Surviving to Thriving
Fiona Keller • June 23, 2020
Live in faith

You’re here! I’m so excited to have company. I’d just love to have a chat over coffee with you!
Surviving to thriving: this is a topic that has been going round in my mind for a while now. I think it’s probably something I’ll keep coming back to. Something where the answers change, that maybe what the answer looks like today is not going to be the same as it does next week, next month, next year or ten years from now. Yes, I think there’ll probably be a thread that does run across the expanse of time, like a theme in a piece of music, but perhaps the melodies and harmonies will change around it. I’m not sure I know what that theme is yet. But I do want to find it.
As I was talking to a friend, not that long ago, about how we were both doing, the phrase that came out of my mouth was, “I’m surviving but I’m not thriving.” That’s it. It summed up my here and now. This holding pattern that I’ve entered into, but haven’t figured out how to land and start living again. The trouble is, I think I was already just surviving, long before this latest global disaster occurred. It’s just that this world-sweeping problem, became like a magnifying glass to the problem. Every time a challenge came along - and we really had faced some pretty huge life changes and stresses - I went back into survival mode. Back to this waiting. This holding pattern. Back to just trying to make it through the day, on some degree of autopilot. Waiting for something to change, for the limbo to dissipate so that I could ‘get on with life.’
It’s easy to get up on a spiritual high horse, to churn out some text book answers on how we should all be handling this current trial or any of life’s challenges for that matter. But text book answers so often don’t connect with the heart. The list of ‘shoulds’ that will ‘solve’ our limbo status, just don’t seem to cut it. They seem to be designed for the pseudo-perfect person. The one who doesn’t exist. The solutions just don’t seem to fit for the average, struggling person. The holiest of answers to the problem of how to enter a life where I’m thriving, seems like scaling Mount Everest. Overwhelming. Impossible for Josephine Average. I’m reminded that when Jesus sat teaching large groups of people, he wasn’t doing it trying to set impossible standards that we can’t attain and consequently feel like we’ve failed when we can’t live it out. He wasn’t aloof. He wasn’t sitting on a throne away from everyone, giving instruction. No, he was there, being accessible. Being reach-able. Surrounded by people from all walks of life. Available to everyone. Caring about everyone. And willing to pick up the slack, willing to take the consequences of both our intentional and unintentional inability to live a holy life.
‘Live. In faith.’ Words spoken by my father. And suddenly it’s like a light-bulb goes off. Live in faith. I believe this is at least part of the key to move from surviving to something more. Something more than watching life just pass us all by. Something attainable. Something that comes in bite-sized pieces. The golden crispy nuggets that make a meal simple and easier to pick up, to digest. Massive steaks are delicious, but require some serious utensils to cut into and some real chewing to make it swallow-able. Living in faith, doesn't necessarily have to be easy but it doesn't have to be an overly complicated concept either. Sometimes we find ourselves expecting a complex solution when we don’t need one. Living in faith day by day. Just as Scripture teaches - focus on today because tomorrow has its own problems. God clothes the flowers of the field, so He’ll care for you, of that you can be sure. He sees your needs (Matt 6:25-34.) Living in faith is asking God for the strength to get through this day. Just this one. Not tomorrow or next week. And it’s trusting that the future is in His hands and in that we can have hope. Not because trust is easy, not because we don’t feel afraid or sad but because He sees what we cannot (Jer. 29:11.) Because He is good (Luke 18:19, Ps.34:8.) Because He remains faithful (2 Thess. 3:3.) Because He never sleeps (Ps. 121:1.) Because He isn’t taken by surprise. Living in faith is trusting in what we know to be true about God. It is not trusting in our circumstances or in our abilities. It is not even relying on our feelings, because those can fail us too. Living in faith becomes an all-encompassing way of being.
But I think there’s more to this statement - live. Live. Live. Live. Live because you have permission to live now. To live now with faith in the One who holds the future in his hands. Not just a general instruction to live life in faith and to walk in faith not by sight. Not just the lifelong instruction so to speak. But one that is completely and utterly relevant for right here and right now. Living now. Engaging now.
Now, if you’re anything like me then you start to wrestle with what living in faith looks like on a day by day basis, especially on the days when I don’t even feel like getting out of bed. On the days or weeks or even months, when I’m just not ‘feeling it.’ This is where I think the bite-sized chicken nugget pieces come into it. To move from surviving to thriving, to cultivate a life in which we do more than merely existing.
So maybe that living in faith is getting up and intentionally taking a few minutes to engage with those around us, maybe it’s setting a timer on social media use and news reports and intentionally re-engaging with what is happening right now in our home. And as we intentionally engage with our present surroundings we can choose to open our eyes to the blessings we have. To find gratitude. Maybe it is simply saying that once per day, I’m going to look for something to be grateful for and I’m going to share that with someone. Maybe it’s committing to pray for someone while I fold the laundry instead of putting on a TV show. What about just thinking of one small thing that my kids have asked me to do with them and actually doing it. Of saying ok, those dishes can wait 10 minutes while I jump on the trampoline. Maybe it’s calling everyone together and making up stories while we all clear up from dinner. Maybe we release our cares to the Lord in simple sentences throughout the day, as they present themselves.
Maybe it’s just doing one thing that needs to be done in a day and calling that success. Maybe it’s finding our passion or things we enjoy and allowing ourselves time for those things. A shifting of focus. Maybe, this is living. Small memories. Small kindnesses. Small acts of gratitude. Small accomplishments. Reaching out and connecting with others in small ways, so that they feel remembered. Perhaps, even as the world ceases to function in the way we have always known it to, as countless challenges throw themselves at us every day, perhaps we can grab at the bite-sized pieces. The pebbles, if you will. And before we know it, by the end of the day, even though our hearts may remain heavy with the bigger cares of the world, we can look in our hand and see the pebbles that we have picked up (a slightly better analogy perhaps, than a handful of nuggets?!) We can see that we have lived today. We have lived in faith today. We have communed with Him in the small things, we have communed with Him in the living, in the mundane and routine and we have found beauty there. We have chosen to keep our eyes on the present and to trust God with our future - knowing that He has wisdom to impart and will guide us, when we abide in Him.
Then tomorrow, we will see our pebbles from today and be encouraged and we will add more to the collection. I think, I hope, I choose to believe that these actions will become easier the more we practice them. Then gradually we will see that collection of pebbles grow, some days with more pebbles than others and in time, perhaps we will realise that we began to live, to thrive and that even in the midst of the most challenging of times when the holding pattern of survival starts, that we can choose to come in to land and to start living again.

