The other day I just... couldn't. Stress, fatigue, and anxiety were taking over. I had been trying so hard to keep moving forward on the righteous road but that day it wasn't working. I was empty. Spent. I desperately wanted Him. Needed Him. My discouragement was taking over as I realized my halo wouldn't shine bright enough that day to get His attention. I couldn't get the right Bible verse to lift me up the way I wanted. Everything I held to be true was slipping through my fingers. The world was dank and cold and I was alone. Then, three little words escaped from my lips and everything changed...

Come get me. That's all I uttered. I felt like a little lost lamb taking cover under a bush. I wasn't hiding from the Shepherd I just couldn't get back to Him. I needed Him to come to me because I couldn't go to Him. Before I even finished saying those three little words He was there. His fingertips were already brushing my face. His strong arms already lifting me. He didn't have to come look for me. I was never out of His sight. In that moment of vulnerability I was made whole. 

Some days are hard. Some days you can't fake strength. In those moments, and in every moment, He is there. Call to Him. Let Him reach for you. Let Him scoop you up and take care of you. Of course these days are temporary as we're only passing through...

Recently I have been dealing with stress and anxiety. There have been lots of changes, decisions to be made, and other issues that have left me tense and down. At the same time, the past few months have been filled with wonderful revelations, exciting possibilities, and confidence. On the surface these two extremes may not seem like they should be together, but if you read through the Psalms you'll see that they often do coexist. I often read through the Psalms and think, "I feel ya, Dave!" Worry often pops up when we are called to a new level of faith, doubt when we are reminded Who is really in control, and fear when a new path is laid out before us. I do not, for the record, think these differing views should stay together long. In fact, they cannot. When I am most anxious it is usually because a fork in the road has been presented - to rise up or stay put. 

In dealing with this stress and anxiety I often thought of 1 Peter 5:7 and Psalms 55:22 where we are encouraged to "cast our cares upon Him." My struggle was that I was casting my cares on Him but nothing was changing. Each morning I threw my burdens to Him, but at the end of the day they came back like a boomerang. To be completely honest, I was tossing them to the Lord like I was delivering newspapers from my car and saying, "here you go, I'll be back later!" I viewed the process much like dropping off shoes to be shined up nice and pretty. You do the work, Jesus, and I'll be back later to retrieve the new product. Thankfully, Truth came into this situation - He never told me to throw my burdens to Him and leave.  Jesus does not babysit my burdens.

He started gently whispering the word "abide" every time I thought of the word "cast". He wanted me to remain. With Him. He was reminding me of John 15. My stress and anxiety was growing because I was dropping something off and then turing my back. That's not how this is supposed to work. I wasn't anxious because of the burden I carried, I was anxious because of the relationship I was neglecting. In His presence we find peace, calmness, and assurance. We find our reason for being and the purpose of life. His Being is Life. 

The casting and abiding are still taking shape in my mind as the truth of their meaning grows and becomes more clear. But, once again it is His grace that brings me back to His heart. It makes me think of the times one of my grandmothers would say to me, "come, sit for a while." They just wanted to be with me and spend time together. It was always a comfort to hear those words and to know how truly loved and safe I was with them. How much more are we comforted and kept safe by the Lord! So, I will keep striving to abide in Him as I cast my cares at His feet. I will remember to not treat Jesus as a babysitter for my burdens. Of course, this is temporary as I'm only passing through...
​

When I was a child I distinctly remember the day I watched the Cleaver family, on the Leave it to Beaver show, walk to church. I could not believe my eyes! I called out to my mother to tell her what was happening, thinking she would be surprised. Instead, she nonchalantly pointed out that seeing a family go to church on TV during that time was normal. Most people attended church back then, she said. Since that day I have thought often of the Cleaver family going to church. It actually bothers me greatly. Here's why...

