what I wish I could hear

 

What I wish someone would say to me
(and me actually believe)
You are more than what you have achieved
Do you remember when Christ set you free?
take as long as you need
can I give you a hug?
Where you are right now is not just luck
no, you don’t need makeup
I’m listening
have you prayed about it?
what is the Lord teaching you?
what do you want to do?
God is using you
call me anytime
I want to be part of your life
your scars prove that you’re alive
let’s just drive
how’s your relationship with God?
He has given you a purpose
Rejoicing is spiritual service
Christ is worthy of worship
I’m proud of you
You are enough
You are loved

These words sound so cliché
maybe you’ve heard them already today
or maybe you’re like me
longing to see the sun through the rain
to find the peace in the fray
needing truth
and if that’s you
than those are the words I would say

Open Letter

 To those that prayed the prayer,

I know you. You're the one on the pew in front of me, the one that walked into Sunday school just ahead of me, the one whose parents my parents are friends with. If I ask you for your story and you say "well, I prayed the prayer..." then I have an idea of what that means. It means you grew up knowing the answers, calling yourself a Christian, and explaining Christianity to others. It means that when I start a verse you can finish it, you can probably beat me at a sword drill and I'm sure you've been over to the pastor's house. From a very early age you were taught a sinners prayer, you heard it prayed and preached and as you grew older you prayed it too. All the right words. And you genuinely wanted what you were told Jesus offered. But you always doubted if you had it. See, I know you because I've met many of you. But before I met you I knew you because I was you. 

At an early age, I prayed the prayer. Actually- I prayed it repeatedly. In church, in bed, on my knees, in the car, hands folded, arms outstretched, with tears in my eyes- I prayed, and if I wasn't saved then it wasn't for a lack of words. I had asked the Lord to enter my heart, but wasn't sure if it had worked. I just wanted to be sure. I would pray during lightning storms and asked God to verify that I was saved by making a flash of lightning last supernaturally long. I waited for some sign to confirm what I hoped was true- that my prayers weren't just bouncing off the walls.
I watched baptisms with awe at the confidence they had and knew that I wasn't sure enough of my salvation to stand up there and testify to it.
I watched the plate bearing crackers and juice pass by me every 6 weeks because I was afraid I would eat and drink condemnation on myself for my lack of faith.
I had answers but I also had doubts and I had nowhere to turn for assurance. 

So, friend, I want to assure you that I know what it's like. I know the separation you feel from the rest of the church. I know the uncertainty and the longing to know for sure. I know the questions "what if I'm doing something wrong?" "Is God really listening?" and I'm not here to answer all your doubts nor am I here to assure you of your salvation. But can I tell how I found the assurance that I lacked for 17 years? 
I sat down at a church I hadn't been to before and looked around. I saw normal people, people not well off and with a million other things they could be doing, people with no visible reason to be at church, gathered together to worship God. You could see their love for God and one another so clearly. They genuinely had joy and peace- a kind of joy and peace that wasn't fake either. 
Looking around, I wanted to be one of them.
Everyone here was united by one thing- they loved God. That meant that if I loved God I was one of them. And I knew that I loved God, not well, but I knew I wanted to love Him more. Not only that, but I knew I could not even want to love God unless God had placed that desire in me in the first place. 

Let me back up and explain the theology here before I go further: 1. God is a holy God who hates sin and cannot accept it. 2. I am a sinner. 3. Sinners who have not been born again love their sin and therefore hate the God that condemns them for their sin. 4. A sinner of their own volition will not turn to and love a God that hates their sin and will make them hate their sin. 5. Therefore, if I- a sinner- love God and hate sin than that is the work of Christ in me. 

Each of these pieces fell into place and I looked around a second time and knew that I belonged with these people. And everywhere I go, I belong with those who love God. There was no doubt, no room for doubt, no need for doubt, I have not doubted since. My conversion was never an emotional thing, I never got that supernatural sign and didn't ever feel any different. I still don't know when I was actually saved. It doesn't matter. I am saved. For the first time ever, simply knowing the answers was enough. 

So if you've prayed the prayer and you genuinely want to know and love God- maybe that desire isn't your own but the work of Christ in you. Are you spending time doubting your salvation and waiting for lightning to strike instead of living your life certain of the saving work of the cross and in light of eternity with God?

I wondered if I would ever know for sure. Now, I know the joy and peace that comes with knowing for sure and I'm writing this to you because assurance is attainable. God is not a God of confusion, that's satan's work. Scripture tells us that if you call on the name of the Lord will be saved (Romans 10:13) and that if you confess Jesus as Lord and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead- you are saved (Romans 10:9). It's that simple. Assurance was granted to you by God through the work of His Son. Believe. If you've prayed the prayer, if you've walked Roman's road, you can have the assurance that took me so long to find. 

Sincerely, 

A Daughter of the King

The Storm

Thunder rumbles in a dark grey sky
Ground shakes on a cold brisk night
Wind ripples her hair as into the distances she stares
A storm on its way to change her life
The fear she feels isn’t rare
She has stood here hundreds of times her lungs working too hard for air
Tears beat the raindrops in the race to hit the earth
the struggle for peace is her burden because of sin’s curse
From the earth she came to the earth she will return
Between those times is a world of hurt
She takes another shaken breath
turns her mind to all the things that have happened to her
Memories stirred up like carried away leaves
faster and faster the troubled winds blow the debris
if only she could have a break from her past’s gravity
a moment out of the wind, a chance to breathe
Eyes drop to her feet planted in the dirt
Whole being longing to join it but to death she can’t revert.
Her past puts her emotions in a constant whirl
The rain that now pours down in sheets used to watch her dance in the streets
Now time has gone and she saw hope flee
the girl that had great dreams now can never sleep
Her heart aches with each new beat
Soul searching for a place to be planted but there are too many weeds
Thoughts and thunder grow louder- lightning strikes and she feels the heat
A system of worry, fear, anger- her mind is clouded from longing for relief
all she knows is a lack of peace, a constant dread that her mistakes won’t leave

No one else would choose to stand in a hurricane but this girl has no escape
so she faces the storm and waits for it to break
The storm will break or she will- either one would hurt
But in breaking each time she finds more of what her life is worth
by surviving a tsunami of emotions and pain she begins to find relief
living through these storms provides a rest she at first couldn’t believe
with each rainfall she has become a little more clean
the past slowly loosens its grip and she becomes a little more free
overcoming the trauma in her story took facing it and seeing victory
each storm on its way to change her life
shook her and scared her but began to create strength of a different type
healing is found by confronting her triggers and walking through them each time
troubled eyes full of tears can finally see hope through this fear

Thunder rumbles in a dark grey sky
another storm coming to shape her life
All she could do was remember the other storms she had been inside
and trust that someone would see her walk out the other side. 

