The Mountains past the Fog

I love the mountains. I love their beauty and their majesty and the glory I feel they represent. Its as if God placed them on earth to say to us "See how big I Am".

And yet yesterday, though I was in the mountains, I did not see the mountains. Not because I didn't look or wouldn't look, but because you simply could not see them. The fog was so dense, you could barely see quarter a mile down the road.

It gave me pause and made me think about my last blog post when I was constantly reassuring my heart of His goodness.

And then it hit me, He is still there, even when I can't see.

Its such a simple concept, and yet, standing in the valley, looking around for the mountains I knew were there, it sunk in. Those mountains are there. I have seen them a hundred times. Walked all over them, picked apples on them, had picnics on them, taken pictures on them and of them. The mountains are real, and beautiful. Yesterday, I could not see them. But behind the fog they were still there, still just as strong and big as they always have been. Yesterday the fog covered my eyes, and yesterday the fog was apart of my reality, but the sincerity of the fog did not in any way diminish the reality of the mountains.

In the same way, the sincerity of my circumstances in no way diminish the reality of God.

As I watched the fog, I began thinking about the Israelites (probably because my nephew was on this trip and to keep him happy we plugged in the Prince of Egypt), and the time they spent held captive in Egypt. I wondered if their circumstances may have caused them to no longer see that God was still a reality. Imagining what it must have been slaving for all those years under abusive conditions, and then what it was like when the gates swung open and Pharaoh finally said, "go". Imagine what it was like to finally see the reality of God and His promises, no longer tainted by your dark reality. Imagine to see what you have all along known and believed.

Imagine what it is like when the fog of your circumstances lifts, and you see His hand, not once again at work, but still at work, as it always have been. It's that "ah-ha!" moment when everything kind of shifts back into focus and you see things, not through the foggy lenses of your circumstances, but from the place of a reality where God is still on His throne as He always will be.

I don't think my circumstances have ever truly shrouded my view of Him, but I know it's certainly tainted it. I know that circumstances heavily dictate my view of God and His hand in my life.

Sisters, I'm not ignorant so let me remind you of this, our circumstances don't always change. Sometimes they stay the same. So if the fog isn't lifting, that's ok. But pray that He would let you see the mountains through it. Although it can be so very trying to look for His hand and not immediately see it, He's there. He has not abandoned you. My favorite promise comes straight out of Jeremiah 29:13 "You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart."

Search with all your heart, even through the fog, and you will find Him! <3

I promise, behind the fog, the mountains are there

Confessions from a chubby girl

Confession: this post is already mega hard. I hate to be this kind of vulnerable.

Confession: I'm about 60 pounds heavier than I should be for my gender, height and age. 21 years old. 60 is a big number. It feels too big. It's devastating because I don't even have pregnancy or illness to blame for the extra weight. It's just there. 


Confession: it's not actually the mirror that I hate so much. In fact, sometimes, I like what I see in the mirror. Sure I'd love to lose the belly, but the mirror isn't my worst enemy; its pictures. It's caught off guard, it's not being able to pose the most effectively, it's being caught in an outfit I detest how I look in. It's getting tagged in one of ~those~ pictures. I don't hate what I see in the mirror, I hate what I see in the pictures. 


Confession: I pray to get the weight off. I've watched my eating closely, and then nothing changes, or I just pack more weight on, and I feel frustrated and discouraged. So I stop being so careful. But all the while I'm pleading with Jesus to help me get it off. My weight is just steadily climbing, and I'm looking to Him for help because this isn't healthy, I know that. It's not like I'm stuffing bonbons and Twinkies in every day, I just can't shake the weight. No matter what I've tried. 


Confession: I feel like I look like I don't care about my body because of how massive I am. I do. And I'm trying to take care of it, but I don't have time to dedicate to a regular exercise routine and that frustrates me to no end. So I try to be more active during my days, but I know that's not doing much. 


Confession: sometimes I get out of breath doing the simplest. And I feel like a land yacht when I do. I'm 21! I should be at my healthiest right now. 


Confession: sometimes I feel like the only reason I've never had a relationship is because of my weight. Because no guy can see past the chubby to get to know me. Because I don't have a good body, I'm not worth their time. 


Confession: I've cried off and on writing this post. The humiliation. The shame. The embarrassment. It's so much. But people see pictures of me, and no. I'm not ignorant. I see it. I know it. My jeans tell me every time I put them on. The scale yells at me every time I dare to step foot on. I know I'm not losing the weight like I hoped. I know I'm not losing the weight at all. 


Confession: I'm not giving up. I hate this weight. I hate it enough to keep trying. To keep eating good for me foods, to keep walking the long way just to get in extra steps. I'm going to keep practicing portion control and drinking lots of water. I'm not going to stop trying my very best to be the healthiest me I can be. 


Confession: I dread the struggle, but I can't wait to relish in the ending. When the weight is gone and I'm healthy again. I can't wait to be beautiful inside and out. I can't wait to not hate pictures of me. I can't wait to be able to share clothes with my friends or order off of Jane because I can actually fit them. I can't wait to be able to buy the cheaper junior jeans because I can wear them without looking hoochie. I can't wait to love bathing suits again. I can't wait to want to hangout at the pool with people because I won't be hiding behind my towel any more. I'm ready to be the very best me I can be. 


Confession: I know Jesus isn't a genie who takes away the thorns at the first request. But I also know I can't do this without leaning into Him. This is the body He gave me. And I'm going to take care of it. And I'm going to do it with His help. 

Dear Future Husband

Dear Future Husband,

Per the sage advice of several older, wiser women, I have worked as hard as I possibly can to shed my expectations of you. For ten or more years, I have tried as diligently as I can to drum away my ideas of your face, physique, and voice. I've chased away images of you working on your car, or painting in our flat. I've put ideas of your hobbies, jobs, interests, tastes in music, food, and movies, and even your nationality out of my mind. I have tried to erase my expectations of your personality, your temper, your background, your height, your hairstyle, your everything. It is so sorely unfair of me to have expectations of you, and I know that from time to time, I've built some up, and I don't have it all right. But I think I've done ok putting an image of you out of my mind.

But there's something you need to know.

For as many ideas that I don't have about you, I have so many for our marriage.

I have been the blessed daughter of two amazing people. But the legacy goes deeper. You see, I watched as my grandparents, married sixty years, kissed and held hands. I watched as my ailing grandfather wept over seeing his Darling in a rehab environment. Even thought I know it's helping her get better, his mind couldn't grasp it. And that's a thing that I love. She is still so patient with him.

Even with his fragile mind, she loves him. Even when his world is muddled and confused and frustrating, she's the only thing he knows and loves. Even when he asks the same question 15 times in a row; even when he forgets what he's done with her things; even when she can't physically handle helping him do things, she still loves him. Her love is deeper than "in love". His love is deeper than "in love".

They have built a marriage of "Three Strands", and 60 years, two kids, 9 grandkids and a growing number of great grands later, this is so evident. The only constant in their life, is the cord of Christ, the cross of Christ.

This is the expectation I have for us. This is the kind of marriage I long for us to fight for.

Better or worse.

Richer or poorer.

Sickness and health.

Love and cherish.

Till death do us part.

I want to be decades deep and still just in love. I want to be 60 years in and still just as willing to love and serve you.

But I can assure you the only way we will ever have this kind of forever love, is if we both are first madly in love with Christ.

So please, wherever you are, whoever you are, whatever you're doing, fall in love with Christ first.

This kind of marriage is such a testament to His mercy. Their marriage has brought Him glory...isn't that what marriage should do? Bring Him glory?

