“You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.” - Pink Floyd 

HOW HARD COULD IT BE?
I stand on the slopes with rental skis, boots, and poles ready to go. I look good with my cool new jacket, pants, goggles, and gloves. It really is about how you look on the slopes, or so I thought. I’m ready to step, or slide, into this new chapter of my life; Jason the extreme skier.

My body surges with the adrenaline as I stand in line for the lift of the “bunny hill". The fact that I’m in this line is humbling for a 19-year-old, but I suspect we would only be here for 1 run, maybe 2. I just need to quickly get the feel of skiing before we move on to bigger and better. Glory awaits! I always pick things up pretty quickly, and skiing would be no different. This is just a warm-up for greater things to come. Everyone starts off on the “bunny hill” and I have to pay my dues. I wait patiently for my turn, surrounded by little kids.

Up to this point in my skiing career I realize that I have never actually skied downhill. That reality hits pretty hard as our lift approaches the top of the run. The first sign of things to come is my dismount. I stand up confidently only to experience one ski going left and the other right. It’s not a pretty picture watching a 6’ 4” man do the splits immediately getting off the lift. I was never meant to do the splits. I’m lucky if I can touch my toes on a good day. For some reason, the snow doesn’t take my inability to stretch into consideration as it launches me into this new adventure called the “bunny hill”.

I hear the lift slow down to a stop behind me as I try to compose myself on the exit ramp. That’s going to hurt tomorrow, I think to myself. I can hear the kids on the chair, now suspended in the air behind me, complain to their parents about the lift stopping. I can hear the parents frustrated responses as they comfort their children and use it as a teaching moment to explain that everyone falls down sometimes and their turn would come soon. This is my first reality check of the learning curve of snow skiing, but one mistake does not make a theme, yet.

I recover and “pizza slice” my way out of the way to meet my friend who is trying to hold her composure and keep an encouraging attitude. “Pizza slice” is when you keep the tips of your skis together and push the backs out to form a wedge, slowing down your descent. “French fries” is when you keep your skis parallel to go downhill and gain speed. If you’ve ever been on the “bunny hill” of a ski resort, you’ll hear parents or instructors calling out “pizza slice” and “french fries” all day long. You typically only have to worry if you hear a frantic “pizza slice” from someone behind you. That means a kid is “french frying” their way faster and faster down the slopes. They can’t stop and you better get out of the way.

Unknown to me, this would be the beginning of a very long and humbling day. My friend has skied her whole life and is being very patient as she waits for me to catch-up to her 15 years’ experience in 1 day. If you’ve ever experienced what I’m talking about and can resonate with this story, you know how discouraging it is to see little kid after little kid ski circles around you as you try to figure out “pizza slice” and “french fries” for yourself. It’s harder than you think.

I ended the day very frustrated. Had I only understood my love / hate relationship with the idea of success and failure, I would have probably been more patient in the moment. That whole experience screamed failure at me and my mind was a non-stop self-accusation. “Why is this so difficult for you to figure out?” “What makes you think you can keep up with someone who’s been doing this for 15 years?” “You’re never going to be able to do this, you missed the starting gun!”

THE CLOCK IS TICKING
Pink Floyd has a song called Time which seemed to me like it was from the perspective of an old guy warning a young guy not to let life slip away. There’s a lyric in the song that has always resonated with me for some reason. It goes, “You are young and life is long and there is time to kill today. And then one day you find ten years have got behind you. No one told you when to run, you missed the starting gun.” When I first heard that lyric it almost put me in a state of panic. It was as if someone was screaming at me from the future, warning me to get moving or else I wouldn’t live up to my potential. As much as I enjoy this song, it can be certainly put me in a state of fear.

When I was younger, I often felt torn. On one hand there’s the sentiment of this song that would lead me to believe I wasn’t going fast enough or accomplishing enough in life to make the most out of it. On the other hand, I felt as if I hadn’t lived enough life to be prepared for what the risks were, or to be taken seriously by others. Maybe you’ve felt this way. If so, I have great news for you.

God has plans for your life, has uniquely created you to reflect His love to this world, and it’s been decided before you ever took your first breath. God wants you to look toward the future with hope, wonder, and excitement. If He’s telling your story, you never know what’s around the corner.

Secondly, God loves using the “foolish” things of this world to shame the wise (1 Corinthians 2:17). I don’t know about you, but that gives me hope. Here’s an example of what I’m talking about.

