Blank Spaces

My current situation is sitting in a trendy coffee-shop with a laptop, books and scowl, very official looking writer territory. When I pulled up to this spot, I had a big idea about writing the most phenomenal blog post I've ever scribbled out. Unfortunately, this blank space has been staring back at me very expectantly for far too long and all I've managed to do is become over-caffeinated and underwhelmed. Some days, the inspiration just doesn't arrive. Some days, you labor and deliberate over how to make something happen. Some days, you just cannot. 

And that's where I'm drawing inspiration from today. That uncomfortable place where you know God is around, but you just can't make the connection. Going through the motions and wondering where He will surface again so you can quit holding your breath. Well, friends, I'm going to exhale. Will you take in a deep breath and exhale with me? Just try it. This is the place where our faith grows feet and momentum, where we lean in a little closer and instead of striving and contriving to reconnect and earn the goodness that flows freely, we just do the next right and good thing. We kiss our kids and love our neighbors. We scratch tasks off our to-do lists with a Heavenward glance every so often. We stir soup and run the errands; catch a cold, pay the bills and chase a dream, All the while, God's there. He's smiling, He's loving and He's near. These blank spaces, they are an empty canvas for God to lavishly paint His grace upon in the broad strokes of sunsets and falling leaves; the eternal and perennial reminders of purpose and seasons. This is where we learn the art of  "be still and know" even when we don't feel. A time when well-worn patches grow from knees dug in a little deeper, hoping for that quickening of our hearts. From this place, we learn that we were created for this divine connection and the longing in our hearts becomes louder than the thrum of the chaotic rhythms of our lives. As deserted as this place can feel, we need it sometimes as a reminder to fill. 

So, I'm going to log off here and go do the next right thing. Eat a sandwich. Smile at a stranger. Listen from a heart filled with "me too" instead of "you need to". Love my people fiercely. And every so often, I will glance Heavenward and smile. I have faith that my Father hasn't taken His eyes off me yet. 

"Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever"-Psalm 23:6 NLT

Faulty Structures

I don't remember many specifics about the day I met Jesus. There wasn't anything terribly out of the ordinary going on that day. The day before? I'm not sure. Those were days strung together like so many identical paper dolls cut out of the same tattered sheath. Pain-filled days of feeling like I was a mistake, that life was always going to bear the images of strife and struggle that none of them really stick out in my mind. I imagine it started out with an inherently hopeful heart that was quickly washed on to the shores of my then constant state of apathy. A glance in the mirror would've garnered even more pain as I surveyed everything I saw wrong with myself and quick decisions were made about how little I would eat that day or how much I would punish my body for betraying me with such things as imperfections and flaws. The thought that rose to the forefront of my mind every day of my life for as long as I could remember would hit soon after. I hate myself. 

That day when I met Jesus, I was living under the influence of a multitude of lies and was willing to do anything to stop hearing them, including take my own life. At some point in time, long before that day, before I can even remember, I had started believing that everything about me was wrong. I'm ugly. It's bad to need. I'm not good enough, Nobody loves me. I'm alone. I shouldn't be here. I'm not lovable. If I were different, I would be loved. 

If a stronghold is a structure of thoughts built on a foundation of lies, I had constructed a mansion. The thought that if I were different I would be loved had become my dysfunctional mission statement. I will be different. Other than what I am that keeps getting me abandoned. Used. Rejected. For many years before that day, I made a constant effort to be anything other than the "real" me, During that time I learned a behavior that was borrowed from the serpent itself. 

I started to tell lies. I didn't want anyone to know about my past or my home life and I began to weave an intricate web of things I wished were true about my life, hoping to avoid rejection. Friends at school started noticing that my Dad wasn't around and would ask where he was and I'd concoct a story about how he was in the military and had to fly to some far off locale for an important assignment. He was in the military, but living with a girlfriend somewhere not too far away and didn't have time for things like back to school night or father-daughter dances.  Later on, in middle school I would go on to tell concerned teachers that my parents were traveling internationally when nobody showed up for an awards ceremony. Remember that scene in Pretty In Pink where Molly Ringwald's character didn't want Andrew McCarthy's character to drive her home because she was embarrassed for him to see where she lived? I identified so hard it left my head spinning. Eventually, these made-up scenarios became even more fantastic and I found myself becoming angrier and angrier at my reality. These deceptions were becoming exceedingly difficult to hold together on the outside, but each one became the glue that solidified what I believed to be true inside- if anyone knew the truth, they would reject me. Are you starting to see how twisted a stronghold is? I lied to keep anyone from really knowing me, for fear that they would reject me, which in turn led me to further shame because now I knew their love, acceptance or affection couldn't be real because they didn't know the "real" me. The real me had been bound and gagged and left in a dungeon of emptiness. 

If I've learned anything in my life it is this- nothing gets you into bigger trouble than emptiness. Comfort becomes a demanding and transient little "g" god and essentially is the enemy of fulfillment. In our fallen nature, we get really creative about how to fill ourselves up, don't we? Whether it comes in the form of food, alcohol, drugs, sex, money, gossip, escapism, self-harm, exercise, people-pleasing, intellectualism or any manner of behaviors that we abuse, we find ourselves needing more and more to keep the emptiness at bay. What I've discovered in all of my own empty ventures is that any time you can't get enough of anything, it is because you are missing something very important. Deficient of a healthy way to cope with the emptiness, we become "other", seek "other", and eventually bow down to "other" to achieve a fleeting moment of comfort. Eventually, I became unable to see anything in myself that was good as I had given way to stringing those fleeting moments together to feel anything. People began to lose their value to me as I learned to view them as residing in one of two different camps; those I could get something from and those I couldn't. Guess which camp I spent the most time in? I had become a taker, entitled to my own wants and unable to form a healthy bond with anyone, no matter how hard they tried to love me. To believe that anyone could love me was a painful, dangerous fantasy that I couldn't dare indulge in. I could be whoever I needed to be to blend in with my surroundings and eventually I couldn't even hear the muffled cries of the "real" me any longer.

None of this is easy to admit, but it's real. It is an inside glimpse into how the enemy of our souls begins his unceasing campaign to blot us out. Maybe you experienced some painful events in your past and began to hear the lies too? Maybe your behavior showed up in the form of perfectionism or way too much wine to numb life or even becoming extremely controlling so nothing could burst your safe little bubble- but whatever it looks like I implore you to know you don't have to stay there.

The day after I met Jesus, my life looked exactly the same, but it felt different. There was a hope in my heart that just wouldn't budge and for the first time, I realized that I didn't feel completely and utterly burdened by my past and present. And the possibility that I could even have a future? All of a sudden it felt like I did! One thing I've discovered after giving my life to Jesus is a new perspective on how we don't really fight against a flesh and blood enemy, it is a battle in the spiritual: the enemy can only sloppily copy and pervert what God has already done. The devil cannot create anything new, so he twists and distorts what's already been created. Satan sees how the Holy Spirit comes to renew us and make us Christ like, so he dispatches his unholy spirits to destroy us and make us more like him. Empty, hateful, deceitful and broken. Puts a new spin on "misery loves company", doesn't it?

Jesus sacrificed His life and conquered death to deliver us out of the kingdom of darkness and misery. He poured out our freedom in a red and thick covering over those most deeply felt needs for peace and hope and joy. For faith, for love! Every need met and not because of what we bring but according to His glory. Once I made the decision to follow Jesus, I was transferred over into eternity with Him. Forever. The reign and dominion of darkness on my life ceased immediately. The behaviors, however; they hung on a little longer. I spent many years building those faulty structures and my "flesh" was experiencing quite a bit of muscle memory. Old patterns are difficult to undo, but not impossible. The Bible says it like this, "With man it is impossible, but with God all things are possible"-Matthew 19:26 (NLT). Those patterns have taken some time and total surrender of this sack of dust.  I've had to learn to transform myself by thinking differently about who I am and especially open my heart to receive all of the love Jesus has for me. I've had to learn to accept and love myself as God made me. Rejecting myself was saying He didn't do a good enough work! How do you tell GOD that He messed up? I've severed ties to people in my life who were unhealthy and forged new friendships with people who love me where I am and also keep me on the good and narrow path.  The most beautiful and redeeming part of this journey though? Learning that I was liar for the wrong kingdom because I am an even better truth teller for God's Kingdom. There is the purest, most unimaginable joy that comes into my heart when I am able to minister God's word and truth and show His lost children the way home. No longer do I look at people as a way to get what I need, but now I listen for what God might say they need. Should it surprise me that it is almost always love and understanding?

I understand that shame never has to darken my face again and I am free to let the "real" me out to run wild and free. The work of restoration is not an easy labor, but it is one ripe with discovery.  Learning to stand on a solid foundation of truth that is only found in God's word has helped me form a new mission statement, by the way. Want to know what it is?

Everything God says about me is true!

"For no matter how many promises God has made, they are a "Yes" in Christ. And so through Him the "Amen" is spoken by us to the glory of God."- 2 Corinthians 1:20

Did You See The Size Of That Chicken?

The title of this post is my favorite movie quote of all time. If you are not familiar with it, I'm not entirely sure we can maintain this relationship...

Joking, of course. Spoiler alert- the quote is from the movie Young Guns and is shouted by an addle-brained cowboy who ingests Peyote on the advice of a Navajo Indian who rides in the same gang. In his attempt to enlighten these stiff-necked cowpokes via organic chemical toxins, myriad hi-jinks ensue and the result is pure comedic gold. To my addled brain, at least. Probably not what you were expecting to read about as you clicked your way here, but I am nothing if not transparent. 

And I am also a sizable chicken. 