Isn't that what our lives are to do? Bring Him glory?

I don't know that I do that well every day, or ever, but I hope I can bring Him glory as a single person until I can bring Him glory as your bride. Until we can with our marriage.

So I will continue to push away expectations of you, but I can assure you I'm storing up many for the quality of our marriage.

To the One Who Stayed

To the One Who Stayed,

This post is not easy. I feel like I've endured a roller coaster of emotions and I'm trying desperately to get off, but just when I think it's done, that it's all over, it takes another loop. Another uphill climb and another downward spiral. It goes on and on and I'm weary.

Its not all your fault, I get it. But I confess, all day yesterday, until this morning, I was so angry with you. All you wanted to do was leave, but it was so unlike you. You broke my heart and for the first time in the whole of my life I wanted to shout at you.

Sweet, loveable, gentle, docile you.

I wanted to grab your shoulders and plead with you. I wanted to release the floodgate, banging the doors behind my eyes. I wanted to scream and cry and pitch a fit. I wanted to explode for the pain in my heart.

You are so tired. And that breaks my heart. How I want to ease your pain and bring you joy. I can't, but I want to. I know you are tired. I know you are done.

But you're not done.

I am so selfish! I want you to be here with me! I want you to meet whoever I marry. I want to know you approve of him.

I want you to meet whatever children the Lord blesses me with.

I want to talk books and big words with you. I want to talk about family history and geek out over names with you.

I know I'm being so incredibly selfish, but I still want you here.

But if you're ready, there's one thing I need to say:

If you're going to leave, I understand. I love you, I'm going to miss you, and I promise you I'm going to cry a lot, but do me one favor. Please, just one.

When you leave, be you. Be you when you go from here.

Do you remember who you are?

You're sassy but sweet. You like scrabble and novels and fresh picked figs. You like coffee infused water and gooey butter cake. You like things that grow and you always have plants in your windowsill. You like bird watching, wave watching, and 500 piece puzzles. You follow baseball, and basketball and a mired of other sports I didn't even realize.

You have the patience of a saint! You've endured 30+ years of excruciating pain with minimum complaint, and been the faithful, joyful wife of an ailing man. And the gentle, peaceful woman in the life of so many.

So when you go, please! Please be you! You've fought wars of loving a PTSD husband, crippling arthritis, a number of other minor and (semi)major surgeries...so when you go, please don't just wane to another war, you're a fighter, a soldier. When you go, go like you. Still be you. Leave the way you have done all things: with gentleness and strength; the kind I hope to one day attain. Stay the lady I love and admire so very much.

But for now, one last thing.

If it's ok with you, please stay.

Firefly Forest: A story about Jesus

Earlier this week, I read an article that hit me right between the eyes. You know, that spot that connects your thinking brain to your convicted heart. The article is good, by all means please go read it, but it was one line that triggered a memory that brought a smile to my face and proved her point simultaneously. (Side note, if you chose not to read the article for whatever reason, it is a wonderful and convicting post and not as worldly feely as this quote makes it sound, this quote is simply something that jumped out at me.)

"when humans experience awe...we become less individualistic, less self-focused, less materialistic, more connected to those around us. In marveling at something greater than ourselves, we become more able to reach out to others."

 

 

 

I was driving back into town tonight, reflecting on Bible study and all that we had talked about. I had referenced this article, specifically the portion about (obviously not verbatim here) how when the focus is us, the focus is wrong, but when our heart is one of awe of God, our focus is right, and our awe drives us to reach out to others. My dear friend listened quietly as a I rattled on and on about the memory that this one little quote had sparked.

 

It was summer before senior year. I was young, hopeful, and all kinds of selfish. How I wish I could say I wasn't, but don't we all. I was perfectly happy to be on this missions trip to Philadelphia, no fight there. But could have done with out the incessant bathroom themed jokes from the abundant amount of middle school boys who had somehow secured a spot on this trip. As one of the few high schoolers there, we had few options of people to hang out with and chose instead to be all together. For the most part this was fine. But after a few days of it, my total lack of brothers growing up became increasingly clear. Its amazing how fast you can learn to tune something or someone out...by day three I'm pretty sure I had thoroughly installed my "middle school boy" filter. So one night when they came running up to me and my best friend, huffing and puffing and obviously overexcited, it was all I could do to listen to them go on and on about the "GROVE OF TREES" that we "ABSOLUTELY HAD TO SEE RIGHT THIS SECOND BEFORE THEY WENT AWAY!" Literally the only reason my attitude-ed self tuned into them was because the only things these boys got excited about were, food, farts and video games. And since I'm pretty sure the weren't coming to fill me in on the latter two, and we had already had dinner, I listened. And to this day, I'm so glad I did.

 

After they all took a breath and could speak more than one word between gasps for air, they got out that in this little grove of trees, just into the woods at the edge of camp there were innumerable fireflies. Since that was clearly a big word for their vocabulary my friend and I decided to go see the "firefly forest" as they had been calling it. A few steps down into the woods, and you hit a clearing, and you didn't even have to look up, your eyes could see it everywhere. Thousands, if not millions of fireflies dotted the canvas of dark trees against a gently lit sky.

 

Awe doesn't even begin to describe it. Not one person could believe or shake it. So the few high schoolers that had gotten wrangled into going down there promptly turned around and ran out- everyone needed to see this.

 

We raced back to the camp, gathered up blankets, sleeping bags, tarps- anything people could sit on, and the hand of anyone who would listen to us talk about the fireflies in the forest. After grabbing things up as quickly as we could we raced back down to the little grove- not wanting to miss a moment of the light show God had set there.

 

We laid out our blankets and laid in a circle, just staring at them all. So overwhelmed by the little piece of majesty we were watching.

 

And here's where things got intense. One by one, middle school right up to high school, boys and girls, grabbed the hand of the person sitting next to them. Some prayed a loud, some shouted attributes and qualities of God, other sang, and still others were so struck by awe, they were silent. I had never had worship quite like it, so raw, so vulnerable- so full of awe.

 

We all marveled. We all sat in this little bit of glory. And we worshipped. And we only knew about it- because the awe of the moment touched the hearts of six middle school boys. It moved them beyond themselves to tell everyone, anyone, about what they had seen.

 

Friends, when the focus is us, the focus is wrong. Be awed  by our Savior. If you look at the mountains, praise their Maker. If you look at the sea, praise its Creator. Allow these wonders to be the vehicle to awe- and not the point of praise. But look for them! If you aren't awed by Him, find it again. Praise Him for it. And then tell others.

The journey ahead: all that is new

So since I don't like the "media bombs" people sometimes drop, I thought I would give the world a proper update on me.

Well first things first, lets go back to January. Yikes, I know, January. And not just January, early January. I went to Atlanta with some friends for the Passion conference. It was an incredible weekend, and when I came home my parents informed me that the company my dad worked for was going under. Since my dad found out he began actively working towards a new job. Nothing was panning out the way we thought it should.

The story is full of lots of God ordained, beautiful details. The way that all the pieces fell into place was a work only He could have accomplished. Maybe someday I will get my parents to do a guest post so you can give God the glory He so deserves in all He did for them.

So all of that to say, long story short, after some conversations and a whole lot of prayer, my parents moved forward, and they are opening a gelato and espresso shop.

YIKES. Yay! What? Seriously?!

YES. To all of the above.

My parents are taking a terrifying leap of faith right into the arms of God. I'm proud of them. The timeline is all His, and we don't know when the shop will open, but it will open when God intends it- because nothing has happened unless He has intended for it to. He knows best in all things, the faith this is instilling is vital.

