Seasons

I love spring.

I mean, in Florida there isn’t much of a transition since we go straight from winter to summer with maybe three nice days in between, but I still take what I can get. The seasons are so amazing if you stop to think about it, how they consistently keep moving, cycling, circling back around naturally as we stand in wonder. That’s the beauty of intelligent design – as if we didn’t already see that everywhere we look. I love the seasons – well, except maybe summer. I really have no use for it, but I guess it has it’s purpose – probably something similar to spiders and hiccups. I just know I’ll have a lot of questions when I get to Heaven! 

But the metaphors here are pretty huge. Take fall, for example (which I consider my favorite). Everything’s dying. Literally, plants just stop blooming, nature hits the off switch, and all the thriving that happened all year just shuts down. But in the midst of that is some of the greatest natural beauty in the world. The most vibrant colors and memorable sights happen as old things die. It’s incredible.

We don’t look at the reality when we see the beauty, we just gush and take a picture. But the reality is that death is what introduces it – a shedding of everything that was once used to identify the tree, plant, or whatever is dying. It’s stripped of it’s identity and left bare for the world to see.

It’s beautiful and ugly all at once.

Then winter comes.

Winter’s kind of the hopeless season when it comes to nature. Not only has everything beautiful been taken away, but it’s been left there with no view of any change in the future. And not only that, but things like snow, hail, sleet, and storms all cover up any resemblance of what it once was. It’s cold, it’s dreary, and it’s darker than any of the other seasons. It stretches out for months on end with no hint of change or glimpse of improvement. 

Now, we know that eventually spring will come, because we’ve seen it. Winter might stretch on longer than we think we can take (which is probably how y’all northern readers feel right now!) But in reality, spring has never not come. So we have faith in it, that we’re going to see the end of the dark, dreary, hopeless season. 

Which kind of makes sense. 

We’ve all had our winters. Some of us have had a lot of them, and some of us have much longer winters than we think we can handle. And I’m willing to bet every single one of you can think of at least one “winter” that you’ve experienced. You might be going through it right now. That time when everything good seems to have shriveled up and fallen, only to be covered up by the snowdrifts that trap you in the hopelessness of this season. I’ve had plenty of those winters, where the darkness had a field day and the bitter cold of this world made it feel like it was always going to be like that. When the sun’s behind a cloud so long you wonder if it’s even there anymore. 

I get it, more than I could probably get across in words. 

But it’s a season.

Season. That’s a word I always took for granted, breezed over without any thought. I knew Ecclesiastes 3, and the whole “A time for this, a time for that” chapter, and that the phrase “season” was kind of copyrighted by church people. But it never really clicked for me until the past year, and a whole lot started to make sense around that time.

Because they really are just seasons. Our problem as nearsighted humans is that we focus on what’s going on now. We get a laser focus on the problems, the pain, the hopelessness, the immediate, that we sit down and stay there, convinced that there’s nothing else in the world. We don’t stop to look back and realize that winter has been here before, and it gets replaced by Spring. We don’t look forward in the hope of that season that will come when the snow melts. No, we just sit in the snow and wish it wasn’t there. 

But maybe it needs to be there.

This is my first blog post since the day before my car accident two months ago. At the time of the wreck, I was going through a lot already. I felt like my life was going nowhere, that despite everything I was doing every day, nothing was ever going to change. And it most certainly wouldn’t change for the better! I couldn’t see a way that God was going to change this dreary season, and because I’m nearsighted, I had a hard time trusting that He wasn’t. 

Then the accident happened, and left me in a daze for a month afterwards. That was one of the hardest times of my life, where I not only didn’t see how God was going to bring good out of it, but I didn’t see how anything was going to be brought out of it at all. I wasn’t just stuck in a sense of not having life direction – I was physically stuck. Snowed in during one of the hardest winters of my life.

But it’s just a season.

We’re definitely nearsighted, but that doesn’t mean we have to be. One of my favorite verses (that also happens to be the theme of my novel) is Hebrews 11: 1,

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”

We can’t see flowers when it’s snowing, but we can believe that they’re going to sprout up. We can’t feel the warmth of the sun when the clouds have covered it up – but we know it’s still there. We can’t hear the birds singing, but we can trust that we will, even during the hardest storms of the season. 

Because we can believe it’s a season.

Because spring comes. 

And what does spring do when it comes? It does it subtly. You keep moving, living, (however challenging it is), and you start to notice the snow is melting. And you keep moving, then all of a sudden one day you hear a bird singing. And you still keep living, until one day you notice little flowers starting to bloom where the ground was nothing but ice before. 

And all of a sudden, winter is a memory. And it’s replaced by the warmth and joy and life of spring, and we watch new life blooming where death was before. And the biggest thing is, if all those dead leaves had stayed on the trees, there’d be no room for the new ones now. If all of the old hadn’t fallen, the new couldn’t grow. If we didn’t go through that winter, then we couldn’t blossom once our spring season finally came. 

And that’s why we need winter. 

We’re nearsighted for a reason. If God gave us His glasses and showed us every last thing that He was doing in our lives, we wouldn’t need Him. But that’s what faith is for. So that when we can’t see more than two feet in front of us, and even when all we can see is hopelessness from our perspective, we can see Him and let that be enough. We can know He’s there and rest in that alone. And we can sit back and watch the snow rush around us, and smile in anticipation of spring. 

Because spring always comes. 

I had no idea how God was going to use everything that had happened to me for good. All the winters, all the sadness and pain and fear and confusion and hopelessness. That’s all I could see. The hardest thing for me was – and honestly, sometimes still is – to trust God when I can’t see. To know that He’s still there, that the sun is still shining behind the clouds, and that He’ll bring spring in His timing. But He taught me a lot through my winter, and one day I woke up to find it was finally spring. That beautiful season that brought a whole new life with it – a life more beautiful than I ever could have dreamed. 

He is faithful. And no matter how bad it’s storming outside, He never leaves us in any of our seasons. And if we have faith, we’ll see His hand in every season of our lives, good or bad. Because He uses it all for the good of those who love Him. 

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under Heaven.”
~ Ecclesiastes 3:1

 

I Wrote You a Letter (Poem)

In silence I walk to Your alter,

Not another breath breathed in this place,

For years I have come here to worship,

Yet now it’s only empty space.

Your words have I heard quoted often,

Praises lifted a thousand strong,

Yet desolate now it has reached me,

And emotion finds itself gone.