I haven't posted in almost...I don't know...four months now? I got scared that I wasn't that great of a writer and that y'all were beginning to figure it out. It seemed to me that I was running out of things to write about and lost my confidence. I also experienced a moment of feeling naked and ashamed (so very Eve) at how much STUFF I had just put out there. So, like a big 'ol chicken, I just stopped showing up.

Honestly, it was the best thing I could have done for both of us. In this time, I have hopscotched my way to a new glory and am seeing through a different lens. I can't take anyone further than Jesus has taken me and friends, I had put the brakes on. I didn't want to tread where He was taking me, it was so much easier to just talk about some of the pain and trauma of my past than approach it as Jesus was asking me to do with Him. Entirely more comfortable to sit back and tell all of you how to fix this or that than to actually take a long, painful look at what I was allowing in me. What I don't want to admit is that I got really good at pretending I was fine when I wasn't. So, here I am. Wrecked. Oh no, you aren't getting the end result me. I'm at the very center of a major smack-down in my heart. This is Holy Ground, people. This messy place where we admit that things aren't working, our hearts are no longer just coping and something in our spirit is restless and about to give birth to a God-smeared you. I have co-labored with Jesus for almost a year now to deliver this. Together, we have battled the rulers of my heart named; anxiety, shame, hopelessness, worthlessness, neediness, un-forgiveness, bitterness, anger, and loneliness. Together, we have stood firm against each of their henchmen; isolation, rejection, addiction, perfectionism, apathy, idolatry, control and, suicidal thoughts to name a few. Does it mean that all of these things are magically erased from my life? No, we are still in the thick of battle, but I rest in knowing that each battle is covered by His blood. 

Why share all of this? Because I believe that we all are capable of running from the places in our hearts that seem too scary to run into. I know, I spent a lot of time running from some doozies. Turns out that what is written in Ephesians 5:13-14 is complete truth; "But when anything is exposed by the light, it becomes visible, for anything that becomes visible is light" (ESV) and when I started pulling back the curtains of my heart to let the light in, I began to feel the beams of joy and peace transform the darkest of places. This isn't just a metaphor, this is the the beginning of the very journey I was created for. Discovering who God created me to be. I'm finding my voice. I'm discovering my gifts. It may even turn out that I'm not that great of a writer and I'll get thrown off the internet for poor punctuation. Okay, I really hope I don't discover that. Ack. Ugh...just keep telling me the truth in love. Deal?

What I know for certain though is that I have approached a turning point in my life where people-pleasing now feels more uncomfortable than rejection and that is a VICTORY.  

Another victory? Perfectionism has begun to give way to grace, which means that I require way less in the way of perfection from those around me. That whole, "if mama ain't happy, nobody is happy" was playing out in real life and I want my people ridiculously happy. It only showed how little grace I had for myself when I went around demanding that everyone else should carry on like etiquette school valedictorians. God's love isn't based on our behavior, mine shouldn't be either. Besides, what is a band-aid of grace without a skinned knee? It just sits in the box. 

God isn't interested in perfection from us, He's interested in our heart. Love Him. Love me. Love others. There is plenty of wiggle room in trying to figure out how on all three counts, believe me. Christa Black Gifford pointed out in a beautiful book called Heart Made Whole that the Bible speaks more of the heart than anything else in the entire book! A running theme of that magnitude should give us pause and start asking the simple question of; why?

I had the courage to stop and ask that question. So maybe courage is too strong of a word here. Maybe it was more of a "why won't this yucky junk stop showing up in my liiiiiiiiiiiife??", elicited in a semi-whiny tone. In tears. With snot. I had to get real about the fact that I was the common denominator of said junk and start shoveling through all of the unhealthy stuff my heart had hoarded over the years, long before I knew Jesus.  I honestly didn't think He'd be so interested in all of that broken stuff, but He has been supremely kind of obsessive about going through it and so now, I am too. Means I get to spend more time with this gentle, yet fierce Savior. Means I get to hear His take on each broken piece and come away with jewels of wisdom and the anointing of healing. This has been a precious time in my life. I have realized that nobody was angrier about the pain of my past than Jesus and that He willingly died to take that pain away and rose to conquer it. He is my Defender and Mighty Protector and that's what my soul has been aching for all this time. Someone to love me right where I am and show me that I am worth protecting and saving. This big 'ol chicken has experienced some big 'ol healing. 

Wherever you are in your journey, I ask you today to pray a simple prayer and ask that Jesus reveal who He is to you. He is so faithful to answer. 

Stay tuned as I unpack each of the broken places and what I've learned about the behaviors that came from them. Peace, joy and love be with you. 

You Found Me

You found me.

I wandered so far away, knowing I was lost.

I kept walking.

Searching. Breaking. Dying.

Too many wounds to name

so many faces that haunted me.

Let me stay lost, broken. Dead.

It's easier there, I don't have to feel. 

Looking for You was like walking on glass

a path too painful to take.

So, You found me. 

You tread on sharp places unafraid

the Blood forms a softness

under my feet

So I walk unafraid

across the sea of pain

knowing I won't slip under

You found me. 

So many years ago, you broke bread. Poured wine. Knowing, it was all for me. So that I may be made whole. This kind of love is unreal, yet it's more real than anything I've ever known. 

Thank You for staying in that garden for me, even when you saw the brutality making its way toward You. 

All because I fled the garden and didn't stay and the pain of me walking away from You was greater than anything You ever endured in the flesh. Every drop of blood, like a tear. Every strip of torn flesh, the very splitting of Your heart. The agony of limbs pierced, the truth of our separation. Your death, love undone. Resurrection, love unending. 

You paid the highest cost of love for me. Jesus, you found me. 

 

"but He was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed." Isaiah 53:5

Freedom Run

A little girl of 3 years old, messy hair and starry-eyes, running with her arms outstretched like wings, circling around and swooping low. A smile beaming out from her dimpled face, shining with hope and remnants of her mama's lipstick smeared on in "secret". As she gets further away, she turns to look over her shoulder at the Daddy she's sure is watching and smiles her biggest, she knows when she circles back around from her "flight" that he's going to scoop her up and tell her how pretty and remarkable his girl is. She's loved and she just knows it. She doesn't have to do a single thing but run in the freedom of who she is. This is what her Father calls her "freedom run". 

You couldn't have broken me from that vision if you tried. Rooted in place, arms meagerly raised in "worship", that vision stole the very air out of my lungs. Father, you couldn't possibly mean..

"Yes. I entirely mean..."

He showed me the freedom He wants me to live in. Through the eyes of three year old me, God showed me what it feels like to know. The words "child like faith" consume me and through this moment, I understand something I've spent my entire life trying to chase down.

Effortless love.

This is hard. Seriously this is difficult to look at and watch because my feeble brain is looking for the catch and cannot find one. This moment is untainted, the vision unblemished.

It is called grace and the stuff sticks all over you, thickest in the places where the wounds are deepest. An undeserved gift served up in the least expected places in moments when it seems to be mythical to believe in things like forgiveness and mercy. This is where I collide with love, head on. All of my huffing and puffing in my previous posts leaves me a bit chagrined because this is what God does. God does love without even trying and no matter how much I try, He isn't budging. I can bring Him my failures and He gets all giddy and tosses them over His shoulder like so much worthless rubbish and then leans in for a hug around the neck. He wants to be close to me, the failures aren't to be ruminated on when there is so much love to be given. When I want to whine and squirm about my boo-boos, Jesus is pure focus, willing me to hold still so He can goop some mercy on them. I try to explain how it got there and why it looks so bad and my Savior gives me the "pay no mind" look as He shows me how He paid it all on that cross. If I want to be injured and nurse the wounds for attention or anything short of praising God for the healing that has already begun, well, I can take my mat and park it next to the springs for the next 38 years if that suites me, however; He knows me better than that. He knows His girl better than that. I want to be healed.

I've spent the last few months getting used to a new haircut. Worrying that maybe I should've just left it alone and "what if I don't look pretty?" and God shows me a little girl with a mess of tangled up hair from the wind she's been catching in her freedom run. It's glorious. 

I spend a lot of time thinking about my wardrobe and what I could wear to emphasize this or minimize that and God shows me a little girl who's contagious joy will outlast any fashion trends. It's breathtaking.

My smile gets hidden behind grins and smirks because I'm self conscious about my imperfect teeth and then God shows me a child beaming with such abandon that I can't even describe her teeth, all I see is the radiance of her confidence. It's liberating.

Entire days of my life have been spent consumed with thoughts of being unlovable or not good enough. Days hungry for food, attention or love. Then God shows me a little girl who's body is nourished by full acceptance, never once concerned with whether she will be wanted when she circles back around because the world hasn't tainted how she sees herself and she knows she is seen and thoroughly adored. It's captivating. 

Oh, the effort I have put into trying to get it right and please those around me who seem to have standards I can never meet. Then the image of a little girl, effortlessly just being who she is and it is more than enough, the ease in which she runs doesn't come from thinking too hard about it. She runs the best way any of us can; with the full knowledge that she is seen. Her joy comes purely from knowing that her Father loves her and loves to see her freedom run. 

After all of this time, all of my blustering about; I'd forgotten about freedom. I didn't realize that I was still striving so hard. I cannot explain what exactly happened in my heart today and I won't even pretend to translate it here the way it took place. All I know is that God took me back to a place and time before the world changed my view of Him and myself and life got terribly painful and confusing. In a dazzling moment of pure mercy, I was shown that forgiveness and redemption look like bare feet running in summer grass with only one destination in mind; freedom. It's been a very long time since I've felt those sun-warmed blades of grass under my feet. I remember them though.

Father, take me there. My arms are open wide and I'm circling back to you. 