A February Prayer

 Dear Father, 

If I know You are enough, why do I still want more? Your mercy toward me is unexplainable, so is the pain that I feel right now. The confusion in my brain drowns out my gratitude, tears me up inside and makes my emotions a hurricane. You calmed the storm so why does this wind still push hard enough to knock me over? Every wave that You walked on still towers above my head. Lord, I am in over my head.
Hands outstretched, reaching for help, I want what You offer- You promise to give grace to the humble, Father I don't think I can get any lower. You promise peace to those that trust You, I took a leap of faith and now am in a perpetual trust fall but the peace feels out of reach. You promise hope but the only anchor I seem to cling to is the sorrow that pulls me deeper and deeper and deeper, it's the steady presence in my life. God I know You're here but the pain feels more real. It feels more powerful.
My words towards others are about as honest as the conversations I've had with You recently. Do You read the words I write and take them as prayers acceptable in Your sight? Because when I look back at what I read I see Your hand in my life but when I try to pray You feel so distant. If You are near to the brokenhearted than are You sitting next to me? If You whisper in the storm than am I just deaf to the words You say?
I'm told not having answers is ok because than I'll start asking the right questions but if questioning You is wrong than where do I go with the doubts that I have? Father, You sent Your Son to die for me. I can repeat the truths of Your blessings toward me over and over and over again, but they still don't sink in. The emotions swarm and I can put it all in rhymes and metaphors but I can't overcome them no matter how hard I try, do I just stop trying? That never works Lord, You know I stay in bed all day if I do that. Is this too many questions?
Look, I have the answers You gave me in Your words but they don't take away the pain that I feel when I close the book.
People try to help but I don't want to be a project. I have a support system but I've run out of friends, I didn't mean to turn only to them. I still trust You, I just took a break from actively trusting You. People are in my life for a reason, You put them there to bless me, why do I just hurt them? Why do I choose their perceptions over Your love? Now I find myself alone because I can't just repeat to them the same problems and sound like a broken record, for the record that makes me feel broken and makes them feel like they have to fix me. Lord, I want to be fixed but people just use temporary glue and then break me further. They tell me to use the ACTS model of prayer so that I don't just repeat the same things over and over, I end up repeating things just the same but here let me try again:

Adoration: You, oh Lord, are holy, holy, holy. Your name is worthy to be praised and all creation bows a knee to You. Your grace and lovingkindness toward me are overwhelming and immeasurable. Every second is known to You before it takes place and I know You control my now. 
Confession: Father, I am the sheep that constantly goes astray, unworthy to be called Your servant. Even today I've denied You like Peter, I've betrayed You like Judas, I've run from You like Jonah. I confess my weakness and my need for You, would You forgive me and blot out my transgressions? Wash me white as snow in the blood of Your Son. 
Thanksgiving: The blessings You've given me surround me day and night. Every breath of air is a gift even when I don't want to breathe it. Every conversation, every friend, every new day is an act of Your mercy. Thank You, God. 
Supplication: Father, help me to breathe and want to breathe. Clear this smoke and give me clarity. There's pain but You know what hurt feels like. You watched Your Son get crushed for me, get crushed by me, and You did it because You loved me. Remind me of that today. Lead me, bless me, strengthen me. Be my strength. 

Father, I mean no disrespect, I mean only to feel close to You again. These walls are tired of hearing my voice, I'm tired of hearing my pleas bounce back to me from them, are You tired too? Tired of me asking these questions? Tired of my hypocrisy? Maybe that's just me. You are the God that never sleeps, You know all, see all, and are always working. If You sent Your only Son to die for me than You've never rejected a prayer or tired of me. Thanks for always listening even though I rarely do. Thank You for blessing me beyond what I can believe. Help me to see You in this darkness, to follow You and know You more every day. I trust You to see me through this pain, walk beside me in this valley and in Your name I'll see a victory. I pray these things in Your name and in the power of Your Son's blood. 
Amen. 

wait

The voice whispers in my ear exactly what I want it to, saying “hurry, take it now, the door is open just walk through it. Go, go, go, this is everything you wanted, everything you prayed for. Walk in wisdom and stop refusing to except this blessing before you, what are you waiting for?”

Emotions compel me to just move, stop overthinking and do what I know I want. The voice that whispers persists urgently, sounding like an angel. But it isn’t what it seems. When it’s mask is removed you’ll see it’s wings are torn and what’s left of it’s halo is black. You’ll stare haste full in the face and find that it wasn’t what it promised to be. It looks a lot more like an angel condemned to burn in fire with Satan along with others sentenced to the same fate in Mathew 25. Impatience sets a fire in our souls that is so tempting all we want to do is rush ahead. Yet when haste says "go" wisdom says "wait".

Wait.

I've come to strongly dislike that word. Patience is my weakness, slowing down is not my pace. Yet this last year has been full of that command.

Don’t find your own way of escape, wait for God. Don’t do anything stupid, just wait for His timing. Don’t rush into anything, wait for the right person and time. Don’t be impatient to leave, just wait. But every moment I wait the waiting gets harder. Maybe tomorrow all these thoughts will disappear and I’ll feel good again, loved, even hopeful. But what do I do when I hit rock bottom again next week and the cycle repeats? What do I do when the answers I know aren’t enough for the questions I have? When the memories of joy don’t justify the nights of pain?

In answer I hear my Father say, “come to me, follow me” and I try but my feet won’t move another step. When the emotional exhaustion leaves me frozen and numb, when the night feels too long, when all I have is empty prayers and cynical impatience, that’s when He is closest. He doesn’t shout over the noise of the storm, He leans down and whispers in my ear.

