Treasure In Earthen Vessels

Discovering the Indwelling Holy Spirit

Anxiety and Depression ~ What Can I Do About It? May 17, 2018

After anxiety and depression moved into my life following a recent surgery, I was alarmed and disappointed. Within days of noticing my disagreeableness and unpredictable tears, I explained to my husband what I thought was going on.

 

“This isn’t me. I don’t like how I feel, what I think, and what I say. I expect it is some form of depression.” I told him, hoping to ease the guilt for my less-than-normal behavior.

 

A trip to my doctor confirmed my fears. I had thought it was caused by a hormone imbalance, but the doctor said no. It was a normal occurrence that happens as we grow older and our brains produce less serotonin than our bodies need. I didn’t do anything to cause the irritableness—it was just naturally happening to me.

 

Some days I was depressed and cried all day. I would take a comment out of context and then brood for hours over things I imagined were true. A television commercial about depression suddenly rang true to me: for a depressed personeverything hurts. I was hurt by those around me, and in turn, I was hurting those around me.

 

On other days I was downright disagreeable—about everything. Nothing suited me. Nothing made me happy to be where I was at the moment. I was certain that if things were just done differently, I would be content. Not so. I grew increasingly discontent with each passing day.

 

I became so unhappy with these strange feelings and emotions that I began to cry out to God for help—to lead me, guide me, and walk beside me.1 I knew that within me I didn’t have the strength to combat these monsters. I didn’t like myself, and I had become a person I didn’t want to be.

As God began to answer my prayer, He led me to passages of scripture I had memorized years before. Those scriptures, from the Book of Psalm2, became my mainstay. I printed them on sheets of paper so they’d be close at hand until I could quote them easily. Soon they were a balm to my restless soul.

 

When I laid my head down at night, I quoted scriptures. When I woke up in the morning, I quoted scriptures. The sick feeling in the pit of my stomach each morning made me dread the day ahead. One morning when the anxiety was painfully present, I again begged the Lord for help. His gentle words guided my heart toward hope that I could do something about it.

 

“Do what you can. You can fight back—with the armor I’ve given you and by depending deeply on Me. Fix what you can fix.”

 

Another woman did that—what she could. Mary poured her precious oil on Jesus’ head.3 When greedy men protested her carelessly act of love, Jesus defended her: “She has done what she could. She has come beforehand to anoint My body for burial.” Mary couldn’t keep Jesus from suffering at the hands of evil men. She couldn’t keep Him from being crucified for the sins of many. She couldn’t change one thing about the Father’s will for her Savior. But she could do one thing—what she could. Was it important that she do what she could? The sweet fragrance of her ointment would be with Jesus in the dreadful hours on that cross, and would remind Him of those He was dying for—those He came to rescue. It was indeed important.

 

Do what you can. I’d heard it before and knew what it meant. After losing a husband to cancer fifteen years ago, I had battled similar monsters—aloneness, abandonment, anger (and that’s just the ones that start with the letter “A”). The only way I had survived the months following his death was to fight back with the armor of God4 and to depend deeply on Him.

 

What I was facing today was simply another battle in the same war.

 

It was time for me to take action and fight back. When the enemy of my soul filled my mind with thoughts that were not true—what I now know were lies, lies, and more lies—I quoted scriptures that I knew were true. When I became discontent with the way my husband drove the car or cooked our food, I carefully guarded my mouth. I thought if Plan A doesn’t work, I’ll move to Plan B and duck-tape my mouth shut. Praise and worship became a part of my daily routine.

 

Over the next days and weeks the Lord walked beside me, taking me to numerous scriptures, thoughts, ideas, helps and quotes that combat anxiety and depression. These things are certainly not intended to replace prescribed medications for serious and chronic mental health problems, nor are they a cure-all for the many issues of our complicated lives.

