ARTICLES BY COLLEEN CHAO

Category: Holidays

Admire

Benediction

As the new year dawns, none of us has any idea what lies ahead. Many of our days will unfold quite differently from how we’ve planned them, and we will be reminded of how little we actually control in this life. But for the child of God, we are given precious promises that not only make sense of life’s interruptions and sorrows, but also fill us with greater joy and purpose than we can begin to imagine. A few of those precious promises are packed into two little verses at the end of the book of Hebrews—two verses that have beat a beautiful path in my mind over time and led me to a breathtaking view of my God and His goodness to me. Now may the God of peace, who brought up from the dead our Lord Jesus—the great Shepherd of the sheep—through the blood of the everlasting covenant, equip you with everything good to do his will, working in us what is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be glory forever and ever. Amen. (Hebrews 13:20-21) As we look into the unknown before us, here are a few things we can count on according to this Scripture: God is a God of peace. We are not naturally a peaceful people. We are born into turmoil, all manner of anxiety, anger, and self-absorption. But with God, we can experience true shalom—a well-being of both body and soul. Ephesians 2:14 says, “He himself is our peace.” God, we pray that we would walk in the joy of your presence, which is perfect peace for our troubled souls. God keeps His promises.He made gargantuanly good promises to us and then signed them with the blood of His only Son. Can we truly continue to doubt God’s goodness to us when He paid the highest price to fulfill such undeserved promises? We are so grateful, God, that you always keep your promises—and that you paid the highest price to fulfill them. Jesus is our Great Shepherd, raised from the dead.This means that Jesus has the authority and power to perfectly protect us, provide for us, and guide us. Isaiah 40:11 says, “He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young.” Jesus, we ask You to lead us as a new day dawns—and to give us hearts that are happy to follow You. God gives us everything we need.He is not cheap, unfair, or full of unrealistic expectations. Have you ever had someone charge you with an impossible task? And then perhaps they grew impatient at your incompetence when you couldn’t fulfill their expectations? God is nothing like that. He beautifully equips us for what He calls us to do, giving us everything we need (and then some!) to do it. He always out-gives us. Thank you, God, that no matter what unfolds today, You are with me, providing everything I need to do Your will—whether it’s to wash another sink of dishes or to forgive a difficult person in my life or to suffer in hope. God is pleased with us.Because God looks at us through Jesus, our position as his beloved child is secure. Permanent. Indestructible. We may fall flat on our face ten times today, feel like an utter failure, and suffer the deep disappointment of others—but because we are in Christ, God delights in us and our smallest acts of obedience! O Lord, our hearts swell with joy to know that You take pleasure in us and our broken efforts for Your kingdom. Today, no matter how we feel or how we fail, we believe that we are Your beloved children. Jesus gets all the glory. All of this lavish love and goodness and provision doesn’t result in us getting a big name or a place in history or the praises of the masses. It all crescendos in glory to Jesus and in His name becoming famous, which is what our hearts truly long for. Jesus, we praise You! We say, “You are greater than all others! Your name is like no other name! We love You and want to live for You because You are so GOOD! We are happiest when You are glorified!” As we enter a brand-new year, may this power-packed benediction shape our hearts, our prayers, our joys, and our ambitions. And may these coming 365 days be spent in such a way that culminates in overflowing praise to our great God! This article also appears on True Woman.

