• Menu
  • Skip to primary navigation
  • Skip to main content
  • Skip to primary sidebar

Coffee with Christ

Discovering True Intimacy with Our Savior

  • Home
  • The Podcast
  • CwC: The Blog
  • Community Bible Study
  • Bible in a Year
  • About CwC
  • Contact Me
  • Home
  • The Podcast
  • CwC: The Blog
  • Community Bible Study
  • Bible in a Year
  • About CwC
  • Contact Me

CwC: The Blog

When We Make Bad Decisions

September 1, 2019 //  by Nikol//  Leave a Comment

Have you ever made a bad decision? 

Have you ever let jealousy or anger or the desire to be loved take you to places you never imagined you would go?  

Are there choices in your life you regret? 

Do you take matters in to your own hands?  

Has something terrible happened to you at the hand of another?  

Are your family dynamics less than desirable?

Do you need to know there is hope and beauty despite these things?  

The story of Leah and Rachel in Genesis has been on my mind for months.  It’s not a story for the weak at heart.  There is jealousy, anger, selfish ambition, cruel intentions, betrayal, and rape.

It’s a hard story.  

And it was a hard life for them.  

Leah and Rachel were sisters who married the same husband, Jacob.   The first sister-wives, if you will.  Their father tricked Jacob into marrying Leah even though he wanted Rachel, and eventually, Jacob married Rachel as well.  

Leah knew Jacob didn’t love her; that he wanted her sister, Rachel, instead.  She bore this shame daily.   She longed for love and affection and thought she had to earn it to get it.  God saw her misery and heard her prayers, and so he blessed her with the ability to have children.  

Rachel had the thing Leah craved most – the love and affection of Jacob.  But Rachel had her own burden to bear.  She was unable to have children.  Jealous of her sister’s ability,  she resented Leah and was angry at her husband despite the fact that it was God who had closed her womb.  

And so a war of hideous proportions began fueled by jealousy between the sisters, and they started a contest to see who could have the most children.   To make matters worse, when they couldn’t physically bear children themselves, they gave their handmaids to have children on their behalf.

Can you image the handmaid’s plight?  To be forced to have sex with the husband of another to bear children that would not be yours?

It’s awful. 

The result of the battle brought about children.  Children who would be exposed to this unhealthy dynamic. 

Can you image their position?  To know they were pawns in their mother’s games?  

How could Leah and Rachel (and Jacob) be so dumb?  
How could they be so cruel to one another?
How could they let resentment and jealousy drive them to such unhealthy behaviors?
How could they use the people who cared for them and the innocent lives of children as weapons in their war?

It is so easy for me to judge.  
So easy for me to go there.  
So easy for me to not put myself in their shoes.

As much as we hate to admit it, we are the same as Leah and Rachel.  Our devices might look different and our situations may not be the same, but feelings will get the best of every one of us.  And feelings drive us to make dumb decisions.  Really dumb.

We will use and abuse people. 
We will manipulate.   
We will incorporate others into our evil schemes.   
We will go to extraordinary lengths to feel love and to belong.  
We will miss the mark far beyond what we think.  

Or maybe you are on the up-and-up.  Maybe you’re a self-aware, devoted Christian who checks off all the boxes.  

You read your bible daily. 
You go to church.
You listen to Christian music. 
You obey. 
You serve. 
You minister. 
You pray. 
You are even part of a small group.  

But you fear what would happen if you failed to check off a box.  You fear the consequence.  You think your world will fall apart or that God will smite you if you stumble even once.   

In either case, there is hope and grace amidst Leah & Rachel’s depravity. 


Earlier in Genesis, God makes a promise.  God promised Jacob’s grandfather, Abraham, that he would make him into a great nation. Jacob’s father, Isaac, received the same promise from the Lord.   And God’s promise to Abraham and Isaac was to carry on through Jacob’s lineage. Let’s also remember Jacob stole that blessing from his eldest brother, Esau.

Stole.

It.

