Robin Gilbert Luftig's Blog

Another great post from Lori Roeleveld. If you haven’t checked out her blogs or books, check her out. I trust her insight, count her as a source of wisdom, but above all, call her my friend.

Is anxiety a sin?

This was the simple question our panel was asked and instantly, I felt, well, anxious.

I smiled, of course, as if I wasn���t also scrambling about in my mind, muttering like an old hoarder searching through stacks of ancient newspapers for an article he read back in the eighties.

Others responded quickly, definitivly with assurances.�� No, of course anxiety isn���t a sin.

I agree that there is anxiety that isn���t sin. Anxiety is like fear. The Bible says do not fear, do not be anxious, but we have all experienced these emotions that come unbidden, like mental reflexes. I don���t think God is telling us that when a car crosses the median and is headed straight for us, or when the letter arrives inviting us back for a second scan of that lump, or when the unexpected expense comes when they���ve just cut back our overtime, that we���re sinning if we feel fear or anxiety.

There is also a diagnosable condition of clinical anxiety. This may be triggered by trauma, abuse, brain chemistry, or a host of other sources out of the individual���s current control. This anxiety needs treatment, compassion, persistent truth, and loving care, not condemnation from people who represent Jesus.

Now, when we so willfully sin, we put ourselves in tension with our beliefs about God or we express our rebellion against our Creator and this may result in anxiety. The answer here is to turn from the sin to address the resulting anxiety. So, there is an anxiety that stems from sin.

However,��there is an anxiety with which we all wrestle and giving in to it rather than trusting God is a choice we make��� a choice that either moves us closer to Him or further away.

I don���t think God wants His followers walking around worried about all the things.��I think that because He says that.��

���Therefore I tell you,��do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them.��Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? ��And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you,��even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you,��O you of little faith?Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ���What shall we eat?��� or ���What shall we drink?��� or ���What shall we wear?��� For��the Gentiles seek after all these things, and��your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. ��But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you��� (Matthew 7:25-34 ESV).

Answering the question of anxiety requires digging in��� to our understanding of God, to our understanding of sin, to compassion for our humanity and the humanity of others, and to our responsibility for our own responses.

If my husband snuck up from behind and startled me, it���s understandable that I would jump, pull away, and experience a moment of fear. If, however, I then kept myself in a constant state of alert, anxious that he might sneak��up at any time and startle me again��� well, then I have a different problem.

We live in an anxious age where anxiety disorders are common. Volumes of theories and remedies for worry, anxiety, panic, and other nervous conditions abound. No one wants to point fingers, hurt feelings, escalate anxiety for individuals who want nothing more than to be people of peace and calm.�� Somewhere between reflexive panic and clinical anxiety stemming from brain chemistry is the question of personal responsibility about how you and I handle the thoughts that impact our nervous systems and our emotions.��

Lori Roeleveld

I know because I���ve wrestled with this particular Leviathan. The list of items about which I���ve worried would exhaust the word count of this blog post. I invent fears and concerns.��Concerns is a great word, isn���t it? Christians throw this word concern around our prayer meetings to avoid admitting to worry or anxiety. I���m not anxious about tomorrow but I am certainly concerned about that PET scan.

One action that has never been effective at helping me address my anxiety is for someone to tell me to RELAX! My family knows that���s the last thing anyone should every say to me. Ever. Growing up, that word was frequently yelled at me, most often by the very people causing my anxiety in the first place!

I can���t see Jesus yelling for His mother or the apostles to just relax.

So, God understands our design, knows we come equipped with emotional responses and internal warning lights that were His idea in the first place, and appreciates they may be out of whack because we live in a fallen world. And yet, He doesn���t hesitate to tell His followers to override our natural responses and assume a posture of trust in Him. To believe Him when He says He will care for us, He will provide.

The message of Scripture is clear. God wants His people to trust Him, to live free of anxiety and worry about the future, not because we���re terrible people if we experience anxious thoughts but because Jesus died to provide us that freedom. We now can live free and God wants us to enjoy that.

We weren���t designed for sin and it���s not only destructive to us, it is a move away from God when what we desire is to be close to Him. As we live close to God and make ourselves available to the Holy Spirit, He transforms us, heals us, and increases our ability to experience freedom. People who love Jesus have nothing to fear, not even from remnant sin, because He has paid for our sins, and there���s now no condemnation when we experience them.