Colleen Elisabeth Chao December 31, 2019

Admire

Meditation for Advent

Think of that wonderful truth that God came here in human flesh and blood, and…died a cruel death upon the tree. Turn that over and over again… Think over all the details of it; accustom yourself to look towards God in Christ Jesus in your thoughts and contemplations. Set your face that way… —C.H. Spurgeon In the holiday hustle, I want to draw near to Christ, sit in his presence and reflect again on the way he happily made himself nothing—wholeheartedly surrendering to God’s grueling-but-glorious plan. What if the frenzy of this season could be overshadowed by our awe-filled thoughts of the Incarnation? Let’s “set our faces this way,” let’s look long at God Almighty who pushed himself down into flesh-and-bone, to love us to himself. . . . ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The One who owns “every beast of the forest” and “the cattle on a thousand hills,” made his first bed in an animal’s feeding trough. (Psalm 50:10; Luke 2:7) The One whose voice “breaks the cedars, flashes forth flames of fire, and shakes the wilderness,” cried and cooed as a newborn. (Psalm 29; Job 38:34, 40:9; Revelation 1:15; Isaiah 53:7) The One who rides through the skies in his majesty, who binds the chains of the Pleiades and looses the cords of Orion, looked up into his star-studded sky through the wonder of a child’s eyes. (Deuteronomy 33:26; Job 38:31) The One whose love for his children is “as high as the heavens are above the earth,” became the humble recipient of a mother’s imperfect love. (Psalm 103:11) The One who treads the winepress of wrath, who has “walked in the recesses of the deep,” became a toddler whose feet faltered often as he learned to walk. (Psalm 104:32) The One “who can number the clouds by wisdom” and numbers the hairs on our heads, and keeps count of our tossing and tears, learned to count from the beginning, “1… 2… 3.” (Job 38:37; Luke 12:7; Psalm 56:8) The One who adorns himself with majesty and dignity; who clothes himself with glory and splendor—he let himself be wrapped in swaddling cloths and “had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” (Job 40:10; Revelation 4; Isaiah 53:2-3; Luke 2:7) The One whose fame leaves men prostrate and speechless, became the child of scandal (a virgin mother, indeed!), the subject of hushed (and not-so-hushed) conversations and chastising sideways glances. (Habakkuk 3:2; Psalm 19; Daniel 7; Revelation 4) Let it leave us breathless all over again: our God became poor so that we could become rich in him. He was rejected so that we could be accepted. He set his gaze upon the cruel cross, “he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death”—so that we could live. {How can we imitate this humble, sacrificial love this Christmas? How does Jesus want to live his life through us to those who are hurting around us?} *Spurgeon quote from his sermon, “The Life Look,” January 21, 1904. Emphasis mine. **A version of this post was originally written in December 2014 and appears on True Woman.

Colleen Elisabeth Chao December 3, 2019

anxiety

The election, the holidays, and a mouthful of praise

I’ll admit: the holiday season can put me on edge. But this year it’s not just the frenzy of festivity that looms large on the horizon. The countdown to this election is a wee bit stressful as well. Can I get a witness? So this past week I’ve been amping up my “peaceful practices.” One of my favorite ways to color myself calm in the midst of stress is to tell stories of God’s goodness in my life. Like this one…. My friends Cara and Melissa have entered into our family’s food-allergy-ridden diet and cared for us in ways that have brought me to tears on more than one occasion. They’ve actually cried with me when I’ve shared how food allergies can isolate my son Jeremy in social settings. They’ve thought in advance of an event where Jeremy might feel left out and have prepared food for him so I didn’t have to. They’ve stocked the kids’ class at church with the one “candy” Jeremy can eat so he has a treat like the rest of the kids. Not only that, but when I’ve thanked them through tears for all their kindnesses, they’ve said, “You guys are family, and Jeremy is so special to us.” I cannot begin to describe what a balm to my heart these precious friends are. This practice is so simple, yet so sweet. By describing to someone God’s goodness to me, my own heart is cheered, quieted, and strengthened. I literally feel my whole body relax. I experience a calm and joy that are a direct result of sharing my appreciation aloud. To quote the incomparable Lewis: I think we delight to praise what we enjoy because the praise not merely expresses but completes the enjoyment; it is its appointed consummation. It is not out of compliment that lovers keep on telling one another how beautiful they are; the delight is incomplete till it is expressed. Body, brain, and soul, we are created to enjoy what is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, excellent, and praiseworthy. (See Philippians 4:8.) But we live in a world that celebrates duplicity, death, anger, shame, and self-worship. To give voice to God’s beauty in my life helps me overwhelm the darkness with light. So here’s an idea for us as we enter into the holidays and count down to this election. What if between now and November 8 we take time each day to tell a detailed story of God’s goodness to us? We can share with someone via phone call, FaceTime, audio message, or best of all—in person! There’s another habit similar to story-telling that also helps calm my anxious heart. In his book Transforming Fellowship: 19 brain skills that build joyful community, Chris Coursey tells of how he and his wife practice “3x3x3” before falling asleep at night: First, identify three things from your day that you feel thankful for. Give examples and take turns sharing. Next, identify three qualities you appreciate about the other person. Last, name three qualities about God you feel thankful for. I am struck by the simplicity of the exercise, but I feel grateful for the results! We feel better, lighter, calmer and safer. (And to state the obvious, you don’t have to be married to do this. Find a friend or roommate who also needs this kind of peaceful, grateful encouragement!) Dear one, in one way or another let’s keep talking about God’s loving kindness to us. Let’s overwhelm anxiety with appreciation. Let’s drown out the din of doomsday predictions with a mouthful of praise. Because God is that good (and He’s got it all figured out). “I will give thanks to the Lord with my whole heart; I will recount all of your wonderful deeds.” Psalm 9:1