No words can emit from these lungs now,

No paraphrased verses to read,

No memorized lyrics of worship,

Not one note dares me to sing.

No, only a question I utter,

A three-word question remains,

And through everything this place has taught me,

Still now it questions the same.

Who are You? My lips lightly whisper,

Though no one surrounds me to hear,

Who are You? I ask in a question,

If You are inclined, bend Your ear.

In this silent place of confusion,

To listen, as always, You do.

But more than that is my request now,

From Your lips might you answer me too?

~~~

“I wrote you a letter,” You answer,

In a voice clear as never before,

“I wrote you a letter,” You tremble,

“So long before you were born.

I wrote you a letter, in times,

Where such things just were not allowed,

When little men felt theirs the power,

To strike those who followed Me down.

Yet those who were true to me realized,

Their task was worth any demise,

For the letter I placed in their fingers,

Revealed My heart before human eyes.”

“I wrote you a letter,” He repeats,

“So long and so rich and so vast,

Not a simple one-page of devotion,

But a story a lifetime will last.”

“I wrote you a letter,” He urges,

“Recounting events from long past,

To show you how faithful My nature,

To show you how my patience lasts.

I wrote you a letter of victory,

Where I led those I loved to their land,

I wrote you a letter of mourning,

Where, gone astray, that land they passed.

I wrote you a letter of purpose,

Detailing My plan for mankind,

I wrote you a letter of sorrow

Where my gift was destroyed by their crimes.”

“I wrote you a letter,” He presses,

“My fingerprints shown in the words,

Where despite the transgressions and heartache,

I formed a new plan for this world.

I wrote you a letter of sacrifice,

There was only one thing to be done,

A blameless Man must die in your place,

And that Man in the end was my Son.

I wrote you a letter of freedom,

What I offered had no price to pay,

And I wrote you a letter of warning,

For that offer expires someday.

See I wrote you a letter so honest,

I hid nothing in it from your sight,

Though salvation is clear and inviting,

It’s a choice, and you must make it right.

I wrote you a letter, He sighs,

And I can hear pain in His voice,

I wrote you a letter, He tells me,

Yet you’ve only consumed it with noise.

You ask who I am, as you well should,

But child you should already know,

Yet instead my children create

A God that fits their own mold

You wrote your own letter, He mutters,

Of a Savior who’s so unlike me,

One that turns a blind eye to transgression,

And whose gift is described as so cheap.

My likeness is used for your humor,

And My name thrown around just for gain,

So many here claim to follow me,

Yet they never have called on my name.

I wrote you a letter, He sobs,

And I weep for you all as it turns,

That I offered myself as your ransom,

Yet you choose to be slaves to this world.

I see your pain reaches so deeply,

Much more than you realize or see

And I know that the only one capable,

Of healing your sorrow is Me.

Yet you fill yourselves up with your own selves,

Create gods who will fit your desires,

Gods who prosper and heal and bring peace,

Gods who will fill you inside.

Yet you come to the end of this façade,

Find yourself emptier than before,

And this masquerade Deity who took My place,

Won’t bring you peace anymore.

And the tragedy lies not even in this,

But what happens in what you now feel,

For this god that you worshiped, you thought it was Me,

Now you curse Me and say I’m not real.

I wrote you a letter,” He whispers,

“And it lies unopened and sealed.

With a layer of dust, and it’s brittle and torn,

But what it contains, ever more real.

I wrote you a letter,” He gazes,

And tears in His eyes start to swell.,

“I told you who I was before you were born,

And I told you who you were as well.

I wrote you a letter,” He concludes,

“And My answers remain there inside,

There’s the choice I now leave here before you,

To read it or lay it aside.”

Villains

As some of you may know from following me on social media, I have recently become a Dr. Who fan. This latest addition to my sci-fi collection introduced me not only to an incredible protagonist (although I’m not so quick to accept anyone but the 10th Doctor at the moment), but also most recently to a seriously villainous antagonist called “The Master”. As bad guys go, this guy had some serious issues, and was definitely the type where you weren’t exactly crying when he got his.

And being the writer I am, I began to examine the character, and that led me to thinking about villains in general. Every good protagonist had a villain of equal intensity, with the same amount of bad as the protagonist had good. Think about it. Luke had Darth Vader. Sherlock Holmes had Professor Moriarty. Superman had Lex Luthor. Peter Pan had Captain Hook. Movies, TV shows, books, every piece of fiction gives us a good guy and a bad guy.

That’s what makes fiction great.

But what makes it even greater is how much it reflects real life. No matter the dragons, no matter the fantasy worlds and made-up characters and everything fake about fiction, it’s more realistic, often, than we give real life credit for.

Especially when it comes to villains.

Now what I love the most about the whole good-guy-bad-guy plots, as cliche as they get, are the “confrontation” scenes. That scene where we’ve spent the whole movie/show/book watching the struggle of the protagonist trying to stop the antagonist, trying to save themselves, the world, the girl (yes, I said I liked it cliche!) from the evil grip of a guy (or woman) who simply has no understanding of morality, and now it’s reached a head. My favorite ones go something like this: The hero was caught trying to break into the palace or something, and he’s dragged to the lair of the antagonist. He’s shoved down to his knees, looks up and meets the riveting stare of his arch-enemy, who stands over him with the power to end his life right in that moment. We’re on the edge of our seats, but the hero isn’t. He just calmly looks up at this egomaniac he’s been trying to stop for who knows how long, and he’s not afraid of him.

Cue the music. Somehow the bad guy gets beat and the good guy saves the day. And, if it’s sci-fi, you can even turn back time so no one knows it happened in the first place. Happily ever after.

Now let’s back it up a bit, because this is important.

Because if art imitates life, and fiction is based on reality, then these ultra-bad maniac villains are coming from somewhere. Sure, we writers are making them up, but they’re based on something in reality. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never met anyone like Lex Luthor or Moriarty. Because even if these type of guys exist, we generally don’t run into them on a daily basis. So where are they coming from? Where are the real-life villains?

I asked myself this, and it dawned on me. They’re everywhere, and we don’t even see them.

We’ve got villains, all of us. Each of us. We’re each a protagonist, and we’ve all got our villains.

Your worst fear is your villain.

Your greatest regret is your antagonist.

Your past is your arch-enemy.

Your insecurities are the henchmen.

We fight them, try to overcome them, try to win this war we’re fighting with unseen forces. But they still keep coming. That memory you wish you could erase. That mistake you wish you could undo. That fear you feel constantly, the anxiety, the insecurities, the shame, the pain. They all want to see you fail. 

