Fear, Love, and Forsakenness

Since the end of January, I have been leading a women's bible study within my church. The series we are doing is on the heart, and I am writing the material for it. Really all that means is that I am using a concordance software on my computer to do a word study of every verse I can find on the heart (there are a lot, go figure) and connecting them with each other. It is, by no means, an exhaustive study--that would take lifetimes. And I am most definitely not a biblical scholar. I'm sure there are countless flaws in my methods of study, but I'm approaching it as a seeker of the Word and asking the Spirit for wisdom and guidance as I search and study. And honestly, I've come to realize it as a treasure hunt, because what I have found has astounded me.

Typically what I do is look up each significant word in a verse or passage and see what sort of discoveries are buried within the root words that aren't seen on the surface in the English translation. This past Sunday as I sat down to do some finishing touches on formatting before we met for our study, I decided to do a couple more searches in one area... and I was blown away by what I found. It was so monumental to me that I couldn't keep it to myself.

The lesson was a continuation from a two-part lesson on "What does it mean to love?" The first part was an overview of 1 Corinthians 13--the infamous passage on love. I had so many amazing discoveries in that as well. But this one was a little different. After a few verses in 1 John 3 we moved on to 1 John 4:18-19:

“There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear. For fear has to do with punishment, and whoever fears has not been perfected in love. We love because He first loved us.”

The original Greek word for "casts out" is ballō which literally means "to throw (more or less violent or intense)." The implication is aggressiveness. There is something fierce about love casting out fear. There is an intensity behind it that is full of power. So we know that perfect (which literally means "complete") love throws all fear out of the way. This is great news, obviously, because fear tends to really get in our way a lot of the time, right? So I'm glad to know that the perfect love of God can cast out that fear. But the next part of the verse is what did me in....

"For fear has to do with punishment..."

As I was looking over everything at the end I just flippantly decided to look up other occurrences of the word "punishment" in the concordance. I figured, okay, if fear has to do with punishment maybe it would be good to see where else the word shows up so as to have some more insight into the deeper meanings behind this verse.

The Greek word kolasis, which means "infliction: - punishment, torment" only occurs one other time in the New Testament-- Matthew 25:46:

“Then they will go away into everlasting punishment, but the righteous to eternal life.”

The only other occurrence of this word speaks specifically to the punishment of eternal separation from God. For fear has to do with eternal separation... Fear is directly related to the absence of God in our lives. Fear has to do with punishment. Fear has to do with torment. Fear has to do with being separated from our only hope. Fear is a feeling that whispers to us, "God is not there with you through this. He has left. You are alone." As Ann Voskamp put it in her book, One Thousand Gifts, "All fear is but the notion that God's love ends." Fear strikes us down deep into our very existence and causes us to question God's love. Because fear is not an aspect of love.

There is no fear in love.

Fear has to do with punishment.

And whoever fears has not been perfected in love.

When we let fear take hold of us, it is because we have not allowed Love to have its way with us.

The wholeness, the completeness, and the perfection of love is what casts out fear. And those who fear have not been made whole, and complete, and perfect through that love because the fear is what has consumed them, not the love.

"...but perfect love casts out fear."

Sin had left us eternally separated from God and forever without a chance at being with Him. Fear--punishment, torment, separation, darkness--had to be conquered by love so that we could get to Him. So that He could come to us. Fear was cast out when Christ went to the cross.

Because when He walked the road of Calvary He forever cast out the power of fear--the power of eternal separation. There are several other words for punishment and torment in the Greek. There is no mistake that this particular word only shows up twice. Fear has to do with being eternally separated from God. What emotion could possibly be worse than this? When we feel fearful, we are experiencing an emotion that a Christ follower should never have to experience. Because as a child of God, I will never... not ever... not even one time will I ever experience separation from God. In Christ, no matter how terrible my suffering may be, I can never be forsaken by Him. Fear says I am forsaken. Fear is a lie. When we are in Christ... fear is a lie.

But fear wasn't always a lie.

Before Christ went to the cross, fear was legitimate. Fear signified my sin separating me from the holy God of the universe, untouchable by sin. But when Jesus bore the weight of the cross, once and for all He cast out fear, and death, and separation.

Fear says I am forsaken. The only reason that fear is a lie is because another has been forsaken instead of me.

Fear has to do with forsakenness.

Fear represents separation from God, but not even fear could keep Christ from going to the cross. As if being nailed to two pieces of wood after having His body beaten and marred beyond all recognition only to have His Father lay on Him the weight of the sin of the entire human race was not enough anguish and suffering... then--horror of all unfathomable horrors--on top of everything else, His Father turns away from Him.

"My God, My God, why have You forsaken Me?"

These are words you and I will never utter in truth. We may ask this question in emotion, but it will never represent the truth for us.

The cry of these words from the cross of Calvary represented the one and only true time that any person on this earth has ever known utterly and completely true forsakenness.

So that you wouldn't have to, He was forsaken in your place. God chose to forsake His Son so that He would not have to forsake you. There is no fear in love because God is love, and in Christ, we can never be separated from Him because Someone else already bore that separation, that forsakenness.

If fear represents the eternal separation from God, then love represents the eternal communion with God.

Love triumphed over fear that day, and is whereby triumphing over it every day. You see, the verse says perfect love casts out fear, it does not say perfect love cast out fear. The difference is the tense. And while I'm no biblical scholar and could most definitely be getting this wrong... the tense seems to matter.

To say that perfect love casts out fear is to say that this is an ongoing process. Jesus conquered the power of death, the power of separation, when He went to the cross. But the reality of separation from God is not over for those who do not yet know Him. So to say that perfect love casts out fear means that every day is a new day for someone to walk straight into the arms of his God for the first time and to have all reality of separation cast out forever. Perfect love casts out separation. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. Until He returns.

"We love because He first loved us."

The only way you and I can boldly, fiercely, and vulnerably love with abandon is because of this very last phrase. I don't know about you, but one of my biggest fears is rejection. As much as I dreadfully wish against it, I have an underlying terrified fear that my offering of love will be slapped back in my face. So I give in to fear, and I withhold my love. But this... this hope-filling, life-giving phrase shouts to us that we have been given all power to love this world without any regard for a response.... because He loved us first. He's not asking you to take the risk at loving a harsh world that will stomp on your love-- no. There is no true risk here. We are not loving out of our debt, we are loving out of our abundant, overflowing fountain of everlasting, true love. We have the full ability to love because He has already filled up every space and every need we will ever have to be fully loved, fully received, and fully fulfilled by His love.

And yet I still fear.

This verse is ongoing for all of us, because we are still subjected to this lie. Whoever fears has not been perfected in love. This means that my fear is the indication that I have not allowed Love to have His way. To choose Love is to choose Him and to reject the deception of the lie of fear that I am abandoned and separated from my source of life. 

One of the most infamous verses in the bible on love is found in 1 Corinthians 13:8--

"Love never fails."

When we did the first part of this study it was a rough road going through the first part of chapter 13 of Corinthians because honestly, love is made up of some pretty difficult stuff. There is a lot of endurance, longsuffering, patience, and perseverance involved. And that stuff hurts. But at the end of the long list of characteristics there is a beautiful reminder between the lines-- "hey, this list is hard and painful and difficult but guess what... Love never fails." The word for fails in the Greek is ekpiptō: "to drop away; specifically be driven out of one’s course, to lose, become inefficient: - be cast."

Love never drops away. Love can never be driven out of its course. Love never loses. Love never becomes inefficient. Love is never cast out. Love always wins. Love never fails. Love never ends. Therefore, we can never love in vain. Because love can't ever fail. So love will never not be worth it.

Fear says that Love fails.

