Immanuel, God with us

The Virgin shall conceive and you shall call his name Immanuel. 

Immanuel, Immanuel.
God with us.

Tender are our hearts, fragile are our souls.
How far off has our God seemed?
Our sacrifices have fallen short, our wayward flesh has turned away.
Oh Lord, How long?

The cry was growing greater.
O Come, O Come Immanuel.
The captivity of our hearts is great, The longing of our souls is immense.
How long, Oh Lord?
We need a ransom, We need a savior.

But there will be no gloom for her who is in anguish.

Immanuel, his name like a blanket over our frozen bodies.
Immanuel, this hope like a healing balm to our wounds that have not stopped bleeding.
Immanuel, our cry has never been more sure,
our longings have never been more real.

The people who have walked in darkness have seen a great light.

The Hebrews were not even looking,
how dim their light had been.
The Gentiles had not even known,
how dark their decaying worlds existed.

The angel said to them, Fear not! For I bring you glad tidings of great joy that will be for all the people.

Instantaneously, their hearts were touched with light.
It did not blind them, it caused them to see for the first time.
Every heart in all of humanity in the proclamation of the Savior's birth rejoiced.
The fulfillment of prophecies, the hope of the whole world, the one who was to come was here.

Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

As they gazed down at this child of love, whose tender smile was a gift, whose cry was a sure sign that God had become man, whose eyes pierced hearts. As they beheld the eyes of the Savior, hope set in. They knew. In that moment it was clear to them that this God-child had come to shake the earth. He had come to teach a new law of love, to give them a new covenant. He was Immanuel. He was God with us. Never before had anything been so profound, so marvelous, so lovely. He was here. He was for you, He was for me. He was here to bring resurrection. He was gentle and kind. He was fire and love. He was water in the desert, keys to the imprisoned, healing for the broken, hope for the hopeless. He was Immanuel. Now with us was God.

And this baby that held the whole world in his hands, came to us.
This baby came in the likeness of man to save him, guide him and love him.
This baby was God with us, This man was God for us, This resurrected Savior is God in us.
Immanuel, God is with us.

Rejoice, Rejoice, Immanuel has come to us, O Israel.

An Ode To Us

This is to you. To you who have been walking a tightrope for a long time, fairly confident you were doing well but found yourself in the middle, heart beating wildly and terrifyingly high in the sky.

This is to us. To us who are exhausted. To those of us who feel as if one more step will cause us to fall, we're in the middle of a desert and there is no comfort in sight. No beds, no inviting shelter to at least protect us from the long night.

This is to us. To us who have entered the valley of the shadow of death. The corpses are all around us, and the memories of grief haunt us.

This is for you. To you who feels this heavy sadness sinking like a millstone around your neck. The kind of sadness where the lights turn off and all you see is darkness.

This is for me. Who carries all this weight and juggles all these stories and all this emotion. This is for me, finally admitting that things are not okay.


And there it was, the beauty in the crumbling. The shining light in the midnight of this soul. The breath in this panic.
The vulnerability was shining lights into our kaleidoscope hearts.
The truth was burning light into our deepest pains and into the reality of our hurt.
The loveliness that came with the sadness in our voices when we finally said, "I'm not okay."
We crawled out of our cocoons and how marvelous it was to be free.
We dropped our baggage and our self-inflicted weight and how splendidly free we were.

Everything was falling apart. And that is when his voice was the mightiest.

"O afflicted one, storm-tossed and not comforted,

behold, I will set your stones in antimony,

and lay your foundations with sapphires." ~ Isaiah 54:11

His voice, it came gently, boldly, speaking to the disintegrating foundations of my heart.

His love, it swept in ravishing my soul, destroying every lie and inviting me into a beautiful rest, where it was his work, not my own; his strength, my weakness; his beauty, my dilapidated heart

and he began to rebuild. 

When I was 16, my aunt bought me a ring that quoted Psalm 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God." And she, knowing me so well, continually reminds me of that ring. "Leah, be still," she tells me. Parts of me feel I cannot be still. I have many things to carry, many tasks to accomplish, many messes to clean, many hearts to mend. I'm on a mission, I am a whirlwind. andhowcanIbestillwhenIjustcantstop? howcanIbestillwhenIrunsofast? I'm unstoppable,unbreakable,invincible. And yet, as I type that, I know it isn't true. And that verse comes back to me in its context.

God is our refuge and strength,

a very present help in trouble.

Therefore we will not fear though the earth gives way, 

though the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,

though its waters roar and foam,

though the mountains tremble at its swelling.

There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,

the holy habitation of the Most High,

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved;

God will help her when morning dawns.

The nations rage, the kingdoms totter;

he utters his voice, the earth melts.

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

Come, behold the works of the Lord,

how he has brought desolations on the earth. 

He makes wars cease to the end of the earth,

he breaks the bow and shatters the spear;

he burns the chariots with fire.

"Be still and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations,

I will be exalted in the earth!"

The Lord of hosts is with us;

the God of Jacob is our fortress.

There is a very real struggle here. The Psalmist is witnessing his entire world crumble. The very ground he stands on is unstable. He is unsteady as he watches mountains be thrust into the sea and he watches on the shoreline as the waves become angrier and angrier. And yet, as he witnesses the world fall apart, he sees something even more beautiful; God. God is his refuge and his strength and he sees how ever-present He is. As the kingdoms totter and fall, he hears God speak and the earth melts, goes soft, becomes putty in His hands. Come, He tells us, come and see the works of the Lord, and be still. This Greek word means to sink down, relax, and be quiet. God is telling us, Stop your striving and know (yada) that I am God. Yada is the Greek word for intimacy. Stop striving and know me. The invitation is to enter into His character and His love. To become face to face with His Kindness and His Goodness. 

It's been a rough week. For a moment, I thought my world was crumbling, my life had rewound and I was reliving my own history. There was an overwhelming anxiety, but even greater was God's call to stop striving, stop trying, to stop. And to know that He was God. Despite my unsteady heart, despite the shaky ground and the brokenness around me, He was still God and He was my refuge and strength. 

But I know that my world was not the only one that fell apart this week. A few very dear friends struggled this week also. But it was so lovely how we all rallied around each other. We gave each other what we had out of our brokenness and together there was comfort and encouragement in these rough days. 

And so, this is for us. This is an ode to us in our brokenness and our sadness and our helplessness. This is a gift of hope in our frightening circumstances and our overwhelmed hearts.

To the one on the tightrope? What you don't know is that God watched you walk out there, in all your confidence and pride. But you looked down, like Peter on the water, fear paralyzed you. And what you don't know is that there is a net below even if you fall. But if keep your eyes steady and fixed on him I promise you'll make it to the other side.

To the one is exhausted? You may not see a shelter and you may not see a reprieve from the demands that won't stop knocking on your door, but there is a promise when you turn to him in that desert place. Your way is not hidden from the Lord. "Have you not known? The Lord is the everlasting God, the creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and to him who has no might he increases strength. Even youths shall faint and be weary, and young men shall fall exhausted, but they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not be weary; the shall walk and not faint."

To the one in the valley? Oh love, don't you remember the verse? Even though you walk through the valley of the shadow of death, fear no evil for God is with you, his rod and his staff, they comfort you." My friend, this is just the shadow. Death cannot harm you, death has no sting on you. Because the Lord is your shepherd. In these pangs of grief, remember his gentle comfort and his good heart.