So where does this leave me? Back to January...

My career as a nanny was literally all over the place. I was working for a school teacher as my main job, and doing some part time childcare for some long time family friends. Their situation, however, was changing and they were needing something more consistent. I love the kids, love the parents, love the grandparents- it made sense. So I jumped in with two feet, and by February I had three kids under the age of three; all in (cloth) diapers. Three different schedules, two different families. It was me and three little people that needed me to remember that this one couldn't eat this and that this one has to go down at this time. I had to have this kids on a rigid schedule or something important would be forgotten. (like naps. more than once...) Their diaper changes were scheduled for Pete's sake. To say I was overwhelmed is to put it lightly. I was frazzled, burnt out, stressed out and exhausted. I had Irish triplets and no idea what to do with these three precious babies.

By April I was a literal mess. The Bible study I was "leading" was not getting my best. In fact they were just sort of getting my leftovers. I didn't like to say I was leading, I said I was "facilitating" because leading was too much responsibility. I guess I thought that if I called it something else and didn't put the work in, it would be ok. But it wasn't. By the middle of spring, the study had all but fallen apart. My help around the house was all but nonexistent, and my social life was certainly no better.

It all started adding up, the best way I knew to give something of quality to these other areas of my life was to take the energy from somewhere else. But as I have learned, when you spread yourself too thing, you run out of "you" to spread. When I finally realized that I was no longer giving my best to the babies, that they didn't have my full energy, creativity, and enjoyment, I knew something had to change. I loved them, but in order to survive, I had to have way to much of a schedule. Not that schedules are bad!!! I was just so locked into it, that none of us were enjoying it- me or the babies. So I gulped down the pride, and gave the family my notice. Can we please just get real for a second? This was one of the hardest things I have ever done. Those kids, those precious babies, meant and mean so much to me. My sassy girl and my capuchin monkey man. My kiddos. I loved them. I do love them. Letting them go, however, was the most loving thing I could do for them. They needed to be in their home, on a freer schedule, with someone who had the energy to dedicate to helping grow their creativity and curiosity. They needed something I could not be at this point in my life. So in May, I said good-bye as their nanny and returned to my place as long time family friend and occasional babysitter.

For like, a split second, life chilled out. It was kind of...smooth sailing. I should have known.

I felt like I was doing better with just the one little guy. My baby baby. I've had the kid since he was 2ish months old. He's going to be two soon. Which, isn't a ton of time, ok, I get it. But that's most of his life. I've walked this kid through hours of sleepless naps, argued over quinoa, and cuddled the teething crankies away. I got to help him learn how to walk, speak, learn his shapes and colors. I've been able to teach him signs, Spanish, counting and how to work a crowd (go on, ask him if he pooped his diaper. It's hilarious.)

Needless to say, I had no intention of quitting. I was going to keep my baby, work for my parents over the summer (working for the school teacher came quite handy at times like summer. And holidays.)  and come fall, when I went back full time for them, my parents' shop would be up and running enough, that me being there part time would be enough.

But remember that whole "God is controlling the timeline" thing? Yeah well, if my plan had panned out, my parents would have been open by now and all of ^that would have been fine. But as it is, they aren't even going to be open in the next four weeks. Since this is a "family owned and operated" and everyone else was not able to walk away from what they were doing in life, it was down to me. I was and am the only daughter that will be able to dedicate the kind of time they need.

If we're being totally honest, I knew I didn't want to nanny forever. I did not, however, anticipate leaving it so soon. And yet here I am: walking away from the only career I have ever known. My older sister is sending her baby to kindergarten this year. I would have loved to see my guy that far and then had a parting at such time. But our end came three years sooner.

I'm going to sound super Greek when I say this, but babies are all I have ever known, really. It is the only job I have ever really had.

So, after some prayer and council from my parents, today I took a giant leap of faith. I quit my job, the only job I have ever truly known, and have agreed to work for my parents (as a barista....so. there's that)

YIKES. Yay! What? Seriously?!

Yes. To all of the above.

If you asked me five years ago where I saw myself in five years, I wouldn't have said as a barista in my parents gelato shop. It's not what I imagined for me. To be honest, I've been pretty scared to dream. As totally downer as this sounds, dreams don't seem to pan out too well for me. So I stopped trying to hope for something, and just take each day, each new challenge as it comes. It reminds me of a quote I read, probably on Pinterest, "Maybe the plans God has for me are better than the plans I had for myself." Really it was when I let go, and stopped trying to rip into every door I saw, that the one I'm pretty sure I am supposed to walk through was placed right in front of me. A big neon sign blinking saying, "This is the One". I'm not just stepping into a new job- I am totally switching gears here. I can't wait to be around new people all day. Meeting them and getting to know them. Learning my regulars and learning their stories. I can't wait to be surrounded by the smell of coffee all day. I can't wait to get to be in such a unique and special place with my parents. Working full time, the three of us. I can't wait to see if this is a "reason or a season" (God will use it in my future, or what He will teach me through it...or both.)

I'm terrified, excited, nervous, sad, ready, and totally unprepared all at once. But one thing I guarantee:

I. Can't. Wait.

Cover my Weakness

Oh my goodness, how I love to sing in Latin! I love the way the words themselves sound like a song. It is such a beautiful language. I love singing, period. I love being able to soar through high notes and hit them with crystal voices as the altos bring that low, mournful sound. I love that the second sopranos carry the melody. I love that when we all sing our parts, correctly and when we're supposed to, that we sound so beautiful. But I sat as our lovely director worked with each part, and listened to them sing. Each part, sounded funny. The notes just didn't sound quite- right. Even when the notes were sung correctly, it didn't sound good. It was only when we all sang together that the harmony and the melody, the high notes and the low notes, the loud voices and the low rumbles, all worked together and made beautiful, haunting, clear music.

How like the body of Christ.

 

We have become such a culture of "I can do it myself" that we don't even realize how stupid we look, trying to function on our own. Trust me, those high notes are a blast to hit, but without the altos and the seconds there to add some other notes, we would get tired, sound funny, and really, I don't think it would be an enjoyable experience to listen to us sing. Our high notes wouldn't be as effective without the other singers to support us, and in turn, they are more effective with us there to support them.

 

Paul talks about the importance of every part of the Body of Christ working together- it is such a simple idea. And yet, we have chose, the church at large, to forfeit it. We "don't want to inconvenience anyone" or "we're fine on our own" or my favorite "someone else will do that"- and so we don't "sing" at all.

 

Oh friends! Why have we stopped meeting the needs of one another? We do we battle through our own weaknesses, trying to subsidize for them, when others are called to cover our weaknesses with their strength?

I worked at a special needs camp one summer. A life changing experience, and a story for another time. The counselors from each cabin would spend each night debriefing, and then a good amount in prayer. It was the weirdest thing: they insisted we hold hands, with our fingers locked. So here sat 10 or so girls who had never met, holding hands in prayer, fingers intertwined like some teenybopper couple. "WHY?" was the internal scream of every worker there. But as we sat, holding hands, before we prayed that first night, the cabin leaders explained exactly why. "We ask you to hold hands like this, to remind you of a very valuable truth: we are meant to cover each other's weaknesses; to carry each others' burdens. When you look at your hands, your knuckles are the strongest part, these remain exposed. But between your knuckles are where your hands are most sensitive and weak. When you hold hands like this in prayer, you are using your strength to cover someone else's weakness."

We are supposed to work together to help cover those weaknesses. Guess what! Everybody has them. No one person is good at everything, and for the body to be effective, we must all be doing our part.