At 15 I wrote these words,
“maybe there is a beauty here
in the depth.
dark blue sadness,
like water surrounding me,
making me appreciate its color.
feeling the waves wash me clean.
there is a strange peace,
knowing He holds the oceans in His hands.
He holds me in His hands.
when the current tries to move me,
He is an anchor for my soul.
never have I felt this close
to the One that created me.”

I acknowledged then what I know to be true now: that the depth of sorrow makes me feel closer to the Man of Sorrows. That in the eerie silence of the valley of the shadow of death I can hear His voice better. So I will wait on the God who promises to renew my strength. 

Life is more complicated than politics, it’s a game of chess with words as pawns. You have to think and think ahead, strategize and reconsider and just when you think you’ve got it right a wrench is thrown in the knowledge you thought you had and you rework the scenario repeatedly in your brain just wishing you had waited a little longer. 

Time and truth go hand in hand; time will tell the truth about the wisest path in front of you.

When everything you want is right there for the taking, wait. When everything you hate is around you and you just want to run, wait. When pain seems overwhelming and you want to escape, wait. When you are enjoying a perfect moment with friends but doubt starts to creep in and confusion begins to bubble up, make it wait.

To abide in God is to pray first, to know God is to trust His timing, to imitate Him is to be logical in our thinking. Wait. Wait for the Lord. Wait for His timing. Be still and know. Say no to the temptation that haste whispers in your ear and choose the wisdom of waiting on God's timing. It's worth it. 

My Testimony

 Hi guys! I wanted to share my testimony with you this week. Quick disclaimer: my testimony is not my full story, there's a lot more that goes into it that I don't share. However, I would love for y'all to know the basics of how Jesus saved me. So this is my testimony. 

I grew up being homeschooled in a Christian home, I understood the Gospel as a kid and I repented and “prayed the prayer” multiple times. I knew my sin was wrong and I knew I wanted to belong to God, I would pray occasionally and called myself a Christian, but unfortunately, just knowing those things never really changed my heart. It wasn’t until I was 13 when I was reading a Christian book for school that I realized the full impact that knowing Christ should have on me. The book was pointing out characteristics of a Christian and when I compared these things to my sinful life I saw that it didn’t match up: I wasn’t seeking Christ. That day in January, 2016, I repented of the sin that separates me from God, put my hope in the saving work of the cross, committed to praying regularly, and devoted myself to reading God’s word and knowing Him better. 

But even after that, I still battled a lot of doubt. Every so often I would be consumed with this fear that maybe I wasn’t actually saved, that if I was really a Christian my life would look much different than it did. The thought that I couldn’t be a Christian and still struggle with the things I struggled with hit me hard. I had slipped into depression and it was the kind of darkness that made me wonder if there was light or if there is hope. I started becoming addicted to various means of escape that made my salvation a constant question for me. Life became a battle I didn’t want to fight anymore. I didn’t know why I was here I just knew I wanted it to end.
I knew Who God was, I could give you all the right answers, and on the good days I had no doubt that I was saved, but hurt and darkness would seem overwhelming sometimes and I would turn to other places to deal with them. 

During much of this time I was never open with people, I didn’t have close friends, never trusted anyone, and I concealed everything I was going through. That began to change in 2018 when I met people who started to show me how God works through our trials, my eyes were opened more and more to what it meant to hope in God and I started to grow close to other believers who helped strengthen my faith and fight beside me through my battles. In 2019 I was blessed with some great opportunities to see Christ work in me and in others and then I heard a sermon in December of last year that made me realize how simple Christianity is: I am a sinner, I could never repay the debt my sin demanded of me, I was completely dead, but in His great mercy, God chose me, loved me, and gave me hope by sending Jesus to die on a cross for me so that if I only believe I am justified and will one day stand face to face with my Father as every tear is wiped away. I haven’t doubted my salvation since then.
I know Who’s I am. 

My favorite verse for the last few years has been Galatians 2:20 which says, “I have been crucified with Christ, it is no longer I who live but Christ lives in me and this life I live now in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave Himself for me”. I wrote that verse everywhere, on sticky notes, notebooks, journals, anywhere I could because it was a constant reminder that I was saved. Yeah I still struggled with sin but He still loved me. I am not ashamed and I don’t have to be because my sins were nailed to that wooden beam where my Savior died. I am alive because of Christ. I am here because of Christ. And as I meditated on it I realized a few things, most importantly that this life isn’t mine. It’s not mine to take, to give, to waste, to use. I was crucified with Christ. He lives and I live by faith in Him. And recently, I’ve come to realize that it also means I also need to be baptized. Not because baptism plays a part in my salvation but because it’s a symbol to the world that I belong to God, I was chosen as His child. 

My journey isn’t over and I don’t know what God has planned for me, but I know that by His strength I can do what Paul commands in Hebrews 12 when he writes, “Let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.” I will run my race knowing that the battle against darkness was won when Jesus said, “it is finished” and gave the hope of salvation to all who would call on His name.
So here I am, a sinner saved by grace, chosen and loved, willing to give my every moment to the God who will wipe away every tear from our eyes.

A War Already Won

Our God is really really good. In the midst of the bad in our lives, He gives us His promises, He gives us friends, and He gives us encouragement. As I was fighting recently, a good friend of mine sent me a poem she had just written. It was the kind of thing that you read and you think, "wow, I really needed to hear that" and then read it again and again. Her words have really blessed me by reminding me Who my Savior and King is: He is the One Who has already won the war. I wanted to share these words with you this week and I hope you are encouraged through them like I was. 

This is,
"A War Already Won",
by Maggie Hayes.


I know you’re hurting.
I know this weight is crippling,
That it seems like the sin keeps winning
And that the only option is to lose.

I know why you keep hiding;
Shame you feel is gripping,
Guilt continues piling,
But please know I’ve been there too.

I know what it’s like to keep loosing,
To keep pretending,
To twist a rubber band for coping.
I’ve been abused too.

I know it’s not the same thing.
There’s difference in struggling,
But I want you to know there is a new beginning
And some really good news.

Alone, is something you are not.
Forsaken, is something you are not.
Unforgivable, is something you are not.
Unworthy, is something you are not.

