Book Review: Get Out of That Pit

10th Anniversary Edition of Get Out of That Pit by Beth Moore

I’m not sure how I happened onto a list where I can be offered books to read in exchange for a review, but it’s a list I’m happy to be on,  and we are kicking it off with a book that’s been around for a while.

Thomas Nelson just did a 10th anniversary print of Beth Moore’s Get Out of That Pit. While I don’t follow Moore closely, I have always enjoyed the snippets of talks or studies that I have come across in the past.

In the pages of Get Out of That Pit, Moore shares from her own personal journey and from studying Scripture about what a pit is, how we find ourselves in them, and how to get out. As someone else who is pretty familiar with the pits and found herself pit dwelling by all three ways described in the book, I found her words encouraging and practical. No matter how we ended up in the pit, we do NOT have to stay there. That is good news!!

The book is easy to follow and sprinkled with humor. The chapters are a manageable size and not overwhelming, and at the back of the book some daily Scripture prayers are offered if you need a little boost or springboard for figuring out what or how to pray. There are also reflection and application questions for each chapter, which is perfect for personal study or if you want to do a group study.

A few times in the book the humor felt a little forced to me, but overall I enjoyed Get Out of That Pit and think it would make a great book to tackle in a small group.

Disclaimer: I was provided a free copy of Get Out of That Pit in return for my honest review. All thoughts and opinions expressed here are my own.

thoughts on freedom

When I see this little canvas in the corner of my room, I am reminded again of Ukraine’s history, how they have been conquered and ruled time and again, how the people are strong and resilient.

This painting emerged one night as revolution rang in the streets and sniper bullets had rained downtown. A measure of uncertainty fell like a blanket over all our lives.

This small work isn’t fancy and would never be praised for its show of skill and mastery, but it is meaningful to me. It reminds me that freedom comes at great cost.

Over the last several years there have been times I’ve been tempted to add to this canvas and try to make it more sophisticated, not quite so I could have created this elementary school looking, but I just can’t bring myself to do it.

I think most of the time the process to freedom doesn’t come out looking the way we thought it would or think it should. We want to cover up the parts that look childish or like mistakes, but the truth is that those moments are part of the freedom journey, too, and shouldn’t be discounted.

Yesterday was the celebration of our independence here in America. For most of us it was probably a day of food, friends, and fireworks. The fourth of July is also meant as a reminder of the freedoms we so often take for granted and the sacrifices that made a way for those freedoms.

Whether we are looking for freedom in our nation, in our relationships, in our bodies, or in our spiritual lives, there is a price. There is always a price. There are choices that must be made, there are difficult actions that must be taken, and we must be aware that freedom comes with great responsibility. Freedom is never passive.

“It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery.” Galatians 5:1 NIV

Though battles rage all around us, hope remains, love conquers fear, and we have a promise of true freedom in Jesus Christ. It is through Him alone that hope remains alive and active in our world. We can find ourselves not enslaved to the whim of tyranny, but able to live free of fear. And if we find ourselves free, then we have an obligation to share that freedom with others.

Contempt for the Miraculous (or When God’s Provision Isn’t What You Want)

A few years ago I was part of a team that traveled around the world. One of the first things we were asked to do as a group was pick a name, and in all our great wisdom we chose Manna.

It sounds all biblical and really great when you think about manna being food from Heaven described as tasting like a delightful honey wafer delicacy (Exodus 16:31) and being provided by God. BUT…
Our first clue should have been that the name manna itself came from people asking, “Man-hu?” or “What is it?” (Exodus 16:15), and from the very beginning I think it is fair to say we looked at our team of seven and felt very much like, “What in the world?”

There were no automatic bestie statuses happening or celebration for this provision; it was more akin to groaning and gnashing of teeth. More than one of us tried to get out, me included. Surely the leadership and God had made some mistake in this Manna.

Recently, I re-read the account of manna in Numbers and just haven’t been able to get away from it. The Israelites seemed to think God had messed up with their manna, too, and didn’t approve of God’s choices in provision.

Listening to the Riffraff

“The riffraff among the people had a craving and soon they had the People of Israel whining, “Why can’t we have meat? We ate fish in Egypt – and got it free! – to say nothing of the cucumbers and melons, the leeks and onions and garlic. But nothing tastes good out here; all we get is manna, manna, manna.” (Numbers 11:4-6 MSG)

It was “the riffraff among the people” that started this grumbling. This mixed group was comprised of Egyptians and others that had joined with the Israelites, and God’s people faltered when they began listening to and complaining along with them.