And sooner or later we all have that moment – or, if you’re like me, several of those moments – where you get caught breaking into the palace. Where your villain catches you living, about to beat them, and they send their henchmen down to seize you. They drag you back, all the way back to face your antagonist, force you to your knees as they look down at you with that evil grin that says, “I own you. You bow to me. You are mine.”

Oh yeah, it’s that serious.

And I know you understand exactly where I’m coming from. 

But if we’re really being honest, all these fears, regrets, and insecurities aren’t really the villain. No, not even close. They’re just henchmen too, grabbing at you, capturing you, dragging you back to their Master – the one who’s been trying to capture you your whole life. The one who wants you for his own, who wants one more soul held captive by him and away from his arch-enemy. He’s really a villain, an all-out world-conquering, murderous maniac. And he doesn’t have horns and a tail either. No, I picture Satan more as the Master – the one int he expensive suit, looking so perfectly human and innocent, with a depth of evil that can’t be fathomed.

Yeah, he’s the villain. And when you’re backed into that corner of fear, he’s got you on your knees before him, saying “I own you. You bow to me. You are mine.”

And, of course, that’s when you, the hero of your epic adventure story, can look up at your arch villain with absolutely no fear, and say, (while, if you’re me, impersonating David Tennant’s voice): “Well, not really. Because you see, I’m not afraid of you.”

Now you can only picture what it’s like when we’re watching the movie and the hero says something like this. Our reaction is something like, “What?? Don’t say that – he’s going to kill you!” But what usually happens in this case? The hero’s all confident for who-knows-what-reason, but we come to find out he’s got a plan, that there’s someone on the other side of the villain, someone in the background about to shut him down, some technical error only the hero knows about. Somehow, some way, he’s got a secret weapon. Because if it was just him there alone, you better bet he’d be scared to death. But the hero’s not alone.

And neither are you.

When he’s got you cornered and all seems hopeless, you aren’t alone. And you can give the villain a grin because you know it. You know that he knows that you know who’s with you in that moment, when he’s got you on your knees, and right behind him is his Arch Enemy. And what follows is the epic confrontation not between you and your enemy, but between your Savior and His enemy. And the best part is that He has already won.

Out of all the hero stories I’ve ever heard, my favorite is the one that took place 2,000 years ago. The one where the villain had the Hero arrested, beaten, dragged by his henchmen up a hill, nailed to a tree, and killed. Can you picture Satan’s maniacal laugh in that moment? He’d wanted Christ killed for all of eternity, and now God had been stupid enough to become a human, so all Satan had to do was have the other little humans kill this one? It was too easy! And now the precious Son of his arch enemy was dead. He had won! He had God in flesh on His knees, cackling over Him, “I have won.”

But God wasn’t scared either, because He knew the secret plan to bring down everything the villain thought he had. To defeat death, the greatest villain, to bring down his rule and conquer his ancient enemy. When that stone rolled away, He not only defeated His villain.

He defeated yours.

Now, the villain still exists. He’s still roaming around, trying to convince us he’s got us. He’s still bringing us in and hovering over us with that evil grin, hoping we don’t know he’s beaten. But we do. 

So when he’s got you in that moment, when you’re thinking there’s no hope, that he has won in your life, that no one’s going to come save you, when you’re on your knees and he’s whispering all these lies to you, look up. 

Because your Hero is standing behind him, ready to rescue you.
And we don’t have to be afraid.

And that’s when you can look at your villain, smile, and confidently let him know that you’re not scared of him.

Because you’ve got the God of all eternity on your side.

And He’s already won.

 

 

The Pretty Girls

This world has a picture of what the “pretty” girls should look like. And that’s one of the saddest facts about the fallen world we live in. A predetermined image is set in the minds of everyone. And the only result it’s ever had is hurt. The hurt of girls on both sides of that image – the “right” and the “wrong” looking ones. The ones who think they don’t look good enough, or as “pretty” as the next girl. The ones who think there’s something wrong with them when really they’re more beautiful than they ever know.

But the ones on the other side are hurting too, and sometimes it feels like they get lost in the mix. The ones who are skinny, acceptable, or “good-looking” by that horrible standard. The ones who feel like they aren’t allowed to be pretty without side effects, without the jeers, the comments, the gawkers. Without seeing that look in a man’s eye and knowing what they’re thinking of. Without knowing that to such a large percentage of the world, they are nothing more than eye candy.

I was flipping through TV earlier today, and I came across a game show I haven’t seen in years. And it’s really weird how life can change your perspective so much – because the only thing I could see were the “pretty girls.” And it made me really sad. The perfect models, dolled up, dressed up, smiling perfectly, with nothing but their name and image revealed to the world as they stand there just… looking pretty.

It made me sad that these girls are reduced to nothing more than that, when there’s so much more to them than their looks. What if Cindi wants to be a nurse and is modeling to help afford school? What if Tracy is a single mom? What if Jennifer is struggling with abuse? What if Maria is worried about her sick parent? What if Amy is sick herself? What if Veronica is depressed and sees no reason to continue living, doing this job, dolling herself up? What if these girls are souls, hearts, lives, that no one bothers to think about?

And what if all the pretty girls are too?

I’ll be honest and say this post is coming from one of the deepest, most vulnerable, and most hidden parts of my heart, and that’s probably why I see Jennifer and Amy as more than pretty faces. Because that’s me. Vanity is a vice I’ll never worry about, because the only way I view myself as beautiful is as the masterpiece of my Father, just like every single beautiful girl He ever, ever made. But to most of the men I’ve met in my life, I’ve been little more than the pretty girl. To the whistlers, the jeerers, the gawkers, the ones making comments and gestures, there’s nothing more than a face, a body, a piece of eye candy. They don’t take the time to see the college student, the writer, the daughter of God, the group leader, the nerdy, quirky, imperfect person – just the shell. Just the pretty girl.

And that hurts.

And I struggle to think what these guys are thinking when they do that. How do they think it makes a girl feel? Do they think we like it? Because I’ve never met a girl who does, really. And speaking from this side of the moment, gosh it hurts. It’s made me angry. It’s made me cry. It’s made me speed off at 80 mph in a 50 zone just to get away from that car with that driver who’s honking and shouting comments. And when it’s someone closer to me than a random driver, it’s made me feel the deepest kind of pain by thinking I’m worth nothing more than a body for men to gawk at. It’s never a good thing.

Now I don’t write this post for sympathy. I know who I am and how loved I am by the Father who made me. I praise God that I am free from the insecurities that badgered me as a teenager, and I am overjoyed every time I meet a girl who knows her worth as well. No, I write this for two reasons:

