seek the Kingdom.

I was sitting, cross-legged, on the floor by a dirty brick wall. (It’s funny...my favorite place to spend time with God is sitting on the floor. I just think it’s incredible that God would care enough to personalize a picture for me so well with something that means so much to me.) I was sitting there with my arms resting on my knees and my hands came together, resting gently, one on top of the other, almost like they were cupped. As I was praying, something (aqueous, I assume) began to pour into my cupped hands. Right when it was about to overflow, it stopped. I sat there holding what was given to me as if it was the most precious, fragile thing I had ever held. I was excited to see what God was going to next, hoping that He would start pouring into me again and it would begin to overflow, spilling over the edge of my cupped hands. But, instead, God spoke. 

“Pour it out here.” 

Suddenly, I heard the sound of people weeping. I couldn’t see any of them, but I heard them. A whole chorus of broken voices. 

And I pleaded with God, “But this is for me! This is mine! You gave this to ME! Why should I get rid of it?” 

And God spoke again, “Pour it out.” 

My hands started trembling and tears rolled down my face. Though I didn’t utter the words, the question that was really plaguing me was clear: “But what happens if I become empty? What then?”. God was silent. I sat there, immobile, lost in the cries that surrounded me, trying to decide if obedience was really worth losing what I had received. With trembling hands, I began to pour it out, not all of it, but some. 

“Pour it out over here now.” 

Again, I decided to obey and poured out just a bit more. This happened several times until I had only a small amount left in my hands. God gave the command again, and again, I pleaded.

“Pour it out.” 

“But then I’ll be completely empty.” 

“Pour it out.” 

“But I won’t have anything left!” 

“Pour it out.”

“But are you going to fill me up again?” 

Silence. Somehow I knew that had to trust Him and poured out what was left. The crying stopped. Though I was presently empty, I was flooded with peace. 

After a few minutes of silence, something began to pour into my hands and I smiled as a single tear rolled down my cheek. 

This picture didn't make sense until I read Matthew 6:33 and now I can’t read that verse without remembering this picture.  Too often I get sucked into making this life about me and my personal relationship with God. And that's great! God so delights in the simpliest attempts at meeting with Him. But seeking the Kingdom is beyond me and my comfort zone. 

Sometimes, seeking the Kingdom means pouring out what God has given me, even without the promise of being refilled. 

the meeting place.

     She lived a normal life. She was as standard as eleven year olds come. There was nothing significantly special about her. She lived in a fairly small village just west of Chicago. Her family was rather wealthy; in fact, she grew up without want. She lived in the biggest house in the entire county, which was strategically placed on a hill for all to see. 

One afternoon, she peered outside her window. From that spot on the hill, she could see, for what seemed like to her eleven year old eyes, miles. She scanned the scene before her. It was such a beautiful view. She loved to gaze across the town and take in everything: the small bakery on the corner, the jolly mailman who walked up and down the street with a smile on his face, and old “Freckle”, the firehouse Dalmatian who rarely did much of anything. This time, however, something caught her eye that she had never seen before. She pushed her face to the window and squinted her eyes, but she could not make out what was before her. 

Knowing that she needed a better look, she grabbed her jacket and sprinted out the front door. She ran down the hill in the direction of the mystery spot, stopping only once to avoid being hit by a car traveling perpendicular to her course. As she got closer, she slowed and finally stopped. Breathing heavily, her eyes focused on the spot. 

It was a garden, but not just any garden. It was, in fact, the most beautiful garden she had ever seen. She had never seen such an array of colors. Pinks, purples, and yellows blended together on the left side of the garden. On the right, there were deep blue orchids scattered throughout patch after patch of brilliant orange roses. Towards the back, there were countless types of flowers with colors that she had never imagined. The grass screamed the most vivid shade of green that there ever was and each blade was trimmed to the perfect height. Up through the center of the garden was a quaint little brick path which widened into a small patio. There, a lone bench sat peacefully under of the shade of the only oak tree in the whole garden. A pristine white fence framed the garden, providing an elegant contrast from the glorious blooms. The entrance to the garden was a lovely little gate on which hung a brass colored plaque with writing on it, but she could not make out what it said. Curiously, the gate was slightly ajar. 

“This garden,” she thought as she sighed, “is truly a perfect garden.” 

She continued to search the garden with her eyes, taking in every angle and every bloom. Since the gate was partially open, she thought about stepping inside for a closer look. Suddenly, something startled her. A budding bush began to shake and she quickly realized that she was not the only person there; in fact, the gardener had been in the garden the entire time. She wondered why she had not noticed him before. 