Singing may not be your thing, talent, or favorite pastime, but it was how the Father chose to remind me of this truth.

He recently sat someone in my life, who is organized and good at administration. I immediately recognized her value to me as we planned, because she was strong where I was not. She has a skill, where I have none. I needed her to be the most effective to my community group.

Find the people in your life that you need to need again. Value them. Thank them. Let them be to you, what you should be to them.

 

Let's all really sing together again.

In Jesus Name

 

You may have noticed that I am pretty bad at keeping up with my blog. Honestly, I wish you could live a day in my shoes. I am working three jobs, which includes four kids and some personal assistant/office type work, keeping up a social life, continuing to invest in my church and my family, and really trying so desperately hard to be a real adult...it catches up with me every single day. Usually around 10am. I feel like my life is a constant seesaw between thinking I did alright, and discovering the reality that I didn't do that good of a job. Oh, your family had dinner? How nice. They have no clean clothes for tomorrow, and you were supposed to send that email three days ago. Its a two step forward, three steps back process for me.

 

I feel like I'm the awkward 13 year old all over again. I feel like I just don't know where I fit. I'm 21, not in school, I'm working my butt off, not in a relationship...I'm really not doing any of the things that everyone else my age is doing. I don't know my place in this world. I'm telling you, it feels like middle school part 2. I am trying so hard to come into adulthood, and do so with grace. I'm doing taxes, ordering checks, managing my time and days so I give enough to everything that my time is dedicated to, and most days, if not every day, I am failing.

 

Some days, in fact the majority of them, it feels like my life has spiraled out of my control. And the faster I try to get a hold on it, the more overwhelming it becomes, and the more it slips out of my hands. Its terrifying. Its embarrassing. It makes me look immature, careless, and incapable.

 

But God.

 

The only constant in my life has been Jesus.

 

In my last post, I briefly mentioned that before worshipping, I have been praying my heart into a place of worship. Since coming home, the Father has continued to expand on what I learned to do while there. And while I've been obsessively listening to the album from Passion, (which I highly recommend), my favorite song has played over and over and over in my head. The chorus of Salvation's Tide is as follows:

 

||Let the walls come down in Jesus name/Let the lost be found in Jesus name/Open eyes to see in Jesus name/Let the city sing in Jesus name||

 

The phrase "in Jesus name" is something I grew up hearing plugged onto the end of prayers. And then it hit me. When our hearts are right, songs can be a form of prayer. I think we formalize prayer so much. I keep a prayer journal, and trust me, when my heart needs to be gushed out to the Father, it is perfect for that. But prayer doesn't have to be so limited to pen, paper, and whispers.

 

When my heart is in a place of true worship, singing the phrase "Let ___ in Jesus name" is a prayer.

 

My life has felt beyond my reach for three or more years, but when my heart is right, I can be in constant communication with the One who wrote every detail of my life. When I allow myself to really consider what I am singing, and truly believe it, I am sitting in the presence of a Holy and Perfect God. A Holy, Perfect God, who chose to love me.

 

Just to be clear, I'm not being "name it, claim it." By relishing in His presence, I am choosing a joyful and peaceful place from which to live. My circumstances don't change because I chose God over chaos.

 

My life, is still 100% beyond my power to control. I still feel like I fall short, come up empty, and don't have it all together. I still feel like my life can be a joke to some people. I still feel like I haven't gotten where I am supposed to be. I still feel like 90% of what I want to do with my life is unattainable. But I chose Jesus a long time ago, and now that I am facing a life full of bills, taxes, payments, jobs, and relationships, I still choose Jesus.

Let us love, live, and serve, In Jesus Name.

Stop Saying Jesus is Enough

Maybe its the fact that I was with 40,000 other believers. Maybe its the fact that I haven't done anything like this since high school. Maybe its the fact that I was with a new group of friends. Maybe it's because my faith was needing to drink deep again.

Maybe it was all of these in tandem.

Whatever the reason, or reasons, I was excited. I felt like little kid excited.

As we were sitting in our seats, I looked around at the thousands of people milling around, trying to find theirs. Thousands and thousands together for one purpose: to worship. I decided to do something I don't recall ever doing, so I sat waiting, and prayed my heart into a place of worship. I assure you, it made all the difference in the world. I wasn't just robotically singing along, I was in a place where I could believe what I was singing. I had never experienced worship quite like it. It was beautiful. So bold and bare before our Lord, I poured my whole heart and soul out, and not just "caught up in the moment" type of pour. A pouring of total surrender. I did this before every session, and the worship maintained a "whole heart" atmosphere for me. If you've never done this...do it! I don't know why I waited so long.

The first session starts and Louie Giglio walks out on stage. This is my all time favorite speaker and this was the third time I've heard him live. Remember that excitement I described? It was so still there. He starts speaking, and all of the sudden I'm the only one in the room. He is talking directly to me. There's no one beside me, in front of me, behind me or around me. I'm the only one. And bit by bit, I feel myself breaking down.

This isn't supposed to happen this soon... I'm not even exhausted yet!

I experienced a rush of emotions as pieces of my past flew into my heart and God said "Let's deal with it."

Louie addressed the "broken girl" and I have never felt more vulnerable than that moment, when I sat weeping, my soul gushing out before the Maker, Savior, and Lord. I didn't even care that no one else in my group didn't seem near as effected as I was, I was with my Father and it did not matter. The weight of sins, mine and others that effected me, sat on my lap as I sat listening to the Father's Word come forth this speaker.

"When Jesus came back from hell, he brought the keys for your salvation and the keys for your freedom"

He went on to say that He brought back the keys to set me free from whatever someone did, or didn't do, from whatever hurt, or anger, or fear, or pain, or jealousy, or rage, or sorrow, or malice I felt. Jesus knew what happened, and HE IS BIGGER THAN ALL OF IT.

I knew so much of this, but I realized, I didn't believe any of it.

But in those moments before my Father, I was liberated into His grace and love and freedom. I felt a literal weight lift from my soul. One I did not realize I was carrying.

Over the course of the next few hours and days I had a whole perspective shift, and I never want to forget it.

I was able to sing, and mean every word as a prayer for my heart. It was then we sang a song that had an impact on my heart.

"Nothing and no one comes close to you. Nothing could ever come close." (Simple Pursuit, Melodie Malone)

I didn't believe this. SO many things "come close" to Him where they aught not.

"If you stayed right where you are, I Am everything."
"If everything changed overnight, I Am everything."
"If you lost your job, I Am everything."
"If you never get married, I Am everything."
"If you do get married, I Am everything."
"If you got sick, I Am everything."
"If you lose everyone you love, I Am everything."
"If I called you away, I Am everything."
"If I kept you here, I Am everything."
"If you don't see another day, I Am everything."
"If you walk this world, I Am everything."

Jesus Christ isn't "just enough" HE IS EVERYTHING.

Saying that "Jesus is enough" suddenly felt like I was settling for less. "Enough" suddenly felt like I was saying "well I wanted more, but this will be fine...it's just enough." JESUS CHRIST IS MORE THAN ENOUGH. HE MORE THAN SATISFIES. HE MORE THAN CARES. HE MORE THAN LOVES. He paid such a price, just because of love, and had every right to hate me because of what He suffered, and He chose to love me anyways, and I have the audacity to say He's just enough?

Nothing and No One comes close to Him!

I walked away from this weekend, believing this with my whole heart. The God that gave me freedom from everything that has bound me, LOVES ME. And He, no matter where I stand in this life, is Everything to me.