An Invitation

I've spent some time looking over my older posts. Cringing, laughing and often times just staring at the screen with my jaw dropped to the floor. I wrote that? There's some messy stuff in those posts, friends! Messy grammar, sloppy sentences and mostly, gory truth about some really hard things. At the time, I felt so convicted to just put everything out there and invite all of you into the mountain and valley landscape of my life. Now, it feels so vulnerable! So raw! And I'm grateful. Bringing all of those wounds to the light has ignited a chain reaction of healing in my life that only the gracious love of Jesus Christ could spark. Insisting that you're healed of things doesn't necessarily make you healed; what I found is that I had highly developed coping skills instead of strong and sinewy muscles of uprooting. Coping skills work for a period of time, but they mostly keep you from getting to the root of the pain. Let's admit it, pain is not our favorite destination to visit, let alone dwell in long enough to find the truth in it. I've learned that there is always truth in it though. So, I'm going to share with you what I've learned about pain, healing and moving on. So far.

The question posed for centuries, why does God allow pain? I'm not any kind of expert on God (He is so unfathomable!), but I am an ear-perked disciple of Christ, which puts me kind of in the know. Also, I've experienced the stuff pain produces. 

People cause pain, God does not. In Genesis when God was going about the creation business, He said something pretty profound after He created man; "let them have dominion over..." and then pretty much gives us dominion over every living thing. On Earth. Clearly separating Heaven from Earth, right? So, this shows us a rule that God made for us and Himself. It's called free will. He wanted a relationship with us. What good is a relationship without the freedom to choose to be in the relationship? Aha! It's not a relationship at that point, it is called domination. God expected that as His image bearers, we would reflect His love and that we would not dominate one another. This is about the time the slithery devil whispered in Eve's ear and messed it all up. Where did he come from?? That's for another blog post! The more important question we can ask is, why Eve? Not why, Eve?? But why did he choose to approach Eve. My opinion? The devil purposefully and maliciously usurped God's order. Remember, Adam was created first and was the leader of their twosome. Since the devil is full of lies and deceit, he craftily and spitefully went against the harmonious order God chose. Why didn't God do anything to stop this from happening?? He did. He created Adam. Only Adam did nothing, in fact Adam ate the fruit too. So when you ask the question about pain, it's important to revisit this story which has become almost mundane to most. The answer is, God gave us authority on Earth to be His image bearers. His authority was in Heaven. He created us to be Him, here on Earth. God won't even break His own rules because He is incapable of going back on His word. Man mistakenly trusted a very unreliable source and took it upon himself to think he knew better than God. Sin and death made their appearance and have been whispering in our ears ever since, causing us to treat one another with anything other than the love we were created to bear. Instead, we bear the fruit of the tree we stole from, rather than bear the fruit from the tree of life we were given full access to. 

Many of you may ask again, why didn't God do anything? 

He did. 

He put skin on and birthed His way into our world through the womb of a woman so He could save us from pain, bondage, sickness and death that our mistaken choice created. 

His name is Jesus Christ. 

He has authority here and in Heaven. He has authority to strike the serpent before it even whispers. He gave us the same authority. Are you walking in it or shrinking away from pain and feeling helpless to it? Pain is not your master. Pain is not in charge of you. You do not have to be in bondage to it.  

Pain? It will happen because of that misinformed choice in the Garden of Eve. We don't have to cause it though. We don't even have to wallow in it when others cause it. We still have a choice to bear the Love that was born and died here for us. God in all of His infinite wisdom and love, has kept His rules and still gives us a choice to love Him in return. He still wants that relationship with us and created a way for us to be brought back into that right relationship through a Savior. Only God. 

Hands weren't created to hurt. Hearts weren't created to be broken. Bodies weren't created for illness. Mouths weren't created to do harm. They were meant to comfort, love and give life. If someone has robbed you of these things, there is still hope.  There is always hope. 

Invite the living God into your pain. Let Jesus shine His light into the shame-filled, sketchy, messy, dirty corners of your home, heart and life. He wants to come into those places and fill them with remarkable light. God is not unfamiliar with pain. He took on a human body and was beaten and whipped to shreds so we wouldn't have to be. God spilled His blood to bring us into His presence and willingly let His body be broken so we wouldn't have to break into pieces. And if you're already in pieces, The Good News is that once you invite Him in, its only a matter of time until you're made whole. Complete. Alive.  

Just keep inviting Jesus in. 

"Truly, truly I say to you that whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life. He does not come into judgement, but has passed from death to life" John 5:24

Rest Assured

There is a dog barking a chorus of complaint in the backyard and I can barely think a thought to completion. My thoughts about our beloved pet are not nice right now. In fact, my thoughts about most everything are not nice right now. I'm tired, surly and ready to snap at the first innocent passerby. Lovely introduction, right?

Most people like to label themselves; things like "I'm an extrovert" or "book nerd" are a couple that come to mind. I believe these can sometimes let us off the hook from the reality of some pretty honest situations. We can safely say, "I don't want to people right now" if we make sure to assert our introverted ways, nobody gets hurt, feelings are spared and we can play nice later on. I find this very helpful for most situations, but right now, for me, a certain situation looks like this;

I love people. God created some amazing ones. They make me feel all kinds of tender things, especially the younger, smaller variety, however; I have had my fill of them and all of their needs. Why so many needs?? The tender feelings are turning to survival-ish clawing and biting ones and this is exactly when I know I need a time out. My love tank is dry. As in, you couldn't find a drop in there right now and that is after a two hour nap and a solid caffeine hug. I could blame it on some natural introverted tendencies, easily. But, I'm not a classic introvert and I am not as ready to label myself as much as I would have just a few short months ago. What I will admit is this: I'm completely poured out. Every ounce of goodness I had in me, I spared to those around me and now I need to refill, refresh and regain the laser sharp focus I'm widely known for (my friends are allowed to laugh here...there have been many a joke about distracting, shiny things made at my expense). But, you know what? This is a beautiful way to be. Just ask my family (laugh again, here).

Broken.

Poured out.

In desperate need of strength I do not have.

Wanting to burn all of the clothes that require washing.

Thoughts of breaking dishes that continually require loading and unloading.

Making sixteen PB & J's a week are haunting me and I stabbed one with a butter knife this morning and stuck my tongue out at it.

The Goldfish crackers that show up EVERYWHERE are mocking me and I've declared war on all snack crackers.

SHUT. UP. DOG.

All the makings of things women rarely share with one another in attempts to hide our fragile humanness, I'm waving around in public. I don't want to play the "everything is perfect" game. I want to let it be that I am tired, irritable, hard to love and extremely prone to chocolate right now. And. It. Is. Well.

You know who shows up the strongest, fastest and most able during times like these? The lover of my cranky soul, Jesus. He will take me just like this and when I said His name as I hit the wall of "overwhelmed" at full speed, it was He who came low and scooped me up in the gentlest way. Today, as I sit and listen to the dog barking her fool head off and ALL of the kids playing in the front yard like wild, unschooled jungle heathens, I can breathe in peace and exhale praise. Yeah, I really can. The world doesn't stop spinning when my head is starting to. Ever faithful, ever present, God is looking after His children and I don't have to do a thing but sit back and soak in His love. The laundry will be there tomorrow. The Christmas shopping that I've put off, it will get taken care of. The dinner will be phoned in and picked up. The kids will pile into beds tonight, mostly clean and entirely loved and those whispered breaths of prayers will reach Heaven because it is right here, in the middle of this life that has left me vulnerable and undone. His will is being done when I admit my need instead of labeling it as what others might view as a flaw. I surrender the ideas of being a lesser woman because this world is tough and raising actual humans is supremely difficult. I accept the truth that God's grace is sufficient and His glorious power is being made perfect in my weakness. Even if it looks like a large pepperoni and sweatpants all day. He's covering me, blessing me and providing for my every need. Lord, you do show so much mercy. Candy Cane Hershey kisses are proof.

I believe that Jesus remembers what poured out and broken felt like in a way I will never experience. Yet, He never holds that against me. As we have our very own communion, I find myself being filled.

Tomorrow, I have faith that I will wake up with a sense of purpose that doesn't look like scowling at my offspring, ignoring my emails or growling at my husband. I'm choosing to believe that as I exercise this most holy form of worship, called "rest", my soul is being given the very love it needs to get up and glorify the Kingdom in the days to come. I am enjoying this time, the sweetness of God's capable hands are all over my life and the impossible standards of the world seem miles away. A few moments of discomfort while admitting that I can't do it all have saved me from the resentment of trying to do it all and failing. Grace wins again. I pray I steward this gift wisely.

Friends, striving can be fatal to love. Once you step out of doing anything for the right reason, you immediately step into doing it for the wrong reason. Forcing yourself to "make" things happen will leave you bankrupt of energy and love, both of which are necessary to thrive and make a Kingdom impact. I encourage you to find some time to savor one of the gifts of your inheritance as a child of God; rest. Let Him take care of you. He truly will take care of the rest.

"For whoever has entered God's rest has also rested from his works as God did from His."
Hebrews 4:10

Limping Along

There has been a lot of moving and shaking in my world.

Aside from the typical business that goes down when six kids constantly need something from you,(I totally embrace this, I promise. I get to do this, right?  A dear sister sent me a devotional today that was a wonderful reminder that this is what I signed up for. I couldn't help but laugh. Who signs up for 4 boys???) I decided to go back to school, as well as haplessly lead a blossoming women's ministry in a church that is about to outgrow it's steeple. Yes, I am a wee bit crazy these days and I think I used toothpaste in lieu of pomade to smooth my unruly bangs this morning. 