Someone went through complete abandon so you may not be alone.
You don’t get to sit here in self pity because of what you have done, someone has given you an opportunity to live.
Choose life.
Someone was completely forsaken so that you may be known.
I know this thought might be scary, and give you an uneasy feeling, but it’s so sweet to be known by Someone who cares.
To not have to carry this burden of cares.
Someone who says, “come. Come. come. Lay down your sin I will set you free. My burden is easy. Please take it instead and I will carry all this weight in your head.”
You’re completely known.
Someone was beaten, crucified, and buried so you may be forgiven. Come confess and let go.
Someone is rest to the weary soul.
Someone doesn’t grow tired of us coming and asking to be forgiven no matter how far we’ve strayed. But in the end our debt is paid because that Someone who was beaten, crucified, and buried rose from that grave. Paying the debt we deserved.
You’re forgiven.
Someone Worthy died in your place.
You are priceless and redeemed,
seen as spotless before the King so there’s no more reason for shame.
Live life a son or daughter of the Someone who saw you and said,
“You’re worth it.”

I know you are fighting.
And like me, possibly losing,
But we can come carrying
All the weight and lay it down
At the feet of Jesus our Savior and King.

what am i?

we are not even worthy to be crushed beneath His feet but He walked the earth and left us as a footprint, an image of Himself. this was the genesis of our race, from dust but for a glorious purpose.

what am i to deny Him the glory He deserves? yet i turn again and again away from the King that gave me life. what am i to hope for anything beyond punishment for my fallen state?

what am i that God would create a glorious paradox for me? that on the cross, justice would meet mercy? what am i that when You rose from the grave it was my name on Your lips? You said those 30+ years were worth it if just i believe. You said it was worth it for me.

what am i to be "hidden in Christ" as though sin were nothing more than the villain in a giant game of hide and seek and i already safe in a heavenly peace that conceals me from view?

what am i that i am set apart to be raised up in the twinkling of an eye at the last trumpet sound? my flesh will finally die and i will be raised up to what is imperishable.

paradise was lost but it will be regained when even the lost bow a knee before our returning king. what am i to get to look forward to witnessing that? what am i that the God who created the rock that would travel the world and end up at a factory which makes it into plastic that becomes the pen i write with, what am i that that God would notice me? the God that created the stars and commanded them seven years ago to send out light to illuminate the sky on a wonderfilled night in Kansas so that a girl would look up and see His love for her, what am i that that God would choose me, love me, save me?

what am i to question God? yet even David, the man after God's own heart, wrote out laments, wrote out prayers, wrote out his desperate questions in the dark. we are allowed to express our doubt to Him, loudly we can question where He is and why He won't take away the pain. what are we to be allowed to do that without getting struck down immediately? but He still gives grace and leans down in the middle of a storm to whisper replies to our shouts.

holiness strikes fear so deep we would never run to our Maker but He ran His race for us, throwing aside the sin that entangles us He nailed our separation from God to the cross and across the world His last words, "It is finished" have brought hope to creatures such as i.

Created. Fallen. Forgiven. Saved. Hopeful.

this is what i am. loved with a crazy love i can't understand. i am but dust, a frail weak frame known fully from birth. i am but a sinner, loved and called. a footprint of a perfect God, i was created from dust for a glorious purpose.

The Story of Four Girls

Dear readers, this post is quite a bit longer because it contains a four different stories. All of these girls are fictional characters with invented struggles that I think are relatable to everyone. I hope it encourages you and brings you hope in your trials.



Cameron:

One foot in front of the other. Take it five minutes at a time. Just keep pushing on, persevere, there is a prize worth fighting for. Cameron repeated the words over and over in her head. A prize worth fighting for. She was told she could make it through this “rough spot”. Only, no one seemed to understand that the rough spot had lasted seven years. In Lamentations, Jeremiah wrote about forgetting what happiness was like. Cameron could relate. Just like Joseph in the prison, she waited in darkness for some glimpse of hope. She had heard all the analogies: she was a sword being beat to perfection, a boat in a storm with an anchor that would never fail, a runner in a race, a climber on a mountain, a diamond being formed, a soldier in a battle. All of the analogies were there to give her hope. For Cameron though, they sounded nice but still left her empty and desperate. She blamed it on her impatience, part of her personality that made her hate delayed gratification. Though she had worked on patience her whole life, it seemed she was stuck with her personality. That personality told her that seven years was too long to wait for a real laugh. Too long to fake a smile.
Emotions kept attacking her and she was ready to be done with this war. The most recent blow had struck this evening and it had brought Cameron to her knees. Thoughts swirled too quickly to interpret, but one stood out: “Enough”. She had had enough. Joseph made it out of prison, Jeremiah still wrote about hope, Paul waited it out during his arrest, but Cameron was not a Bible character or a figure in an analogy. Her armor was bent and torn, cracks evidenced all the battles she had lost despite fighting her hardest. She genuinely believed there was a prize worth fighting for. She dreamed of dying and standing before shining gates to a kingdom she could only imagine the splendor of.
Cameron believed she knew the King of heaven and His Son that had died for her. Through the last seven years of battle she had taken Biblical counseling, immersed herself in Scripture, and prayed until she ran out of words. Even though she had fought with doubt regarding her salvation, R.C. Sproul’s “Chosen By God” had convinced her of her walk with the Spirit, slow as it may be.
Now, all she wanted was to go home.
A home where she knew she was loved. Home to a place where every tear was wiped away. To die is to gain an eternity of joy. Cameron wanted it now. This “phase” of suffering had lasted too long, she had fought too hard, peace on earth was too far. Walking to the nearest bridge was easy, she had dreamed of this moment so many times that her feet moved instinctively. One foot in front of the other. Cameron hurt too much to see the hope through any means besides an impatient jump.
That night, a soldier was lost in the fray.