The gardener was a curious man. He wore bluish grey pants, a short sleeved shirt of the same color, and a brown belt, which provided the only form of differentiation between the two articles of clothing. His arms were splotched with green dye from pruning the flowers and his knees were covered with dirt. On his head, he wore an old, tattered, red baseball cap which had been bleached by excessive exposure to the sun. His face was not seen, as he was on his hands and knees, busily working away with his bush. 

She watched him for a while, intrigued by his movements. She had never seen a gardener who worked so diligently and carefully, almost as if this garden was of the utmost importance. She thought back to her own gardener, a scary old man who was rather ignorant of anything going on around him. She immediately assumed that this gardener would be the same and decided that he was not worth her time. She would not speak to him; she would watch him in silence.

Soon, she realized that she had been standing there for almost an hour and decided to head home. As she walked up the hill towards her house, she could not help but look over her shoulder to catch another glimpse of the garden. Even from afar, it was breathtaking. 

Day after day, she came to visit the garden. She would sit in the same spot, which was inches way from the fence. She did not dare go any closer as she was afraid that the gardener would yell at her and accuse her of trespassing, even though the gate was, as it was every day, ajar. She would wait and watch the gardener tend to the flowers. She was fascinated by how gently the gardener moved and how carefully he held each blossom, like each petal held some sort of importance and worth. She often heard him hum as he worked; his sweet, deep voice echoed softly through the garden. 

Today, as she sat and watched, something felt different, though she could not figure out what it was. The gardener was busy working when he suddenly looked up at her. This was the first time he had ever made eye contact with her. She felt afraid that he was going to shoo her away and tell her to never come back. 

As she was contemplating her apparent lecture and dismissal, his voice interrupted her thoughts.

“Peyton.” he said softly as he rose from where he knelt. 

She was startled. Fear swept over her, but in the same instant that it appeared, it vanished. 

“How did he know my name?” she thought. “We have never spoken.”

He walked toward her and, for the first time, she saw his face. He was an older man and his face glowed as the sun highlighted a thin layer of sweat, evidence of his dedication. The black and white stubble around his mouth and cheeks wrinkled as his lips curled into a warming smile. 

“Hello, Peyton,” he greeted as he reached the fence. 

She jumped to her feet. Though the fence stood between her and the gardener, she stepped back, distancing herself from the garden. She was prepared to flee, but for some reason, she could not look away. His warm gaze captivated her. 

“How did you know my name?” she whispered.

The gardener chuckled. He shifted his gaze to the rose bush beside him. As gently as she had ever seen him move, he cupped the most gorgeous Latin Lady rose with his hands. He gently lowered his head to the rose and breathed in its fragrance. 

“Mmmm,” he exhaled, “there is nothing quite like this.”

He stood and his gaze returned to the girl. 

“Would you like to come in?” he asked, gesturing to the world of flowers around him.

She really wanted to go into the garden, but she could not bare the thought of how damaging her presence might be. What if she broke something? What if she messed something up? What if the garden was forever marred by her footprint in the grass? The garden was too beautiful to take any chances. She could not risk it. Furthermore, she did not want to upset the owner of the garden, whoever he or she may be. 

“No, I shouldn’t.” she said and then quickly added, “Maybe tomorrow.” 

The gardener did not ask her again. Instead, he suggested that she sit back down where she was before, while he sat down right where he had been standing. He asked her questions and she told him about her school and her family. They laughed and joked. There was something so welcoming about the way he was interested in her life. She wanted to tell him everything. 

After about an hour, she stood to leave.

“Wait, Peyton,” he pleaded, “I have something for you.”

The gardener stood and cupped the same Latin Lady rose that he had smelled before. As gently as he could, he broke the stem. 

“Why did you do that? Are you crazy?” she demanded.

She could not believe that he would ruin such a perfect rose. Much to her surprise, he extended the rose to her. 

“Here. I want you to have this.” he said.

Without taking her eyes off of the gardener, she accepted the rose. As he pulled his hand away, she noticed the fresh cuts and small scars that covered his hand. She realized the blood and sweat that went into preparing this peaceful paradise. The thought of his dedication to this garden almost made her weep. Why was it so important to him? She did not think that this garden belonged to him, but she was not certain, since she still had not seen what was written on the plaque on the gate. Slowly, she pulled the rose to her face and took a deep breath. It smelled more beautiful than she believed anything could smell.

“Thank you,” she managed to say weakly. “This is beautiful, but won’t you get in trouble for giving me this rose?”

“Well,” he began, “I think it will be okay.”

“Who owns this garden?” she asked.

“Oh, it’s for someone special,” he answered.

She really wanted to know who’s name appeared on the plaque, but since the gardener never pressed her for answers, she decided that she would drop the issue. She clutched the rose in her small hands and turned to go.