And to the one carrying such a heavy weight? His yoke is easy and his burden is light. You were never called to fix everyone, or carry everyone's burdens, that is only a job our strong God can do. You, my friend, were called to encourage and pray. You my friend, who try and hold the entire world together, can you not remember that was never your job? Come and rest tonight in his everlasting love and his kind heart. 

This is to us. But this is not about us. This is an invitation to let God be God. This is an invitation to rest in his everlasting love and to just be still and know that He is God. So wherever you are tonight, whether you are on a mountaintop, in the valley, carrying a burden too heavy for your small arms, exhausted or walking out on an unknown tightrope, God is with you and God is for you. 

God is in the midst of her; she shall not be moved. ~ Psalm 46:5

The Truth in the Wilderness

The terrain was my heart. This breathtaking scene before me was the landscape of my soul. My heart, full of mountains and valleys, rivers and deserts, was full. At 5400', I could not avert my eyes from the majestic beauty laid out before me.

Mount Rogers wasn't my first mountain conquered, nor was it my hardest, but it was a mountain, and victoriously I was standing on the top. As my eyes took in the miles of mountains before me, dread seeped into my heart.
There were more mountains to climb.
Don't get me wrong, I love climbing mountains, I love embarking on new adventures, but this mountain was hard. We had endured extreme cold, long nights, heavy packs and getting lost. A familiar feeling tried to wedge its way into my heart: it wasn't hopelessness I was feeling, we were beyond that, it was homesickness. O, how I longed for my heavenly home. How I am longing to be clothed in the full garments of righteousness, in the beautiful rest of Heaven because this terrain is getting rough, my feet are tired, and I am frighteningly unsteady. 

And the truth was, each of those hard things painted me a heart-wrenching picture of my own life. 

The extreme cold resembled the storm that tried to ravage me to my core. But there was gratitude, people saw my distress, mostly because I had the courage to be vulnerable and tell them how cold I was, they donated their warm things to me. Will I have the courage to be vulnerable in this trial? To take off my strength that I wear like armor, and reveal that I'm shaking to my core? To show that I am unsteady and I have questions and there is still a real struggle?

 The weight I carry has become a burden."Come to me." I heard the familiar words, "all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest." Weary? That's about right. It's the very definition of my name. Burdened? I'd say so, my pack was heavy. I was carrying less of what my true needs were and more of what I thought I might need. But there is a way to carry a backpack, that it rests just properly on your hips and becomes one with you, it's possible I did it properly. But there was this invitation. This gentle, kind, loving invitation to remove the burden and enter into rest. "Come to me." Why was it so hard to accept the invitation? Do I believe that He would give me rest? "Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." Maybe it's hard because I don't know what His yoke is, maybe it's hard because I can't imagine carrying anything different than what I have been carrying for so long. I have what works for me. Does it make me thrive? And what would happen if I actually let go(d)?

We were lost in the wilderness. After a serious of unfortunate events and quick decisions, we found ourselves on what we thought was the right path, but truly it was wrong. We came to a place where we were unsure of how we would weather the windy night, with little shelter, a lack of food and no communication with the rest of our group. But we prayed that God would guide our footsteps in the potentially dangerous predicament we found ourselves in. And he gave us wisdom, guided our reading of the map and we made it back to camp before sundown. Trust was the lesson he taught me out of this, trusting our circumstances to him and trusting others into his hands.

The mountain was hard, but it was beautiful. The storm was strong, but it created something lovely. My pack was heavy, but I learned perseverance. We saw water provided out of nothing, we shared warmth inside of cold tents, we processed what it meant for us to be lost in the wilderness and the coping mechanisms we had. We laughed and we cried, we fell and we stood strong. The mountain painted a picture, and I longed to stay on top. I was thriving on top. But there was a valley down below, where the things I learned on the mountain would be utilized and called upon. How vividly I encountered God on top of the mountain would be the light in the darkness of the valley below. But I could hear his invitation to enter into the valley, which would be a different kind of hard and unsure.

2 Corinthians 4:16-18 says,

         "So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed       day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory            beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal."

On our life mountains, we do not lose heart. But doesn't God see that our outer selves are wasting away? Doesn't He see how tired this heart is, and how weary this body has become? Doesn't He hear my groaning? How can I not lose heart?

2 Corinthians 5:4-5 says,

            "For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened - not that we would be unclothed          but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. He         who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee."

These verses are filled with deep hurt and immense truth. My vision can be clouded with hopelessness, but as it fades away, I hear, "I see you. I know you. I feel this with you."

We groan, anxiously waiting for the time when what is mortal will be swallowed up by life. And this next statement is stunning. He who has prepared us for this very thing is GOD. 

He who has prepared us for this mountain is God. He who is walking with us on this mountain is God. He who asks for our faith, even though everything is cloudy and we can't see feet in front of us, is God. He who knows the struggle is God. He who has felt our afflictions and knows them intimately is the God who is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison.

This weight of glory is beyond all comparison.  It does not compare to the glory I encountered on top of the mountain. It does not compare to the majesty of the wild ponies. And it surely does not compare to the struggle it took in reaching the top. This weight of glory is beyond all comparison.

With that truth, how can I not accept the perfect invitation into rest? How can I not follow GOD into the valley? How can I not trust him with everything in me? Oh yes, I'll groan, I'll hurt, I'll mourn. Surely, I'll be fragile and unsteady. But the thing about courage is that there is still fear, but there is action despite the fear.
Yes, I will still feel deeply, yes, I might break, "But I have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. I am afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed, always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be manifested in our bodies."

That is how I will not lose heart. By letting the LIGHT OF LIFE shine into my broken jar of clay so it burns like a kaleidoscope. And if climbing a mountain, extreme cold, getting lost and heavy packs can all be a part of the painful lessons of glory, then I am ready to face them head on. If all these things that make me feel hurt and shatter my clay, creates me into a better vessel for God's Light, then I will accept the invitation into rest, then I will enter into the night of wrestling so that I can know him more. 

how jumping off a cliff taught me to trust Jesus more

I found myself on top of the cliff for a few reasons.

1. I trusted my friend who coaxed me up there with my life.
2. My adventurous spirit got the best of me as I was watching the other crazy people jump.
3. I was probably crazy.

But there I was, on top of the cliff, remembering everything my parents told me when I was younger, "If your friend jumped off a cliff, would you jump too?" Of course, my answer was no.
But here I was, on top of a cliff, beside a beautiful waterfall, preparing to jump, because my friend told me to.

What an odd sense of dread and exhileration overcame me as I stood approximately 40 feet above the water. There was one rock in which I was supposed to leap from. And it was small. The water seemed so much further away then when I had been on the bottom looking up.

After a good 8 minutes of battling back and forth between hating myself for climbing up here and eager all at the same time, I was overcome with a barely an ounce of courage

and

             I
                               J
                                 U
                                     M
                                          P
                                              E
                                                  D.

How marvelous and dreadful it was to be falling weightlessly through the air.
How intense the impact when the water smacked my body.
How fearful I became when I was sure I would never find the surface.
How deeply happy I was when I breathed in for what felt like the first time in years.

Oddly enough, A few days later, someone encouraged me:
"God is putting a cliff before you and he wants you to trust him unconditionally and jump."
This person did not know that I had jumped off a cliff a few days previously.
But God knew, and certainly he was going to take advantage of this analogy.