Instead of standing in thankfulness and faith from all they had already experienced of God’s goodness and provision, the Israelites lifted their voices up with the rabble, thereby declaring that what God had given wasn’t good enough. They began to take a rose-colored journey back through the past and suddenly Egypt looked oh so good.

Remembering what God has done for us and where He brought us out of from a place of thankfulness is wisdom, but touring memory lane with a fondness for our place of former bondage leads back to more bondage.

Trading Freedom

“We ate fish in Egypt – and got it free!” How quickly the Israelites forgot the enslavement of that former land and that nothing there was truly free, because they themselves had no freedom.

Would they really be willing to trade freedom for food? It seems crazy. It is crazy! BUT this isn’t the first time we encounter a trade driven by a food craving.

Remember in Genesis 25:19-34 when Esau gave up his birthright for a bowl of stew? Or back all the way up to Adam and Eve and the fruit off the tree. It seems we have been making decisions with eternal weight based on the cravings of our bellies and the whisperings of discontent since the Garden of Eden.

Cravings can cause us to view even miraculous provision from God as inadequate, and can bring us to a place where we willingly trade our inheritance for a fleeting feeling!

Familiarity and Entitlement

I think the people of Israel began to view their miraculous provision as something they were entitled to. This sustaining bread from Heaven showed up every single day and as the saying goes, “familiarity breeds contempt.”

When I traveled overseas in 2009, I ate so many forms of rice and beans that when I returned home I wouldn’t touch them,  and that was just after 11 months. It wasn’t even what I ate every day for every meal, although it sometimes felt that way.

Can you imagine day after day eating the same thing? Manna, manna, manna.

I’m sure I would be there saying, “Give us something different! Come on God, we know you’re more creative than this. How about a buffet of choices that will appeal to everyone? If you truly loved us, God, you would give us more than just this manna.”

With my travel companions, Team Manna, we got to know each other really well over those 11 months. Teammates were always around, even when you didn’t want them to be. It was great sometimes, but other times I wanted something different. It was uncomfortable and simply maddening. Other teams seemed to have it better, and why shouldn’t we get a say in this matter?

I mean, if we believe we are entitled to something, then we also expect it to be what we want, don’t we? It is this entitlement mentality that breeds contempt.

The focus turns to ourselves and our cravings, rather than to God and His best. We reduce the miraculous to just another entitlement, and we treat it as contemptible because it isn’t fulfilling our selfish wants and desires.

The point of the miraculous is never simply just about the miracle and it isn’t about us. Those awe inspiring acts are meant to point us to our amazing, all-powerful, creative, and loving God.

So what keeps us from snubbing our noses at the ways of God?

Giving Thanks Even In The Wilderness

It can be easy to listen to and join with the riffraff. Their doubts and fears about the goodness and trustworthiness of God can often be loud and hard to push past, especially when they echo our own unspoken doubts and fears.

Therefore, let us offer through Jesus a continual sacrifice of praise to God, proclaiming our allegiance to his name. And don’t forget to do good and to share with those in need. These are the sacrifices that please God. (Hebrews 13:15–16)

Giving thanks can be hard, a sacrifice even.  1 Thessalonians 5:8 tells us we are to “give thanks in all circumstances.” That’s every single circumstance.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve had some points where it didn’t look like there was a lot to be thankful for and my melancholy Eeyore natural disposition doesn’t make it any easier. That still does not change the fact that we are called to give thanks no matter what.

The wilderness can be tough. The very definition of a wilderness means it’s an uncultivated and inhospitable region. We may have to pass through the wilderness, but we were never supposed to remain in it. We can be thankful because if God is leading us through the wilderness, He will most certainly provide.

The nature of the wilderness requires leaning into God and I dare say even expecting His miraculous provision to make it through. We must remember this provision is never because of our entitlement; it is because of His love and care and what He knows is for the best to glorify Him.

A Choice to Make

With Team Manna, we had to learn to lay down our wants and entitlements. It wasn’t easy and some days were certainly better than others. It definitely doesn’t rank high on my fun scale, but God knew exactly what each of us on that team really needed and He is after our hearts, not our comfort.

After a long struggle, we came together and repented and began to thank God for each other instead of wishing and longing for something or someone different. We learned to choose to love, to be thankful, and to trust God and each other. Team Manna truly became family, and all these years later I find that I miss them and am truly thankful for them.