Catelyn:

Failure. That’s what the piece of paper she held in her hand meant. She had failed. To anyone else it would have been disappointing, to Catelyn it was devastating. Her standards were high and anything short of perfection was failure. She blamed that on her family. The mindset her parents had drilled into her still shaped her goals today even though she was almost done with her first year of college. Of course, she had never been told she had to be perfect, but it was generally understood. Her older brother had handled that expectation, he had always been exactly what their parents wanted and earned a full ride scholarship to Harvard.
For Catelyn, perfection didn’t come as naturally. Queen Elsa from Frozen became her hero and lines like, “Don’t let them in, don’t let them see, be the good girl you always have to be, conceal don’t feel, don’t let them know” became her philosophy from a young age. Her parents always stated that they were raising adults, not children, and everyone was expected to act like it. She thought back to 6th grade when she brought home a report card with a B+ and was terrified to show her parents, at least it was a B+ not a B- which she had hoped would help. They hid their disappointment well, but Catelyn was sure it was there. The next year she had started changing her grades before bringing them home. An 86% was scratched out to become a 96%. C’s turned into B’s before her parents could see them and a vertical line was added to any minus symbol. As hard as she tried, as much as she lied, it was never enough.
In her mind, she was never enough.
She had scraped her way through high school as best she could, never losing the façade she thought her parents wanted to see. Now in college, Catelyn was an excellent student and well pleased with her grades which placed her in the top of every class. Because she demanded perfection of herself, everyone around her gradually came to expect it from her. They had never seen anything less from Catelyn. By any standard, she was far above average. Now, though, all of that disappeared. This failure couldn’t be hidden. A failed test was too far from perfect for Catelyn. A failed test. She failed. Failure. Her thoughts moved logically from one conclusion to the next. She couldn’t hide this from her parents. Her brother had never failed a test. What would her peers think now that she had fallen so far below their expectations of her? She would have to redo the class which meant asking for more money from her parents since she hadn’t gotten a scholarship. How could she ever face them? She was so disappointed in herself, how could she ever be so stupid? Pondering her options, Elsa’s words again came to her mind, “A kingdom of isolation….no escape from the storm inside…conceal, don’t feel…” She was so sick of being what everyone else wanted, tired of living the isolated life of a perfect princess.
Catelyn wanted to let it go. Wanted to never fail again. Everything in her life pointed to one option, it made sense, it was justified. Failures don’t deserve a second chance and there was no other way. The fairy tale world everyone thought she had crumbled before her eyes.
Only one task was left for Catelyn, and this time she didn’t fail.

Cassidy

Her whole world was being shaken and she just wanted something to hold onto. Wave after wave of change, hardship, and tragedy struck her in endless blows that left her gasping for air. Cassidy only wanted an anchor in the storm, a rock that wouldn’t move. As she suffered, she was dimly reminded of the God she had been told of as a child who was sometimes described as a firm foundation. The people at church seemed to find stability in Him, maybe she could too. But no. That God wouldn’t have her, not like this. She couldn’t stop crying much less kneel and put together eloquent sounding words that would bend His ear. Besides that, she hadn’t been to church that week, life had gotten busy and she simply couldn’t make it.
No, she didn’t want that God.
She blamed her church for that. Of course, no one ever knew that. In church, she was the quiet girl in the back. Tired of hearing about God, tired of feeling like she knew everyone but no one knew her. If she had ever been asked her testimony the answer would have come easily, just like she had rehearsed, “Oh you know, I was raised in a Christian family and prayed the prayer at a young age, I’ve been part of a reformed church ever since”. But she was never asked. To Cassidy, that seemed normal. She didn’t think someone in a church should ever ask such a personal question, people only told their testimonies at baptisms. She was fine with not being asked just like she was fine with never having to pray out loud. Prayer didn’t come easily for her; Cassidy hated sitting perfectly still, hands folded, eyes closed, head bowed, speaking eloquent words laced with Scriptures ending in a solemn “amen”. The only prayers she really said were muttered through sobs as she lay on a mascara stained pillowcase in her room at night.
She wished God was more like the God people sang about, the Father who would stand up from His throne and open His arms as He called out her name. This God would have more love for her than there were drops in the ocean. For Cassidy, music had made her feel closer to God than any sermon or family devotion ever had. Those wishes for a God of love were drilled out of her head by a father who implied that God hated Democrats and a pastor who taught of a God that predestined some people to burn in Hell. Cassidy rejected the God she was taught about. Convinced that He would reject her, she would not run to God. Everything else had been stripped away when her world was rocked by explosions that pierced her heart. When the tears had been shed and the dust settled, Cassidy found nothing to hold on to. Her hands were empty except for the pills gathered in a pile on her palm. There was nothing left to hold on to, so she decided to let go.
The tragedy that struck her in endless blows finally ended in a last gasp for air.

Cara

180 days left. Half of a year. Cara couldn’t do it, something needed to change. She was counting down the days until she could go to college and start a new life, but it was too far and she didn’t think she could make it. She had tried her whole life to be perfect, to be who everyone else wanted to see, but she failed. Cracks had formed in the façade, her mask was slipping and that terrified her. Anything less than perfect was devastating. She blamed her family for that. Though she had been told over and over by close friends that perfection didn’t have to be her standard and even though she sometimes believed them, it was still hard to live out.
She wanted so desperately to be perfect.
She was reminded every day of how far short of that she fell. Dimly, Cara was reminded of what she truly knew and believed: that God loved those that fell short.
Her Savior loved her and defined her as priceless.
It wasn’t always easy for Cara to see that though, she blamed her rough start with God on her church. It had been so easy to pretend that she knew God for so long, she had never been asked her testimony and the picture of God she heard wasn’t always appealing to her. Prayer seemed stressful and formal, Cara couldn’t string words and Scriptures together as eloquently as everyone else. For such a long time, she simply existed on the outskirts of church, feeling pushed away and choosing to push God away. Music had changed that. When Cara learned that God’s love for her was more than the drops in the ocean and that He would stand up from His throne and open His arms as He called out her name she knew she wanted to believe in that God. She finally began to read her Bible devotedly and learned that even broken prayers, the ones she muttered through sobs while laying on a mascara stained pillowcase, were acceptable to God. Now, she believed.
Though she remained in the same church, Cara had started looking for other girls that felt as she used to and trying to help them. Her life finally had hope, she felt accepted. But even that couldn’t stop the rough moments. Those were the moments when Cara simply wanted to go home. Home to a place where every tear was wiped away. She had fought faithfully for Christ, and now was ready to quit the battle. Joseph made it out of prison, Jeremiah still wrote about hope, Paul waited it out during his arrest, but Cara didn’t want to be them, she was tired of waiting. She blamed it on her personality. Impatience was a character trait she hadn’t ever conquered, that part of her that demanded instant gratification.
Maybe she was a sword being hammered to perfection, but she was tired of that pressure. Perhaps she was a diamond being formed but Cara no longer wanted to take the heat. She was a soldier fighting in a war, but felt that it was someone else’s turn, she had won enough battles. Surely she had earned the prize by now, she wanted so desperately to see the kingdom full of splendor, light, and joy.
Cara could simply be a soldier lost in the fray. She could set only one more task before her and this time not fail. Cara could choose to let go and cease gasping for air through the pain she felt. To die is gain. Gain. To die is to gain. Paul’s words repeated themselves in her head. To die is gain. But. But to live is Christ. To live is Christ.
Thoughts swirled faster but one stood out, "Enough".
Living for Christ was enough.
She was enough to Him.
That was enough.
180 days left. Life could change completely after that, but God never would. In that half a year, she could change. Oh to learn to serve like Christ served, to teach like He taught, to love like He loved. Cara knew she would never be able to do it, but she would give everything to glorify the God that loved her in spite of her pain, scars, tears, broken prayers, and sin. So one step at a time, one day at a time, she would grow into a better little-Christ. To live is Christ. To live is to serve, love, give, glorify. There was nothing left in her life worth holding on to. So she let go and gave it all to God.
She chose life.