1. To honestly just get something off my chest that’s been there for years. To finally put into words something I’ve really never told anybody.

And 2. Because I know there’s another girl out there like me. One who’s reading this and knows EXACTLY what I’m talking about. Or honestly, a guy who feels the same. (Just because I write from a girl’s perspective doesn’t mean it doesn’t apply to a guy who relates to this as well! Because you’re a glorious masterpiece too.) Because feeling like you’re the only one out there is one of the worst feelings out there. It makes you keep things inside that you weren’t meant to hold in – and hold onto the hurt that others have caused. Whether it’s a comment at a stoplight or an ex who convinced you that you’re only good for your looks, I know that there are others who feel the same way.

And my dear, I’m writing for you.

Because you are more than a pretty face. All of you. Each of you. You are a masterpiece, an intricately designed work of art unlike any other who ever was or ever will be. And that’s because you are loved for who you are. For the inner geek who loves Dr. Who. For the quirky girl who shares memes. For the extrovert, the introvert, the one in between. For the girl who loves her hobbies, her family, her friends, her dog, her schoolwork, her volunteer work, traveling, cooking, drawing, running, swimming, reading, doing her nails, singing, dancing, her favorite foods….

For who you are.

You are a complex world filled with more than meets the eye, all wrapped into the beautiful mind, spirit, soul, heart, and body you were given. And you are worth more than anything.

Girl, you are priceless.

We can’t change this fallen world. We can’t make everyone see the result of their choices, their words, their actions. We can’t fix this world, but Jesus is already on that. HE’s already got you in His hand, and He holds all your tears. He feels your pain and cries when you do. He knows the broken pieces of you and wants to mend them more than anything. So give Him your heart. And not just once. The relationship we have with Him isn’t an instant fix with one prayer – it’s a daily thing.

The Bible urges us to do this continually: “Cast your cares on Him, for He cares for you.” Every single day. Every single care. Every single thing that causes pain. Give it to Him, to hold and absorb into the unbelievable depths of His love.

I love the second part of that verse, “… For He cares for you.” So often we think that something’s too small to bother Him over. “Well, there are people going through so many worse things than this. I’m not going to bother Him with this right now.” No!! When we say this, we’re limiting His power, and His love. We’re saying He can’t handle all our cares, but He says He can. He says that not only can He handle them – He wants them. He wants to take them so we don’t have to carry them anymore. Because He loves us that much.

Darling, you are loved, and ever single piece of hurt that others inflict with their careless actions doesn’t have to eat away at you. It doesn’t have to hurt you like it does, because when you ask for His love, after awhile it eclipses everything else. The pain, sorrow, shame, fear, all of it. Eclipsed and absorbed into eternal affection from an unfailing Father.

Because we aren’t the pretty girls. We’re the beautiful daughters.

And that’s all that matters.

She is more precious than rubies,
And all the things you may desire cannot compare with her.

~ Proverbs 3:15

Fear Not

I’ve probably heard the Christmas story a hundred times. You probably have too. But that doesn’t stop it from filling our hearts with joy as Christmas comes around. I’m not a fan of the commercialization, but it’s never really bothered me. I love shopping for presents to give to those I love. I love decorating (in my house we go all-out in this area!). I love the music, the lights, the movies and TV specials, all of it. I love Christmas.

As I’ve gotten older, (yeah, I’m pretty much ancient! 😉 ), I’m glad to say that the true meaning of Christmas has gone from “Yeah, blah blah, I know that,” to something that consumes me not just in December, but all year long. I love Christmas, but I love Christ more. Something that came to me earlier this month (and if you follow me on Instagram you may have seen it), was the fact that Jesus was: “The Child who came to save us from ourselves.” And that pretty much sums up the past years of my life. I needed to be saved… from myself. And every day new mercies from Him continue to shape me into something I couldn’t have ever dreamed of. 

You see, Christmas is about hope, peace, joy, looking forward with a fresh perspective of knowing and remembering Who freed us from the chains we put ourselves in. It’s a joyful time that fills us with renewed happiness in Him. And the most amazing thing is how He did it.

One thing that had me confused for the longest time was the term “Fear not.” I mean yeah, it’s pretty simple, but putting it in context here was a little crazy. Think about it. Look how the Angels all practically introduce themselves: 

“Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. And behold, you will conceive in your womb and bring forth a Son, and shall call His name Jesus.”

“Joseph, son of David, do not be afraid to take to you Mary your wife, for that which is conceived in her is of the Holy Spirit.”

And behold, an angel of the Lord stood before them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were greatly afraid. Then the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy which will be to all people.”

I always marveled when I was a kid as to why these people were so afraid. I mean, if some big, shining Angel showed up in front of me telling me God chose me, God had a message for me, God wanted to tell me something awesome, I’d be stoked, right? That would just be the coolest thing that ever happened in my life. So why is everyone having a panic attack? I mean, I guess a big, glowing Angel would be a little startling (especially on a pitch-black hill near Bethlehem), but afraid? Isn’t that a little extreme? 

Now that I’m older, though, I think I get it. I think I understand the fear. When we look at Christmas, at Christ, at God Himself, in the modern age, we know what He’s done. We see the whole story of Salvation played out in His book, and we even know how it’s going to end! We see Christ, the Savior, come to save us from ourselves. From sin, Hell, and damnation. Just like, unlike the disciples, when we read Christ’s death, we know He’s coming back in three days. We know that God so loved the world that He sent His only Son for us.

But they didn’t know that.

Sure, they had prophecies – pretty ancient ones. Sure, they did sacrifices, prayed the prayer, burned the incense, didn’t eat pork, covered their hair, and did all the covenants and rituals (which were WAY more intense than most of us realize, by the way!). But none of it was getting them any closer to God. None of it was really working. Sure, God promised to let their sins slide if they did all these things, but He was still a distant judge known to wipe out cities in a second. And it kind of blew my mind to realize that none of the people in this story didn’t have the personal relationship that you and I do. They struggled every day trying to keep God’s approval, knowing full well the wages of their sin was death. But on the other end, they didn’t have a Savior – yet. They didn’t know. So really, when we look closely, Mary, Joseph, the Shepherds, everyone, they weren’t scared of the Angels.

They were afraid of the One who had sent them.

They were afraid of God.

And that’s exactly why Jesus came.

