Posts
Hannah Morrell
Forgetfulness and Fear

I forget a lot of things especially when I’m afraid. I suppose a lot of us do. We revert back to running and hiding under the bed covers, trusting in them to save us from our fear. We forget who our God is, and what He has promised. I have been reading a lot about the people of Israel in the Old Testament, and I am reminded of my own forgetfulness as I see them witness incredible miracles and then turn away from God within days.

I fear darkness, and forget that Jesus is the Light of the world. I fear evil and forget that Jesus took away the power of evil forces through His death and resurrection. I fear Satan and demons, and forget that they are not more powerful than God. I fear pain, and forget that Jesus walks through pain and death with me. I fear being alone, and forget that I am never abandoned or forsaken by my Shepherd. I fear messing up, and forget that God doesn’t love me because I finally got it all right, but rather empowers me to do anything He calls me to. I fear curses spoken over me, and forget that the Cursebreaker Himself canceled all curses and they have power no more. I fear sickness and physical issues, and forget that the Healer heals us in all sorts of ways and it may not look like I expected. I fear loss and grief, and forget that my constant companion is a Man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, and has no impatience for my emotion.

Forgetfulness and Fear
Posts
Hannah Morrell
Sweet Dependence

This year has not gone like I thought it would in so many ways—probably many of you have experienced the same. But today God reminded me that He has been teaching me about dependence, and kind of gave me a heads up that was where we were going this year! My verse for the year was Proverbs 3:5-6, and it’s been on repeat throughout the year.

I keep forgetting, though, and assuming I can do this life by myself. I realize I often don’t trust God, and do rely on my own opinions (even though that’s never helped me). I don’t rely on Him to guide me, and don’t look to Him as my Shepherd throughout decisions. But He is faithful to keep putting me in impossible situations where I remember.

None of us can do this life alone. We don’t have the wisdom, strength, patience, or love to walk in loving enemies, having hope in hopeless situations, or experiencing peace that makes no sense given the situation. God has all of that, and He is the one we get to depend on for this to blossom and grow in us. Whenever I get overwhelmed, it’s because I have decided it’s all up to me and God isn’t doing a thing about it.

Sweet Dependence
Posts
Hannah Morrell
The Surrounding Battles

I was thinking about David the other day, you know, the kid who took on a giant and won? I was thinking about how without human support he was as he faced down impossible odds. His dad sent him to take food to his brothers, implying he wasn’t strong enough to be a warrior and was only good for delivering food. His brothers mocked him for his curiosity about why everyone was hiding. He hadn’t forgotten who he was, or who their God was, but when he brought it up, he was met with dismissal and derision. His king tried to give him his armor, once again a demonstration that he was too small and insignificant to do any of these crazy stuff he was threatening. But he went anyway. He knew who God had made him to be, and he knew who his God was through him. Don’t let the rejection or scorn of others define who you are or who your God is.

David didn’t fight Goliath like the giant wanted him to do. Jamie Winship pointed out in a talk recently that David didn’t try to go wrestle him or fight him with a sword. He didn’t let the enemy determine how the battle was fought. He stood in his identity and the training God had led him through as a shepherd on the hillside with his sheep—he needed a sling and some rocks. Don’t let the situation dictate how the battle should be fought.

The Surrounding Battles
Posts
Hannah Morrell
Not Growing Weary

One of my husband’s firefighter friends had a terrible accident a couple of weeks ago, falling 50 feet in a training exercise and suffering traumatic brain injury along with lots of other wounds. One of the crew has been sending out updates on his status as he remained in the hospital and they evaluated spinal cord injuries, brain function, etc. He is on a positive trend, but the wins are so small that you can miss them sometimes. The thing that struck me was the update from the firefighter in which he said that the doctor had told him they need to compare things week-to-week rather than day-to-day. When we examine the wins and losses for one day, it can seem negative or nonexistent. But when we compare where he was a week ago to where he is today, there is a positive trajectory that displays growth and healing.

Not Growing Weary
Posts
Hannah Morrell
Battling Discouragement

Several years ago, I received an email from a brother in Christ reprimanding me for saying that followers of Jesus could be discouraged or anxious. He tried to tell me that I was wrong for suggesting it, and that couldn’t be part of the believers’ experiences. I wanted to respond in anger, maybe trying to fight back for all the amazing people I have worked with who struggle with these things and not because they are messing up. Instead, God directed me to sit in the Psalms for a while, seeing the pattern so often with David of despair and hopelessness turning to new hope and encouragement.

Psalm 42 is a great illustration of this pattern, and I recently went through it again to look for David’s process in dealing with his own discouragement. I think so often we see discouragement as the end, rather than another place to hear from God and walk back through His faithfulness to a place of encouragement. Here are the steps that I see David taking in moving from darkness to light.

Battling Discouragement

listening

Learning to Listen

Learning to Listen

When I was in grad school, I had a teacher who taught a class called “Counseling Skills” or something to that effect. I kind of rolled my eyes when I realized I had to take that class, because I had the arrogance to believe I knew how to listen, how to care, and how to communicate compassion already and didn’t need a class to help me. The lesson in humility, though, was not given through the class material itself, but by the professor. This man walked in to talk to a bunch of new students who were all prospective counselors, and approached with such gentleness it stopped me in my illusions of grandeur and made me pay attention.

In thinking back to this kind man, I realize that he taught me how to listen because he actually listened in class. Sure, he taught the lessons, but then he would calmly entertain questions and treat each student with such value and worth that you instantly felt like you mattered—even if your question was really stupid. He never looked like he was trying to come up with an answer while listening, but would take the question with a minute of consideration so he could truly take in everything the person was saying.

I came to find out throughout the semester that this man was dying of cancer. He didn’t tell us, but once in a while when he would have to miss class, the substitute informed us that he would be doing that occasionally when he didn’t feel he could have enough strength to teach. And yet, there was never a demand for respect or honor, but a continued communication of his students’ value as he approached with gentleness. I watched him deteriorate throughout the semester, and attended his funeral the next year after he went to be with Jesus face-to-face. I remember thinking how it must feel for him to be present with the One his soul loved so much, and who had always listened to him.

The Wilderness

The Wilderness

Several years ago, my husband and I were camping in Moab, Utah with our one-year-old son. Camping is probably a generous term—we did have a pop-up camper and weren’t really roughing it. We did, however, drive about half an hour outside of town on a dirt road to the middle of nowhere, and then parked the camper at the top of a rocky hill. The views were spectacular, and we would only see another car on the dirt road about once every few hours. It was a little taste of the wilderness, with only us and our little camper. No cell service, no toilets, and no other people around.

This seemed like a fantastic experience until we decided the next day to head back into town to get a few groceries. After piling in the truck, my husband tried to start the vehicle, but it wouldn’t start. The truck’s battery was dead. And the wilderness experience that seemed like a lot of fun became quite scary.

I started to panic, wondering how we would ever get out of there. No cars came by on the road, and it was at least a day’s walk to get back into town with a one-year-old and only so much food for camping. Finally after a bit of worry, my husband brilliantly figured out that he could use the camper batteries to jump the truck battery, and we were finally moving again.

But what about the figurative wildernesses in which we find ourselves where we can’t figure a way out, and we sit and wait with no resources and no hope? Wildernesses are a real experience in life, and one which often catches us by surprise. I’m not sure why, as so many of the people in the Bible went through years and years of wilderness, sometimes figurative and sometimes quite literal. There are stories of prison, hardships, desert-living, wandering, frustration, hopelessness, disbursement and aching for home.

Walking with the broken to find hope in Jesus