I did not grow up in a generation of "good people". The Baby Boomers did, along with their parents, called the Greatest Generation. They lived in a world where most people had a general sense of right and wrong and abided by the norm of being good people. So, the Cleaver family went to church. People were outraged and shocked when Rhett Butler told Scarlett O'Hara that he didn't give a... well, you know... on the big screen. Men did not swear in front of women and children, women dressed appropriately and modestly, and children were well behaved and obedient. It was a happier time, a gentler time, and the world looked clean. People dream of going back to these times. I do not. 

My problem with Beaver Cleaver is that, bottom line, it does not matter one bit if you are a "good person" if you do not know the Lord. It does not matter if you walk the line, obey the rules of society, and show up in church on Sunday if you have no relationship that has turned you from sin and death to Life. There is no redeeming quality in sinners pretending to be holy. None. Does it make our world an easier place to live in if everyone plays nicely? I suppose. But it harms Christianity. It takes our focus off the real problem by making us feel more comfortable. We can pretend that our friends and neighbors are not on their way to eternity in hell. We can overlook the darkness of death in someone's heart and instead see their lack of public sin and think all is well. 

The older I get the more I realize that sin does not bother me the same way it does some of the older generations. I do not expect a godless society to act godly. I am not offended by tattoos, foul language, and sinful lifestyles. Honestly, I am more offended by Christians who live as hypocrites than I am of the worst sinner sinning.  Am I bothered by sin? Of course! But, I am more bothered by the heart behind the sin. I am more concerned with the fact that a person is on their way to spending an eternity without God than I am at the fact that they are openly sinning. Sinners sin. It's what they do. Gone are the days of Beaver Cleaver when heathens act like Christians. I say good riddance! The last thing this world needs is people pretending to be Christians. What this world does need, however, is a strong Christian community who does not just stand against sin, but who are broken by the fate of the lost and who mourn over their lack of redemption. Sin is not our enemy. Sin is a reflection of a heart without the Lord. Our Enemy is the one actively seeking to destroy mankind by standing between them and Hope. Our goal as Christians is not to create an environment on this planet that makes life easy for us. Our goal as Christians is to surrender our lives to the Lord, be prepared to endure hardships, and share the Message of the Gospel to the lost. We are not trying to preserve a way of life, we are trying to save lives.

I have sat on this concept for years. Each time I have heard a pastor, or church member, say that the "church is a hospital" I have cringed on the inside. I cringe because of the falsehood of the statement. I cringe because it is not a sentiment whispered in private, but rather a promotional slogan put on billboards. There is pride in the statement, a confidence of truth, and the expectation that people will stand and applaud at its brilliance. People say this phrase assuming that non-believers will storm the doors of the church because they are attracted to the idea that they can come broken and find a safe place to recover. My friends... non-believers are not sick. They are dead. Believers are called to put on armor and move mountains. They are not called to put on a hospital gown and stay hooked to an IV. The church is not a hospital.

I believe the idea of the church as a hospital started years ago with the "seeker" movement. Maybe it started before then, but this is when I became aware of the changing church. The idea behind the "seeker" movement, in my humble opinion, is to make sure the Sunday morning service appeals to non-believers. How many times have you heard a pastor tell you that it's your job, as the laity, to invite your unsaved friends to church? If you do your job and bring these people to Sunday morning church, the pastor will do his job and create an environment that makes them feel safe and welcome. This way, your unsaved friends will come back week after week and eventually get saved. People should get saved within the four walls of the church, apparently. The result of this mindset is that believers hand over the job of true witnessing (inviting someone to church is not the same as sharing the Gospel of Christ)  to church staff, and the church staff substitutes milk for steak at the Sunday morning meal.  This is not the concept of church that I read about in Scripture. In reality, the church is not for the non-believer.

The Church is made of people who have given their lives to Jesus Christ. Christ is the Head of the Church. The local church is the gathering of these believers, under the leadership of the pastor and elders. The pastor is the shepherd of the flock. His role is to teach, encourage, and build up believers so they will live out Christ centered lives. According to Matthew 28 believers are to go and make disciples. All believers. Disciples. The terminology is "go" to them not "bring" them to the pastor. Unfortunately, the church has become  a "perfect place for imperfect people" and the result has been devastating. Oh sure, the church still has full pews. And yes, churches are "relevant" and "cool" and people enjoy going to the show every Sunday. But where is the impact of all these church goers in our city? In our state? In this country? Where are they during the week? Are they changing the lives of those around them, or just waiting to be spoon fed the next Sunday?

