Cast Your Burden

“Cast your burden on the Lord,
And He shall sustain you;
He shall never permit the righteous to be moved.”
Psalm 55:22

David wrote this Psalm in light of friends who had turned on him. His heart was “severely pained” and he wanted to fly away and escape (vs. 4-8).

Are you in a time of pain and hardship? Are you facing struggles with relationships, or another hard trial? Maybe you wish you could escape it and be removed from the challenges.

Amidst your hardship, cry out to the Lord as David did. Cast your burdens upon the Lord - tell Him your struggles, ask Him for help and comfort. Receive His help and comfort by reading His Word.

Our God is so merciful and understanding. He is kinder than we are, more gentle and longsuffering than we are. He has exactly what we need, when we need it.

“No good thing will He withhold from those who walk uprightly” (Psalm 84:11b).

First, may I point out - we are to be right before Him. Ask Him to expose sins, and then repent quickly. Be done with the sin and move on with His forgiveness.

Second - what you have, He has deemed good. What you don’t have, He has also deemed good. The struggle you are facing? It is for your good. “And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28). If you love Him, every season of life is for your good and His glory. Trust this promise with childlike faith; trust it simply.

Third - ask. Ask, and let Him guide you with what to ask. Sometimes we know we need to come before Him in prayer but we don’t know what to say. Go anyway, dear friend. He will not turn you away. In humility, be liberal in your asking of Him. In time He will turn your focus exactly where it needs to be, and you will see His lovingkindness toward you.

“How precious is Your lovingkindness, O God! Therefore the children of men put their trust under the shadow of Your wings” (Psalm 36:7).

Calming Fear With Faith

Both of our children have incredible imaginations. They dream up the most fascinating adventures. My daughter plays out her days with her own never-ending stories. However, when the night comes, her imagination can sometimes get the best of her. 

In the dark hours, I awake to her cries. Half asleep, I tumble into her room. 

I grumble “What’s wrong?”

“I’m scared.” 

I take a breath. Her fear lacks logic. The night light shines bright. The lullabies play softly. Her brother breathes heavily in the bed beside her. She’s safe. 

“There’s a lion in my room.” 

I soften my tone, reminding myself how real the lions feel to her. “You’re safe.”

I assure her the lions are far, far away. I remind her of the truth, that Jesus is with her. He keeps her safe and secure. Her little heart calms, slowly, and her mind allows her to fall into rest once again. 

Fear, at any age, can be a tricky thing. It causes us to not see clearly. Rather than seeing what’s right in front of us, anxiety plagues us about what could happen. Downtrodden in ‘what if,’ we find it impossible to find rest. Like my daughter, in the trenches of the night, we forget the simple comfort that Jesus is with us. 

We can take comfort in that Jesus’s own disciples struggled with this as well. In Matthew 8, we see the disciples spiral as they forget who lies beside them. As you may remember, the story begins with the disciples following Jesus into a boat. They go out to sea, Jesus falls asleep, a storm comes, the disciples give way to fear. In desperation, the disciples call out to Jesus in verse 25, “Save us, Lord; we are perishing.” They know, then, that Jesus can indeed save them from this trial. Jesus responds, seemingly like I do with my 3 year old in the night—tired, frustrated. “Why are you afraid, O you of little faith?” 

All of chapter eight up until this point is filled with miracles. Healing after healing, the disciples saw Jesus accomplish the impossible. They had followed Jesus at all cost up until this point, but they still do not know Jesus’ true identity. If they had faith in Jesus as their Savior, they wouldn’t have been overcome by the storm in front of them. They trusted what their eyes showed them—a storm growing so powerful that it could take their lives. And yet, Jesus was right there. The Son of Man was right there in that boat. They had nothing to fear. And that was what Jesus meant. Remember who I am. I’m the one who has come to save you. I’ve come to rescue you from sin and death. The storms and waves cannot take this away. You surely won’t perish. Have faith. 

