Author: Tina Simmons

  • God’s so great. Happy to wait!

    God’s so great. Happy to wait!

    God is so good, and His timing is perfect!! Even His “waits” can be full of excitement!

    As I say this, I am in a weird (but wonderful) moment of waiting. When God led me to write last year, I was amazed that He would choose to use me that way. Just when I’d gotten used to the idea of being a writer, and was working on the next project, I felt really sure that God had pushed the pause button. This was not writer’s block. It was very clearly a “full stop”. I immediately thought, “Oooo God must have something different in mind.” And not, “Whaaaa, what am I going to do????” (Thank you Holy Spirit for your hard work in sanctification. I know I’m a hard one to work with sometimes.) But God has led me to new ideas, and He has pointed me toward new learning since then. I am still waiting to see just what He will do with all of this, but let me just say—Our God is always up to something new and wonderful. When I think back to all last year brought—

    —I am stunned! But when I look at where He seems to be leading me now—wow!! I trust in His good plans, and I am committed to waiting for His direction. For now, He has paused my second book. I feel certain that He will bring me back to it when I’ve completed what He has for this season. There is so much joy in trusting Him to guide our “what’s nexts”!! I thought I’d share the opening for this second book (release to be determined! PTL!). Please pray that He will guide me, and that I will be obedient. Again, thanks for joining me in this beautiful new place!

    Holy Assumptions: Renewing Our Minds to Love Like Christ

    Introduction

    Have you noticed the sunsets lately? At least once a week, someone I know posts a photo of a sunset that captivates my imagination and sets me off to praising God for His artistry. I’m not sure if they are really becoming more and more dramatic as time draws nearer to Jesus’s return, or if I simply appreciate everything more as I age. My house sits atop a hill that faces west. We have a big porch bed and rocking chairs on the long front porch. Looking out across the yard, we can see for miles—no houses, only trees and sky in the valley below (oh, and a distant highway, but I choose to look past that). When the golden hour comes, we often pour some sweet tea, sit in the rocking chairs, and gaze at the new artwork God has created for us. Sometimes, the sky looks like it is on fire—a glowing red—blazing across the horizon and the sun a flaming orange ball that still burns bright, claiming its last moment of majesty before slipping off to bed. Other times, the soft pinks, blues, and yellows swirl around in a mist—a peaceful prelude to sleepy nighttime prayers. And then there are all of the variations in between—soft pastels splintered by vivid turquoise streaks—like God changed his mind at the last second and decided to jazz this one up a bit,  just to keep things interesting. I cannot look at one of His sunsets without thinking, Wow!! That’s my God!

    But the other day, I got to wondering if painting the sky is fun for Him.  Does He love to do it simply because He cannot withhold His love from us when we think to look up? Does He love to take our breath away with His majesty? Or are the heavens praising God because we forget to? 

    His majesty is easy to recognize in the sunset and the mountain peaks. We can see it in the stars of night, in the cool evening breeze, and in the glistening sea. But do we see His majesty in His most loved creation? Oh, it is there to be sure. When He made us, it was not a simple, “Let there be…” (if you can call anything simple that springs from the Almighty). No, when He made us, it was a “Let us make.” The Holy Trinity, Father, Son, and Spirit collaborating together to make us in their image. So, yes…the sunset should pale in comparison to what we see when we behold their favored creation, the one that was made with more than intent…the one that was made through and for love. 

    When the light coming through the windows of my house shifts, and I know sunset has begun, I grab that sweet tea and my husband and head to the porch fully expecting to see something beautiful—something that only God could produce. And so it should be when I look at one of His favored creations. I should fully expect to see something grand. I should be waiting with anticipation, being careful not to miss it. I should be looking at each one of His kids with holy assumptions. 

  • Just Do What She Did

    A whirl of color brought me out of my daze—a dust devil—red, gold, and green—up into the dry air, and then gone in a flutter. From the porch bed, I focused my eyes to actually see for the first time in weeks; could it really be fall? How have I not noticed?

