A cry for the Holy Spirit, from intersecting lines of theological divergence in my heart

“For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”

Revelation 7:17

My bones are dry and brittle in a place where I guess I should be thriving. I sit in the muscle-bound restraints of anxiety. It is an anxiety strapped and tangled in an intimate fight for faith behind closed doors, compounded by the mental struggle of finding myself in a faction of Christianity that demands right theology and a striving for perfection from an imperfect, stumbling follower of Christ seeking to honor her devotion to her Savior at the altar of redemption.

It is a strange thing to be raised in the enlightenment of the charismatic embrace of the Holy Spirit, navigating the rising tides of great spiritual awakening, incredible openness and forgiveness and faith—followed by occasional low plummets to depths of spiritual abuses—to then find freedom and joy in the solid ground of tradition and in the submission to and the feast of the knowledge and right understanding of God’s Word, only to long—to thirst and hunger and pine for—the healing and refreshing waves of the charismatic expression once again.

The Word and His Spirit are one.

My mind—now drenched in His Word and more deeply rooted in the confidence that we can know a right truth found in a perfect scripture—calls down to my heart and across the stretched and exhausted tendons in my body and cries out for childlike expressive worship and to make room in my rationalizing mind for the Spirit to move as He pleases in my humble life.

Oh, Holy Spirit, I invite your active presence. I’ve seen it. I know it. Lord, come.

I feel the tension of being a limited human being and living in the divergence of the worldwide faith in Christ—each faction seeking to follow a Savior as best they know how and as best they can interpret, with the help of a Holy Helper.

Oh, how He loves the church—His bride.

But if the movement of the Lord depends on the rightness of my own humble theology, then I don’t stand a chance. So I stand before my God without a denomination on my name tag, just the name of a flawed human longing to know and follow and be led by the Shepherd in Word and Spirit and a great passion for the Church, His beloved bride.

Jesus, draw near.

I am too small and insignificant to eat up too much time gazing at others with eyes of curiosity, evaluation and measurement in the name of ‘discernment.’ My place is on my knees with eyes fixed upon the crook of the Shepherd who is leading us all in His narrow path. And there, I ask the Holy Spirit to train my eyes to stay.

And now I open my heart with an invitation to the Father to lead me in tradition and prayer, in study of the Word, in depths of creativity and the glory of His Spirit, in healing power and His joy to produce the miraculous. I will trust Him. He is a God that longs to be known— discovered both through experience and through study. Both in word and in action. And I will rest in the loving guidance of a Shepherd who leads His sheep to the springs of the water of life.

I will still my quiet self-righteous wrestling, that I may experience the righteous saving power of our great Lord and Savior for all who call on His name.

What is a Christian?

Jesus answered him, “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words. And the word that you hear is not mine but the Father’s who sent me.

John 14:23-24

My boys holding candles representing the “Light of the world” during a Christmas Eve service.

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My children are filled with curiosity fueled by their tireless and abundant energy and (possibly) too many sweets. This curiosity makes me the direct target of many, many challenging questions numbering into the hundreds during our average 12-hour day. Inevitably, I leave them disappointed… unable in my aging, finite and exhausted mind to meet the herculean challenge of answering all of their earnest questions.

If you have enjoyed the privilege of spending any significant length of time with someone between the ages 3 and 7, you probably understand the feeling—and you likely well know that one deeply philosophical question is followed in strict pattern by one absolutely ridiculous could-have-fallen-from-the-sky inquiry. It goes something like this:

“Mommy, how close can I actually get to the sun without dying?”

“Mommy, can you describe exactly what a booger should taste like?”

“Mommy, can you ask God if we will live in our human bodies when we die?”

“Mommy, do sidewalks have shadows?”

“Mommy, is God a number since numbers never end?”

“Mommy, how are batteries made?”

“Mommy, if I eat an apple seed will I have a baby?”

“Mommy, what is the biggest thing in the whole world?”

You know… typical questions from the pint-sized philosopher.

Although tiresome, these questions are not at all useless. They are great warm-ups for the questions occasionally thrown at me from an adult over a hot cup of tea—and especially for the ones too important to forfeit a response, such as this:

“So, what is a Christian?”