I"m on the edge of the cliff and I'm part way between an overwhelming dread and a small ounce of courage. At the same time, I'm falling weightlessly through the sky and at the bottom barely breathing. It's a cicular pattern in my head, this cliff.

And yet, The LORD is here. He is the water encapsulating me at the bottom. He is my hope that I will not die and he is my encouragement at the top promising me how worth it this will be.

I don't know what your cliff is. Maybe it's like mine and you've already jumped and you hated it the first time and loved it all at the same time, but God is asking you to jump again. Maybe it's encountering grief and anger. Maybe it's forgiving the one who victimized you to the point of terror. Maybe, it is learning independence. Maybe it is loving deeply.
Your cliff could be many things, but the one thing I've learned about jumping off cliffs (with water at the bottom) is that thy are always worth it. You will always have a story and there is always reason to trust the ONE who calls you there.

Deep calls to deep
    at the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your waves
    have gone over me.
8 By day the Lord commands his steadfast love,
    and at night his song is with me,
    a prayer to the God of my life.

When a Heart Breaks

Her heart broke right in front of me.

I watched it fumble in her hands

and suddenly 

it fell

Silently to the floor.

It transpired in slow motion

there were pieces 

and fragments. 

I slowly looked back up to her face

it crumpled. 

a tear morphed into sobs

until her entire body gave way to 

the painful process of mourning. 

My heart wrenched inside me,

twisting until I felt a piece of her pain.

Her grief transported me 

to a place, I knew all too well.

A sadness I longed to forget,

a brokenness I didn't want to keep. 

I wanted to sweep up her heart

return it to her ribcage, whole

unscathed.

My prayers became fervent.

What do I do?

What can I do?

How can I watch her break?

How can I give her comfort?

The answers came, 

sure and steady.

If I have the Holy Spirt  

living within me

and if he is powerful

and if he speaks to the depths of my soul,

Then I have truth that shines through lies,

the comfort that breaks through pain,

hope that lights up the darkness

a peace that sits beside still waters.

I have yet to understand

all the little memories

that stay with me

and all the words 

that shaped my thinking.

I don't always know why heartache enters our souls,

and our sin-stained world has allowed

brokenness to mar our skin

and weaken our spirits.

But I do know my God 

and HE is good.

I know HIM 

and HE is kind. 

I know that the moment I saw her heart shatter,

I saw his shatter too.

When I wanted nothing more but to 

heal her heart

I know HE did more.
And I cannot understand why her heart had to break in such a way

or why I had to witness her sadness

and return to my own.

But I do know that no matter how unsteady my ground

and how shaky my feet

he is steady

he is sure

he will hold me fast.

he will heal her heart.

I now know that he doesn't tell me this life will be easy, but he does say he will be with me. He doesn't promise to take away the hurt, but he does covenant to hold me up. I trust him with my heart and I pray that every day, new opportunities will arise for me to share my hope, impart truth, prophecy love, give comfort and pray fervently. That moment, the one where I saw a heartbreak, will forever sit with me. Because the Lord has used it to confirm in me his truths, my gifts, and his heart.

when a heart breaks,

so does Jesus'.

When a heart shatters,

we see Jesus. 

adventure; fernweh; saudade (n)

Do you know what I mean when I say it was a perfect vacation?

It was with the very best people. It was as if for one beautiful week our souls had been fused together, our reunion held us tight. 

It was in the most beautiful of places. Surrounded by waterfalls speaking to my heart and beautiful mountains calling our names. 

It was lovely. There was laughter constantly in the air, the fresh aroma of memories being created, and the sweetness of adventure. 

Do you know?

And how good is my God who gifted me this precious time, these sweet hours to be forever etched in my heart. It was the beginning of the summer when he promised my heart excitement. Disappointed for my initial plans of travel fell through,  he planned bigger. He whispered, "Unexpected adventure and unexpected friendship." Straight to my soul, in the part that was the most needing, the most hungry for those things. 

The friendship came in the most expected place that I suspected it the least. And it was gentle, a soul connection, one heart tied to another instantaneously as if we were born to know one another. 

The adventure came from a quick text, a perusal on Kayak Flights, and a stash of saved tips and babysitting money hidden in my drawer. And it was unexpected and freeing and brilliant all at the same time.

I found a flight and it was cheap, a one way ticket to adventure. My friend answered my text, Yes, always down for an adventure. People seemed concerned, telling me I would need to budget more than I planned, did I really think I could afford this? Was this worth my money?

My heart fashioned for adventure seemed to care less about their silly concerns. The summer took forever to get to the day when I stepped on the plane. And then I was there, 30,000 feet in the sky, my heart even higher.

And I wonder, now that it's over, now that I'm deep in the blues of post-adventure depression, I wonder what God was teaching me on that sweet adventure. Day 1 began with some hikes to some beautiful waterfalls. The water was ice, but we had a picnic on a rock and I'll have to say that my lunch view was better than yours. We saw the sundial bridge, and drove the car flipping pennies, heads right, tails left, to tell us our final destination.

 Burney falls was stupendous. Gallons of water pouring all over the sides and into the mountain and out strange locations, the water still crystal clear. But my thirst was quenched at the Hatchet Creek Falls. There is something about floating on a log and underneath a waterfall that filled my soul which overflowed. My head fell back in laughter as Rachel screamed, "I don't want to be on the side that goes under the waterfall." But all I wanted was to keep going as Amos pushed us under the flow of the falls.

Mt. Shasta is stunning. As I looked up admiring it's beauty and wondered if maybe this was the type of mountain Jesus was talking about when he said our faith can move mountains. Because on the sides of it's steep hills, there were gentle streams of melting snow and flourishing wildflowers that had a Psalm 23 feel. The Lord is my shepherd and I have no want. He leads me beside these still waters and makes me lie down in green pastures.
 

The Redwoods were beyond comparison. Around every curve in the trail, audible "Wows" were whispered out of my mouth, immediately followed by the clunk of my water bottle as I scurried into a tree or ran to try and wrap my arms around it. We walked for hours and it still didn't get old. We walked until exhaustion demanded we find the car and our giggles were a sure sign we were entering the stage of the sleepy laughter.

Driving way too fast down back curvy roads late at night with Adele serenading us on max volume and laughing until you can't breathe because of the differences between pigs and flamingos. Some people call it reckless, but I call it living. These are the moments I live for, these are the memories I'll treasure. It is these moments I'll try to explain to you, but they are my memories and mean more to me then you'll ever know.

California was the adventure of a lifetime. It was worth every penny I spent. I think travel does something to me. It's a virus in my blood, but it has done nothing to harm me, instead it has strengthened me, taught me and grown me in incredible ways. God's voice is so much louder when I'm in new places and my heart feels alive as I stand small next to ancient trees and in awe in front of magnificent mountains. I see his Father heart when my friends speak encouragement into my life and God speaks through them to show me how to live my life more for him. The travel bug is in my heart and I can't get it out. So if every adventure begins with such a high and ends with a deep longing to return but fulfills me like this one, then keep taking me.

Travel changes my perspective. It is unexpected and vibrant and brilliant and I think it is so much like the God I serve. Oh how intimately he knows my heart. Inside and out. How wonderful that he treasures me so well that he provides these adventures.  He knows each intimate part of me. He knows I need road trips and laughter. He knows that he created my heart without borders. And he knows I need planes and cars, waterfalls and mountains. Heat and cold. He knows I need change or my heart becomes restless, I drown in these ritualistic days.

