Encourage-[en-kur-ij] to inspire with courage, spirit, or confidence.
The enCourage Blog is weekly dose of encouragement in a world that is often filled with bad news. We offer life-giving entries each Monday and Thursday written by gifted women from across our denomination, the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). You can subscribe below to have them delivered to your inbox. With hundreds of blog pieces, you can search on a variety of topics in the search bar above to read and share with friends. Christina Fox, a gifted author, serves as our enCourage General Editor. If you are interested in submitting a piece, you can contact her at cfox@pcanet.org.
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Jesus’s Invitation in the Midst of Stress
STEPHANIE FORMENTI | CONTRIBUTOR April showers might bring May flowers, but the month of April also ushers in unique busyness. Between Easter celebrations, graduations, end-of-the-year school trips, filing taxes, open houses, baby showers, final exams and projects, bridal showers, sports tournaments, and summer planning, April fills up fast. It’s probably no accident then that April is also National Stress Awareness Month, set aside to bring attention to the negative effects of stress. National Stress Awareness Month began in 1992 before smartphones, 24-hour news cycles, and social media were part of the daily vernacular. Now, with very little to buffer us from constant demands and worldwide problems, it is easy to understand why we experience stress on a regular basis. Stress and anxiety are close friends; stress is a state of worry or mental tension caused by challenging or difficult situations. It is a natural human response which can be helpful in addressing those challenges or threats. In fact, God designed our bodies to respond to stressful situations, for our own safety and wellbeing. The problem is, instead of stress being an occasional thing, it’s almost a daily thing for many Americans. There are many resources to help us manage stress, and we ought to utilize those that are helpful. But what if stress also presents a unique opportunity to for us to meet Jesus? What if our experience of stress is an invitation to a deeper relationship with him?...
The Brevity of Life
SHARON ROCKWELL | CONTRIBUTOR My mother was known in our family for her pithy statements which were intended to impart wisdom. One of her favorites was “Life is short and then you die.” That may have been a child’s version of a verse from the book of James, “yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes” (James 4:14). As children we would appeal to mother for sympathy when something earthshattering occurred in our world. Complaints like “My fort fell over,” “My sister hit me,” and “I forgot my lunch money” would be met with those words of wisdom. “Life is short and then you die.” We received little sympathy but learned not to make the same mistakes a second time. During my college years, a neighbor who had already raised her family passed away after a long illness. The woman seemed so old to me. But I recall my mother commenting that her life seemed so short. At our neighbor’s funeral, the pastor talked about life being a dot on a line that extended to eternity. My mother’s words came back to me: “Life is short and then you die.” But this time those words had a broader meaning to me. I had watched our neighbor live her life knowing that she would die sooner than she expected. She used her time to pray for others, to encourage others in their faith, and especially to remind anyone who would listen that life is short and getting right with God was of vital importance. She once asked me if I was living a godly life while I was away at college. Her awareness of impending death made her bold in her conversations with others. She knew life was fragile. She knew life is short and then you die...
Spiritual Mothers Point Us to Christ
AMY SHORE | GUEST She grew up in a small West Virginia town near the Mason-Dixon that changed hands between the North and the South 56 times during the Civil War. Her family reflected that instability. It wasn’t until college that I started to see and understand the evil and dysfunction that my mother survived as a child. It wasn’t until early adulthood that I saw it as evil and dysfunctional. And it wasn’t until recently that I comprehended the notion that she survived childhood. But if I’m being honest, she did more than survive. The very fact that I had clothes on my back, grew up in church, and was loved bears testimony to that redemptive fact. She showed me a kind of love and affection that shouldn’t have been possible for a woman with her past. I didn’t understand it. I couldn’t relate to her in so many ways—and still can’t. But I’m beginning to see the grace that was poured out by a benevolent Father in both our lives reflected in that love that was never modeled to her. Her love is imperfect. And that’s probably the part I wrestled with the most once I left home. An 18-year-old has grand visions of how she will rise above her parents and be better, be different, be free. 18-year-old me grew to 20-something me who came to resent all the ways my mother did not meet my needs. So, I decided to have no needs. I would rise above. I would pull myself up by my proverbial bootstraps and make my own way. I decided the best way to keep my heart intact would be to need no one. I excelled at my new-found independence. I soared, really! I quickly rose from the ranks of the needy, to the self-sufficient, and then graduated to White Horse Specialist First Class. I became the one who met other’s needs. I became all things to all people. To my siblings—I was their stand-in mama. To my students—I was the teacher who made learning fun. To my best friends—I was the ever-present pillar of strength. To my church—I was the tireless volunteer. Until I began to encounter circumstances that were larger than the persona I had mustered...
On Suffering and Hope in Romans 5
EDEN FLORA | GUEST I vividly remember being 22, a new college graduate, and feeling very alone. I felt overwhelmed at the life that lay ahead of me. I wondered, how do I get from where I am to where I want to go? And where do I even want to go? Being 22 was rather scary, not at all like what Taylor Swift sings, “everything will be alright if we just keep dancing like we’re twenty-two.” The next paragraph you will read is difficult. I always feel apologetic as I head into my story. I think because it’s shocking and people often find it difficult to know how to respond. In the last semester of my college career, my reality was turned upside down. My wonderful, kind, lovely, but not dainty mother died by suicide. Though she had struggled with mental illness for years, quite obviously, it completely changed my life. When I think about my younger self, I long to comfort her and speak God’s truth to her. I was so scared. I couldn’t imagine anything other than that season. It felt so heavy and unmovable. I wish almost 40-year-old Eden could just sit with her and keep her company. In the months and years following, I just tried to get by. I had no clear goals, no solid plans, and not many ideas. It was painful and lonely. Gratefully, I knew God and felt His presence. I had people that cared about me. I had access to gifted therapists. But I couldn’t get past my sorrow, though I desperately felt like I should. I kept thinking that it was time for me to not be so sad. I think it was because I didn’t want to feel sad any more. I was afraid I would remain in that place forever. I remember reading Romans 5:3-5: “...we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” I didn’t understand how I could rejoice in my suffering...