Knowing that, it���s easier to hear what God is saying.

When God says ���do not be anxious,��� my first reaction is to be anxious about being anxious and then go into a full-on panic.��As I sat on that panel, however, the Lord brought a different picture to mind.

Imagine you���re at the third-floor window of a burning building. (Now you���re feeling anxious, aren���t you?).�� A firefighter appears standing at the top of a long ladder. You can���t even see the truck to which the ladder is attached. When the firefighter gestures for you to step through the window onto the ladder, you recoil into the smoky room. That���s anxiety. That���s fear.

The firefighter speaks to you calmly, without judgment, but firmly, ���Listen to me and do what I say. You���re in great danger and you must come towards me, out onto the ladder. I know you���re afraid but you must choose to be brave and come towards me.���

Choose to be brave.

Choose to trust me over your anxious thoughts.

Step away from the danger and towards me. I���ve got you.

Can you hear that that is what Jesus was saying when He told the crowds, ���Do not be anxious about your life.���?��

The firefighter knows it���s not normal to exit a building through a third floor window. He knows it���s not normal to step out onto a three-story ladder in the dark of night. He also knows it���s the only way to save your life.

Your Father knows it���s not normal not to worry about the things you need or the dangers in this world. He knows it���s not normal to trust the provision and protection of a God we cannot see. He also knows it���s the only way to save our lives from the prison of our own fears.

You Can Choose

Choose to be brave.

Choose to be at peace.

Choose to trust the firefighter more than your anxious thoughts.

Choose to trust Jesus more than you trust your worried mind.

There���s no condemnation in Jesus. He���s forgiven all your sins. You are free to release your reliance on them and, instead, step out with trust in Him.

It���s not about striving to be better or healed or perfect for Him, it���s about living in His healing light.

That doesn���t mean you won���t sometimes need help. Help from strategies, loved ones, professionals, medication. Help from Scripture, prayer, worshipping and serving with others. We all need help. That���s why He placed us in a great family of believers.

But we can be free. We can live in peace. Jesus is the Way.

So, the real question isn���t��� is anxiety a sin? The real question is��� is there a way to be free of it? Yes.

Jesus can transform us into the people we need to be, people at peace even in the face of an anxious world.

Have a question for Lori? I know she’d love to hear from you. Drop her a note at https://loriroeleveld.com/contact/

The post Is Anxiety a Sin appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Autumn is my favorite season for several reasons. Mostly because it was my dad’s favorite, too. Not only was his birthday in September, but Hunting Season started then. He said he never remembered the correct date for his birthday��because it always came in the middle of hunting season, and he was more excited about that.

So I became excited about hunting, too.

On those magical autumn mornings, we’d get up early and enter the woods before the squirrels started looking for their breakfast. We’d walk as quietly as we could, though acorns continually crunched under our feet. Twigs snagged our pants. Trouncing through the ground cover, the crisp morning air would wrap around my face. My boots would get soaked from the dew. Dad would lead us to a spot���a perfect spot���where we would wait for the squirrels.

That’s how it went���every time. Every magical and perfect time.

No talking. Hunters don’t talk. Instead, we bonded over milk-coffee (mostly milk in my case) and snack crackers or the occasional piece of candy. After all, hunters needed to keep up their strength up as they watched and waited for a good shot.

Thoughts of squirrel hunting came to mind as I walked from the car and to my appointment today. On the way in, I stepped on fallen acorns and listened to the crunch of them under my feet. I stopped for a moment and looked up into the oaks that stood around me���and waited.

No talking. Hunters don’t talk.

After a moment, a squirrel scampered down a nearby tree and chattered. Had I disturbed his sleep? Was it the sound of the cracking acorns that made him holler at me? Standing there, I felt the crisp air wrap around my face and felt the dew cover my open-toed shoes.

In that moment memories of a simpler time flooded my mind. Thoughts about early morning adventures with my dad. When I thought I would always be his sidekick and he would always be my hero.

But Life took different turns … for both of us.

I sighed, wiped a tear from my eye, and continued my trek onward. Reaching for the door, I paused for one last moment and listened to the sounds of Autumn. After all these years the sounds were the same. And for a moment, I remembered why Autumn was my favorite season of them all.

Parents, take time to enjoy your children. You’ll make memories for them that will last long after you’re gone. And children (even grown children) give your folks a hug. Ask about their day. Let them know you appreciate them. They won’t be around forever.