Colleen Elisabeth Chao October 25, 2016

Holidays

Finding rhythms of rest (even through the holidays)

I’m exhausted. To the marrow of my bones, I am spent and weary. A few days ago, I drove up a winding hill, fresh after fall’s first storm, alone in my car; and the tears started. They were longing to spill out before Him, to be seen by Him. Despite my daily Bible study, I felt like I hadn’t experienced Him in weeks. My soul was made for this One. Everything about me—my personality, my frailties, my history, my hurts, my hopes—it’s all meant to sing His song, to spill out the melody of His gospel on those around me. But a season of crisis and nonstop needs can dry up the soul until the only thing that seems to be spilling out is a monumental mess. Can you relate? These days I’m easily given to a heart that’s crabby, negative, and ungrateful. I often feel exhausted and numb, and I find myself shifting into autopilot in my marriage and motherhood. And yet, He’s still wooing me. He’s still calling me by name and whispering, “You are mine.” Dear one, I wasn’t made for this American pace of life. I wasn’t made to be a miracle wife and mom all while keeping a calendar that hemorrhages with busyness. I’m not hard-wired to press through another day on nothing but old fumes. I was made to know Life, to consider everything else a loss compared to the breathtaking beauty of knowing Him. Please hear my heart: I was absolutely made to work hard, to invest my time well, to lay down my life for those around me. I was meant to serve in such a way that requires supernatural strength and, at times, leaves me physically and emotionally exhausted. Jesus modeled this for us and commissioned us to do the same. WORK FLOWING FROM REST But that kind of meaningful work and eternal investing must flow from an abiding rest—the kind of rest I can find only in Him. He modeled this for us too. And squeezing in a “quiet time” during my son’s short nap each day just doesn’t cut it. I need to find rhythms of rest in my weeks and days: to say “no” to even the best of activities so that I can say “yes” to Him to savor thoughts of Christ, again and again throughout my day to post Scriptures on the walls of my home, so I can stop and read and believe what is true in the midst of a day that feels like “too much” to prioritize my calendar so that it points to His sufficiency, not mine I truly don’t know how to do this yet and may not for many years to come. But even my pursuit is precious in His eyes. And when I feel like no rest can be found in this season of nonstop needs and ministry, He continues to show up and say, “This is the way; walk in it.” As I keep His Word before me, it’s as if a little lamp lights my way and leads me into His rest. MAKING REST HAPPEN Are you weary and exhausted, dear one? Are you numb? Have you been in crisis mode for too long? May I encourage you in the same way I’m encouraging myself today? We are not victims of our circumstances—we can make space for rest, no matter what season of life we’re in. We can know Him in the most mundane or insane moments of our day. The holiday season is fast upon us, but He is even more important than the coming festivities. This month, what if we booked a few sessions of REST? What if we dared to clear our calendar—somewhere, anywhere—to make room for Him? What if the rhythm of our lives sang with the hymnist, Ever lift Thy face upon me, as I work and wait for Thee; Resting ‘neath Thy smile, Lord Jesus, earth’s dark shadows flee. Brightness of my Father’s glory, sunshine of my Father’s face, Keep me ever trusting, resting, fill me with Thy grace. Dear one, because Christ became our eternal Sabbath rest, we are no longer slaves to temporal weariness. Body and soul may grow exhausted, but as we rest in Him, we move from strength to strength. {I originally wrote this article in November 2014. It also appears on TrueWoman.com.}