“Good-bye, Peyton,” he said with a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Sure enough, they met the next day and the day after that. The days turned into weeks; the weeks bled into months. Each time, they would sit on their side of the fence, her on the outside and him in the garden. Each time, the gardener would invite her to step inside the garden.

“No, I shouldn’t. Maybe tomorrow.” was her response.

At the end of each day, she would leave with a new rose. She would head up the hill for home and glance back to view the garden one more time. Every day, she would wonder what it would be like to step inside of the garden and experience the beauty. However, she never once set foot in the garden. She never smelled the bouquet of fragrances that wafted into the air from the flowers or basked in the shade of the great oak tree. She never once noticed the name which was written on the plaque on the front gate.

“Peyton.”

fears, failures, and dragon heads

In 4 months from today, I will be walking across a stage in front of thousands of people to receive my B.S. degree in Accounting. I know, right? I can’t believe it either. It just doesn’t feel like I’ve been in college for almost 4 years. They always tell you to enjoy it while you can because it goes by so fast, but I didn’t believe them. But it’s so true. It goes by SO fast, and now that I feel like time is running out, I’ve started thinking about all of the things that I wish I could have done. Have I had any impact at all? I wish I had more time because I don’t feel ready. I don’t feel like I’m ready to leave school, part from my friends, and enter the “real world”. 

The “real world”. Whoa. I have always had a problem with trying something new. I guess you could say that I’m fearful. What if I fail? What if I’m not as good as I thought? What if I don’t measure up? Failure has a tendency to scare me. A lot. And because of this fear, I could miss out on many opportunities to find joy and happiness. 

I remember going to the local carnival when I was 4 or 5 years old. My brother wanted to ride the little dragon roller coaster...you know the one: the front has a giant scary dragon head, the dragon tail is the caboose, and it just goes in around in a small circle. There’s not much to the ride, just some minor turbulence that may require a quick visit with a chiropractor. I didn’t want to go near the thing, much less on it, but my parents wanted me to ride it. I was so scared. I cried, screamed, and embarrassed my parents (yesss) all in a matter of seconds. [Now, I need to inform you that I most definitely wasn’t the child that screamed and cried when I didn’t get my way (you know, like the annoying brats at Walmart), however, when it came to something that scared me, I became pretty vocal.] Nevertheless, my parents made me ride the thing AND I LOVED IT! They couldn’t keep me off of it! I had to ride again and again and again! From then on, I couldn’t wait for the carnival to come to town so that I could ride my favorite ride...the little dragon roller coaster. 

From riding horses to singing my first solo, a small “push” was required for me to attempt such things. I’m thankful that my parents made me do some things that I was too afraid to try because I thought I would fail. I don’t like the unknown. And if I’m looking at something for the first time, chances are that I’m going to observe and analyze every angle or outcome before I just jump into something, which can be a good thing...sometimes. Sometimes, it’s a hindrance. 

But honestly, the real problem lies not in failure itself, but in my interpretation of the definition of success. Success is not the absence of failure. If success is solely based on one’s performance or achievement, then they can only be “successful” to the extent of their own abilities. However, I have come to realize that success should not be based in ability, but in identity. As sons and daughters of the Most High, who are loved and cherished by Him, we are designed with purpose. And because we are loved by God and we love Him in return, we are successful. Simple as that.

Can you imagine how you would respond in a new experience if you entered it already knowing that you were successful? Would that change anything for you? It sure has for me. Failure is no longer something that I regret or avoid, but rather, it’s become something that I embrace. I learn more through failure than I do success. Failure does not have the power to craft my identity. No matter how many times I fail, I am successful because my Father loves me. Failure and success are co-existent; what matters is the effect that you allow them to have on the way you live your life. 

The thing that you must come to realize is that God is not discouraged by your failure. He already knows how often and how badly you are going to fail throughout your lifetime. But He’s not going anywhere. There is nothing that you can do to make Him stop loving you. (Romans 8:38-39) But you must trust Him. Trust what He’s doing and trust when and where He calls you. One thing I know for sure: GOD WILL NEVER FAIL YOU. He can’t. And His plans for your life are better than you could ever dream. (Ephesians 3:20) 

Life is too short to live aimlessly. Confront your fears and embrace your purpose. 

Be obnoxious. 

Breathe passion. 

Live fearlessly.

"it's not time."

I’m a senior. In college. what?

In exactly 6 short months from tomorrow (ha), I’ll be walking across the platform in front of my classmates, closest friends, and family. What a crazy thought. Can you imagine? Me: a college graduate. wow. 