    Fall in Alabama is always persnickety. We swelter, and then we shiver, but any pleasant in-between weather seems to elude us. Maybe it’s because we are usually so caught up in football that we just don’t have time to notice comfort—discomfort is much more noticeable, and it’s easier to talk about. We go from hotter ‘n blue blazes to freezin’ our tails off in a blink. September and October usually mean pumpkins and tank tops around our place—but not this year. This year was waiting rooms, fluorescent lights and sweatshirts, huddled together over prayer and tears. A quick check of my phone confirms it is November, and a new weight—the weight of the holidays—settles promptly into my shoulders. How will I do it without her? She was the glue. She was the heart of our family and what tied it all together around turkey and dressing, sweet potato casserole and so many desserts—the familiar chorus of, “I’m jus’ gonna take a little of each” echoing around the room. 

    Maybe we should just sit this one out—just skip Thanksgiving and Christmas this year. But no…that thought does not get far before I hear deep in my soul, “No, that will not do. Come to me and let me help you.” And so I pray. I cannot pray with words right now; instead it is just please…please, Lord, help me. When I open my eyes, the world looks a bit more in focus, and I decide to face it head on. Afterall, that is what Giggy would do—it is what she did in every trial, in every loss; this strong woman who stepped in to raise us would bow her head, dig in her feet, and push on, and so that is what I declare over this month. I will follow her example—I will carry on.

    Quickly, while I still have the gumption, I text the family: “thanksgiving usual time but at my place im takin care of the food.”And then, “dont even think about skippin it she would want us all together.” I have two weeks. Two weeks to figure it all out and find a way back to joy.

    I actually slept that night for the first time in I don’t know when, but it was a funny kind of sleep—heavy but somehow conscious. I found myself seeking rest through God instead of the kind of “escape from life sleep” I’d craved for so many months. All through the night, the thought just do what she did swirled in my mind between spans of tranquil slumber. I awoke with newness of mission and the sense that God had spoken. I was supposed to just do what she did. So, I threw on some clothes, grabbed my keys and headed over to her house to get the book.

    I had not prepared myself for Giggy’s kitchen. As the screen door snapped behind me, I fell to my knees. I could see her in every corner. Grease poppin’ on the stove, dishtowel slung over her shoulder, and her greeting of, “Come on—jus’ get in here, girl!” Oh, God…help me! How many times have I held her hand at that table, smelling the delicious food that was all laid out, and wishing she could just pray faster—I’m going to starve before she’s done. But nothing rushed her time with the Lord. We would eat when she was finished. My instinct is to grab the book and run. I need to get out of here; this place just hurts too much. I can smell her. When I close my eyes, I can feel her hugs—hugs that threatened to hurt a little because they held so much love. I pray another, help me and go to the cupboard where Giggy’s book lives. Just do what she did. 

    The bulging, red gingham Better Homes and Gardens cookbook was held together by silver duct tape down the spine and a large rubber band around the middle. There were as many random sheets of paper protruding around the edges as there were original recipes in the book. It was an icon of my childhood, always there but taking center stage during the holidays. How in the world will I even find the recipes much less cook them? I opened the book to a random page and laughed when I saw, “Yuck!” written at the top. I flipped through a few more to find comments like, “Alright”— “Not worth it”— “Lucy’s favorite” and “Joe hates this.” 

    The index revealed several family favorites. I decided to snap pictures of the recipes and leave the book here where it belongs. I got quick pics of green bean casserole, pumpkin and pecan pie, as well as Giggy’s specialty—orange pineapple cake, but the most important recipes were nowhere to be found. The dressing and the turkey, if she wrote them down at all, they must be on one of the scraps of paper sticking out willy-nilly around the edges. This will take awhile. I would have to take Giggy’s book home.

    The book seemed different in the light of my little kitchen. Its charm now broken—reverence dashed like a thrift store photo. Oh, how I want to do this later. Today has already been enough. But I hear once again, just do what she did, and so I open the book to the first added page. It is a piece of yellow paper from a legal pad, folded in half and stuck just behind the front cover. Tears spring to my eyes as I open it and read, “Dear Lord, How can I do this thing that you want me to do? I don’t know anything about kids…wouldn’t they be better off with a nice couple instead? Don’t they need a daddy? —But in all things, your will be done. I trust you. Romans 8:28.” 

