was diagnosed with Recurrent Pregnancy Loss.
It was like walking through a season of storms and steady rain. The storms are like tsunamis, threatening to overtake and drown your life in sorrow. Once the storm is hushed, you’re left with unrelenting rain—the steady undertone of sadness as you learn to live without the babies you’d hoped would be part of your life. …
One evening at Bible study a few years ago, a comment was made that immediately sent me into a spiral of questioning my salvation. I drove home with fearful thoughts swirling in my head. When I finally arrived, I knelt down beside my bed and wept before the Lord. What if I’m not a true believer? I wondered.
Assurance of salvation is something most Christians have struggled with at some point. Am I truly saved or am I just fooling myself? Will I spend my whole life thinking I’m fine only to be one of the people Jesus declares he never knew (Matthew 7:21-23)?
These types of questions make anxiety pulse through our hearts. Our sin lies before us and we worry if that angry thought or this sinful action could be a result of a heart not yet saved. Soon, we find ourselves looking so inwardly that despair is our closest companion.…
Tim Challies has deeply encouraged and impacted so many writers over the years, including myself. Just in my small writer’s group of six women, we each could name the many ways he has spurred us on not just as writers but as disciples of Jesus.
So when I heard the devastating news of the loss of his dear son, my heart was crushed. I looked into the eyes of my one-year-old son and couldn’t fathom the depth of grief my brother and sister in Christ are facing. So today, I’m joining my fellow writers and pausing to pray for the Challies family.
Oh God, we lament with this dear family over the loss of their beloved son. We weep with them and cannot imagine the grief they are experiencing. You know, Lord. You see. You understand. You care. You draw near to the broken-hearted. You are not far off. No Lord, you’re carrying them through.…
This article is part of the series on Lies People Believe About Reformed Theology.
Lie #4: The Doctrines of Reformed Theology Teach that One Can’t Know They’re Truly Saved
Lack of assurance regarding salvation is a common concern among Christians. Many Calvinists or Reformed believers wonder if they’re one of the elect. For the Arminian believer, the doctrine of election erupts a discomfort within that stems from salvation being accomplished by the hand of God alone rather than man’s choice. If it’s true that God has sovereignly chosen who will respond to his call of salvation, how can we be sure we’re saved?
Following Where Logic Goes
Many who hold to an Arminian view of salvation believe that humans choose whether or not to be saved, and once saved God keeps them in the faith. But, logically speaking, if we believe we have any control over salvation, why would we no longer have control once we make the choice to be saved?…