God had a plan to make Abraham’s descendants into a great nation that would ultimately bless everyone.  Rachel & Leah’s war –  as unhealthy and sick and twisted as it was –  literally birthed the twelve sons that would become twelve tribes that would make up the nation of Israel. 

That’s right. 

The nation of Israel who would birth our Savior, Jesus, was born in the muck of mucked up individuals.  He was born because of, and in spite of, scheming, twisted, disobedient, manipulative, hard-hearted, stiff-necked people. He was born from people who didn’t check off all the boxes, and that is a game changer.

God used every bit of their unhealthy behavior to bring about His plan of redemption and to fulfill His covenant promise to Adam & Eve, to Abraham, to Isaac, to Jacob, and ultimately to all humanity.

So, think back with me….

What bad decision seems irredeemable?   
What regret keeps you up at night?
What feelings get the best of you?
Who has been collateral damage to your shortcomings? 
Who have you hurt in your quest for love or power or money?  
Are you collateral damage to another’s actions?  

Like Leah & Rachel’s story, there is hope and grace for you here.

Not one single one of us is powerful enough to screw up God’s plan.  A situation can never go too far that God cannot redeem it.  He is famous for using foolishness to accomplish His desires. 

He can use your jealousy. 
He can use your bad decisions. 
He can use the thing you most regret.
He can use terrible family dynamics. 
He can use that bad thing that happened to you at the hands of another.
He can use anything to accomplish His good plan.

And anything includes the worst thing you’ve ever done and the worst thing that has ever happened to you.   

Joseph was right. What we mean for evil, God uses for good. 

So, take a deep breath. Breathe. You do not know what God is doing. You do not know how it is going to turn out.

Rest.

Rest in knowing you cannot screw up beyond the help and purposes of God.  You’re not that big.  And even if you were, God is bigger still.   And He is faithful.

Has God redeemed something in your life?  Sharing your story in the comments can encourage others, and I would love to hear it as well.  

Category: Reflections, Struggles

Doubt

August 23, 2019 //  by Nikol//  2 Comments

“Now the serpent was more crafty than any of the wild animals the Lord God had made.  He said to the women, “Did God really say, ‘You must not eat from any tree in the garden’?” – Genesis 3:1

Let’s take a walk in the Garden of Eden for a moment.  God has given Adam and Eve a beautiful place to live, food to eat and fellowship with him.

It’s paradise.
It’s perfection.
Everything is as it should be.
In God’s very own words, “It was good.”

But then, the serpent slithers alongside Eve. Can you hear it as he hisses, “Did God really ssssay…”?

All it took was those four little words to doom humanity for eternity, and at the heart of those four little words is doubt.

My first reaction is to wonder:

Why is she’s talking to an animal?
Did the animals talk back then?
If not, didn’t it raise a red flag that it was talking?

Second, Adam is standing next to her.  The very person that heard God say NOT to eat from that tree.  Why in the heck didn’t he jump in?

But instead of shoving their fingers in their ears and running away screaming, “La la la…I’m not listening,” they both stand there and have a conversation with a snake and decided to take his word over God’s.

And so begins the battle for our souls.

How does the serpent get Eve to sin?
How does he get her to doubt God’s very words?
He uses logic!

The serpent is described as “crafty” and the Hebrew word means “sensible, prudent.”  Sensible means to show good sense or sound judgement, and prudence is exercising good judgment or common sense.

Do you see?  Do you see how he uses common sense to make us doubt God?

How many times has God said something and our mind rationalizes that it’s impossible?

How many times have we looked at a line clearly dawn in the sand of scripture and chalked it up to the culture “at the time” so we didn’t have to accept it?

How many times have we prayed for God to meet a need, and then when that need is met, we call it a coincidence?

Doubt is a detestable, ugly, nagging word.  It’s the antonym of belief – the nemesis of Christians since the beginning of time.  It’s a weapon that Satan wields far too often.  A weapon that inflicts mental, emotional and spiritual pain, and inevitably separates us from God.  Doubting God, in my assessment is a sin, and at the very least a slippery slope that leads there.