California was a gift. Sometimes God needs not say anything to me. Instead, he wraps these elegant gifts. They are packaged in priceless friends and breathtaking memories. California was God's reminder to me of how he truly loves me, he intimately knows me and he treasures me.

So I guess I wrote this to help me cope with the wanting to return, but I also wrote it for you. I want you to experience life to the fullest the way I do, I want you to jump off of waterfalls, buy plane tickets spontaneously, hike mountains and touch the coast on the other side of the world. I know a God and he is good all the time, and he is constant and faithful but he is unexpected and surprising. And with all my heart, I want you to know him too because he embarks on the most exciting of adventures with us. Life.

The Unspoken of Love Is

I forgot.
I got so distracted. So tangled up in one small characteristic that I couldn't get my heart around.

I missed it. I missed the message. Because after years of reading, "Love is patient, Love is kind..." I decided that patience was the one that needed the most work. Suddenly, without my realization, love is patient was all there was to love.

I encountered LOVE himself, I experienced the depths of his patience, his goodness, his kindness. And yet it was still a slap to my face when I moved onto the second characteristic of Love.

Love is Patient. Check.
Love is kind.

Love

is

kind.

I could hear his voice. And it was gentle, but oh, how I feel the sword of truth slicing the marrow of my soul.

I was patient, but was I kind in my love?

I did not envy, but did I boast?

I was not arrogant, but was I rude?

How often do I insist on my own way and if I do not get it am irritable in return?

I do not rejoice at wrong, but do I delight in truth?

Love is beyond patience.
Love is all of these characteristics that I cannot embody in my own strength.
Love is Someone. Love is the one, knocking, waiting, outside the door to our souls.
And when is that that we will quit trying so hard to be something that we are not.

When is it that we will fall, quickly, wholly, completely, into his bountiful grace?

This is why just a few short chapters later it does not say, "Grab a hold of love." It does not say, "Become love." As if it were a small, quick act. Instead, chapter 14 begins, "Pursue love."

Pursue. Dioko. 1. to make to run or flee. 2. to run swiftly in order to catch a person or thing--to pursue (in a hostile manner.)

I am not a biblical scholar. But this word is translated 28 times as persecute. It seems odd, but maybe  the intention is that those reading this text would see the absolute haste demanded, the intense necessity of pursuing love, not only the characteristic but ultimately the person, Jesus Christ. 

This LOVE is steadfastly patient. It is unwaveringly kind. It does not lust after other things, it's only boast is in Christ. It is not self-conceited, and it is not rude. It is self-sacrificial, and it delights in Truth. Love is Christ. And he bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things and endures all things. This Love, This Savior, he never ends.

I am falling, finally, into his bountiful grace. Love will not come from some place deep inside of me, from things I enjoy and things I desire. Instead, this LOVE will come from living a life side by side with the greatest love of them all. It will not be about my own strength, or grabbing hold of love, instead, it will be pursuing love, swiftly and purposefully.

meditations on first corinthians

Precious stones. The splendor of the riches of Gold, the softness of silver glinting in the sun. Ocean blue sapphire, Forest green emeralds, Fairytale amethyst. Ruby, diamond, opal.  These precious metals that fire will test, will not be burned. Built upon the steadfast and sure foundation of Jesus Christ, we are being made into the Temple of God. Do we not know that The Spirit of holiness and purity and love dwells within us? The temple of God must be holy. He is creating us into his holy temple. 

The Holy Spirit dwells within me. YAHWEH, the God of the Old Testament, the God of splendor and beauty and love and kindness. The God who parted waters, conquered Kingdoms, called a people to himself; that God has made me his temple. He saw me. My foundation was unsteady, I was created by the sand, ready to give into anything that came my way. I was built with wood and hay and straw, as soon as the fire hit, I would be nothing. Gone. Hopeless. The fire had already begun. My heart, quickly disintegrating. 

What did He say, though? The HOLY YAHWEH looked at a fallen, broken, people and worked wonders. The God whose foolishness is wiser than man and weakness is stronger. This God gave us a truth that all would marvel at, like a child watching in awe as a small toy is wound up to play its game. But to the world, to those lost, to those who we were once like, it is folly. It is absurd. 

We demand signs. Show us what we have already seen, we cry. We seek sense and logic. We search books and science, attempting to come up with reasons as to how God could possibly be real. How could this make sense? A perfect god-man? Walking earth? Sacrificed for a people who might never care? But to those who are called, it is the POWER and the WISDOM of God. 

The mystery of the Gospel is deeper than I can explain. Wider than I know. But it is the truth by which I live my life. The words that have changed everything. I devour my Bible like it's where I get my breath and life. Paul tells me to imitate him as he imitates Christ. Do you know what that asks of me and you?

We are fools for Christ's sake, but you are wise in Christ. We are weak, but you are strong. You are held in honor, but we in disrepute. To the present hour we hunger and thirst, we are poorly dressed and buffeted and homeless, and we labor, working with our hands. When reviled, we bless; when persecuted, we endure; when slandered, we entreat. We have become and are sill, like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things.

We are like the scum of the world, the refuse of all things. How can we impart the wisdom and power of God if we are the scum of the world? The beauty is that I am only the messenger and it is he who softens hearts and changes lives. The most amazing part is that I was nothing. My worth equated to how quickly it was to burn a house built with hay on the sand. But how good God is to move my foundation, change my heart, build me up with precious metals and stones. 

What no eye has seen, nor ear heard,

nor the heart of man imagined, 

what God has prepared for those who love him--

THESE THINGS God has revealed to us through the Spirit. 

Does it blow you away? Are you in awe? Like when you try and jump a wave but get tossed around by the immensity of the ocean and it takes your breath away? You didn't see it coming but here you are recovering from the beauty of this truth. Once, my life was unknown. Now, I can know God's plan for my life, but more miraculously, I can know God!  

Oh, how beautiful the wisdom of God to map out my life.

Oh, how wonderful the power of God to change a sinful heart like mine. 

Hallelujah, for the Kingdom of God, does not come in talk, but in power. 

Hallelujah, that I have been chosen to be a daughter of this Kingdom.

Paul ends Corinthians with the simplistic truth that has changed humanity. I am reminded of the Gospel. If it were not true that the Gospel was the POWER of God and the WISDOM of God, then we would be the most pitied of them all. If Christ had not been raised, how futile my life would be. BUT PRAISE BE TO OUR GOD, because indeed Christ has been raised from the dead, he is sitting at the right hand of the father interceding for me, and that is the truth, that is the Gospel by which I stand.

So come, Lord Jesus, build us up to be your precious Kingdom. You are our steadfast foundation, build us up with the most precious of stones. Let us build one another up with the most precious of truths. Let us LOVE deeply, let us use our gifts to the greatest capacity. Let us seek the encouragement of others, let us bring glory to God, let us flee idolatry and most importantly let us bring glory to God in everything we do. 

**All meditations and Scripture quotes are from 1 Corinthians
This is intended to get you to read the book for yourself! 

a testimony of hope

It was 5 years ago.

5 years ago when I first learned that words can shatter your world.

5 years ago when I discovered how fragile mortality is.

5 years ago when God changed my life.

I was on my first mission trip. Longing to love my surroundings. Wishing it didn't have to be about me. But a call from home that your mother's health has taken a turn for the worse will keep you chained in two locations. Satan tried to make ruin missions for me that week. Instead, God took a terrible situation and he gave me hope. The children screamed hope in my face with the VBS theme song. The woman we served gently spoke hope to my heart as she shared her stories and her love for the LORD.