He is and will be my Joy.
He is and will be my Love.
He is and will be my Life.

I came home, and real life started back- and I had to firmly stand on the guarantee that He is more than enough, He is everything.

Circumstances were immediately rocky, and Jesus was still everything. Even when life doesn't seem right. So much happened this weekend, and Jesus was still the "everything" that made it last. That made it so important.

"When the angel rolled the stone away, it wasn't so Jesus could get out [He walks through walls, it didn't have to move], the stone was rolled away, so that we could see in. Jesus isn't here, HE IS RISEN. He was the victim of our sin but it wasn't His identity. He has become the Victor! Jesus is alive, HE HAS RISEN."

Wanting more than just stuff

"The Lord is my Shepherd, I shall not want."

I shall not want. 

I shall not want, but I do want. I want things fiercely sometimes. I don't always want bad things, in fact quite the opposite. Except for wanting Netflix to not fall under laziness, but....

Shocker alert blogging world, I want to get married! There, the 21 year old freak has written it out in plain, bold letters! (Quite a feat too, since I'm writing in bed from my iPad.) I want to marry a Godly, strong, man. I want to learn the ins and outs, the sacrifices and the blessings of love. To experience love past roses and sweet nothings. To get into the messy part of loving someone when the job doesn't work out, or the apartment is too small or its banana sandwiches for the third night that week. I want to walk through life with that one man that I pray the Lord is preparing me for.  

I want to get married and I want to have babies. (My word the freak is bold today!) Lots and lots of babies. Babies I carry in my womb and babies I carry in my heart until I can hold them in my arms. I believe strongly in marriage, procreation, and adoption. Can you tell? I want to raise those babies to love the Lord and to love people. I want to teach them everything they need to know. But I want to learn everything I need to know to teach them...and that scares me. I want to be prepared for them, so don't let them down. I want to be a good mommy to them. 

I want to get married, have babies, and I want to be involved in ministry. This is a long standing dream. It's changed in the specifics over the years but the underlying goal has always been the same: to love on people that may be called "the least of these". The poor, the illiterate, the prostitutes, the homeless, the orphans, the alien, and the widow. I want to show them love and do life with people who have been stripped of liveliness. I want to serve people who have been slaves to the world and the minority in the system of culture. 

I don't want bad things. I do want selfish things. I want to be prettier, skinnier, healthier, funnier, to have a more contagious personality. And none of these things are bad. 

But these things, the selfish and the holy, are what I want. 

Me. 

Flawed. Sinner. Wretched me. And I shall not want. The "want" I understand the Psalmist to be talking about, is exactly all the want I've described. 

But here's the thing, more than the way I want my life to go though, I want to be lovely. To be lovely in the way my Saviour is lovely. To be beautiful in the way my Creator is beautiful. To be caring in the way my Rescuer is caring. To be gentle in the way my Shepherd is gentle. And to lead as graciously as my Lord leads. I want to want the things of the Lord more than I want the dream I have built. I want to be desperate for His Word. I want to long for it with every fiber of my being and with every breath that fills my lungs. 

I want to want, only for the Heart of the Most High. And I'm not there yet. 

But this thing, I believe, is a good thing to want!

The Totality of His Promises

If you're anything like me, you thrive on positivity. Negativity has a huge "weigh-down" effect on your heart, and has at times put me in quite the down mood. Ok fine its made me downright grumpy.

I think it is for this reason, that I personally love and look for the promises of God. For so long I heard people talk about the "Promises of God" as though they were a new Max Lucado book. It has taken me until recent years to recognize that they are not an organized page in the Psalms, but rather little nuggets of hope and truth sprinkled all through His Word. And as this revelation dawned on me, soon I began hearing more and more of said promises.

Sweet little Scripture based one-liners became part of the language I was speaking as I paid more and more attention to them as other people said them.

Just here recently, I was reminded of a very cherished promise: "The Lord withholds no good thing."

Now before I go on, I want to be careful here, because I think often times in the name of "Truth" Christians end up tearing each other to shreds over petty little pet peeves. I don't want to do this. I just want to share what I have learned, and also to allow others to be aware of something that I was not.

So far as I have seen, every promise He gives requires something of us.

Now please don't misunderstand me on this. I am not suggesting, insinuating, encouraging or preaching a works based faith. In fact, just the opposite. What I see required of us, has very little to do with what we are able to do.

Take for example Psalm 63:8. Picked apart, the promise we dish out is "His right hand upholds me." Where this is true, its not the whole verse. The first part of it says "My soul clings to You."

My soul clings.

My hands to not hold, my mind does not set, and my words to not matter. My soul clings.

We are required to CLING to Him.

In just one chapter earlier in Psalm 32:8, we see "God is our refuge." But before the promise of God as refuge, we see both the statement "Trust in Him at all times" and "Pour your hearts out to Him."

We are required to TRUST IN HIM, and CONFIDE IN HIM.

Well what about in other parts of the Bible, not just Psalms? (Though the Psalms do contain an enormous amount of promises.)

Take Proverbs 23:17&18 for example. When encouraging with a promise, most might just state the gist of verse 18 which says "There is a future hope for you and your hope will not be cut off." but verse 17 provides us first with a warning that I feel is key: "Do not let your heart envy sinners. But always be zealous for the fear of the Lord."

We are required to NOT ENVY and to BE ZELOUS.

In Matthew 11:28 we are promised rest, but we are told first to come to Him (all ye who are heavy laden.)

We are required to COME TO THE FATHER.

These are just some of the ones I came across in my search, but there are countless others. And I dare say each promise notes something about us needing to cling to Him, or seek Him, or pour our hearts out to Him.

So often I think we complain about "God not coming through on His promises" yet we are not living like His children. Obedience is so full of joy. And when we shift our eyes away from the life we live so often, and reorient ourselves on the lifestyle He has commanded of us, we soon realize His promises where there always- we were choosing to live in a way where, we could not experience them.

Choose joy. Choose to live in His promises!

(Source)

More on Singles in the Church

My cursor is blinking at me, letting me know that this currently empty page is awaiting my thoughts. Ah my thoughts. They come in torrents, and stay in a jumble. How to make sense of them to get them from my brain to my fingers in a logical fashion. I still don't have a title for this post- mostly because I'm not totally sure what direction it will be taking.

I had a number of conversations this past week that have caused me to want to go ahead with a post of this nature. Its something that has been on my mind for a while- but I have yet to attempt to eloquently write it out. If you recall this post, I began a sort of "series" on my blog about being single today; in relation to the church, the culture, my family and even among my friends group. Although being single is not ideal for me, it's provided me with a unique opportunity to have my current perspective on this issue in the church and my life, of course. If you recall this post, I got a little sassy as I exploited some of the irritations of Christian single girls. I make a lot of generalizations from personal experiences and views; but hey, its my blog. Its ok if I do that, right?

Although this is about singles, its not. This is about the older people in the lives of singles.