Think about it this way.

How do you feel when someone doubts that what you say to them is truth?How do you feel when someone you love doubts your intentions or motives toward them?
How do you feel when you tell someone you are going to do something and they don’t think you will come through?

It’s insulting, aggravating, and it hurts!  I have to wonder if that is exactly how God feels when we doubt him.

So, how do you kill the slithering serpent of doubt?

Grab the “sword of the spirit which is the word of God (Eph. 6:7).”

Arm yourself with scripture.
Get in the Word.
Memorize it.
Sear it into your very soul.

And when you hear that familiar hiss, “Did God really sssay…” don’t have a conversation with it, don’t entertain it, just grab your sword and chop off its slimy head.

This post originally published in January 2010

Category: Devotions, Reflections

The Dam Broke

February 7, 2019 //  by Nikol//  1 Comment

Last night the dam broke. It was unexpected and messy. I’d like to say it came out of nowhere, but it has been boiling beneath the surface for years. You see…I have a secret.

I keep it hidden.
I walk around like it doesn’t bother me.
I wave it away like a gnat.

But last night, the dam broke. And the secret came out in my small group.

We had a smaller gathering than usual and the conversation traveled loosely. I love conversations like those, because people feel more at ease to share. And when deep thoughts and feelings are shared, my heart rejoices.

Somehow the conversation drifted to going to church, and that little secret came out. But with that little secret came BIG, GIGANTIC, ugly-girl tears.

So, what is my secret? What made me cry so hard I still have a headache 12 hours later?

Going to church is a struggle for me.

Every.

Single.

Sunday.

This has been going on for about…ohhhh….ummmmm….15 YEARS!

Years, y’all!

After I said this seemingly harmless statement, I saw them lean in and ask the question of all questions: Why? And then I threw up all over them a bunch of words that didn’t make any sense.

What they didn’t know, what I didn’t share, and what I was, clearly, unable to articulate, was that I have a SIGNIFICANT burden for the Church. So much so that I pray about it almost as much as I pray for my marriage to be reconciled.

Before we get into the why, I feel the need to clarify: I love my church. It is something special, and I knew it when the first prayer was prayed on my very first Sunday. It cares for its members in a way I’ve never seen. I’ve experienced it first hand. I love the leaders in it. And I L-O-V-E my small group. There is nowhere else I think I should be.

With that being said, here is the rub that has accumulated over the years throughout churches I’ve attended. It is not one individual church.  It is countless ones.  Maybe it is Christian culture that drives me up its walls. Maybe it is a Southern thing. Maybe it is a Birmingham thing, but whatever it is: it is rampant.

I’ve sat under teaching that puts milk into babies’ bellies and just scratches the surface.  We need to go deeper. We need to challenge those sitting in the pews. We need to serve meat so rich on Sunday we chew on it the rest of the week.

I’ve attended churches that do not know how to minister to the unwed. Many of its members don’t know how to carry on a conversation with someone who isn’t married with children.  Conversations aren’t deep.  Ideas aren’t shared or challenged.  People put on a smiling face when they walk in its doors.  There is little authenticity.  It’s all shallow and surface Sunday after Sunday after Sunday.  It makes my spirit groan.

I’ve watched as the Church caters to families, but specifically, it caters to the women in the church. It has stifled the men among us. I’ve watched it destroy people who don’t look like the rest of its members…the elderly…the addicted…the broken…the shamed. 

And it makes me ANGRY! Really, really ANGRY!

I know a lot of people who’ve given up on the Church. Who have walked out its doors possibly never to return. Good people. People who love Jesus. People who can make a difference. And so, I have a burden for it.

I have a burden for it because it is supposed to look different.  It is supposed to be about who God is and what His word says. It is supposed to be a refuge for all walks of life, all ages, all stages, all races, all nations, all sinners coming together and focusing on what God is doing in their lives, what He is teaching them, and, most importantly, who He is.  It’s supposed to be for people who are needy and broken.  But it isn’t.