Colleen Elisabeth Chao October 30, 2015

shallow focus photography of string lights

Grieve

When the holidays are hard

I was 31 and it was Christmas Eve when we had The Talk. Everyone thought we were the perfect match. So even though I put on a happy face, my heart reeled as he told me we should “just be friends.” We wished each other a merry Christmas, he walked out the door, and I fell apart. Then I pulled myself together again to join my family for Christmas Eve dinner—where my younger brother and his wife announced they were expecting their first child. I celebrated as I choked back soul-deep sobs. My single years held many Christmases like that one—sweet joys in the midst of silent anguish, bitterness tangled up in beauty. The very things about the season that enchanted me, also served to magnify my heartache: parties with everyone coupled up but me; romantic Christmas music and movies; and those annual Christmas letters brimming with friends’ burgeoning families. It all reminded me of what I didn’t have, of what I longed for with all my being. My fight for contentment and hope was so much more intense through those holiday weeks. But I didn’t have the corner on the market of pain. Others were also hurting and hoping for better Christmases to come. Over the years I wept with friends who suffered the loss of a newborn baby, a parent’s sudden death, a broken marriage, a barren womb, and financial hardships. My heart grew tender toward those who lacked the very basic necessities of life: shelter, food, and love—as well as those who suffered “smaller” pangs: strained family relationships, the betrayal of a close friend, or the loneliness of living far from home and loved ones. And while marriage and motherhood have taken much of Bitterness’ bite out of the season, my husband and I have navigated a job loss, flooded home, debilitating illness, and other such stresses, all while celebrating “the most wonderful season of all.” Dear one, you’ve been here too, haven’t you? You have fasted in the middle of the feast, and you’ve tasted the bitterness in the bounty. The holidays, especially Christmas it seems, represent all that is generous and beautiful. We sing of peace and well-being and hope. We give thanks and we exchange gifts. We cherish the idea of an invisible Santa Claus delivering wishes-come-true, of family gatherings around a festive feast, and of hot drinks sipped at the fireside with Bing Crosby’s voice crooning in the background. But we feel the deep disparity between this broken world we live in, and the world we were made for. Our hearts long for unadulterated happiness and peace, but we are marred by brokenness and need. And therein lies the greatest gift of all: this deep disparity brings us back to the true meaning of Christmas. Our heartaches, our have-nots, and even the brokenness of the world around us—they drive us to the Only One who can satiate our souls. And that longing within us for something more, that discontent that follows the feast and the gift-opening—it reminds us of the immeasurable gift God gave us in sending his Son Jesus to us… To live with us. To die for us. To give us the infinite riches of Himself. And not only did He give us His Son, but He also constantly works this brokenness and heartache for our good—our infinite, perfect, glorious good. Though I won’t know the fullness of that good until eternity, I’ve experienced it here in a million ways. Do you know how thankful I am for those years when God didn’t give me what I so desperately wanted? Oh, how I praise Him for that long wait that made me fall in love with Him, and for saying “no” to every other man so that I could marry the best man of all, Edward Chao. These holidays are for us, dear one—for the hurting, the broken, and the needy. Our culture is enamored with busy, expensive, indulgent, feel-good holidays. But God is always about us finding our highest good in Him, even when that requires us to suffer, to do without, or to wait an inordinate length of time. He loves us too much to let us settle for lesser loves. This Christmas, may our silent aches and longings compel us to worship the God of the Universe, who wrapped Himself in flesh and blood so that our lives would have meaning, so that we would know the Hope that does not disappoint. {Scriptures referenced: Hebrews 13:14-15, Romans 8:32, 2 Corinthians 4:17, Romans 5:5} This article is from the archives (originally posted November 2013). This was also posted on True Woman.