It’s funny (but not really) how different my life is at this point from what I had always imagined. I never thought I would live in Gabrielle my senior year. I never dreamed of getting a degree in accounting, or anything related to business. I thought I would have gone on a missions trip by now. I thought I would be engaged by now, or dating someone seriously, at the very least. ha...that hasn’t happened. I’ve been single for...well, let’s see....uh...yeah, goin’ on 22 years now. Yep.

Through some of the books that I’ve been reading for my senior paper class, I’ve been forced to ask myself what I want out of life. Of course, I’ve always had dreams, but this is the time when those distant fantasies could possibly be within reach. Though some of my passions or dreams have changed over the years, there are three that have continued to grow with intensity: getting married, worship, and missions or some type of ministry. 

Side note: All three of these passions are interconnected. My desire is to do worship and missions with my husband. There is nothing more beautiful to me than a husband and wife that lead worship together.  

For years now, actually since I was 10 and told my parents that I wanted to be a missionary, when anyone mentions anything about missions, I get really excited and my spirit begins to churn. I have always wanted to be apart of missions and take the Gospel where it’s never been. In chapel a few weeks back, there was a lot of talk about missions and I got really really excited. I had been praying about going on a mission trip with my school this summer. I remember just sitting there thinking that maybe this was the year that I would be released to go. And that’s when I heard God speak to me.

“It’s not time.” 

Dang. I feel like these words are the 3 worst words to ever hear. Sometimes, a “no” from God is much easier to swallow than a “not yet”. It’s like a 3 year old little kid and Christmas. You know those awful aunts who send the Christmas present weeks or months in advance and the tag says “Don’t open until Christmas.” A 3 year old doesn’t have a concept of time. 2 weeks feels like 14 years and 2 weeks. In my mind, it would almost be better to not have a gift at all. 

I’m that 3 year old. And it’s so hard. Especially since I’m almost out of school and I want so badly to know what God has for me. I feel like I have 1/7th of a map and I’m expected to figure out where I’m going. I feel lost. But just the other day, right when I was struggling with making decisions, God spoke to me something so simple. “I have found you.” My immediate reaction was well duh, but it sunk much deeper. Now matter how lost I feel, God has never lost me. He has never misplaced a single thing in my life. He hasn’t lost my purpose. And it went even further...maybe it’s not my job to figure out where my life is going. Maybe my job is to trust Him and patiently wait for His timing.

Proverbs 16:9 “We make our plans, but the Lord determines our steps.”

So, I just wanted to take a moment to encourage you. None of us have life planned out. None of us have the whole map. You’re not alone. You aren’t lost. God has found you! Trust Him with the “not yet”. Keep holding onto Him and seeking Him above everything else and know that He has never let go of you. Trust Him. His timing is perfect...and so are His gifts. Part of the adventure is the excitement and anticipation of what the gift holds inside. 

Keep waiting for Him...because Christmas is right around the corner :)

until everything went white.

"May 25th, 2012

3:07am

When I woke up this morning, I had no idea that I would be on my way to the Mexican boarder. Early today, or yesterday rather, after a quick conversation with my brother, I volunteered to accompany him and my father on a trip through the night to Del Rio, Texas. And here we are in...actually I have no idea where we are. We passed Dallas some time ago, but I haven’t really been paying attention to the road signs. My brother has been driving for 5 consecutive hours as my dad sleeps in the back seat and I just sit here in the passenger seat. I’m sooo tired. I’ve been up for 20 hours now. But no matter how tired I get, I won’t fall asleep. I can’t.

FLASHBACK...

I was 12 years old. My mom, siblings, and I were driving in our light blue Windstar to Washington D.C. to visit my aunt’s family. By the time we reached Indianapolis, it was about 3pm and some of us had drifted off to sleep. I was sitting in the passenger seat, coloring in a Justice League coloring book with my new set of gel pens. Out of nowhere, my mom yelled “Dear Jesus!!!” and I looked up at her and then straight ahead, just in time to see the back end of a Jeep Cherokee get increasingly closer...50 feet...25 feet...10 feet...until it was the only thing you could see out the windshield...until everything went white.

I don’t remember the actual crash. I remember every detail leading up to impact: the model and type of the vehicle, which color gel pen I was using, the Adventures in Odyssey episode to which we were listening. And I remember everything after the crash: my mom trying to guide our totaled van to the shoulder of the interstate, the screams that erupted from my 2 year old sister as she had just been rudely awakened (to say the least), the sting of the air bag “powder” on my arms, and the taste of blood in my mouth. But for some reason, I can’t remember the crash itself. 

