Oh wow He’s faithful.
There’s something so ethereal about knowing when God is speaking.
Oftentimes, before I leave my house to go be with other Christians, I pray a few things. One, that I’d have some sort of meaningful conversation, two, that God would speak, and if I remember, then three, that I’d be filled with the Spirit and used by Him.
And the funny thing is, once I arrive, when I kick off my shoes and put down my phone and start hugging people, I completely forget that I ever even prayed it. And every single time that I come home so filled, I’m overcome with awe at how He worked.
I’m stunned by the conversations that left me glowing with joy, how I heard God in worship songs and in listening to my friends preach, tangibly experiencing God’s love and presence in everyday interactions.
I heard His voice again this weekend, and it left me breathless.
For three days, I’d been praying hard that God would lead me to trust Him. And He has. Oh, how He has.
Pursue Jesus and love Him first. That’s been on my mind the past few weeks, as I run the concept over and over in my head, trying to more fully grasp what it means, what it looks like, why it’s important.
And finally, after struggling for so long to piece together my view of the world with my view of God, I came to a realization that left me breathless, head spinning, but for the first time in my life finally understanding.
Why can’t we can’t afford to put anyone other than Jesus as the first in our minds, as the reason we do everything we do? Because only He satisfies.
Only He can satisfy the longing for peace in my heart, only He can fulfill my ache for something more in this life. Only He can give me the joy, the hope, and love that my soul craves so desperately.
Sometimes I forget there’s such a thing as a messy faith to go along with my messy life.
And in this moment, I’ll be totally honest – I’m not really sure how to best express what I’ve been feeling, lately. My thoughts are jumbled, my words ineloquent, and the feeling of being stuck permeates my every thought.
It’s quarter till eleven on Monday night where I am, and everything in me feels weary, uncomfortable, aimless. To try and pretend I have it all together, or that my messiness is endearing simply wouldn’t be right – I’m drained, deep thinking has left me unsettled, and all I want is for everything just to feel right again.
As I sit here, I begin to think hard and deep once again –
What do we do when reality hits and our lives don’t turn out the way we wanted them to?
What do we do when studying the Bible seems to leave us wrestling with questions more than finding answers?
What do we do when we find ourselves heartbroken, or filled with guilt and shame, just barely grasping what exactly grace is? Continue reading
In the midst of your pain, in the midst of your darkness, in the midst of the terrifying paths in front of us that we call the future – you’re so radically and beautifully loved. May we never lose sight of that.
I sit peacefully on the porch, one leg curled under me, guitar resting on the other. I feel the cool breeze of the evening in my hair, the summer mosquitoes swarming around my feet, and I unwind as my fingers dance up and down the familiar strings.
And in the stillness, the quiet, the only solitude I’ve had all day, one thing comes to my mind – Worship Him. The Savior. Continue reading
It’s Easter weekend – but you already knew that.
In past years blogging, I’ve made a big deal about this holiday – my favorite holiday, that is – and written posts, and tweets, and I’ve jumped up and down over what Easter means to me.
This year’s a little different.
Not because I’m not excited, no. I’m thrilled. But Easter means something a little different to me this year, something a little deeper, something I hold a little tighter to my heart than in years past.
This day means everything to me, and it’s difficult to find the words to describe it well. Continue reading
My story isn’t over yet.
I gently ink these words onto my left forearm, pen gliding along my skin, the letters coming out with lines and loops.
The words echo in my head, bringing me peace and hope that wasn’t there before.
It isn’t over for me –
I mark a semicolon on the edge of my wrist.
I know the One who holds the pen to my story.
** Continue reading
I absolutely, positively, love life.
Not that it’s easy, or pain-free, or pleasant all the time. It’s not.
But after a long string of posts about God feeling so far away, and finding hope in pain, and saying no, and inadequacy, and doubting God’s promises, and searching for meaning – I think we need a post on celebrating life.
Sometimes we wake up in the mornings, with a to-do list a mile long, a mess to clean up, and stress to deal with – and it’s honestly rather difficult at times.
But what if we decided to wake up with joy?
I’m back to the beginning again.
It’s funny – sometimes I think I’ve got it all figured out.
I write these posts, I journal, I speak, I talk with friends – and sometimes, I feel like I’ve solved everything. Like I have all the answers, and that maybe, this time, I’ll really have control of my life.
Ironically, however, I think I’ve got it all covered and then I struggle again.
I write about true identity being found in Christ and yet I find myself playing the comparison game, over and over.
I write about hope in pain, and soon after I find myself, once again, stumbling in the darkness, losing faith in any light.
I write about living in grace and the very next day I battle overwhelming guilt and shame.
And here’s the kicker – all this leads to is more guilt.
There’s a whisper in my head, reminiscent of the Serpent in Genesis 3, saying, “Did God really say His grace covered everything?”