Strength and Joy

Human strength fails. It falls apart, bringing us crumbling to the ground with it. So where is this power we have in God? When we've been trusting him, keeping our eyes up and find ourselves still falling?

Isaiah 41:10 "fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."

How is it that at the moment we are looking up we can still feel like we're falling. Our God wants to strengthen us...but somehow me must learn how to let him.

Digging into the scripture I see it again...something I've known but I can't remember. The key to strength is there. The key to letting him empower - thanksgiving.

Eucharisteo - to give thanks to God, is how we let God fill our lives with his dynamic power.

Colossians 1:11-12 "May you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might, for all endurance and patience with joy, giving thanks to the Father, who has qualified you to share in the inheritance of the saints in light."

I see the connection and it makes me curious - the words there, "strengthened with power" is the word we get dynamite from.

This power is explosive and big and powerful.

And it's directly connected in Greek to the giving of thanks "eucharisteo".
Nehemiah 8:10 says it too... "...And do not grieve, for the joy of the LORD is your strength."

This word "joy" is Chedvah - meaning rejoicing, gladness, joy. In Greek they would use the word "chara". And Chara is the root word of Eucharisteo - to give thanks.

So this power that we long for - this dynamic filling of God - is joy. We need joy. His joy is not just a by product of our faith, it's the power inside of us. Trudging through life, hoping to receive back our joy isn't going to work. We're going to have to find it, and plead with God for it. Because without it, we fall apart.

Strength is Joy.

And joy is found in us giving thanks.

Life is hard, and giving thanks can be hard to come by. I don't want to be a person of thanks only on thanksgiving or special occasions because I want to be filled with this strength each and every day.

And there in giving thanks "eucharisteo" - that is where I find the key to what to give thanks for...because in the middle of that word is another root. "Charis" means grace. And grace is all around me - if I can learn to see it.

This dynamic strength, it's all about having joy (Chedvah, chara), which comes from giving thanks (eucharisteo), as we stand in awe of his grace (charis).

So again, I pull out my list of his gifts, and I write it slowly thanking him again and again...for the ways he loves me.

#653 The hard things that make me pause, and turn back to you.

And the count continues...counting my way to 1000 more gifts and joy overflowing.

A Lesson at Wendy's

I have an unhealthy/healthy habit of taking my two dogs to Wendy's and eating french fries and a frosty. It's unhealthy in that, yes, we're eating lots of greasy fries and a sugar loaded sweet. At the same time, it's healthy for me - it's a time for me to unwind, enjoy my dogs, and somehow re-energize in the quiet.

Lyric's big brown eyes begged me for a taste, and I could feel Rusty's stare burning a hole in my head. And yet, I withstood those adorable eyes and withheld the very thing they desired most. The thing I planned on giving them...but not quite yet.

We bypassed McDonald's on our way to Wendy's in search of better fries. McDonald's is notorious for their cold salty fries, but we have found that at Wendy's we can get fries that are nice and hot and moderate on the salt.

Of course, I'm sure the dogs' don't see the value in searching out the best fries. And as they were waiting, somewhat impatiently, they couldn't understand why they had to wait...The fries were fresh and very hot...what I consider the best, and the dogs couldn't help but drool over the smell. But to my dogs, the best simply meant waiting. And once the fries had cooled off and they got to dig in, I'm certain that they still did not understand the wait. After all, I had saved them the pain of burnt mouths, but they had no idea.

As I savored our treats, I had to ask the question "Am I willing to pass the mediocre for the best God has for me? And am I impatient with him when I have to wait, somehow believing he's withholding something from me unnecessarily?"

There are some things in life that are okay, just like the McDonald's fries, that maybe I would choose out of desire to get it quickly, only to be disappointed when it's not the best. Things worth waiting for, just like the hot fries, sometimes require a lot of patience. Frustratingly I don't always understand why I have to wait, even when looking in hind sight.

On our drive home I thanked God for withholding those things that might burn me and only giving them to me when He knows I'm ready. I know that He understands things I'm completely unaware of.

Tonight I learned a valuable lesson while contemplating - to trust in His timing and wait for the best...and I'm not planning on stopping this habit anytime soon, healthy or not.

Why I Won't Attack You If You See Fifty Shades of Grey

To see or not to see Fifty Shades of Grey...Is that the question? As I look towards this holiday, I'm struck by the fact that, in the theaters, there will be the war of opinions. There will be a "choosing of sides" as people choose to see Fifty Shades of Grey or Old Fashioned. There will be looks of disdain, and incredulous laughs. And the irony of it all? The irony is that February 14th is to be a day of celebrating love. And we're making war.

War has started even before the movies come out. One glance at the comment section of most blogs and articles will show you terse words, pointed fingers, and pride in opinions. I don't dislike the sharing of opinions. Anyone who knows me well can attest to the fact I love a good-natured debate. What I don't enjoy is how hearts are turning against one another, in most cases against people we don't even know!

What do we hope to attain through attacking one another or proving our point? Do we think that attacking another person's opinions will actually change them? I have yet to see that work in any case.

We must come face to face with the fact that when a person chooses to see either of these movies, their choice is rooted in their world view. Attacks do not convince a person to change their world view. It causes them to stand behind their cause in the face of threat.

I have greatly enjoyed reading the opinions of many different people for or against this movie. I value their well thought out opinions, because it provides me with a greater ability to understand their world view, and the world views of others like them. For those interested in the opinions of others, I encourage you to read the thoughts of others. Respect them. Consider what they have to say. Make your own opinion. But don't attack another for theirs - I'm calling for respect, not agreement.

Because of my own world view, I choose not to see this movie. I won't look upon those who choose to see it with judgmental eyes. On matters of opinion, I will debate but I will not fight. I will disagree, but I will not judge. I don't expect to change your world view, because only you can do that.

So this Valentines Day, I choose to love rather than wage war.

Awake

There's this quieting of the soul that happens. When the mind is opened to thinking again. The defense mechanisms fail, and somehow you're glad. The defense against thinking, it seems safe. Yet it's a poison that leaks into every part of your soul. Wherever it goes, a paralyzing numbness follows. 

Our hearts are fragile things. With it enters pain and brokenness. This rendering in two, we dread it, we hate it, avoid it at all costs...yet what it costs is our very selves.

A breath of fresh air fills my lungs as my heart comes alive again. And I see it...with my heart sealed off, stuck in the deepest corner, I can't truly live. And I long to truly live.

You see, Jesus said it clear...that He is the life (John 14:6) . The only way...and he is my only way to truly live. Because in the moments he made me, when three came together in a huddle of hearts to give me life He linked my heart to his (Genesis 1:26) . And it's only when my heart beats in sync with his that it beats at all. And I am alive.

I laugh, the relief coursing through my veins. I'm alive! Truly alive, awake.

 This beating together, I see through his eyes. He shows me the world, just as he sees it. But what he sees...it grieves him. (Genesis 6:6) And as my heart beats with his, it grieves mine too.