Fear says that love ends.

Fear is a lie. Forsakenness is a lie.

Perfect love casts out fear. Fear can never cast out love. For love never fails.

How would our lives look differently if we truly believed that fear is a lie, and Love never fails?

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.”
2 Timothy 1:7

The Experience of Praise

It is quite common to suddenly "come to" in the middle of life and wonder where the time has gone. Sometimes a large chunk of time has passed without any real difference taking place overall. Months can pass by, and even years, and when that moment arrives we often wonder if, or when, something may change.

Inevitably, after the long season of sameness there will be a period of time where everything seems to shift, and sometimes the days will be packed fuller of life than previous months combined. I'm not talking about busyness. Activity does not equal progress. A rocking chair can produce a lot of movement but it usually stays in the exact same place at all times. I'm talking about those usually unexpected moments in time when something shifts and growth and discovery begin to pour in like running water. Sometimes those discoveries are unwanted. Sometimes that growth is wrecked with pain and jagged edges and seems like it's leading us straight into our death rather than anywhere near new life. And sometimes... that's exactly what it's doing, and what it was meant to do.

The last seven days have held more of this growth and discovery in my life than the previous four months combined. I set out on, for lack of a better phrase, a spiritual retreat in which I spent three days with literally no one but God. Contact with the outside world was temporarily deactivated and for 72 hours I closed myself up in a room and came out only for the bathroom (and also to put out a small fire, but hey, the house going up in flames is sort of an understood reason to momentarily leave the confines of my small space in order to be the hero... of the fire that I started... anyone see that episode of Boy Meets World? ok back on topic...) Contrary to rumors of insanity or psychosis when being in solitary confinement for three days in the 21st century, this was actually not very difficult, and was most definitely not boring. I didn't set out with an itinerary of how I would fill each minute, but I fell into a schedule after the first day that made me realize how little control I actually had over this time and how much I was really only responding to the One I was with.

Now the last thing I'm out to do in writing this blog is to make myself out to be this over-spiritual "humble" Christian who is willing to do what "no one else" is in order to be "holy"--extremely necessary quotation marks. I did not set out to do this with this blog post in mind. I set out to do this because I knew I was being invited into something and the honest truth is that I could not say no, I could not resist.

We all know what it's like to be going one way for a while when all of a sudden you realize that something's gotta give. This goes or I go. Either way, I'm not moving forward until something changes. And that's where I was. And last Sunday I knew this was next for me.

So Monday morning I turned off my phone and the internet and literally shut the door to the outside world. I don't consider myself "addicted" to technology. I don't mind going a decent amount of time off facebook and I certainly am familiar with the relaxation that can sometimes accompany the dying of a cell phone when away from its charger. Sometimes you just need peace. But I can readily admit that I felt like a smoker reaching for my cigarettes. The first day, every few hours a slight feeling would come over to me to reach for a device. Something that connected me to everything else out there. The thought wasn't conscious, I just felt this need rise up and then reality would surface, "oh right, I don't have that right now." The instinctual dependence that we have come to have upon connection within the ever-advancing age of technology really does battle with our connection with the Maker of the universe, whether we have an addiction to it or not.

I'm not going to sit here and say that I arrived at a higher plane of spirituality, nor was it the equivalent to Moses on Mt. Sinai face to face with God after which his face literally glowed. However, I will say that three straight days alone with nothing but my face in the Word of God, my knees on the floor, and my hands in the air translates to an experience with the Lord that transcends all knowledge about Him in a Sunday morning sermon. When I say "experience" I don't mean "sensation." I did not "feel" God in the room the way I felt that fire burn the tip of my index finger before I dropped it on the hallway floor. But it was not about the feelings or the sensations of each moment. By the second day I was realizing that it was about the succession of moments, the symphony being played out altogether, note by note, prayer by prayer, praise by praise. I was knowing Christ in the intimacy of relationship, and it was not all smiles and warm fuzzies. Some of my most powerful moments of praise and worship to Him in which He felt the nearest to me immediately led me straight into a sobbing session where I literally cried out to Him in anger and confusion and searing pain over life's circumstances that still overwhelm. My times of worship which held waves and floods of soul satisfaction in the truth of who He is to me were sometimes followed by lamenting over the curse of the flesh and the longings that still wage war against me, vying for my life. I'd like to say that I'm being dramatic or exaggerating some of these emotions, but I'm afraid I can't. With all my heart I sang to the Lord and plunged myself into the truth of His promises, only to lash out at Him for leaving me in my pain and feeling so abandoned by Him, then yet again proclaiming His identity and truth over my feelings, and then again sobbing out my hopelessness at His feet, feeling out the fullness of each emotion in each heartbeat. The two opposites can somehow coexist, and somehow it's ok because I just grit my teeth and He just holds the pain and I keep breathing and He keeps revealing, even if the throb is ever-present. Even in those moments where He seemed closer than I've ever experienced, a fleeting doubt could cross my mind asking if all this was even real.... does He even exist? Is He listening? Somehow the absolute truth can coexist with the presence of a lie. But I am commanded to take every thought captive to the obedience of Christ, and it is up to me what I choose to believe in those moments resulting in what seed will be sown in my mind in that moment, and that is all life is made up of--the sown seeds of each moment as they come to us. Every moment I sow a seed with whatever I give my attention to. The mindless distractions that we think are just meant for unwinding at the end of a long day... they are sown seeds. That TV show, that music, that youtube video, that thirty-seventh game of solitaire.... seeds sown. Are they terrible? They don't have to be. But when you spend three full days emptying and filling yourself--your mind, your thoughts, your heart--with the Living Word of God and giving Him praise, you realize all the empty seeds you've sown. No, I am not anti-technology, nor will I judge you if you play that thirty-eighth game of solitaire. But I might be a little sad for you. Not in a pitiful kind of way. But because I've known what it's like to spend hours "relaxing" with Words With Friends and SongPop at my fingertips, and now I've known what it's like to spend hours, days, receiving true rest in Christ.

Does all of this sound bipolar? A little messier than what we've preconceived in our minds a relationship with God should look like? All withstanding relationships are messy. The gospel is messy. Life is messy. Joy and sorrow. Laughter and tears. And everything in between.

If I were to sum up the crux of this experience into one lesson it would be this-- no matter the weight or the magnitude or the enormity of what faces me in this life... I must praise Him. I learned through this time, not by information but by experience, that this is not simply a command to obey... I must praise Him in order to attain any sense of true joy. In order to be happy. In order to bear up under the weight of life's most searing pain, I will not be sustained unless I give Him praise. For that is where all is set right. That is where truth overcomes and overwhelms the lies from the pit that are strangling abundant life out of us. I wrote this in my journal at the end of the first day:

Even if I sat in silence with a humble and reverent heart and never heard a word from the Lord, my offering of hope and expectation would not be in vain. I cannot come to Him in demand that He meet all my needs for the sake of my comfort--all is to be, first and foremost, for the sake of His glory and His holiness. It is not wasteful to offer up all of me to Him simply for the reason that He deserves it, He is Lord, I am not. To give myself over to Him is in itself--worship and glorification. He is not obligated beyond the point of receiving my offering. For it is simply in the giving of it that I can rest at ease. He wants nothing more from me. And after that, I have done what was worth it.

In my moments of purest and most sincere praise, I am doing what I was made to do at the most basic foundation of human existence--worship, giving Him glory. This is not something that will fully register with you simply by reading these words. We've all heard this before. But hear me in this: this is something that will not make complete sense until you have put it into action.

It's all about His praise. It's all about His glory. Give Him praise... and you will find the only true form of relief, comfort, and rest.