How old do you think the 12 disciples of Jesus were when He called them to follow Him along the path of ushering in God’s upside-down kingdom into this world? If you’re like me, you would assume they’re in their 20’s or 30’s, have some sort of life under their belt and qualifications for the God of the Universe to use them to establish His kingdom. I would have certainly believed that when I was in my late teenage years. If you’re like me, you would have been wrong.

Scripture tells us in Matthew 17:24 that temple tax collectors came to Jesus asking for their tributes. Not having any money, Jesus tells Peter to go fishing and he will find a shekel in the mouth of the fish he catches to pay the tax. Peter does what Jesus asks, and finds the money just as Jesus said. Crazy story! What’s fascinating is when you dive into the context. The temple tax that was being asked of was mentioned in Exodus 30:14-15. This passage mentions the tax that Jesus was asked to pay for His crew. The tax required was half a shekel for each person over the age of 20. Jesus was able to satisfy this tax with a single shekel which means only 2 of them were over 20. We know Jesus was in His 30’s. It was probably Peter, the married guy, who was older than 20. The rest of them would have been between 13 – 19 years old.

Isn’t that wild? Jesus placed the future of His kingdom in the hands of teenagers and one guy in his 20’s. Guys who didn’t grow up “skiing.” They were thrown into the deep end right out the gate. No training. They probably didn’t grow up with aspirations to change the world, and yet Jesus chose them to carry the good news of God’s Kingdom coming in power into the world. They were the ones responsible for being witnesses to the entire world for all that Jesus had done. They wrote a bunch of the Bible. God’s ways are not our ways. His thoughts are far above our thoughts. There is no stopping His kingdom. Teenagers couldn’t even mess it up, and trust me, they messed up plenty.

Even at your age, God sees your potential to make a difference in this world. He has created you for incredible things; works prepared uniquely for you from the beginning of time. It’s an adventure and it costs everything. Let me tell you that it’s worth every last cent. You’re invited to trade comfort and predictability for uncertainty that leads to adventure. You’re invited into a story greater than yourself by a God who is bigger than you could ever possibly imagine. Don’t let the idea that you’re too young be a barrier to meaningful action in the Kingdom of God. Don’t let the lie that you’re “too late to the party” to stop the story God is telling through you. What you do today matters and has eternal weight. He’s ready for you. The story has already begun. Now the question becomes, “Do you trust God?”

TO GIVE UP OR NOT TO GIVE UP, THAT’S THE QUESTION
It could have been really easy for me to give up on skiing after that experience. Everyone around me had been skiing their whole lives. I was a California boy thrust into a winter snow sport that I had no idea how difficult would be to learn. Because of my fear of failure, I’m hard wired to not try if I don’t think I can succeed. I’m my worst enemy and it is a fatal flaw of mine.

The truth is, God is not surprised by your situation, circumstance, and where you find yourself today. That’s good news. He’s been preparing you for the good works He’s uniquely created for you. That means He will take you down the right paths when the time is right to get you ready for the work ahead. You don’t have to believe the lie that you’re too late to the party. The story is being told, and if you’re trusting God, you are part of that story. You are uniquely created by God with inherent gifting and perspective that this world needs to understand God better and experience the incredible, sacrificial love of Jesus. You are needed.

I GOT BETTER
It took some time and commitment, but I was able to get better at skiing. It started with being able to get down the “bunny hill” without falling. It transitioned into going down longer and steeper runs. Boundaries began to be pushed over time. Confidence grew, maybe a bit too far. We started hiking and skiing down fresh snow. We would go down runs that seemed to be more about controlled falling instead of skiing. Over years of practice, I’ve learned to truly enjoy time on the slopes and time in the mountains. I’m so glad I didn’t give up that day. I would have missed out on some really amazing experiences over the years with people I dearly love.

What is the thing that you think you’re too late to the party to learn? Is it a language? School? A career you’ve always wanted to do? Do you want to become a pilot? Nurse? Missionary? Pastor? Husband? Wife? Mom? Dad? Has God stirred your heart for things or given you dreams? What are you waiting for? What’s holding you back? What are the lies you believe about yourself that are holding you back from all God has for you? What are the lies that the enemy whispers to the fears you hold so dearly? We all have them. It takes recognizing them for what they are and taking a step of trust toward a God who has an adventure for you. It’s time to get on with it!

Take some time and write down some of the dreams and aspirations you have or have had in the past. Pray about them. Ask God to confirm them and start to take steps toward them. Trust is your act of worship toward a God who loves you deeply. It’s time to get excited!

"...lean in. Embrace the incredibly unique season of life this is. One we hopefully won’t experience again but if we do it well, we may remember with the somberness of those lost, by mostly with gratitude for all that was gained."
 