    That night I received the gift of peace and the restoration of joy. I came to know the heart, the fear and the faith of the one who never failed me—the one who was tough as nails and tender to the core. Every scrap of paper told the story of my family—a testimony of faith and promises fulfilled. Every trial, every worry, every need was poured out to God. Because He was faithful, we learned to love. And then once again, a small, still voice reminds—just do what she did.

  • Questioning God

    Questioning God

    I had a conversation with a friend the other day about questioning some of the areas of scripture that are complicated, and she asked me if I think it is wrong to ponder on these things. I think it depends upon your posture. God made us to be thinking people. He is big enough to “handle” any of our mere human inquisitions. He told us to ask. “Ask, and it will be given to you. Seek, and you will find. Knock, and he door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened” (Matthew 7: 7-8). And so, we should seek. But “ask” in this context implies a level of reverence. The Greek, aiteo is associated with our English words, beg, crave, and desire. So, the posture when asking is deference—not arrogance. It is worth noting that just before Jesus directs us to ask and seek, He warns us about giving what “is holy to dogs” who will “tear you to pieces” (Matthew 7:6). Again—posture is the key.

    Those who seek to disprove scripture or disparage what is holy do not fear God. They have no wisdom. They don’t even have the very beginning of wisdom for, “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of knowledge; fools despise wisdom and discipline” (Proverbs 1:7). In their arrogant search for a truth that will agree with their own prideful preconceptions, they actually “suppress the truth, since what can be known about God is evident among them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, that is, his eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen since the creation of the world, being understood through what he has made. As a result, people are without excuse” (Romans 1: 18b-20). And because these people do not fear God and give Him the reverence He is due, they are caught in a spiral of their own worthless thoughts, imploring Creator God to deliver them over to the desires of their own hearts—self-righteousness over humility—the chaos of trying to bend truth to their wills over the peace of accepting the saving love of Jesus.

    But those who fear God and approach His throne in humility need not fear asking Him for answers because their posture is ready to receive deep truths that He reveals as they humbly seek, motivated only to love and understand Him more. He may allow them to understand His revealed character on a deeper level by providing succinct answers, or He may allow them to understand the mysteries of His holiness on a deeper level by giving them peace to trust Him with details that are too much for us to understand this side of heaven. Either way, He will answer. And either way, the believer will have peace.

  • In God’s Perfect Timing

    In God’s Perfect Timing

    My mom is a flower addict! She and my dad have a beautiful yard full of flowers. Over the years, she has suggested so many plants for me to grow in the sad beds around my house, but it is always followed by the, “Now, you’ll have to water them” statement. And I’m sure that she knows exactly what I’ll say…”Oh, well, guess that one’s not for me!” Our yard has always been a tough love kind of place—only the strong survive! But over the last year or so, I’ve found myself actually enjoying spending time with plants. I think that until now, I was nurtured out. When I was teaching, I always drove home feeling that everything I had to give for that day was gone. Don’t get me wrong. I loved the kids, and I guess that’s why the drain was so intense. I always made an intentional effort to give everything I had during the school day, but to come home ready to shift my focus to giving my all to my family. Then, of course, there are the goats! Back when we were breeding, I spent so much time investing my sweat and tears into the health and well-being of the herd that I had no energy to care for anything else on the farm.

    Now, I am retired from teaching, my girls are grown, and I just enjoy having the adult goats with no Romeo on the premises. So, my need to nurture has shifted (surprise, surprise) to plants! I also had the thought that since we will be working in heaven one day, and since God started it all with a garden, I should at least gain some appreciation for growing things before I enter into glory! (lol) This long backstory has finally caught up to my point—dahlias!

    I have always loved dahlias, and so this year I planted several varieties in my raised beds with the intention of moving the ones I love into the perimeter beds this fall. All summer long, I watched as the varieties grew. I had dwarf varieties that almost looked like bushes. They were this deep burgundy, and I loved them. I also had some huge white dahlias that I immediately picked a prime spot for in my landscaping. But throughout the hot summer, there was one variety that I thought, “um…that one’s a cull” every time I looked at it. The picture on the package that caused me to buy it was lovely. The petals were uniquely spikey. (I like unique spikey things—lol.) And the color—so pretty! It was a beautiful yellow center that radiated out to bright pink. Those huge blossoms beckoned, so I bought…I planted, and then I smirked at it all summer long.