Through Jesus, therefore, let us continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise--the fruit of lips that confess His name. --Hebrews 13:15

The Paradox of Death

There is something intriguing about paradoxes. They don't make sense at first, but most of us enjoy the attempt to analyze them and see how the puzzle pieces fit together. Many of the paradoxes introduced by Jesus in Scripture are not only mysterious but are downright confusing. How is it that the last shall be first? Why must you lose your life in order to find it? When did nature start to turn on itself?

Perhaps the most defining of paradoxes we see is the notion that death leads to life; the old becomes new. As a fellow human being having walked the planet for 24 years I can very well attest to the fact that life leads to death. The new eventually turns to old and what is alive eventually dies. The idea of death leading to life and the old becoming new have strong implications for the faith, and they go against the very fabric of our human nature.

"Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!"
2 Corinthians 5:17

"But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions." Ephesians 2:4-5

"You were taught with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, created to be like God in true righteousness and holiness." Ephesians 4:22-24

"For you died, and your life is now hidden in Christ with God." Colossians 3:3

"I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me. The life I live in the body, I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me." Galatians 2:20

In every area of Scripture that these notions are mentioned there is a formula given explaining how life is attained and how death will be the default if life does not purposely prevail over it. In each of these verses it is very apparent that Christ brings life while the self brings death. In our natural state we are already dead. But Christ offers life even in the midst of that death. This is truly dumbfounding. We all know that once something dies, it is dead. Almost never at a funeral will someone look into the casket with anticipation that the loved one will suddenly open their eyes and rise up again. There is a resignation that comes with death--we understand its finality. As Christians we know we have an eternal hope, but as human beings on planet Earth even this eternal hope does not remove the overwhelming grief and sadness brought on by death. Why is that? Shouldn't we be rejoicing when a believer is taken to Heaven? Parts of us do, but in an overwhelming sense we are held captive by the searing pain of loss.

"He has also set eternity in the hearts of men; yet they cannot fathom what God has done from beginning to end." Ecclesiastes 3:11

Here is the bottom line--even in our acceptance that death is a part of life, we know deep down in the core of who we are that death was never meant to be. We were made with eternity written upon our hearts. Life was always supposed to triumph. Everything within us, even our most sinful places, resists the sting of death and is devastated by it. We are wired to be drawn towards life and to be repelled by death. And yet death is what is asked of us. If we are to grasp the abundant eternal life offered to us, death is first required, and not just physical death.

Throughout the course of a lifetime a person will die many deaths. There is the initial spiritual death we die when we enter into sin and there is the final death within the flesh that leads to eternity. However, there are many commands to actively die and put to death the flesh. Because of the natural response to death, these are not easy to accept. Death brings loss, pain, heartache, withdrawal, even denial. There is often a ripping and tearing away at the heart that can sometimes even feel physical. But there is always an exposition for why the death is necessary. "...if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live." Romans 8:13-- If, then.

Over and over and over again these paradoxes flood the Scriptures, paving the way toward True Life. The Life that is only reached through Death.

"What you sow does not come to life unless it dies." 1 Corinthians 15:36

Nothing about this can be easily received with the limited, fallen, human brain in each of our heads. There is no rationalization behind it. It calls for a divine humility of trust at the feet of Jesus that our understanding is not to be compared with His. "Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding" Proverbs 3:5; "'For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,' declares the Lord." Isaiah 55:8

Moving beyond the perplexity of it all and accepting that our finite minds will never grasp this concept in full, it becomes clearer as we choose to trust that each death we die has a reason, a purpose:

"I tell you the truth, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it while the man who hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life." John 12:24-25

In the same way that a single living seed can only remain singular, resisting these necessary deaths will only limit us in the hands of God. "But IF it dies, it produces many seeds." The very act of death ushers in new life; a newness that could never have been found otherwise. A life that is incomparable to the life before that death.

Sometimes this newness of life is a brand new life than the former. Sometimes it is a resurrection of that life, more glorious and beautiful than before. This picture is very clearly painted with the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. Even Christ Himself died a death that was utterly crucial for true Life to ever be an option for us. He is our ultimate example of the death that must be allowed to die in order for the fullness of life to be a flourishing resurrected reality--involving both the death at spiritual conversion as well as the deaths to sin and the flesh that confront us in the midst of our daily lives that we so often resist and avoid. Whatever His choosing--resurrection or a brand new different giving of life--we will always be more satisfied in the newness of life He brings from that death. For He is that Life.

"...so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life." 1 Timothy 6:19
"Jesus answered, 'I am the way and the truth and the life....'" John 14:6

I have yet to face a challenge more daunting than this--to seek the Life that is truly life; to seek the face of God in the midst of my deaths. And to know that no matter the pain of those losses, the gain will always prevail over that loss. This is where the rubber meets the road. This is where the proof exists and we can know who we really serve--ourselves or our Lord Jesus Christ.

"For Christ's love compels us, because we are convinced that One died for all, and therefore all died.  And He died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for Him who died for them and was raised again." 2 Corinthians 5:14-15

No matter to what degree we are asked to die deaths upon this earth, we can place our hope and security in the One who will one day kill Death himself, once and for all.

"Death has been swallowed up in victory... thanks be to God! He gives us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ." 1 Corinthians 15:54,57

"And God will wipe away every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away. Then He who was seated on the throne said 'Behold, I make all things new.'" Revelation 21:4-5

He does not leave us as we are. O Lord, we praise You!

Wildflower #2--My Mother

So as you can see, my hopes for becoming a regular blogger have not exactly held up. But here I am to continue with another Wildflower in my life--my Mother.

Imagine a woman with a gentle and quiet spirit, and very little tendencies to control or freak out easily. Imagine her in her fairly laid-back state getting married and proceeding to start a family. Now imagine that she has three children with semi regular personalities and dispositions. She is comfortable in her role as wife and mother, and she is happy. Imagine one day this wife and mother finds out she is to have a fourth child. This news, completely unexpected, somewhat takes her aback, but she pushes through her nervousness and anticipates the arrival of another addition to the family. Now imagine the inconceivable way that this mother's life was turned upside down from the day that fourth child arrived. She was nothing like the former children and necessitated seemingly brand new parenting styles in order to keep under control. 23 years later, I am here to attest to the good news that this fourth child was not put out of the house (barely) nor did she cause any untimely deaths or lost limbs (we hope). And here she is... but only because the womb that she first thrived in belonged to a mother different than most.

My mother and I are very different. Fortunately, it has helped us get along over the years much better than the average mother and daughter. But it's not always been smiles, giggles, and rainbows. Because of my strong-willed nature and extreme determination to push the limits, the challenges I brought to both of my parents were significantly different than my siblings. It has not been until recent years that I've been able to look on my mother with the perspective of an adult and see and understand at least a glimpse of all she went through being the mother of five. Contrary to my thoughtless assumption growing up, my mother is not invincible, nor is she unable to be hurt. She is soft, and tender. And I have finally been able to begin to appreciate the burden she bore for us all our lives and still continues to bear as the mother bird watching her little birdies turn into bigger birdies and flap their wings across the abyss of life the Lord has chosen for them. As she turns from child to child and gazes upon their young adult lives, she continues her post as prayer warrior and still has an occasional worry over how they are fairing away from the nest.

Last week my mom emailed me about something I got in the mail she thought I'd be interested in, and signed off with the usual "Love you!" after a few extra remarks. I was slightly distracted when I read it in the evening and ended up going to bed without replying. The next morning I found myself at work when I received a text from her. "How are you doing today? Did you get my email about the mail? Just wondering and a tad worried about you since I hadn't heard from you. :)" That smiley was fooling no one. It was a busy morning so I couldn't respond right away. She didn't waste any time and 32 minutes later in my work email I received this: "Is your phone working? ...sorry just being a mom right now." The email included two more smileys. I wrote back with something to the effect of "uh yeah... you are being a mom!" :) She's not typically like that so it was laughable to see her get a little worked up after not hearing back from me in only about a 12 hour time frame.