I believe that people should have mentors, and be mentors.
Now, I want to be very clear here, without getting into whole other issues. Parents should be the primary disciple makers of their children.
However, mentors are Biblical roles. We see Christ being a leader to his twelve, and what I would define as a "mentor" to three. We see other "mentor" type relationships all through the Bible, way back to Naomi and Ruth (as Naomi guided Ruth through traditions and actions, and Ruth obeyed) to Barnabas and Paul, and in turn Paul and Timothy. There's countless others one could come up with a creative eye. (As I would even consider some such as Abraham and Lot, Esther and Mordechai, and Joseph and Jesus, who although was a father role, really mentored him into his trade.)
I have found two things to be true regarding mentors: when I have had a mentor(or someone playing a similar role in my life), I have someone older, wiser, and less emotionally involved (than my mom or sisters) who is holding me accountable to my walk with the Father. Someone I am having to look at and say "hey I failed. And I need you to lovingly remind me what I vowed to do in my relationship with Christ."
The second thing I have found to be true, is that playing that role (although I have never had an official "mentor" title, I have been an older friend/confidant and someone they have come to seeking wisdom.) I have found that in a way, I am held more accountable to my walk with Christ, feeling like I can give no wisdom, love, admonishment, or anything else unless I am actively pursuing Him. (Not to mention the abundant joy you experience when you are investing into someone other than yourself!)

*Disclaimer*
I don't have a particular Biblical passage to support what I am about to say, it is just something I believe to be a good idea.

I believe that, when it is age appropriate, and the interest exists, that older mentors should be setting up singles with other singles.
Wait. Did she just say she believes in matchmaking? Yes. She did. When you begin to really know the heart of someone you mentor, and you know of someone who just might be suitable for them, set them up. Let them meet each other. Have them over for dinner in an intentional, yet noninvasive setting. Be intentional and proactive in the lives of the singles around you. Chances are not many of them want to be single. But again, know them first.

Why is marriage so important to me? A lot of reasons, really.
1) Our nation is headed fast and furiously in a downward spiral towards everything anti-God, anti-Biblical, and anti-Truth. With a new ruling, that I know you have heard about, "marriage" is going to look pretty cloudy for the next few generations. I believe that marriage, in the true, pure, and correct sense is necessary. And without Godly couples being raised up in the church, traditional couples will soon be a minority.

2) Marriage is important to me, because in addition to Godly couples being necessary in a "cloudy" world, I believe they are necessary in the church. The Church, though fundamentally built on Christ, is impacted greatly by the families that are apart of it; at large and at each specific church congregation. I believe that there is a need for young Christian singles to actively pursue Godly and right relationships and have and raise Godly families. I can't tell you how many times our family has been a testimony where my mom or dad have been able to share. Either the blessing they find in their children, or about God being a Father, or countless other ways. There should be more of this going on. There should be more God centered, Christ following, sinner reaching families in the Church today.

3) Marriage is important to me because I desire marriage. I desire the man that God has designed for me- to walk through the rest of this life with. I desire to serve for and with him. I desire to be his helpmeet, and desire to learn how that will look. Marriage is important to me, because one day it is something I hope to partake in.

4) And through marriage, I desire a family. I desire to have and adopt as many beautiful babies as the Father sees fit. I believe that both childbearing/birth and adoption are Biblical- and that not everyone understands both or either of these things. I desire to have a family made up of every colour, and get to share with people that adoption isn't just for kids with no parents- its for everyone- and I know just the Father they need!


What are some general thoughts on the idea of "matchmaking" in the Church?

Overwhelmed

I'm overwhelmed by You, You're sovereign majesty
I'm captured in the passion of a holy King
And I've been reconciled to the son of peace
I belong to You, You belong to me

The lyric has been playing through my mind for more than a week now. I'm overwhelmed by You.

My life felt pretty low in the slumps for a while, where my joy was low and the resentment towards the monotony I felt high. I felt like I had few friends, and those I did have were occupied with jobs or boyfriends or school or a combination of the three.

I felt no joy in my job. My sweet little bubbly, beautiful boy would just smile and grin at me. And as cute as his grins and babbles are, I took little joy in him. I loved on him, of course. But there was no joy. My mom really challenged me and encouraged me to find it and apply it- because it was making me grumpy and moody to everyone and everything.

I began to really seek joy and contentment where I was. And in seeking the will of the Lord, I began to find it. Slowly and surely, I found joy in the little things, and in the hard things. I found things beautiful again, as I also had begun to experience some apathy as well. It was most definitely not an overnight change- but it was an overnight mindset switch. A firm decision to commit the day I was given to the Lord.

All of the sudden I felt blessing after blessing pour out onto my soul. It was is if my heart was being led to the green pastures promised, and I was in knots of excitement, knowing what was ahead; the blessings and provision of the Father. As a friend reminded me just this morning, He withholds NO good thing. It is His desire to bless us. Though we neither deserve it or fully understand it, He does it just the same. In the midst of all of this, I began to actively see His blessings. Most clearly in the form of fellowship and friendship. A lady extended her hand as a mentor, and I am so thankful for that. I met with her and a few other girls, and although I was a bit awkward and maybe a tad distant, I can see myself really plugging into this group the more I get to know them. I was able to have a new friend come for dinner and then visit with her for a while, and I cannot describe the joy I felt for being able to invest into someone again. We were able to talk and chat as if we'd known each other forever.

Can you see at all why I felt beyond overwhelmed? It was too much. My cup was overflowing. And it just kept coming.

On the same night that I met with the lady and girls, the same night my friend was here for dinner, and the same day that I had spent time with the new group I am apart of, it just didn't stop. As I was walking into Panera for Bible Study, I discovered that a lady, very dear to my family was there. I hadn't seen her in at least 5 years, but probably more. As soon as I saw her, my heart just couldn't handle it, and I burst into tears, exploding with joy and thanksgiving.

All I have been thinking since two weeks ago, is, "God, I do not deserve this- but I am so thankful!" I cannot put into words what being overwhelmed by the Father is like- but I assure you, there is nothing like it. I have been able to spend time with my family, in the evenings, or we joined a pool this year and have gone almost every day. It has been such a blessing to take joy in them again. Yesterday, five of the siblings volunteered at a festival, and we just enjoyed being together and riding roller coasters. I have had the time to invest in this new group of people and I feel like I am being established and able to connect and form friendships. But all this by the hand of the Father. I not only did nothing, I deserve nothing. Would  I feel half as overwhelmed right now, had I not chosen to submit to the joy of the Lord? Would I just be delighted with the new of it all, instead of deeply and genuinely thankful for it?

In my Sunday school class, we are working our way through Joshua. Although I came in part way into the book, I have gained so much. Through both the teaching and the discussion. (This deserves a post of its own!) But where we are right now, is the Israelites have just crossed the Jordan on dry ground. But its more than that. When the crossed, it was flood season. So the Jordan wasn't just flowing strong, it was overflowing. When the Lord stopped the waters? He stopped them twenty miles north of where they were crossing. And where the crossed? Directly in front of Jericho. The nation they were going to conquer. And who crossed first? The army. 40,000 men in armor. This was a big deal. Like, huge. So God told Joshua to pick on man from each tribe, to go back to the Jordan, and each pick a stone and bring them back to camp. Why? So they would remember.

Why do I tell you all this? I tell you, because it gives a Biblical reason for my blog. I blog, not just to share, but to remember. And I never want to forget the magnanimity of this moment. Of this feeling of pouring joy from the Lord. Of the blessing of obedience. Once you taste it, you never go back. And I want to forever relish in His joy. Because whether His blessings comes in the form of little or comes in the form of much; comes in His taking away or His giving to me; comes in the form of keeping me here or moving me elsewhere, I don't want to miss it.

I want to remember what His glorious hand looks like in my life. I want to share what His mercies can look like. And I want everyone to know His joy.

Sincerely overwhelmed,
Mal

Not So New

Well hello there blogging world. After my last "real" post, I figured it had been a long enough spell of silence and I could venture forth with an update.

Its been just over a month since I have let you peek into the heart of the girl I described as "devastatingly lonely." And since then, much has changed. Much to the extent of feeling overwhelmed at one point.