Gasping, I reel back. This beating with his heart, it's brought my heart to life. Like water to a parched land. I knew the joy and peace. The giddy happiness. But now this sorrow and pain. And He whispers to me soft. That this is living alive. Because when you live with a heart that's closed, everything around you is grey, lifeless. But when you live with a heart connected to his, beating in time, you get to see a whole rainbow of colors. But you also get to see the black and white. Because in order to taste joy you must know sorrow. In order to live, you must die. (Romans 6:3-4).

And this is why I guarded my heart, why I hid it so deep. Because it hurts to live awake. To live with a kingdom outlook requires me to see how much this world is hurting. How it needs the One I have. How many hearts are not beating because they are locked away in the grey like mine was. God is banging on the door, calling out for them to simply listen for a moment. And I hold my breath, heart pleading that they will listen. Because I know that desperation. And I know the heart gone cold. And it was only grace that brought mine back to life, that reattached my heart to His.

And the reaching hearts, those who hear the call and long to be rescued, I know they try in vane to grab onto Jesus. I desperately want them to know that it's not about hanging on to Jesus, or trying to find him in the dark. It's about letting go, to quit striving. And I tell my own heart too...to quit trying to grab on because I will grow tired and weary. What then? And I don't have to hold on. All along He has been holding on to me. Deuteronomy 33:27

I try to stop flailing and grasping. And the more I try, the more I fail. But as my heart beats with his, I learn his rhythm. So I let go and fall into love. And I allow the Comforter to soothe my heart. And I find it's about focusing on his rhythm that gives me heart a steady one. To focus on His heart calms my own.

Dodging Fast Balls

Life is full of hard decisions, upset schedules, hectic days, long months...One fast ball after another. Most days the ball hits you right in the face, and it's all you can do to catch your breath before the next one comes. Some days you can actually duck in time as it goes sailing by your face, but eluding the next ball is even harder still. Then there are days when you see the fast ball in slow motion, and when you hit it, it soars so far that you wonder how you did it.  Most often for me, I get hit smack in the face. I've never been good with balls, whether it be a soccer ball or life fast ball. I have been blessed enough to dodge a few, but actually hitting them seems few and far between.

So many things tell us that life is suppose to be grand and beautiful. That each new day is the start of a new adventure. We've got bookshelves full of how to books, telling us how to enjoy our vacation to the full, how to create fun memories with those around us, how to make a holiday more special. Do more of this, buy more of that, do more meditating, think happy thoughts, make yourself look on the positive side. And we nod, and say "I can do that!" and we try. I've seen some people succeed on doing those things, and others (like me) who have finally quit trying...but whichever category we fit into, it seems like we all have the same outcome. It simply doesn't work. We aren't happier. Even when these thoughts come from Christian sources, there's something about our hearts that simply doesn't grasp the concepts, even if our minds do.

Sometimes we are so afraid of feeling deeply, that rather than experience joy and sorrow, we trade it for a weak form of sadness and a shallow happiness.  We think that, in so doing, we are shielding our hearts from great pain. What if shielding ourselves from great pain in emotion, is actually creating more pain in numbness?

You've heard the phrase, "pull yourself up by your boot straps". We've all been told to get back up, dust ourselves off and keep going, because you can do it.  All I want to do is lay down and kick my feet and yell and scream. I think at times, we all want to do that. Our sinful nature that caused us to do that as children was no more alive than it is now. We all have days we simply don't want to give grace, don't want to do the dishes one more time, don't want to get out of bed. We all want to scream "I don't want to!" Yet we still go back. We trudge though life, slinging mud as we go. We get filthy, truly believing that getting through life and getting out clean and joyful are antonyms. 

But I'm telling you God washed me, and he says that he only needs to wash my hands and feet, that my whole body doesn't need another bath. And just like Peter, I want him to wash me completely because I'm not sure I got clean the first time. And I easily forget how he comes and washes my stinky, dirty feet. How he's not too much of a King to get down on the ground to touch the feet that have trudged through unnecessary mud. I shake my head in wonder, my head still shaking 'no'. 

But how do I not? How do I not trudge through mud, how do I not get hit by those fast balls, how do I not get frustrated and forget the graces and see things as ugly, and not except those gifts that are somewhere around me? How do I not close my eyes, when closed eyes protect me from all the things I fear. How do I slow down. Stop. Listen. And feel the water rushing over my feet, making them clean. And does the washing ever really stop, or is he working on it now, even as my head shakes a stubborn 'no'. I don't know how to stop this unending cycle, this torrent that makes this sacred ground into mud. The scary thing is, sometimes I Don't Want To!

 I read the words of John, I see the storm through his eyes. My heart searches for reassurance... I want to see Jesus through the eyes of 'the one Jesus loved', because surely he sees clear?

John 6:16-21 : That evening Jesus' disciples went down to the shore to wait for him. But as darkness fell and Jesus still hadn't come back, they got into the boat and headed across the lake toward Capernaum. Soon a gale swept down upon them, and the sea grew very rough. They had rowed three or four miles when suddenly they saw Jesus walking on the water toward the boat. They were terrified, but he called out to them, "Don't be afraid. I am here!" Then they were eager to let him in the boat, and immediately they arrived at their destination!

That second sentence, it catches my attention, I pause long. I see myself in that situation...I see that situation in my life. That moment you actually hit the fast ball, you're standing on your rock, Jesus Christ. I'm seeing the graces, thanking him, and extending them to others. I know for a fact I'm where he wants me to be, and that he has a plan.

 Hoping he'll come back before that next hit. I see the sun going down, that next obstacle in my path coming swift, and rather than stay on that solid rock, I go back into the mud and hope to make it till I can find a new rock to stand on, another experience of God to keep me safe for a moment. In heading into the mud on my own, I try to step lightly and not get so covered in the mud, but on my own there's no way to keep clean. My moments are getting crammed with things I have to do, decisions I have to make, people I have to please. As the chaos surrounds me, my heart is no longer trusting, and I can feel myself slipping.

And just like the disciples, I experience my own gale, and my seas grow very rough. And I grow afraid. No longer looking for Jesus, the only thing I want, is to get to the other side. You can taste the panic, the tears surface. You feel all alone. And like the disciples, instead of turning around, I keep heading strait into the storm, not going moments like this, but hours...even days. The disciples had been fighting their storm for at least 6 or 7 hours when they finally looked up into the face of Jesus. And relief? It doesn't fill them. Fear does. And not just a small amount of fear...they were terrified. 

In the midst of our storm, how easy is it to doubt if the God we see now, is the same one we had communion with before we jumped into our day? What about the Jesus who met with us that one morning we actually took time for devotions. Kind and welcoming, the one who washed our feet. After doing everything wrong, after yelling at the ones we love, neglecting the things we should have done, ignoring the graces, and complaining through our day, are we afraid that this Jesus we see now is someone else?