This summer has been more difficult than I expected. I am typically just fine on my own and away from people, but it has taken more of a toll on me than I thought it would. The thankfulness and heart of gratitude I have towards my mother for her intense care and affection for me is not lost in the kidding I may do about her tendency to over-worry sometimes. So many others have no mother to worry about them. So many have not been close with her or have only been manipulated by her to the point that they never experienced a truly loving mother's touch and sentiment, physically or verbally. And sadly those who fall into this category probably do not know they are missing out on such a poignant and piercing aspect of God's design for a family.

For my mother I owe my desire to be gentle and affectionate for those I may take care of. I imagine my future as a mother and I long to learn the ways my mother held and comforted me so I may do the same for my children. There is something very emotional about a mother's love. To be 23 years old and many years past the last time I was held, the depth of the impact of that affection can still bring tears to my eyes.

Life is unimaginable without her present and active in my life. Thank you, Momma, for showing me a healthy life and raising me to follow in your footsteps toward what the Lord designed for a mother to be. May I never take you for granted. You are irreplaceable.

Meet... My Father

What better way to start off this blog series than with the most influential man in my life, Mark Cox. And on the most appropriate day of the year: Father's Day.

Who is this man? To most he's a pastor, a preacher, and a teacher. To some he's a friend. To a few he's a son, a brother, and a grandfather. But to me he's a father. A good father. Me and my dad are extremely similar. Growing up I always hated when people would tell me I looked like him. Both of my sisters look like twins and they are mini-me's of my mother. I got my dad's genes. I always wished I fit in with the girls in the family but I fit in better with the boys. I don't mind it much now, but I hated it growing up. A few things we have in common are our sense of humor, our competitive nature, our tendency to analyze everything, our love for reading, and our passion for learning. Some of the best times I can remember with my dad growing up have been the intense theological conversations that have gone on for hours and hours. I love asking him questions and dissecting and analyzing and mulling things over with him. The passion that I've grown to have for spiritual things and yearning after the Lord I know I owe to him. He has a strong heart and a stable mind. His marriage to my mother has been an irreplaceable foundational security and stability in my life. I long to marry a man with a heart like my father's.

I have found that the majority of girls I have come to know in my twenty-three years have mentioned that they have always been closer, or at least gotten along better with their dad than their mom. Oftentimes the dad is the softy and the mom is the strict disciplinarian, causing the girls to butt heads with their moms and run to Daddy for comfort. However, this has never been the case in my house. The disciplinarian is my father. If we ever really wanted something you never ask Daddy first, you ask Momma. Because then when you get the "I don't care if Daddy doesn't care" it was extra ammo when presenting the weapon of argument to Daddy... "Oh and Momma said she didn't care if you don't!" ...not sure if it ever actually worked but I liked to think it did.

As a Christian and a psych major, I've grown up knowing that the most important figure in a child's life, boy or girl, is their father. I've always found that interesting. The mother carries the child, births the child, and typically does most of the caretaking with the children, but somehow the father's role is the most crucial.

I'm not going to lie and act like my dad and I have always had the greatest relationship, because in all honesty.... it's been really hard. Between the ages of 14 and 20 I would have told you ingesting kitty litter would have been more preferable to having important conversations with my dad (and my mom), and now looking back, I have to say I'm surprised they put up with as much as they did from me. To put it plainly, my teenage years sucked. Big time. For me and for my parents who had to deal with me. There have been many choices I've made in my life that have only constructed wall after wall after wall between me and my parents, but always most especially my father. The man who has loved me so unconditionally and has never withheld his love for a moment was continually pushed away by me. The further I dug myself in holes I was in the more isolated I became and the harder it was to receive any kind of love, particularly the love of a father. The past three years I have been trying to undo the damage I caused over a six to seven year period and I find it still to be a challenge to this day. Why? When so many of my friends are without fathers or with lousy fathers who don't take their role seriously, why would I ever push away one of the greatest father figures this world could contain?

I can't speak for anyone else, I only know my own life and that much I sometimes don't even know. But in my experience, when you have continued to mess up and continued to fall on your face over and over again, it becomes extremely hard to accept and believe that you are lovable. It is something I've had to choose to believe every day and allow the Lord to begin mending and healing in my heart so that I may choose to accept and not to reject goodness. If God, who is my heavenly Father, would choose to love me and to die for me in my sin, why would my own earthly father not also choose to love me and accept me in my sin? This is a lesson I have had to learn. I haven't known many people with my story and with the same familial issues I've had in this area. But this is the essence of my story. It hasn't always been pretty, in fact it's been outright ugly at times. But the love has outweighed the hate, and the light has overcome the dark. And I owe where I am today to a man who decided he would never give up on his daughter.

Happy Father's Day, Daddy. I wish the world could know a love like yours. Thank you. Thank you for representing Christ to me. I love you, because you first loved me.

Wildflowers

In order to get myself into more of the writing groove I decided to write a series of blogs that would require writing on a semi-regular basis to hopefully establish a habit. The purpose of this series is to write about the people, few and uncommon. The wildflowers among the weeds. The lovely among the decent. The splashes of color on life's canvas of dull black and gray. These are the people in my life that have shaped me into who I am today. The people who are still actively investing themselves and pouring into my life so that I may grow and learn and be more teachable and moldable in the hands of the Lord.

Those who know me very well at all know that I am not all about acquiring best friends. It takes a lot to be brought into my inner circle, and if I have spent a substantial amount of time with you or have shown explicit interest in spending time with you, you can take that as a sign that I value our time together, because I think highly of you. I'm not the type to fall all over everyone I meet and tell them how wonderful they are. When I do say it, I really mean it, wholeheartedly. And while I do love all people in a general sense, I save the intensity of my sentiments for those who mean the most.

In my own experience there are three types of people in my life:

1. The acquaintances--the people that I come in contact with on a regular basis but have little to no connection with. Sometimes an acquaintance will have a desire for a more in-depth relationship with me, but I am not a person who "humors" people in this way. If it's not there, it's not there. I won't be rude to you, but I'm not buddy buddy with everyone and if you know me very well, you know this.

2. The mentored--the friends that you and I have, not because of what they contribute to our lives but because of what we know we need to contribute to theirs. Any time I find myself with a friend like this I have always been able to credit the connection to God. I hear a whisper in my ear that goes something like, "it's not going to be easy, but you will serve a purpose in this person's life. They may hurt you, but I am using you. Do not give up and do not turn away." These could be the friends you are discipling, or those who have gone through something traumatic that you've been called to help them through. Sometimes it's messy, but there's always a reward in it.

3. The intentional--the relationships you set out to establish and to maintain. This would include anyone in your life that has value and meaning that goes beyond your initial appreciation for people. These are the people that have invested in you and for whom you show a great amount of fondness and deep sentiment. These are those whose presence calls forth the best in you. They are truthful, honest, open, and authentic with their relationship. These are the friends we all hope to find in this life.

This is a start to a series of blogs on the third type of people. The ones who have taught me the most about this life and who I am becoming. The people who have awakened something within me that I did not know could come alive. These are the ones who have refined me. My beautiful wildflowers. They have shown up unannounced with a profound and furious loveliness unignorable. Springing forth unbeckoned and bearing a beauty, fierce and unyielding. All I am I owe to them.

Get ready to be introduced.