My daughter won’t always fear the lion under the bed. Her fears, like mine, will change with the seasons. While anxiety might manifest differently as we age, its influence remains the same. Fear causes us to not see clearly. When we succumb to the storms we face, we put our trust in fear instead of the One who’s already rescued us from it all.

As His disciples continued to draw near to Him, Jesus patiently taught them what a life of truth faith looked like. As we draw near to Jesus by spending time in prayer and in His word, our earthly fears fade away. We fix our hearts on the Truth. This gentle, merciful Maker of the Universe, who simultaneously defeated death and made a way for us to call Him friend. 

There are many times I am tricked by my worries, just as my daughter was tricked in the night. I find myself weak in faith like the disciples. I fix my eyes on my worries, rather than fixing my eyes on the One who calms the waves and the wind with only a word. And yet, He answers us gently. He reminds us we are safe. There’s nothing to fear. He gives us the strength and grace we need to depend on Him as we walk through the storms that come our way. We can then breathe deep and rest easy in Christ. 

Written by Rachel Rowe. Rachel is a wife to Caleb and mama to Adalyn, Oliver, and Eliza. When she’s not at home, you might find her teaching Bible Study, gathering for Book Club, or sipping lattes at a local coffee shop. Through it all, she’s learning to let the Word of Christ dwell in her heart—and finding out what that looks like in the everyday moments. Follow along on Instagram @thedwellblog

From Fear to Peace: Three Truths to Fight Fear

I sat in my car as monsoon rains poured down on our little island in the East China Sea, while my husband was on the other side of the world, preaching at his mother’s funeral. 

A few years prior, ALS (also known as Lou Gehrig’s Disease) set in, ravaging her young and vibrant body. 

I realized that the memorial service was just underway. Anguish forced its way up my throat and out, in body-shaking sobs. 

Fear and anxiety accompanied my grief. My mother in law’s life was ended not just by ALS, but actually by FALS—Familial ALS. Her father was also taken by it nine years prior. When she was diagnosed, we had the crushing realization that my husband has a 50% chance of having FALS. And if he does, then so do our children.

Currently, there is no treatment, cure, or prevention for ALS. Victims are captive to their bodies, which deteriorate while their minds stay healthy. After three to five years, they die from being unable to breathe or swallow. 

I didn’t just weep for the loss of my sweet mother-in-law, or for the sadness that my husband bore without me. I wept over the “what-ifs”. And I begged the Lord to not let them be so. 

From Grief to Fear

Five years later, the anxiety that arrived the day of her death still threatens to take hold. I can easily spiral into a frenzy of “what-ifs”. 

Grasping for reassurance, I’ve read the scientific research and the stories of other FALS-affected families. I’ve put my kids and husband through diets and regimens in hopes of staving off what can feel inevitable. I’ve wrung my hands and rechecked statistics. We even briefly considered genetic testing. 

Yet deep down I know what Christians need to do when they are afraid. We need to rest in the Lord himself. More than prevention, more than science, more than our best efforts—in the face of what could be, we need a peace that surpasses understanding (Philippians 4:7). And we need a renewing of our mind (Romans 12:2). Both are ours by God’s Spirit if we only seek him and ask. 

The Word of God and the Spirit of God stand ready to equip and empower believers in the battle against fear. Both are living and active. The Holy Spirit resides in us, giving us the strength and grace to fight our fears afresh each day. He also reminds us of truth when we wander into fear (John 14:26), helping us to wield the Word of God, our offensive weapon (Ephesians 6:17). 

From Fear to Peace: Three Truths to Fight Fear

I want to share with you three biblical truths God’s Spirit arms me with when I’m tempted to be afraid.

1. My life is not my own.

You are not your own, for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body. (1 Corinthians 6:20)

When I surrendered to the Lord as a freshman in college, these words changed my whole perspective. I awakened to the reality that my life, my body, and my future did not actually belong to me. The Lord created me, and ransomed me with his precious blood; therefore, I belong to him and live for him (1 Peter 1:18-19).