It was 4 years ago.

4 years ago when I experienced the first summer without a mother.

4 years ago when I returned to Cherokee.

4 years ago when I fell in love with missions.

I was on my second mission trip. Same place, same people, different heart. I was praying, longing for a child who could resonate with my testimony. And God gave me one. His name was Alijah and for the first time, my broken heart was able to minister to another. For the first time, my sadness had purpose. For the first time, I saw God's love penetrate another broken heart. I was hooked. I wanted more.

It was 3 years ago.

3 years ago when I graduated from high school.

3 years ago when the world was at my fingertips.

3 years ago when I made decisions that would plan the rest of my life.

I was on my third mission trip. Same place, same people, same heart. God was confirming, this was my passion. God was speaking, this was his plan, his beautiful purpose. This was wisdom in the dark. I had so much love for these people. I wanted to pour the hope that God had given me into these hearts. I was a little scared. Could I really do this for the rest of my life?

It was 2 years ago.

2 years ago when I was in Nicaragua.

2 years ago when my heart was healed.

2 years ago when joy radiated from my face.

I was on my fifth mission trip. New place, New people, Changed heart. I was where I was passionate. I was sharing the Gospel freely. I was loving children who didn't speak my language. I was laughing with friends. I was joyful in ways I had never been. For the first time I believed without a shadow of doubt this hope I was giving to hearts. My God is good. My God is faithful. My God is beautiful.

It was 1 year ago.

1 year ago when I was unsteady.

1 year ago when I was on the brink of new decisions.

1 year ago when God gained my complete trust.

I was on my first summer in 4 years where I wasn't on a mission trip. I was a little uneasy and a little unsteady. God was taking me into the unknown for the first time. I was going to be a student, I was going to invest in passions I wasn't sure could be developed. I was trusting God FOR EVERYTHING.

It is today.

Today I am amazed.

Today I am in awe.

Today I have open hands.

Today I'm not on a mission trip. But I am on a mission field. I have been wrestling with this small verse in the middle of 1 Corinthians that can change it all. Paul is talking to the Corinthians about their idolatry and their legalism. They were so bound by the rules or on the opposite side of the spectrum and no caring about rules at all. There was disunity. And in the midst of a passage where Paul surrenders his rights to not following certain rules, that he says this, 

"In the same way, the Lord commanded that those who proclaim the Gospel should get their living by the Gospel."

The word living is Zao in Greek. A form of the Greek word Zoe. This is what Jesus talks about when he gives abundant life. Not the life of your mortality, but the life of you living life to the fullest.

Those who proclaim the Gospel should get their abundant living from the Gospel.

Today I get my Zao from the Gospel. It is hard to be the only source of light in a dark workplace. It is hard to write papers and take tests and study. It is hard to be so busy. But my source of consolation through it all is that CHRIST is my center. GOD holds it all. THE LORD directs my path. JESUS saved my soul. the SPIRIT dwells within me. HE is my good news. He is my Gospel. And this is what I will proclaim during school, during work, during my day to day.

Next year I don't know where I'll be.

10 years from now, I can't even dream of what my future will be.

50 years from now, I pray that I look back in AWE, in HOPE, and in utter gratitude.

50 years from now, I hope I look back and say, "I proclaimed the Gospel and because of that, I got my abundant life from the Gospel."

a different kind of kingdom: part one

"I'm going to need you to put a flat lid on this," said the lady to whom I just handed her iced coffee.

"I put the dome lid on because there is a little bit of extra ice in there and I didn't want to make a mess out of your drink." I explained.

"I don't care. No one else makes my drink like this. Put a flat lid on! Are you new here?" Her insults spewed from her lips faster than I could have even corrected the mistake.

Taking her drink back, I removed the dome lid and put a flat lid on. Just as I expected the drink overflowed, down the sides of the cup and onto the top of the lid. I proceeded to wipe off the sides of the drink and handed it back to her.

Obviously getting more upset, "This drink is a MESS!"

"Yes, that is why I put the dome lid on it."

The next few minutes proceeded on like this. Her being over-dramatic about a meaningless situation and me being a little bit more snarky than I should have been. As my co-worker remade her drink, conviction settled. I was unkind and I knew it. The Holy Spirit began to probe my heart.