Tangled in a Web of Glory

***WARNING*** SPOILER ALERT: If you have not yet seen Disney’s movie “Tangled” you might want to watch it before reading this. If you don’t mind knowing a few things going in to it, read on at your own discretion.

One of my favorite things to do in life is to find correlations between the trivial and the important. I love finding analogies between the physical and the spiritual world. And I love watching movies and discovering symbolisms in stories that also present an element of truth in my own life or in something I’ve seen in the real world.

When I saw Tangled, I was immediately captivated with the representation of Rapunzel’s hair. If you’re still reading you’ve probably seen the movie but I’ll give a little recap to freshen your minds. Rapunzel, according to www.imdb.com, has hair seventy feet long and a little over ten pounds in weight (that’s one strong neck!) and is prohibited from cutting it because of the “magical qualities that it possesses,” in the words of Flynn Rider. All of her life her hair has had the power to heal wounds and reverse aging effects, which is why her “mother” keeps her captive in a tower and doesn’t allow her to leave.

A ways into the movie Flynn gets a cut on the palm of his hand, and for the first time Rapunzel shows him the extent of what her hair can do. Here’s the clip if you want to watch it:

As Rapunzel sings the healing incantation, the hair begins to glow with a beautiful, magical radiance while wrapped around Flynn’s hand. When she’s finished, the glimmer fades and he unwraps the hair to find his hand completely restored. This scene is filled with mysterious wonder at the enchantment of this young girl’s gleaming long blonde hair. The song is beautifully mesmerizing and you can’t help but get sucked into this magical moment.

Fast forward to the end of the movie. Now, if you’re still reading and you haven’t seen it, this is really going to give a lot away. So be extra forewarned. Here’s a clip for this part as well. Start around 4:15 unless you fancy watching Mother Gothel plunge to her death first:

Flynn has come back to the tower to save Rapunzel. Mother Gothel has stabbed Flynn in the side of his abdomen, and as he takes in his last few breaths in a swift move of heroic fashion he slices Rapunzel’s hair off before she has the chance to heal him. Mother Gothel freaks out then falls out the window to her very, very timely and overdue death (she was probably half a millennium old by then). Flynn and Rapunzel share a moment before Flynn breathes his last. Holding him in her arms, Rapunzel softly sings the healing incantation and a tear falls from her eye, landing on Flynn’s cheek.

Here’s where it matters.

The tear seeps into his cheek and a tiny spark of light glimmers for a second. It lights up again into a sort of flower shape and then travels down to his side. Beams of light suddenly begin flowing out of Flynn’s gaping wound and in a display of brilliance and splendor it courses through the tower, filling empty spaces and flashing across the room up, down, and around them both. Rapunzel is in awe of what she sees. The beauty being poured out of the broken flesh in Flynn’s side is astounding. The scene is truly breathtaking.

The healing of Flynn’s hand was extraordinary and captivating. It was beautiful. It really was. But it was small. There wasn’t much to it. The song was sung, the hair lit up, and a small laceration was restored. No doubt the power of Rapunzel’s hair was experienced in that moment, but comparatively speaking, it was minimal. When the tear fell and an explosion of light burst forth surrounding Flynn and Rapunzel in brilliance and wonder and beauty, there is no doubt this was more glorious than the first. A knife wound to the abdomen brought more glory than a slight cut on the palm of a hand.

So what’s the big deal?

Christ is most glorified when we allow Him to shine forth out of the most broken and shattered places in our lives. Those awful hidden places in our hearts that we’ve buried deep down inside and want never to see the light of day… those are our knife wounds that He is longing to saturate with his healing touch, to claim victory over and to set up a fireworks display within and pour out the glory of His healing power. So often we just bring Him the little hand wounds, let Him wrap them in His proverbial hair, breathe a sigh of relief at the momentary glint of light, and then go on our merry way. But how many of us have been stabbed so deeply by life, whether self-inflicted by sin or circumstances out of our control, and we’re walking around with gaping wounds desperately needing His attention, but we refuse to come to Him. Why? If we try to handle it separately from the Lord, just like Flynn we will lie on the floor in that tower and slowly bleed to death. Maybe not a physical one but a spiritual one. How often we forget that He doesn’t just long to heal us for our benefit. He gets the glory! Your darkest and most deathly area of separation from Him could be the most beautiful and bring the most glory to God, our Savior and Redeemer.

“But He said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 2:9-10

We should be glad to bring Him our brokenness. God is glorified in our pain when we choose to bring it to Him. Not only does He promise healing and restoration but He promises Himself. He is the essence of Beauty and all Glory that could ever be manifested in you.

Let Him have your broken pieces.

Clinging and Clutching

After cleaning out my car a few days ago I began walking back to the house when a strange sensation came over me. I suddenly became very aware that my hands were empty. Such an odd feeling, both hands swinging by my sides with wind wafting between my fingers. What was I expecting exactly? I suppose my car keys in the moment, or my cell phone. But the moment of realization was glaring, as if to say, "look here, take note of this sensation." It shouldn't be abnormal to have empty hands. Should it? (Of course situationally one might argue I should have had my car keys since I had just been in my car, but this is not the point! Debaters, sit down.)

It is the day and age of technology. Everywhere we go there are gadgets in people's hands, held to the ears, captivating the eyes at attention. And if it's not a technological device, it's a purse, or a bag, isn't it? The last time I can remember sitting in one place having nothing to capture my attention was never. And it's not just that we're used to it, it feels awkward without anything. The idea of waiting for a table at a restaurant or to board an airplane might not readily spark a concern, but if the moment comes and there's nothing to occupy my thoughts and focus, it's awkward isn't it?

So what does it all mean?

There's a Tenth Avenue North song that I love called "Empty My Hands."

Empty my hands

Fill up my heart

Capture my mind with You

To put it simply--I need to walk with empty hands. I need to be content in a sedentary position without something to read, or to text, or to play, or to simply look occupied. This isn't merely about physicality. Why is it strange to walk twenty steps from the car on the street to the front door with empty hands? I feel naked. I find myself grasping at the air, looking for something to clutch, to cling to.

And yet I have been asked to empty my hands. The two most hated words my ears could hear for the past eight years would be "let go."

I don't want to let go. Ever. I am a clinger to what I grow to love most and that old familiar gut-wrenching pit-of-my-stomach feeling tends to rise up at the sound of those two words.

Let go.

In a world where virtually all things are relatively within our grasp, it's hard to say no, first of all. Second of all it's incredibly harder to let go once you've started holding on. Sign me up as the poster child of this concept.

When we come to a resting place on this journey of life, our tendency is to pull out the cell phone and play a game while we wait. Something to occupy the attention span until life begins moving again. But I don't want just any attention-holder.

"Be still, and know that I am God." Psalm 40:10

He has called me to be still... and to know. This means I must drop whatever is in my hands and walk more swiftly towards the One who deserves my undivided attention, focus, and devotion. Walking with empty hands shouldn't feel weird or awkward. It should feel free, and liberating. Without the distractions I habitually return to, I am free to look only to Him, following hard towards whatever He places in front of me to grasp onto. Never clinging to any but Him, but accepting the cup He presents before me on a daily basis.

Capture my mind with You, Lord. I empty my hands before You.

"Let us lay aside every weight, and the sin that so easily ensnares us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking unto Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith." Hebrews 12:1-2

SB '11

I'm really afraid this post will not even come close to conveying what actually happened during my spring break this year, but I hope somehow my words can formulate a little of all that was experienced.