If we choose to focus on what we perceive is lacking, then we follow the footsteps of those complaining about the manna. And if you read Numbers 11:33-34 you’ll see that didn’t turn out so well.

“But while they were still chewing the quail and had hardly swallowed the first bites, God’s anger blazed out against the people. He hit them with a terrible plague.They ended up calling the place Kibroth Hattaavah (Graves-of-the-Craving). There they buried the people who craved meat.”

I don’t think anyone of us want to treat God or His provision with disdain. Cultivating a thankful heart helps to keep us from doing that.


Instead of letting the riffraff sway people into a place of destruction, let us be the ones who point people to the goodness of God. Just as complaining tends to spread, so does an attitude of gratitude.

Words kill, words give life;
    they’re either poison or fruit—you choose.
Proverbs 18:21 (MSG)

Despite what we see, despite what we feel, despite what we think we desire or believe is best, God knows what is up ahead and His provision is never the wrong provision and it is always on time.

We don’t have to be people who live and die by cravings. We can be ones who stand and say, “Thank you God for this provision. I don’t understand, and I don’t have to. I know You are faithful and we can put our trust in You.”

Our God is still a God of miracles. His answer to our needs may not be what we desire. We may look at it and say, “But what is it?!” and that’s okay.

May we choose to look back on the places God has brought us from, the places He parted seas and impossible situations in our life already, and look at this place and if necessary say, “I don’t understand, but thank you for providing. Not my will, but yours be done.”

Bezalel Got Skill

The process of creating, expressing, and courageously hoping and sharing with the world, isn’t that what art is?

It comes in forms such  as painting, poetry, movies, theatre, dance, but also many others. It touches our hearts, minds, and souls.

It makes us question. It causes us to move. It brings us to see beauty in places we wouldn’t have otherwise.

I love to consider God as the Creator, dreaming up and forming all that we see that is beautiful and daily creating masterpieces small and great.

One of my favorite spots in the Bible is Exodus for so many reasons, but here is one of them:

Then the Lord said to Moses,  “See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills—  to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts. Moreover, I have appointed Oholiab son of Ahisamak, of the tribe of Dan, to help him. Also I have given ability to all the skilled workers to make everything I have commanded you” (Exodus 31:1-6 NIV)

It’s like the first artistic commissioning. The Spirit of God gave those artists the wisdom, understanding, knowledge, and skills they needed to create what He desired for the Tabernacle.

When I read this I hear God saying there is room for artistic skill in the place of worship and that artists are needed to use those skills in glorifying Him!

“To send light into the darkness of men’s hearts – such is the duty of the artist.”  Schumann

Sometimes the arts seem like a less than job or calling. That whole starving artist persona doesn’t exactly scream, “What I do matters and is appreciated.” But the arts can be powerful, and work formed by someone gifted by God and with a desire to use their skills for Him can change perspectives and lives and culture.

When I think of my Ukrainian friends, one of the characteristics that always stands out is how creatively minded and skilled they are. It is something I deeply appreciate about the culture and I believe God wants to use that creativity to show Ukrainians and the world His love.

Creating, expressing, and courageously hoping and sharing God’s love with the world

The arts is not a less than job or calling. The arts are powerful and godly artists are needed to speak for those who have no voice, to paint the possibilities for those who feel hopeless, to dance the chains off the enslaved, and remind us all that God cannot be contained in boxes. 


The Days I Hate

The rain falls heavy outside and seeps through the roof into my haven,  the dripping reminding me that what I try to keep out is always coming for me. The dark grey matches my mood as the whisperings of anxiety hurl their accusations into my ear. My face burns and my heart breaks at the realization that these days always seem to find me.

One foot in front of the other seems like trudging through quicksand. Each movement of attempted escape only feels like a weight pulling me under.

The fear, the old fear, raises its serpent head and lunges at me, and though it misses I wonder for just how long. Continue reading “The Days I Hate”

Reflections Between Sneezing

Currently all the fur babies in the house are curled up asleep, and I’m left alone with my box of tissues and this infernal cold I woke up with this morning. I had grand plans for my day off all which were tossed aside and traded for pajamas and hot tea.

It’s been a while since I wrote anything. I did some traveling to Georgia, got older, the site was down for a while, picked up a temporary job, and then I celebrated the holidays with family. There’s a newsletter coming at some point, really there is.