As my co-worker handed her the new drink, I approached the woman and apologized for my attitude and my mistake. She looked up at me with unkind eyes and said, "You aren't sorry! You were incredibly rude!"

~~~~

First, we'll get the obvious out of the way. How quickly that could have been avoided if people did not live as if they were entitled to their way all the time and always being right.

But the more important idea I want to talk about is this:

After the ordeal and as I baffled at my ability to get upset so quickly, God spoke so clearly to my heart, reminding me of the words I had read earlier in Ephesians. "Be kind to everyone, Leah."

"But God! I don't want to be kind, she was so unkind to me!"

"Be kind to everyone."

That was all. It was as easy as that. How was it fair that she could be so unkind to me and I am called to turn the other cheek? How is it fair that she can walk all over me and God tells me to love her anyway?

It's because I am called to a different Kingdom, a different life, i have been made new. 

I have been studying the book of Ephesians and it is radically all about the Gospel. Ephesians 1 describes who God is and what He has done and the praise that He deserves because of His glory. It is that who HE is has made me who I am. Ephesians 2 reminds us what we were. And you were dead in your trespasses. Once during youth group in high school, my youth pastor was preaching and all of us were in a circle and he told us to imagine a dead person was in the middle of that circle. That person was dead. They were lifeless, without breath, without hope, without choice. That image sticks with me when I remember who I was. I was a child of wrath, I was devoted to destruction.
In the transitional pivot in Ephesians it says
BUT GOD...
because of his great love he adopted us into a new Kingdom, a new household.
In Ephesians 3, he tells us that this Gospel is for everyone. Everyone is invited to be a member of God's household. He prays then, that we being rooted and grounded in love would have the strength to comprehend this incredible truth.
Ephesians 4 brings the commands, the guidebook by which we live. Therefore... be humble... gentle..speak truth...no longer walk as Gentiles...put off your old self...be renewed...in true righteousness and holiness... put away falsehood..do not sin...no corrupting talk...do not grieve the holy spirit... be kind to one another... forgiving one another...

If i read that list, the list of commands, requests and sins, fully by itself. I would become irritated and frustrated. No, I don't want to be kind to the customer that tells me I'm dumb, or my boss that has the incredible ability to make others feel like they are nothing. No I don't want to gentle and humble to my sister that claws for my attention. I don't want to forgive those people. On my own.

But when I read those commands within the context of God telling me who He is, reminding me of how worthy HE is and how HE deserves nothing less than my entire heart. When I remember what HE saved me from, how HE put breath in my dry bones and adopted me from a child of wrath to a child of HIS. When I am reminded that HE gave this gift to everyone, including the unkind customers, my prideful boss and my annoying sister, I can turn the other cheek in LOVE. Because it is then that I turn my eyes from the situation and see HIM. When I read those commands in that context, my heart is free to follow them. I will be humble because Christ was humble, I will speak truth because that is all that is given to me. I will walk in the newness of LIFE because that is what God has given me. I will be kind and forgive because that is who HE has called me too.

No, those commands don't always seem fair. But I am now a stranger to this world. I live in a different kingdom and a different household. I serve a beautiful, wonderful, indescribable God and when He says, "Leah, be kind." I will turn the other cheek and I will be kind with his grace, his love, his heart.

"So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are fellow citizens with the saints and members of the household of God, built on the foundation of the apostles and prophets, Christ Jesus being the cornerstone, in whom the whole structure, being joined together, grows into a holy temple in the Lord. In him you also are being built together into a dwelling place for God by the Spirit."
Ephesians 2:19-22

Beauty of Struggle

There it was. The beauty of vulnerability in the struggle. The stunning light of community shining through as we saw her tears. The moment was so vivid, so real, it captured my soul.
It began with a simple question, "How are you doing?" But in the midst of this genuine question, our friend felt the safety of being real. The honesty that community brings. And it was that moment that made me understand everything that God has been teaching me.

About two months ago now, one of my friends told me about her struggle. A deeply lonely year, financial struggles, and a discontentment that we can all understand. She said, "Leah, why do bad things happen to good people?" In a joking matter, she laughed and said she was going to cry herself to sleep. The words quickly formed on the tip of my tongue and I almost said these dangerous words that would have ruined everything. "It's going to be okay, God will provide for you."

These are both unbelievably true statements. But the timing of these phrases was wrong. If those words would have flown from my flippant tongue, I'm sure the depth and the realness of the moment would have been shattered. It would have been like glass falling in a quiet room. An awkwardness would have settled.

Instead, I said something different. I affirmed her pain and her struggle. I think in doing so, I was invited into a journey I would have missed if I had covered her pain with a Christian bandaid.

This was the beginning of a journey for me. On the flipside, I felt like my life was going well. I am loving school, I have a good job with wonderful co-workers. My car is running efficiently. My life is beautiful. I am in a completely different place than I was last year at this time. Last year, I was still unsure of where I wanted to be, what I wanted to do, and I experienced a loneliness that shook me to my core. But my relationship with Jesus was thriving. I struggled with him and wrestled with him and I relied on him for everything. Somewhere in the transition from struggle to thriving, my relationship with God went from thriving to struggle.

Why is it that prosperity pushes us far from God? Prosperity screams a Gospel that is not accurate. It tells us that struggle is wrong, it whispers to the depth of our souls that we have to hold it all together. And even when it is going well, nothing can be wrong, nothing can be off. A facade is built. It says, "I'm fine. Jesus and I are great. My life is perfect."

Under that facade, though, I think is a struggle that is even more real. It is a struggle against pride and a struggle that tells me I don't need Jesus. It quenches the deepest of my thirsts with superficial, temporary fixes and I still come up searching for Living Water.

In the beauty of struggle, I see Jesus. Last year, even though my prayers consistently contained cries and fears, I met Jesus in ways I never have before. He was here with me within the deep struggle. I saw Jesus even when I wanted to let go. I see Jesus in my friend who is serving as a missionary struggling to learn the language, but thriving. I see Jesus in my friend who cannot understand why bad things are happening to her, but she is holding on to him. I see Jesus in my friend who lets tears fall down her face and tells me that it's been hard and she is trying to trust God but the world is telling her so many different messages, but in her vulnerability, I see Christ shining through.

The struggle is hard. The struggle stretches us beyond what we feel we are capable of enduring. The struggle often makes us want to let go of everything we live for because it is challenging. The struggle pushes us to Jesus. In our struggle, we realize that there is nothing else that we can hold onto. So I'll be honest, I'm struggling to hold onto Jesus in this season of prosperity, but as I look to him and see he is the greatest good, the purest love, the most wonderful companion, my doubts fade and my thirst for Him grows. And I know that in this struggle, I will meet him because he promises that when you seek him, you will find him.  

the garments of righteousness.

We stepped into the room and immediately felt out of place. In this tiny Church on a small island on the coast of Nicaragua, in this room full of 100 people, all of them were wearing white. Every single person in the pew was dressed in white from head to toe. Except for us. We were wearing t-shirts that probably resembled the rainbow. Suddenly, we did not belong. Suddenly we were unworthy.

I imagine this might be what it feels like entering heaven and realizing that in all your righteous deeds, you were never washed clean. In all your servings and musings you never let God wash you white as snow.

How tragic that in this season of Easter we still try to cover ourselves up with righteous deeds? We go to church, we say the prayers, we sing the songs. But where are our hearts?

I don't know about you, but it is impossibly difficult for me to to just let Jesus' blood wash me clean. There are two sides of the spectrum for me. On one side, I work really hard. I do all the right things and I say all the right words. But my heart is a mask and I hide what is truly inside. But in my efforts to cover up my sin, I devise my own white garments, and in their off-set white, hope that no one else will notice.

On the other side, I run. I avoid Jesus. Because I know I'm not worthy and I know I will not measure up. I am afraid He will look at me and declare the words, "Guilty." He will look and see my off-set white garment and know he didn't give it to me. Maybe, though, he will tell me I am not worth a garment of his. What if He says, "You do not belong."

It is true, ALL of my deeds are filthy rags. ALL of my works, good and bad, do not measure up. We will NEVER be righteous in his eyes by our own. Isaiah says it best. "We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment. We all fade like a leaf, and our iniquities, like the wind, take us away."

A polluted garment. An unclean rag. Something that would have been used to birth a child, or clean the dead. Not just our sins are compared to this, but our righteous deeds. The things we bring to Jesus and say, "Look! Look at what I have done for you! Look at what I have done to advance your kingdom! Look how many times I did my quiet time this week Jesus. Look, do you see how righteous I am?"

