“It’s not over.”  These are the words my husband spoke to me after I came to him one night, utterly broken and distraught, tears streaming down my face, over my best friend teetering on the edge of death.  She was fighting her second round of cancer in a year (first time with an aggressive breast cancer; this time with five small tumors in her brain).  She had been staying in the hospital for over a month at this point and my friends and I (and her family, church community,etc.) had been interceding for her not stop for healing breakthrough.  However, at this moment in time, the outlook appeared bleak and I was at my wit’s end.  We had fasted, we had prayed, we had spoken faith-filled declarations, organized large worship and prayer gatherings on her behalf and for others….and my faith had fallen into a pit of hopelessness and foreboding.  And then my husband comforted me with those three words, “It’s not over.”

And a sliver of hope pierced my soul.

How could those three simple words instill a glimmer of light, so powerful that it eclipsed the darkness that was beginning to overwhelm me?  Those three simple words erased the word “defeat” that I had inscribed over my friend’s future.

Soon after that, my friend experienced a miraculous turnaround, which amazed even her atheist doctor.  Within weeks from that dark night, she was released from the hospital and was recuperating in her parents’ home.  I wish I could share that she had a fairytale ending.  However, a few months later, she did pass away due to complications from her cancer battle.

Hope is a powerful force.  Hope is believing God will work all things for our good, no matter our circumstances.  (In no way am I saying that cancer is good.  Cancer is evil.  But our amazing God can turn anything, no matter how horrendous and despicable, for our good.  It’s His promise.)

I remember sitting on my blue couch, a few days after Meg had passed.  I was sobbing.  Nothing about this was fair.  Nothing about her husband becoming a young widower or her children becoming motherless was fair.  Nothing about losing my worship partner and best friend was fair.  Once again, I felt completely broken and defeat blanketed my soul.

In that moment,  I felt the Lord come and sit next to me on that blue couch.  The same blue couch that Meg and I had often sat upon and chatted after Monday night dinners, when our kids would yell and laugh and play in our basement and we would talk about topics from the glory of God to fashion to worship to healing of past hurts to family to ministry….  On that day in April of 2015, I felt the Lord sit beside me and speak to me.  He told me that Megann was fully alive; that she was more alive than I was.  And He proceeded to tell me many other beautiful things.  And I felt His words begin to infuse my soul with hope and light and healing. And His words began to erase the words “We lost” that I had etched onto her gravestone in my heart.

From that conversation on the blue couch three years ago, I’ve had the honor of fighting in prayer, worship, and fasting for various friends whose lives were on the line.  Sometimes they transitioned to glory, but more recently (hallelujah!), a few have experienced incredible deliverances and breakthrough.  

I do not know what you are walking through today, but I do know these truths:

• It’s not over.
• There is hope.
• God will work all things for our good.

When we choose hope, we are choosing to invite Jesus into our situation, because hope is a person.  And although our circumstances will most certainly disappoint us, the goodness of God is eternal and His goodness towards us is true and sure.

Will we choose to trust Him today?

“Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.”   Romans 5:3-5 (NIV)

“And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  Romans 8:28

Back in 2006, I remember hearing Lindell Cooley (worship pastor during the Brownsville Revival back in the mid to late 90s) share a story about being asked to speak to a group of Jewish rabbis in Nashville, TN.  Nashville is the city in which Lindell now pastors a church.  The rabbis had heard that Lindell was a supporter of Israel and wanted to connect with him.  Lindell was surprised at this invitation and was inquiring of the Lord as to what he should speak on.  What does a Pentecostal like him speak about to a group of Hebrew Bible scholars?  What did he have to offer them?  And then this thought came to him - the presence of the Lord.  Of all the things he had learned to love and know intimately during the revival and beyond, it was the Lord’s manifest presence.  And so he shared about the presence the Lord.

I remember being a 31 year old worship leader and professional musician listening to that story.  I had already co-pastored a campus ministry group with my husband, won two positions in two different local symphonies, taught at various universities and colleges, etc.  Even at that “young” age, I thought I “knew” ministry and knew the world of professional music: been there, done that, and bought the t-shirt.

However, because of some of the challenging things my husband was walking through as one of the staff pastors at the church he was serving at, I was becoming keenly aware that there was much I had not known about ministry, as well as some things I wish I did not know about vocational ministry.  

But in that moment, listening to Lindell’s story, I realized that I could choose to dedicate my life to knowing God’s presence…..really knowing His presence.  This was more than just about ministry; it was a divine invitation to know Him deeply.

I knew, and sometimes bemoaned the fact that I would never be as cool or as talented as the worship leader down the road or the one whose songs were broadcast on the radio.  As someone who strived for excellence in her art, this bothered me.  However, I could dive into Him in such as way that His presence would saturate my song.  

When I choose to live a life saturated in Him, His essence, His power, His authority, His fragrance rests upon the activities of my day, from the grand to the mundane.  

This changed everything.

It didn’t mean that I didn’t still seek to grow as a singer/director/musician by attending conferences or taking private lessons.  I still did (and do) these things to improve the mechanics of how I am serving.  However, I understood that good singing or good playing or good leadership skills were not enough.  These good skills, devoid of His touch, could not help someone encounter the Holy Spirit.  Only if my being, my song, my leadership skills were saturated with Him.  He in me, flowing through me was the game changer.  Still is.  Christ in me the hope of glory.

Do I still compare myself to others?  Yep, but I do it a whole lot less than I used to.  Living a life rooted in His love smooths out the wrinkles of competition and comparison.  Did this revelation make ministry easier?  Yes and no.  John and I ended up entering one of the most challenging and painful seasons of ministry soon after.  However, my secret life in God (and the prayers of family and friends) were what sustained me and eventually allowed me to flourish even in the midst of great turmoil.

Christ in me, the hope of glory.  He is the game changer.  Is He yours?