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Monday, December 15, 2014

ours is the God

It's impossible to deny it, the lights all aglow, the Christmas lists dragging on and on... and in the hustle and bustle of getting everything done, if you listen carefully, there's a calm whisper all around you- in the lights of the tree, the glow of the fire, it is everywhere, but you must notice it, "All is grace." All is grace, and we can slow down this Christmas and we can see it all around us, the story of Christmas, stitched into every moment of every chapter.

For a while, I used to get this notion that it was possible to be "too dirty" for God, that after a certain point I was unbearable, I was too complicated, too much of a disappointment to take on. And after a semester of learning about a vast number of different religions in one of my classes, I am reminded, again, of the beauty of our God. You see, in all of humanity's religions, man reaches after God. But in all His relationships, God reaches for man. 

Ann Voskamp says it beautifully, "[God] reaches for you who have fallen and scraped your heart raw, for you who feel the shame of words that have snaked off your tongue and poisoned corners of your life, for you who keep trying to cover up pain with perfectionism" (The Greatest Gift). God reaches for us, through the densest thicket of failure, amidst the storm of self loathing. 

He calls out to us, "Where are you?" and we tremble in our shame and our guilt, just like Adam and Eve hid after biting into the apple that had tempted them. "Where are you?" he beckons, he reaches.

Sometimes, when we hear him calling, our shame becomes too much, and instead of falling into his arms, we attempt to run from his presence. (Run from his presence? As if that is even a possibility...) But still, we run, full-fledged into a sprint the opposite way, delving further and further into our sins. We tell ourselves we are much too far now. We cannot come back from this. And our hearts become calloused, and we ache. And we tune out the whispering that all is grace. And we forget grace altogether. 

But despite our running, the Lord, our loving Father grabs us, pulls us in, begs of us to let him love us, to love our wounds, our hurt, our shame. He washes us of our shame and our guilt every day. And while he cradles us in his arms, he reminds us that he has made us new, hallelujah, and that our past will never scare him out of loving us.

"Where is he?" The wise men asked, the first question of the New Testament. And we hardly ever wondered why they were called wise men... "Where is he?" They came searching.
"We only find out where we are when we find out where He is. We only find ourselves... when we find Him."
The wise seek the presence of Christ in a thousand places, because they know that you only come to yourself when you come to Him. So when we run, when we sprint away from the question of where we are, when we sprint in the attempt to escape our shame in the presence of God, we are being the farthest thing from wise.

Why would we run from a God who skipped telling us the steps to take to him and took the step down to us? Why would we run from the God who carries us, the ones who are bone weary of all the trying and the striving? Because we forget grace. We forget to listen for the whisper.
"He comes to us not in spite of our failings- but precisely because of them. Ours is the God who is drawn to those who feel down. Ours is the God who is attracted to those who feel abandoned. Ours is the God who is bound to those who feel broken."
This is grace. This is reason to slow. This is not to be missed. If we simply linger in the doorway, stare at the tree, watch the glow of the fire, it's strange, but you can see it. That Jesus came down, he is our ladder, he is love. Grace is what carries us all the way home, but we must see it. We must hear it in the midst of our failures, in the midst of our trying and our hiding. We cannot hide from this grace, it is much too miraculous, it is much too loving. He seeks us out, he calls out to us "where are you?" and he wraps us in the clothes of his grace. He covers our nakedness with his grace, he covers our shame with his grace. We must not miss this!

There are ten days until Christmas. Ten days until our Savior is born. Can you feel it, the coming? We should slow, we should praise. We should wake, and our hearts should pour out, and we should ask, "where is he?" We should find him on our knees, we should delve further into his grace, snuggle up into his arms, and we should wait. Wait for the coming, for the wonder, that while God looks at us in our lowest, he loves us all the way up to the sky. He sent his son. Ours is the God who is grace, who is love, who cannot be avoided, who should not be missed.

Thursday, August 7, 2014

running with peace

Our heavenly Father came that we may have life and have it to the full. How often do we settle for so much less? We compromise living in his peace so that we can fill our schedules with endless to-do lists and carry the stresses of our day to day tasks on our own shoulders, complaining to our friends, "I'm just so weighed down and stressed... I never stop!"