Our righteous deeds are worthy of destruction. Our righteous deeds are stained by our sin and our pride. Our righteous deeds are unclean. 

We feel defeated then. In our society that tells us to do everything we can to measure up, we fall short. We fail. We are hopeless. We are the ones in that room that think we have done enough, but everyone else is wearing white like snow, and we are wearing our own version of righteousness and it smacks us in the face declaring, we are unworthy.

Romans 3:24-26
For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a propitiation by his blood, to be received by faith. This was to show God's righteousness because in his divine forbearance he had passed over former sins. It was to show his righteousness at the present time so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus. 

It takes us back to the cross. It takes us to the feet of Jesus. The only one who was unworthy to face the death that he faced for us. The Only one who is worthy to step into Yahweh's presence. He is the ONLY one. But out of his great love for us, he took the cross. He was beaten unrecognizable. Mocked to humiliation. His garments ripped from his body, only to show us perfect righteousness. He is the only one that ever felt what it truly means to be abandoned. Even then, He did it in love for you.

God's words in Isaiah read, "come now, let us reason together though your sins are like scarlet, they will be white as snow."

Take your off-set white rags off and let Jesus adorn you in garments white as snow. Let his blood wash away all your sins this Easter season. Don't let his death be in vain. Stop trying to make yourself worthy, when it is Jesus that makes you worthy.  That tiny Church in Nicaragua gave me a forever picture of what it means to stand before Jesus realizing that my deeds are not enough. But his are, and he covers me.

Rest in this fact alone today that because of his death 2000 years ago, you can live, you are clean. You are white as snow.

When I Said I Would Follow You...

Rumors had been spreading quickly around the land. John the Baptist had been the talk as of late. He had gone around proclaiming that the Kingdom of God was near! Repent and be baptized! It was strange, Israel hadn't had a prophet in over 500 years. The times had been in upheaval. Years ago Herod had called for all the children and babies to be killed so he could overthrow a King before he even arose. But John had been arrested. There was a new man proclaiming the Kingdom of God. Except the rumors stated that He spoke with more authority and that he was more gentle yet more commanding than anyone they had ever met. It was said that his name was Jesus. 

This was the topic for discussion the evening before their boats were rocked. Simon and Andrew, James and John were fishing on the Sea of Galilee just as they did every evening. It hadn't been a good night. The fish were not biting, it was like they scattered to the bottom of the ocean, just to avoid bringing prosperity to these four men. How grateful they were that they didn't have children of their own to return to empty handed.

They saw a mysterious man by the shore who was lingering near them, glancing at their nets, gazing into their eyes. They knew in that moment it was the man that rumors were being spread about. It was Jesus. He said, "Follow me and I will make you fishers of men." They didn't even have time to think because the authority in his voice and the gentleness in his eyes summoned them out of complacency and they came. 

How were these four men to know how Jesus would turn not only their boats upside down but their world? Do you think that in that moment they had known the places that Jesus would take them? The truths he would reveal? The hearts he would heal?

Or what about the trial? Do you think they knew that ultimately Jesus would be mocked, arrested and crucified? Or that there was the threat of those same things for them? 

Did they know they would be advocates for the biggest religion in the world? Did they know they would be the first converts of heart change?

There was no way these men could have known. 

Their choice to follow him reflects a decision of a five-year-old when in their simplistic minds they tell Jesus they want to follow him. Maybe their reasonings consist of being saved from Hell or this is what their parents say is best, but they still choose to follow him and the commitment must be strengthened with time. 

I could go on for hours about the many stories in the Gospels of Jesus discipling these men. Giving his heart and his love to these men. They were there for it all. His teachings, his parables, the healings, exorcisms, and love. 

They had heard it all. When he said, "Foxes have holes and birds have nests but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head."
"I am sending you out as sheep in the midst of wolves, so be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. Beware or men, for they will deliver you over to courts and flog you in their synagogues, and you will be dragged before governors and kings for my sake, to bear witness before them and the Gentiles. When they deliver you over, do not be anxious how you are to speak or what you are to say, for what you are to say will be given to you in that house."

They knew the cost and still when it came time for Jesus to be delivered over to the courts, their faith faltered and for a moment, they questioned if they had made the right decision all those years ago when they left everything comfortable and sure.

How could they forget? Maybe this sounds all too familiar.

 We know the cost of following Jesus. We prayed that prayer in our childhood that saved us from Hell, and we rededicated our lives at summer camp and retreats when things didn't seem to be going well. 

But there came a point when we had to choose Jesus for real. Maybe it was a point of surrender when you finally gave it all to Jesus and said, "You can have me." Maybe it was a heart heavy with grief and you finally realized that his burden was easy and his yoke was light.  Maybe you were drowning  in sin and you realized he was your only redemption. But you came to a point when you gave Jesus everything. 

But hard things come into our lives. Death, sickness, divorce, heartbreak, financial burdens, cars get destroyed, our bodies wear out. And our initial surrender is tested. Will we follow Jesus even when it is hard? This is completely opposite of the prosperity Gospel where if I give Jesus my life, He will give me a nice house, a great car and lots of money. This is opposite of what we see on Christian movies where if I surrender the things I'm holding onto I'll get what I want: my marriage will be restored, my spouse will ask for forgiveness, my barrenness will be rectified, I will be debt free, and my relationships will be peaceful. This is even opposite of most of our churches that we attend on Sunday wearing our best, acting our best, painting the most convincing act. We come to see a show, filled with the very best actresses and actors and when we go home our lives are vastly different. Don't we know that Church is supposed to be a hospital for the broken? A place to disciple and love each other well?

If you read the Gospels this is exactly the opposite of what Jesus promises to his disciples! He promises hardship and homelessness. He guarantees persecution and being poorly treated. And He still calls them, and us, to proclaim the Kingdom of God! He says, "Yes, this is going to be harder than you could ever imagine. This is going to take you places that you would never go on your own. Your heart will be broken again and again, but behold, I am with you wherever you go." 

When I gave my life to Jesus when I was five and I prayed a simple prayer that invited Jesus into my heart to save me from Hell. 

And I don't know if my heart was ready to give God my everything when I was 12 and I rededicated my life to God because fear wrecked my life and nothing was stable.

But I think it was a start.

When God took me out of the chaos for one year to get to know him better and we took a walk through the neighborhoods behind my house and I counted the cost of following Jesus, I discovered joy. I walked through those streets and joy flooded my heart and I gave my heart fully to Jesus. Not just to live inside, but to transform and wreck and change and heal.
When I said I would follow Jesus to the ends of the earth, to the greatest joys and the deepest hurts, I didn't know He would take me here. 

Following you isn't easy. Often I would much rather follow adventure, my heart, and happiness. How misleading these fleeting pleasures. Because when I said I would follow you, it was for better or worse. Richer or poorer. In sickness and in health. To love and to cherish forever.

Following Him has taught me adventure and love. Following Him has been the hardest thing I have ever done and will ever do. But it is also the most rewarding, most wonderful and beautiful thing I could have ever requested. This is not a place I would have ever placed myself. I have glamorized the mission field in my heart because I loved the adventure and I loved the beauty of the cultures. But my temporary adventures on the mission field were also incredibly hard. I wept for children who might never hear the Gospel again despite the words we had spoken. I watched a mother train her daughter to worship a god. The child stretched herself out on the ground, face down, in front of a stone. There was nothing I could do. This mission field was hard. 

The mission field is hard. Every day I go to Starbucks and there is a call on my life to be a witness to my co-workers, to share the great hope that I have. The question is raised as the Lord whispers to my heart, "Who will go for me?" 

When I said I would follow Jesus, I didn't think my mission field would be the backrooms of Starbucks or the campus of a Christian college or teenage girls in my small group at youth group who oftentimes don't seem to care. But when I said I would follow Jesus, I said I would follow HIM. So I will choose to follow him to the places he wants to go. To the hearts of my co-workers, my classmates. I will choose to follow him because He is worth more. 

Like the call of those first disciples, I will follow Jesus because of who He is. Not the hard journey I'm guaranteed to walk, but because of Jesus' beautiful and unshakeable character. When I said I would follow Him, I meant it. 