The past several years I have spent spring break at home and working all the extra hours left to me by everyone else having a real spring break. This year I had wanted to do something special since it's my senior year and my last spring break as an undergrad. A couple of my friends and I had discussed a possible roadtrip to New York, or maybe a camping trip, and of course there is always that ever elusive longing to spend a spring break in Florida. But in the end we just went to my house in Indiana. I knew it would be fun because I was bringing some crazy, fun, and hilarious people home with me, but I definitely had no idea exactly what awaited us as I got in the car to drive nine hours through the night with my two wonderful friends Justeen and Rachel.

I've always considered myself a deep thinker. One who enjoys bending reality in a way that provokes philosophical thought and pondering. I love to marvel over the simple things and make a big deal about what is so easily taken for granted by all of humanity. I was afraid I was going to struggle at the wheel during the drive since we left at 10pm, but I have never been more energetic on a drive home before. Almost every sentence out of our mouths began with either "Isn't it weird how..." or "Have you guys ever thought of..." and the typical response to whatever it was would be something like "whoa... that's awesome" or "man... God is really amazing." And before we knew it, God had snuck up on us. From one thing to the next, everything we talked about somehow seemed to point back to how incredible our God is and how much we will never grasp or understand about His being. That ride home goes down as one of the greatest conversations I've ever had.

We didn't know it at the time, but this was causing an unexpected shift inside each of our hearts. Instead of sleeping non-stop and watching movies all day, we discovered a new dynamic in our conversations and we were suddenly thirsty to know more about the Lord. We asked each other question after question... not really looking for actual answers but allowing our minds to be stretched and our hearts to be cracked open... just enough to let Him breathe a fresh breath inside of us and stir up the passions and longings we'd allowed to become dormant for so long. I can't really describe what was happening. But whatever it was... we definitely were not looking for it.

We spent time with my parents. Justeen asked them so many meaningful questions every chance she got and I probably learned more about my family than I'd ever tried to know before. We laughed until we couldn't breathe. We stayed up until all hours of the night. But we didn't do any of the things we thought we would. And so many more things we never expected we'd want to do.

Without really meaning to, we ended up praying together every night before going to bed. Each night the prayers got longer and more intensely powerful. We began pouring things out in front of each other that each of us individually probably hadn't prayed by ourselves in a very long time, if at all. We went through names and names of people we longed to see come to Christ. We prayed for each other and for our relationships and for God to make use of us in our seemingly small lives. After we'd finish praying there was always this extra strong bond felt between us. Like we'd just fought a battle side by side. We began talking about things we could do to make an impact over our break instead of being lazy and unproductive. We made dinner for a family in our church and were told very specifically that we had been an answer to prayer. There's nothing quite like hearing someone say that you were the one God had in mind to use when that person prayed for something.

If I tried to explain every moment we experienced over this break it would take hours and hours of writing and hours and hours for you to read. The basic reality is that God showed up in a big way in our hearts this spring break. And the most amazing part about it is that we weren't even looking for Him. He just decided to show up and give us a good shaking up like only He can do.

One of my greatest prayers during the week was that He would instill within me a desire for Him that goes beyond any emotion. I didn't want that break to simply be a spiritual high of sorts and to come back to school and forget all about it. It transformed a lot of how I pray and how much time I spend in the Word. As crazy as this may sound, it is almost April and I am three days ahead in my Bible reading plan. Typically I am way behind at this point but I have been excited to get into it and really search out the Scriptures. Since we've been back Justeen has not stopped asking me to tell her Bible stories. It's been so amazing discussing the random stories of the Bible with my friends and just letting it soak inside us while we read and talk about it.

There was a reason for why God chose to invade our spring break like He did. I don't want it to be in vain and even when the emotion and feeling has died away I want to continue cultivating a deeper relationship with Christ and also with the incredible friends He has blessed me with.

Neither Florida nor New York could have compared to spring break 2011 in Plainfield, Indiana.

Stretching Myself

I'm feeling the pressure.

Both of my best friends just started blogs and are blowing them up with posts. I've made myself a challenge to match each post of theirs with one of my own. Doubtful it'll actually happen but I'll make an attempt.

I've been making a list of things I've decided to call weeklies. It's this idea I've come up with where I have a goal for each week to do something I wouldn't normally do for the entire week. This week's weekly is to pray only praises to God and not ask for a single thing. The only prayer I can pray beyond merely praising and thanking God for all that He is and does for me is to ask that His will be done. Even today I've been really tempted to ask for things, but instead I just simply say, "Lord, I want Your will. Let it be as You would have it." It's pretty hard to not ask for anything, but I woke up this morning and praises just started rolling across my mind. "God, You are so amazing to me. You provided me a wonderful place to live, You put food in my cabinets, You give me money to buy things that I usually can do just fine without, You gave me amazing friends, and You give me a second and third and fourth chance every day to follow and pursue after You." He is so merciful. I'm hoping this week's weekly will help me center myself on the Lord and reignite a reverence for Him that I've been lacking.

Who am I to ask things of the Creator of the universe? Who am I?

Of course He does want me to ask for things, which is why this is only a week long thing. But I know it's good for me to take the focus off myself for a while.

I'm kind of excited about this list. And what God is wanting to show me by doing all this.

As much as I hate to even type these words-- It's good to stretch myself... I just hope I don't pull something....

It's time...

I am the world's most perfectionistic blogger. That's probably why it's been over a year since I last wrote on here. I write a paragraph and then I completely erase it. It's not that I want it to be absolutely perfect, but for some reason I'm just really picky about what I say.

I'd like to say I'm sorry for not having blogged in so long, but I'm honestly not that sorry. Bloggerland is much better off having not heard all I could have written in the past year. Well, I partially take that back. God has done an incredible work in me this past year (more so than any other year, no doubt) and I know I could have let all of you in on the incredible ways He has revealed Himself to me, but this year has been about truly coming to know Him in a way that I never have before... and I think He has wanted me to keep it to myself. Until now.

I've had a compelling need rising up for some time now to start blogging again. But it's an easy thing to put off when you haven't written in so long. I used to write all the time, even before I started this blog. I've never done it to keep people "updated" but rather to put life into a better perspective for myself. And if it affects others in a similar way, I'm thankful. So there I was with this secret internal compulsion to put my pen to the paper, when an external confirmation made its appearance. My best friend decided to randomly ask why I don't ever write anymore and mentioned that she checks my blog all the time. Justeen Roy, I dedicate this to you.

So here you have it. A blog about writing blogs. Probably a disappointment to some, but it's just what I needed for right now. I have many different subject matters I want to discuss here very soon. But I needed just a simple jump-start to get myself going. I think I'll put that here:

It's time to write again.

A Milestone

If you are a typical human being, you will experience at least several monumental moments over the course of your life. The first day of school. Learning to ride a bike. Graduating High School. Getting married. Having a baby. These are what we would call milestones. Every person has them, big or small, public or private.

Recently I reached another milestone in my life. One that some may not even refer to as a milestone, but for me it's been the day that I've been waiting for for a long time.

Three weeks from now I will be living in Lynchburg, Virginia going to Liberty University. My major is in Counseling Psychology and my goal is to be a Marriage and Family Therapist. Whether or not that actually happens, I'm leaving it in God's hands. But I've never had any question as to what my major would be. Counseling. A no-brainer. Never thought twice about it.

Most people view counseling, or therapy, as a last resort for the weakest of the weak. Only the nut jobs have to have it. A normal person is normal, therefore they are in no need of any sort of counseling. Right? This is what we tell ourselves, and even if we never consciously think those thoughts, society has us believing that if anyone ever knew we went to counseling, they'd think us a freak. Tell me I'm wrong.

For the past seven months I, myself, have been in counseling. It was something I knew I needed for a long time before I finally admitted it and asked for help. And that's exactly what counseling is. Help. Sometimes we can't do it all on our own. Sometimes the most normal person actually needs a little bit of normality. And sometimes there is a better solution than avoiding your not-yet-dealt-with issues that are poisoning your potential.