Oh that's so me. This week is my last week home before going back to Clemson for my Junior year, and let me tell you... I have my hands full. Between sanding and painting furniture and planning my dream room for my apartment, I have also been nannying and squeezing in those last minute appointments so everything is in order when I get back for the fall semester. This morning, I had scheduled a hair appointment- a not so dire need, but more of a reward, something to treat myself. Needless to say, I had been looking forward to it all week. It was going to make me feel pretty and excited to be heading back to school (girls, I know you understand what I'm saying here). Well, I get a phone call this morning at 9:15, telling me my appointment was at 9:00, even though I am adamant that they had told me 9:30, and that I would have to settle for an appointment tomorrow with someone else or just not have one at all. I was furious. I was cold and short with the poor receptionist on the other end of the line, saying I lived an exact 2 minutes away and could be there right then- but no; that wasn't possible, the hair stylist would then be behind for all of her other appointments. And I'm thinking, "so WHAT?" My morning wasn't going how I planned. I hung up with her so angry, I tossed my fork from breakfast into the sink and slammed a couple drawers. How would I survive?! The one thing I was looking forward to today was not happening anymore and so my whole day was now going to be ruined.

Well thanks to the lack of hair appointment, I had some extra time to kill before heading off to nanny. So I spent some time reading from a book for my bible study and, ironically, (it's never coincidence with the Lord) the chapter was on laying aside anxiety and running with peace.

Halfway through the chapter, I was humbled with the realization that the Lord wanted me to miss my hair appointment so that I would, like the selfish person I am, come to Him all whiney, expecting some consolation. He was actually demanding time from me because I hadn't set it aside myself. Because I was so stressed and had too much to do! (How we ever have so much to do that we can't spend a few waking moments with our Savior who created us and redeemed us from sin, I have yet to understand)

I began to realize how selfish and silly it was for me to be so upset about something so minuscule not going my way. The Lord literally had to slap me across the face with what He was trying to teach me. (Sometimes, I like to think the Lord would literally slap me across the face had he been standing there in the flesh) I was being prideful and stubborn in the way I was carrying myself, claiming to be stressed and a little anxious about this coming semester, but not bringing these worries to Him because I could do it on my own. Well maybe I could, but look at how that was going for me... me almost to the point of tears because a hair appointment was missed... the Lord did not want me to live this way!

The words of the chapter were clear on that. Jerry Bridges states,

"Because God cares for you, you can cast your anxiety on Him. Do not get these thoughts reversed. The text does not say, 'If you cast your anxieties on Him, He will care for you.' His care is not conditioned on our faith and our ability to cast our anxiety on Him; rather, it is because He does care for us that we can cast our anxiety on Him."

God cares for me so unbelievably much that He desires for me to cast my anxiety on Him because he cares for me and does not want me to live a stressed and restless life! He desires for me to experience His peace and the joy that comes with casting my stresses on Him- but in order to do that, I have to set aside time with Him... which I hadn't been doing. Perhaps it was partly because I was prideful and didn't want the Lord's help because I felt capable on my own, and partly because I felt burdensome and didn't want to ask for His peace over such silly worries and troubles.

But Charles Spurgeon writes,

"When I am tossed to and fro with various reasonings, distractions, questionings, and forebodings, I will fly to my true rest. From my sinful thoughts, my vain thoughts, my sorrowful thoughts, my griefs, my cares, my conflicts, I will hasten to the Lord; he has divine comforts, and these will not only console but actually delight me. How sweet are the comforts of the Spirit! Who can muse upon eternal love, immutable purposes, covenant promises, finished redemption, the risen Saviour, his union with his people, the coming glory, and such like themes without feeling his heart leaping with joy? The little world within us, like the great world without, is full of confusion and strife; but when Jesus enters it, and whispers, "Peace be unto you," there is a calm, yea, a rapture of bliss."

I think that only the comfort of the Lord has the ability to actually delight us, bring us such joy that we can experience a rapture of bliss... that is why He clearly begs us, continually reminds us, "be anxious about nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, present your requests to God." It is when we dedicate our time to Him, come to Him humbled and looking for rest, literally make a gap in our schedule, sacrifice whatever it takes, whether it be a hair appointment or coffee with a friend, that we can experience this peace that He offers to us, the peace that "transcends all understanding" that "will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (Philippians 4:4-7)

I am so thankful for this lesson today. Humbled. The Lord had to take something away from me that I was looking forward to, but He knew that this is what I needed instead. And since I wouldn't make time for Him myself, He forced me to have time for Him. Now I understand it shouldn't be that way. Why live stressed, on edge, when I can delight in the peace of the Lord and come to Him for rest and true joy? Stop settling for a not-so-full life. The Lord desires for us to experience joy and freedom from our anxieties if we only choose to make time for Him.

Friday, July 25, 2014

focus

I ask of myself, if the Lord were to ask me these things, how would I respond, truly?