But seriously, God is still on the throne and in the business of blowing my peppermint scented hair back. I paused for a moment this morning after all six of my charges made it into the hands of their teachers and felt Jesus ask me for my own hands. In my spirit, I could see Him sitting across from me in all his beautiful light. Then there was me awkwardly approaching with great trepidation, laying my hands, palms down in His. What happened next, the image of my Savior gently taking my hands and turning them palms up, riveted me to the moment. "Always be expectant from Me, I want to give you so much". Everything in me shifted.

Of course He does. The ultimate gentleman, He never takes. How do I get this so upside down sometimes? I've been hesitant in my prayers lately. Avoiding my Bible. Feeling like all I've been doing is asking for more and more and more, a crescendo of need filling my prayer time. Yet, Jesus tells me to expect more? I thought I was supposed to feel guilty for wanting more and repentant for asking for too much? This all feels so hard sometimes and like I am never going to get it right. Wait, shouldn't I repent for saying that? Does it offend God that I have questions? What can I do to make it up to Him?? (He knows we have questions and honey, does He have the best answers).

Yeah, therein lies the problem. My squirrelly brain got religious for a spell. I somehow scrambled the relationship that Jesus Immanuel died to have with me because He's completely in love with me and wants my expectation of Him to be exquisitely large. And maybe cut His people some slack because they are people. How did I let religion separate me from my Savior? I started striving and abandoned thriving, abiding and all of the other "ings" that truly belong to God's children. I let works work the love right out of me.

Then, I let thoughts sneak in. "Surely God sides with me and wants this person to change too, so I'm going to pray that He hits them with a 2 x 4". Where is the love in that prayer? "God what do I have to do for my life to look like _______?". Ummm, hello coveting. "Nobody understands how difficult being/doing/having/not having/expecting _______ is". Pity party?! I have a couple of words for you. Bitter roots. They've been creeping. Words hold a lot of power and thoughts comprised of a bunch of negative ones are pretty much like taking vows that say you won't allow yourself to be blessed in the unique way God wants to bless you. If you're not following it means this; speaking a bunch of stupid stuff over your life and watching it go down the path of the bad "ings". Read, sucking. I can't find that word in my concordance. In fact the only other "ings" in the column we would find it in are these two nuggets; stumbling and submitting. God is so good at giving, I can't make this stuff up. It's like He put the problem and the solution all on the same page because if you are doing one, you cannot be doing the other.

I have not been submitting my thoughts to Christ. I have not been submitting my plans to God. He's been speaking to me and I have been another word found on that same column, stubborn. The funny thing about being stubborn is that there are quite a few people who take great pride in being stiff necked and thick headed, however; I am not one of them. I fancy myself as fairly flexible and adaptable, typically keeping a student mentality. Because of the content of what He's been trying to get through my noggin though, I have suddenly become a mule-headed know it all.

There is no perfect formula for accepting love, it always looks and feels awkward when you've avoided it for a long time. Yeah, when it comes to accepting love, I'm a know it all. In an entirely ridiculous way. It's like when people sing Happy Birthday to you and you can't sing along because that would just be weird singing to yourself, so you avoid eye contact and wish everyone would hurry up because they are all staring at you and aren't we supposed to not want attention and adoration? Please tell me you understand this and that I'm not the only one freakishly agonizing for the chorus to end? A long time ago, I spoke things over myself that were untrue and kept them on repeat. God is now replacing those lies with His truth. You know what I keep doing? I keep looking away. I don't know how to be adored. I don't know how to accept blessing. I am spiritually lopsided. "No, God, I will show you how much I love you." Now I understand why we are called sheep, we would literally drown, bogged down by our own weight because we are comfortable in our overgrown wool. Just pretend wool means something heavier there. I told you long ago, I am an amateur writer. Anyhow, here are some examples of what I've told myself. Wonder if any of them will ring true for you as well?

I've done too much to be forgiven.

I spent too much of my life without God, He only blesses those who have always believed.

My past just keeps coming back in my face.

I'm not enough.

I'm too much.

I'm not qualified.

That's not for me.

My life isn't going to be anything great.

I'm cancelling those right now. I cancel every negative thought or action associated with them. I am cancelling them at the Cross and through the blood of my Savior. It is like saying what Jesus did wasn't enough when I accept those lies. IF that wasn't enough, what possibly could be? Those thoughts are well laid traps that have caught me too many times. Want to know the truth?

"But God shows His love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us" Romans 5:8

"Turn to me and be saved, all the ends of the Earth! For I am God and there is no other." Isaiah 45:22

"I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh." Ezekiel 36:26

"But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation a people for His own possession that you may proclaim the excellencies of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light." 1Peter 2:9

"The Lord will fulfill His purpose for me" Psalm 138:8

"Let us hold fast our confession of our hope without wavering for He who promised is faithful." Hebrews 10:23

"Call to me and I will answer you and show you great and hidden things that you have not known." Jeremiah 33:3

God so loved us that He gave His only Son. Too often, it becomes hard for me to wrap my mind around the intimacy of this truth. God could do anything, but He chooses to give to me. To you. 

He chose to give so that we could live, in freedom. So that. Every time God moves, speaks, creates, breathes; it is so that. Perhaps the time has come that I lay aside these thoughts that entangle me so that I can receive this incredible gift that has been given to me. To realize the weight and power of His glory as I open my hands to accept the love and truth of how He really feels about me.  Maybe it is time to stop working so hard at a love that isn't dependent on me at all and faithfully obey the voice of the Lord. Now, as I turn my face toward His, I see it. The elusive "ing" He's been trying to give me.

Blessing.

He wants to bless me so that I may be a blessing to others. Same goes for you. Don't be a lopsided sheep.

Father, all to Jesus I surrender. 

Happy birthday to my hubby, you truly are my blessing. 

Run Your Play

From the bleachers, I hear the voices of parents chiming in on the last play. "I hope that other kid isn't hurt" and "yeah, someone doesn't know their own strength...". 

Then I hear The voice whispering in my ear, "you don't know your own strength either, my girl...". 

Seriously, the Holy Spirit dropped a prophetic grenade in my head in the 4th quarter. I chuckled out loud and self deprecation kicked in immediately. Right now, I'm not feeling all that strong. It has been a trying week, there are strongholds in my life that are coming down and in the process, I feel incredibly weakened by it all. God, I feel like a disappointment to you right now. Do I need to tell you how much chagrin I experienced when I realized exactly what the implications of trying to tell God about myself hit? He knows me. Knit me together and such. Yet, here I am trying to explain that He's mistaken. Funny how when your unbridled emotions and waning self-esteem collide, the end result is pleading your mediocrity with the very Creator of the universe. It is true, that I find myself kinda bland, but He doesn't see me that way. Am I trying to talk God out of me? Not the brightest thing I do and admittedly, I do it with alarming frequency. In fact, when was the last time I gazed into the mirror and told myself things like, "you're gorgeous and brave and you will walk out of this door and bless the socks off some unsuspecting soul!". How about never. I've never talked to myself that way. I tend to run more in the, "I'm frizzy and jiggly made" circles, not necessarily the "fearfully and wonderfully made" ones. How is it that God's unbeatable daughters defeat themselves so readily? How do we collectively breathe out such dissatisfied sighs without a second thought and put so much importance in earthly matters? 

God showed me something through a fourth grade football player though. That play above; the big, strong, fast kid was playing offense. We spend too much time on the defense. By defending ourselves from criticisms from a world full of unloving, bitter people, we place ourselves on the side that doesn't have the ball. I simply cannot find it in the Bible anywhere that reads; "conform, sell out, spend all of your money and time trying to impress people and then when you realize you cannot, come at it from another direction...". Somehow, we have put ourselves on the wrong side of the ball and forgotten the score. God's unbeatable daughters need to learn to play a more strategic offense! We already have the victory, at this point we are just making plays and running up the scoreboard for the Kingdom, yet we are still concerned with how we look when we're running. Just run the ball!! Here's your play: 

"Oh yes, you shaped me first inside, then out; you formed me in my mother's womb. I thank you God-You're breathtaking! Body and soul, I am marvelously made! I worship in adoration-what a creation! You know me inside and out, you know every bone in my body; you know exactly how I was made, bit by bit, how I was sculpted from nothing into something. Like an open book, you watched me grow from conception to birth; all the stages of my life were spread before you, the days of my life all prepared before I'd ever lived one day. Your thoughts-how rare, how beautiful God, I'll never comprehend them-any more than I could count the sand of the sea. Oh, let me rise in the morning and live always with you!" Psalm 139:13-22

The thought that God had His eyes, hands, thoughts and plans all over me before I was ever birthed into this world is one that lends to taking back all of that self deprecation up there and drives me towards repentance. Imagine, at a place and time unknown, He was already gazing lovingly upon the creation of you before He ever put you into motion. All the stages (even that incredibly awkward junior high stage) were spread before Him and He loved us even with waterfall bangs and too much eyeliner. Ok, maybe that was just me, but somehow I doubt it. See, He's a God that doesn't change with the times or fashion trends and while I personally believe He has gotten a kick over a few trends, (hello, 80's hair bands) God knew me then, now and yet to come. While the world around me is cashing in on how little I think about myself, God is wanting to pour out what I should know about myself. An irrevocable truth; Body and soul, I am marvelously made! Without make-up or flat irons (I shudder to think even as I'm preaching it). Without the newest style of clothing. Before skinny jeans and denim were ever invented, God looked at me and breathed, "She is just right" into existence. Just as He did for you. And now, He's going to rebuild our ancient ruins (read: the torn down us that gave into trends, the ancient act of competition and the ruined us with low self esteem). In fact, it reads just like this:

"I'll give you a full life in the emptiest places-firm muscles, strong bones. You'll be like a well-watered garden, a gurgling spring that never runs dry. You'll use the old rubble of past lives to build anew, rebuild the foundations of your past. You'll be known as those who can fix anything, restore old ruins, rebuild and renovate, make the community livable again." Isaiah 58:9-12

Not sure about you, but I want that full life. There are empty places in me that the media and world have hollowed out. Too many times, I have torn myself down when I tried to build on a faulty foundation; my lack of identity. It is time to use the rubble that was left to build anew and restore, renovate and create a firm foundation for the future generations to build on. Ladies, I know it is tough, but would you want anyone talking to your daughter the way you talk to yourself? 