There is a special time for everything. There is a time for everything that happens under heaven.
Ecclesiastes��3:1

Can a woman on the run find herself again?

Ladies of the Fire��brought us to the late 1960s as we met the newly-widowed Lily-Rose Pembrick reeling as she fled Lincoln, Nebraska, with her children. Only taking the cash from the house safe and what she could get her hands on at the family bank, she left the recently-inherited and successful Pembrick Transportation company behind.��Exhausted from driving all night, she stopped in Applegate, Ohio, and decided to start a new life on Norwood Street. There, she met Fiona Kasey, an African-American no-nonsense housekeeper/companion to an elderly white woman, and Sugar Bowersox, a Southern spitfire who has lost herself in motherhood.

Together, they enjoyed Lily-Rose���s backyard fire pit, where dreams were spoken and secrets revealed. As they embraced a kinship they never would have sought, Lily-Rose began thinking her past could finally be laid to rest���until someone ended up dead.

The post My Favorite Season appeared first on Robin Luftig.

This week I celebrate my dad���s birthday without him here. Sadly, he died almost fifty years ago. He’d be ninety-seven years young now. That’s something difficult to think about. My dad … an old man.

He would have had the privilege to celebrate with his children, grandchildren and even great grandchildren. There would have been cake, I���m certain of that. Even though he never liked anyone fussing over him, he would have appreciated the gesture. Maybe he and I would have made it together, just like the old days.

He helped me made my first cake���a yellow box cake with chocolate frosting. When we had finished, the frosting was in globs and the dessert sat lopsided on the plate, but he told me it was a work of art.

And I believed him.

I���m certain if we were celebrating his birthday this week, the conversation would have gotten around to hunting. My brothers and I would remind him that he took us all hunting when we were old enough.

I can hear him now, saying he didn���t hunt much after we grew up and left home. He���d say it wasn���t the same.

I���d remind him how he taught me gun safety rules from the time I was little. He taught all of us not to ever point a gun at anyone because terrible things could happen–there would be no turning back from a gun mishap.

I believed him about that, too.

That���s why this week is so terribly sad. When Dad was at a low point in his life ��� when he felt there was no going forward ��� when he felt there was more bad than good ��� he chose suicide over life.

I had spent my early life believing his every word. He was my world and I was his best gal. Then, after one act, his words–all his words–rang hollow. It took years for me to separate, pull apart his different messages, to know what I could hold close and what I had to throw away.

I believed him on so many topics, but this one thing���this last thing���I chose not to believe. It took many years of making my own mistakes and trying to control all the bad around me to realize he was wrong. Instead, I chose and still choose, to rely on my other father, my Heavenly Father.

My Heavenly Father tells me a different story. For example, he says:

… ���I will never fail you. I will never abandon you.���
Hebrews 13:5

“… Here on earth you will have many trials and sorrows. But take heart,
because I have overcome the world.���
John 16:33

Remember my story

If you ever get so depressed that you think there���s no hope, remember my story.

Today there is no cake for me. Instead, I have the memory of receiving the phone call telling me how I lost my dad. I have carried heartache, confusion and misdirected guilt for years.

I thank God for His love for me. He helps me carry those memories.

And He can help you carry your pain, too.

If you���re in a dark place, hang in there. Accept love from healthy people around you and offer them love in return. And give your dark, painful situation one more day before you do something that can���t be undone.

Remember my story.

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post Remember My Story appeared first on Robin Luftig.

A week or so ago our 16-year-old son walked in the door with his chest puffed out in frustration. His ���Ugh!��� reverberated through the house. It was around 10:00 pm. He had been to the youth group mid-week get together and Chick-fila with all his buddies. I knew he was stressed about the homework he still had to finish before his day was done.

���I would have been home 15 minutes ago if I hadn���t taken a short cut.��� He leaned over the back of the couch and showed the map on his phone giving me the full rundown of his journey.��Apparently, he had been moving right along until he was stuck behind trucks with oversized loads. To get around those obstacles, he turned down an unfamiliar road.

���The road was super sketch and ended up being a dead end. I had to go all the way back around.��� Add in a ���bruh,��� some grunts, groans, and a few heavy sighs, and you have a literal audio version of how the conversation went.

His��shortcut��took twice as long.