Light and Momentary Afflictions

For this LIGHT and MOMENTARY affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory BEYOND all comparison.

This is light. This affliction, this pain, this loneliness, this fear. This is light. 

This is momentary. This struggle, this fight, this battle. This is momentary. 

This affliction that has you pressed against this wall, this affliction that is quickly resembling an ocean with waves high above your head, and you never did master the art of swimming,

this affliction is light. 

This perplexing situation that keeps you up late at night as you desperately try to figure out what the world means, this perplexing situation that wrecks your brain and your heart,

this perplexity is light.

This persecution that shames you and mocks you and hurts you. This persecution that tortures you and crushes you and causes you to fear.

This persecution is momentary.

This fall that has got you entwined in brokenness and sadness and depression. This fall that has struck you down and leaves you buried under the layers upon layers of tragedy and ruins.

This fall is momentary.

We do not lose heart because this LIGHT and MOMENTARY affliction is 

NOT WORTH COMPARING.

Your weakness cannot be compared to his strength.

Your sadness cannot be compared this his joy.

Your mortality cannot be compared to his eternity.

Like dishwater in contrast to the Caribbean,

dirt against the snow,

light mirroring the dark,

flying instead of walking,

heat contrasted to cold.

They are not worth comparing. 

These afflictions, death and cancer and sickness and tragedy. It is not worthy of comparison.

These heartbreaks, when your mom dies, your child gets sick, your body wracked with pain.

It does not compare.

This absolute longing, for your family to be restored, for your heart to be healed, for the waiting to finally end. This absolute longing IS WORTH IT.

Because this pain is meaningful.

This pain is preparing you for a weight of glory that is beyond comparison. This pain is preparing you for Jesus. I promise it is worth it. 

The redemption we seek will not take place here on earth. This restoration we hope for will not be fulfilled here. It is worth it because the promise is greater than I can ever imagine. The promise is the that Jesus will restore my heart, my family, my life IN HEAVEN. He is my inheritance, and HE is the eternal life I have to look forward too.

On earth, these afflictions may not end.

On earth, it may always hurt,

on earth, restoration may never arise.

But He is still good. 

But in heaven, 

in heaven,

 there is an eternal weight of glory.

For this LIGHT and MOMENTARY affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory BEYOND all comparison. 

(2 Corinthians 4)

places of abundance.

Shout for joy to God, all the earth;

sing for the glory of his name;

give to him glorious praise!

Give to God glorious praise. He is deserving of my worship and of my glorious praise. He is worth all of the crowns and all of the glory and all of the hurts and all of the sorrows and fears.

 

Come and see what God has done;

he is awesome in his deeds toward the children of man.

He is awesome in his deeds. Come and see what my God has done. David, your praise that you lavish upon our Lord, sometimes puts me at loss. David, I long for what you have. I long for the reckless abandon for the Lord that you have.

 

For you O God, have tested us;

You have tried us as silver is tried.

You brought us into the net;

you laid a crushing burden on our backs;

you let men ride over our heads,

we went through fire and through water;

yet you have brought us out to a place of abundance.

You have tested me. I walked through the fires of affliction, unscathed. I have doggy paddled through high waters. I did not drown. I felt weak with burdens upon my shoulders, but you carried them. As silver is tried, you tried me, so that the steadfastness of my faith would be proven. The waters were deep, the fire was heat I've never known.

 

and yet,

 

yet,

 

you have brought us out to a place of abundance.

 

 yet,

 

he has brought me into an abundant place.

 

no, it isn't always sunny. yes, sometimes the snow swirls intensely and it is cold and there is a blizzard raging around my heart. But there is so much beauty because I see Him within the blizzard. He is the snow that falls gently, just as he is the sun that melts slowly. He is good to me. Because the place of abundance is not my circumstance, it is my relationship with him that keeps me steady. This abundant place is not financial security, peaceful relationships or my car running well. This abundant place is the adventure I get to embark on in knowing the Lord. It is the trust I place in the One who has always been faithful. It is the love I have for the One that I still have yet to see. It is the immense grace He gives me day after day to follow His call on my life. This abundant place is right next to Jesus.

 

David, I understand. I understand your praise to the One who was your abundant place in the midst of persecution and hardship. You praise the Lord not because men are at your every side seeking your death, not because you are sleeping in caves but because the Lord has given you grace and love and stability to keep on persevering. David, you took your eyes off of the world and saw God and everything else grew strangely dim. I am learning.

 

 Come and fear, all you who fear God, 

and I will tell you what He has done for my soul. 

I cried to him with my mouth,

and high praise was on my tongue.

If I had cherished iniquity in my heart,

the Lord would not have listened.

But truly God has listened,

he has attended to the voice of my prayer.

Blessed be God,

because he has not rejected my prayer

or removed his steadfast love from me!

*passages from Psalm 66

king of my heart.

From external appearances, things were perfect.
Internally, my heart is a battle ground. Jesus, in all his splendor, tells me he is faithful and true. Control grabs at my heart telling me I'm the only one that maintains it well.
Comfort tells me I deserve more then what I am given.
My desires quickly turn into rights, which leaves me hopelessly dissatisfied.
And Jesus faded away.
Because my eyes were on the prize and not on his face.
But things were fine. I was okay. 

The Spirit began his word of convicting as He always does
and we started to sing, "Hosanna, Hosanna, Hosanna in the Highest!"

As we sang praises to our Lord, I was assaulted with a vision of praise that took place 2,000 years before.

There was a large crowd of people, it was the heart of the city. The usual sounds of the city surrounded. Friends jubilantly greeting friends. Trades happening. A normal setting for a week before the annual celebration of Passover. 

Jesus borrowed a donkey and rode into the city. 
As the people saw him coming a peculiar state of worship washed over them. It was as if in that moment, many saw him for what he truly was. The King of the Jews, the Redeemer, The Savior. 
The moment must have been wonderful. As they turned from making daily food purchases, their hearts filled with gratitude and relief. The people threw off their cloaks to make a royal carpet for the King. They ran to the trees and took branches to lay at his feet. Words filled their mouths, "Hosanna to the son of David! Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord! Hosanna! Peace in heaven and glory in the highest."

Then I saw myself in the story, I was not one in the crowd. I was sitting on a throne. I had a crown on my head and I was in control.  I was basking in the rule of my own life. Then I heard the people singing, loudly and jubilantly. Why were they singing?

Then I saw him. In one moment, I saw his beauty and his splendor. I saw his perfect deeds and I saw his miracles. I remembered who He was in my life. Shame washed over me. I was wearing his crown. I was sitting on his throne. Immediately, I was face on the ground. I could not bear to look up at him. How could He accept me now? When I had deliberately stolen his glory? When I had seen two warring desires in my heart and chosen my desires for comfort and control instead of surrendered trust in Him. My knuckles were so white, holding so tightly onto things that never even belonged to me.
 
How often do I rob him of his Kingship, terrified that He won't act on my behalf? How often do I push Him off the throne that is rightfully His, claiming that I know best?
How many times has He looked at me with grace-filled eyes telling me He still loves him? Telling me I'm still His? Telling me I'm worth something. 

My King is a good, steadfast ruler. He sees beyond my demands for power as cries for help. Because hidden beneath our carefully constructed masks of control are pleas for mercy as everything we know to be true slips from our fingertips and we want someone bigger than ourselves to hold it tight. Hidden behind my pride that  makes me believe I'm something big, is a frightened child that isn't sure she's really worth anything.

Here I stand once again, clinging tightly to rights that don't even belong to me, and a crown that doesn't fit my head and I fall to my knees.

Because when I see Jesus riding through the crowds on a donkey as all the people shout "HOSANNA!" I cannot look up. The putrid stench of my sin is unbearable in his sight. This sin of autonomy and elevated pride has stood in the way once again. And I cannot bear to look up to His illuminating light. The dusty corners of my life are brought into light in His presence and my sin is too much for me to bear.

He comes though. And he looks me in the eye, and just his touch is burning away the shame in me. He sits on the throne that is rightfully his. As I wait for my punishment, I look up and only see everlasting forgiveness and a stunning love. 

In my trembling act of surrender, I met the Lord.
He is not a God who will settle to be my personal genie granting my every wish.
He is not a God who is distant and uncaring.
He is a jealous fire, who pursues relentlessly. In our whoring of other gods, he comes for our hearts.
He does not settle. He demands everything, my entire heart. He does not just want a room, he wants the whole house, even the dusty corners.
I've had enough of making Jesus my boyfriend because He is my Lord, King of my heart, and if I ever make him anything less, I am in the wrong.

Hosanna, Jesus is worthy of my praise. Hosanna in the highest! He is King of kings and Lord of lords.