These thoughts may sound harsh. The reality is that I'm not sure they are harsh enough. For too long the church has coddled young believers. Some of these "young believers" have been walking with Christ for 10, 20, or 50 years. Yet, because they walk into a "hospital" each week they are not progressing. Is this every church? No. Are all believers immature? Absolutely not. But are a majority of churches failing to teach the Truth of the Word? Yes. Do I also fail in my walk with the Lord? Every day. I too often settle for what is easy instead of allowing the Word of God to stretch me and get me out of my comfort zone. 

So, why am I writing this blog? To encourage believers to start wearing armor and moving mountains. To encourage pastors to boldly preach the Word of God to believers and to equip these believers to fulfill the Great Commission. To encourage churches to stop calling themselves hospitals. Let's show non-believers the Light, not a gurney. Of course, these are only my perceptions, as I'm only passing through...

I have tried to write a post about my cancer journey many times. Each time I end up hitting delete. I am never satisfied with how the journey looks on paper. I am never confident that anyone wants, or needs, to read about the details. Maybe it’s still too fresh, or maybe it’s just too stale. I don’t know. The only reason I am writing about it at all today is because I have hit a big milestone in the world of cancer – 10 years of being cancer free.

Ten years ago today I had a minor surgery (called a lumpectomy) to remove a small tumor. In a matter of minutes I went from having breast cancer to not having breast cancer. Of course, that was just the beginning. Chemo and radiation followed in the months to come. The journey had ups and downs, highs and lows, joy and pain. Some memories are good, some are not. However, I have come to the conclusion over the last 10 years that the details are not nearly as important as the lessons. The one for today – sometimes you get cancer.

I love hearing stories about people who are cured miraculously from disease. God can, and does, work powerfully in that way often. But, sometimes you get cancer. And guess what? God still works powerfully in the midst of disease! God’s power does not depend on your health. He is not more powerful if you are sick, or if you are not. He just is. Our circumstances change around the constant that is His power. When God does not change the medical chart to reflect good news, it’s ok. Not easy, not preferable, not fun… but ok.

So here I am, 10 years after my cancer diagnosis. I survived. It is not lost on me that so many other young women who also battled cancer are not around to write these words. Honestly, I hated cancer. I still do. I may never fully understand why cancer came into my life, but it honestly does not really matter. It did. God was not mean, He was not absent, He was not un-loving. He was gracious. Gracious. Bad things happen in this life. Our hope is not that things will get better, but that He will be with us. And He is… He was.

I’ve been curious to know what emotion I would experience today on this anniversary. Surprisingly, it is peace. I am looking back not at how hard life was 10 years ago. Instead, I am being reminded of God’s faithfulness, mercy, and grace. I am remembering the many family members and friends who walked with me through the hardest times. My husband was, and still is, everything I could have asked for in a companion. I am blessed. I was blessed 10 years ago, too. For you see, sometimes you get cancer. But, it’s going to be ok since we are only passing through…

This morning I watched video clips from the terrorist attacks that occurred 13 years ago today. All of my emotions from that day came to the surface - fear, disbelief, confusion, sadness. Like most people, I remember vividly the events of that otherwise beautiful Tuesday morning. I remember not understanding why there was only one Twin Tower on my TV screen. I remember watching the second tower fall. I remember my husband saying that we had just witnessed thousands of people dying. I remember that the circus was coming in town that morning by way of the train located outside our window in our downtown apartment. I watched in a fog as elephants, camels, horses, llamas, and other assorted animals walked down Riverside Drive as they got off the train. My brain could not reconcile the fun of circus animals walking down my street and the horror going on in my nation. 