Later, we discovered the reason for the crash, which was neither the fault of my mother nor the driver that we hit. It didn’t really dawn on me how intense this accident was until a policeman asked who was in the front seat and then asked “Why are you alive?”. Apparently, when a vehicle moving 75mph smashes into one that’s going considerably slower, no one is supposed to survive, much less come out of it unscathed. Everyone involved was completely fine. I didn’t even have burns on my arms from the air bag. Ok, I bit my tongue in all the excitement, but that was it. Crazy, right? No...it was God.

I had nightmares of the crash for a few months following, but I always woke up right before impact. Slowly, the nightmares went away. For awhile, I blamed myself. If only I wasn’t looking down and not paying attention, maybe I would have noticed that we were going a lot faster than the other car, and maybe I could have warned my mom or said something as she was preparing to change lanes and looked over her shoulder to check her blindspot. By doing so, she inadvertently created another. Maybe I could have been the eyes that she needed, that we all needed.” 

NINE YEARS LATER...

...and I’m still affected by what happened that day. I can’t fall asleep in the passenger seat. No matter how hard I try or how tired I get, I can’t do it. I guess I feel like I have to be alert and help keep the driver awake and focused. Friends have noticed that when they roar up behind some car, like at a stoplight or something, I tense up. Actually, I dig my right foot into the floor, as if pushing on the break, like I’m trying to stop what I couldn’t before, but still to no avail. I’m not fearful of cars. I’m not afraid to let someone else drive. I trust other drivers. However, for some reason, I still feel like our safety is partly my responsibility. As the driver is busy controlling the direction and momentum of the car, I could be a lookout for danger, detours, and drunk drivers. And that’s what I do. I’ve seen first hand what can happen, and now I do my best to try to control the outcome. 

And that’s my point...I desire control. Now, I am not a controlling person; I don’t have to be in charge and or have my own way. I just like structure. It works for me.

I think that’s one of the reasons why I get frustrated with God and His plans. When I look at God, I don’t see structure. To consider God structured would in fact confine Him to my simple human knowledge of Who He is, which He, undoubtedly, surpasses. No, when I look at God, I see an unlimited God Who makes the broken WHOLE, the sinner REDEEMED, the dead ALIVE, the impossible POSSIBLE. God is God and He operates beyond what we can comprehend or predict. And that’s scary.

And this is the reason why so many (or maybe it’s just me) struggle with trusting God, because I can’t even begin to know what to expect. I want control, yet God wants the exact opposite...He asks for surrender. 

It’s so hard not knowing where I’m going. I look around at the people that have come before me and the people who are with me now, and they seem to have everything together. They know where they’re going, so why can’t I? It’s also difficult to watch as others receive what they want when they want it. Sometimes I feel as though others received what was intended for me. Why is mine taking so long? God, where are we going (direction) and when will we get there (momentum)? 

Yet even in all of this, God has shown Himself faithful. God has left me with peace (John 14:27). God promises to give us His peace, peace that passes all understanding (Philippians 4:7). I’ve always viewed this Scripture to mean that God’s peace is so overwhelming that it is unexplainable. But today, I also feel that it means that God’s peace COVERS all that is UNEXPLAINABLE. 

So, this is where I’m at right now. I know I’ve talked a lot about trusting God; I guess I do that because it’s something that I wrestle with daily. Everyday I have to hand over the keys. Everyday I remind myself that I am surrendered to God, and that it’s not my responsibility to control what happens. God’s got this. God’s got me. I may have to endure several days or years of not knowing what God’s got in store, but I know one thing, God’s got me. And there’s nowhere else I’d rather be. 

I think it’s about time that I just let go...and fall asleep in the passenger seat.

only darkness remains.

I grew up in church. Heck, I practically lived at church. My parents were associate/worship pastors up until I was 12...and that’s when they became the senior pastors. I went to my church’s private school for 7 years. When I was 14, I got involved, heading up an 8-12 year olds small group, leading worship every other Sunday, running the projector and sound booth on the days I wasn’t leading, and assisting with the nursery 2 times a month. As a PK (pastor’s kid, for those of you who are not familiar with church abbreviations), I was also the “guinea pig” of anything new that they wanted to implement for the youth. Therefore, I’ve taken 3 1-year long leadership courses, Catechism, and a course for new believers (which I took 11 years late). But even in all of this - the training, the discipleship, the foundation - there was something that was missed. Something that I needed desperately.

I am so thankful for my foundation, for my parents’ teaching and training, for God’s grace and 2nd/3rd/4th+ chances! God is my rock! Matthew 7:25 says that “[t]hough the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won’t collapse, because it is built on rock.” I love this verse. It gives me hope. 

For a moment, let’s be realistic. A house built on rock withstands massive winds, rains, floods, etc...but I grew up in Missouri...and a sturdy foundation is still subject to the devastating blows of a tornado. 