Very soon after writing that post, things began to happen in my life and in my heart. Not even a week after that post, we went to a church I like to say is our family's church. My grandparents married there, my parents met and married there, and they stayed there until I was 2. (And being the fourth born, that's quite a while.) I think it's really for that reason that my dad was a little hesitant to visit, but alas, visit we did. And then we did again the next week, and the next, and the next. And so forth and so on. Now about a month and a half later, I feel more established here than I have anywhere in the last two years. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

In the middle of our settling into this church, we had our annual homeschool convention. And although I am now two years graduated, and my sister several more, we still enjoy and look forward to volunteering. In previous years I have worked in the children's program and let me tell you- it takes an insane amount of energy, patience, and joy to keep 25 little ones happy and excited for two solid days. But this year, although I enjoyed the fast paced environment of previous years, I had decided to try something new. I'll spare you the details, but I ended up working in the used curriculum sale. Which honestly, sounds wicked boring. But it was not at all. I worked with people I knew, and met others and enjoyed every second. Reconnecting with some of the folks, and making new friends- it was a really amazing weekend. I even got to keep in contact with a few of them thanks to the modern convenience of facebook! :) Although I'm a "newbie" to the established group of volunteers, everyone was very friendly, and I look forward to continue to get to know them in the coming months, and working with them again next summer!

It was just after this that I began to feel overwhelmed in my soul. I was suddenly being plunged into a group of people who remembered my name, and things about me. People I was talking to and seeing throughout the week were greeting me on Sunday mornings. The very things I had longed and prayed for for a few years now, were coming in droves and all I could identify in my heart was an overwhelmed with joy and thankfulness emotion.

Reflecting on all that has happened these last few weeks as I wrote, brought back the wave of overwhelmed thanks I felt not two weeks ago- and I just can't say enough for how thankful I am.

The church is solid, established, growing, and Gospel driven. I could not have picked a better place if I tried. God led us exactly where He needs us for now.

That's really all I have to say- is just that I feel as though I am finally "home" in a sense. Please just continue praying for our family as we settle in and develop relationships and ministries within this body.

~Mal

An Open Letter to the Church

Dear Church,

First and foremost, when I write the Church, I am essentially writing myself as well. So anything I say can and should apply to me as well.

This said, let me be as honest and transparent as I can be.

My heart aches at the state in which we currently find ourselves. This is a general assessment, because in the last two years, the Lord has led me through a number of different churches. A Baptist church, a Spanish church(also Baptist), a community church, a Calvary chapel, a traditional Baptist church, and most recently a nondenominational congregation.

Although some of these were one week visits, I still see it; in some more than others. But I see it nonetheless.

For some context, let me share where I'm coming from by way of a few verses:

"...let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near." (Hebrews 10:24&25)

"So those who received his word were baptized, and there were added that day about three thousand souls. And they devoted themselves to the apostles' teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers." (Acts 2:21&22)

Do you see it?

Fellowship. Encouragement. Sharing meals(breaking of bread). Meeting together.

(source)

Oh church, where is this?

Where is the deep connection to one another in Christ? And why has it been passed up for a quick "I'll pray for you" and busy schedule. What on earth are we doing that is so much more important?

We allow things we say are "necessary" to rule our lives, and then we want to jump into some kind of neighborhood ministry with practical strangers.

How can you expect to minister to nonbelievers with people you don't know? I find this illogical. We're abandoning Christian fellowship for empty relationships in the name of "ministering to them". If we are ministering alone, we already aren't following a Biblical model, nor are we following the example set by Christ himself.

Why have we stopped ministering to each other? Think about this with me, as a Christian, individuals need to know that the community of believers is still around them.

This has not been the case for me in recent years.

I'm not saying that I've been abandoned by the church, as some feel they have been, but I am saying, I see no evident community.

No investment in one another. No joy in doing life together. No real relationship.

Church, why is this the case? Why are we no longer being the network of believers designed by Christ? Why is our answer to "how are you?" always "I'm good!" And why, when someone does decide to be honest, and share "I'm struggling" are we so irritated? Because we're so busy we don't want to deal with someone else's problems.

Church! This isn't Biblical! We're called to listen and minister when someone is struggling! That's what it means to "bear one another's burdens" (and so fulfill the law of Christ Galatians 6:2). But we've built up such a shell of busy, busy, busy, that we are scared to share. We overthink, "what will people think if I was really honest?" This ought not be. But it is. Why? Why have we let ourselves come to this place?

Church, if we are not encouraging one another, building one another up, teaching and training one another, I dare say even admonishing one another, how do we think we can be Christ to others unless we are Christ to each other? This is the family. If it's not right in here, it can't be right out there.

Church, seek the Lord in all we do- and we will be doing His will. And when we do His will- we bring glory to His name.

Signed,
A member of the Church

O Come Emmanuel

**Disclaimer**
Theologians have debated for years upon years about little nit picky things that really don't define or shape my faith. I'm vaguely referencing the nittygritty subject of "what time of year was Jesus actually born?"

I really don't care. This is where tradition comes into play, and we celebrate and honor His birth in December.


THAT SAID, when I write this, I'm not talking about, "we should celebrate whenever the professionals say is more accurate!" Because lets be honest. That's going to keep changing. It was September, now its June. Oh and specific dates! My goodness. We're not even going there.

But I am talking about something maybe kind of cheesy with a hint of truth to it. So, bear with me. I'm talking about Christmas spirit.

That warm fuzzy feeling that overtakes people, (mostly emotional saps like me who keep Hallmark on nonstop the entire season and play Christmas music October 1) and makes (most people) set aside their differences to allow for some kindness and generosity. Its the same warmth that brings bell ringers with their red buckets out every December, and the same thing that prods our hearts to keep dropping leftover Kroger change into them. 

But it's more than that. And I think people know that. Whether or not people ever acknowledge that and accept it, is not for me to say, but its there just the same. Drawing people through the doors of the church every December 24.

That's quite obviously the Christmas spirit I'm talking about.

My question is this: why does Christmas spirit stop January 1? As if unanimously, we've made our new year's resolution to be "be grumpy till Valentines day. And on that day, mourn the single people." Like what is that junk?

(source)

Be logical! If in theory, Christ was born December 25, on our valentine's day, Mary would have had an infant! He's not old news! Or better yet he was growing up, so when did He visit the temple? Why isn't that some kind of recognized day. It should be. Ok maybe that is a tad on the extreme side. But I do feel like we just stop celebrating Him all too soon. Once all the nativity scenes are packed up its out of sight out of mind for most of us. Do you ever just imagine Him growing up? Doesn't that keep Him and his Spirit in your heart just a little longer through the year?

Which brings me to my bigger question: Why do we isolate the name "Emmanuel" to Christmas time?  It makes such a nice ring to all those old Christmas carols, but it means God with us! Isn't He still with us, even when the sound of carols ringing out have long since past? When the mundane begins, and work and school start, and dreary January drags on, isn't He still with us?

Isn't Christ, Christ in all His names, still true to His name Emmanuel all through the year? If we believed that, I mean really believed that, what would it change? What would change in how you responded to your relentlessly questioning child if you believed God was with you? What would change in the way you drive if you believed God was with you? What would change in the way you clean your house, or interact with co-workers, or communicated with people at the grocery store? Would our lives change at all if we really truly believed, that, God with us, Christ Emmanuel, is with us, all through the year?

a choice I'm making now

So as some of my readers may know, I recently turned 20. (I didn't  cry...but almost.) And even thought that is not legal drinking age, I think it's important to decide how you feel about an issue like that before you have to make a split second choice. In those moments, our judgement tends to be clouded. So I've decided to write up some of my thoughts and share them! :)

 I've seen more than one secular produced film, where a character declines a drink simply because "I don't drink" and people accept that answer.