In one of the videos I watched this morning from September 11, 2001 a firefighter was being interviewed right after one of the Twin Towers fell. He was covered in sot, out of breath, and clearly in shock. The reporter asked him how he managed to get out alive. His answer was "I just went towards the light." I just went towards the light. In the middle of death and destruction, I went towards the light. When darkness surrounded me and all hope seemed lost, I went towards the light.

Yes, the firefighter was talking about a physical light, but can you see how easy it is to turn this sentiment into a spiritual lesson?  However, be careful that you know exactly what, and Who, is this light. The Light is not just good feelings, good intentions, or basic goodness. The Light is not a passionate belief in a god watching out for you. The Light is not the love of friends and family. There is but one Light in this world. He has a name. He is the only hope for which we can go, the only salvation from which to be saved, and the only giver of meaning in this world. There is no comparison or equal. When fear takes over, when doubt starts to grow, when trouble comes your way... go towards the Light. I must remind myself daily of this truth. One day I will meet this Light face to face, but until then I'm only passing through... 

I keep hearing people talk about how *insert current hot topic* is being "shoved down our throats". Someone watches an award's show and gets mad that immorality is being shoved down their throat. A movie goer gets offended that a string of curse words were being shoved down their throat during the movie. People look at the current line-up of shows on network TV and see a non-biblical agenda begin shoved down their throat. Here's my advice... shut your mouth! I do NOT mean to stop talking about issues and standing up for what is right. Instead, I'm referring to the control you have over what is shoved down your throat. This is not a passive action to which you are a victim. It is a choice.

Scripture speaks many times of the need to guard the heart, take thoughts captive, and be on the alert. The Bible also makes it clear that salvation brings victory over death, destruction, and the things of this world. We are not at the will and mercy of things that are against our beliefs. We do not walk around this earth as weak and powerless individuals. The only way to have something shoved down your throat is to have your mouth open. 

In this world of changing and shifting morality it is vital that we as Believers know what we believe, why we believe it, and have the courage to stand firm in the midst of opposition. We need to learn when to stand with our mouths closed to protect what is being offered as true what we know to be false. You wouldn't go into a pig pen and get mad at the pigs for getting your shoes dirty. You're on their turf. It's who they are and what they do. If you choose to go into the pen at least wear boots. In the same way, be aware of the culture around you. Don't walk blindly into this world, be prepared. You are in charge of what goes into your mind and heart, not someone else. You may have no choice but to be around actions and words that you find offensive, but you do have a choice to guard yourself spiritually. So again I say, shut your mouth! Of course, this is only my opinion and I'm only passing through...

Copyright © Rachel D. Butler and Only Passing Through. All Rights Reserved.

About a month ago my family, along with so many other families, went to a Christmas Eve service at church. And, like most of these services, the night ended with us singing Silent Night. It is always such a magical moment. The lights of the church were turned out and the only glow in the room was from the lit candles. So peaceful. So calm. Everyone sang the song in reverence to the moment as we pondered the birth of our Lord. All focus was on the meaning of Christianity, on the gift of God's Son to redeem humanity. We put aside all else and remembered why we have the gift of eternal life. Before I arrived I was hustling and bustling throughout my day preparing for the hustle and bustle of the next day's activities. But for that moment... silent night. 

One of my goals this year is to end each day with a silent night. No, I won't be showing up to church, turing out the lights, and lighting a candle. Instead, my hope is to put my head on my pillow each night and savor the gift of Jesus. The day may be busy, the next day even busier, but I can still have that moment. So many of my nights end with my mind in chaos. My goal is usually to do whatever I can to ignore the multitude of thoughts swirling around and try to tune out the noise. Then I fall to sleep. But this year, as I stood singing Silent Night, I was amazed at how much peace my heart felt over something so simple. A simple moment of a silenced mind. 

Silent night, Holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin , mother and child
Holy infant so, tender and mild
Sleep in heavenly peace,
Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night, Holy night
Shepherds quake, at the sight
Glories stream from heaven above
Heavenly, hosts sing Hallelujah.
Christ the Savior is born,
Christ the Savior is born.

Silent night, Holy night
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord at thy birth
Jesus, Lord at thy birth.