Father, I thank You for these man-made shells, which become our homes as they fill with noise and laughter, silence and tears, memories and hopes. I thank You for their protection, for the safety found within. I thank You for the life that grows surrounded by these walls; a place we make our own. Amen

Mercy, peace and love be yours in abundance. Jude 1:2 Most gracious and loving Heavenly Father, I thank You for You have sustained me through this school year. I thank You for Your provision of strength and energy even on the hardest of days. I thank You for walking with me on the mountain tops: the moments of joy, the times of bonding and fellowship, the times when the learning and the teaching came easily. I thank You for journeying with me through the valleys. On the days I wanted to give up. During times of frustration and grumblings. On the days when learning was hard and teaching even harder. I thank You that I never left the shadow of Your wings and that You have seen me, valued me and noticed me as I have sought to lead and serve my family in this way. Lord, we are nearing the end of this season and oftentimes feel the increasing need for rest, for reprieve and refueling. Some days Lord, it feels like summer will never come. And yet some days time flies and I become aware again of the limited time I have with these dear ones whom I am not only tasked with teaching, but also with parenting and loving. Father, it is my desire to finish well. That we will not succumb to wishing away the time together, nor give in to half-hearted efforts put forth. Help us to find balance between being present in the here and now and thinking ahead to plans for the summer and next school year May You continue to be the source of my daily strength and joy. Remind me of my calling to teach during this season and equip me each day to face challenges with grace, love, humor and humility. Renew my spirit and uplift me as I seek to lead these children towards You, keeping my mind focused and my heart seeking You above all else. In Jesus' name Amen