Imagine how our Heavenly Father feels. 

This is a time to build a community that is livable again. A place where girls run in the streets not for profit, but because of the freedom Christ gave all for. We can fix anything because He lives in us. Can we renovate our esteem and build it solidly on the truths God spoke about us? I believe we can. I believe we can choose a new garden to water, rather than tend to weeds and thorns of division and that Jesus will walk in it's midst with the joy that comes only of resurrection. We can harvest a beautiful crop with our lives and words, simply be echoing the sentiment spoken over us thousands of years ago; "I am fearfully and wonderfully made" and mean it. God's unbeatable daughters were created for such a time as this. Let's reclaim our beauty and rebuild. 

My strength is in helping others find beauty peeking through the ashes of life's ruins. When I run my play, God rebuilds His girls. When I align my strengths with others, a community rebuilds a generation. When a generation is rebuilt, the word "slaves" becomes a minority rather than the majority. Girls can run in freedom with their arms spread, circling back around to Jesus when we reclaim and rebuild. The competition in this world is fueling an insatiable lust for heartbreaking things and until we hold ourselves accountable for what we put into the world, we will never offensively run it out of the world, ladies. If we so easily find our value in how a man sees us, we will never change the way men view us. 

Wherever you are, who ever you are, I encourage you to find your strength and run your play. Other people's lives may depend on you not quitting. Know your strength. Run your play. 

"I am your shield, your great reward" Genesis 15:18

That Church Thing

There's this friend I've known since high school who I still keep in touch with, regardless of the 2,000 miles between us. 

We've both changed tremendously since the days of backyard parties and stumbling through the awkward hurry-up and wait phase of a 90's kid in Southern California. Back then, we were always in a hurry to get to the next stage of our lives, but caught in the limbo of growing up too fast and not wanting to be grown up.  Bands like Bad Religion and NOFX had us thinking we were expected to stand up against "the man", all while trying to figure out how to get three bucks to pitch in for gas to get to a party where the cops were always going to show up and someone was always going to get sick in the back seat while making a hasty getaway. There's a weird juxtaposition that happens when you live like that; you know right, you do wrong and then you get up and do it all again in the morning. The whole time, waiting to be somebody, someday.  For some, the parties never ended and you can still find them with a beer can in hand every Friday or Saturday night reliving a past that forgot about them. For others, they actually did the very thing we wanted and feared the most. They grew up and made something out of themselves. Then, the ones who never even made it out alive. All I know is that I have been all three at some point in time. Somehow, this one friendship survived it all in tact though. I believe it comes from a common confusion of wanting to conform without ever really conforming. Also built upon a deep love for pasta, family and adventure. 

The truth is, we both believe in mercy, friend. Looking back, we were both big-hearted saps cloaked as free-spirits who didn't care about anything but freedom. As Janis Joplin breathed out in all her rasp on your 18th birthday, "freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose".  I think we both learned that life doesn't start when you hit 18, it really starts when buying into our own freedom leaves us bankrupt. When that thought of "when does life start for me?" played louder in our heads than any one concert that we'd ever been to. Girl, I think we both learned that this life is about so much more than we ever imagined.

Now, you ask me this question after so many years of living spiritually bankrupt, "So what made you decide to do the church thing?". 

I haven't decided to do the "church thing". I knew when you asked that, exactly which church thing you were talking about.  The very one that I avoided as a teenager and still avoid now. It's the one where your life must appear perfect and is basically a club of fellow legalists who forget to send the invitation to the dude who showed up last week reeking of whiskey and bad choices. Because there are other churches for "those kinds of people". I know the church you're asking about too well. No, I don't do that church thing. 

Friend, I love you. I'm going to give you the most honest and raw answer I've got without sounding too churchy or Christianese. 

I AM a Jesus thing. 

Church is a place I serve God, worship and pray. 

A couple of thousand years ago, God wanted me to know how much He loves me and wanted me to stop acting like a self-centered beast-child, so he put on some skin and came down here when He could have stayed in Heaven and just watched me self-destruct. He faced everything that tries to kill me and put it in its rightful place because He has that power. He healed the sick, blind, deaf, mute, dying, dead and demon-possessed all while knowing that a painful day was coming, leaving his ravaged body nailed on a tree. When really, it should've been me. I couldn't tell you in a million years why Jesus loves me that much, especially after all of the ridiculous stuff I have done or especially after I told Him that I didn't believe in Him anyways, but He does. It truly freaks me out in a tremendous way. Friend, I fumbled around for years looking for love like that in the wrong places, you've witnessed some of that. When I finally exhausted those options, He still wanted me. Jesus still loved me when there wasn't anything lovable left about me and showed me that He doesn't even see me the way I deserve to be seen. He sees the best in me and shows up every day to remind me of that. I've grown to love Jesus so much that it is difficult to comprehend letting Him down after all He's done for me. The beautiful and unfathomable truth is that when I do fall, we work it out and He puts me right back up on my feet, never making me feel ashamed. Nobody else loves me like that and once I accepted that love, I realized that I was created for it. There was a time before I was born when He knew me and there is a time I will return to God, joyfully. That thing I had been missing all along wasn't a "church thing". It was Jesus. 

Yes, there is still the question about His church. There in lies your answer. Once my heart was set on Jesus, I wanted to know His church. Sadly, in this world, many of them posture themselves to look like one, but they don't truly love like one. If you've experienced this, I'm sorry. I know when I did, I was left feeling worse than when I went it and as lost as ever. Jesus himself knew this would happen. That's why He sent His Holy Spirit to help us. I'm sure you've heard of this, or the Holy Ghost. Some people refer to it differently. I remember conjuring up an image of some ghastly, dead Pope following me around condemning me for everything I did wrong and shaking a rosary over my damned head. Hey, that was a biblical use of that word, get off the judgment seat already! I marvel that it is nothing like that, it is the sweetest infilling of peace, love and joy that I've ever known. The pure stuff, not the counterfeit the world tries to sell you. It is the very spirit of a Savior. The thoughts of a God who is all light and love. He's nothing like I thought and I want everyone to know that, to know Him. I gather with others who feel like I do and we encourage, build up and love on each other through this life thing and do our best to show that when He lives inside of us, its not about us. We do our best to carry out what God designed us to do, but we get that we are human. God knows how hard this life is, how scary it can be and He is merciful. The church should be too. It is about bringing others into this same love and showing them the real face of God that the devil doesn't want us to know and the world will distort. Church is a corporate gathering of grace, mercy, love and repentance when it is at it's best. It becomes a place of shame, guilt and condemnation when people forget about the relationship with Jesus and take it to a place of religious legalism. Where we grew up, churches are fewer and harder to find, I remember. I'm fortunate that God took me and plopped me down right in the middle of the Bible Belt, where the soil is rich and good for sowing seeds and you see the fruits of laborers past. Churches grow here like clusters of grapes and are ripe with love. Yeah, it took me coming here to uproot the weeds of my heart, but the beauty of the vine that is reaching out towards the Son is breathtaking. I barely recognize myself anymore, I see someone I never knew I could be and it is well with my soul. So well. Know this though, whenever you seek Him, He will be there waiting for you. Wherever He has plopped you. 

I've learned from reading the Bible every day that not everyone will have the same ardor for Jesus as those of us who truly belong to Him. He said some stuff that makes my head spin, wasn't always the most popular guy, but He freed people from death and sin and gave them peace.  I don't believe in the same notions of the world that I once believed in. I don't compromise God's word for a dead world, because my heart is purposed for Him. Not because I am afraid of His wrath or scared to believe in anything else; I have a relationship with my God and if you've ever had a relationship, you know that it isn't one sided. He doesn't dictate rules and commandments to me to rule His Almighty power over me. He gives me statutes so that I can love others effectively. The burden, pressure and stress of controlling my own life lessens as I surrender to God, who created everything out of nothing. Why wouldn't I want the God who fashioned things like Saturn and ladybugs, belly laughs and chocolate chip cookie dough to take the reigns for me? Obviously, He's got it going on far better than I could even attempt. What gets people tripped up though is that their expectations of people get so high and their knowledge of who God really is and what Jesus really means gets too low. It is easy to do, people are right here in front of our faces, jacking up our own little kingdoms every day and demanding things from us that we don't want to give. If the only example we ever give ourselves is what the world sells us on, life or death and all eternity become relative. Where's the purpose? Isn't that the question we all want to know? I will give you a hint, it isn't in being happy and having all of the things we want or even in our spouses, children or jobs. Remember the last time someone said something kind to you and life suddenly didn't feel so hard? Remember how good it felt when you found out you could make your child laugh? Purpose is hidden in those moments, friend. To this day, you still have one of the most joyful laughs and smiles I have ever witnessed. Thank you for asking this question. I hope I answered it in a way that brings that smile to the surface.  

It's an inevitable question these days as I now wear my cross as proudly as some remember me wearing band t-shirts, torn up jeans and Doc Martens. I knew the question would come though and I'm glad. If nothing else, it means that I made it out alive. Just in the most unexpected way; set apart. 