In my lifetime I have seen the deaths of several horrible men: Saddam Hussein, Osama bin Laden, Kim Jong Il, and others. Each time someone known for that type of evil dies I hear people talk about how glad they are that these men are now getting what they deserve - hell. That sentiment makes me cringe and feel immense sadness. All I think when I hear that comment is that I, too, deserve hell. But for the grace of God my path would lead to hell also. I am a sinner saved by grace through faith in Jesus Christ, not of my own works, but by His. Who am I to condemn someone to an eternity without God and rejoice in their overwhelming suffering? I picture myself doing that by peaking out from behind Jesus and yelling “nah nah nah nah nah” at someone like a child would do to another child. The audacity! You might argue that people like those I mentioned cause so much suffering on earth that the punishment is justifiable. And it is. But we deserve that same punishment as well. All of us are born dead in our sins. How many sins we commit or how horrible they are is irrelevant. None of us deserve heaven. It is a gift. 

I’m not sure why this is on my mind today. I suppose thinking of the upcoming Christmas season has me thinking about Jesus’ time on earth and what it represents. I am grateful for His saving grace in my life. I grieve at the thought of someone not knowing Him. Wether in regards to Adolf Hitler or your sweet grandmother, hell is a real place for those who do not know the Lord. I pray that I have (or take) more opportunities to share the hope of salvation to people. I pray that I remember the grace that has been shown to me and never step out of humility when thinking of another person’s eternal path. May I continue to pray for the salvation of those around me. It is by grace that I walk this life… even if I’m only passing through... 

Copyright © Rachel D. Butler and Only Passing Through. All Rights Reserved.

When I was a kid I loved the idea of the seesaw. It always looked like so much fun on the playground. Two people sit down on a long wooden plank that is balanced in the middle, then push themselves up and down. They could not both be up, or down, at the same time. Pretty simple idea and great fun for kids. However, the idea of the seesaw crept into my spiritual life a few years ago. It’s a dangerous game to play in the spiritual realm. Here’s why…

Has the Lord ever asked you to set boundaries with a friend or family member? Have you ever felt led to actually sever a relationship with someone? Or, has the Lord called you to a new way of living that would greatly affect someone you love? If so, you may have felt tempted to delay obedience because you were worried about the other person and how they would react. I have seen this play out many times in dating relationships. A girl feels led to break off the relationship but does not because she fears that the guy will suffer. She believes that she must disobey the Lord and stay in the relationship because the guy needs her. She honestly believes she is doing the right thing because she is selflessly thinking of another person before herself. Of course, most of us would disagree with her assessment. She is living in a spiritual seesaw, believing that her obedience to the Lord will cause true damage to someone else. Since the Lord won’t act as Lord to the other person, she must personally make sure they are taken care of the right way. I cringe as I type this because I have had this thought in my own life. 

The root cause of this spiritual seesaw is lack of trust. I don’t trust the Lord to do the right thing. I don’t trust that He loves me, and the other person, equally. He must need my help since He obviously hasn’t thought this through properly. I trust in myself more than I do the Lord. I refuse obedience because trusting Him completely is too hard. I want to be in control of the outcome for the other person involved. Let me say that again… I want to be in control of the outcome for the other person. In reality, I am standing in the way of the Lord working in that person’s life. So now, not only have I hindered someone else but I am also hindering my own spiritual life through disobedience. But, in my mind it’s ok because we are now equal on the seesaw. How dangerous.

Getting rid of the spiritual seesaw in your life will bring freedom. Release yourself from trying to be god for someone else. Get out of the way and let other people encounter the Lord without you trying to be the moderator. Instead, walk in true obedience. Make the hard choices. Trust the Lord. Lead by example. Leave the playground that is full of toys the enemy has set out for you. I’m seeking to do this in my own life as I pass through…

"Trust in the LORD with all your heart And do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him, 
And He will make your paths straight. Do not be wise in your own eyes ; Fear the LORD and turn away from evil. 
It will be healing to your body And refreshment to your bones." Proverbs 3:5-8


Copyright © Rachel D. Butler and Only Passing Through. All Rights Reserved.
New American Standard Bible Copyright © 1960, 1962, 1968, 1971, 1972, 1973, 1975, 1977, 1995 by The Lockman Foundation, La Habra, California.  All rights reserved.