What if we listen to his voice? What if we grasp on and hold tight to his word. The word that says I am the I AM. The one who reassures of who he is, who displays how he is the same even when his children sin? That's when we become eager to have him close...and we arrive at our destination. 

I write down the scriptures, I post them around. I see the ship in my bathroom, the one that always gets dusty, and who has time in this crazy life? And I smile at the fast ball that I actually get to hit this time. Breathe. It's okay. It's only when I let the torrents of shame touch that dust that it becomes mud. And I thank God that he holds those torrents back when I see dust as simply a reminder...a grace. That dusty ship becomes a great reminder, to invite God into my boat and be thankful that he dusts me off...no mud.

 

And wasn't our destination really not a place, but to be close to him?

 

Bowl fulls of Grace

I can hear the fridge humming away, the computer making little noises. My unwashed bowl sits here, and in my mind I try to make it disappear. If only that worked on dishes, among other things. But, they don't, and in some ways I'm glad that I can't make my messes disappear.

Living life surrendered. Well, it's a beautiful thought. And one that many people say can't be done. At times, I have to admit that I kind of agree. When have I really surrendered? And actually lived that way for an extended period of time? The idea seems laughable. Sometimes, a lot of times, I feel that God has to lift my face - to lift my eyes up to his. And when I actually lift up my eyes without fear, the eyes of grace that meet mine - they tell me that I am made worthy.

"The LORD upholds all who are falling and raises up all who are bowed down." Psalm 145:14 ESV. The LORD, my Yahweh. The one of power and love. YAHWEH of the old testament, and of the new. The creator of my very soul and heart. He is the one who catches me as I fail, and raises me. 

A precious little girl in my life, only two years old, has this concept down. She lifts up her little hands to me, completely trusting, relaxing in my embrace.

If only we could look to God with those eyes of trust, relaxing into the grace. Oh to have childlike faith!!!

"He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap; he seats them with princes and has them inherit a throne of honor. "For the foundations of the earth are the LORD's; on them he has set the world."

Do you realize dear one? Do you understand dear heart of mine? The Lord picks us up, those who come to him in our brokenness, and he puts us in places of honor. The foundations of the earth, the very things he has set in place, on those he has set the world. And even though our world has it wrong so much of the time, honor does not belong to those who have it right all of the time. But to the humble and broken who come in humility - those are the ones who truly have it right.

And a laugh raises up in my throat and I look around. This mess...I certainly don't have it right. The confusion in my heart and mind, no there is no order and correctness here. But our God, he loves this. He loves me in my mess. And His beautiful grace abounds all the more. 

I picture his grace all around me, tangible in this mess. The grace of a dirty dish and the food he has provided. The humming of the fridge is music to my ears. And it's not because of what I have. It's the very fact that it pleased God to give it to me. I am not grateful to have more than others. I am grateful because God presented me with a gift. 

He sees my mess, he sees the way I can not contain all these gifts he has lavished. And He knows that I was made for eternity, so how can I truly understand how to live inside of time? He never meant for me to. And the fact that I am okay with that - okay that  I can't do it on my own and lift up my hands for him to carry me through...that's what life surrendered looks like. 

This is Life Surrendered, God? My eyes burn. He never asked too much of me - in fact all he asked was that I receive the gift of his son shown through all these gifts around me. And that in excepting these little gifts, I've in fact accepted his son. It's so simple, and so beautiful.  

I have believed him, and in the moment I hold this dirty dish, this grace bowl, and accept it as gift, I have accepted his son.

And just as a small child is grateful for the smallest trinkets her father gives her, so I am thrilled with the gifts my Yahweh has placed in my hands. And through this lens of grace I see the smile spread across his face.

This is the Beautiful Surrender.

A society without pain or a life with choices?

Dear reader, you may be aware that my goal for lent was to strip my life of the things that distract me in order to focus on this question : Is God really real? Seeing the movie God's Not Dead brought me face to face with this question. And so I ask again, and I search.

When I talk to an Atheist, main topics include the question 'If God is real and good, then why does he allow horrible things to happen? If he does, he has horrible moral standards!'

My friend, does he have horrible moral standards, or are we at odds with our desire for freedom of choice and relief from any type of hardship?

Let's consider this in depth. You may be familiar with a book called The Giver. You may be interested to know that they are coming out with a movie based on this story. In this make believe society, all inhabitants conform to a way of life that they agreed on long ago, and of which they submit their children. In an effort to be unaffected by any type of pain, they agreed to live in a world devoid of anything that could cause discomfort. This world they created had no weather changes, so they would never be too hot or too cold. They were given jobs to do, so that no one could be without purpose. Assigning each family a boy and girl child, no mother and father would feel the pain of having no children, and no child would be homeless. With the elderly and unwanted going to 'another city', they would never experience the pain of death.

Would you want to live in this society? Before you answer, you might like to know what this cost them. With no weather changes, there children would never build a snowman or play in the sun. With no choice in jobs, they could not dream and explore. Being given two children, these parents would never experience the joy of a unique family of their own flesh and blood. With the elderly gone, they would not grow old watching their grandchildren grow up. These fabricated livelihoods protected them from immediate threats that seemed life ending, but stripped them of the day to day joys of living life to the full.

Even though we see this scenario in books and in movies, and are appalled by what we see, we still blame God for not creating this seemingly perfect society for us. Why does a good God allow all these things to happen? Why doesn't he protect us from all these things that plague our world? Using the same logic, I must ask, if God indeed created this society for us, would we be calling foul for all the things we were missing out on? We will have to sacrifice these experiences if we want a life devoid of pain.

We are asking God to essentially take away the pain, but in some way leave the experience. That is like going on a water ride to cool off, but requiring that you don't get wet. Or wanting to build a sandcastle, but not get your hands dirty. Every experience is made up of lots of little pieces in a puzzle, and when you start taking these pieces away, you will never have the whole picture.

God allows these experiences because he intends to leave our free will intact. He will not create a society like the one in The Giver, because rather than forcing us to conform to a belief and lifestyle, he invites us to freely choose his love. And when we freely choose, and allow our hearts to truly experience the world he has given us, then we will truly embrace the experience of his love.

Now it's time for you to choose. Would you rather a society without pain or a life with choices and experiences?



 

The River - My Life

No two rivers ever look the same. Rivers run fast, they rush over stones and smooth them, they rush through turns and straiten them, and often they have a lot of rapids. The land around them is never the same - the same tree, or bush, or rise will never appear twice. But somehow, they all empty into the ocean, in a cascading of water.

Life is very much the same. Each person, just like a river, never will be like another one. We are all different. Life has troubles along our paths, and honestly they often seem to be boulders. Later, I'm sure, we'll see them as mere pebbles. 

Fast balls seem to fly at us from all angles, throwing in twists we weren't expecting. I often find that these huge turns in the river always bring me back around so that I am no more than a degree off from where I was headed - just like a river that seems to have great big turns, but on inspection of a map, it seems to be going almost strait.