You know one of these four girls. Maybe even all four. They all just want someone to give them hope, show them love, and accept them. On their behalf I beg you to do that. Perhaps you are one of these girls, maybe their story resonated with you. If you’re Cameron, remember that we can find joy in running the race faithfully until God calls us home to a perfect place. Catelyn, you are not a failure, you are priceless in the eyes of God and He will accept you as you are. And Cassidy, search for the truth about God and you will find that He loves you and chose you. Cara, keep fighting for what you know about God, keep battling the struggles, keep taking life one day at a time. Choose the One Who is Life every moment of every day. 

The Moments We Fight For

Thunderstorms hit everyone.

For some, they last forever: stretching on and on, turning spring into winter and joy to sorrow and leaving us in a state of perpetual darkness. Distantly, we can remember the twilight, the last glimpses of happiness before the sun set, and anxiously we look ahead to the time when the clouds will be blown away and the skies clear. In that waiting though, we start to forget what happiness felt like. We only feel weight, rain, and wind pushing against us. We trudge forward, wanting to hope for something better but afraid of the disappointment that chills our hearts. Then one day...we see daylight. Dawn appears and rays of feeling break through our emotional numbness. We feel....different. Happy. Those memories of darkness are never far from our minds but we cling tight to the present moment and realize suddenly that this is why we kept moving forward. We walked through the winter so we could feel the sun on our skin again. And that moment when we do is amazing.

Like a firework exploding, joy finally fills every part of you again. Your soul soars higher somehow, as though a weight has been lifted from your shoulders. Chin up, you feel like you can face the world. A song on your mind and a smile on your lips, you march out to seize the day. All of a sudden, you can get out of bed easily again, you had forgotten what that was like. You look in the mirror and realize the smile on your face isn't forced. You hear your favorite song and it doesn't make you cry. When you see old friends they say you look different. Finally you can breathe again, laugh again, hope again. This is the moment you fought for. This is a moment worth fighting for.

I recently heard the trials of life described as a wave, they come in and cover us, we have to swim hard to just stay afloat as the hardships hit. Then the wave draws back. You're left on dry ground again, looking out over the water. A moment passes and then another wall of water comes at you and you go under again. The moments where you can stand on your feet are worth the ones when you are swimming for your life. That's a lot like how life is. For much of our lives, we walk in the valley of the shadow of death, telling ourselves over and over that it will be worth it when we get out, we just have to keep going. When you reach the other side and you're on the peak of a mountain it suddenly hits you that this is why you kept going. This moment, this feeling, made all of it worth it.

I don't know what part of your journey you're at right now.
Maybe the sky has just now cleared for you and your taking in the moment of relief. Perhaps you're underwater, fighting for every breath. Wherever you are, take a chance to remember all the best moments of your life, the times when you were incredibly happy and felt tremendously blessed. Cling to that feeling. Memories of those perfect times will help you get through the dark nights. The next time a taste of heaven comes, thank God for getting you through what felt like hell, thank Him for making it all worth it by renewing your joy, soak up every bit of relief you feel and just enjoy the moment.

If/When you're struggling against a storm that you don't think will end, remind yourself that joy comes in the morning, it always does. It's watching a sunset over a mountain, sitting under the stars in silence with friends, dancing your heart out with an awesome group of people, graduating in the back of a pickup truck, slow dancing to the perfect song, being with all your favorite people doing exactly the right things, it's pausing for a second and realizing that nothing could get better right now.

These are the moments we fight for.

A Real Answer

It used to be that whenever anyone asked how I was, my response was the average, well-used one that everyone expects to hear, “I’m good”. It was never a lie; just not meant the way it was said. What I really meant, and what I think is true for a lot of people when they say those words, was something like this:

I’m good at running from my problems
straight into another mess of evil.
Good at pretending I can solve them
but that’s when the confusion peaks.
I’m good at pretending to pray,
Yet I haven’t felt close to God in weeks.
I’m good at staying up all night,
man I practice that all the time.
It’s like the problems won’t even leave
long enough for me to get some sleep,
so I’m good at pacing back and forth
and staying on my feet.
I’ve gotten better at cleaning up messes,
but only after I make them.
Doing just fine at disguising my tears,
you wouldn’t believe how often I cry.
The truth is I’ve been hurting,
but I won’t ever let you know.
I’ve just been going through the motions
answering the questions like I’m supposed to
careful not to say the rest of that sentence
and let my pain show.
I’ve been good at not letting my hands shake,
hiding how much I just want to break,
playing the music extra loud,
getting lost in the words for a while.
I’ve gotten better at changing my voice
so you think I’m smiling when I answer the phone.
Doing fine at waving goodbye
so you won’t see the hurt in my eyes.
Truth is, I’ve been good at looking at people
and giving “I’m good” as a reply
but you don’t know
how many times I had to practice
standing in the mirror
and trying to hide the scar in my smile.
Sure, I’m good, but not like you think.

