Carey McNamara

Carey McNamara

I am a wife to Bob, a mom to Connor, and a physician assistant who is passionate about beating heart disease. As a devoted lover of Jesus, I am on an unending quest for more truth, love, and wholeness through Him. I have come to a place in my life where I realize God is not afraid of my questions, and I have learned the joy of pursuing Him until I discover His heart. As a result, I created a blog to encourage others in their own journey towards Life, Liberty, and Love in Christ. I am passionate about doing life authentically in community, and am thrilled to share a bit of that with you here.

In part one of this blog, I shared some of the common mindsets that blind us to greed and hinder giving, while highlighting Biblical truths that help point us in the right direction (READ HERE).  However, generosity has a starting point - you will not just wake up one day suddenly more generous. So, in part two of this article I want to share a bit about my personal journey and offer some practical tips for how to walk this out. It has nothing to do with how much money we have, and everything to do with the posture of our hearts. When we begin to see as God sees and love as He loves, the things of this world begin to lose their appeal (Mark 8:35-36) and we start wanting to . . .

Several years ago, my 4-year-old son confronted my ideas on sharing when I did not want to give some of his toys away (you can read the story HERE).  Little did I know that was just the beginning of God challenging me in this area. I often thank God for the blessings in my life, which include my many possessions and comforts . . . but I am starting to wonder if some of these things (and the wealth that surrounds me in my community) are not always blessings. Instead, could these comforts be blinding me to the needs and suffering in this world, and actually encumbering my giving and dependence on God?  Scripture warns us that the riches of this world can hinder us from God’s kingdom (1 Timothy 6:6-10), so would it be better if I had “just enough” instead of . . . 

We are all too aware of the recent tragedies among the African American community, more recently the senseless murder of George Floyd . . . an act that has stirred up a lot of anger and sorrow over the last few weeks. Though I am deeply grieved by what is going on in our country, I cannot help but wonder if God has allowed these things to transpire for a greater purpose.  Is He trying to highlight the suffering, inequalities, and injustices that are still occurring, SO THAT we would be stirred to right the wrongs from our past? But if that is the case, how do we . . .

I have never met a person that enjoyed the loss of control. It is during times of crisis, when we cannot solve our problems on our own, that our faith is truly tested. Either panic and fear overtake us, and prove our spiritual foundation unsteady, or our faith is refined as we take God at His Word and stand in His faithfulness (Deuteronomy 31:6).  

After 9/11, the churches were suddenly flooded with individuals who did not normally attend (or even claim to believe in God) - dire times drove many on a quest for hope. Often, we do not know how much we need God until God is all we have. The truth is, no matter what crisis surrounds us (whether something like 9/11 or the current global Covid-19 pandemic), there is tremendous peace available for anyone willing to put their trust God . . . but practically even Christians can find it hard to acquire.  So during these times of uncertainty (or even times of terror), how can we . . . 

In part one of this article, I addressed some of the differences between the Church we read about in the New Testament and the customs and mindsets of the Western Church today (READ HERE). I concluded that until we return to the true nature of following Christ and of serving one another in our gatherings, we would be left lacking. But since we can’t change the whole Church culture ourselves, where does that leave us – what do we do in the meantime? If we aren’t getting much out of Sunday morning church, is it okay to occasionally skip? Or would that dishonor God and only lead to further discontent and disengagement over time? I do not claim to have all the answers, but as I have worked through these questions personally, I have come up with ten things to help me . . .

Have you ever gone to church on Sunday morning and felt like you were wasting your time? Maybe the worship music felt flat (and those gathered just appeared to be going through the motions) . . . or maybe your mind wandered through the boring and irrelevant sermon (which only seemed like the pastor was trying to “fill time”). All you could think was “I should have stayed in bed,” or better yet, “We should have gone out on the boat today.” Well I have . . . on many occasions, but the feeling was never unique to one particular church. Though I have always valued going to church, my Sunday morning experiences have varied widely throughout my life. Sometimes I leave the service feeling like I met with the Lord, encouraged and better equipped in my spiritual walk, and other times I leave feeling completely . . . 

A dear friend of mine recently lost his young daughter in a horrific tragedy. I wanted to comfort him, but the gravity of his loss, and the manner in which it occurred, left me speechless. I had no words that could erase his bitter heartache - even my prayers seemed to fall flat. For months I sought to find understanding, purpose, or hope in her passing . . . but how could there be a divine plan to such an atrocity? Whoever said God would not give us more than we can handle was flat wrong – this was way too much for anyone. Sure God’s Word promises that His grace will be sufficient for us in our time of need, and that His power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9) . . . but how do we acquire this grace in our darkest nights, when there simply is no answer to the question “why?” And how do we reconcile the apparent contradiction of a loving and faithful God who could . . .

I was taught from a young age that Jesus was the only way to God, and that if I accepted Him as my Savior then I would go to heaven. Seemed like a no-brainer to me. All I had to do was believe that Jesus died on the cross to pay the price for my sins, ask God’s forgiveness, and then accept His free gift of salvation. I believed what my parents told me . . . and what child wouldn’t do that in order to spend eternity in paradise instead of hell? With my child-like faith, I said the prayer and sealed the deal. However, I remember even then thinking how fortunate I was to be born into a Christian family. I wondered about people raised in other cultures or religions, and how a loving God could send them to hell. I mean what if my parents were Muslim or Jewish or Hindu and had a different understanding of “truth” – I am guessing I would have just followed their lead into a different faith . . . and with no less sincerity! So due to mere chance (or God’s "cruel" election), I would have gone to hell for believing the wrong thing. But I know for certain that God is good, so something does not . . .

I exercise almost every day and have maintained a healthy weight for most of my life, and yet still, I have issues with food. I began to realize this a few years ago when I was reading a book called “The Heavenly Man.” In the book, Brother Yun shares the details of his experiences in China when he was imprisoned for sharing his faith. The prisoners were fed a bowl of “mush” once a day, and he said that the men would ravenously fight over this food. He quoted Philippians 3:19 and wrote, “Their god was their stomach.” I immediately stopped when I read those words - surely that Scripture just applies to people who chronically overeat, not to starved prisoners! Suddenly, my inner cravings were exposed. I never thought I had a problem with food, but in reality, if you had asked me to give up my sweets . . .

I had only been working as a physician assistant for a year or two. There were several medical assistants at the practice, but for some reason, one of them was consistently rude to me. When I asked her to do anything for my patients (like draw blood or run a strept screen), she would roll her eyes or huff and then take her own sweet time to get it done. She did not treat the other employees like this, so clearly her issue was with me, but I had no idea why she disliked me. Since this girl was only a couple of years younger than me, I thought that if I reached out in friendship, maybe she would soften towards me . . . so I invited her over to my house to hang out with me and my roommate. The look on her face clearly communicated she was not . . .

Page 1 of 4