When the Angel says “Fear not,” he’s basically relaying two messages from God. The first is pretty much to calm them down. For all they knew, God had sent this big, glowing, possibly winged creature to them in the middle of their work day (or night’s sleep) to strike them dead for a sin they’d committed. So the first thing God is saying is, calm down. I bring you good news. You’ve found favor with God. It’s going to be okay. And that leads us to the second thing God is telling them – and us:

I’ve got this.

 

You don’t need to worry. You don’t need to be afraid – because I’ve got this. I’ve got you. I know what I’m doing, and I’m doing it because I love you. Mary, I know you’re just unexplainably going to become pregnant in a society that would want to stone you if they found out. But don’t worry, I’ve got this. Joseph, I know you’re really confused and hurt and think something that totally isn’t true, and you’re questioning all the decisions you’ve made. But don’t worry, I’ve got this. Shepherds, I know you’re kind of panicking right now. I know you’re not respected and you’re looked down upon, and you don’t understand the significance of the Baby in the stable, but you will. You know why? Because I’ve got this. 

The entire Christmas story is God coming through, showing up, and making good on His promises. I’m willing to bet you that the happiest, most joyful one during this entire story was God Himself, because He was finally getting to do what He’d always wanted to. He was saving us. He was finally tearing the veil, breaking the wall, shoving aside anything that kept us from Him. He was inviting us home, into His arms, and telling us we didn’t need to be afraid anymore.

 

Because He had come to us.

“Immanuel, God with us.”

And that’s what Christmas is all about, Charlie Brown.

 

We know the same things that the Shepherds did. God could wipe us out, turn His back, give up on us, but He didn’t do that, and He never will. He loves us SO MUCH that He sent His only son down here to become a man and die because He couldn’t bear the thought of that veil separating us from Him forever. And the Angels just couldn’t contain themselves – just like God couldn’t . Because tonight, Heaven was filled with the most incredible joy ever. They couldn’t even help but get a chorus down here to sing it out, because Jesus was born. Because we didn’t need to be afraid anymore.

And in all the messages of goodwill and peace and joy and hope and love and amazing grace that flooded earth that night and tonight, December 24, 2018, that’s exactly what He’s telling us. He’s here. He came. There’s nothing separating, nothing keeping us from running into His arms right here, right now. Because He came to be with us. Because He’s here now. Because He loves us more than we could ever imagine. And because we don’t have to be afraid anymore.

“All this was done that it might be fulfilled which was spoken by the Lord through the prophet, saying: “Behold, the virgin shall be with child, and bear a Son, and they shall call His name Immanuel,” which is translated, “God with us.”

~ Matthew 1:22-23 

Wishing each and every one of you the most Merry and joyful Christmas ever. Love you all!!

 

 

Look At Me

Look at me.

Just look at me.

You’d really be surprised at how much we say this. I’m an introvert who can’t STAND to be the center of attention, who has to mentally prepare myself for social interaction, and afterwards has to have 24 hours of solitude to regroup. And yet, I’ve said this more times than I can count.

When we see this phrase, what’s the first thing we think of? I always try to draw a mental image for everything, and for this phrase my first thought is of a little child. I’ve got quite a few younger siblings, and so often one of them will come up to me with a drawing or a lego creation, saying, “Look! Look what I did!” Or when one of my sisters tries on a new outfit or one of my brothers decides to climb on something and risk life and limb just to say the exact words, “Look at me!” It’s an innocent image when applied to a child.

But what about when you’re all “grown up” and you still find yourself saying, “Look at me!” Often it’s for the same reasons – we genuinely want someone to look at us, what we did, what we’re wearing, what we’ve created. Look at us, we did something we think is awesome and we want to share our accomplishment. While it’s very, very easy to get carried away in this aspect, even this scenario isn’t what I want to talk about. 

What I’m talking about are those times where you’re alone, in your room, looking into your mirror in despair. “Look at me,” you say, “Just look at me.” The same words as the delighted child, but not the same tone. That’s where I can relate. Because you see, I may not be the most successful person, have a whole lot of friends (I really don’t) or be the first to want everyone to see me, but one thing I’ve proven to be very good at is messing up.

Maybe you can relate. 

I’ve always been a Type-A, control-freak, and perfectionist, and the one who takes the most abuse for this is myself. I’ve spent literally my whole life trying to be “good,” trying to do the right thing, say (and write!) the right words, and improve myself as if I was a car model and needed a new, updated version to come out every year. I put a lot of pressure on myself, most of which I never share with anyone.

So the scene of standing in front of the mirror, staring at myself in disgust saying, “Just look at me,” is a scene I’ve seen more often than my favorite movie. Just look at yourself. Just look at what you’ve done, what you’ve said, what you haven’t done or haven’t said. Look at you. How could you have ever thought you could be anything more? 

These are some of the most powerful and deadly words ever. They’re heart killers. They can take someone and reduce them to nothing in their own eyes. Because Satan’s good at his job. He knows that God has a plan, a purpose, a design for each of us uniquely, and that’s the last thing he wants to see happen. So what’s he going to do? He can’t stop God from fulfilling His plans for us, but he can try to convince us we aren’t up to those Divine plans. 

And he succeeds, WAY too often in my opinion. He’s so good that he can take someone so firm int he knowledge of who they are and who God is and just whisper one lie, enough to make them crumble. Through some teachings I’ve studied over the past few months, I’ve become aware of how many lies we simply don’t recognize every day of our lives. That God doesn’t really care. That one more mistake is all it will take for Him to disown us. That we might have had a purpose, but we messed up so that’s that. That He doesn’t love us. That He doesn’t see or hear us. That this is all there is and will ever be. And that we’re hopeless.

Reading them like this, it seems unbelievable. “I know that God loves me and has a plan for me,” is something I might say when reading it off in plain sight. But those times when I’m alone at night with memories and failures flooding my mind? When I call out and it feels like there’s only silence answering? Suddenly they seem a lot more possible. 

And that’s where the enemy gets us. When we’re weak, vulnerable, doubting. He comes in and tries to snatch us away from the love we have. We think we’ve failed too much. We think God has to have abandoned us. And we feel like there’s no way we can come to Him now. You think He wants to listen to you? He knows everything you’ve done! He’s got His back turned… right?

There are a lot of verses we see on cute scenery pictures and cross-stitched on pillows. The kind we see on themed signs at Hobby Lobby. We see them, we know them, and we glance over them because we already know what they say. But really, we need to hear them. One of those verses that definitely needs a second glance is Romans 8:38-39:

“ For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

 