I never learned about darkness...my darkness. 

I am so in love with God! I have a real, deep, personal relationship with my Creator. Everywhere I turn, I see Him. I stand on His promises. I believe in His goodness. I know that He loves me! God has spoken to me so many times, whether through thoughts, pictures, dreams, and even songs. I know God, yet I’m desperate to know Him more! I’m surrendered to Him and I’m excited to see all of the plans that He has for my life!

But then there are times of darkness. It’s not really darkness, but I don’t know how else to describe it. It doesn’t matter how long I pray, I’m answered with silence. I feel alone, forsaken even. Life feels on the verge of being completely hopeless. I feel distant from God. I start to wonder what I’ve done to cause this separation. I start begging God to speak to me. I can’t pray without crying. And what’s worse is that I can’t talk to anyone about it because then they’ll look down on me, wonder what I could have possibly done for God to push me away, tell me I’m not as strong as they thought, and walk away from me, banishing me to my darkness. Only darkness remains. And all I can do is weep.

I was never warned of this season. I’ve been to many church services, but none of them prepared me for this. I’ve heard the sermons about how “darkness hates the light”, “darkness is the absence of light”, and “there’s a light at the end of this tunnel”, but nothing about how I would get these feelings of hopelessness. No one talked about it, so I thought that I was the only one who experienced this.  

But David did. I love King David. He isn’t necessarily my favorite character in the Bible, but he’s definitely in the top 5. David is pretty cool. David had it all: the sandals of a shepherd and the scandals of a celebrity. David is famous for his starring role in the story of “David and Goliath”. Even people who aren’t Christians know of that great feat. David is also known for his horrible mistake involving adultery and murder. And yet this same David is known for being “the man after God’s own heart”. It’s crazy how God loves to use those who have messed up. I mean, just look at David. We still love David. He’s famous in most Christian circles. His songs and poems are still used to being praise to God and to comfort the weary and the broken. 

Read Psalm 88. I randomly stumbled onto it just the other day. It’s dark and sorrowful, but it brought me hope. I don’t know if David actually wrote this or not, but regardless, this passage talks about the same things I’ve mentioned above. The author even likens himself to being dead. The psalm ends with a poetic depiction of how he feels. “Your fierce anger has overwhelmed me. Your terrors have cut me off. They swirl around me like floodwaters all day long. They have encircled me completely. You have taken away my companions and loved one; only darkness remains.” 

I am currently in this season of darkness. It has happened before and it most assuredly will happen again. I don’t know why it happens; I’m not in control here. But I’m learning to find joy in the silence. I’m learning to trust God with everything that I am. I am only writing this to you now because I feel that this is something that we need to talk about. It happens, so we should embrace it, not cover it up. It’s ok to go through this season.

The next time you feel like you’re in this kind of darkness, here are some things that might be helpful:

1. You are not alone. Whether you were warned about the times when God is silent or not, everyone experiences it. Talk to somebody about it. Tell them what’s going on and ask them to pray with you and keep you accountable. Friends, we’re here to support each other, not hinder. We need to build each other up, not tear ourselves apart! Open up. Get honest with God, with yourself, and with someone you trust who can support you. 
2. You are not a target. God isn’t out to get you or punish you for something you’ve done or didn’t do. You don’t need to feel ashamed or less worthy or whatever lie the devil is trying to feed you. Spit it out! Taste and see that the Lord is good! This could be a test. This could be God giving you a chance to act on what He has already told you. God can instruct and teach you as much as He wants, but it’s YOU who has to choose to be obedient. Are you ready to step out of the boat?
3. This is a season. You’re not stuck here, though it may very well feel like you are. 
4. Keep pressing on. Listen to Relient K’s “Pressing On” if that will help motivate you. Don’t give up! Continue to read your Bible and pray. Do all of the things that you normally do. I’m not saying that you have to, but I’ve found that it can be helpful to fast during this time. 
5. God’s got your back. Always remember that no matter how distant God feels, He has never left you. Just because He isn’t speaking to you doesn’t mean that He’s not there. 
6. God is a good God. Repeat it daily if you need to, write it on your mirror. God is good. Just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean that God isn’t good. Recall the times in your life when God revealed Himself to you. Think about how God has showered you with His grace and protection. Think of all of the times that God carried you. God is good, my friend. God IS good.

The darkness always comes before the dawn. Take heart. The sun is rising.

the blank page

As I sit here, trying to contemplate what I’m gonna do with my life, I stare at a blank page. Words just don’t come when I think about my future. I can’t help but wonder if this is a sign, if this is all my future will ever be: a blank page. Maybe I actually die early or Jesus comes back before my life really begins. But surely there has to be something written on the page. Right? 