Turbulence, what is life without it? Rapids knock us out of the life boat, and sometimes you have to ride them to the end before you can get back in.

We have to experience moments as they come, just like the scenery along the river. No matter where I go in life, I will never catch that one moment again. Just like I will not see the same tree further down the river.

Just like the rivers, every human life has a different path - a different story to tell - but no matter what stones we have to smooth, or turns we have to maneuver, or rapids we have to ride, we are all heading towards our eternity. This eternity, just like the ocean, has no depth that can be found, or ending we can ever see. But it is certainly full of beautiful mysteries for us to explore.

It's so easy to obsess over times in our lives, or decisions we have to make. And often, I think we are so close that we see only the turn, instead of the entire picture. We have a beautifully painted map if we will only take a look. Scripture shows us how seeing the entire picture can change your view of an event. I want to see the picture God is painting of my story, not only treasure the moments along my path, but have the eyes to see His big picture too.

As water runs over my hands, I am reminded of this picture, reminded of the "river of my life". But then I smile, because I'm also reminded of something else. In God's masterpiece of my life, there is no drain, and no moments "go down the drain" and no efforts are worth nothing. Because all those moments that seem to be doing just that - going down the drain - they are simply moments in which my rocky character is being smoothed out. And so, I let this river run it's course, I hang on tight, enjoy the scenery, and remember that a renewal of hope is a map look away.

Lent - a heart law

I fail. I utterly fail. I fail the people I love, I fail my job, I fail my home and my pets. Over and over I see it. I can not measure up.

The week before Lent, I sat in bed pondering what it was really all about. The more that I asked God, the more I began to understand. In order for God to get it through this thick scull of mine, He let me know what he wanted me to give up...then he lead me to the answer of why. It was pressed into my heart that for lent I should give up Facebook and novels.

Why God, why those? In that moment of asking why, I knew why. It was because I had to ask. I had to ask why I had to give those up for him. Didn't I love him even when I had those things. This is what I learned - the reason I gave up those things in particular.

 My Facebook was my door into the lives of others, and their door into mine. I wanted to feel like I was apart of those big moments in their lives - even though I could not be there. And the farther I go into Lent the more I see - I was not willing to invest myself in those moments. I just wanted to say I was there without the work. The heart work of dedication. And my family? I was no better off with them because I was buried neck deep in "trying to sort of be there" rather that just....just being there.

 And the books? Let me ask you this - do you want to read a book if you're not sure the author will give you some sort of satisfying ending? Even if it's bitter sweet, there must be an ending. And I love that last chapter of a book, where everything comes together. Oh, I've never read a chapter so slow as the last chapter. What our hearts need to learn, what mine must learn even haltingly, is that the story God is writing in our lives will have a glorious ending. I don't need a book for that beautiful ending, and I don't need to fear.

Oh that my heart could learn these lessons and learn them well. The beauty of Lent - it's in the ugly things. It's in the torn apart, the broken, the failings. In these things I see a need for a savior, and isn't that the point of Lent?

I thought that giving up the books and the Facebook would be easy, and at first it was. What a small law to keep. But God is pressing into my heart that this agreement I made with him was not about an item or a web page. It was about a heart matter, a point of view, a heart law. And my heart has broken this law that I agreed to.

And so I tell myself no. I will not allow myself to bury in and hide my head. I read his word and sharpen my sword. I invest and I live with as much hope as I can.

But still I fail and pick myself up over and over....over again. My family I have failed, I'm not good at this raw heart lesson God is teaching me. So I reach out again and try to hold onto Jesus in the waves instead of hanging onto the boat.

And I laugh and cry at the same time. I know that this - this undoing of the heart, this opening up - this truly is Lent, and though I've failed in Law, I have overcome through my salvation. I have experienced Lent to the full - failing until you see that you can not keep any law, that Christ must keep it for you. Humility and salvation - there is beauty in the broken here.

insecurites become blessings.

Our hearts are fragile, and they're searching for something, but what? What are we so desperate for? I walk through the mall and I see all these people and they all search for the same thing. Unknowingly they drag unsuspecting young people along with them into this death trap. This thing we search for? What is it?

We see it in the magazines that show celebrities and how they keep falling apart. I see it in the love stories we watch at the movies. I see it in the climb for power in the workplace. I see it when I look in the mirror.

This grasping, is it not meaning and value we search for? We think that wealth, schooling, makeup, relationships, and statuses will make us feel like we are worth something. We all want to be something special.

Don't be fooled. There is not one among us who does not hunger after being valued. And that, that is a good thing.

I see the unshed tears in her eyes as she views herself in the mirror. I see the frustration as she tries to loose those pesky pounds. I see the failure she feels when she sees her grades. I see the desperation clawing her heart as she holds onto hoped for love.

I see myself. Sometimes it's not the literal, sometimes it's in the heart that these things happen. The ugliness of the heart that you see through the mirror of scripture. The weight of sin that starving those sins isn't making them go away. The grades we give ourselves when we must measure up to some ideal. The love we are so sure we can't have from Christ.

This desperation, this need for meaning. This meaningless world grates on our hearts meant for eternity and perfect love. That's why we aren't satisfied. We will never find ourselves with perfect value and meaning and love in this world.

Let that sink in...

You will never grasp complete love while you're on this earth.

Wait, but what of experiencing God's love? What of salvation? That is the road to learning of this love, but does not Paul even say that God will bring his salvation to completion on that day? God's love is something that we will not fully encounter until we are made like him. We can be overwhelmed by it, we can revel in that love and feel our value. But dear woman, sister, our hearts can not hold all the love God can give. Not until He makes us perfect.

And that is when we come face to face with JOY!

Let God's love rush over you, and realize that there is absolutely no end to experiencing more. There will always be more of God to fill you to overflowing. And because there is more, we will continue to search. And does the fact that we continue to search show us that we have this need for value, to be complete?

I'm a glad that I have a hole that I can not fill. I am praising God that I have this insecurity. This need for more. Because when he draws me near, and my search continues in him? That is when I get to know my savior's heart. That's when I get to be filled through and through. And the adventures are waiting for us, these adventures to jump in, to feel unsure, to allow that hole to open wide. That's when God starts pouring in.

When you know where to look, insecurities become a blessing in disguise. They become the catalyst to searching and knowing the heart of our Lord. Fears will creep in, questions will arise. But we cling to our light, and soon we see the one step in front of us. Taking that step, God will always shine a light on the next one. And that step will always lead us closer to God.

Like the proverbs woman, I laugh at tomorrow. I know that these insecurities are only lies. They are only the lies the devil tells me...the ones he hopes will make me distrust my God. But, I have the choice to make. And I make it boldly and step out.

The last step into God's love held firm, and I know the next one will too.

Zephaniah - And the story of a Father and Child

Is God really real in MY life?