Nine years ago I stood motionless during worship at church. It was September 12, 2004. The worship leader was singing the song Agnus Dei. It's a fairly simple song with few words. I had heard it a million times before, but today was different. The worship leader kept repeating the line "worthy is the Lamb" over and over. I'm sure it wasn't for too long, but in my mind it went on for 30 minutes. During that time the Lord was speaking to my heart as I was listening to the lyrics being repeated. He said, "If all I ever did for you was die on the cross, is that enough?". Of course, I quickly responded in my mind that it was enough. But He didn't let it go that easily. He kept asking. And asking. And asking. That's why I was standing motionless that day. I had to honestly answer that question before I could go forward with my life. It's as if the worship leader knew that he, too, must stay and wait in this moment as well. My mind was filled with all the things that I thought I needed, and wanted. Could I really say that Christ's death on the cross was all I truly needed in life? It seemed as though the question was less about material processions and more about how I viewed God. Would He still be good if all He provided was eternal life through the death of His Son? If everything He did after that moment seemed like suffering would His provision of life be enough? I had to answer this question. Did I really believe that He was enough? Finally, I answered yes. It was as though I was accepting something being handed to me, though I had no idea what. Although I didn't fully comprehend what the Lord was doing in that moment, I knew it was important that I start this process of seeing Him as enough. Two days later, I found out I had cancer.

So often I fear that something bad may happen. I get nervous, feel the fear take over, and start worrying. In those moments I prepare myself for something horrible and assume that God is about to throw down the hammer on me. But He doesn't work that way. Instead, He prepares us for suffering through His gentleness. I wasn't afraid that day, nine years ago. I was empowered with new faith and courage. It was as though the Lord opened a door to a room I had never entered before. He was with me. Beside me. Taking care of me. That's what He did before allowing me to hear bad news. Of course, hearing that I had cancer brought me to my knees as my entire world began to spin around me. Yet, the anchor of truth He gave me two days before held me firm. Yes, it was hard and difficult. Yes, I had bad days filled with doubt and fear. Yes, I was sick and tired and miserable some days. And yes, I learned that His provision of life truly was enough. It was. It is. 

It can be so hard to remember that God owes me nothing. I do not deserve nice things, an easy life, or freedom from pain. Gratefulness is not a word I should offer to the Lord each morning in a prayer. It is an attitude that should permeate my entire lifestyle. This life is temporary. Suffering happens. But, if He chooses to only give eternal life that's a greater gift than I'll ever deserve. I have seen over and over that He gives wonderful gifts each and every day, though. He blesses beyond my comprehension. He's a good God. I'm trying to remember this truth as I pass through...

Copyright © Rachel D. Butler and Only Passing Through. All Rights Reserved.

There are roughly 7 billion people on planet Earth. This may sound like a lot of people until you put it into perspective. In our galaxy alone there could potentially be over 500 million other planets that might be able to sustain life.  Just in the Milky Way! In addition, there are possibly billions of other galaxies in the universe. Billions. So, if there are billions of galaxies that could each possibly have millions of planets that could each have billions of life forms... that's a lot of potential people! When I think of how many people there could be it makes me think 7 billion is not a huge number. We are a small planet in a small galaxy, compared to the rest of the universe. As far as we know we are the only human life in existence. Just us. A tiny grain of sand at the ocean. For some reason, God created a system that holds about 7 billion people at a time on one planet. Have you ever stopped to ponder why? If you are the creator of all and you can do more, why not? 