A Great Lesson

The truth of his experience hit me hard. I looked at him. ���Sometimes we���re like that with God, too, huh?���

His response was a teenage boy���s eye roll, side grin, and slang-ridden phrase that basically meant he saw the metaphor, too. How often do I attempt to short cut God? Often, this life journey is painfully slow, exhausting, and sometimes painful. Maybe it���s a relationship that experiences years of conflict. Or a promotion that never happens. Or a season of illness or financial stress. Or maybe it���s waiting for book deals, platform growth, or publishing success? When we are forced to sit back and attempt patience while watching others fly by in the fast lane, frustration builds. This frustration can make room for panic to set in. In that panic, we allow doubt to cloud our trust in God.

Maybe this isn���t the road God put me on? Maybe there���s a turn I missed? Surely it shouldn���t take this long?

When we look for an easier way or a way around the slow and waiting, it���s an indication we���ve stopped trusting in the One who placed us on our road.

Maybe this isn���t the road God put me on? Maybe there���s a turn I missed? Surely it shouldn���t take this long?

Thinking we know better, we veer off. We take the shortcut.

Occasionally the shortcut may work. But the irony is that the results of the quick and easy are often dead ends and longer travel times.

Attempting to move to the fast lane can also keep us from lessons God has for us right where we are.��When we rush to our destination, we risk arriving before it���s ready. When writers circumvent God and rush the publication process, the audience that needs our voice may not even be there to hear it. We live in a word that moves faster each day. The fear of being left behind can be overwhelming.

But may I offer some encouragement?

Whether you���re in the fast lane, on a country road, stuck in a traffic jam, or going the speed limit,��if you���ve been obedient, you���re exactly where God wants you to be.

While it may not be fun and impatience may eat at the edges of your emotions, know that you are on your road for a reason. And any other route? I promise it would be worse in the long run.

As we move into the last months of 2026, pray with me. Pray we refuse to take the shortcuts. Pray we say no to the dangling carrots in our hurry to��arrive. Pray we trust our Jesus enough to know He has placed us on our individual journeys for His great purposes.

And now, I think I���ll turn my praise music up, roll my windows down, and settle in for His ride���no matter how long it takes.

Praising Him in the Slow Lane,
Heather Iseminger

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post No Shortcuts appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Twenty-five years ago, my children were younger and life was much easier. I was thinner and thought I had all the answers I ever needed.

And God was in control.

But on that sunny Tuesday morning, devastation visited America–the likes we had never experienced before. My world was rocked, and I don’t mind saying, rocked to its core.

And, I imagine yours was as well.

While I struggled to get my head around what had happened, I watched the news. And if you did as well, you could have seen two different stories.

My heart ached as I watched in horror the news and saw all the happenings in New York, Washington, DC, and Shanksville, Pennsylvania. How could this be? Why was this happening? We were supposed to be the Good Guys. Why would people want to destroy us?

Then I saw plans of action. Firefighters, standing between lanes of traffic holding empty boots for drivers to toss donations into. A quarter, a dollar. Anything to help their fallen brothers. And I watched as people turned to God for strength.

I’m older and wiser (heavier, too) than I was twenty-five years ago. I still feel the pain this country experienced that sunny day when, out of nowhere, almost 3,000 people died in New York, Washington, DC, and Shanksville, Pennsylvania. The only answer I have is found in a relationship with Christ.

Please, don’t hear that as a trite answer.

God knew what was happening then just as He knows what is happening today. And he wants to bring peace to a broken world.

He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Revelation 21:4

As we remember that day in September twenty-five years ago, remember Jesus died for us and wants to dry our tears and heal our hearts.

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post Twenty-Five Years Ago appeared first on Robin Luftig.

If you don’t know about Global Partners in Peace and Development, I encourage you to take a look at them. Their attention is in so many ministries–local as well as foreign.

And now Jonathan Grooms, Executive Director and Matt Riggins, Director of International Development, are using podcasts to take their message to others. Here’s a short podcast talk about breaking free from worldly Fear of Missing Out (FOMO) and embracing the life Christ has called us to live.

Ever feel like you’re missing out … because you’re following Jesus?

The world makes it look like everyone else is having more fun, finding more success, and living a fuller life. But what if the greatest thing you’ll ever miss out on is God’s purpose because you’re too busy chasing the world’s promises?

Ever feel like you’re missing out … because you’re following Jesus?