I feel shut out of His presence, unnoticed and rebuffed. I do not feel welcomed before God, nor do I feel desired or changed. My life feels dead, as though I’m not living. My heart is cold as stone. I do not see the hands of God working in me, and I do not have the strength to cry out to him in my weakness. Will my voice not work, or does it refuse to work? I am frozen in time, unable to move. There is no escape from this blackness, I can not see. I am numb. I am cold. I am dead.

I know that God is the only one who can change me. I know that no amount of struggling is going to save me. My flailing arms grow weak, and I know that I can not shake off these bonds. There is no escape. I can not save myself. No amount of good deeds will change my ending. No amount of effort will seal a good fate. There is nothing I can do. I give up my will. I struggle and fail to live because this is not really life. This is only the walking dead. I can not fake this slow dying. There is no smile, no cheerful act that can change the way I feel. There is no standing up straight, I will only be knocked down again. I can not change the way I feel, nor do I want to have a superficial light on the horizon.

I fall completely into the arms of Grace. I claim the promises of Love. I cling to Mercy.

I read the verses, I memorize them, I cry them out, and I sing them. My mind holds on to these words, my heart is gasping them out.

THE LORD your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing. Zephaniah 3:17

The Lord - my Lord. I cling to these words...I remember his many names. El Roy, oh God who sees me. I grab onto this hope that he does see me, laying here covered in the mud. I hold onto the truth that God sees through this grime and desolation. That there is something to see inside of me…

I cling to the hope that GOD IS WITH ME. That He really is the Jesus who was born into humanity. Who knew our pain, who knew this hopeless life. I cling to him because he was not born into the rich and the wealthy. He was not born a King. He knows the hardship? Does he know this ruthless life? And He really chose it?

He delights in me. I look in the mirror, at all this grime. This dust, this brokenness crumbling. And I see nothing to delight in. Nothing to catch his eye, or make him smile. And I cry for the beauty that would delight him. The heart of kindness, the white as snow purity. Somehow he delights? He is not blind. He sees me as I truly am, do I?

He quiets me with his amazing love...but only if I am willing to be quieted. After seeing all that dirt and grime and how can God really delight. Yet still, he comes close and calls me child. And his love tells me that no matter who I am or what I’ve done, or what I never ever accomplish...he will STILL love me. And I suddenly feel the peace that seizes my heart when my mother or father wraps me up and tells me it’s ok...What more love God must have since he sees every single thing in my heart! His love stills my heart, and my heart runs water down my face.

And to know, this wet mess of tears and grime and sin, He rejoices over me...I fall apart. I can not hold myself together. I’ve known this mess from the start. He has joy when he looks upon this face of mine. And I ask again - The one who delights in me, does he see the real me? And I see something else? Is what I see a lie?

And I close my eyes and see a child...a small blond girl in her Daddy’s arms. I see joy written on her face, hands held to the sky, trust...the Kingdom belongs to such as these. The daddy laughs and smiles, and I can see his face rejoice. Bliss. Yes, the little girl will hurt, yes she will fall, but she looks up into the face of a daddy who can wipe away those tears, and that mud, and he picks her up. All trust, all love, all peace. Wonderful LOVE.

The love of Christ washes me clean...washes away the muck and dirt and lies that Satan has painted my heart with, and what I begin to see...I begin to see what God sees. That little girl, full of joy and trust, still lives in me. 

Looking up into the face of the Father, He scoops me up, wipes away the tears and grime... and in His arms is peace... and in His eyes...Rejoicing and Delight.

Second Chances and the wonder of Grace

Anger reared it's head as quiet gentleness bent it's head. Control was fleeting as infuriation blinded all love and compassion. 

There are days when we lose control, and either we can't regain our composure, or we simply won't. This sinful nature, these ugly displays of emotion, they try to get a hold on me - to squeeze out His love and render useless this amazing freedom. My heart begins to boil, my hands clench. And worst of all, I despise it. I despise these hands, this heart, this world.

Soft and gentle, these words play. Hands to ears I try to shut it out, for I despise the gentle love. I count it worthless. But it coaxes me, and I can not resist. Blinded by my failure and fury, this unrestrained grace breaks down the walls and renders my anger useless. I am relieved.

I can not give grace when I can not receive it. I can not be full of love, when my heart does not know it. I can not be full of joy unless I know the joy giver. I can not give forgiveness, when I refuse to except it.

Everything I try to be, everything I try to give - without excepting it, embracing it, knowing it - I can not give it. If I try to keep giving these things, I will run empty. And all that is left is the anger and hatred and cruelty. These things are what I am apart from the One who gives all good things. Apart from Him, nothing is good.

Tears of release as I listen to song after song - these songs, they are love songs of my Savior. And I listen to each word, and I hear the heart of Love. And I'm reminded that I am a child of the One True King. And it stuns me silent I am told that the past does not matter - that it's forgiven. And I ask, is not one minute ago the past?  Anything done or experienced...that is past.

I see my slate - the one that is wiped clean. And I see these clothes white as snow. Bewildered, my eyes fill again with tears. And the only one to see is God, and I leave my sunglasses in place as I cope with this new reality. This overwhelming grace. I know the anger and I know my failings. I know all the things I should have done differently. And I accept his yoke...

Matthew 11:29 "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls."

The sun warms my face as He warms my heart. The spirit has whispered to my heart, and it begins to heal.

I drive home, listening to song after song repeating the same messages. God is love and forgiveness. I am wanted and I am loved. And he is enough, no matter what I've done in my long ago past or in my moment ago failures.

At home I'm met by two wiggling dogs with open paws, gentle eyes, and loving hearts.

I shake my head in wonder as I write my 100th gift.

100. Second Chances

Accepting His Forgiveness

Life continues on and on, and my heart becomes more and more numb to God. And I see this truth, that Christ died for all transgressions, and isn't his heart full of grace? My mind says yes, but my life says no.

Those little sins, and even those things we call "nothing" those are what make my heart numb. Because not only do I refuse to label them, I refuse to receive God's grace regarding them. And aren't  I disbelieving in his goodness and love when I reject his forgiveness? I swallow hard, and blink eyes and try to take it in. In not coming to Christ and excepting and even embracing his love, I am throwing the cross, his love, his grace, his goodness....I'm throwing it all in his face and saying an emphatic "no!"

No to his love? Why would anyone do that, especially a Christian? Especially a Christian....This is the story of mankind, and why did I think I was immune? We throw it away because it's far too good to be true! It's far too good to be true that I can make a bad choice, and then turn to God and throw myself at his feet and still feel his grace. He still loves me in the moment of my sin...

Romans 5:8  - But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

While we were still sinning, and throwing it in his face, and yelling and screaming at him, and living out our "no", that's when he showed just how much he loves us...that's when he poured out his love on the cross and did the unimaginable. 