2016 hasn’t really been what I hoped in a lot of ways, and keeping up with the news has sometimes felt like watching an episode of The Twilight Zone. My day alone and feeling under the weather has afforded me a few moments of reflection. (I’d like to say quiet reflection buy my sneezing is anything but quiet.) Continue reading “Reflections Between Sneezing”

Life and Language Learning

Language learning and I have a rocky past together.

In high school I took Spanish, because there really weren’t a lot of options in Nash county, NC. I can still recite the alphabet quite well, but all else is long forgotten.

In Community College I attempted French, because it’s supposed to be romantic. Alas, that venture ended when I responded to my French teacher in Spanish one morning. (Why are language classes always in the morning?!)

At Emmanuel College, I tried my hand at Greek, because I was going to be a good biblical scholar who could read and understand an earlier text than King Jimmy’s version of what went down. I gave that one up to have a social life and so my best friends wouldn’t kill me. Sorry God.

I swore off languages for forever, and then I moved to Ukraine. But it was okay because I worked for an English ministry and attended an English speaking church. Really not a lot of incentive there for the linguistically challenged.

However, my last year in country I tackled the Russian language head on. My teacher understood me and went out of her way to help me wrap my head around the complexities. She also scolded me for my constant lack of speaking because I desired perfection. Again and again and again and again she chided me because I was afraid to mess up.

Oh, God, how that applies to so many areas of my life.

Therein lies the heart of my problem with linguistics, I’m afraid to mess up. And if you’re learning a language it is simply inevitable. I mess up the English language daily and I’ve been speaking that one my whole verbally communicating life.

So really, it’s pretty ridiculous to try to learn (anything) without failing.
I was actually starting to enjoy Russian when life took an unexpected turn and I found myself back on American soil indefinitely. And y’all I do not have the discipline to tackle language learning alone.

Now, I’m heading back to Ukraine. This time, however, I’m in a different city and a different church and my role will be different, and all those things include a different language. So because God has a grand sense of humor, I now need to know Ukrainian. IMG_6030

And because I’ve spent the last six years praying for a miraculous gift of speaking and understanding both Russian and Ukrainian and that miracle has sadly not transpired, last week I started Ukrainian language lessons.

Within five minutes I had read off something perfectly… in Russian. My teacher laughed. I laughed. In fact, in our two Skype lessons so far there has been a lot of laughter, because one of the letters that shows up everywhere my mouth just has a hard time forming.

And I’ve decided that maybe laughter is the best way to go about it this time around. I’m going to mess it up.

The language isn’t all I’m going to mess up in Ukraine and in life. I’m certain I’ll get a LOT more things wrong along the way,

Because life is a lot like trying to learn a foreign language, and perfection is completely unrealistic.

When I demand perfection of myself, I hate whatever it is that I’m trying to do. It becomes this unconquerable obstacle in my way, and I’m NEVER good enough. I end up full of fear and shame and regret and all the yuck, because I’m placing something on myself that nobody else is even expecting.

I know those who feel like they could never go to God until x, y, and z have been taken care of, until they’ve made their messes look presentable, or until they think they could stick with Him and walk it all out perfectly. But thankfully He doesn’t require that, or none of us would have a chance.

But it does require vulnerability. Language learning requires it and so does relationships and life, if you’re going to do it well.

It means admitting that maybe I don’t have it as all together as I want you to believe. That maybe I need help. It means admitting that I’m probably going to mess up again and probably this week and probably the same thing I just said I wouldn’t mess up again, because even though I understand there’s a difference, I still can’t seem to implement it yet.

Through it all, I’m really thankful for grace and for laughter.

And I apologize in advance to all my Ukrainian speaking friends.

Pass the Tissues

I’ve gone through so many tissues in the last couple of weeks that I should probably just buy stock in Kleenex.

It reminds me of when I was an intern at IHOP-ATL and my friend Christy and I joked around about owning our own tree farm so we could at least raise some support money from all the tears.

  • One of the kids wanting me to spend time with them – pass the tissues.
  • Movies or TV shows or, let’s face it, commercials – pass the tissues.
  • Trying to figure out how to get all my stuff across country – panic, then pass the tissues.
  • The struggles and hardships that just come with life in a fallen world – pass the tissues.
  • Someone saying they are praying about my return to Ukraine or want to support me – pass the tissues.
  • Just pass the whole box, maybe two. Aloe, please.

Yep, I’m a mess.

Somewhere in the last two years this chaotic, creative, conglomeration of cultures known as Los Angeles grew on me and made me love it.