"Does what I think matter to you? If I am pleased with you is that enough? If I want you to speak and no one responds, will you speak for just Me?"
Oh Lord, make it enough. Make it enough when you are pleased with me and no one else seems to be. Lord allow me to speak only for you- when no one else responds, encourages, can you make my heart open and soft enough to be content with your declarations of how you cherish me? Can you put away my selfish desire to be admired and change my focus to that of Paul- that your power and glory shining through me are what should be admirable? Help me to not waste my life dancing around for the love and applause of men, which leads to my destruction, but to dance for you; to live and run this race for you, which leads to my joy and ultimately, my purpose. You are better than what I have been focusing on. Will you fix my heart on drawing near to you and desiring to please only you?

"Am I now trying to win the approval of man, or of God? If I were still trying to please men, I would not be a servant of Christ." Galatians 1:10

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

Stepping stones

Sometimes, you have to be thankful for the people in your life that you've said goodbye to. Because even though they are no longer a part of your life personally, they were a stepping stone on your journey to who you've now become... and you can only hope that you were the same and that you are now beautifully who each of you are because of your lessons learned during those moments together. And those moments shouldn't haunt you; they shouldn't make you sad, because at the time, they made you happy and brought you wisdom. Sometimes, people are brought into our lives to teach us something worth learning, and then brought out of our lives so that we can put those lessons we learned into practice and transform into the best "us" that we can possibly be. And isn't that all we can ask for in life? To love and to learn and to be bettered by those who we come in contact with?

Sunday, May 4, 2014

Crippled by fears

Avoiding fears and hurt can be fashioned in many ways. I have seen people so desperate to numb their pain, to avoid their fears, that they willingly throw themselves away in the process. Sure, it seems harmless at first, saying "just this once, it won't happen again," but then, a few weeks later, there you are and you feel like your world is spiraling out of control.

Maybe it was the careless way that you handled something, or maybe it is the innate fear that you will be a failure and make your parents' same mistakes. Maybe it's the fear of the unknown, or the fear that you will never be good enough. Fears can suffocate you and hurt you all the same. The brave ones in this world choose to face them, full-force; however, unfortunately, some spend so much time and energy attempting to run from them, they find themselves stumbling into the very thing they were afraid of... and by that point, it is oftentimes too late.

Every time the pain of an old heartache hits you, it is so much easier to tip back a Bud Light than it is to face reality and realize that maybe you were wrong. Maybe it was your fault and you were the one who handled things incorrectly. Cowards numb their pain, they run as far as they can away from being man enough to face them and not only admit that they were wrong, but do something to change it. Cowards bury themselves beneath distractions, only to tell themselves that right now is not the time.

Well, then tell me, when will be a good time? If you don't stand up on your two feet now, dust yourself off, and face the facts of life and your fears and hurt, when will you ever be ready? Old habits die hard, and I'd be willing to bet, if your escape is the bar today, it very well will be four weeks from now. And cowards never choose to change.

When will you stop numbing your pain and denying your fears? Isn't it time we all started trying to be the best versions of ourselves that we can? That we run towards our fears in the hopes and expectations to conquer them rather than cripple in their wake? Why are we so easily convinced that the mountain is much too tall to climb, that the future holds our destiny? We can just as easily choose to take life by the reins and run full-force in the direction that we so desperately hope that we deserve, deep down. Stop quivering at the unknown, belittling yourself to the sum of your mistakes and do something about it now. Now is all that you can be sure of.

Complacency is easy for the coward. He lives barricaded in by his own fears and hurt, so that he never experiences what was in store for him had he only chosen to grow and take a few chances. Discomfort is the home of the brave. They throw themselves into situations, never expecting failure, but hoping for lessons. If they fall down, they rise stronger; if they are hurt, they never shut themselves away, but instead see the lessons they were able to take from their pain. There is something unbelievably powerful in feeling the emotions that you have. Experiencing them in full, soaking them in their rawest, realest state.

So, you can choose to numb yourself every night with that bottle of whiskey, you can avoid your fears and your pain by numbing yourself, but at the end of the day, the buzz wears off and you wake up feeling worse off than you did before. And in that moment where you wake up and wonder how you got here, and why it is that your world so violently spirals out of control, I hope you get up and choose to feel. And whatever you feel, I hope it changes you. I hope it shapes you and causes you to take action... I hope you choose to do something to change it.