So, yea…every Sunday is a struggle, but most Sundays, I still go and sit among its members.

I go because I know it isn’t about my feelings.
I go because it is pleasing to the Lord. 
I go because I want to change it. 
I go because I believe in the God who created it. 
I go because He has a heart for His bride,
And I go because I believe, in spite of all these things, there are people within its walls who have a heart for Heaven.  And they shine like diamonds among the dead.

Category: Reflections

2018: The Year of Mourning

January 13, 2019 //  by Nikol//  2 Comments

I like to take my time with these “end of the year” recaps. I peruse the year’s journals and social media posts to remember things I’ve more than likely forgotten with this middle-aged brain of mine. And so, here I am, thirteen days into 2019 recapping the previous year.

I’ve got to say, though, I might have outdone myself with that title. What do you think? Doesn’t it make you want to jump in and read all the happiness? But when you get down to it, The Year of Mourning was much better than…

The Year of Despair
The Year of Loss
The Year of Endings
The Year of Ashes
The Year of Weeping and Gnashing of Teeth

You see what I’m saying?

The Year of Mourning seems sad, but it encapsulates well the feelings of yesteryear. 

Despair came, but I was never without hope even on the darkest days. There was loss and ashes all around of things held dear, and weeping, there was a lot of weeping, but with the tears healing began.

Mourning is a hard thing and it continues long after the sting it gone. It is a dance with a beauty all its own. It is a holding close, a moving on, and a letting go. It is an acknowledgment of holding someone near, of loving deeply, and of being deeply loved. It is cherishing the precious, the tender, and the good. It is learning a new way of living and experiencing the void of someone lost.

And while mourning is at the same time sad and beautiful, I pray to the Good Lord whatever book He has already written that is my life, 2018 was the worst chapter and things only go up from here. Amen? Amen.

So, without further delay, here are some of the best and worst things last year had to offer.

Best New Year’s Resolution:
Not making one (second year running)

Scariest Moment:
It is a tie between getting divorce papers on my doorstep and having both my HVAC systems quit the day before I moved with 95° temperatures!

Funniest Moment:
I’m sure I did laugh in 2018, but I don’t remember it. Too dark? Probably. But it’s honest.

Weirdest Month:
August (second year running)

Biggest Obsession:
Renovating & decorating downstairs. I was on a mission to make it cozy and comfortable. 

Don’t you want to come hang out with us?
Christmas-time

Biggest Loss:  
My marriage

Favorite Read:
The Bible. That might seem like a Sunday School answer, but honestly, it was invaluable and brought such comfort and hope.

Favorite TV Show:
The Crown

This is Us

Best Movie: 
A Star is Born

P.S. The soundtrack is phenomenal!

Favorite DIY: 
The backsplash in my kitchen (it was soooo easy!)

And this garage sale find/dining room chair makeover (it was not as easy as I thought).

Biggest Accomplishment:
Not losing my mind (if only I weren’t serious).

Best Concert/Conference:
Andrew Peterson’s Resurrection Letters

This man changed my life and he probably will never know it.
I have to say: I’m not an autograph person, but I had to take something for him to sign or it would have been even more awkward than it already was. But this note made it worth every bit of awkward.

Biggest Surprise:
Moving out to “the country” and loving every minute of it.

Most Memorable Moment: 
Signing divorce papers. I’ve never experienced God’s peace quite like that moment.

AND

Seeing the dogs run free at the beach. Here’s my video.

Biggest Blessing:
My dogs. I’m sure my social media circles are sick and tired of seeing the monsters, but honestly, I never knew what a blessing animals could be during hard times until last year. They will keep you going and smiling.

Favorite Bible Study:
No structured bible study in 2018.  I’m looking forward to 2019.