We all do things we regret. We all do things that affect us long-term, and when those issues are not dealt with properly, they become a thorn in the flesh. Stuffing something down further and further, refusing to bring it back up and deal with it will only hinder a person from growing and moving on. And that's exactly what was happening to me. The more time that would pass by, the better I became at suppressing. I was fine. Time would heal all things and eventually none of this would ever haunt me again. But I was wrong. Time made things worse. The further down I shoved my past, the more it ached within me. It's like needing to throw up. You feel so terrible, but you keep holding it in. You don't want to bring back up that awful taste. The awful smell. The terrible sounds. But the more you hold it in, the worse you feel. Finally it all comes up and as much as you hated the process, you feel so much better now don't you?

I didn't want to face things again. I didn't want to deal with what I'd been avoiding for so long. Time heals all wounds, right?

My first visit to see the counselor was one of the worst days of my life. I was scared beyond expression. I sat there with the biggest knot in my stomach and literally wanted to physically throw up. Nothing could compare to the first and second weeks. As the weeks wore on, it became easier. Once over the hump, I began to see gradual transformation in my life. And when I say gradual, I mean snail mail gradual. Healing comes slowly.

But oh how worth it it is in the end!

On Thursday, July 30, 2009 around noon, I got in my car and drove out of a parking lot in Indianapolis leaving behind the biggest load I ever hope to carry in my entire life. No it didn't happen in one day. But the final session with my counselor marked an unbelievable end to an unbearable load carried too long and too far. It also marked an incredible beginning to a world not yet experienced and taken into my heart in full. A milestone.

I cannot tell you what counseling could do for you. But I'll tell what counseling did for me.

It brought freedom.

I give zero credit to the person in the chair listening to me, and 100% credit to the Savior of my heart who rescued me from too many years of bondage and captivity to my own regrets and self-loathing. Only He can remove those things from my heart and life and replace them with amazing peace, hope, gratitude and guidance.

So. Maybe you're the person who has never thought counseling to be for the normals. Or maybe you've been exactly where I've been and can give similar testimony about the benefits of counseling. Or maybe... you're living in a prison with walls you constructed yourself. Maybe you know what it's like to be in bondage and unable to find freedom. Maybe you don't remember the last time you felt worthy of forgiveness and love. Or. It may be that you feel none of these on the surface, but deep down you know you're avoiding what needs to be dealt with. Whatever that may be. If that is you, please understand something: That was me.

I consider my experience in seven months of counseling to have been one of the greatest decisions I could have ever made, and I am so glad to know what it feels like to be on the couch. If it's what God has, one day I'll be the one in the chair saying, "I've sat where you're sitting, and I'm glad you're here."

A social stigma may tell you that counseling is the last thing you could ever need barring some terrible life-altering tragedy. On the contrary, it is very much for the "normal" people. Don't be afraid of it.

God so badly wants to change your life. He doesn't want you being held back by things since past. He doesn't want you held back by addictions no one else knows about. He wants you out of that double life and free from all hindrances. The feeling of freedom is indescribable. You can have that.

I have that.

Five Weeks

Three. Whole. Months.

I am not a dedicated blogger, as one can see from the time span between now and my last post. For me writing is not something to be forced. That's why I hate English so much because I hate being forced to write papers. Don't force me to write!! It has to come. Freely flow from the depths of my soul. So now that I have successfully defended myself, I digress.

A few years ago I remember having a conversation with my mom in our van one morning after church. It was wintertime and snow was on the ground. I have no recollection of what we were talking about, but she made a statement that I will remember and repeat for the rest of my life:

"Things can change so fast it'll make your head spin."

Doesn't sound too profound I guess. But it's been something I've held on to and reminded myself of in the times that I've looked for a change, and in times I've been comfortable and not wanted a change. And when we really apply that statement to the pattern of our lives, we realize the ultimate truth it holds for each of us. Think back on the last five years of your life. Are you where you always thought you would be? Most of us would never have dreamed of being where we are now. Our plans and intentions change as time goes on and we, ourselves, change as time goes on. At the core of it, however, God never changes, and He has known where you would be today since before you were born.

"Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, The days fashioned for me, When as yet there were none of them." -- Psalm 139:16

Three months ago I had a plan for how my life would unfold this coming fall. Nothing too extravagant. Then what happened to me is what my mom had said. Things changed so fast, my head spun.

I was sitting at home one night, not really doing anything important, but feeling restless. That feeling in the pit of my stomach that said something wasn't quite right, yet I could not figure out what it was or why it was there. I sent out some texts to my closest friends asking them to pray for me and for my future. Have you ever said something that you afterward were surprised you said because you didn't know you were even thinking it? I've done that several times lately, and I did it on this night as well. I opened my Bible and prayed the Lord would show me where to look, what to read. Why was I feeling like this?

I took my Bible, got in my car and drove around for a while. Pulling into a parking lot, I turned on my light and began reading again. As time wore on I became more and more restless and my prayers became frantic and scattered. I needed answers. God, what is the deal here? Take this feeling away. I don't know what You want.

I fell asleep that night with no resolution, and went to work the next morning feeling the exact same way. My prayers were constant and I just knew I was getting a stomach ulcer. As my mind began to wander to my life and my plans, one thing became clear to me: All peace about my plans for school was completely gone. It was as if Jesus just shut the door in my face and said, No. I was terrified. I panicked. Standing in the Ivy Tech Bookstore, my stomach dropped and I wanted to cry. What? Just like that? What is this? I couldn't understand what was happening. I tried to act like I had just conjured up this horrible feeling myself and that it wasn't real. But I got more and more scared the more and more I tried to swallow and forget it. In that moment I knew that I was not going to IUPUI in the fall as I had been planning. My next terrified thought: Then what?? What is this supposed to mean?

My brain was going 90 mph thinking of every possibility for this revelation I'd just had, and as time went on I only became more confused and more insecure. The next two years of my life had just evaporated. I had no foundation, nothing keeping purpose in my every day routine anymore. I remember thinking Ok, if not IUPUI... then where? And then came every school I could think of. And when the name crossed my mind, I knew. And the fear that followed just about made me wet my pants.

For the past two years I've gone to Ivy Tech Community College in Indianapolis. I knew it was just a stepping stone but I hadn't any definite plans for a college afterward, until I finally decided I would just go to IUPUI since nowhere had an open door. Probably the most annoying thing about being in college is when every single school you've ever applied at seems to never lose hope that you will one day be attending THEIR university, so they call you at least once a week. One school in particular being Liberty University. Great school, but I never really planned on going there. Virginia is just too far away. I applied because that's what you do when you're in college. You see a school's name, you apply. It's a rule, isn't it? But seriously... do they have to call you every five minutes? It got old. Fast. So as you can see, the name Liberty University should have came and went in my mind without a second thought, as it had always done before. Anytime I would consider it... nope. That door just wasn't open. Closed. Locked. No key to be found.

When it happened, it was unlike any other time. Liberty University. And as the bright neon letters shone in my mind's eye, behind them was a door and it was wide open. I should have been ecstatic. I'd solved the mystery of the previous restless night, hadn't I? Breathe a sigh of relief and be excited for a brand new future. No. I was in denial and I was scared. Like you really don't understand. S-C-A-R-E-D. Immediately I tried to forget what I had just thought. No, you made that up. That wasn't real. That feeling is fake. You're imagining things. That wasn't real.