So if nothing can separate us from His love for us, and if He really is “the same yesterday, today, and forever”, than the only conclusion here is that when we’re at our lowest, He still loves us like He does when we’re at our best. Just like He said. 

The reality is that He means what He says. So when He says He has cast our sins as far as the east is from the west, He means it. When He says that we are chosen, loved, redeemed, forgiven, and valuable to Him beyond our imagination, He means that too. When we’re standing in front of that mirror in disgust of who we are or what we’ve done, condemning ourselves and convinced we can never change, never be what we should, He’s standing there too. And every time, with every person, He’s saying the same thing:

Look at Me.

Don’t look at your failures. Look at Me. Don’t look at your past or your imperfections. Look at Me. Don’t look at what Satan, the world, or ANYONE else says you are. Just turn around and LOOK AT ME. Because you are capable of things you can’t imagine – but only through Me. You are holy, forgiven, redeemed – by me. You will never be loved by anyone as much as I love you. So don’t look at yourself – Look at Me.

Look at Him.

Look at the sacrifice He gave for you. Nothing can erase that or change His mind. He loved each of us so much He gave Himself. There’s a phrase I absolutely love that sums it up very well:

“If you think you’ve blown God’s plan for your life, rest in this: You, my friend, are not that powerful.

It isn’t over. That’s something I have really learned this year. When we’re sitting there saying “Look at me,” we often think we’ve blown it. It’s over. But it’s never over as long as we’re breathing, and as long as we’re coming back to Him. Sometimes there are detours, reroutes, and changes we don’t expect or even understand, but that doesn’t mean He’s abandoned us. He’s always right behind us, ready to welcome us into His embrace if we’d just turn around and accept it. Ready to look at us with eyes of love that He’s always had for us and tell us the words that are the answer to every question, the solution to every problem, the cure for all our brokenness:

 

 

See Her

This one’s pretty random, but speaks my heart pretty well right now. I debated quite a bit whether or not I would share this one publicly, but I promised to be authentic, because we relate best to the most real, raw things we read. And I’ll keep sharing my heart ’til I’m told to stop. In a world that looks on the outside instead of the heart, it can cause a lot of pain. To the girl (or guy) who is hurting, know that you are priceless and deserve to be treated well. To the person who may be looking, who may have someone come to mind as they read this, I ask as someone who is looked at but rarely seen: See them. And please, treat them the child of the Living God that they are.

 

Before you approach her,

See her.

Observe her.

Look into her, not at her.

Don’t think about her looks,

Or her body.

Try to see her soul.

Her heart.

Her.

Before you talk to her, listen to her.

Listen to her talk to others.

Listen to her laugh.

Then look into her eyes.

And don’t just look at her.

See her.

See the pain behind her smile.

The pain that came from the last person who approached her.

The pain from the one she believed loved her.

The one who broke her heart.

See her.

Look past what you want.

What you fantasize.

What you think may happen.

Don’t think of what you want.

Think of her.

Before you approach her, think of what may happen.

Before you turn on your charm, turn off your thoughts.

And think of her.

Think of what it would do to her,

To have someone else get close to her,

For her to share her heart,

Her soul,

Her thoughts,

Herself,

With another man,

Only for him to break her heart.

Before you try to win her,

Woo her,

Or even get close to her,

Stand back and think of her.

Watch her brush her hair from her eyes,

Look over her shoulder,

As she lets her smile fade.

Watch her when she thinks no one’s looking.

When she takes a deep breath and whispers a prayer.

When her walls fall for a second,

An instant,

And the pain shows through.

See her.

The real her.

And ask yourself if that’s the her you want.

If you’re just interested,

Just looking,

Or if you really care.

Before you talk to her,

See her broken heart,

And ask yourself,

Will you help heal it,

Or shatter it even more?

And if you don’t know,

If you can’t say for sure,

Or if you are just looking,

Turn around.

Walk away.

Because the last thing she needs is more pain.

Before you talk to her,

Before you approach her,

Ask for her number,

Ask her out,

Ask for a kiss,

Ask for her hand,

Or even look at her a second time,

Make sure you know what you’re doing.

Make sure your intentions are pure,

Your heart’s in the right place,

And you’re thinking of her.

Make sure you won’t cause her pain.

Make sure it’s real.

Before you act, think twice.

Look at her.

Look at her again.

And see her.

It’s a Heart Thing

I don’t remember where I first heard that term, “It’s a heart thing.” But it’s stuck with me for quite a while now. This world is crazy, and while I wish that the lines were always drawn in bold print, with everything black and white, that’s unfortunately not the case. There are so many things where we can’t say, “Oh, here’s a Bible verse that says ‘do this’ or ‘don’t do that’.” But God didn’t give us a rule book, He gave us His word. If everything was cut-and-dry, I don’t think faith would be anything like what it is now. We’re given choices, and we often don’t make the right ones. But we have a relationship with our Maker and Savior, and He gives us grace when we need it most. But our actions, our choices, and most importantly our reactions and choices afterwards, give signs of where our hearts lie.

I had an interesting situation happen to me yesterday – probably the last thing I would have expected when I woke up yesterday morning. In the few years (I think it’s been about five?) that I’ve been on Social Media, I’ve had about a handful of encounters with celebrities. By “celebrities,” I mean a few singers, personalities, and even a couple movie stars have interacted with me online (likes, replies, retweets, comments, etc.) It’s a pretty cool feeling to get to talk to someone you admire. But what’s not a cool feeling is when you get into an argument with them – and over 50 of their fans.

Now that’s awkward.

I won’t name names (I’m definitely not like that!), but this music artist whose songs I have listened to for years posted a video that contained some inappropriate comments that were sexual in nature. As many of you already know, this is an area where I’m very passionate against such things, so I commented on the video, calmly and politely saying that perhaps they should remember they are a role model for many people (a lot of them young kids), and they should be aware of what kind of “fun” they’re promoting. In a couple of reply comments I also stressed that I have no intent of judging, for I am as Paul said the “chief” of sinners. If I was acting like that, I’d definitely appreciate a fellow brother or sister calling me out, and I honestly thought that maybe this person would feel the same.

They didn’t.

But that’s not the point.

I was worried that a post like this would seem like I’m looking for sympathy, but that’s just not the case. In the past couple of years of my life, I’ve learned a lot – mostly through my mistakes. But God has been gracious and merciful enough to bring me out of the valleys and give me a bird’s-eye-view of the bigger picture. You see, this world just isn’t a game. I’ts a full-scale war against the princes and powers of the air, and I’ll tell you, our opponent knows what he’s doing.