 

As in Mary’s case, none of them may change anything about the bigger picture. But they are positive things we can do to remedy some of what troubles us—to help us do what we canI look forward to sharing them with you in the coming weeks. ~ Janie Kellogg

 

 

Hillsong, The Potter’s Hand Lyrics

Chapters: Psalm 1; Psalm 15; Psalm 23

3 Mark 14:8

Ephesians 6:10-18

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I Need More Sunshine ~ So They Say May 8, 2018

After a recent surgery, I was caught off guard by the aftermath that followed—mood swings, disagreeableness, and depression. Even I didn’t like me. I told my doctor in hopes that he would increase my hormone replacement medication. After all, they say that after a hysterectomy every woman deals with these same issues. Why had I thought I was exempt?

 

I was also caught off guard by my doctor’s response: “Not a hormone problem. You’re already taking twice the amount needed for a woman your age. Actually, you are experiencing anxiety. As you grow older, your brain doesn’t produce as much serotonin as you need, which results in anxiety and depression. The good news is that there are a lot of great medications out there to help with this condition.”

 

Grrrrrr….too many words woven in that I didn’t want to hear: A woman your age… growing older…body not working…medications…this condition. Just the thought of it is depressing.

 

As is my habit, I usually take a look at any natural means to treat whatever ails me. I know it will take some time to research, ask questions, and then decide if any of it might be a solution for me. Natural remedies work that way—they take time.

 

I found several good resources and was surprised to learn that some mild forms of anxiety can be relieved with diet, exercise, and sunshine! That’s right—good ole Vitamin D. Could it be that stepping outside and soaking up some of God’s natural light might help my personal anxiety issues? Might be worth a try!

 

As I think of the increasingly toxic culture we live in—cell phones glued to our ears, non-stop social media, 24-hour news, high-stress jobs, beat-the-band-activities, and the fast food syndrome—we are probably all in a heap of trouble. There’s little time or place for sunshine. Is it any wonder that research indicates anxiety is on the rise with 40 million Americans over the age of 18 affected by it?

 

And thanks to all the amazing new technology and media craze, we are now divided into many people groups. We’re afraid to comment about anything for fear someone close to us will be on the other side. We participate in the “Us and Them” mentality—on one issue we may be with the “Us’s” only to find ourselves with the “Them’s” on the next one. God help us!

 

Jesus said that He was the Light of the World, and oh how our world could use more Sonshine right now. If anyone can shed light into our dark places, surely it is Jesus. Could it be that stepping outside of our crazy-busy routines and soaking in the Savior’s presence might help our shared anxiety issues? This too might be worth a try.

 

Since they say I need more sunshine, I’m going to do my best to get it. Simple enough, don’t you think? It’s free for the taking, and God says I can have all I’m willing to absorb. Come to think of it—I think I’ll switch off the TV, disconnect from Facebook, silence the cell phone, grab an apple, and go for a walk. Just maybe I’ll manage to take in some sunshine and some Sonshine. This is definitely worth a try!

 

Hope you’ll make the time to do the same. Blessings to all ~ Janie Kellogg

 

What Revival Looks Like ~ May 4, 2018

Filed under: Christian Growth — Janie Kellogg @ 3:10 pm
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The man of God plows deep this week. Things buried beneath the surface far too long are turned upward, exposing them to the Light of the World. The Sun of Righteousness has work to do in His field.

There is a stirring—a breaking up of what is not in clear sight. Yielding to the sharpened plow, hidden things are disturbed and dislodged from their dark, comfortable places. With each subsequent pass the heart-soil is tilled over and over—pulverized until useful once more—and made ready for good seeds to sprout, grow up, and produce a harvest.

Somewhere in the process an exchange is made: uprooted feelings, grudges, mindsets, opinions, and prejudices are replaced with repentance, compassion, mercy, love for more than one’s own, and a gut-level desire to serve rather than to be served.

Seeds of hope are planted within that freshly cultivated ground—hope of being alive again and fit for the Master’s use.

Thank God for plowing His field. ~ Janie Kellogg

 

 

 

When There Are No Words April 12, 2018

[Dedicated to Drew Wright, a true soldier of the cross, who in his darkest moments and deepest sorrow gave glory to God.]