But I still struggle, because with a numb heart how do I know when I throw it at him? And I see my journal laying there untouched...the one I write my own One Thousand Gifts in, just like Ann Voskamp. And it lies there closed, and I don't even know when I last took time to write in it. And I know it's not just about writing it down, it's about actually thanking God...but without the physical act, the heart act has failed.

I struggle and fight this mundane life, this life full of mistakes. And I refuse to believe Christ doesn't care about the moments of my life. And doesn't he give me each breath, so how could he not care about them? I refuse to give the Devil a strong hold in my life, and isn't his goal to make me not trust in God's goodness....just like Adam and Eve fell for his lies, the devil wants me too to believe his lies, to refuse to trust in God's goodness.

And it's an every day battle, to keep trusting in God's love, to keep giving thanks, to fall into God's arm's each day. And with His kind of love, what do I really have to fear?

And I want to live out a "yes" to God in my life. So I remember his love and I accept his grace. I accept that I really am forgiven, treasured, wanted, and loved. And I see hope replace my numbness.

Hearts vulnerable and Living Free

My mind goes wild, and my heart beats wild too. My heart cries out silently to the Christians all around. And I wish that it weren't silent. If only it were like the shot heard around the world...

Listen to me cry out, hear my words. We are falling apart. We are being deceived. We are an immobilized people. We sit in our beautiful church buildings and we smile and sing and listen and make commitments to change. And there we sit, doing nothing. We go home, back to our jobs, our lives, our homes. We go back with a focus to change ourselves.

I see it in the mirror, this need to change self. To gain more control of desires, to learn to be better. This self discipline, it wears on me.  I throw it out the window, refuse to look in the mirror. I sit and block it out. And I am dead in spirit and alive in body. And why would I want this and how do I get the strength to change?

I run through the gospels, my mind brushing fingers across memory. I want to feel it, to see it. And in my mind's eye, I do. I see Christ and I see service. I see dirt and filthy sandals and hands washing away grime. I see wet hair with dirt and leaves and accepting eyes. I see hands letting go of stones and words being written in sand. I see fishing nets and knives cutting away and cleaning. I see arms around children, and food in hand with grins across faces.

I see service.

What I see is a Christ who came to live. Came to live among us, and isn't his name Emmanuel? And wasn't that one of the first names we knew him by? God with us. God living among us. Not sitting teaching for hours, not home working on self discipline. No, this man, this Christ, this holy one sent to save us - he came to go and serve.

And I see it clear. All this sitting around, this trying to find the strength to change. And is this really what Christ modeled for us or is this what we've imagined for ourselves? And am I afraid to dig my hands into dirt, and lift the battered off the ground, and wrap my arms around the filthy and unclean. And am I really afraid to live Christ. Because what was it? What was this living that he did other than a drink offering? And am I really ready to be pored out? To be emptied of myself and filled with God? And his sacrifice was so great, can I also sacrifice like that?

I am afraid. I am afraid of what He will ask, and will I be strong enough? I am broken and battered and dirty and unclean; and how do I lift others up when I can not even rise to my own feet. I try and I fail and I am a mess. And I see the faces of family around me, and I can not help them. So we all stay on the ground beaten and bruised and together we moan. And I just sit there.

What is it about this giving away that so scares me? I am comfortable. Comfortable in this discomfort. And I refuse to really see it because I hide in this crazy life. And like a blanket covers my face and I am blind, I allow this comfort to cover this broken heart and the light doesn't touch it. And if this light, this truth, if it does not touch it, my eyes will remain comfortable. The burning light, how do I allow the pain of opening my eyes, and is it really worth it?

I nod yes slow. I look into the eyes of true comfort. I look into Christ's love eyes. And I slowly begin to release my hold on this comfort blanket. And he takes my hands slow, holds my heart and I try to keep breathing. I feel vulnerable, and it will not end with this uncovering. But I was never meant to live comfortable and safe, I was meant to live surrendered and free and vulnerable.

I struggle, and try to grab the blanket again, and he coaxes me quietly. I know that voice, and I trust. And I know that this releasing will only happen one little step at a time. But I am afraid and unafraid at the same time. I know my Jesus, I know that he is my comfort. I feel his love rain down. I want this surrender, and I want this living free. Free to live as Christ, to serve.

  And I open my heart to the fear, because a fearful vulnerable heart that is unafraid and protected because of Christ....That is a heart that is ready to live life surrendered. 

The Hard Gifts

I give up before I even open my eyes. The puppy cries. My heart cries too. How did life become all about surviving? And is it truly life when that's all I do?

The heart feels limp, limp as my wet hair after standing in water coming down. I hope it will wash away these feelings...but I'm not sure what these feelings are. Perhaps the walking dead? I feel dead and I wonder why these lungs keep breathing in and out. And some days I wish they wouldn't.

And I ask, why does God still care when my heart is so broken? Why does he want to pick up the pieces again, and does he really? And why can't I trust? And then I begin to remember.

I take a breath and practice...practice. I practice looking at the past, at remembering what God has done. And I see a little blond girl playing games outside, and digging in flower beds, and seeing all the flowers believing that she really did make them grow. And I see a face of trust. Where did that child bliss go? And do we really have to let it go or is it choice?

And I remember to give thanks for the past and the present. I see how easy it was to give thanks, because God seemed in control and I had nothing to fear. And I gave thanks for the ants and the flowers and the cold water on the counter. Trust - just complete trust. Childhood bliss was just trust? And I shake my head and a smile forms. I know how to learn to trust again, and is it really as easy as giving thanks? Can I have that bliss again?

So I count -
82 - Broken guitar strings and forgotten foot stools
83 - Shadows playing on the blinds and on guitar strings
84 - dusty pianos

I thank God for his blessings, and is he really a good God who loves me? And the more I count all as grace - as blessing - the more I see as gift and only a good God can give good gifts.

And what of the hard things in life? I sit back into the past, the table at the bookstore, Mom and Dad enjoying a muffin together. A smile turns my lips. And the question about the what ifs. What if something happens. What if we don't get the jobs we want and what if we loose what we have. And we know to keep trusting. Keep trusting because hasn't God provided already? And why would he stop?

But what about those circumstances, and how to make sense of the going ons.  And he's still good even if they're not? No, I shake my head. And I speak it, more to myself because I'm the one in need of hearing these truths. These things - the breaking and hurting and struggling - they are not just allowed to happen. They are gift. They are blessing. And I try to count them not just on paper but on the tablet of my heart. Because everything that happens is simply preparing us to be more like Jesus. More like Love himself. And who wants anything else but to be made whole? And so I thank him one thing at a time. For the hard and the easy, the ugly and the beautiful. And nothing ever falls outside the label of grace blessings.

I look around at the mess and say "blessing" (85). The calender has a sticky note with work hours on it. I don't feel the energy today. But still I say it quiet. "grace" (86). The weeds grow and I sit and I am lazy. And still I look to God and say "this is grace"(87) . The floor has just dried, and I wish that puppies knew to go outside..."blessing"(88). One at a time I count. And I say a prayer of thanks as I write them.