I’m good, I’m fine, doing well, hanging in there……all those normal responses to questions like, “how are you?” or “how have you been?” disguise a life that is far from perfect. The reality is that we are all hurting, broken sinners. And yes, we all have good weeks so our responses don’t always hide problems, but it’s still not a very descriptive answer. I used to give one of those average responses. Now, I refuse to give the answer that people are expecting to hear. I’m tired of saying the same words I said when I knew it was a lie. So I give my own response, and when you hear me answer your questions with, “I’m here”, this is what I mean:

I’m here, praise God!
He chose a place for me
to bring me joy and Him glory.
Struggling through the darkness,
I’m here searching for light.
Getting hit by the same temptations,
but still choosing to fight.
Standing here is proof
that my God is in control.
You have no clue
how many mountains had to move
for me to be here.
Maybe I don’t want to fight the next battle
perhaps I’m tired of walking forward
but right here, right now, this moment
is a victory because I’m here.
My response may be tired,
it probably has notes of reluctance,
I shrug my shoulders when I answer
yet I am still here.
Other times, this answer
contains quite a bit of fear.
Yeah, I’m here but barely.
Drowning, struggling, hurting
here I am, someone save me.
This is my cry for help
can’t you see? can you hear me?
grab my hand and pull me up.
I don’t know why
I don’t know how
I don’t know for what
but somehow I’m here.
In God’s place, moving at His pace
I’m here, Lord take and use me.
Friend, I’m here for you.
Broken ones, I’m here with you.
Fellow soldiers, I’m here beside you.
Ask how I am and you’ll get a real answer
“I’m here, how are you?”

Kursk

In August of 2000, the Russian submarine Kursk was wracked by two onboard explosions and tragically sank to the bottom of the Barrants Sea. There is controversy regarding what actually happened, but the most likely option is that one of their torpedoes was faulty and exploded on board resulting in a fire in the torpedo room that caused the second explosion. All but 23 of the original 118 crew members died in the explosions. It was five hours before the Russian navy even tried to contact the sub resting on the bottom of the sea. The crew, freezing cold and desperate for oxygen and food, weighted anxiously for rescue. Four failed attempts were made to rescue the crew. They stayed alive for at least three days, banging on the walls of the sub every hour to let the world know they were still alive. They listened to the rescue ship land and take off four times. At least two of the crew wrote letters, saying they were trapped and couldn’t get out. 

Unfortunately, they never would. 

Nine days after the explosion, divers were able to access the compartment where the 23 men had held on for as long as they could. There were no survivors.

It’s a tragic story of political failure and a myriad of mistakes. I hurt at the thought of what those men went through on the ship, waiting for rescue only to run out of time. How many of us feel like that in our lives? Desperate for help yet feeling unheard. Banging on the walls of our cage to try to escape. Hoping against hope that we can make it. Make it out. Make it out alive. Running out of air, feeling the cold seep through us, anxious and starving. The people in our life that we trusted to keep us from drowning can’t find the solutions fast enough so we are trapped.

Right now, it's easy to feel like a soldier on the Kursk. The explosions that keep hitting us leave us, our economy, our plans, and our nation sinking fast. Maybe we feel like we've hit rock bottom, hundreds of pounds of pressure keeping us stuck in our sunken world. We cry out and listen for a response but know that the world can't rescue us. The hours pass by and more plans disintegrate in the current that swept us off our feet. In this world that looks hopeless it's easy to feel ourselves beginning to sink away into the darkness of despair. But we are not a tragic story of failure and a myriad of mistakes. We are not simply the soldiers of the Kursk: we are survivors.

Christians have been given an instruction manual for every situation, one that speaks to the desperation of their circumstances yet still gives hope. For us, it is no longer a matter of waiting on others for rescue, but rather accepting the solution that has already been given. We have already been rescued. Death is behind us, not in front of us because we already died with Christ and have a new life in Him.

The One who is an anchor for our soul is with us even at this depth. Even when our tears threaten to drown us I know that He counts every one. Our world is very clearly a ship that is sinking fast, but we have everything we need for life and godliness already. Cling to it, and you will be more than a conqueror in Him Who loves you.

The puzzle of salvation

Top left corner: a quick rejection of an opinion. Brushed off like it was insignificant, so she felt insignificant.

Top right corner: a harsh word. It felt unfair, she didn’t think she deserved it but she must have since it was said so firmly.

Bottom left corner: a disinterest. No questions were asked about her. No one showed care for her thoughts, words, desires, or dreams. 

Bottom right corner: an uninterrupted stream of criticism. She can’t do anything right, or if she can, she is never told so. Nothing big is ever said about anything big, it’s the little things that slowly wear away at her soul.

And so the pieces of her life fall into place. Lines stretch across the top and bottom, connecting rejection and harsh words, disinterest and criticism. Ignored and unloved comprise the lines on the sides. Slowly, the edges of the puzzle come together. She is in the middle. Trapped by the way she was framed in, desperately trying to put the pieces together to create a more hopeful picture but it’s all so fragile she feels hopeless. Hopelessness begins to color the pieces around her, tainting them a deep shade of blue fading into black. Another fight, another piece falls into place. Another tense day, another piece falls into place. Another lost dream, and, even though she feels a hole, the reality is that a hole in the puzzle is being filled. Words like “unwanted, worthless, hurt, broken” surround her. Lie by lie the puzzle comes together, so tightly knit that truth can hardly fit between the cracks. The corners, the edges, the dark pieces, it comes together over the years. Yet as the picture of pain becomes complete, the girl's heart remains a missing piece. It doesn’t belong to this landscape of hurt. Her heart is priceless. It is kept until the day when she looks beyond the circumstances that frame her and sees a Savior. On that day, a heart of gold, filled with the light of the Spirit, will be placed in the center of the puzzle, transforming the delicate picture in a glorious image. 

To the Senior Class of 2020

It happened in one moment, but it took 12 years. They graduated high school that day. A short walk across the stage, quick smile for the camera, and the diploma became theirs. There were laughs and tears, friends and relatives, there had been months of planning and a plethora of invitations sent out. But on that day, it was over. They got that moment of pride and satisfaction, that speech that challenged them to make a difference, those hugs from loved ones that wished them well. They graduated high school with a bang.