Hey friends, I wanted to reach out and share something I was dwelling on today and summarize some of the thoughts and insight you have shared with me in recent conversations over the past few weeks. 
 
I believe that this is a time God intends for us to grow and mature in, rather than just make it through by the skin of our teeth.  As we’ve all heard a million times in recent days, “to thrive instead of just survive”.  When Adam was in the garden, communing directly with the Lord of Creation, there was unspeakable peace, joy, love, gratitude and contentment in the abiding. No striving, tireless scheduling, earning, seeking validation....just being. 
 
There is no doubt that this is a challenging time and in no way do I intend to minimize any of our struggles or fears. The health concerns for ourselves or loved ones. The fear and insecurity that comes with a loss of a job, reduced hours, or a furlough.  The new job opportunity or investment in a new business that now looks riskier. School closures and vacation cancelations. Isolation from community, friends, family and hobbies. The feeling of vulnerability, increased exposure, insecurity, fear and anxiety. These feelings are very real, scary, discouraging and felt collectively by nearly all persons worldwide like no time in the last century. 
 
But what if we could ask the Lord to see the current time and experiences through the His lens? What if, instead of the red ticker that scrolls across every screen, every day, announcing the death rate or some other fear-inducing statistic, we could ask Him what he desires to show us during this time? We could turn off those screens and just be, abide, love, serve, create. 
 
We don’t need to be naïve but five minutes on your favorite (hopefully factual) news site should be enough to know everything you need to know for the day. After that, turn it off. Focus on more present time with your family. If you are single and live alone, see it as a once in a life time gift to spend time in prayer, The Word, reading, meditation, worship. An opportunity that likely will never come again,  to grow immensely both spiritually and personally.  
 
When else in life will you be given the grace by others and yourself to not work 10 hours a day, rush to get the kids to school, or whatever activity or sport they may have. When else do you let yourself off the hook for not putting in your hour at the gym. You can mow the lawn without feeling like you are just trying to fit it in around your crazy schedule. Walk the mower a little slower. Smell the fresh-cut grass. Learn to bake or be a grill master. Learn to fly fish or how to play bridge.    
 
Soon enough we will all be back to the reality and rhythms of life that existed until 3 weeks ago. Back to the job, the relentless schedules, mandates and demands. Don’t find yourself a week into the return to normalcy wishing you had taken advantage of the 8-week semi-sabbatical.  
 
It’s an incredibly unique time to be a very present father, husband, friend, brother, son. A GIFT, if you can choose to view it that way. Not without its challenges to be sure, but a break from the Matrix for enough time to reflect and recalibrate. 
 
What’s God want to show you during this time? What does he want you to emerge from this with? A closer relationship with Him and others? Likely. A more peaceful spirit and the ability to find rest. An opportunity to grow massively in faith and trust, the primary currencies of Kingdom living.  
 
With the lack of outside responsibilities, appointments, and packed schedules you could reallocate some of that time to talking with family and friends more. Learning to play that dusty guitar in your attic, or practice a few extra words of Spanish other than cerveza and bano for next year’s trip. Read that classic piece of literature you’ve always wanted to but never found the time (Walden by Thoreau is on my list, seem apropos for the isolation we are experiencing and the extra time to commune and appreciate nature.)  Walk more. Sleep more. Read more. Sing more.  
 
For myself, I have 3-year old and 5-year old sons. My wife is a school teacher doing her best to serve and teach her student and parent community from the confines of her laptop while trying to help balance the schedules of our sons. I am a small business owner with 10 employees that serves fresh produce to restaurants, schools, cafeterias, cruise ships, stadiums...I could go on but I’m sure you get the point. Not exactly the busiest and thriving customers currently.  
We are dealing with the change, the insecurity, the concerns for each other’s wellbeing like everyone. We fail miserably most days to do any of our responsibilities well, so we learn to be okay with so-so.  
 
A natural tendency when we are experiencing the collective and communal challenges is to allow for greater tolerance for many of our vices. We justify it more for ourselves and others. I know grace, love, lack of judgment, patience for one another are needed in times like this more than any other, but I encourage you to try and maintain the level of self-control you have so purposefully cultivated in your life and with your loved ones and brothers a gentle, understanding and loving encouragement to stay the course. 
 
Remember, this is a pandemic, not exactly life or business as usual. Just surviving a pandemic is usually considered a win. 
 
As such, lean in. Embrace the incredibly unique season of life this is. One we hopefully won’t experience again but if we do it well, we may remember with the somberness of those lost, by mostly with gratitude for all that was gained.