P.S.-My friend, there is this dude named Peter in the Bible who is totally awesome. He gets all bent out of shape and says crazy stuff, screws up and then feels really bad. Jesus had to have asked at least once, "Is this guy Sicilian?". Turns out, he was the one Jesus trusted most to build His church. 

"But in your hearts set apart Christ as the Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have. But do this with gentleness and respect." 1 Peter 3:15

Attitude of Gratitude

So, this isn't going to be about me.

It's all about you. I don't know many of you, but I know that one year ago today, God told me to sit down and write and I did. One of my better examples of obedience to date, but as is the nature of our Almighty, He gave me something I never expected. Couldn't even dream of.

He gave me over 2,200 of you in over 30 countries. That's about 1,180 more of you reading my ramblings than I ever expected. That's a beautiful you, sitting in MANY places I've only dreamed of going and some I'd probably be too afraid to venture into to. I have learned more about the world because of you. This is a thankful me saying;

Whoever you are, I humbly appreciate your time. I hope I haven't let Jesus down in representing Him as the loveliest being that ever graced not only the world's presence, but my own. Truly, I say to you (going to borrow His favorite intro), if you haven't experienced Jesus Christ yet, you can. Right where you are whether it is in Kazakhstan or Mozambique, you can invite Him right into your heart. Even though I may not know where you are, He does and He's ready and able to show you the love you've always wanted. It really is that easy.

So, Poland, Ukraine, France, Turkey, United Kingdom, Bulgaria, Brazil, Canada, China, India, Scotland, Greece, Hungary, Portugal, Spain, Ireland, Germany, Kazakhstan, Fiji, Australia, El Salvador, Venezuela, Indonesia, Romania, Netherlands, Argentina, Taiwan, Mozambique, Russia, the United State of America and Malaysia; This Gospel loving girl loves you. You've shown me a glimpse of just how far and how wide God's love really is.

Thank You.


Heavenly Father, I pray that every person reading this would know the salvation available through your Son, Jesus Christ. We have witnessed the lengths you will go to in order to bring your lost sheep home. Father, let me glorify you with the words I place here and impart to every person reading this, a sense of peace and love in all they do for your Kingdom. Give them courage, give them the boldness to approach the Lion of the Judah and bury their faces in His mane and know Your unending love. For it is you who holds the power to tear down every dark power and stronghold, it is You who sets us free. Thank you for your mercy and goodness for your grace and love that is available to all. Let us receive it, in Jesus' name. Amen. 

Crazy Little Thing Called Love

Confession time; I can be a little bratty in the romance department. Entitled even. How did I get this way? Oh yeah...

Years of reading saucy romance novels and watching happy-ending-only chick flicks led me down a red rose petal dotted path of steam and fluff. Combine that with not having a daily father figure in my life to show me the practicalities of love, only the exaggerated holiday or infrequent weekend varieties which included ginormous teddy bears and trips to amusement parks to ease the pain of absence and you end up with one very skewed idea of what love looks like. It looks like flowers, extravagant gifts and mix-tapes (this shows my age) of sappy love ballads that you play on repeat. It can also look a lot like candlelit dinners, hand in hand walks down the beach and lots and lots of melodramatic fights, tears and pouting followed by reconciliation and empty promises made in between smothering kisses and high intensity emotions that wax and wane with the moon. This, my friends, is not romance. This is setting a stage, handing over a script and demanding action, but it is not what love really looks like. That's all the makings of infatuation.

When my husband and I first met, he admitted to not being the most romantic guy on the planet. The first time he bought flowers for me while we were dating, he put them in a vase on his dining room table and flippantly mentioned that they were for me. Two days after I had noticed them while at his house for dinner. They never made it to my house. Not even kidding. Then there was my birthday when I got all dressed up (dress, boots, great hair!!!) because he said we had some things to do. We went to Lowe's. So he could do yard work. Which was followed by a nap. We ended up going out to dinner that night, but I had already wilted and it was a rather quiet meal. Lots of pouting. Needless to say, there wasn't an abundance of sap or fluff and for a period of time, I questioned whether I could continue on because he seemed so oblivious to my needs. What made me happy. What made me feel valued and loved. What made me feel important. Do you notice a theme yet?

Me, me, me and more me. It was all about me.

But, who am I? 

I was robbed of the love I needed to flourish and be secure as a child and never knew who I was or grew into the person God created me to be. I learned to perform for love, to survive on a diet of small encouragements here and there and desperately wanted to be perfect in hopes that someone, anyone would find me acceptable. I couldn't be me because I was deeply involved in being who I thought could be loved. I never got to know myself and if there was any hint of anything in me that someone didn't respond to or like, death to it! Not acceptable. The pressure was unreal. The desperation was dysfunctional.The result; a grossly malnourished idea of what love really is and who I really am. I was stuck in a cycle of constantly trying to prove myself. 

Don't ever underestimate the value in knowing yourself, in feeling secure. Insecurities will take root and sprout up strangling weeds in your heart so quickly that you won't even realize when you're fertilizing them with selfishness. It isn't malicious and it isn't intentional. We were created for love, but when we are robbed of the stuff that makes us thrive, we substitute love with a lot of other messy junk that clogs the flow that love is truly suppose to follow; outwards. All I knew is that people taught me that love looked like things, typically given out of emotion and emotions come and go. I learned to desperately take dysfunctional love and pant for more, wildly clinging to the notion that it was the last I was going to get. Love isn't an emotion, nor is it anything that should be begged or dangled in front of us like the proverbial carrot. 

Love is a promise that we either choose to accept or ignore. Whether we acknowledge it, fight it or fly from it, it stays the same. 1 John 4:8 tells us, "Whoever does not love, does not know God, for God is love" (ESV, emphasis by me). So let me ask you; are you actively giving love or are you actively manipulating your surroundings to get love? There is no shame in this getting part, please know this. We all do it. But, the word "does" is an ongoing kind of action. The word "is" is an unchangeable fact. If you are not doing, then you cannot know what "is". Are you lost yet? Me too. Fo' shizzle. Basically, if you are sitting around not dishing the stuff out like God does, then it is no wonder you aren't feeling or receiving it. You have to know His character to understand one very solid truth, you can't get away from love, He's always giving it and He wants you to be just like Him. Jesus was a dirty footed carpenter with a knack for rhetoric and political incorrectness from an awkward dot on the map and yet He loved more effectively than anyone else in the history of ever without giving a single red rose or box of chocolates. His love looked like parables, casting out demons, walking on water (okay, that's pretty mushy when a guy will walk on water to get to you) and laying His blessed hands on a dead man to resurrect him. God's love looked like a brutal sacrifice and scandalous grace hanging from a cross. His blood, reflecting all that we mean to Him and that He would trade Heaven for us to know it. We live in a post-modern world though and it just doesn't seem all that romantic anymore to intentionally walk out of your way to purposefully show a woman you love her (John 4:7) when you can just pick up a phone and send her an "emoticon". Somewhere along the way, we have forgotten about real effort and elbow-grease in our relationships , replacing Agape with "what about me?".  Guilty, party of one, doing the typing. If grace is an ocean, I need to take these sinner's shoes off and dive in. 

My husband might not have the commercialized market cornered in the romance department, but he certainly has it nailed in the Kingdom area. Looking backwards, I can tell you about the time when I was sick and couldn't muster the strength to get out of bed, so he sent someone over to clean my house. Or when my youngest had his tonsils out and he showed up with a bag of surprises to take his mind off of the pain. There was another time (by time, I mean months) when I was working two jobs and he looked in on my kids to make sure they had dinner and were safe. When the wheel flew off my garbage can, he arrived with zip-ties and determination (this is how he courted me, by the way. Nothing shows interest like a man willing to work on your trashcan). Sitting in the truck to let me listen to the end of a song I love, changing my air filter, servicing my car. These are all ways that I was romanced, only I was too busy looking for the shiny packages and sky-writing to realize it at the time. But this weekend, when I saw him on his hands and knees, barefooted and covered in the dirt and grime of a true labor of love, I realized it. He planted a beautiful garden for me. 

"You deserve a beautiful garden", he said.

God showed us the same kind of love, ya know. He gave us a garden and we chose to look for shiny packages and writing in the sky. Let me not make the same mistake as Eve and forget the beauty of the simplicity, that I don't have to know another way as much as I need to acknowledge and love this way of life. Quiet grit, goofy dancing in the kitchen and a real affinity for Sasquatch are all good with me. This garden of transplanted flowers, it is planted in good soil. The hours and sweat in the August sun, the dirt under your fingernails and the stiff lower back say so because love is sacrificial and you felt I was worthy. 

A wounded vessel of mercy hung on a cross to say so because love is sacrificial and You felt I was worthy. 

Maybe you don't have someone in your life who brings you chocolate covered peanuts or twizzlers, because he knows they are your favorite. Maybe you are in a season of wondering if you ever will. Please, hold on to this anchor of hope; God made a sacrifice for you and has a plan and hope for your future. It is easier to hold on to the flesh of a person, than it is to hope in an invisible God, this I know. But, He promises that He cares for you and will continue to care for you. Put your hopes into prayer and let the Holy Spirit gently lead you into loving God for who He is, not necessarily what gifts He brings you. There is a King in Heaven who died to hear your voice and know His love for you. Let that be enough when your tender heart is yearning for more than this world is offering you. The truth is, I didn't even really know what my needs were until I met Jesus. He redefined them all. 