It’s such a great question—and one that always stops my breath for a second. We absolutely need church-attending (or not) folks to consider this question here in the South, and we absolutely need to be asked to answer it. It can be tempting to stack many assumptions regarding the intentions behind this question and balance them on top of one another to avoid the awkwardness of getting right to the heart of the gospel. Oh, how we don’t want to offend. Oh, how we want to make others feel good so that we can also feel good about how they feel about us. Oh how easy it feels to say a Christian is any or everybody who calls themselves one. But what good is this if it’s not true?

The reality is that “What is a Christian?” is an earnest question in need of an honest answer. And we can not fabricate this one, lest we do so out of the delusion that we are mini-gods. Jesus tells us explicitly in his teachings: “If anyone loves me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him and make our home with him. Whoever does not love me does not keep my words” (John 14:23-24).

A Christian is someone who obeys and submits to the teachings and commands of Jesus Christ.

“But how do I do this?”

You must prioritize a discovery and an openness to learn what Jesus taught and submit to it seriously in full faith so that it leaves nothing in your life untouched by what you have learned from Him.

“What did Jesus teach?”

He taught many things, but foremost Christ taught that we are all sinners (have turned away from God) and that we must repent (earnestly ask forgiveness from God) in order to receive enormous and incredible forgiveness given through Christ to our souls (the merciful, unearned favor of God to return to His presence). Jesus taught that if we are to “take up our cross and follow Him” (Matt.16:24-26) — we are to make a study of Him and His life that we may learn from Him and model our actions by Him here on earth.

And He stated that the road following Him is not easy, but when we follow Him He provides us a Helper (the Holy Spirit) and we will never be without His help for us.

So many of us have spent our time sitting in pews, singing hymns, owning a Bible, attending Christian private schools, and saying bedtime prayer poems that we may have missed it…

And others of us have devastatingly never heard this good news offered by Christ before. Forgiveness! The presence of God to help us! Could this be true? Is this not a myth?

It is true! And it is so real, my beloved reader…

And just in case you are one of the many who may have missed it, I wanted to make sure I stop and answer this question (like I do with my own children) that you receive a very straight-forward answer here.

In brief, a Christian is someone who believes this to be true: that Jesus is the Son of God who died for their sins, rose from the dead, reigns now as King over all, and because this is true they follow His teachings found in the Holy Bible and repent of their sins, accept the beautiful gift of forgiveness so that they may enter God’s presence, and submit to Jesus’ kingship over their life for an eternity.

Reader, a Christian is someone who believes that God has done the seemingly impossible because He is the very definition of LOVE itself. He has offered rescue to a broken, dying, and undeserving world.

You may need to ask yourself one very important follow-up question in sincerity: “Am I a Christian?”

And if you find yourself in need of a friend to discuss the possibilities of the answer to your question, my husband and I are absolutely available.

With all of my heart—Your humble servant,

Reagan

If a brisket sizzles in Austin, but you’re not there to eat it—does it still make your mouth water?

But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

2 Corinthians 12:9-11

Too much has happened since my last post to fully catch you up on the transitions. The short of it is that at the same time I launched into homeschooling my children, my family sold our beautiful home in Wake Forest and lived in transition for a while in that beautiful small town. Then we packed up and moved to the most oxymoronic city in the South—Austin, Texas (if you are wondering what I mean by ‘oxymoronic’ then you’ve probably never been to this incredible city).

I now have a better understanding what people mean when they use the verb “to uproot“, as in “What do you mean you’re uprooting your entire life to move to a new and unfamiliar place?

And even more… “Why would you uproot you’re entire life to plant a church in the South? Isn’t it saturated?

If the saturation of churches in the South were equivalent to a saturation of the gospel, then—sure—you may be right.

And, yes, there is some gospel here.

Someone once told me that sharing the gospel is like working to clean up a pile of bricks in the middle of the road… the more hands, the better, so I’m not really worried about the logic behind our decision.

The truth is that we don’t know why God moved us to Austin, but we know HE did it. He opened the doors and provided the confirmation through the faithful leadership at our small church in Wake Forest. He cut ties back home for us and propelled us forward onto Highway 40 toward our next life assignment—to live humble lives loving the people God puts around us in Austin by sharing the gospel with them through word and action. He provided a job waiting for my husband, free furniture, and a 3-bedroom apartment in a city where finding anywhere to live is a miracle from Heaven. He did this. We did not choose the details, we just chose to follow Him. We put all of our cards on table and He took them.