Listening to Global Talk Podcast is a powerful way to get to know about this ministry. ��Global Talk is the official podcast of Global Partners ��� conversations about mission, cross-cultural experiences, the Go Center, and what God is doing around the world. Tune in for updates, stories, and insights from the Global Partners community. They can also be found on:

Spotify

Apple Podcasts

The Global Partners team is making a difference, one ministry at a time. If you want to learn more about them, check out gpartners.org.��If you want to talk to them, reach out at info@gpartners.org.

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post Fear Of Missing Out appeared first on Robin Luftig.

I’m a country girl at heart. I grew up in a town of thirty-three people (not a typo) and didn’t appreciate all my blessings until I grew, moved away, and had children of my own. One of my favorite memories of growing up was spending time with my best pal–my dad doing what he loved most–hunting.

Autumn was his favorite season. It had nothing to do with his birthday (late September), but it was the beginning of different hunting seasons. From as early as I can remember, he’d include me–at least once a year–on a squirrel hunting excursion.

On those magical autumn mornings, we’d get up early and enter the woods before the squirrels started looking for their breakfast. We’d walk as quietly as we could, trouncing through ground cover, twigs snagging our pants, and acorns crunching under our feet. The crisp morning air wrapped around my face. My boots soaked from dew. Dad lead us to a spot���a perfect spot���where we would wait for the squirrels.

Every time

That’s how it went���every time. Every magical and perfect time.

No talking. Hunters don’t talk. Instead, we’d quietly bond over coffee (milk-coffee for me) and single-packed snack pies or the occasional piece of candy. After all, hunters needed to keep up their strength up as they watched and waited for a good shot.

Thoughts of squirrel hunting came to mind as I took my morning walk along the shore of the Susquehanna River. I stepped on fallen acorns and listened to the crunch of them under my feet. I stopped for a moment and looked up into the oaks that stood around me���and waited. After a moment, a squirrel scampered down a nearby tree and chattered. Had I disturbed his sleep? Was it the sound of the cracking acorns that made him holler at me? Standing there, I felt the crisp air wrap around my face and felt the dew cover my open-toed shoes.

In that moment memories��of a��simpler time��flooded my mind. I thought about early morning adventures with my dad. When I thought I would always be his sidekick and he would always be my hero.

But Life took different turns … for both of us.

Back to reality

I sighed, wiped a tear from my eye, and continued home. When I reached the door, I paused for one last moment and listened to the sounds of Autumn. After all these years the sounds were the same. And for a moment, I remembered spending time with Dad and why Autumn was my favorite season of them all.

Parents, take time to enjoy your children. You’ll make memories for them that will last long after you’re gone. And children (even grown children) give your folks a hug. Ask about their day. Let them know you appreciate them. They won’t be around forever.

There is a special time for everything. There is a time for everything that happens under heaven. Ecclesiastes 3:1

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post Spending Time With Dad appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Time may seem like it stands still until you look back over the years. You may think preparing for school is challenging now, but try … oh, please try … to embrace each day. When I look back over different times in my life, this is what I found.

The cool air stirred and long sun rays of morning greeted us as we walked the long driveway to meet an unknown world. It took everything in me to stop from crying.

“Today will be a great day!” I said, with too much pep in my voice. I wanted to make sure I told him all he needed to know for this special morning. “You’ll meet new people and it’ll be terrific!”

We continued to walk, hand in hand as we always had in the past. He stopped, looked up into my eyes, and with a sober voice, “It is a great day, right, Mommy?”

Little Sis skipped along singing Great day, It’s gonna be a great day … She had no idea my heart was breaking. How could she know? I was losing my firstborn into an Unknown World.

Soon the bus pulled up and stopped, throwing open its doors. Big Brother climbed oversized steps and entered the bowels of the yellow-orange bus that would take him away. I watched from the driveway as he settled in for the ride. The top of his head was all I could see as the bus wheezed, jerked a bit, and then drove away.

Tears streaked my face as I walked home. Once inside, Little Sis and I filled our morning with lots of nothing special, passing the time until Big Brother returned. When we caught a glimpse of the returning big yellow-orange bus, we ran out to greet him. Once in the driveway we smothered him with hugs and kisses. Big Brother walked differently on the way home–a bit taller, his shoulders, a bit straighter. He had faced the giant called Kindigar’n and had stories to tell!

I survived the first day of school.

Once again, the three of us walked down the long driveway. As before, I did everything I could not cry. This time, Big Brother held Little Sis’s hand as we strolled along.