And don’t even get me started on this crazy family that has taken me in and let me be part of their crew and loved me in the unlovable and encouraged me to dream and believe that God could really use a me for a place and people on the other side of the world.

Sometimes I’m a little envious of those who get to stay in one place with their family and friends close to them. It’s hard to have your heart scattered all over the world, but then it means you have family no matter where you land.

You’re blessed when the tears flow freely. Joy comes with the morning.
~ Luke 6:21 (MSG)


But for real.

Some of those free flowing tears lately have come from very real, very hard places of not understanding life and death and war and injustice and timing, but a lot of those salty rivers are just simply from love and that there is just never enough time. I’ll have this same problem when the time comes to leave Georgia and North Carolina and Kiev. Don’t worry, I love all of you all too!

It’s a good problem to have, and I know there is joy coming.

There is the joy of meeting up with friends and family on the east coast and hearing all that has been happening in their lives these last couple of years. There is the joy of returning to Ukraine and getting to know the young adults I’ll be working with there and seeing how God will touch lives.

And there is the joy of all the unknown little surprises that lie ahead, but for now just pass those tissues my way because I feel some tears welling up again.

If you’re interested in the latest update on that return to Ukraine, click here to see the most recent newsletter.

If you know you want to support with a one-time gift or be a monthly support, tax deductible giving can be made throughRe-Generation:

online through PayPal to email address

Under the “Write a Note (optional)” you can just indicate “Ukraine” and if it’s one-time or on-going.

or by check with a separate note attached indicating it’s for Ukraine to:
1905 N. Wilcox Avenue, Suite 219
Hollywood, CA 90068

You can also keep up to date through my Facebook page, here.

Confessions of Someone Who’ll Never Be a Beauty Queen

I know that I’m not a conventional beauty. No one is ever going to beg me for a photo shoot or probably even for a date. My teeth are too crowded and I love coffee too much for them to stay pearly white. My tummy refuses to be flat, because  I like potato chips more than I’m willing to commit to ab workouts. I have no chest, and my voice sounds like the hound on The Fox and the Hound or a congested kid. And don’t get me started on hair products and makeup, because they just completely confound me.

Even if I had “the looks,” I’m just kind of an awkward human being.

I also keep somehow living in these places that are known for beautiful people, like Ukraine and Los Angeles. It can be a real self-esteem crusher.

I have cute toes. That has to count for something, right?

Toes in the Sand

Hold On A Sec..

You may think this is too harsh, or maybe you’re like, “I can’t believe she just said that.”  But those are some of the nasty little thoughts that confront me on a pretty consistent basis, like most every time I look in the mirror.

They are annoying and thought consuming and, frankly, I’m sick and tired of them.

While there are a million things going on in the world that are horrible and in need of attention, I also know that I’m not the only one that struggles with the mirror on the wall.

Some days I can brush it off, say “Shut up!” and go about the day. Other days it’s crushing, and the heavy cloud it brings darkens the atmosphere around me.

I can give you the good Christian girl answer…

“For the Lord does not see as man sees; for man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” – 1 Samuel 16:7 NKJV

I mean that’s pretty clear cut even for the New King James Version.

Or this one…

“What matters is not your outer appearance — the styling of your hair, the jewelry you wear, the cut of your clothes — but your inner disposition..” – 1 Peter 3:3 MSG

Again, pretty straightforward, which I appreciate; the inner is more important than the outer.

I get it, and I’m sure you’ve heard it, too.

We can all think of people that are drop dead gorgeous in appearance and are really not beautiful at all because of the atrocious way they treat others. And I’m sure we’ve all met more than one person that the world wouldn’t give a second glance at in the outward beauty category, but they radiate nonetheless.

It clearly isn’t all about physical  attributes.

So why is this such a struggle for so many of us?

Because comparison is such a nagging, little demon that just needs to be splatted against the nearest wall.

When I find myself struggling with my lack of conventional beauty, I’m not looking at what God says. I’m looking at the cultural norms I see around me. Which, when I think about how messed up the world is, it honestly seems pretty ridiculous to even want to be what culture says I should be. Culture and the world isn’t all bad, but clearly there are some bad priorities happening.

But what I know is true and what I think and feel just don’t always sync up.

Until it does sync up I have to keep choosing to believe and trusting what God says and asking for a perspective change. Some  days it’s an easy decision, and other times it’s a whole lot harder.

All I know today is that part of me would still like to be a conventional beauty, but when have I ever done anything the conventional way. Good thing I have such a winning personality…