In the years since then, Paul’s words inspired by God’s Spirit have sunk deeper into my soul: “For by him all things were created…through him and for him” (Colossians 1:16). My very existence is by God, through God, and for God. I am not untethered, required to conjure up my own meaning, purpose, and future. The Lord has already done that.

For the Lord is the one 

who made the world and everything in it… he himself gives to all mankind life and breath and everything. And he made from one man every nation of mankind…having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him. (Acts 17:24-27)

God himself determined when and where I would live. The Lord set me here in this very family with these genes, so that I may seek him and perhaps feel my way toward him and find him (Acts 17:27). 

May the the things that cause us to fear lead us to seek the Lord and find him.

2. God will never leave me nor forsake me.

“I will never leave you nor forsake you.” (Hebrews 13:5)

The fact that God promised this gives me tremendous courage. My kids and I have memorized Psalm 46. Together we rehearse that “God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble” (v.10, emphasis added). I know him who walks with me—that his character is good and trustworthy and sovereign.

And I know what he has already done for me in Christ: He was forsaken on my behalf, hung on a cross in my place, endured wrath from the Father for me. Because we know him and we trust these promises from him, we can face any future. 

Triumph in God’s promise to never leave or forsake you:

For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)

3. Even if…yet I will rejoice in the Lord.

Finally, I find rest from fear in the words of Habakkuk: 

Though the fig tree should not blossom, nor fruit be on the vines, the produce of the olive fail and the fields yield no food, the flock be cut off from the fold and there be no herd in the stalls, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will take joy in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength… (Habakkuk 3:17-19)  

Even if this dreaded disease visits us again—even if I am forced to walk through this particular valley of the shadow of death, I will rejoice in the Lord. 

We can rejoice precisely because he is the God of our salvation, because he has already given himself over to us. More than the gifts he gives, Jesus, the Giver, is our gift. Nothing—not sickness, not suffering, not loss—can separate us from this gift. 

Behold, All Things Will Be Made New

When I think back on that sad day, when my grief returns and fear threatens to well up within me, God’s Spirit reminds me that my life is not my own, that God will never leave me nor forsake me, and that even if the worst comes, I will be able to take joy in the God of my salvation. 

He is also the God who says, “Behold I am making all things new” (Revelation 21:5). God promises to those who have faith in Jesus Christ that, 

“He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God. He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” (Revelation 21:3-4)

One day soon, and then forever, ALS will be no more. Whatever you may fear—school shootings, car accidents, separation from loved ones, the loss of a child, extended suffering at the end of life—it will not remain. Perfect love will cast it all out. You and I will be with our Lord, and scary diagnoses and suffering will be no more.

Written by Jen Oshman. This article originally appeared here, at Unlocking the Bible. Shared with permission.

When You Feel Like A Less-Than Mother

“Lara, I think you’ve lost some weight.”

My mother-in-law’s words were a stake in my heart, though I know they were never meant to be. I finished zipping my jacket over my tiny baby bump. “Really? Maybe it’s just this jacket making it look that way,” I lied.  

She verbalized the fear I had pushed away all week. I’m not gaining the weight I’m supposed to.

Nine weeks into pregnancy, morning sickness came. Though I had not thrown up yet, each morning I was greeted with nausea that stayed with me all day. For most, this would be considered easy—at least you aren’t throwing up everything you try to eat. But for me, the mere thought of vomiting was crippling.

My fears of throwing up are what started my life-long journey of anxiety. After my first experience with the flu as a young girl, the thought of vomiting gave me a visceral reaction.  I would collapse into panic attacks—crying, screaming, sweating, shaking—anytime my stomach began to get that gurgling feeling. This fear became so strong that at times I refused to eat at all so I wouldn’t have something in my stomach to throw up.