We were careful. We washed our hands. We didn’t leave the house except for groceries and exercise, and when we did, kept our socially responsible distance. Yet, Easter weekend arrived, and my wife Angie woke up with pretty obvious COVID-like symptoms. I myself have had some very minor symptoms, but nothing compared to what Ang was dealing with, which literally kept her asleep on the couch most of Saturday and Sunday.

As we settled into Easter Sunday evening, it became more apparent that her symptoms may last for an extended period of time. Even though it was moderate compared to the life-threatening cases we all hear about, the weakness and shortness of breath she experienced would severely limit her ability to be the active stay-at-home-mom that she is used to being.

Fortunately for me, my work has been extremely flexible for families coping with COVID. The message I got when I explained the situation to my team was, “take care of your family – we’ve got this.”

So, there I was, taking a “stay-cation” with my two boys while my wife rested and healed up. In reflection, the week reminded me of a few things I feel compelled to share.
The first is how much I love to spend long stretches of uninterrupted dad time with my kids! Yes, it can be challenging at times, but everything else gets put into perspective pretty quickly when spending time with them  I love discovering more about their personalities as they continue to form.

Jude (2) is extremely sweet and is also our bold challenger of the two. It’s a lost cause when I realize I’m in the middle of a power struggle with him; he is not shy about what he want. Despite being told “no” at times, he will often take whatever action he deems necessary as his world crumbles around him. Jude is also our entertainer. It’s not uncommon for him to do or say something so weird and hilarious that the rest of us just look at each other, laugh and shake our heads in wonder of how he comes up with that stuff.  

Cohen (5) is our critical thinker of the two. He asks SO MANY questions. Sometimes it’s exhausting (actually, a lot of the time), and usually it’s not something I have a lot of mental capacity for in a typical weekday when I’m done with work. But this week, I have all the time in the world. My favorite kind of questions are about things Cohen is recalling from the past and making connections to what we are doing in the moment. His creativity is a treat to observe.  

My absolute favorite “Cohen” questions from this week were about song lyrics (we listen to a lot of music). He asked me the other day what a “beast” is and who can kill it. After honing it in with some follow up questions, I realized he was wondering why the people in the Eagle’s song Hotel California, “…just can’t kill the beast.” I explained the commonly used phrase as best as I could. He thought a bit more and said, “I think God and Jesus can.”

This surprised (and of course delighted) me at first. How could a five-year-old come up with this on his own? However, the more we talked about it, the more it made sense. I consistently stream a playlist of my favorite worship music throughout our house and many of those songs talk about the power of Jesus/God above any other power. Those songs declare things like, He’s our protector. Our healer. The list goes on. The more I think about this endless list of attributes for God, I wonder how I will explain them to my kids when they ask. I also start to question what these roles of God actually (tangibly) mean for me, and how can I point to these examples in my life? More on that later.

The second thing I realized this week is you can fill a lot of free time with young kids using water and dirt.  

For the past few years, I’ve been developing a semi-elaborate above-ground sprinkler system to irrigate our entire yard. The annual assembly of said system quickly became a highlight for Cohen. Now Jude is following suit in his excitement. With the summer-like conditions this week (and frankly not much else of a time-filling plan) I opted to bust it out early this year. Needless to say, there was much rejoicing in the Visser household.

As for the dirt, we have an old garden box in our back yard that didn’t actually produce any notable vegetation in the years it was used. The problems are obvious when you examine the location of the box – it’s shaded by our south fence for most of the day and is tucked between multiple trees. As a result, there are hundreds of competing roots that fight for the same soil. Now that it’s converted to a dirt box for the kids, the dirt itself is still hard and clumps together with all the previously mentioned roots.  

It seems like every year we pull a ton of roots out in an attempt to make it easier for the boys to dig and play. Yet, every year the roots remain because we would only remove a portion of them, or perhaps they grew back in. This year is no different, and as I sat beside the boys methodically digging, it was nearly impossible to ignore the life lesson that came to mind. Before you start thinking this is another overdone root metaphor (it kind of is, sorry), it might not be the one you assumed. Let me explain…

First, to make my illustration clear, “roots” represent habitual sin in our lives (and life = “dirt box”).  We all have sin, just in different forms. One area that my mindset has been changed in recent months is how to deal with these persistent roots, and more importantly what my role is in removing them.  

