Renewed, Retired, and A Happy Childhood

More than two years ago, I stopped publishing weekly devotionals. I was tired, frustrated, and disappointed with how this whole speaking/writing thing was playing out.

I had a plan.

God wasn’t working according to that plan.

I didn’t think I’d made up my own plan. In hindsight, though, seems like I did.

As it turns out, I like God’s ideas better than mine. I thought I’d speak for the next several years, regionally, maybe nationally.

When I put down the pen two years ago from the “Tired” devotional, I asked God, “So what do I do with the next twenty years?”

I’m pretty sure he said, “You can have the childhood you missed.”

Wow. God would say that?

The reality is, I like being a little kid at 63 years old better than being a speaker.

And as I said in the “Tired” post, I am also ministering to those he puts in front of me. Sometimes that’s a brief encounter, sometimes it’s ongoing.


Mostly, though, I am worshiping, enjoying his creation, and resting in his arms.

I am grateful that I don’t have to speak or write or market my thoughts. I curate a Twitter stream, I speak to current issues through Facebook, and I think about God, culture, and philosophy.

That’s enough, for a little kid.






I’m tired. I’ve pushed hard for several years to write the memoir, to work through Jerry’s cancer, to market my speaking. And I’m tired. This is a transition/sabbatical year. I’m waiting on God to purify my heart so I’m not angry about how this is playing out. It’s not what I’d expected. I’m asking him to help me rest in him and know that productivity does not equal value. I’m wondering if it’s okay to say, “I’ve done my part. I’ve saved several people’s lives as a therapist.” And “I’ve been obedient to the call to write the memoir.” As several people have said to me recently, “Perhaps the memoir is an offering, a sacrifice, to the Lord.”

Yes, perhaps it is a whole burnt offering. Unlike other Old Testament offerings, a whole burnt offering doesn’t leave anything for the priest. And I think of David who says he won’t offer a sacrifice that costs him nothing. Yes, I know of a few people whose lives have been changed by Trading Fathers. Sales are a tiny trickle these days, though, and it feels nearly at the end of its useful life, though I have many hundreds of books left. Other writing hasn’t gotten much response, either.

Nor do I feel a great need or desire to write. Or even to speak. I will, if someone asks, but I’m reconsidering the whole enterprise.


I’m tired. Maybe I’ll feel differently in a year. God knows. Maybe this is one of God’s death/resurrection motifs.

Or maybe it’s just a death that I will grieve and go on to something else. In any case, my word for this year is “minister to those I put in front of you.” That’s the last word I’ve heard from God. Not necessarily the “last word” but the most recent.

In this vein, I’m suspending this devotional blog for a season. I’m on Facebook and Pinterest if you want to hear from me. There are more than three hundred devotionals on this website which will stay up. If you have feedback, I’m happy to hear from you. karenrabbitt at

Father, we need your wisdom, your guidance, your strength, your comfort. May your will be done here on earth, in our lives, as it is in heaven. For your glory, Amen.


Deliberate Healing


When the woman touched  the hem of Jesus’ cloak and was healed, Jesus says, “Someone deliberately touched me.” The disciples, when Jesus asked who’d touched him, had said that the crowd was pressing against him and how could anyone tell who’d touched him? But Jesus was asking about a deliberate touch, one that had taken healing power from him. He had felt the power leave.

Prayer Pictures, Images and Photos

Sometimes people say, “If God wants he heal me, he will.” With the implication of “I don’t have to ask him specifically or repeatedly or in particular circumstances for him to heal.” The report here in Luke 8:45 suggests otherwise. Though the woman’s request was implicit, it was deliberate.

Most aspects of healing are mysteries to me and to most of us. But here’s a clear message: Be deliberate in our requests. Seek to touch Jesus. I don’t know what that might mean for you, today, in your circumstance. But it means something specific, measurable, and particular. Go to a healing room and request prayer from one of their small groups dedicated to healing prayer. Go to a healing communion service. Get alone with God in the night and cry out with your whole heart to be healed.

I wish he healed more regularly. I wish for less mystery. And yet, I am grateful he heals at all. Had he never responded to my desperate requests, my life would be far different.

More, Lord. More. We need your deliberate touch. Give us grace, this Easter season, to stretch out our hands again to reach the hem of your garment. For your glory. Amen.