I think one of the answers to this question is restraint. I'm not claiming to understand the mind of God here, just making one observation. He could have done more, but He didn't. He came to a point of satisfaction and stopped. We know this from Genesis 1. He didn't continue to tinker and rearrange for the next few weeks after creation. He stopped. I believe we see this type of restraint all throughout the Bible. Jesus showed restraint when he turned over the tables of the money changers in the temple, as recorded in Matthew 21. I used to struggle with His actions here and wonder how He could have done such a thing. But now, I'm amazed He didn't do more! He could have blinked His eyes and wiped out the entire city. But He didn't. Each time the disciples asked Him the same questions over and over and over He could have instantly made them mute so He wouldn't have to listen. But He didn't. He could snap a bone in my body each time I sin. But He doesn't. He is a fiercely loving and jealous God who can do anything at any time. But He is tender enough to have restraint. 

This concept of restraint hit me the other day when I was upset with someone. I wanted to lash out and release all of my anger towards them. I came close. Later that day I felt the Lord speak to me about self-control. He reminded me that He, too, shows self-control. He restrains Himself because of His great love for humanity. Of course, it's not hard for Him like it is for me. Even in His correcting of my wrong actions He was gentle and restrained. Such a powerful reminder that just because I can do something, doesn't mean I should. Self-control is more than me just keeping my mouth shut and stewing in silence. It is about recognizing that I follow the Creator of the universe, not the other way around. It's about being led by His example and replacing my will with His. As I marvel at His greatness displayed in the vastness of creation I will listen anew for His still, small voice. I will seek to show restraint whenever possible. Of course, these are only my observations, as I'm only passing through. 

Copyright © Rachel D. Butler and Only Passing Through. All Rights Reserved.

A while back I went into my hall closet to grab some extra napkins. The bag was already opened so I just quickly grabbed a handful and went back into the kitchen. As I was putting the napkins into the napkin holder a roach... yes, a roach... crawled out. Since we do not live in the suburbs, finding insects is fairly common. However, roaches are in a different category. I despise them. I feel personally offended when they get into my house. Anyway, this one time, I found this one roach in my napkins. One time. A year ago. But, can you guess what I now do each and every time I replace the napkins? That's right. I look to make sure there are no roaches hiding between them. Thankfully, there has never been another roach in my napkins. But, because of that one time, I look every time!

One time I was worried about my future, but God was faithful. The next time, I worried again. But God was faithful. And then, I worried yet again! But, to my surprise, God was faithful. I wish my story sounded more like this: one time when I was a little girl I got scared during a thunderstorm. However, God comforted me that night. Ever since then, because of that one time He was there for me, I have never doubted again. But, no. Sadly, I routinely doubt and struggle in my faith. A single roach can change the course of my life, but not God. Ridiculous, but true. 

I was reminded of one of the verses from the old hymn, Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing, and identify with the author:

So prone to wander. So quick to forget. Yet, He is always faithful! Amazing. My life reflects so many stories of the Lord's faithfulness to me and those I love. Why in the world do I put more expectation on a roach than I do on the Lord Almighty? Why do I remember the effects of a tiny roach more than I do the last time I saw the hand of God in my life? The good news is that now each time I grab a napkin I am reminded of this struggle in my life. The Lord is even faithful enough to use roaches and napkins to teach me life lessons. Today, when you reach for a napkin be reminded of the Lord's work in you over the course of your life. If you see a roach... just step on him. Or, simply chuckle at how the Lord can use such a small thing to show his power. Of course, these are only my thoughts, as I'm only passing through.

I’m convinced that every preacher who has ever lived has taught that faith is like sitting in an empty chair and expecting it to hold your weight. I personally have heard this taught many times and even based my theology of faith on this principle – faith is the invisible support that holds up the chair when I sit down. Simple. Easy to understand, easy to teach. Common knowledge that even a child could understand. So, why did my faith almost come crashing down around me when my world was turned upside down? Why was faith suddenly something foreign and unbelievable when life threw me a curve ball? Why did I so quickly doubt? Because, my friend, faith is not the invisible support that holds up a chair. I was taught half of a truth, therefore had false faith.