If an unbelieving artist posted such a video, (and the kind of replies I received), it would be expected. I mean, yeah, it would disturb me and many others who see the truth in what’s going on, but I know it wouldn’t have been half as bad as it was, because the person in question calls themselves a Christian. A recurring theme that has been popping up EVERYWHERE in my life lately (not the least of which is the new Bible study I’ll be leading in my church soon!) is the concept of being SET APART. Different. Unlike this world. And like Jesus.

One of my favorite verses (yeah I say that all the time!) is Matthew 5:14, “You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden.” We’re an example. We’re literally Jesus’ ONLY earthly representatives of His sacrifice and salvation. We’re His children, and we aren’t of this world. So the only logical answer here is that we simply can’t go around acting like this world if we don’t belong here.

I know it’s hard, because Satan does a good job of convincing us that the things we do are harmless. That they aren’t really sins, that we don’t have to be “religious, serious, self-righteous, do-gooders” all the time, and that there’s nothing wrong with having fun. And in that aspect, I partially agree. There isn’t anything wrong with having fun. But what is fun?

And that’s where we get down to the core of it.

Is “fun” something that honors God? Or more importantly, is it something that dishonors God? if so, is that kind of fun really the best idea? Ephesians 4:29 says, “Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen.”

Speak life. 

I wrote a post titled that a few months ago, but it really fits into this situation right here. I was told to lighten up and let people have fun, but what if that fun is dishonoring God and influencing others to do the same? That isn’t fun – it’s dangerous. And we need to be conscious of it. I’ve done my share of being a bad influence, saying and doing the wrong things, and not being the light I should be. And it’s that experience right there that drives my passion.

In today’s society of “don’t judge me” “individual truths” and “political correctness”, we’ve lost one of the key elements to the body of Christ: the act of rebuking. I honestly hope that my close friends and family would call me out if I was acting inappropriately as a representative of Christ (and they have!). I didn’t like it. It doesn’t feel good. It’s embarrassing and can even make you angry. But that doesn’t make it wrong. I’ve lost friends, acquaintances, been blocked, and been put down for doing this, but it doesn’t make it the wrong thing to do. And as Christians in a fallen world, it’s good to remember that, and to remember one other thing:

We’re not alone.

Because those few good replies were also amazing. I’ve had people message me since, encouraging me and having conversations about the dangers of conforming to the world. THAT’S what the body of Christ looks like. THAT’S the truth. THAT’S being a light on a hill.

And that’s worth it.

Even if we don’t always get a good reaction, we should always be willing to speak the truth. Not judgmentally, but lovingly. If you love someone, you want them to be the best that they could possibly be. You want them to live for Jesus and reflect Him. When you love, you care. And that’s living like Christ. Judging, pointing out the speck before removing your plank, isn’t right. But being transparent about your shortcomings while trying to lift up another believer who’s stumbled is the picture of the church that we should always keep in mind.

This world is crazy, and the lines are blurry, but our intentions and actions will always reflect what’s going on in our hearts. I encourage you to look into your own heart – what do you see in there? There’s always going to be a mix of good things and not-so-good things (I see them in myself!). But if we’re willing to recognize our shortcomings and bring them to the Throne, God is ALWAYS faithful to forgive and shape us into something that can reflect His light, and be that city on a hill in a darkened world.

Glass

We humans are funny things. There isn’t another creature in all of Creation that is even close in similarity to us. I mean, we not only look incredibly different from even the most similar creatures (I won’t get into the monkey/ape/Evolution debate here), but we also act and think in a way that far, far surpasses anything else. And that’s simply because that’s the way God wanted it to be. He made us in His image, with His characteristics. We are cognitive, thinking, creative, emotional, complicated, beautiful beings that are the “Apple of His eye.”

But we are more than that too. With all of these complicated features, in a less-than-perfect world unlike the original one He created, come with “side effects.” We are not only capable of great things, but we are also very vulnerable. The miraculous life that is breathed into our complicated human bodies can be ended with something very little Physically, it takes nothing more than an injury or illness that can’t be healed. And with the progress this world has seen over the centuries and generations since it was created, the more things there are that help us, the more things there are that could hurt us. And that’s just in a physical sense.

In another sense, in the emotional and mental capacities that we humans are capable of, come even more vulnerabilities. The saddest thing about this fallen world is the pain that we cause each other. This happens too often, and the result is always some form of damage. In some way, every single person walking around this world right now is damaged in some way, because it doesn’t take much to damage us or break us.

Or shatter us.

So, in a sense, we complex, intricate, magnificent creations are no more than the most fragile beings. We’re made of glass.

And that really is the most accurate description of us. In Psalms we read, “For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well.” We are works of art by a Divine artist. And we aren’t just mass-produced glass either; No, we’re hand-blown works of art, and no two of us are the same. We are beautiful, and made in the image that our Father lovingly designed. We are His creation, and He said “It is good.” We’re His workmanship, and He looks on us with pride.

But then we grow up in this fallen world. Some of us have had it difficult since childhood. Some of us were able to reach adulthood without great, shattering pain, but some of us didn’t. Whenever it came upon us, we all have something – or multiple things – that take the pure, perfect, innocent glass, and shatter it.

Shatter it.

This world isn’t a good place. Growing up, my favorite game was the Game of Life. I thought that it worked that way. I thought you just spun the wheel, and all these things – a spouse, children, a car, a house – all just happened. But this life is not a game. No, it’s a war. Sooner or later we are thrust into it, and more often than not, our initiation involves pain, often a shattering one. We are shattered when we face tragedy, when someone hurts us, when we go our own way and end up in trouble. When we feel like we’re backed into a corner and everything’s gone wrong, when we’re looking at the shattered remains of our innocence, our pure, glass form that was untouched. And it’s in times like that when it feels like there’s no hope.

But that’s when we forget one thing:

The Glassblower is still there.

He sees the broken pieces. He’s counted the hairs on our heads, and he sees our broken hearts, desperate souls, confused minds, and worn selves. He knows it, not only because He made us, but because He became a fragile glass person Himself just so He could relate. He not only sees our pain – He knows it. He not only understands what we’re going through – He went through it too. Whether we did it to ourselves or had pain inflicted on us by someone else, or whether the world fell apart and we could do nothing to stop it, He’s there.