Favorite Podcasts:  
The Next Right Thing
The Bible Binge
Dirty John
Dr. Death

Best Purchase:
I’d like to say my house, but if I’m honest, a close second is this paint roller.  Glory to God!  When you are painting 1,000 square feet, you cannot buy anything more valuable. 

Best Vacation:
Taking the monsters to the beach with Kels!  Utter joy abounded!  

Favorite New Experience
I was able to take a couple of laps around Barber Motorsports in a Porsche. It was exhilarating. Here’s some video we took in the car.

Biggest Disappointment:
No comment.

Biggest Surprise
Learning is a mass email that my boss of 10-years had taken a new position within the organization.  

And so, that’s it. 2018, you will not be missed.

Category: Reflections, Struggles

Forty-five

January 5, 2019 //  by Nikol//  1 Comment

I turned 45 years old recently.  I’ve survived that many years.  Saying this at the end of the hardest years of my life is a miracle in its own right, and looking at the big picture, I am blessed there have been no major bodily glitches.  

  • God has awoken me from slumber for over 16,434 days straight (not counting naps, of course). 
  • My lungs have moved oxygen in and carbon dioxide out for more than 394,416 consecutive hours. 
  • My heart has rhythmically pumped that oxygen around my veins and through my arteries for over 23,663,960 minutes in a row. 

It’s amazing, really, when you think about failure rates of things we build these days. What are the odds that not one single thing goes wrong on any given day? That all systems are “go” for years and years and years? And, God willing, many more.

But let’s be honest, 45 doesn’t look the way I thought it would.  And life hasn’t turned out the way I planned.

When I was a kid, it looked OLD.   REAL old. 
As a teenage, it seemed ignorant.
In my 20s, it appeared boring.
As a 30-something, well….it started to look younger.  MUCH younger.

Now that I’m here, it feels young and wise and a little more tiring. And there are days when I still don’t know what the hell I am doing.

When I look back on the whole of my 16,434+ days.  I pick up on the patterns even though most were ordinary days: some were good; others bad; all contained lessons learned and taught.

There were happy times and certainly some sad ones. 
There were hours of ugly girl laughs and hours of ugly girl cries.
There were seasons of happy harvests of utter joy…

I’ve had my fair share of surprising plot twists…small wins….big victories…devastating losses…and hard times overcome.

Forty-five feels like a crossroads of sorts, and I’m standing in the intersection looking both ways, evaluating the paths, trying to figure out which way to go.   

And even though it doesn’t look like I thought it would and life hasn’t turned out the way I hoped or planned, it does know that Hope rises in the most unlikely places…in the most surprising ways…when you least expect it.

Forty-five has lived long enough to know that beauty rises from the ashes.

It knows Spring always comes after the Winter. 
It knows fruit follows pruning.
It knows after the seed dies, there is a harvest.

It knows that even if I don’t know what I’m doing, God does.
It knows He still has a plan, and He’s still working.

He is sending down shoots into the earth.
He is tending the soil.
He is watering the roots.
He is preparing the way.

And He is reminding me of the ancient words of King Solomon…

For everything there is a season,

a time for every activity under heaven.

A time to be born and a time to die.

A time to plant and a time to harvest.

A time to kill and a time to heal.

A time to tear down and a time to build up.

A time to cry and a time to laugh.

A time to grieve and a time to dance.

A time to scatter stones and a time to gather stones.

A time to embrace and a time to turn away.

A time to search and a time to quit searching.

A time to keep and a time to throw away.

A time to tear and a time to mend.

A time to be quiet and a time to speak.

A time to love and a time to hate.

A time for war and a time for peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Forty-five knows God makes everything beautiful in its time (Eccl 3:11), and that weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning (Ps. 30:5)

Category: Reflections

Day 13: A Silence Broken

December 22, 2018 //  by Nikol//  Leave a Comment

The tradition began as a way to celebrate with my dad’s family. Each Christmas Eve we would unwrap our presents, so we could celebrate with my mom’s much larger family the next day.