The Bible says faith is “the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen”, according to Hebrews 11:1. Using a chair as an example works for most people. You see the chair, with its four legs, but you have to trust that it will hold you up. This thought process includes a little bit of God, and a little bit of me. It doesn't give God full control, which we usually like. Because you see, you could rely on logic, or physics, or any number of reasoning skills to see that the chair will hold you when you sit. You can even test the chair before sitting down, if you choose. You have that option. I mean, why not test "faith" first to make sure it's real (and sturdy)? But, for some reason, people like to spiritualize the chair’s remarkable ability to provide support, and remind you that you rely on faith every time you take a seat. This is not what scripture teaches! Faith is the conviction of things not seen, not the logical conclusion to what’s right before your eyes. Faith is not always something you can test before you buy. Here’s what I believe faith to be:

You walk into an empty room. No chairs. Then, you hear the still, small voice of the Lord asking you to sit down. You ask, “Where?” He points to an empty space and says, “Right here, in this chair.” This is faith. At this moment you have to believe in something you cannot see. You cannot make logical assumptions based on what is before you. Physics will not help you in this moment. Reasoning skills will not come to your aide. You must, in this moment, rely solely on faith that the Lord will hold you up when you sit. Faith is not the empty chair in front of you, it’s believing there is an empty chair in front of you when you do not see one.

When you find yourself in a hopeless situation and all you have left is a still, small voice in an empty room – rely on faith. When the Lord asks you to believe something that looks impossible – rely on faith. Stepping out into this type of faith is scary and hard at first. We are so used to having something tangible connected to faith. Maybe it’s the testimony of someone else’s difficult situation. Maybe it’s the kind word of a stranger, a random check in the mail, or a Bible verse on a sign. God does use these things! But there may come a time when you find yourself alone in the dark. You may find yourself without the comfort of confirmations from others. You may find yourself needing true faith.

How do you define “faith”? What does it look like in your life? Are you ready to sit in a chair that you can’t see? Of course, these are only my observations… and I’m only passing through.

Copyright © Rachel D. Butler and Only Passing Through. All Rights Reserved.

Why blog? Honestly, I didn't feel like I had a choice. My husband, Kiley, practically held my hands to the keyboard so I would start this blog. I'll choose to think he believes in me and wants me to have an outlet for my thoughts, and not that he is overwhelmed with my constant ramblings. Either way, here I am. 

As an introverted melancholy I constantly have conversations with myself in my mind. I feel deeply within, but express outwardly very lightly. I have found that putting words on paper helps me form my thoughts into more cohesive ideas. Sometimes, it helps me determine exactly what I think and feel about an issue. I see this played out with David's writings in the Psalms. The longer you write the better focus and perspective you can find. One of the ways in which I write is through poetry. My poems are usually very private and personal, but I may, over time, share a few. In fact, I'll start today!

The name of my blog is actually taken from one of the poems I wrote a while back. We all go through difficult times and feel as though we are walking through the valley of the shadow of death. This poem expressed my belief that times of sorrow/mourning/struggle/pain are purposeful beyond our understanding. And, like this earthly life, we are only passing through...

Passin’ Through

Passin’ through the valley
I’m not staying long
The road’s not meant for comfort
Nor merriment or song

The path is worn and set
From years of use and tread
It pulls you down to push you up
So onward now I head

Shadows grow and mingle ‘bout
The air is heavy with strain
Nothing grows outside my soul
Death owns this domain

Despair is mocking every step
Yet cowers when I kneel
Fear steps in to take control
The danger now is real

Words of taunting sneer aloud
I’m wet from dripping distain
The goal is not to offer hope
But over me to reign

My aim is not to pitch a tent
Nor set up shop or home
Eyes set straight to look ahead
I will not veer or roam

Darkness thickens with each step
The will to move starts waning
Remember I must to Whom I’m tethered
He knows and sees my straining

Rescue me not from this expanse
‘Tis a journey I must complete
Harm won’t last and pain will cease
Unless I choose to now retreat

Onward and forward, keep movin’ on
Your arms I must pursue
Temporary struggle but lasting gain
Cause I’m only passin’ through
by Rachel D. Butler