This idea of playing a role in fighting sin may resonate with you, but I’ve often had this picture of healing and restoration being a light switch God just flips. As if one day, in one instant, I would have a realization through a sermon, bible study, or self-help book. Or, maybe God would simply remove a sin pattern from me if I was diligent enough in my prayers or at the point He was ready to take it from me. To be clear, I’m not saying this cannot happen or that God doesn’t work in this way (I also can’t speak to the theology behind this debate). However, hoping that God would just take away my habitual sin without my active participation in combating that sin wasn’t working.

I read a book recently called The Bondage Breaker by Neil T. Anderson which has completely shifted my mindset around my role in extracting my “roots”. The book introduced me to a concept called the Battle for Our Minds. In short, we have patterns that we’ve learned apart from God, and those patterns don’t just get deleted when we make the choice to follow Jesus. Again, not to say God cannot instantly remove them, but this has not been my experience. When we repent of our sin, that is literally defined as “a change of mind” to alter our choices. The bible says God, “transforms you into a new person by changing the way you think (Romans 12:2).”  However, this doesn’t say our life patterns or habits are instantly changed!

To make things more difficult, we have an enemy on this earth who wants to deceive us and keep us slaves to our own sin. This enemy attempts to control our thoughts in order to control our lives. If he convinces us that we have no power to overcome our sins, we will give up the battle more easily.

Whether it be spiritual affliction or internal thoughts/temptations (it ultimately doesn’t matter which), the battle for our mind is real. We must have the discipline to avoid sin and the realization that if we do not resist sin, God will not do it for us.
Perhaps I can let Neil T. Anderson say it best -- this is directly from The Bondage Breaker (p.199):

“Suppose a person [cries out], “God, do something,” and nothing happens.  So the person [wonders], Why not, God?  You are all-powerful.  Why won’t you help me?  Don’t you love me?  Maybe I’m not a Christian, and that is why God hasn’t answered.  That is the mental and emotional status of most people I have worked with.  They question God’s presence, question His love for them, and question their salvation.  Why didn’t God do something?  He did.  He disarmed the devil, forgave our sins, made us a new creation in Christ and positioned us with Christ in the heavenlies at the Father’s right hand.  Whose responsibility is it to submit to God and resist the devil?  Whose responsibility is it to put on the armor of God, take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ, stand firm in the faith, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts?  Can we assume that there will be no negative consequences if we don’t carry out our responsibility?  Will God bail us out if we don’t?  I have not seen that happen.”
 
Back to the root problem in my backyard dirt box.  If I liken the battle for my mind to the battle for my dirt box, I see that it will take work on my part to clear out this space permanently instead of kicking the can another year. Also, I will need to guard myself against the roots that will try to grow back again and again each year. Sin will not fix itself without me playing an active role.

The good news is, as a Christian, I know it’s not just me on my own – that’s where Jesus steps in. When I think about the previously mentioned conundrum on how to answer questions my kids might have about attributes of God, I think about how these attributes impact my life, and it starts to become clearer. Singing songs that Jesus is my strength, my encourager, and my hope is now more real to me because I know the role He plays and the role I must play in partnership with Him. I have the confidence of what He accomplished on the cross, knowing He’s given me all the authority of the Holy Spirit and the strength I need to overcome the temptation of my habitual sin. As the bible says, “He will not allow the temptation to be more than you can stand.”(1 Corinthians 10:13).”  

The best way I can testify to these truths is that I’ve already seen the impacts in my life of winning this battle. In the past when I’ve tried to resist certain temptations, I would reason myself into them.  I would say, “It shouldn’t be this hard to get past this, so maybe it can’t be that bad. After all, I’m only human.”  After giving into the temptation, part of me would wonder, “Am I really a Christian if I continue to struggle with these things? Where is this freedom from Christ that I hear about?”

Now, I understand the battle!  I can see past the reasoning my mind steers toward and am more apt to cut temptation off at the very beginning. Am I perfect? Of course not! Do I still mess up? Of course I do. Now, I can genuinely say I’ve made choices, with confidence (through Christ) in my power over them, to avoid some of the habitual sins that have plagued me in the past.  

Beyond this, what’s even cooler is that I’ve gained an unexpected sense of anticipation to take on even more of the roots in my life. The small ones are easier of course, but I’ve even started to chip away at the bigger ones. In time, I’m confident that through the power of Jesus, and my active participation, I’ll come out the other side more Christ-like than before.
With that in mind, back to digging – I have work to do!