God, let these truths be enough for me. Let me remember Your character when I want to make it all about me. If humility is caring more about others than ourselves, then I believe that true romance lies in humility. It is the end of ourselves and the outward flow of love that comes from knowing God's character, intimately. God is love. Paul said in best in 1 Corinthians 13:4-8. How does it look in real life for me though?

Love is patient when you're weak and throwing punches at invisible fears, fighting something that isn't there anymore.

Love brings you endless kleenex when the fighting wears you down and all you have left are snot and tears.

Love lets your light shine when it is burning bright and doesn't cast a shadow over it. 

Love never makes you feel small, but charges the giant with you. 

Love admits to screwing up sometimes, but earnestly tries to get it right. It doesn't ask you for perfection either, but lets you learn you who are.

Love could raise it's voice, but holds you instead.

Love forgets your mess ups and highlights your step ups. 

Love kicks the devil in the shins and helps you to your knees to reclaim the victory.  

Love says look at the covenant promise circling your finger. 

Love is steadfast, a kiss on the forehead and daydreaming about keeping bees, bucket lists and grandkids. 

Love sees me and still does all of the above. 

This is my romance. And who I am isn't determined by any of this, I realized. It is only the result of who I am. A daughter of the Most High King and if He is love;

Then I am loved. 

Shadow of Myself

I've been staring at this keyboard for what seems like an eternity. Ceiling fan whirring above me, rhythmically keeping time with my breathing. It could lull me to sleep easily, but I am wide awake and wired with conviction. I've tried to get around writing this. I've avoided this post for many reasons, but mostly because while I knew how to start it, I did not know how to finish it.

God revealed the ending to me this very morning. Funny how He does that.

This post is going to hurt. Why? Because I'm going to reveal some things about myself that I do not entirely like. You might find yourself relating or recoiling in disbelief, but either way I ask that you continue on with this simple request; please pray for me. I've been chasing shadows for far too long.

Only the light can hold evidence of the darkness we've been in. Only the blinding, eye-squinting brightness of truth can reveal to us the depth of the caves we hide things in. And let's be honest, sometimes those caves become cozy and we start talking to the shadows and embracing the echoes as truths, even though an echo is only a reminder of something that was said in the past. We mistake them for real voices when we are in those lonely places, don't we? In our most vulnerable state, we let shadows and echoes tell us lies and we accept them for no other reason than this; loneliness is an illusion. More truth? An illusion can only exist if you accept it as your reality. Too many of us have been accepting illusions as realities and inflicting pain on ourselves that God never intended. While this post is mostly female-centric, I encourage any of my male readers to pay attention. You might find yourselves convicted as well.

I hear an echo every day. Every time I look in the mirror, it is audible.  An illusion that has become a reality; I'm not tall, short, skinny, curvy, tan, pale, blonde, brunette, perky, giggly, happy, coy, toned, bouncy, glossed, natural, straight, curly, freckled, unblemished, unwrinkled, smart, funny, nerdy, hip, sexy, pure, rich, nurturing, sassy, sweet....you fill in the blank _______ enough. Every day, the thought that I am not enough, robs me. It leaves me bankrupt of self-acceptance and bereft of self-love. This is tough to admit. I've written about not ever wanting to have it all together, but I admit right here, right now that I would feel a whole bunch better about myself if y'all at least thought I did. Pride is an echo that sing-songs failure and a shadow that thumbs it's nose at me in jest. Why?

As a child, I was made fun of for having unkempt hair, a big nose, shabby clothing, crooked teeth, big lips... the list goes on. I was told I was a burden, I was called ugly. Those are the voices that created the echoes. Voices of people I loved, some from people I didn't even know. Those words died in the air many years ago.  So, why am I still hearing them? Surely, I had people close by who told me that I was pretty? That I was intelligent? But why do those condemning voices get so much air time in my mind? Why is it when I get up in the morning and look at myself in the mirror, I find very little that I like about myself and set out to alter just about everything that I can? Why at 38 years old, do I sit in my shower and cry sometimes because I cannot find anything about myself that I find acceptable? Better question:

What kind of shadow did I make friends with? 

Even better question:

Who benefits from me thinking that everything about myself is wrong?

A quick stroll through the Garden of Eden answers that question. Who has been making women question their value since the beginning of time? A serpent.

Frankly, y'all, I'm tired.

I'm tired of the tricks and schemes that make us question our value. I am genuinely fed up and exhausted by the comparison trap. Any guesses as to who is responsible for that one too? My heart hurts when I see women sizing each other up and the look of defeat or triumph that follows. When did we get into competition with one another and what on Earth are we competing for?!?! Best eyebrows? Most likely to tan evenly? Best snakeskin sandals? Best cameo in a camisole? We have to stop consuming this venom and spitting it at one another and take up our daily bread and let it nourish us from the inside out. How empowered could women be if we actually shed that snakeskin for lamb's skin?  How empowered could we be if we actually congratulated one another for our Christian witness? For being the hands and feet of Christ. The only prize worth striving towards is the upward call of Christ Jesus and yet we rarely compliment one another on the accessory of the glorious Holy Spirit in our lives. Guilty? I am.

This sin of vanity is fueled by a great deceiver. One who knows how powerful the faith and love of a woman is. You cannot shake that woman. You cannot out love or out give a woman who has her heart on fire for Jesus and when her focus is on that cross, there is not a devil in hell that could stop her from what God has called her to. But he will try to distract her, make her take the long way getting there or convince her that maybe she's not the woman for the job. Expect this, but do not be deceived by it. Do. Not. Be. Shaken. I'm preaching to myself too, y'all.  Focus on the sounds of God's loving voice and let the echoes fall away or get lost in the sound of your praise being lifted up to Heaven.

Ladies. Fellas. There are billion dollar industries cashing in on and even creating our echoes and shadows, yet children, thousands of children are dying every single day due to starvation and lack of medical care. I'm buying eyeliner and obsessing over frizzy hair and some poor baby out there doesn't have a single bite of food in her belly. We are obsessing about cellulite, squatting and lunging for hours on end and there are people who haven't heard the Good News of the Gospel.  I will be the first to wave my hypocrite flag. I will be the first to admit that my sin of vanity isn't all that innocent when I stop and take a hard look at the world around me. It absolutely is not a pretty world, but I don't have to let it convince me that I am ugly. In fact, when I gave my heart to Christ, my beautiful Savior, God said that I would bear a strong family resemblance to Him (Ephesians 4:24).  Did Jesus have frizzy hair?

So what now?

Get out of the cave. Leave the shadows and echoes behind and find light and your own voice.

The echoes need to go. I need to smile with reckless abandon to display the joy Christ has in put in my heart, rather than hide my smile because I never had braces. It will probably take some time, but with my God watching over me, encouraging me and telling me that my heart is beautiful and my joy is pure, I can grow and blossom into a woman who avoids comparison traps instead of stepping right in them.  I may not wake up tomorrow and ditch the flat iron just yet, but my heart is changing and Jesus is renewing my mind daily. I have full faith that He will heal me. That I won't always look at myself and feel the need to pick apart my flaws. I will believe that God has given me all I need to glorify Him in this world and I choose to be a voice that will partner with others do accomplish this. Satan may be equipped with an airbrush, but I have a sword of truth and enough faith to make me a threat to the shadows and echoes.

Why?

Because eight years ago, my amazing Father in heaven shared a vision with me. In that vision of the injured and flightless dove that represented me, He promised that He would heal me. I was tenderly reminded of His promise recently when I found a dove trapped in a chicken pen. A flutter of frantic wings caught in the corner of my eye and I recognized the frenzy from my dream. As I paused and watched the dove try to escape to no avail, I called to my husband for help. I was rooted in place as I watched him catch the panicked bird in his hands. As he brought it to me, I heard the reminder "trust in Me". I held the fragile bird in my hands, close to my heart and felt its own beating a storm into its chest. I spoke gently to it as I marveled at the sight of it in my hands. My son asked me how I knew to calm it down and all I could reply is that sometimes you just have to be calm in order to soothe another. Once the dove was calm, I looked it in the eye and told it to fly. Lifting my hands towards the sky, I set it free. Then, this morning in our closing prayer at church, my pastor asked, "Do you want to be stuck in a cage with the chickens or fly like an Eagle?". God's word never returns to Him empty. I will be healed.

And I will fly.

"Then shall your light break forth like the dawn and your healing shall spring up speedily, your righteousness shall go before you: the Glory of the Lord your rear guard. Then you shall call and the Lord will answer, you shall cry and He will say, 'Here I am'. If you take the yoke from your midst the pointing of the finger and speaking wickedness, if you pour yourself out for the hungry and satisfy the desire of the afflicted then shall your light rise in the darkness and your gloom be as the noonday. And the lord will guide you continually and satisfy your desire in scorched places and make your bones strong; and you shall be like a watered garden like a spring of water whose waters do not fail." Isaiah 58:8-11

Cannonballs of Grace

"My story is His story."

That's somewhat how I started out the other night. To be honest, some of the lesser details are a little fuzzy.

Sitting in a room with a group of teenagers and a few adults, I jumped off the diving board and dove deep down into my story. His story. My testimony.

It felt a little like doing a cannonball and a lot like getting water all up my nose. It burned, I sputtered and finally I was able to catch my breath and let the cool, calming presence of the Holy Spirit surround me. There were only a couple of moments when I momentarily forgot how to swim, but my Life Preserver is hands-down, THE best. Thank you for never letting go of me. 