And He is not helpless among the ruins.

I read that quote the other day, and it hit me. I may think that I’m finished. I may think there’s no way out or no way to fix this. I may be scared of tomorrow and hurt by yesterday, but He’s there through it all. And He knows what His plan is.

And it’s not to leave us shattered on the floor.

No, His plan is to take every single one of the broken pieces of His creation and make something more beautiful. Because as we look up at twenty, thirty, forty years old, and see the rugged path life has brought us on, we realize that we’re made up of broken, stained fragments of the glass that God created.

We’re stained glass windows.

 

I’ve done some reading on the process of making a stained glass window. It’s obviously made of broken pieces of glass, in different shapes and sizes. Alone they don’t look like much, but the original process way back was to use colored salt to stain them, and then frame the pieces in a strong metal like steel. Nowadays there are different chemicals involved, but the process is the same – take something broken and turn it into something beautiful.

Make the broken beautiful.

That’s what He does.

He takes our shattered glass, our broken selves, washes us clean in His blood, and shapes our pieces together with His strength as the framework. It will never look the same – it will look better. Because the story of the broken redeemed is the Greatest Story ever. The love of a Savior who doesn’t throw us away, but lovingly shapes us into an even more beautiful creation.

One of my favorite quotes is “Broken crayons still color.” Well, broken glass is still beautiful. We’re all broken. We’re all fragile. We’re all the same. But we are also loved and adored by our Maker, and He won’t let us be trampled. If we give Him our hearts, He can do things with us that are more beautiful than our little human minds can even begin to imagine.

Letting Go

Why’s it always circumstantial? 
Never any real potential 
Obvious and so sequential 
It always ends the same 
Holding out with all that’s in me 
Is it worth all this pretending? 
A story with an ugly ending is never worth the pain 

Since I’m always pretty transparent and authentic with everyone – online and in real life – I’ve decided to make no exception here. A lot of you who I’ve talked with personally know that I have been struggling these past few months – and it’s been almost worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. I’m going to be honest and say that for the most part, we humans don’t really know what we’re up against in this world. Some of us have learned, but it always takes a learning experience for us to realize it.

The Devil does his job very well. He knows what he’s doing, and that’s why he’s still got his job I guess. Because is he good at what he does. He searches for our weakest points – and that’s where he strikes. The best example I can think of comes from the first Star Wars movie, A New Hope. The Death Star was unbeatable, unbreakable, and there was no way to get inside. But they found the one small weak spot, and through it, the entire battle station was destroyed.

And that’s exactly what Satan does.

We could have all the strength in the world, the support, the knowledge, the resolve, the convictions, everything, and he’s going to find that one weak spot to penetrate, and through it, he aims to destroy us.

But one thing the Death Star didn’t have – the one thing we do have – is God.

These past few months, the Devil got into my weak spot – my singleness. He knows I’m not content being single, and he used that. And he also found out that I love people, that I have an extreme compassion and care and love for those who are hurting. I want to help and heal everybody to the point where I will sacrifice myself for everybody else. And he thought it would be a good idea to use all of that against me to.

The result was, as one could expect, that I fell into the trap. And three months of confusion, wandering, pain, temptation, failure, even sin, later, I’m a mess on the floor of what was once a solid battle station. One that was bombed and attacked and raided, all silently, all so perfectly that if you passed by me on the street, you wouldn’t have a clue. No one would know that I was almost hospitalized because the stress of my struggling broke down my physical health. No one would know how many tears I’ve cried. No one would know the pain.

But despite all that, despite all the pieces that need to be picked up, this battle station is still standing. 

Because He who is in me, even when I mess up and wander and fail and run around with no clue where I am – is always in me, and is greater than he who is in the world.

And I’m going to be okay.

The reason I’m sharing this is because I’m pretty sure you were nodding along as you read this. You understand. You relate. Right now you’re probably thinking of a time where you were that burned-out battle station. Maybe you are right now. We all know where our weak spots are and where Satan attacks us. We’ve all been there. We’re all the same.

But our beaten, battered frame is exactly what God will use the most. One of my favorite verses (I have a lot of favorites) is in 2 Corinthians. I was just going to share the one verse, but in reading the entire chapter, I found that I have to share the entire section in context:

“Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships,in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

When I am weak, then I am strong.

And that’s it.

God can’t use us when we’re “good,” when we don’t think we need Him. It’s so easy to let this world distract you from what His will is for you. It’s so easy to fall into traps. And each one of us has that “thorn” in our flesh, our weakness, our weak spot in the battle station. We are all imperfect. We are all weak. But in that weakness, we are made strong, if we lean into Him. If in the moments where the wind and the waves are drowning us, and we have nothing else to cling to, we choose to cry out to the One whose love never fails.

And His strength will be made perfect. 

For so many of us who have been through the struggles and came out still holding onto Him, it’s the most amazing phenomenon ever. A song I love by Mercyme called “Bring the Rain” really sums it up:

I can count a million times
People asking me how I
Can praise You with all that I’ve gone through
The question just amazes me
Can circumstances possibly
Change who I forever am in You

Nothing changes it. Through the hardest times in our lives, Jesus Christ is the same – yesterday, today, and forever. And even in moments where we don’t understand, He does. He sees the future, and He knows the answers. Right now, I don’t know why I am here. I don’t know why things happened the way they did in my life recently. I am sad, I am hurting, I am confused, and I am scared. But my confidence, however wounded my battle station is, is still in Him. These thorns and trials meant to drag us away from God can bring us closer, and I thank God that He is faithful even when we are the straying sheep. 

The lyrics I shared way at the top are from a Tobymac song called “All In (Letting Go)” It’s a song I’ve come back to a lot during these past few months. And its lyrics are the most fitting for what I’m going through right now. One day at a time, one moment at a time, venturing into a path when I have no idea where it leads. Because I trust that my Savior is guiding me. 

‘Cause I’m letting go of everything I am 
And I’m holding on to everything You are 
I’m letting go of everything I once was 
I’m all in 
I’m falling into Your arms again