So, you can understand what I mean when I say I feel like all of this has been happening to me. I have motion sickness from the massive amount of change and hardship this transition has brought with it. I am ready to settle in, establish routine, and somehow readjust to living in a city that is simple beyond our economic means. I’m ready to see God move—but I am selfishly asking that He steady the boat a bit. I’m not as steadfast and faithful as I believed myself to be, and I desperately need Him to calm the storm. I don’t want to walk on the waves. Steadfastness is not this girl’s strong-suit, but I am repentant and fully reliant on this God of grace who saves us.

Here is a picture of the great contrast between myself and God in this transition:

When I panic, He is constant.

When I am afraid, He is steadfast.

When I can’t sleep, He bids me to rest in Him.

When I am unwise, He offers loving correction and wisdom from His throne.

When I am angry, He wins me with kindness.

When I am intimidated by the beauty, style, and knowledge of the world, He reminds me that He looks at the heart.

When I am sinful, He is just and accepts the blood of His son at the weak offer of my repentance.

When I am scared of what other people think of me, He reminds me that He is to be feared above all.

When I am convinced I can not share the gospel—that my life is too messy and my walk is not straight enough to provide a great witness for Him—He reminds me that if all I am is a life upheld by His mercy and grace for me, that will be enough.

One friend once asked me, “Reagan, what do expect to find at the end?” and my answer is the same now as it was then… “Jesus. Just Jesus.”

And just maybe some good Austin brisket… in the end.

One beautiful, anonymous day at a time

Over the past month almost every major sphere of my life has shifted. I’ve transitioned from being a corporate wageworker to a stay-at-home homeschooling mom.

My husband and I moved our family and all our things into an older, repair-needy home.

And my social circle has shifted. I no longer have regular adult conversations sprinkled throughout my day between meetings or over slow cups of coffee. I now converse mostly with my five- and two-year old boys over juice boxes and legos, and on occasion I manage to speak to the weary retail worker at Target.

And I am so impressionable. My conversations have morphed so that I now sometimes sound like I, myself, am five years old… or maybe even two.

My husband has been rock solid in the change. He speaks calmly, makes thoughtful decisions, and doesn’t panic in the new sole-breadwinner responsibility thrust upon his shoulders. In fact, from my vantage point, he is thriving.

I have not been so heroic in the wake of all the transitions. I find myself hunkered down in awe, arms stretched protectively over my soul… asking the Lord to mercifully put His hand over my eyes as He orchestrates the crashing waves of change. I can hardly handle the weight of His sovereignty in all of it. In every breakfast prepared… in every counting exercise completed or storybook read… in every dinner plate washed and stacked by my exhausted hands after bedtime…

I feel seasick and exhausted as I watch the plans He has detailed for my life unfurl in the fresh winds of each new day.

I had always assumed that my calling and my legacy was something to be discovered beyond the walls of home base… that the adventure was out there somewhere. The Lord has opened my eyes to see that the greatest adventure of my life is happening right here… in this place where I scrub toilets and fold laundry and hold children as they cry over scrapes and bruises.

My heart is full. My soul is feasting. And I am being refined in the fire of the obvious and humbling fact that I can not do this without Him. I am nothing without His grace.

My job as a follower of Christ is to obey my Lord. My role as His daughter is to do His will. In this I will fail completely on my own. Jesus is the only one who can truly accomplish the will of the Lord… and here in my home, in the rare quiet of a forced afternoon nap time, He is pouring out His mercy and showing me the way. One beautiful anonymous day at a time.

Sayonara to Social Media: After a year of being off social, being back on is proving unfruitful for the soul

The year 2020 was a chaotic year for the world, but was an incredibly peaceful year for our family—and it was this for a lot of reasons, but probably the most impactful reason was that we were not on social media.

Really, I was not on social media (I mean, my husband wasn’t either but he never really had a habitual problem with social).

We agreed to get off of social media to help support our year-long Contentment Challenge during which we did not participate in any extra spending for the year 2020 (it was an incredible challenge… and really helped us sort out our needs vs. our wants! You can listen to my interview with Nancy Ray, the founder of the Contentment Challenge here.)

It was probably the most focused… the most rewarding… the most productive… and the most restful year of my adult life.

And, again, this for many reasons… but a big reason was the absence of social media in my life.