A very wise friend* once warned me that when you have a testimony that includes forms of abuse or neglect, you sometimes find yourself using it as a weapon of self preservation and defense and often as a way to re-victimize yourself. I didn't entirely understand at the time what she meant because I was a fairly new believer and still felt all warm and fuzzy about my new found salvation. Don't get me wrong, I still have the warm fuzzies about Jesus (umm, hello? Have you read my 20 previous posts?). It's just that I was so overjoyed about the transformation taking place inside of me that I couldn't imagine using my past as a way to keep people at arm's length. I was ready to love everyone!! Nothing could touch me, why would I try to defend myself from love? Yeah, it all seemed so easy. Until the moment I heard myself say, "I don't deserve any more pain" in response to a situation that obviously was making me feel vulnerable, followed by the familiar smell of brick and mortar that only professional wall-builders recognize. Defenses, up.

Sitting in front of this group though, my friend's warning finally made complete sense. I wouldn't dare put up a wall between me and these kids, they didn't deserve that.  Looking out at the familiar faces staring back at me, all my defenses wilted and with every fiber of my being, I prayed that God would use me to speak hope, joy, triumph and love into their lives. I prayed that God would protect me from myself and that I would be an effective vessel for His Kingdom.

For the very first time, I gave my testimony without an agenda for myself. I wanted it only for them.

With shaky hands and a racing heart, I showed the scars of my life. I spoke of the consuming darkness I lived in and braved through when I just wanted to skim over certain trials about my past that I wished they'd never know about. Yeah, I wanted to build a wall around some it, but the wrecking ball of grace busted through and the restoration of mercy went to work.

With shaky hands and a small smile, I finished my testimony and stepped down from the stage directly into a hug from a young girl sitting in the front row. Thank you Father for a love that never ends.

For almost a year, I have spent most Sunday afternoons with this group of teens. I'm sure they assume that I am there because I haughtily believe I can teach them something. I would never presume to be so foolish, but I doubt they know how they've totally screwed up my plans of becoming a fabulous hermit someday. Or how much they have taught me about love, acceptance and joy. I'm happy to report that I can never go back to my quiet Sunday afternoons now that they've welcomed a wannabe loner into their loud and often goofy fold and that even though I would never tell them to their faces and utterly embarrass them, I think they're stinkin' precious. Yep, I'm ruined. In the best possible way.

Gracefully.

Thank you Father for this gift. 

*My wise friend has a testimony that is life-changing and hope-bringing in epic proportions. I am thoroughly convinced that she has a bejeweled crown in Heaven waiting on her that we, here on Earth, cannot even imagine the splendor of. If you haven't heard Tajuan McCarty's story or the incredible work of restoration that she's set out to fulfill, please do yourselves a favor and check out her ministry at http://the-wellhouse.org/about-us/ and prepare to have your heart opened by the mercy being poured out there. Tajuan's courage is inspiring and I humbly thank her for allowing me to share her wisdom in my little corner of the 'net.

"They conquered him by the blood of the Lamb and the word of their testimony..." Revelation 12:11

Five Toes To Glory

I have a chronic issue. It flares up at the most inopportune times and often leaves me flushed and looking for the nearest exit door.

What I have is chronic foot-in-mouth syndrome.

Symptoms include not thinking before speaking, speaking entirely too much or too quickly and is often accompanied by a lack of filter and/or common dang sense.

Unfortunately, I haven't found many ways to treat it and I often am left with the taste of regret in my mouth. If any of you know me personally, you've probably witnessed this in some fashion and the inevitable look of, "Holy guacamole" when the moment of doom arises. I'd like to say that I have a tendency toward being socially awkward, but after 38 years of being called a "social butterfly" and "a hoot", I don't think I can claim that title. I think I just really stink at peopling sometimes. Example? While trying to make friends with a new family recently, I jokingly chimed in about how I just can't justify people doing a nautical theme when we are well over 250 miles inland. A small chuckle and dismissing look from the innocent party on the other end of my verbal bomb revealed that perhaps I should have thought about the fact that maybe said other party has her entire house decorated in a nautical theme and that I just managed to offend her inner Martha Stewart in less than 38 seconds. I am really good at things like this and even though I pray about it in extreme fashion, I still manage to jam all five toes in my mouth at least once a day. Lord, help me. If I just offended anyone with less than 5 toes on the same foot, my apologies.

Clearly, I am not perfect. In fact, when people say things like, "you seem to have it so together", I often retort with something along the lines of a snorting laugh or meager grin and ask them, "Books & covers, much?". I can appear to have it all together, it is true. There are times when I can appear so together that it makes me almost unrecognizable to myself and apparently, to God too. Yeah. He recently told me that I'd gone and made myself entirely too serious. The words, "You need to be funny, you need to be you" lovingly chastised my inner being recently. The oddest thing about that; I thought I was being funny. (Do y'all think Jesus ever laughed so hard He divinely snorted?)

After some deep heart searching, I realized that I had gotten uber serious as of late and kind of lost my sense of humor in the midst of....life. All of this led me to question myself. Am I working at my salvation? Am I trying to earn grace? Are my works lacking the much needed faith to be as effective as they should be? Who's glory am I working towards, mine or God's? OUCH. That last one left me reeling a bit. If I am going to be entirely honest, as I said I would be when I started this blog, I had to strip my motives down to the bare bones.

Truth: I was becoming a mild legalist. Afflicted with a case of Pharisee fever, I was getting a little too caught up with the "law" and not the "love", as Jesus asks us to. What that looks like is a churched-up version of the world and what Jesus kinda despises. From the outside, I don't know that anyone really even noticed. But, God knows everything, sees everything and the Holy Spirit will call us out when we aren't keeping it real. For this, I am grateful, as I was headlong on my way to becoming a full-blown Stepford-esque "church lady" and feeling a little too important about myself. It was a pretty great representation of what turns people off of church because I don't know that Jesus ever fretted about perfect eyeliner or not wearing the same outfit twice in the same month. No, Jesus went about loving on orphans and lepers, blind men and outcast women and always was more concerned about their hearts than their status or appearance. Pride is a sneaky son of a gun and will find ways to uproot any seeds of humility that happen to be sprouting in your life if you don't weed the garden every so often. God is supremely concerned with our motives, our works only count when they match our intentions. Can you dig it?

Truth: People pleasing is like slowly bleeding to death. Over time, drop by drop,  you will give yourself away and become deficient of love and anemic of grace in the process. Temptation to please leads to compromising to gain acceptance. Meaning, if you are serving anyone with the idea that they will love you more or think you're a little more than alright; check yourself before you wreck yourself, ok? People who truly love you, love you when you aren't doing a cotton-picking thing for them and will continue to love you if you never do another cotton-picking thing for them. Lysa Terkeurst blew my mind with this; "Do not confuse the command to love with the disease to please". Amen, sister. Loving God first and most often includes saying "no" to people and sometimes leads us to uncomfortable truths that may just be what sets them free from sinful behaviors. Ephesians 4:25 tells us, "Therefore, having put away falsehood, let each one of you speak the truth with his neighbor, for we are members one of another". If I can't tell my DFF (divine friend forever) when her crazy is hanging out or my neighbor-turned-husband when I've had enough Bigfoot documentaries and they can't be honest and tell me when I'm clammed up too tight in my hermit shell, that is just politely pretending and is NOT fellowship, amigos.

Truth: Churches the world over are full of hypocrites. IF you happen to think that you are not a hypocrite, I'd like to see what kind of mirror you have in your home. The one I have has this woman in it who really has a heart for Christ and falls short of doing His name justice every single day. I humbly submit to all of you that I am a sinner. I say one thing and do another without any real conscious effort to fall short. It is the nature of my flesh and your flesh too, please don't kid yourself into thinking that you are perfect because the real tragedy in that is you tend to lose sight of needing God in that mindset. Satan will let some folks lead a real easy life because he knows that they'll eventually stop needing God and therefore forget about salvation and live for their own gain. We see them everyday in the headlines and often covet their easy lifestyles and fortune. Again, a sneaky sin that winds it's way into our hearts and chokes out humility. Paul said in Phillipians 3:8 "Indeed I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For His sake, I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ". Paul, in his time, was the man before he met Christ. A true legalist and the fairest of the Pharisees, the man was at the top of his game and after meeting Christ, called his former life rubbish. RUB-bish. Paul walked away and traded his Ferrari in for a Prius (totally making this up for dramatic effect) and had the time of his life in prison cells and shipwrecks (this stuff I can't make up) because he learned to be content in every circumstance and to believe that Jesus would be worth it all for one simple reason. He completes us. His love covers and smothers everything that I can't get right and even after I unload on a class about how we need to feed the hungry and clothe the poor while my belly is full and my hide is clothed, He loves me. In that moment of utter hypocrisy, Jesus Christ the King, loves little, big-mouthed me. He loves whatever kind of hypocrite you are too, He is just that kind of Savior.

Conclusion? None of it has to do with church really, it really has to do more with what I am willing to do with the Gospel. If I love Jesus enough to walk with His people into transformation and witness miracles. Do I love Jesus enough to care about what He cares about or will I lose focus in favor of shiny, earthy things? What were we talking about again? (God told me to be funny, take it up with Him if you have an issue) Yes, yes, I remember. I was laying my yard sale out there for all to see. In conclusion, I searched my heart and found out something super cool.

I'm not perfect. I don't want to try to be the best everything. I just want to be the me Christ thought was worthy of dying for. Imperfect, flawed, fallen, but earnestly wanting to be better. To do better and to most importantly; love better. If I could earn my way into Heaven and gain all of the Kingdom of God as my eternal home, the Cross would be pointless. I may be a hypocrite, but I am no fool. Someday I will stand in front of Jesus and I won't have my arms overflowing with good works, trying to show Him how I served the least of these. No, my arms will be open and expectant, ready to accept an embrace from the Savior who I love.

"If anyone loves me, he will keep my word and my Father will love him and we will come to him and make our home with him." John 14:23 ESV