“The inertia of redemption carries your story along.” – Paul Tripp

The road lines blur through a thick veil of tears as I’m merging onto the on-ramp and let God have it. “There’s no way in Hell this is good, God!” My screams are swallowed up by the ambient sounds of the near-empty freeway and my tears hidden by the blackness of the night. Words not typically in my vocabulary reverberate off the windshield and echo in my mind. I’m not generally an angry man, but tonight I am. Anger and hurt are pouring out of me at decibels I have seldom reached. How could a God, who is supposed to want my good, allow such pain? How could the one who said He’d carry me, seemingly let me fall so hard?
 
I once read that we have 100,000 miles of blood vessels running throughout our bodies. Think about that. 100,000 miles. That’s enough to wrap around the earth four times. 
 
Now imagine each of those vessels lined with barbed wire, and imagine someone pulling this wire out. Excruciating, to say the least. That is what a long season of my life felt like. Like God was pulling out barbed wire through each and every inch of my being at variable speeds. Sometimes fast, sometimes slow. But no matter how fast or slow the pull, pain ensued. As the wire slid through each vessel, each barb would take with it a piece of me. It wasn’t selective. As it took the bad, with it came a lot of good. As it took with it a lot of idols, anxiety, fear of others, vanity, it also took relationships, dreams, happiness and security. It left me a bloodied mess. 
 
But blood is not always bad. 

I am a physical therapist. In my job, I see a lot of patients that have undergone various surgeries to repair, reconstruct, or alter the body in some way to help them optimize as full of a recovery as possible. One of the procedures I get to rehabilitate people after is called a microfracture. These surgeries are done in areas of bone that have lost cartilage, typically during an injury. Without this cartilage, we can lose significant mobility, motion, function, and simply live in pain. So, during this procedure, a surgeon will purposefully poke a series of small holes in the end of a bone to induce bleeding, with the hope that this bleeding will stimulate regrowth of cartilage. 
 
Sounds kind of crazy, huh? Why would someone purposefully fracture something, making it more unstable and more vulnerable? If surgeons care for their patients, why would they seemingly damage them further? 
 
Because sometimes induced trauma is necessary. 
 
Temporary damage is purposefully caused so healing can occur. The body needs a trigger to become aware that healing even needs to happen; that it can happen. 
 
After the actual surgery, there’s rehabilitation. Rehab isn’t fun. Typically, full weight-bearing isn’t allowed until five or six weeks after surgery. And it’s painful. On top of the pain that was present before surgery, now we have increased pain and dysfunction because of the surgery. But in the end, it’s worth it. The patient may walk with a limp for a little while, but as time goes on they get stronger, eventually walking normally again. They are able to get back to activities that once would have put them at risk. Yes, they could have lived without the surgery, but they wouldn’t have thrived.
 
This reminds me of a story in the Bible about a guy named Amos. How does microfracture surgery possibly relate to the Bible you may ask? Well, Amos was a normal guy God asked to walk away from his day job to be God’s mouthpiece to His people. 
 
Amos was a shepherd, but he also was an arborist; he tended to trees. Amos specifically took care of sycamore-fig trees that often grew in the valley. Now typically, these trees produce fruit, however, left to its own devices, this fruit is bitter and lacks sweetness that we would typically attribute to most fruit. Amo’s job was to bring out the best in these figs. The way he did this was by manually scratching or wounding the skin of the fruit. By doing this, it would allow some of the juices to spill out onto the outside of the fruit, thus speeding up the ripening process and making the sycamore-fig sweet enough to be eaten. This, too, seems counterintuitive. How can damaging something on purpose lead to something better? I don’t know the exact science behind the process, but for this particular fruit, it just works. 
 
Just like the surgeon performing the microfracture induces healing through initial damage and bleeding, Amos similarly does this to the fig to make it good fruit. Before this process, the fruit is essentially useless. It may grow, but without the trauma, no one wants to eat it anyways because it is so, so bitter. 
 
God asked Amos to convey a similar process to His people, who were ripe with sin. Amos was the one chosen by God to deliver a message of God’s wrath—destroying what was bad—and then hope—restoring life to His people by raising up the faithful few to whom He would give His blessing. God performed surgery; He drew blood so things could be renewed. God scratched the fruit. He allowed pain so actual fruitfulness could occur.
 
Sometimes we need that trigger. Our hearts are the same as that damaged bone or bitter fig. We need a signal and a process to be started. We need pain to be induced so we can become aware of our desperate need for a Savior to save us from our idols, our sin, and ourselves. Just like our bodies can compensate for injuries, we begin to find ways to compensate for the wounds we have collected over the years. We learn to live with our less-than-free selves. We may not even realize it, but it happens. We get so used to functioning out of fear and anxiety, pride and defensiveness, shame, guilt, etc., that we settle for an existence that is less than what God wants for us. Even if we are aware of our need for heart surgery, we may not know how to start the process, much less have the courage to do so. 
 