    Then came October. I was out feeding the goats and caught a flash of color from the raised beds that I had gotten tired of bothering with weeks ago. There she stood in all of her splendor. This beautiful dahlia that looked even better than the picture. And I thought, she was too tender for the heat of Alabama summers, but she kept right on growing. She didn’t get included in many of the kitchen island bouquets, but it didn’t matter. She kept right on growing. All of her sister plants are done for the year—no blooms for weeks, but this girl is in her glory. She is shining now in the overgrown weeds of my neglect, but next October, she will be shining in her permanent home by the porch. I pray that every time I see her, I will think about the lesson she gave me. We will not shine in every season, but no time is wasted by our creator. He is using every moment to grow us, building our strength, and storying up energy for His perfect time—for we are God’s masterpiece, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared ahead of time for us to do.

  • Faithful in the Finish

    Why is it always so much easier to start any project than to finish it? Whether it is cleaning out a closet, starting a new eating plan, or in my case—marketing your book, the start is so much easier than the finish. When I finally became obedient and began writing His Will: Your Abundance, I could feel God prompting me, redirecting me, guiding me—He was right there with me, and I was so confident that I was doing what I needed to do. Writing the book did take obedience and discipline on my part, but the skills involved were in my comfort zone. My educational background and my career had prepared me for so much of the process. Of course, all of this was in God’s providence. He provided the education and the career, I think largely for this purpose. Oh, and He was faithful…so faithful! And I know without a shadow of a doubt that He is still faithful, even in this time of discomfort for me. I do not feel equipped for marketing this book. It is 100% outside of my comfort zone. And so I must lean into the one who is faithful. I must pray more. I must humble myself and ask for others to help me. I must lean on Christian friends to pray for me. I must recognize that God will provide if I am obedient and if I continue to look to Him. I also must recognize that the enemy wants to stomp on my plans to honor God by finishing that which I know He gave me.

    Isn’t that how so many things in life are? We move forward in faith, and God confirms our decision. He provides guidance and His presence to fortify us. We grow and we develop under this tender care. And then we come to a new pathway. Is He still there? Oh, yes. He is there, and He is watching. He is listening for us to lean into Him. And He is giving us time to reach toward Him so He can prove His love again and again.

    I think of parenting. When we taught our girls to ride their bikes, we started with training wheels, and then a hand on the seat. Soon, we let them go (in the grass in case they fell). And then they were off! Riding with excitement and joy! But do you know what else I remember? I remember where their eyes went immediately after they realized they were really doing it. Those eyes went straight to us as we cheered them on! They wanted to keep eye contact with the ones who set them off on this thrilling ride. And that is where I am now. God has given me a beautiful blessing in writing a book for His glory. Now, His hand is on the seat, and He is guiding my efforts. When I look around at all of the distractions, I can get a little scared, but when I look up at the one who set me on this thrilling journey, I feel only joy. The difference in bike riding and our adult adventures is our God never leaves us. We are never riding alone. His hand is right there, ready to provide balance and guidance the second we reach for Him. Not only that, He is making adjustments to the path in front of us and arranging circumstances in the journey for our good and for His glory. Thank you Lord for your faithfulness. Please, remind me to look up—to give this journey to you, and to finish well.

  • God is Good!

    God is Good!

    God is good all the time. This seems like lunacy to the world. If God is good all the time, why does he allow suffering? How can he (seemingly) turn his back on those he claims to love if what the Christians say is true, and God is love? While we as Christ followers know this characteristic of God to be true, having experienced it in our own lives, it is still easy to understand how this concept would confound an unbeliever. We, too, deal with loss and disappointment. We see evil in the world, and we are frustrated by the deterioration of morals and the increase in hate that is always evident in the twenty-four hour news cycle. Yet, we have an undergirding of hope in the face of all the bad–a resolve that comes from the Holy Spirit strengthening us. We understand that He has a perfect plan for our lives that will prosper us and not harm us–no matter what each day brings.  We KNOW that God is good and God is love, but do we always FEEL that truth? When we consider our futures and God’s perfect plan, do we just know it with our minds, or do we claim it with our hearts, as well?