 

The saying “There are no words” grips my heart. I don’t use it lightly. To me it is an expression of deeper pain than the little inconveniences of life can bring. I did use it recently though, in the days following Christmas Day 2017. An event occurred that brought such deep wounding to my soul that there was nothing else to say.

 

By all accounts it seemed to be a normal Christmas for Susan and Bill Wright, friends of my family for over 30 years. Since they were expecting their first grandchild, it was sure to be a memorable one as well. What could be more joyous in this joy-filled time of the year than the anticipation of a new baby? Friends rejoiced with them as they waited and celebrated life at every stage.

 

Their son, Drew, and his beautiful wife, Shannon, were 32 weeks pregnant with Baby Asa James. He was already held tightly in their hearts, but it would be a little longer before they could hold him in their arms. Shannon’s parents had moved from another state to live closer to their first grandchild as well. The entire family was entirely prepared to welcome this special little guy into their lives.

 

Yet, three days after Christmas something went terribly wrong. There had been no way to prepare for the events that would unfold over the next five days. Drew’s first message on Facebook on December 29th stunned readers:

 

“Yesterday morning was the hardest day of my life. My best friend and bride, Shannon, passed from this life and entered heaven. We don’t know all the details, but Shannon became unresponsive and was transferred by ambulance to the hospital. She never regained consciousness, but gave birth by C-Section to Asa James Wright.”

 

The tragic news shocked family, friends, and members of the church where Drew serves as Student Pastor. As the story spread on social media, hundreds and perhaps thousands of Christians began to pray for the family and especially Baby Asa, as his tiny body clung to life. The next Facebook report was a request from Drew:

 

“Asa is the most beautiful thing and looks just like his momma. Asa is in critical condition and is being treated by doctors for his best chance at survival. I humbly but boldly ask that you would pray. Pray for Claudia and Todd as they lost their daughter, pray for Clayton and Lindsey as they lost their sibling. Pray for my family as Shannon was the daughter and sister they’ve always wanted. Pray for me. I am hurting and broken, but I know God is good. Lastly, pray for a miracle for Baby Asa. He needs our Big God to show up in a big way.”

 

During the next few days, friends and family surrounded Drew and his infant son with support, comfort and prayers. Because of the Internet, I was aware of what was happening to my friends. A picture of Baby Asa’s tiny body connected to high-tech medical devices with tubes and tape was difficult to take in; yet many prayer partners helped bear the burden of brokenness and grief.

 

More questions than answers filled our hearts as we continued to call upon God for a miracle. How could this be happening? How will this young man survive such sorrow? How can he declare that God is good in the midst of sheer heartbreak? Is there any purpose anywhere in this tragedy?

 

On December 31st, Drew’s closest friend and co-worker, Cody Brumley, spoke for many hurting souls:

 

“In the mighty wake of hurt, we do not seek God’s deliverance from it…we seek God’s presence in it. We run to God bleeding, broken, confused, in disbelief…because nowhere else can we be comforted, answered, loved, and pieced together.”

 

With each report the heart-wrenching pain grew worse. Another picture showed Drew’s youth group praying and calling out to God in behalf of their leader. A part of me wanted to pull away and know less about this tragedy, yet my efforts to protect myself were futile. We are a body—the body of Christ—and when a part of us hurts, the whole body hurts.

 

Later that same day, the family was told that the doctors had done all they could for Baby Asa and that they would begin to focus on an end-of-life plan. Once again, Drew informed his prayer partners:

 

“We still hope for a miracle, but are coming to grips that this may be God’s outcome. Specifically pray that Asa’s short life will have an ongoing ripple effect for the sake of the gospel and God’s goodness in the midst of tragedy.”