So, pain becomes God’s grace to us. 
 
He allows us to bleed a little so our hearts can be transformed. Once the process starts, real healing can actually occur. It may take a while, but God wants to transform us into who He created us to be in the first place, before the effects of the world, the flesh, and the enemy got ahold of us. But we still have to opt-in. We can try to escape the pain and choose not to let God do the work in us that He wants to do, but in the end, it will just lead to more pain and more heartache. The temporary pain of opting in is so worth a life of freedom.
 
Although that long season of my life was painful, I’m so thankful for those barbs and the bleeding. With each rip, they took pieces of me that needed to go. Sure, some good things were ripped in the process, but who’s to say that those things can’t grow back? Who’s to say that what grows won’t be better than what was there before? There have been moments that I have been brought to tears at the realization of what God has done in my heart, the things He has removed, and the good things He has put in their place. And as I think about it, there is still no other way that I could’ve imagined to fix myself on my own. So, in the moments of crying out to God asking, “How is this good?” He was there all along crying with me yet whispering in my ear that it was for my good and for His glory. I’m thankful that God would allow the pain because I, and others around me, see the fruit. I couldn’t have done that on my own. Only a loving Father can take brokenness and bring true life. 
 
You may one day find yourself in a car, screaming at God on the freeway. It’s okay to be there. God isn’t scared of what you have to bring; He wants the real you. He can simultaneously hold your hurt and the immense hope He has for you. He may allow some fractures, and he may allow some scratches and wounds. In those moments, know that He is a good Dad who gives good gifts, and He can use absolutely anything to bring you healing.

"God pursues you with an intensity that can breathe life into you." Jud Wilhite

It started with a dream.
 
Do you ever ask God for a crystal ball that shows you your future? Just a small glimpse of ten years out to know that your marriage will be okay, your kids will be safe, and/or your life has not crumbled into a million pieces? I prayed for a look into my future when Jesse and I were trying to get pregnant. We had been trying for six months and I was starting to get worried about our ability to conceive for a second time. God answered my prayer. He gave me a dream. I dreamt that I was pregnant, and that I had cancer.

So, was it a dream? Just a bad dream? It was not really a bad dream though. There was no panic or fear.  A fearful dream would have been from the enemy. I moved on quickly from my dream. At the time, it did not feel like a divine message of what was to come.  

Months went by and Jesse and I continued our plans to get pregnant. We both went into the doctor to see if they could diagnose our inability to conceive. During a procedure I had to test my fallopian tubes. The ultrasound technician noticed something blocking my uterus, polyps potentially. After a consultation with my OBGYN, a D&C was scheduled to, “clear out the cobwebs” as my doctor lovingly put it. As part of the procedure, they would send in samples from the tissue removed to have it biopsied. The results came back abnormal, but I was told not to be concerned. I was advised to meet with an oncologist to discuss future risks of uterine cancer.  

After my procedure, we were advised to wait a full cycle before trying to conceive again. We do not follow rules well. A few weeks later, I had noticed my cycle was off. Even though I expected things to be off due to the procedure, I took a pregnancy test. The faintest of lines showed up. That long-awaited second line was actually there!

The next day I had my meeting with an oncologist. I was practically giddy walking into the office because I was finally pregnant. I told the doctor right away about my good fortune. He proceeded, without compassion, to tell me I likely had uterine cancer and it was very unlikely that this pregnancy was going to be viable. I felt my whole body physically flushing with devastation. He wanted another pathologist to review my lab work and he would get back to me.  

Three weeks later, I get a call from an unknown number on my way to work. The oncologist was on the line. He nonchalantly said, “You have uterine cancer. Do you have any questions?” Questions? I had forgotten my name at that point. I responded with, “I don’t have any questions.” He then proceeded to tell me to call his office if I lost the baby and that we should meet after my pregnancy.  

I sat in my car in the parking garage at work and made two phone calls. One to my very understanding boss to tell her I would not be coming into work and the next to Jesse. I cannot think about this moment without crying. I know God was in the passenger seat of my car with me. Even though I was completely blindsided by this information and the fear of losing my baby, He knew this was going to happen. He even gave me a warning this was going to happen. He got me home safely in a moment when I should not have been driving and covered me in His love during that day.