Class of 2020, you have also worked hard for 12 years, but you may never get that moment. Last year, as juniors, you watched the senior group take a bow and toss their caps in the air, dreaming of the day when you might do the same. Now, so many of us are faced with the reality that those dreams won’t come true. There has never been a perfect graduation, but at least others get a graduation. Yeah, it feels like we are missing out due to unprecedented times. This senior class, however, might actually have something better: an opportunity. In a world full of fear, we can be the hope. In an unprecedented time we can blaze a trail forward.

Seniors, I cannot tell you anything you haven’t already heard, but I can remind you of it. You are amazing. You are strong. And with or without a graduation to prove it, you are loved. You don’t get a specific celebration, so make life your celebration. Live each day remembering your accomplishments and looking forward to the new ones. Our world is in desperate need of strong leaders. It is up to us to make a powerful change, to bring the light of Christ to bear on darkness. I challenge you to make an impact. You wont leave high school with the traditional bang, but you can make one wherever you land. Maybe they don’t know our names today, but we, class of 2020, will not be forgotten.

Therefore, I will hope in Him

Sometimes it's hard to remember that real people in real situations wrote the Bible. They were all inspired by God and every word is from Him, but they were penned by sinners who struggle, hurt, face difficult times just like we do. When I read Lamentations 3 it wasn't hard to remember that. I related with the words of Jeremiah so much that it was easy to picture what he was feeling. Jerusalem was in ruins, the people were suffering, and hope probably didn't seem realistic. I love this chapter but it's long so I pulled a few of the paragraphs to comment on.

Jeremiah 3:1-9
"I am the man who has seen affliction

under the rod of his wrath; 

he has driven and brought me

into darkness without any light;
surely against me he turns his hand
again and again the whole day long.

He has made my flesh and my skin waste away;

he has broken my bones;

he has besieged and enveloped me

with bitterness and tribulation;

he has made me dwell in darkness

like the dead of long ago.

He has walled me about so that I cannot escape;

he has made my chains heavy;

though I call and cry for help,

he shuts out my prayer;
he has blocked my ways with blocks of stones;
he has made my paths crooked."

We are all walled in right now. As plans cancel, our escape routes are cut off and we're stuck. The anxiety that comes with that is a heavy chain. We've been praying since January. At least, I have. Prayers for help, prayers for healing, prayers for hope. Prayers said over and over until I forgot why I was doing it or Who I was talking to. Prayers repeated until I forgot what talking to God was really like. Every time I would ask someone a tough question I would get told to pray about it. And I did until it got to the point where I was frustrated when people told me to pray, I wanted to scream that prayer wasn't helping, God wasn't listening, every word was being shut out and thrown back at me while all my plans were blocked with stones. Jeremiah said it for me.

3:16-18
"He has made my teeth grind on gravel,
and made me cower in ashes;
my soul is bereft of peace;
I have forgotten what happiness is;
so I say, “My endurance has perished;
so has my hope from the Lord.”

The fear makes us cower, not outwardly but nonetheless we feel it, it robs us of our peace. There is so much tragedy and pain both surrounding us and in our own lives that happiness can seem far. Have you forgotten what it is? I have memories, I remember, but it feels pretty distant right now. And persevering to it takes endurance that I don't think I have right now. At one point I know we have all been able to say that our hope has perished from the Lord. In times of trial, hope is hard to hold onto. That's why Jeremiah's next words are pretty shocking.

3:19-26
The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
his mercies never come to an end;
they are new every morning;
great is your faithfulness.
The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
“therefore I will hope in him.”

The Lord is good to those who wait for him,
to the soul who seeks him.
It is good that one should wait quietly
for the salvation of the Lord.
It is good for a man that he bear
the yoke in his youth."

This is faith. Despite how hopeless things seem, how much suffering he sees, how afflicted he feels, Jeremiah knows and can honestly say that the love of the Lord never ceases. He doesn't see how his situation is mercy, but He knows that God's mercies are new every morning. The same person who is bereft of peace and forgot what happiness is also believes that God is and will continue to be good to him. What a powerful image of hope in suffering. What an amazing display of trust despite fear.

3:37-41
"Who has spoken and it came to pass,
unless the Lord has commanded it?
Is it not from the mouth of the Most High
that good and bad come?

Why should a living man complain,
a man, about the punishment of his sins?

Let us test and examine our ways,
and return to the Lord!
Let us lift up our hearts and hands
to God in heaven."

Whatever comes to pass, it comes from the command of God. He is the chessmaster, the weaver, the stage manager, the painter, all of the analogies mean the same thing: He sees the whole picture and controls everything. So let's lift up our hands and praise Him for that. Let's examine our ways and return to the Lord. In broken prayers, worn out prayers, painful prayers, desperate prayers, let's return to Him.

3:55-60
“I called on your name, O Lord,
from the depths of the pit;
you heard my plea, ‘Do not close
your ear to my cry for help!’
You came near when I called on you;
you said, ‘Do not fear!’

“You have taken up my cause, O Lord;
you have redeemed my life.
You have seen the wrong done to me, O Lord;
judge my cause.
You have seen all their vengeance,
all their plots against me."

Where can we go to escape the presence of God? Whether we are in the midst of the fiercest storm, cast away from all of society, plunged in the center of a raging sea, or stuck in the depths of a pit, God is there. He hears. When we cry out He comes near and tells us not to fear. He isn't a silent observer, He is an active comforter. Do not fear. He has taken up our cause and will never stop fighting for us. Our life has been redeemed. This is the truth we must never let go of. Our life is His and He won't ever let anyone snatch us from His hand. God's love is steadfast, His mercies are new every morning, He is here in the midst of our struggles. That doesn't make life easy. Jeremiah still suffered and he watched his people suffer. He knew what tragedy and loss and fear are. And he isn't afraid to voice those emotions to God. His words connect with us, they feel so real because we sympathize with his hurt.
Things look dark. People are afraid. Hope feels distant. But God is faithful and His love is steadfast, therefore, I will hope in Him.