I get rather irritated when people ask me what I’m going to do after graduation. I know that they only ask because they are interested in my life and truly care about me, but sometimes that’s not how I view it. It’s like it becomes one more thing that reminds me of my cluelessness and my lack of direction. If I respond with “I don’t know”, they pry. “Are you going to start working right away? Grad school? Are you ever going to get married?” Yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious. Do they really think that I haven’t thought about all of this? That I don’t wrestle with these unanswered questions every day? If I knew the answer, I would have told you the first time. 

I’ve spent countless nights, crying, begging God to show me something, just one step. I keep telling myself that He isn’t telling me because it’s not time, which I truly believe. God knows me so well, and He knows that if He reveals something to me, I’ll charge forward, full steam, even if it’s out of season. 

I know that I’ve said before that I don’t have to know the plans, that I’m fine with letting God bear that burden and I’m trusting Him...which is much easier blogged about then applied. I have trusted, I am trusting, but I can’t shake this desire for answers that’s gnawing on my very being. Am I just supposed to ignore it? I started thinking that maybe my continual asking was a sign that I wasn’t really trusting, but I don’t think that’s true. I think God wants me to ask, to plead with Him about revealing His plans for my life because it’s an act of surrender, a statement showing that I desire His very best for me and nothing else, nothing less. 

I woke up this morning thinking about Jeremiah 29:11 “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord. ‘Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” My immediate thought was, Oh goody. Good for you, God. How exactly does this help me? I still haven’t a clue. And you know? I still kinda feel this way even now, but something else hit me. This isn’t the complete promise. Verse 11 is just the beginning, while verses 12-14 are the best part. “In those days when you pray, I will listen. If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find Me. I will be found by you.” 

And now I have peace again. Yes, the page is still blank, but that’s when I have to remind myself that I’m not the Author and I’m not holding the pen.

God, my search is after You alone. I am not seeking the plans, but I’m seeking after You, the One Who formed the plans and holds them, along with me, next to Your heart. I want to find You. Give me strength, God. Let me not be overwhelmed and plagued by the unknown. I’m not afraid of the plans that You have for my life.

senseless love.

I love boxes. In fact, I love any sort of organizational instrument that helps keep my life appear less cluttered. I have a compartment for everything: responsibilities, my job, friends and relationships, dreams, today, Jesus, etc. I guess I like being able to label where things go by category and how they work. Some are categorized by order of importance or by how much time is involved. Once things are where I want them, I close the lid and place the box on my shelf, until one of the contents is needed.

The more I read my Bible, the more I realize that I don’t know Who God is. I think I do, but when it comes down to it, the cold hard truth is that I have put God in my little box of pre-determined ideas. Like, I want to know God, but only to the extent and context of what I already believe. I know that God is Love, so I slap a label on Him and tuck Him away, never really allowing myself to experience and explore the depths of His un-quenching passion and love for me, simply because I feel content just to know. 

God isn’t meant to be kept in a box, yet He is willing to stay. This is something else that I don’t understand. God is all-powerful; the heavens tremble when He speaks. He is Creator; I am here and have life simply because He spoke. He holds the balance of life and death in the palm of His hand. He could easily speak a flame-thrower into existence and melt down the sides of the box, or maybe just teleport out of it, or use some sort of forcefield. But He doesn’t. He desires my heart so much that He is willing to humble Himself and sit in my box until I’m ready to open it. Who does that?

I asked some friends of mine how they would describe God’s love using only one word. They came up with a whole bunch of great descriptions: ”powerful”, ”fierce”, ”passionate” but the only thing that I can think of is “senseless”. There is no reason why God should love me, why He should pursue me. It doesn’t make sense that He would die for me even before He knew my love. It’s beyond what I am able to comprehend in my logical, natural thought. In fact, it’s totally absurd.

~Ephesians 3:18,19~

“And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to fully understand.”

~Romans 5:8~

“But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”

I’m tired of being content (a.k.a. complacent) with this kind of relationship. I want to have the same kind of senseless love for God that He has for me. 

The lid is off. God, I’m not afraid to love You. I don’t want to just know that You love me, though I am thankful for the knowledge. But I want to experience Your love to the fullest extent that I can handle. Tear down my ideas, my limitations, my pre-conceived notions of Who You are. Reveal Yourself to me. Shatter the box.  

trust issues and directionally challenged-ness

“There are so many times when I feel absolutely...useless. Tonight is one of those nights. You know when you sit around wondering what life might be like if you [insert something awesome here]? Like, what would I be doing if I wasn’t in school right now? Well, I would still be in my hometown, probably working with the youth there. In fact, I would be a “youth pastor” of sorts, leading worship and having some sort of ministry to help young ladies find their identity in Christ. I would have gone to Germany or Switzerland for 6 months with YWAM (Youth With A Mission). I would have witnessed to someone and discipled them. These are the opportunities that I gave up to pursue an eduction. Why am I here? 