This love of God shown through his blessings...just as in salvation we accepted it, still each day we grow in our salvation by seeing his blessings and grace and naming them. And only when we name them as gift will we begin to live as though they are gift.

Hearts open

My heart opens out and up, and I glimpse the wonder of God working in my life and the lives of others.

Why do we hurt? Why do we get bitter? I've been learning, and I've been giving thanks. Giving thanks to God helps us to trust God. We thank him for what he is doing and what he has done, and seeing all of his mighty works in the past gives us a hope for more mighty works in the future. So I thank him for the hard, the painful, the bitter. And I open my heart to Him and to what he's doing.

Hearts with complete trust in God are soft hearts, because hearts that trust in him have the Spirit's heart beating with their own. And it's in this syncing of heart beats that we come to life.

And it's the failure to sync that kills our hearts. It's the failure to keep trusting the Lord that causes us to fall apart. I take a breath, and see distrust in my own face. A distrust that He really can work out everything for my good. A distrust in his plan...and instead of falling into myself, I try to allow my heart to fall out to God and to others.

I don't like being vulnerable, and living with an open heart is the last thing that comes naturally. If I shut off my heart and refuse to allow anything to phase it, my heart feels protected. But that's when bitterness and pain creep up on me. And I fail to see them, or if I do, I refuse to stop them.

Living in freedom, living fully, is about allowing God to work in and through you by reaching out to others, and most importantly, up to God. When I trust God to live through me, and to heal the brokenness inside of me, I can open up to others. It's not about me. It's about God. And so I have nothing to fear in living with this heart that is open.

It hurts. It hurts to live open to the people around you and allow them to see you. But in some ways, it's a good pain. But only when you're allowing God to shine through. On my own I am dirty and ugly. I am the undesirable leper who becomes beautiful when He heals me. When my heart trusts in him, I am healed. And isn't it in my weakness and brokenness that God's greatness comes through? My bitterness turns to love. My hurt becomes my understanding and compassion. In the hands of the Almighty, every thing in me, and everything that has happened to me, turns out to be a blessing to me and to others. And I am beautiful. 

And it's in loosing control of this crazy heart that I learn that God is already in control. And I realize that controlling these emotions is simply a distrust that God can work through them. And without them, I feel dead. And I know that with the pain, it's o.k. to cry out with God and say "My God, why have you forsaken me?" But instead of asking I push away. And wasn't that what the thief did? Was not distrust on his breath. And the other man? Wasn't it the question on his lips that brought him to God?

And I ask "why?" and his all consuming love comes and soothes the breaks, and he puts me back together. And then I see it clear - to trust in the Lord with all of my heart is what will make me whole. And thanksgiving is how I learn to trust. And I continue to write my own one thousand gifts. And I already see the change.

I give thanks constantly, and I learn to accept all things as grace. And my heart begins to come back to life.

Thankfulness.

Thanksgiving - we are to be filled with it. And I know this. I know that Christians are constantly told to be thankful, and aren't we as children taught to always thank? And aren't we taught to thank after what has been done, and never expected to thank when told "no"? And is this really the right way or is it the world's view? Thankfulness when getting what we want, and anger when we don't? And we think we're entitled, and didn't Adam and Eve do the same?

I look to scripture for this, for a picture of what it's like to give thanks. And I drop my eyes and my heart grows weary. We've been taught the wrong way all along.

To give thanks - what does it mean? I read the words of Ann Voskamp and I try to grasp it. That we are entitled to nothing and that all is grace. And that when all is grace, we can give thanks for everything. And we must look at the world through his lenses - and we must be in awe and then thanks begins to form. But it takes looking. It takes acknowledging.

I start with the first people, in the beginning of Genesis. And I begin to see a trend through the entirety of scripture. In the beginning why did Eve sin? Instead of a heart full of thanksgiving for all of God's grace around her in the garden, her heart turned cold with thanklessness. She heard the whisper of the serpent, she heard him ask why God was with-holding something that belonged to her. Instead of Grace, rights consumed her.

I know that I would have fallen prey just like Eve. When I don't think I have enough, when I feel others are taking advantage of me or my time, when I don't see God as enough. That's when thanklessness creeps into my heart an inch at a time. And I didn't even know it, and now it claims my heart and squeezes out the light. And there's no release from this dark outlook on life and God unless I give thanks. And I don't want to give thanks. It seems meaningless. 

What does Romans say, and how much of myself can I see...

18 For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men who suppress the truth in unrighteousness, 19 because that which is known about God is evident within them; for God made it evident to them. 20 For since the creation of the world His invisible attributes, His eternal power and divine nature, have been clearly seen, being understood through what has been made, so that they are without excuse. 21 For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened. 22 Professing to be wise, they became fools, 23 and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man and of birds and four-footed animals and crawling creatures. 24 Therefore God gave them over in the lusts of their hearts to impurity, so that their bodies would be dishonored among them. 25 For they exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served the creature rather than the Creator, who is blessed forever. Amen.

And I read it slow and I read it again. And won't you really read it with your heart with me? I can put my name in for "they". And the Israelites share this in common with me. It's not that we don't see God. For even without his word, we see him at work in all of creation. And I refuse to honor him - I don't credit to him for everything around me. As though their are accidents. And not seeing him as the one who gives all these amazing gifts, I refuse to give thanks. My thanksgiving comes with our nation and at our feast we go around the table saying we are thankful for....I usually say my family. And is it that I struggle to come up with other things because I don't see other things as grace? And my thanks feels empty because it's not a part of the way I live and so it is not a part of my heart.

Throughout scripture, I see people suffer trials, and then come through with God at their side. And they have learned something more, or so they hope. And we all mistakes in this race, and we detest the hard hills when we feel we are running at too high altitudes and we can't breath for all the pain. But the truth is, we are getting stronger. We are seeing God in all his provision, and it helps us to give thanks as we feel a release from the struggle. And this thanksgiving is this fresh air and we feel alive. And I wonder if we gave thanks even during the climb, if our lungs would be full of God. And perhaps the run wouldn't be as hard. And we could actually finish well.

And Jesus shows me how to give thanks. And he shows me when. It's not after things have been resolved. Sometimes God wants us to give thanks, and then the resolve comes after.

41 So they removed the stone. Then Jesus raised His eyes, and said, "Father, I thank You that You have heard Me. 42 "I knew that You always hear Me; but because of the people standing around I said it, so that they may believe that You sent Me." 43 When He had said these things, He cried out with a loud voice, "Lazarus, come forth." 44 The man who had died came forth, bound hand and foot with wrappings, and his face was wrapped around with a cloth. Jesus said to them, "Unbind him, and let him go."

Jesus gave thanks before Lazarus came forth. And he gave thanks before he broke the bread and fed the thousands. And I only thank after? And perhaps it needs to be a thanks for God giving what's best, instead of thankfulness for answers we like. And can we teach this to our children? Teach them to live in a state of thankfulness for all things. For the vegetables on their plates, and the "no's" of life? Because a "no" simply means a yes to something better. 