It's really hard to adequately explain what it's like to hear from God. I honestly had a very hard time even admitting that it was the Lord's voice that day, but there's no other explanation for it. It was definitely not something I could make up because I avoided it for two weeks before I would even say it out loud. Days went by and I was still scared. I'd pray that the Lord would take it away, that He would show me I'd made that up and it wasn't real. Or that if it truly was Him speaking that He'd choose another way, a more obvious way. Write it on the wall maybe? I really did ask for that several times. How can I just simply go on a "feeling"?? How made up is that? I prayed and prayed and prayed and prayed some more. After that I prayed again. Begging that God would take it away. That I wouldn't feel like this anymore. While I'd always wanted to go away to college, it always seemed like one of those things that would be cool but would never really happen. It was so much easier to just stay here and go to IUPUI. Why, God? Why now? It's almost May! I don't have time. You should have told me earlier. Too late. Sorry boutcha.

I came up with every possible excuse I could to not believe that was really God. I consulted a few people, and got some very sound advice that has stuck with me much in the same as the statement my mom gave me a few years ago. While talking to my friend, Olivia, I said "But how can I ever really know that it's God? I wish He would just write it on the wall. It would be so much easier" Olivia: (paraphrasing) "You're having restless feelings about your future, and then Liberty is the only thing you can think about. God IS writing on the wall, why won't you see it for what it really is?" It was the first thing that had given me comfort in consenting to believe it was truly His voice. Another instance was when talking to a new friend, Pastor Mike, and mentioning how uncertain I was feeling about the whole thing. He made a similarly profound statement: "Walk towards the open door until He closes it." I gained a peace from hearing that like nothing else because it said to me that God will let me know if it's not really His will. If I'm making a mistake, He'd sure make me aware.

When it still didn't go away, I asked that if it were really what He wanted, that He would give me the desire to go there. At this point all I'm feeling is fear. The days passed and gradually my fear turned into acceptance and acceptance into desire and desire into excitement. I wanted to go! But still, I had not voiced it. This is a huge deal.

A night came when my parents were about to go to bed and my mom told me goodnight, I blurted out the words "I don't feel peace about IUPUI anymore." The tears were hard to hold back. It's never an easy thing to have your world, your plans, your routine, your comfortableness completely shaken up by a God who has something better. Because at that time you don't see it as better. You see it as inconvenient and frustrating. A thorn in my side. A threat to my plans. It's not easy to hear yourself say it out loud for the first time. And it's definitely not easy telling your parents that you're changing your mind because "the voice said so." Oh yeah, it was God, I promise. Even with a pastor for a dad, it's not always easy to make a drastic life decision and try to convince him it's really God's will.

I'm blessed to have the support of my parents in going and have never wavered from the peace I've gained in surrendering to go where the Lord is leading me. I am excited beyond expression and cannot wait to be there and see all that He has in store for me.

Yesterday was Early Orientation and my mom and I drove the nine hours to Lynchburg for my first time to see the campus. Gorgeous. There is a spirit about every person we came in contact with that we knew was genuine and lively and something I can't wait to be a part of.

Five weeks from now I'll be packed and ready to hit the road for my newfound home in the mountains of Virginia. Five weeks left to get some things right and say goodbye to Indiana the right way.

Five weeks. Oh, how you will fly by.

Death is Swallowed Up in Victory

Every year this time rolls around, and every year I don't think much about it. I always realize the significance, but I've noticed that each year it becomes more and more special.

Another year I experience in this world is another 365 days I've had to mess up. Age brings experience. The younger I was, the more innocent I was, so Easter never held a strong personal notion to it. But the older I've gotten, the more reason I've needed the cross. The more days I'm in this world, the more I mess up. But the opposite is the same too. The older I get the more knowledge and discernment I gain, therefore helping me make better decisions with my life. However, Easter always reminds me that I'm in need of a Savior. Before I ever even knew it... I was lost and headed away from Christ.

This year Easter is even more personal for me because I know the sin I've lived in and the selfishness I've held on to my whole life. I pray I can love Him more and more because He forgives me more and more.

"Therefore, I tell you, her many sins have been forgiven—for she loved much. But he who has been forgiven little loves little" -- Luke 7:47

Tomorrow marks the day in history when the Son of God conquered death, and with it, sin. I love Christmas. It is my absolute favorite holiday. But Easter, Resurrection Day, is actually the single greatest day in history. No doubt. Better than His birth, without His resurrection the cross was in vain and we are still lost in our sin. But on that third day, a heartbeat began again inside of a lifeless body in a dark and cold tomb. And Jesus Christ stood up and walked out.

Death.
Sin.
Conquered.

"Death is swallowed up in victory.
Where, O death, is your victory?
Where, O death, is your sting?" -- 1 Corinthians 15:54-55

Car Rides

There is something very therapeutic about a car ride. Many times I have gotten out of a car a different person than when I got in. Even in short distances. There is just something about the open road ahead of you that knows no boundaries as to what might happen before your destination is reached.

Yesterday I was on my way home from class, a 30 minute drive, and thinking about random things. The thought crossed my mind to do something nice for someone, and then immediately I wondered to myself, Am I only loved because of the good things I do? If I never did anything nice or special for someone ever again, would I still be loved? The question came out of nowhere. I started wondering if people only really love and care about others because of the things they do or don't do. I think we are all guilty of it to a certain degree, but in this moment I was in a serious worrisome state. The question begged an answer. Could I ever be loved simply because I am Christie?

I will go out on a limb here and take a risk that it might snap off...
I have been guilty of doing things for people for the benefit of being liked. I hate that. It's never a conscious thought I'm thinking, but in the back of my mind I know I'm wanting them to be pleased with me. I'm a people-pleaser. I wish I wasn't. I want no ulterior motives except to benefit someone else in any possible way.

Back to the car. I'm wrestling with this question for quite some time and it was a very intense thinking process. Would someone like me simply because of my spirit? Am I delighted in? Does my heart make people feel better simply because they know me? What if I suddenly did terrible things? What then? All these questions just kept coming up. This car ride was so unlike any other I've had. I was seriously needing answers.

The first question came up again. Am I only loved because of the good things I do?

I heard a Voice at that moment that made my heart drop. People's love may be conditional, but My Love for you is for always. No matter what you do, I will always love you for you.

In the times I have left Him, He has never left me. Christ loves me because I am me. And there's a place in His heart that only I can fill. Jesus knows when we need to hear something. I needed this.

Car rides are an irreplaceable aspect of life. (Except when you take out a shopping cart in the dark. Now that is definitely replaceable).

Isaiah 58

As I am in the middle of another 101 adventure, I realize for the first time what I've gotten myself into.

Number eighteen on my list is "Fast for 3 days." And honestly, I put it there for no other reason than to get it accomplished, not thinking about why I would be fasting for 3 days. Up until time for it to begin, I hadn't really given it much thought at all. The night before it started (2 nights ago), Bethany and I prayed together and I began to grasp the seriousness of what a fast is all about. All along I was just wanting to cross off another 101 project. Then it hit me like a blow to the head.... a fast isn't about a 101 list. It's something so much more serious and impacting. Relationship-altering.

I can't remember when Isaiah 58 started to impact me, but it's been a few years now that every time I come across that chapter I have this desire to experience God the way He promises to be experienced through fasting.

"Is this not the fast that I have chosen:
To loose the bonds of wickedness,
To undo the heavy burdens,
To let the oppressed go free,
And that you break every yoke?

Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

Then your light shall break forth like the morning,
Your healing shall spring forth speedily,
And your righteousness shall go before you;
The glory of the LORD shall be your rear guard."
-- Isaiah 58:6-8

Loose the bonds of wickedness.
Undo the heavy burdens.
Let the oppressed go free.
Break every yoke.

Oh Lord, that it may be so.
I want it.
Jesus, I want You.