On Christmas morning, my mom’s dad, or Granddaddy, as we called him, would come over early in the morning to check out the gifts Santa left for us. It was a sweet tradition. One of my favorite in a long line of good childhood memories.

The tradition of opening all our gifts on Christmas Eve stuck around long after my grandparent’s passed and long after my dad’s passing. I like that we still do it. In my heart it is a way we make room and remember those who are no longer with us.

But before we were allowed (and are still allowed) to rip open the wrapping paper, we read Luke’s account of events. We start in chapter 2. But lately I’ve had a curiosity about the initial story of Elizabeth and Zechariah.

I’m a bit slow on the draw sometimes, and I’ve wondered why this seemingly random story appears just before the fireworks of Jesus’s birth. This year, it hit me…but first, let’s recap the story in case you aren’t familiar.

Zechariah was a priest who was married to Elizabeth who came from a long line of priests as well. Like any barren woman and family desperate for children, an emptiness abounded. About a year and a half from Jesus’s birth, Zechariah was chosen randomly to serve in the Temple.

Much like the shepherds were doing their duty the night of Christmas, Zechariah did his.

While he was burning the incense, an angel of the Lord appeared to him. Remember, angels were not angels in the way we think of them today. They were warriors and messengers and this one had a name, Gabriel, and Zechariah was afraid.

“Don’t be afraid, Zechariah! God has heard your prayer.”

Luke 1:13

While Zechariah was praying prayers for the people, it turns out, he was also praying prayers for his family and the Lord answered.

Your wife, Elizabeth, will give you a son, and you are to name him John. You will have great joy and gladness, and many will rejoice at his birth, for he will be great in the eyes of the Lord. He will be filled with the Holy Spirit, even before his birth. And he will turn many Israelites to the Lord their God.

Luke 1:13-15

And just like that – in an instant – God’s silence was broken – not only in the matter of Zechariah’s prayers – but a silence broken in answer to 400 years of God’s people praying.

And maybe that is why Luke recounts Zechariah’s story.

To tell of a silence broken.

The Old Testament ends with the prophets – those who foretold of the coming King. And the New Testament begins with the birth of a new one who would tell the world of the King among them.

“He will be a man with the spirit and power of Elijah. He will prepare the people for the coming of the Lord. He will turn the hearts of the fathers to their children, and he will cause those who are rebellious to accept the wisdom of the godly.”

Luke 1:17

And maybe that is what you are waiting for in the season of Advent: for a silence to be broken.

Rest assured, Dear One, that the God who wouldn’t remain silent any longer in Zechariah’s day, will not remain silent for long in yours – even if you feel like your journey and his silence have lasted 400 years.

He is waiting.

For the proper time to speak and to act.

And you can be as sure as the sun rises each day that Immanuel will come to you.

He will come to you in the silence.
He will sit by you in the sorrow.
He will come to you in the longing.
He will come to you in the waiting.
He will come to you as he came so long along.

He will come to you and He will be your Hope.

For [His] words will certainly be fulfilled at the proper time.

Luke 1:20

Category: Great ADVENTure

  • « Go to Previous Page
  • Page 1
  • Page 2
  • Page 3
  • Page 4
  • Interim pages omitted …
  • Page 40
  • Go to Next Page »

Primary Sidebar

Sign up for Coffee with Christ updates

* = required field

powered by MailChimp!

Search

Topics

  • (Re)Thinking Christmas (11)
  • Devotions (5)
  • Giving Thanks (13)
  • Great ADVENTure (14)
  • Music Mondays (26)
  • Random (16)
  • Reflections (152)
  • Reflections on Holy Week (2)
  • Shadowlands (1)
  • Struggles (46)
  • The Throne Room (2)
  • Wandering Wednesday (3)

Recent Posts

  • Podcast Season 2 & Free Journal
  • To the American Church: It’s Time to Change
  • Good Friday: When Institutions Fail Us
  • In the Meantime
  • For His Good Pleasure

Twitter

Tweets by @nkwhitten

Copyright © 2019 - Nikol K Jones