The car ride with my mother-in-law was quiet as I nibbled a saltine. This is not what I pictured pregnancy to be like. Pregnancy was supposed to be exciting, full of pleasant surprises and sweet kicks in my belly. Instead, mine was filled with misery—reminders of the anxiety I had yet to conquer 15 years later as a grown woman. I felt like a weak child again, helpless to a fear that still held me in its grips.

God, why can’t I be free from this, even still? I prayed to myself, wondering and questioning with each silent plea: If I can’t conquer this anxiety, am I really ready for motherhood? How will I raise a courageous child, who can trust God in the unknown, meanwhile I still fight against this anxiety?

Momma, are you afraid that you don’t have it “together enough” to be a mom? Do you already feel like a failure when you see the put-together moms around you? Do you look at their perfectly still children sitting in the pews and feel like giving up?

Aside from my fears of throwing up, I have many other reasons to feel like a failure compared to my fellow mom friends. But God is giving me a new hope in him, and teaching me to stop looking around at others and start looking at him.

The Joy-Robbing Comparisons

It is a gift to be in a church with fellow mothers who love God and desire to raise their children according to his Word. It’s a joy to come alongside of them and to learn from their years of mothering, both by discussion and simply watching. We see in Titus 2 that this is God’s good intentions for the women in the body of Christ—that the older women would disciple and teach the younger.

“Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.” (Titus 2:3-5 ESV).

Sadly, we have the tendency to turn that joyful gift into despairing heartache by comparing rather than learning. Rather than looking up to these women, we begin to despise and envy them in our hearts because we do not measure up. We compare our children, our words, our methods, and our choices to see whether we did better or worse. This creates for competition rather than fellowship, and exhausted sadness rather than joy.

This is what our sinful hearts are inclined to do. But we must train them according to God’s Word. Rather than giving way to despairing comparison, we should strive to learn from one another as God intended, and encourage one another in Christ. It’s not a competition but a relay race of passing the baton to the next generation, cheering on those who are still running, and learning from those who have years of training under their belts.

The Only Life-Giving Comparison

There is only one we should be comparing ourselves to in every aspect of our journey: Christ. Comparing ourselves to other women can lead to pride. But when we compare ourselves to Christ, we see ourselves rightly: An imperfect sinner who can never measure up. We realize that no matter how hard we strive, we will never meet his standard of perfection. Maybe with enough striving we could come close to matching our friends, but we will never match Christ in his blamelessness.

Instead of despair, this comparison should bring us joy as we remember the gospel. Christ died for imperfect people. He died for moms who would yell at their children, who would become annoyed with their chatter, and who would make poor choices. He died for sinful women like us. And he rose again, paving the way for us to rise to new life with him. He lived, died, and rose in perfection because we could not. And though we are totally undeserving of it, he accredits his righteousness to our account, as if we lived it.

When we trust in Jesus’ work on the cross and repent of our sins, he renews our hearts and give us the Holy Spirit so that we can obey him. Our new desire is not to strive to look like that put-together mom in the pew in front of us, but to look like Christ in order to glorify him.

If you are stuck in the game of comparison among the women in your church, remember the gospel. Preach this to your heart. Begin comparing yourself to Christ. In every aspect of your parenting, your goal is not to look like your friends, but to look like Christ. To lead your child gently as Christ leads the church. To teach them to repent of their sins and turn to Christ. This is your goal, momma.

The Sweet Tension

I stared out the window of the car, watching the evergreens pass by.

There was a sweetness to this tension of still struggling with my anxiety even now as a soon-to-be mom. As much as I hated the fear and wanted to be free from it, it was a constant reminder that I will never be a perfect mom. There’s no “getting it together” before baby comes. I am a weak and sinful human being who will always struggle, and so will my sweet baby. In those times of weakness, my baby doesn’t need a put-together-mom. My baby will need Jesus. And in spite of my own limitations and how much carrying a baby has reminded me of them, my anxiety has also been the reminder that in all my imperfections, I can point my baby to the Perfect Saviour.

Originally written for Strength & Song by Lara d’Entremont.