It was testing day for my oldest daughter in her Taekwondo class, and I felt the usual stirring in my stomach. I knew she worked hard and wanted to meet her goals. I wanted to see her experience the glow of doing what she came to do.

She has overcome some tough challenges in her life. Still struggling to work through others. In the midst of a sweaty gym and plenty of nerves, the strength gained in her tough stuff was the best tool she brought to her test.

The first part of her test was what she did best: clean forms, long kicks, and a determined attitude.

Tension creased my eyes after that. It was the final part of the test, where she had to break a board. The best way I know how to put it- she is just too nice. Great form, but as her teacher, Mr. T, often says, “You need to get mad at that board!” After several failed attempts, he moved toward her with words of intense encouragement.

She broke the board.

During her three years of taekwondo, I have noticed some things about her teacher.  First, he is just as passionate and involved with a beginner student as with an experienced black belt. Always 100% of his time and heart are in his encounters with his students.

Second, he never lets them plateau. Always pushing to be better, do better, grow further, become stronger. He enthusiastically celebrates accomplishments with them, then lines them up along the wall to do wall sits until their legs feel like they are going to fall off.

But by far the most powerful thing I have observed is that, as much as he can help it, he won’t let his students fail. I have noticed this particularly during the board breaking part of the test.

He certainly does let the students fail in ways that are healthy and good and necessary for learning. He doesn’t bail them out of a situation to shield them from a challenge. But he sees their heart and their effort, and he knows their work ethic and ability. If someone works hard and tests well, he is not going to let them go down on the board break.

At one point, Mr. T’s oldest daughter was testing for a high red belt, one step from a black belt. It was a rigorous test. She kicked the board numerous times, and it looked like her foot had been hurt. I have never seen him treat his daughters differently than the other students. Still, I wonder if, as a parent, it was difficult to watch his daughter struggle. Being both the teacher and a judge, he sat at the table with the two other judges. I tried to observe his facial expression. He remained professional and calm, but something in his eyes showed fierceness for his daughter.

Fellow classmates held up the board as she continued to kick. After a short time, Mr. T got up, grabbed a board, and walked quickly to his daughter. He held it up, and spoke with determination and calm instruction. With each failed kick he spoke intently to her, keeping her focused.

She broke the board.

Her dad was very professional about it, and showed little emotion. But the intensity with which he helped her showed that he was determined not to let her fail. He would not let her fail. He would not let her hard work come to nothing. He was determined to see her claim victory.

Mr. T often says that breaking boards is as much an emotional and mental test as it is a physical one. The hard boards represent obstacles in life that must be faced; a test of perseverance in hammering at the wall in front us. Maybe that is why he advocates so intensely for this particular part of the test. He knows his students want to break their board. And he wants them to experience a breakthrough.

“Sow righteousness for yourselves and reap faithful love; break up your unplowed ground.
It is time to seek the Lord until He comes and sends righteousness on you like the rain.” (Emphasis added) (Hosea 10:12).

God the Father is our fiercest advocate. He does let us fail, and learn hard things that we must learn.

Yet because of grace, He steps in and coaches us, loves us, and holds the board until victory is achieved.

But He is God the Father, and He does more than hold the board. He is the very power behind every movement that leads us closer to His heart, and closer to a breakthrough.

God loves to see His children experience victory.

Some of us are weary from kicking our board, just bloody and bruised with no sign of victory. And we don’t necessarily know why.

In Part II, I want to share with you some important weapons, and some possible “whys” that may reveal our struggle to achieve a breakthrough.

Please join me again here next week, dear friend.

Breakthrough is in sight.

One of my favorite events during the holidays is to watch my children in their seasonal performances. It is a moment when the materialism and busyness of Christmas briefly stop, and we focus on little souls and little hearts that exude Christmas joy.

I was sitting in a room full of parents and grandparents watching my kids in their homeschool Christmas program. My youngest was in a group that had been learning sign language. They performed their sign language skills accompanied by the classic song, Do you hear what I hear?

I will let that sink in a minute.

Their message roared as those beautiful little seven-year-old hands swayed and moved with silent beauty, in a song I heard countless times. I soon felt silent tears hugging my cheeks.

No words spoken. But we all heard them. I heard it more clearly than ever before.

Do you hear what I hear?  “Then the eyes of the blind shall be opened, and the ears of the deaf unstopped; then shall the lame man leap like a deer, and the tongue of the mute sing for joy” (Isaiah 35:5,6). The deaf, the blind, the lame… they will hear and see and jump for joy. The message was profoundly communicated with no sound at all. Just as there is a language with which deaf people “hear,” there is a deeper language that we have all been created to hear.

On the night of the Savior’s birth, God sent angels to deliver the message of hope, freedom for the captives, and light overcoming darkness. The ambassadors sent to hear and convey this transformational message to the world were the most upside-down choice in the culture of that day… shepherds. The angels did not descend in glory to tell the rich and powerful that the Sovereign King of all Creation had humbled Himself into the form of a vulnerable infant. They came to shepherds. The lowest of low in society, their testimony was not even acceptable in a court of law. Yet, the testimony of what they had seen and heard was entrusted unto them by the angels of heaven.

Being deaf or blind or lame or poor or an outcast did not disqualify people from witnessing and hearing one of the most crazy-amazing events in human history. God spoke to them in their language. Not just their verbal language, but their heart-and-soul language. Jesus spoke the love and hope that the world so desperately needed in a language they would understand. He did not ask people to figure it out on their own, or to do anything special or difficult to know Him. The Savior revealed Himself to them in a way that would meet them right where they were:  Hurting, grief-stricken, poor, weak, discouraged, sinful, addicted, broken-hearted.

The Heavenly Father spoke in a language that everyone could hear. We don’t need a special translation to comprehend the language of Jesus’ love. Jesus knew what the world needed to hear, and how to speak the message in a way that everyone could equally hear and understand. He made Himself known whole-heartedly and held nothing back.

I have watched several friends experience tough losses this holiday season. I have seen friends suffer with physical and mental illness. Yet I have seen the joy that these dear friends still have. Deep, abiding joy. Not the counterfeit “Hallmark joy,” but the real stuff that defies the notion that contentment exists only in a “we are all healthy and happy” bubble.

Such enduring joy would be unexplainable without the reality that Jesus Christ came to be with us. He desires us, wants a relationship with us, and deeply cherishes us.

Joy is possible because God speaks the language that holds broken hearts close. It is a language that enlightens displaced hope and uncertain futures.

To all of us, Jesus speaks in the language our hearts understand. He speaks to each of our hearts where we are, because He came to set our hearts truly free.