We can only live the way we were created to when we start saying "no" to thanklessness, and when we choose to say no to the serpents lie.  When we thank God for everything around us, that is when we glorify him because that's when we see him for who he is - James 1:17  Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

And isn't this truly surrender? Excepting everything as a gift and letting go and keeping our eyes on God, and giving thanks? 

Striving, surrendering, falling apart.

My mind gets caught on all the does and don'ts of Christianity...my Bible study book keeps telling me to work out my salvation. I want to hind under a pillow, to hide my face of shame and failure.

Philippians 2:12-18

¹² Therefore, my dear friends, as you have always obeyed—not only in my presence, but now much more in my absence—continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling, ¹³ for it is God who works in you to will and to act in order to fulfill his good purpose.
¹⁴ Do everything without grumbling or arguing, ¹⁵ so that you may become blameless and pure, “children of God without fault in a warped and crooked generation.” Then you will shine among them like stars in the sky ¹⁶ as you hold firmly to the word of life. And then I will be able to boast on the day of Christ that I did not run or labor in vain. ¹⁷ But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you. ¹⁸ So you too should be glad and rejoice with me.

I lift up my head when I hear the words "children of God" I look up to God. 

I can not work out my own salvation...not on my own. I fail miserably every time I try. And from around me I can hear voices of Christians around the world yelling accusations.  They say I've not tried hard enough. That I have not submitted myself entirely. That I don't read my Bible enough....It's never enough. 

I remember the phrase that I repeat to my damaged heart by the hour - "look out and up" Look out to others and up to God. And as I do my perspective changes. Instead of hearing these accusations I hear desperate cries for help. Because these same people are just like me...they are falling apart and they need to know that God is the one who puts together the broken pieces. They yell because they see these faults in themselves. They cry out because not even these things are enough. And I know what they need - for God to be enough.

God is enough. He's enough to work in you and to save you. And my tired body gives up the fight. And his arms hold me up because I can not stand on my own. And that is when I read those verses again and say - obedience starts when you learn to give up the fight and allow God to fight for you. 

It's in that moment of complete failure that God says "just love me". And the greatest commandment to love rings true. "for it is God who works in you" and he will work to create a masterpiece when your heart is consumed with love because love breaks down barriers. And isn't that truly the problem? Isn't Paul telling us to allow God into every part of our lives. And isn't my greatest hurt surrounded by walls and isn't it soothed when God's love and mercy surround it.

And here stops the striving, because in God's love the walls are broken down. And I'm freed to live in complete freedom and obedience. And how could I grumble when my eyes are focused away from myself. And I begin to shine. I shine through the cracks of my brokenness and his love pours out because it can do nothing else. 

So I take the step of surrender, and I open my heart. This love consumes and I am whole.

The breathing

A life of blessing, I breath deep and breath out. Every intake of air a blessing, every out breathing a praise. Because every breath I take is a gift, and every response must be thanks. I recognize the gifts, and I give thanks. And it becomes a mantra. And what a blessing it is to have a reminder that is sustaining me.
Blessings and praises. These are the way of life - the breathing in and out. And we can't truly live unless we have these. Heartache takes away my breath. It makes breathing painful. My eyes search for any blessing, my heart gives thanks for the unseen blessings I can't see.
Mistakes and hardship are a part of the Christian life. I've been told this many times. That's it's a characteristic. My heart rebels against the idea. I breath in and out.
The heartache that makes you take a sharp intake of air, the stress that overwhelms and you breath slowly out. Longer intakes, longer out takes. And I see a pattern. A pattern that God created into our very bodies. More blessings.
It's in the hardships that we must breath in - to truly overcome, we must see God's blessings. We must breath in his blessings, and keep praising him. We breath slow to stay calm - we take long breaths. Christ sustains us as we number our blessings and when praises never cease on our lips. These are the breaths of our souls.

Be still - grace and love

Be still before the Lord - just be still. My heart rejoices at that. At the fact that all he requires is for me is to be still. Out of our love for him comes trust, and trust manifested in our lives is simply a still heart. I cling to that as I live and breath and face the troubles of a fallen human race - when facing our shattered hearts.

    I choose to be still. I choose to listen, to open my heart and my mind and allow God’s love to flow over me. I wait, and I feel a peace begin to wash over me. My heart is renewed.

    It’s so easy to be caught up in the mistakes of this world, to lose sight of the beauty of God and his divine hand gently carrying us along. It’s so easy to forget that God understands all of my own failings, as well as those of others. As I do what scripture tells us -  “Remember the wonders he has done, his miracles, and the judgments he pronounced...” Psalm 105:5 - as I remember just as commanded I get new insight. I recall the judgements he pronounced - and realize they were grace. I realize that the loving Father led his children of Israel through miracles and blessings - even when they didn’t deserve it. And I take a breath and let this grace overwhelm. How much grace has he given me? How many mistakes did he cover over with his love and mercy?

    And I remember the greatest commandment - love. Just love. That’s all he asks, just love and all else will fall into place. I remember that this is what I’m really living for. It’s not justice. It’s love. And as I realize that everything else is miniscule in relation to this divine and wonderful calling to love and to give grace in abundance. It’s when you allow this love and grace to dwell in your spirit that you can see the problems in this life in the light that God sees them.

    The mistakes of others against you are the hardest to meet with grace. Harder still when the offender is unaware or unbending in their faults. This is the time to be still. This is the time to put Christ on the throne by loving him and loving that person. When I come face to face with my own mistakes - ones I’ve had in the past, ones I struggle with now, and ones I know I am unaware of - I am overwhelmed by this amazing grace. All that is left to do is simply to realize that others are on the same journey as you are, and they fall and stumble over the rocky path just like you do.

    I am an incredibly clumsy person at times. I’m always hitting my head, amazingly I don’t have tons of concussions, and continue to hope that one of these days I’ll knock in some sense instead of out. I trip and stumble. It’s a brilliant picture of life. I stumble and fall all the time. I’m honestly a bit of a mess. But I look up, and all I see is grace. And my heart stops racing, and I’m still.

    As I consider the pain, rejection, injustices, and cruelties we experience it makes me want to go out and fix it. To go out swinging and fighting for what I believe in. But those feelings only last until I remember the road we’re all on, the fight we’re all fighting, and the grace we’re all breathing. Looking up into the eyes of love and grace, the fight goes out of me and my desire changes. It becomes like his.

        Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing (1 Thessalonians 5:11)    

When love rules you, when grace is all you see, when you truly understand how God picks you up each day - that is when you start seeing others mistakes and failings as them stumbling and all that is left is to reach out and help them back up.

    Loving others and giving them loads of grace - that is just a part of discovering true grace and love. And when your heart gets to experience that for just a moment - you are that much closer to feeling the love and grace of God. For just a moment - be still.