“Today’s a great day!” Big Brother told his sister. “I did this last year. You’ll be great.”

It was Little Sis’s turn to square her shoulders when the yellow-orange bus pulled up. Without a look back, she marched up the huge steps just as Big Brother had prepared her to do. She trusted him. They were together and would be fine.

I walk to the house … alone this time. All morning, I walked from one room to another, trying to fill the emptiness with some pretense of purpose.

Finally, the yellow-orange bus pulled to our stop. Big Brother and Little Sis came bounding down the steps. My arms ached just a bit for the babies who had grown up so quickly. But I’d made it. I survived my second first day of school.

August 1995

My baby … Youngest Boy … and I sat on the front steps of our new home and waited for the yellow-orange bus. Youngest Boy’s older siblings were already arguing about getting the best seats on the bus. But Youngest Boy and I stayed apart, getting a sense of what was in store for each of us.

“Today’s a great day,” I bumped his shoulder with mine, hoping my peaceful demeanor would give him confidence.

“Really Mommy, a great day?”

“One of the greatest ever!” I hugged Youngest Boy close.

Too soon the yellow-orange bus stopped in front of the house and my three gifts from God rambled up the steps, with Youngest Boy needing assistance. Tears flowed once again as I watched the bus round the corner and drive out of sight. I sighed, went back into the house, and drank my coffee.

I had survived my last first day of school.

“Today’s a great day,” I bumped his shoulder with mine, hoping my peaceful demeanor would give him confidence.”

Driving to work this morning, I watched from my car as mommies walked their young ones to the different bus stops along my route. I saw them wipe tears away as they did their best to ready their precious babies to meet their own Unknown World. I reflected on my own firsts. Then it hit me: Today I am facing the first day in twenty-nine years when I don’t have a child experiencing some kind of school.

The days of elementary, middle, high school, or college–have left me behind.

For a fleeting moment, I longed for just one more shopping trip to pick out the perfect backpack, the most awesome outfits, or the most confusing calculator.

It doesn’t seem all that long ago that I watched a big yellow beast carry my sweet ones into a new season of their lives. I can still see the top of Big Brother’s head through the bus window, the squared shoulders of Little Sis as she marched into her future, and the tenderness of Youngest Boy as he struggled with mastering the bus steps.

They have met their Unknown World and survived …

And I did, too.

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens
Ecclesiastics 3:1

Do you feel like you don’t matter? Are you happy … or are you doing what you never thought you’d do? Do you see consistencies … or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I’d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book, God’s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my Book page.

Reposted from August 22, 2012. 

The post It Was a Vapor appeared first on Robin Luftig.

I felt the clamminess of my palms as I rang her doorbell. She and I had been friends years ago, but the choices I had made years earlier had separated us. Would she entertain rekindling a relationship with me again once I offered to make amends? I had no idea the amend wouldn’t go well.

It was important that I tell her sorry for doing the things I had done���that I hoped she could forgive me for all my foolishness and sinful behavior. I wanted to tell her that I now realized I hadn���t taken into consideration how my actions affected others. That I now realized I had made a real mess of things���my life.

I wanted to tell her there was good news! That I had learned from my mistakes. I had turned the corner. I had repented–changed direction–and wanted to tell her I was sorry. That I was on the way to becoming the person God intended me to be. I had hoped she���d be happy for me. I thought she���d celebrate a Prodigal Daughter finding her way back home.

That���s what I thought. But I was wrong.
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When she opened the door, I watched as her eyes, first vailed with unrecognition, gave over to remembrance. Then came the frozen smile. The smile reserved for those we’ve been taught to have pity for and hold at arm’s length. The smile you reserve for someone you do not want to know.

Her lips smiled while her eyes shot daggers at me. She stepped outside, not letting me into her house.

���Hi, it���s been a long time? How are you?��� I asked, trying to warm the coolness between us.

���Good. Good.��� Then with a polite, hushed voice, ���You look good.���

I asked about her family. Her brothers and sisters. Her children and husband. I knew them all. Even laughed over dinner with each one of them. I had tucked her children to bed at night. We had been like sisters. Once.

���Good, good. We���re all good here.���

���I came to tell you I���m sorry on how I made a mess of things years ago. I did things that set into motion consequences I didn���t understand. And I know I hurt you. Can you forgive me? I���d like to make things right between us again. Could you see your way to giving me a second chance?���

There it was. I had exposed my emotional underbelly. I felt my chest tightening. Every fiber in me wanted to hear that she was willing to let me try and earn her trust back.