Monday, April 28, 2014

Icy waters

I guess I'm angry because I was so vulnerable. I shared my heart and the deepest, not so pretty parts of me, only to never be let in. And that's why it should be so easy to walk away: because you never let me all the way in. You were always hiding a part of yourself from me, but I ignored it, and kept sharing pieces of me hoping you'd eventually exchange some of you in return.

Well that never happened. And so here I am, looking back on it all now thinking how stupid I was, how thoughtless it was for me to be so real and so vulnerable with someone who was never even sure of what he wanted. A part of me wants to regret that I did, but then another part knows that everything has happened the way that it was supposed to-- something I have to force myself to trust. But some days I wake up, and that faith doesn't make it any easier. You told me to be strong, though, and so strong I will be. Strong in the knowledge that to be honest, you and I both have some growing up to do.

Someone once described the sensation of being thrown into icy water as "hitting you like a thousand knives stabbing you all over your body." Upon those first moments in the water, you can't breathe, you can't think about anything except for the pain. Many people have compared a breaking heart to the sensation of being thrown into icy water. Ironically enough, I have recently experienced both, and I can agree. But the thing about being thrown into icy water is, that while it hurts at first in shocking, breath-taking pain, eventually it numbs you and the pain disappears almost as quickly as it came. A part of me excused certain actions of yours that hurt me, but when it comes down to it, I excused you all too often. I was blinded by the amazing person that you are, underneath it all, the amazing person that you can choose to be. But some of the time, you didn't choose to be that person... and I needed you to. But the person that this experience has shaped me into isn't even sad about the change, just about how it all went. I'm not one to hold grudges or ever be bitter; I'm a firm believer in the fact that everything happens for a reason.

I know that without you, I wouldn't be the woman that I am today. So, I do have a lot to thank you for. But I also have to thank you for making me realize my worth and that fighting against the urge to settle is a fight I deserve to persevere through. You deserve to grow into the incredible young man that you have the potential to be, and that isn't possible with me in your life. I don't know why, but I think both of us know very well that we are in different places in our lives, both mentally and physically. I have been told to never regret anything that once made you happy. I don't regret you. I never will be capable of convincing myself of that. Instead, I am thankful and optimistic about what the future holds for each of us. Who knows where the future will lead us?

I hope that you know how privileged you are to have been let into my heart so intimately, so selflessly, and that I wouldn't change knowing you. I hope you choose to grow into the wonderfully devoted, loyal, and selfless man that I knew for a time; and that you choose to be the best version of yourself everyday. Live in today and never yesterday. I hope that you don't beat yourself up too much when you realize how little you gave; allow it to change you. Lord knows we both need to.

And when you're thrown out into the real world, and the thousands of knives stab all over your body in fear and pain; when the real world and it's demands steal your breath and make it impossible to think just like when that icy water hit me, I hope you think of how I got up, got out, and handled it with grace and dignity. I hope you remember that you're the one that threw me into the water in the first place, the one that gave this up. I ask you to be strong for me then like I have been strong for you now.

Sunday, April 27, 2014

Time

I hate change. I hate that empty, gut-wrenching moment when you look back at an empty room that is still so full of memories and laughs, and you have to turn around and walk away. Tears fill your eyes and goodbyes never seem to go easily, but life doesn't stop when you feel overwhelmed. It never stops, no matter what. And life goes on, despite the heartache of nostalgia and the fear of what is to come next. The clock ceaselessly ticks on, even in those moments when we desperately wish it wouldn't. But if we never embrace the change, if we never turn our backs on the old room, how will we ever experience the beautiful memories to come with the next?

There's no sense in holding onto something that is already gone, it just prevents us from stepping forward and experiencing the new adventure that awaits. Tears swell up in my eyes looking at my half-empty room, wondering where the hell the time went? How is my sophomore year already gone? How is my brother graduating? Everything seems to be moving in fast-forward and I cannot keep up. I realize how I haven't cherished my life. My every moment; the hard ones, the good ones, the unbelievable ones, the boring ones, the ones where I was afraid or alone, the times when I was so full of life and love, the ones where I could hardly pull myself up in the mornings. I should cherish them all. Every moment, every breath. The days where I am bored and alone, the days where I am delighted in the fun and company of others. I will never get a moment back, ever. Why waste a moment in anger? In bitterness? Sad or regretful?

Looking back on this year, I choose to look forward. I thank God for the memories and for the time I had here, but I plan to cherish every moment at home for the summer, and every last moment of my Junior year. Time moves all too fast and before I know it, I will be looking back on my life wondering how I became 85? I plan to look back in fulfillment and gladness; I never want to ask, "what if?"