Colleen Elisabeth Chao November 23, 2014

person sitting in front of body of water

Community

To the barren one (on Mother’s Day)

This Sunday, you will not be far from my thoughts, dear one. With every fiber of your being you long to be a mom. You were made for motherhood, and everything within you cries out against your barrenness. I remember. I was 35 when I gave birth to my first and only child. Due to some health complications, I can’t bear any more children. If I’d scripted the story of my life, I would have had my first at 24 (he’d be 17 now) and at least two or three children after that. Instead, my fruitful years were spent celebrating everyone else’s babies—one birth announcement and baby shower after another. Whatever could I do with empty hands that were made to hold children? God met me in my emptiness with strong words that forever changed me. He sang Isaiah 54 over my longings, and as I clung to this Scripture through those waiting years, its truths were engraved into the marrow of my soul. Sing, O barren one, who did not bear; break forth into singing and cry aloud, you who have not been in labor. For the children of the desolate one will be more than the children of her who is married, says the Lord. Could my childless life truly be as rich and full as my friends who had children? Could I sit through yet another baby shower or Mother’s Day assured of some glorious purpose in my pain? God said so, right there in the pages of Scripture—so I took Him at His Word. I poured out my life and love into my teenage students and college-age girls. Over the course of my single years, I opened up my heart and home, discipling women, counseling kids in crisis, and leading Bible studies where God showed up in spectacular ways. I wasn’t always faithful to invest well, and sometimes my sorrow and longing overshadowed my ministries, but by God’s grace I began to feel the weighty truth of Isaiah 54—although I was not yet a mother, I had dozens of spiritual children. I felt rich. Unspeakably, filthy rich. But there was yet another aspect of Isaiah 54, a far scarier aspect that compelled my heart to continue hoping for children of my own. While I felt wealthy with spiritual children, the longing for marriage and motherhood wouldn’t go away. I didn’t quite know what to do with these words: Enlarge the place of your tent, and let the curtains of your habitations be stretched out; do not hold back; lengthen your cords and strengthen your stakes. For you will spread abroad to the right and to the left, and your offspring will possess the nations… Although God wasn’t signing on the dotted line, promising to give me my own flesh-and-blood, I wanted my heart to be full of faith that He could. I wanted to hope past the taunting tick-tock of my biological clock. I wanted to believe that with just one word He could turn my barrenness into fruitfulness as He had for Sarah, Rachel, Hannah, Ruth, and Elizabeth. Hope is scary, but it is our lifeblood. So I fought to cultivate hope first and foremost in Him, and then a lesser hope that He would one day fulfill the longings of my heart for children. The years passed by, and while I continued to bear spiritual children, marriage and motherhood still eluded me. Isaiah 54 sustained me again and again: Fear not, for you will not be ashamed; be not confounded, for you will not be disgraced; For you will forget the shame of your youth, and the reproach of your widowhood [singleness, barrenness] you will remember no more. For your Maker is your Husband, the Lord of hosts is His name… I have a friend who waited till she was 41 to become a mother. I have other friends who continue to wait, well into their thirties, forties and even fifties. I had a lesser wait at 35. But those lessons learned while sitting in church every Mother’s Day, as long-stemmed roses passed me by and I sat alone while seemingly every other woman stood to be appreciated—those lessons will never be forgotten. And so this weekend, I’m thinking of you, dear one. Although we may never meet on this side of eternity, I’m praying that your Maker, who is your Husband, will grant you hope in Himself, faith that He can do the impossible, and the blessing of many spiritual children. Sing, O barren one… for you are precious and fruitful and honored in His eyes.