When we were trying to get pregnant, I had listened to a podcast by Melissa Hessler. She said, “Does a winter tree get insecure about its naked and barren branches? No! It yields to the season it is in. If you asked it to bud leaves it would say, “No, I’m resting and growing my roots”. It will blossom again in time.” I knew in the months we were trying to conceive that God was growing my roots. I have never felt closer to Him as I did in that season. Once I was safely home, I gave my baby, my son, to God. The baby was always His, but I relinquished control and knew whatever happened to this little miracle was God’s plan. And God is always good. I could not do this with my first pregnancy. I didn’t trust God enough.
 
Life continued, as did my pregnancy. I was sick all the time but grateful that our baby continued to grow. At fifteen weeks, I woke up in the middle of the night because I thought I wet the bed. I was confused and disoriented as I stumbled into the bathroom. When I turned on the light, all I saw was blood. Too much blood. I reasoned it must be a miscarriage. I cleaned up and laid in bed for 8 hours until I could go into the doctor. I cried in a waiting room for over an hour before I was told to come back later in the day for an ultrasound.

 I had enough with these doctors. I told the nurse I needed to be seen by someone who would, at the very least, check for a heartbeat. I’m sure they envisioned a desperate pregnant woman jumping over the counter and throttling them otherwise. After the flash of fear in their eyes passed, they brought me to an exam room. It only took a few seconds for them to find the most glorious pitter-patter. Our baby still had a heartbeat. Later in the day we had an ultrasound and we discovered the blood was a result of a tear in my cervix. Other than some restrictions I had to adhere to, everything would be okay.  

I was set on a mission to find all new doctors. I knew the treatment I was getting was not enough and I was not being cared for as a person, only a patient. I thank God for this guidance because this was not going to be the only hurdle I would face.  

My pregnancy continued to be difficult. Once I got past the constant nausea, we found out that the baby had a two-vessel umbilical cord and I had an auto-immune disease. I had an ultrasound almost every week to monitor the growth of the baby. My new doctors (of which I had three) were collaborative and diligent in making sure we stayed healthy.  

I took 8 different pills and drank 80 grams of protein a day. I could not exercise or do anything strenuous. The stress was building for me. I thought about the well-being of this baby constantly. Would the cancer affect him? Would he grow quickly enough? Would he have kidney issues? Were we going to get to meet this little boy? At a point when it all seemed like too much, I found a bit of solace when we picked out a name for our son. We choose the name Jaxon which means God’s gracious gift.  

God’s gracious gift

Jaxon was a breech baby that did not want to turn. We scheduled a C-section and having a scheduled arrival date made things simple. I flew out my mom, wrapped things up at work, and went to check into the hospital. As I sat in the operating room with my back arched so they could do a spinal block I could only think one thing… RUN! They were about to cut me open, and I wanted to get out while I could! But I stayed. I knew everything I had been through in the prior 18 months was going to be nothing in comparison to holding my son, Jaxon.  

Being a mother has provided me with many life lessons. Some lessons have shown me where I need to grow as a child of God. Others have given me an understanding of God’s love for His children. Until my daughter Lexi was born, I could not fathom loving like God loves us. With Jaxon’s birth, I was ready for the life-altering love that motherhood could bring. My heart grew meeting this little boy. He is such a gift for our family.  
6 weeks after Jaxon’s birth I had another D&C as part of my cancer treatment. My pathology came back quickly. As I held the miracle baby, I was unsure I’d ever get to meet, I got the news - there was no cancer present. The progesterone from my pregnancy treated my cancer.  

My relationship with God grew in a season of waiting; a cancer was found that we wouldn’t have known about if we hadn’t had trouble conceiving; our family now has a healthy baby that defied his perceived viability; and my cancer was cured by his pregnancy. This truly was the most gracious gift from God.

Gifts are not always wrapped in pretty paper with a big bow. Sometimes they arrive later than you expect, and the packaging is a big mess. Everything about my experience was a gift from God. During our struggle to conceive, God provided a sense of peace and growth in our relationship. I can be slow to listen and stubborn. As a loving father, He was patient with me. He was alongside me when I found out I had cancer. I prayed that He would release me from the fears of not being able to meet my son or not living long enough to raise my babies. He gave me a sense of gratitude. A perspective to see that our inability to conceive is what allowed the doctor to find the cancer in my body. We can’t always see the darkness growing inside of us, but God shone His light on this, and it was caught early. And of course, the grand finale of gifts, a beautiful son and clean pathology report. Having cancer and being pregnant is perhaps the greatest journey of my life thus far. I’ve never felt deeper or relinquished control more.

Ephesians 2:8 - "For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God."