 

A picture surfaced on January 2nd that caused me to finally utter the phrase: There are no words. Drew held Asa close to his heart while others encircled him, laying their hands on his shoulders as he prayed and dedicated his baby son to God. He described those moments like this:

 

“Today we got to be together to celebrate and dedicate Asa James to the Lord and his story to the glory of God. Sometime in the near future he will most likely breathe his last breath, but in the midst of hurt and pain and questions and fear, I am filled with joy—joy unspeakable that has no words, but just is living in me. God, only you know the impact this young man’s story will have and we trust you with that. God, I trust in you through all of this. I know that Shannon is getting to be what she was designed and destined to be—to be a mom. And today I am thankful for that. Thank you to everyone for your prayers and continued prayers for me, my family, and this community. Pray that God will use this as only He can….”

 

Drew’s prayer reminds me of a prayer by another young man, who facing something so painful and indescribable, prayed “Nevertheless, not My will, but Thine be done.” Just like his Savior, Drew yielded to the Father’s greater plan. For it is there in the place of surrender, that true joy—the joy he spoke of—can be found.

 

The following day, January 3, 2018, Asa James Wright slipped away from us and entered heaven where he is held safe in the arms of Jesus and his adoring mom.

 

When the family announced that a memorial service for Shannon and Asa was to be held the following Saturday, my heart pondered how they would prepare for such an event. The sorrow seemed too deep—the wounds too raw. The faith of many, including my own, had been tested. Would the faith of many stand and not fail?

 

As I prayed for my friends about what the next few days held for them, the Holy Spirit took me on a journey down memory’s lane. You see, there had been a time in my own life when tragedy had robbed me and my family of a loved one. We too had felt the pain, the emptiness, and the confusion that comes when a loved one is snatched away too soon. In that moment I heard His gentle whisper:

 

“It was in those dark days when it felt like you were living in a dream and not knowing where you were or how you’d get through the next day or the next hour, when you needed a strength much greater than you own, that something supernatural showed up and carried you.”

 

Oh, how well I remember what my sweet Jesus had done for me in those dark days. For when there are no words, there is grace.

 

His grace had held me up. His grace had strengthened me. His grace had gotten me through that dark valley and carried me safely to the other side. I instantly knew that He would do it for my friends as well. And He’s likely done for you, too.

 

Jesus promises to comfort us in our sorrows, to heal our broken hearts, and to give us peace that passes understanding, if we will trust Him. His Word has never failed His followers and it never will. And so we trust. ~ Janie Kellogg

 

‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,

Just to take Him at His Word.

Just to know that He has promised,

Just to know “Thus saith the Lord.”

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust Him!

How I’ve proved Him o’er and o’er;

Jesus, Jesus, Precious Jesus,

Oh, for grace to trust Him more! ~ Louisa R. M. Stead

 

 

 

An Uncommon Easter March 30, 2018

The choir would be gathering later that evening to put the final touches on our Easter Cantata. I sought for some words of inspiration to share with them since technical issues had robbed our last practice of any spiritual connection whatsoever. We had worked hard for weeks and now Easter Sunday is only days away. How might we tap into the true message of Easter, rather than focusing on the mere performance that lies ahead of us?

 

During my morning quiet time, I read several devotionals that focused on Passion Week. Quite unexpectedly, the Holy Spirit dropped the word “uncommon” into my heart. I was reminded that us humans often become so familiar with people, things, and concepts that they lose their uniqueness—their wonder—and thus, their impact on us. I questioned if that is what we have perhaps done with the Easter story.

 

Has the story of Christ’s suffering become common place? Are we calloused to the brutal beating of our Savior’s back, or is it simply too gruesome for us to consider? Is that thorny crown just a part of the imagery, yet we miss the stinging pain inflicted by each single thorn pressed into His brow? And what about the mocking and ridicule He endured—are we oblivious to the agony of cutting words upon the heart? He bore that heavy cross with a weakened body, only to reach the most dreaded place of all—the hill on which He would shed every drop of His royal blood for the ungrateful lot of humankind. And in the worst of the worst moments—when even His Father couldn’t bear to look upon Him—He asked that they would be forgiven because they did not know what they were doing.