That���s when it happened: she blinked then looked down.

���Don���t be silly, we���re good. I���m sorry, but I have ��� something to do. I have to go.���

I reached for her arm. ���Maybe we can have coffee sometime?��� I needed time to follow-up, tell her about how I had changed. I had given my life to Christ and was a new creature. I wanted to see her give a I’ve-missed-you-and-am-glad-you’re-in-my-life smile.

���Oh, I don���t know,��� she purred.��� My days are pretty full. But it was good to see you. Yeah, it was ��� good. Take care of yourself. I���ll give you a call sometime.���

With that, she backed into her house, closed and locked the door behind her.

Sometimes situations don���t go as planned. You follow your script. Offered repentance���true repentance���and even ask for suggestions on how to re-build trust. You open up. You become vulnerable and transparent. And the door still closes in your face.

You experience invisibility���when you���re told things are good, but clearly they aren���t. Painful���yes. Not what you expect���yes. All lost … absolutely not!

Forgiveness is just as much for the person forgiving as for the person forgiven, and so are the effects of making amends. You may walk up to a door as I did and suffer the same shame and heartbreak, but the amend did not go unnoticed.

Forgiveness is just as much for the person forgiving as for the person forgiven, and so are the effects of making amends.

Apostle Paul tells us how to live like Christ designed in Romans 12:18, ���If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.��� As far as it depends on you. Those words carry power and freedom.

We cannot change the past, no matter how hard we try. God won’t even do that. You may get shut out of prior relationships you were in because of choices you had made, but please remember, once repented, ��those sins were covered by Jesus��� blood when he died for our sins.

But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all wickedness.
1 John 1:9

When I walked up to that door, my audience included Christ Jesus himself. He saw me. He felt my conviction and broken spirit when I offered to make the relationship right again. And He witnessed that my making amends wasn���t enough for my old friend. She was within her rights to not welcome my attempt to fix things.

But it was enough for Him.

When making amends doesn���t seem to be enough, focus on whose opinion counts the most. Focus on Christ. And if you do not know Christ, oh, friend, please ask to know him right now. Your heart will forever be changed.

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

The post When Amends Don’t End Well appeared first on Robin Luftig.

Jesus paid it all,
All to Him I owe;
Sin had left a crimson stain,
He washed it white as snow.

Chorus, Jesus Paid It All, Elvina M. Hall, 1865 ��

When I woke up this morning, the chorus of Jesus Paid It All was ringing in my ears. I must admit my first thought was, Huh? But okay, I���ve learned that when God starts being all chatty so early in the morning, he has lots to say and wants my attention immediately. So I went with it.

Standing in the shower I start singing the words. Okay, I thought, that���s powerful. But I���m still waking up here, Father. I get it, I get it.

I moved onto devotions. Surely, I���ll get into some deep meaning in scripture. My reading is Romans 5:8 ��� ���But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.���

But God showed his great love for us by sending Christ to die for us while we were still sinners.
Romans 5:8 NLT

I closed my Bible and sat back. No, I hadn’t realized it all. I wasn’t comprehending the significance of my morning. I needed to ponder, really reach into what I was hearing.

Then it hit me. I can do all I want that���s good ��� I can talk the Christian talk ��� I can act like I know what Life���s all about. But bottom line, if it wasn���t for Jesus��� willingness to take what I deserve and offer me grace instead of judgment, it���d all be for nothing.

Nada. Zero.

I know it isn���t cool to talk about messy things like ���blood��� and ���judgment���, but that is the bottom line. I owe all my peace, sleep-filled nights, and tender heart to my Savior. Without his willingness to give himself as he did, I���d still be the pathetic wacko I started out as so many years earlier.�� But now I have another option; Grace.

My day���s been filled with whistling a catchy tune today. Yes, Jesus DID pay it all. And I will forever be grateful. I’m so glad he woke me up the way he did.

Do you feel like you don���t matter? Are you happy ��� or are you doing what you never thought you���d do? Do you see consistencies ��� or are you all over the place? Drop me a line. I���d love to chat.

Struggling to find good in your life? Check out my award-winning book,��God���s Best During Your Worst, or check out any of my other books on my��Book��page.

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