Colleen Elisabeth Chao May 17, 2014

brown and green grass field during sunset

Admire

As a new year dawns….

For years I religiously observed a late-December ritual of journaling my hopes and goals for the New Year. It was an ambitious, idealistic list, but even so, it was written out of great faith. With all my heart I believed God would show up in the next twelve months of my life. (I just didn’t yet understand that He often shows up so differently than we imagine.) It must have been in my late twenties, after another year had passed without a husband (an annual hope that always made the top of my list), that the ritual finally lost its charm and appeal. Plus, what with my failed attempt at goals like “Memorize a book of the Bible,” I realized The List had come to represent more disappointment than hope. Despite a decade’s distance between me and those annual lists, there’s still something in my heart that longs to commemorate this new beginning, to celebrate a fresh start. I so badly want to seize the time God has given me here on earth, and I still have future hopes and ambitions that stir within me. The turning of a new year beckons me to look behind and ponder…. and to look ahead and hope. This past year, in all its agony and ecstasy, has led me into deeper worship. And to worship God, I have to believe Him, take Him at His Word. It’s been a year of learning to say, No matter what my circumstances, regardless of what others are doing around me, I will look up at You and declare…. You are so good… Kind. Beautiful. Glorious. Faithful. Merciful. Majestic. Powerful. Perfect. Sovereign. Loving. And as I’ve worshiped God for WHO HE IS, my heart has been changed. This fall I wrapped myself up in the book of Genesis, the quintessential beginning. And I found myself worshiping God again and again as He revealed Himself in new ways on those old familiar pages. From the very beginning, He wanted us to know Him and adore Him. And at the beginning of 2014, He still wants the same thing. He is ready and willing to reveal more of Himself to us—revelations that will sustain us through every circumstance with joy and purpose and hope. Joy. Purpose. Hope. Every single time I looked up at Him this past year, even if it was from the bottom of the pit, He sustained me. Without exception, He has been more than enough for my every need and my darkest days. Yes, there have been pressures that have been too great for me to bear, circumstances too much for me to handle, but He has pressed them upon me—the “too much”—so that He could become my Much More. “Cast your burden on the Lord and He will sustain you; He will never permit the righteous to be moved.” (Psalm 55:22) I am stunned at how often I needlessly carry my own burdens—for hours, days, weeks at a time. And the only reason I don’t quickly cast them on the Lord, is that I don’t believe He is who He says He is. Much of the time my view of Him is grievously small. In my pride and self-reliance I walk around bearing a load that was never intended for me to bear. HE bears. HE sustains. And when I cast my burdens on Him, it is an act of worship. I am agreeing with Him that He alone is God (and I am not). I am declaring that He is great, trustworthy, safe, good, and powerful. Oh dear one, we’ve got to stop looking at Self and Circumstances and Others and instead lock our gaze on God, on all that we have in Him. He is the Best and the Only, our Portion and Great Reward, the Beginning and the End. So instead of reviving my New-Year’s-Eve list-making ritual, I’m asking God to enlarge my worship of Him as this New Year dawns. I want to ring in 2014 with mind-boggling thoughts about Him and anticipate His goodness in the coming twelve months. And all these dreams and fears and longings and goals and doubts and hopes welling up inside me—they find their rightful place when I worship God. “Those who look to Him are radiant, and their faces shall never be ashamed.” (Psalm 34:5)

Colleen Elisabeth Chao December 31, 2013