 

I don’t know about you, but to me that has all the markings of “uncommonness.” When reviled, Jesus reviled not again. When charged with claiming to be a King—which He was—He said, “As you say.”  Even his closest friends watched from a distance as He died alone. He himself admitted that He could have called ten thousand angels to rescue Him, yet He didn’t, for that would have thwarted the plan of God. This gruesome death was His purpose and He would see it through to the very end—not part way. No, He wouldn’t pronounce His assignment too difficult to complete, nor waver in His belief that this was God’s plan. He would not question who He was or what He came to do. Rather, He endured the cross and pushed through until He could declare before heaven and earth that “It is finished.”

 

Uncommon to mankind? I should say so. Uncommon to you and me? Certainly. There is no commonness of man to be found anywhere in His story, yet we are much like the disciples that fled in the garden. We are capable of standing with Peter and deny that we know Him. At times, we too question His claim to be King. It’s even possible that we would join the ranks of those who jeered and cried out “Crucify him!” Most assuredly, we identify with the lot of followers who looked on from a distance. And the ones who were clueless about what they were doing—they could actually be our next of kin.

 

So how might the word uncommon inspire us? My prayer for myself is that I will never again think of the cross as common. May I never forget the expensive price tag attached to my soul, or take for granted the love of Christ that caused Him to take my place. God forbid that I should ever think that forgiveness is simply Christian jargon, as if God were handing out free raffle tickets for a big prize. I pray that I never underestimate the pain He endured to make me His child, and that I never forget His kindness extended to me is the greatest gift I will ever receive. And lastly, I pray the word “common” never enters my thought process again as I reflect on that incredibly awesome resurrection morning when Christ broke through all the barriers and cinched my own resurrection from death, hell and the grave. Oh, it truly is an uncommon story.

 

As the choir mounted the stage and took their seats for our final practice, I challenged us all to consider what a privilege is ours to present this uncommon story of an uncommon Savior, His uncommon sacrifice, and His uncommon resurrection to many Easter Sunday visitors who perhaps still see Jesus as merely a common man.

 

With a renewed energy and an abundance of adoration and praise filling our hearts, we pulled off a pristine rehearsal. Wishing all of you a very Happy and Uncommon Easter. ~ Janie Kellogg

Photograph by Mark Rouk, Oologah, Oklahoma

 

 

 

Have You Seen the Star? December 20, 2017

Filed under: Holidays — Janie Kellogg @ 12:45 pm
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I never know how or when the inspiration will come for my annual Christmas post—I just know it will. This year, it happened the day after Thanksgiving, when we took my stepson, Wade, to a movie. The choice was simple—animated, not too long, and a positive message. The newly-released Christmas movie Star was sure to fill the bill.

 

Entertaining, delightful, and yes, inspiring! As we got back into the car, we had many takeaways to share with one another. First, we loved the genuinely stubborn donkey named Bo. After chasing his own dreams, Bo decided to turn around and go back to help Mary, the one who had shown him kindness. In the end, by following God’s plan instead of his own, Bo found the desire of his heart—to carry a King on his back.

 

Second, there were those really-bad dogs that pursued Mary relentlessly because their wicked master wanted to kill her. Yet, when Bo bravely intervened and had them headed toward their death, he chose to show mercy instead. In reality, the really-bad dogs were themselves prisoners of the wicked one. Perhaps they were worth giving another chance. After receiving compassion from Bo, they too came and worshipped the Baby King.

 

Lastly, there was Mary’s faith—it never wavered as she remained oblivious to the threats that swarmed around her. Because Mary knew God had given her this assignment, she was confident that nothing could keep her baby boy from being born. She trusted the God who had decreed it so, His choices for Jesus’ make-shift nursery, and the weird menagerie that became the welcoming party.