The benefits of being off of social media were astounding for me. They included, but were not limited to, the following:

  • More focused time with my family.
  • A clear mind and ability to be all-in where I was at in the moment.
  • More time reading scripture.
  • More time resting when I was tired (rather than scrolling).
  • Less impetuous spending (for instance, we successfully completed one year of the Contentment Challenge, paid off an enormous amount of credit card debt, and built a solid foundation for our savings goal).
  • The ability to walk into church (mask or no mask) and love others well without the distraction of their political views flying in front of our faces.
  • The deeper conviction to take control of what comes into our minds and intentionally focus and filter out the light from the darkness (Jesus has a lot to say about how we should be doing this…).
  • I read so many books despite having been a full-time working mama of two during a stay-at-home pandemic.
  • Emotional stability and growing contentment with my self and my home.
  • The ability to hear from live people sitting at our dinner table, passing by on the sidewalk, or greeting in the grocery aisle and having them tell us about their recent life updates (pregnancies, marriages, divorces, sickness, etc..) and us having the authentic real reaction that comes with having heard the news for the first time.
  • Having the energy and emotional ability to share the gospel with our neighbors.
  • Picking up the phone to have real live phone conversations with those I thought of throughout the day.
  • Redefining my view of success being found in the shadows rather than on a public platform.
  • NOT having my brain subconsciously asking for the next “line” for my “public stage presence” on social media.
  • Discovering and investing in deep friendships without the distraction of surface-level noise from random crowds of others on my feed.
  • More time in prayer with a truly quiet mind and open heart to God’s opinion and direction.

(To hear more about how being off of social media completely changed my view of success as a woman and a mom, check out my interview on the Miss Teacher-Mom podcast on Christ-Centered Success.)

Then 2020 ended and the Lord began to nudge me towards writing… which I am doing and loving. Over the course of a few hard conversations, my writing coaches convinced me of the many benefits of joining social media to help build a bridge to my ideal reader, so I (prayerfully, hesitantly, and never completely peacefully…) agreed to do so.

Since rejoining social media here are some changes in myself that I have noticed over the past few months:

  • Cloudiness in my mind.
  • Distractions that cause me to be less present with my family.
  • Less rested than before.
  • The feeling of an invisible pressure to produce and perform.
  • Emotional ties to likes and follows that I know in my logical mind are of no value, but my illogical and emotional mind have fallen prey to…
  • More holding of my phone throughout the day and in front of others.
  • Less time spent on writing and more time spent on trying to figure out how to market on and simply use social media.
  • Anxiety in my heart and mind.
  • Inability to slow down.
  • A visibly disgruntled (although patient and supportive) family hungry for more of my attention.
  • People no longer asking me for life updates as readily in person… me no longer asking for life updates as readily in person.
  • A continued disenchantment with social media, realizing authenticity is hard to find there.
  • A busier mind and heart. It’s harder to quiet my spirit before the Lord.
  • More impulsive spending.
  • A temptation to covet.
  • A deep desire to leave social media and pursue writing in a completely different way.

For me, the benefits of not being on social media simply outweigh the benefits of being on social media.

When I was off social media, I told many people that I could not imagine coming back to the platforms. Having been back on the platforms over the past few months, I must agree with my 2020 self… for me and my heart, it’s better to be off the platforms—writing goals or not—so, I’m saying “sayonara” once again.

What does this mean for my writing and my projects forthcoming?

Well, I will continue to write… and I imagine the quality of my writing will greatly benefit from my break with the myriad of distractions on social media.

If you are one of my precious (and few) readers… I so value your time spent on my works. Here is how you can keep up with me…

I will be posting articles full of testimony, lessons learned, interviews and sisterly advice on my website at www.reagan-reynolds.com and you can always visit me there at your leisure. Each article will continue to include an audio recording for those of you who prefer to listen in.

Or, if you prefer, you can let me come to you…

I will be sending a quarterly newsletter that will include the following:

  • A brief personal update on my experiences pursuing the writerly life.
  • A curated list of my recently published articles.
  • Announcements to new original Bible reading resources (I will soon be providing a reading guide for Genesis Chapters 1-11 created for new readers or returning readers of the Bible) – these resources will always be free.
  • Links to new Parent/Child Reading Guides for Young Adult classic fiction (These resources will assist parents in leveraging fiction to jumpstart deep discussions about our complicated world with their children.)
  • Announcements for original short Christian fiction audiobooks for kids, published to Audible.

If any of those forthcoming assets would be of interest to you, please sign up for email list below. I really look forward to a clearer mind and deeper in-person interactions to help inform what I bring to my readers in the future.

I can not say enough how much I appreciate you and how I would truly love to hear from you. If you feel so inclined, please drop me a note on the Contact page.

With joy (& a social sayonara),

R

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