It seems to me that a few years ago, there was judging over drinks, but man you were looked down on if you drank. You were a slob, less of a Christian, and definitely not esteemed in a Christian community.

To this day, there are still Christians judging Christians over drinking, but it seems to be going the opposite way. "Oh, you don't drink" As if I am less of a person for choosing not to. Why is it acceptable in secular media for a person to say "I don't drink" and not in a Christian setting? (Quite simply because we as Christians find the need to be so harsh on one another; but that is an entirely separate post.)

I'll share something with you: what I believe.

The Bible...it contains people drinking alcohol. Yes. Fermented, alcohol. Yes, God's mighty people. And yes, God's own Son produced more wine (alcoholic wine) at a wedding feast. I could get on a high horse about how that was just a "time in history" and a "necessity of the times" But I'm not going to, because that isn't why I won't drink.

So why no drinking for me?

1. Although not every encounter with alcohol is a negative one, I have never seen a positive one. 
2. I can find no reason why any other drink won't do; to me it seems foolish with my money, and I just don't need it. I don't need alcohol to enhance a social setting; I can have just as much fun without it.
3. In relation with number one, I have seen first hand how alcohol can rip a family to shreds, and I want no part in it. 
4. I have never seen drinking bring anyone closer to the Father, improve their Christian witness, or make them a better person. 

And therefore, I choose now, before I am of legal drinking age, not to drink. I don't see how it will improve the quality of my life, walk with Christ, or bring me or someone else closer to the Father. And all I ask is that you respect that decision instead of looking down your nose at me. I'm not ignorant because I choose not to, I have made an educated decision not to.

So why is drinking such a big deal? Honestly, I just don't know. But it is. And because it is, its our duty as Christians to decide ahead of time where we stand on it, before we find ourselves in a situation where we make a rash decision. I do not believe that drinking is not a sin, but it is a stumbling block.

We have been doing a character study in the mornings, and one of the character qualities we have been studying is "tolerance", but maybe not the tolerance you're thinking of. The definition we are working with is "realizing that myself and others are at varying levels of character development." This means, that if I go to a party with Christians, and someone is drinking, I cannot judge them, because where God has them is different than where He has me. And in the same vain, I'm not where they are, so I cannot make the choices they are. Every Christian walk is at a different spot. And there are sin issues, and there are conviction issues. This is grey in the Bible, therefore I believe that it falls to conviction.

So now I wanna know, how or why did you decide to or not to drink? Did your family have any influence or was it experience? Share your thoughts! 

Do I really love?

Its a simple question. But it takes a lot of thought to answer.

Do I really love?

The only way to answer this question is to first define love. For me the very definition of love is Christ. But how does that really look? And to answer that, I hit 1 Corinthians. (Thanks to my sister for the inspiration of this.)

I've read the Bible for as long as I can remember. But my sister suggested questioning myself through the passage.


Try it with me.

"Love is patient and kind; Am I always patient? What about kind? 

love does not envy or boast; Do I envy when they succeed, or boast when I do?
it is not arrogant  or rude. Am I rude and arrogant to them?
It does not insist on its own way; Do I want my way only?
it is not irritable or resentful; Am I irritable and resentful to them?
it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Do I rejoice with their truth, or smirk at their wrongs?
Love bears all things, Do I joyfully deal with their "things"?
believes all things, Do I believe them when they tell me things?
hopes all things, Do I hope for their better?
endures all things." Do I give up on them, or do I keep on loving?
(1 Corinthians 13:4-7)

How did you do? To be honest, I didn't like my answers. At first I thought, "Aha! Here's one I don't mind answering: love does not delight in wrongdoings" And then I put some thought to it. Maybe rejoicing in wrongdoings, is the same as revealing them. Maybe it doesn't matter how someone treated me, or did something. Maybe I should just keep it to myself. Venting doesn't always have to include names and details. 

I am learning so much. But love might just be the biggest thing. Love...love isn't a feeling. Its an action, based on faith. And in time, that "feeling" will come. Love is not always returned, not always convenient, and not always easy. But without love, the world would be the most hopeless thing. Ever. Love saved us. Love died for us. How much do we love? I know I don't love that much. 

Here's to learning ever more as we live, learn, and grow! 



 
 "So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love." 1 Corinthians 13:13

Ginger goes again

Remember Ginger?

Well. She's going again.

Its times like these I imagine I resemble a lot of "Peter Pan" or "Anne Shirley" tendencies: a yearning desire for absolutely nothing to change.

But the harsh, cold, true reality is that you can't hold back time. You can't wish it to stop, or to rewind. Time presses on with more endurance than anything else I know or know of. Time changes things we wish to stay the same. Time presses forward, and the more we wish it to hold on, we miss where time has brought us at that moment.

But the thing more consistent than even time itself is God. ("Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever." Hebrews 13:8) And that consistent God is ever faithful, not just to me, but to Ginger as well.

Ginger, as you go, remember that the loving and faithful hand of the Father is on you and all your ways. Know that though time and distance are between us for this season, you are always dear to my heart, and never far from my thoughts. 

Allow the Son to be the light by which you shine. You are so endearing, and lovely, dear Ginger. Let the Father use that! I get overwhelmed thinking of the ways He could. ("For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, 'Let light shine out of darkness,' has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ." 2 Corinthians 4:5&6; "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." John 1:5

I don't know how life will look for you in the coming months; and I dare say neither do you. I know you pray. I love to hear you pray. But sometimes, the words just don't come for any of us. When those times come, take comfort. Your shouts of joy or your wails of grief or your moans of confusion or your silence of thankfulness are each heard, and understood. The Father knows. He kind of thought of everything :). ("...the Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." Romans 8:26)

That passage is pretty cool. It goes on to say, that "he who searches hearts knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God. And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose. For those whom he foreknew he also predestined to be conformed to the image of his Son, in order that he might be the firstborn among many brothers. And those whom he predestined he also called, and those whom he called he also justified, and those whom he justified he also glorified." (Through vs. 30) 

Ginger I don't know what being adults is going to look like for either of us. Where that will take us, and who it will shape us into. But please know that I am praying for you, wherever you go, will love you however He creates you to be, and will visit you, no matter where He calls you to live!

(Ginger and I spent a lot of time together this summer, but this is the only picture we got. Two of our dearest friends between us!) 

May Flowers

May is hard month for me. It has been for a few years.

May first became a month of difficulty three years ago when I said good-bye to someone for the first time. I don't mean good-bye like someone was moving, or to an elderly relative that I didn't really know. I mean, that I stood by the side of a friend, my age, who was ending his battle with cancer. "Emotional" doesn't even begin to describe me during the weeks that followed. I remember getting the news that he was gone and collapsing on the kitchen floor. I had never prayed so hard, and never been so devastated.

Also understand, I was sixteen. I am an overly emotional person. And this was a new experience. Everything felt so huge; I had no idea how to deal with it. So, for an entire year, I wrote him letters. I spoke at his funeral, and was honoured to do so, but it was probably one of the hardest things I have ever had to do.

If you read this post, you can read more about the second reason May is hard.

My Cinco de Mayo nephew is waiting for me. I can't wait to meet him.

Sometimes it feels like, there are still showers in May, and that it's still sort of dark. But I like to think that I just have a few waiting May flowers waiting. And I can't wait to see them in full bloom.