 

So is Star simply a cute movie, or is there a message for us? I believe the later. Like Bo, we stubbornly chase our own dreams. But somewhere along the way, God’s kindness catches up with us and we make a turn around. It’s then that we realize following God’s plan is the only way to have the desire of our hearts. And aren’t we reminded by those really-bad dogs that our world is full of really-bad characters who are also being directed by the evil one? Is it possible that they can’t see how they are being used by the great enemy of all mankind? Perhaps, some mercy and compassion from us might turn them around. After all, haven’t we been given a second chance? And then there is Mary’s faith—oh how I need it, how we need it! In a world full of darkness, disorder, and danger, could we learn to be oblivious to the threats? Could we see our God-given assignment and then trust the One who has decreed it so, His choices for our lives, and even the weird people He places along our way? Perhaps we could, that is, if our faith wasn’t so small.

 

As Christmas approaches, I must ask, “Have you seen the Star yet?” Have you caught a glimpse of the deeper meaning behind that familiar story of Jesus’ birth and how it applies in the here and now? My prayer for all of us is that we will begin today to follow God’s plan, to show mercy and compassion as we go, and that our faith in God will grow BIG as we embrace the New Year.

 

Christmas blessings to all ~ Janie Kellogg

 

What Do We Really Want From God? July 18, 2017

The ink was barely dry in my journal after I finished writing What Does God Really Want from Us? when the Holy Spirit prompted me to turn that question around—What do we really want from God? Interesting thought, but doesn’t He already know what we want from Him?

 

Of course, the answer is yes, but I sensed that I was being pressed to look deeper into my soul, as to what I want from God—well, other than salvation, health, protection, finances, and success! After all, don’t we all want a life of well-being? I think that is commonly true, but I knew in my heart of hearts He was asking me a pointed question: What am I expecting God to do for me if I am living for Him?

 

I recently listened to an audio devotional called “The Slippery Slope of Discontentment” by Mike Harland, a spokesman for Lifeway Worship. Being a worship leader himself, Mike was able to speak into the lives of other worship leaders about how we assess our ministries. He said we often blame our lack of success on what we don’t have. We say that if we just had more resources…more choir members…more great soloists…a better sound system…a different pastor…a bigger facility…more time…more, more, more. That, my friend, is indeed a slippery slope.

 

My preacher son, Brent, has a saying that fits here as well—“More isn’t always better.” It’s sad to admit that our culture, including church culture, has taught us to believe if we had more of whatever, we would be happier, more successful, accomplish greater things, and last but not least, we could bring more glory to God.

 

So, do I know my own heart? What am I reaching for? What do I expect to be the end result of my efforts and my sacrifices? Am I expecting God to make me a great writer? A great singer? A great choir director? A great speaker or teacher? A great soul-winner? Am I expecting more and greater gifts, or am I content with the ones God has given me?

 

I don’t have the answers to all of those questions, but I am asking the Holy Spirit to show me my own heart. I fear we have allowed much positive thinking and destiny-driven preaching to sway the church toward discontentment rather than embracing God’s true plan for our lives.

 

In his best-selling book, The Purpose Driven Life, Rick Warren tells us that we were born for a purpose—God’s purpose in putting us on planet earth. God knew beforehand what gifts and calling we would have; He knew in advance our circle of influence, our level of education and opportunity; and He knew what we would accomplish during our time here. In fact, God saw it all before we were born. “Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:16

 

So are we actually doing what He purposed for us or are we off on some detour doing our own thing? If He determined that our influence would be a small circle rather than far reaching, will we be content? If He decided that we would be a simple servant doing the Father’s will rather than great in the eyes of the world, will we be content with that also? What if He has chosen for us to suffer for His glory?

 

I don’t have the answers to those questions either, but I do know that many Christians, including me, always seems to be reaching for something greater—yet never quite getting there. Ever wonder why greatness eludes us? If God chooses that our lives bring glory to Him as an ordinary person—not some superstar—shouldn’t we submit to His choosing?

 

I think the best response to What Do I Really Want from God, is this:  I want God to show me His ordained purpose for my life and then help me be content with whatever He has chosen for me—not something great that I’ve dreamed up on my own. ~ Janie Kellogg