I really hate the “What if..?” question. Frankly, I hate the unknown. I like to be in the know. I search until I find answers. But sometimes, the answers aren’t supposed to be found, at least, not right when I want them. And that really frustrates me. I like to have things figured out. I enjoying planning how things are supposed to work. 

Why am I here? I know that I only have bits and pieces of God’s plan for my life, but this has got to be quite the puzzle! 150,000 pieces at least! I feel like nothing makes sense. I have puzzle pieces with a redish tint on them and then I have some with blues and purples and others that are just plain white. What’s going on, God? Where does it all fit? Why do I have such a passion for the brokenhearted? Where does my heart for young women fit in with accounting? When will I have time to write my books and my music? When do I get to move to Africa?

Nothing makes sense, God.” 

I wrote this rant based on a war that was raging inside of me just this past week. At church this morning, the pastor didn’t really have a sermon; in fact, he spoke about his life story and how he got to be where he is today. He talked about how sometimes we can’t see the road ahead of us, we have pieces of information, but not the whole picture. He talked about how he got a business degree from the very school that I attend, and then God gave him a passion to bring healing to broken people and led him to a degree in counseling and other theological studies. He shared about how he questioned God and His direction and wondered why God let him get a business degree when he would be pastoring and counseling. But God has used everything that man has been through, every experience, every passion and gift.

Then, the pastor looked out over the crowd and said “God has you where He wants you. You are where you are so that you can grow and develop the character that He wants you to have. Everything will come together. God will use what you have experienced and will place right where He wants you. Continue to trust God.”

I’ve never been more grateful to hear a message than I was today. I knew that this message was for me. As a current business major, his story brought so much comfort to me. My heart rejoiced and it’s like, for the first time I realized that God knows what He is doing with me. I’ve heard this many many times and I thought I believed it, but today, it hit home. I was reminded that this “plan” that I’m following isn’t even mine to begin with, it’s God’s. Every passion that I have is based out of the passionate heart of the Father, MY Father. Why should I worry that these passions, HIS passions, aren’t gonna line up? It IS possible for everything to fall into place! God is...well, GOD! I almost started crying right there in the middle of the service because of the peace and the joy that overwhelmed me. I do trust God with my life and my future. I gave Him my heart 17 years ago (as of 3 days ago) and He’s held it securely. God is faithful and that is the promise upon which I will continue to stand. 

“I remain confident of this: I will see the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living. Wait for the LORD; be strong and take heart and wait for the LORD.” ~Psalm 27:13,14

There was something else that God brought to my attention today, something that I haven’t thought about in years. I was at a conference several years ago and the speaker said something very simple, yet profound. He was talking about serving God wholeheartedly. He said, “Be willing to do anything, but obedient to do everything.” As of January 22nd, 2012, this became my life motto. I don’t ever want to miss God or miss out on something that He has for me. I don’t ever want to step out His will for my life. I want to be so in tune with God that I don’t miss a single whisper of His heart. 

“He Who began a good work in you will be faithful to complete it.” ~Philippians 1:6

I know that I talk about life plans and goals and trusting God a lot, but that’s one of the major things with which I struggle and I need a constant reminder. And I’m pretty sure that I’m not alone in this. I haven’t found many people who are willing to open up about the unknown in there lives. There’s a war still raging inside of me. So, I will continue to talk about my trust issues and my directionally challenged-ness. Feel free to comment or subscribe or even unsubscribe, I don’t care what you do. But I can promise you one thing...this is gonna be a bumpy ride. You up for it? :)

prepare for the mission

Being that I am a 21 year old female, raised in a Charismatic Christian home and currently attending a Christian university, the fact that I have never gone on a mission trip might be a surprising discovery. It’s not that I am against foreign missions or have never been interested...missions are at the heart of who I am. I am just awaiting the appropriate time for me to go. I’ve heard it said many times that young people just need to go on a mission trip and become aware of other surroundings and circumstances, living conditions, religions, and brokenness. But in my opinion, don’t go if your heart’s not in it or if your heart’s not where it should be. I’m not gonna go on missions just so I can say I’ve been. I will go, but God hasn’t given me to “go-ahead” yet. I am still in the preparing stage. 

I’ve talked with several people who have been involved with mission trips and heard the extraordinary tales of how God worked and moved. It’s so incredible to hear of the ways that God showed up. In some cases, the team saw lots of spiritual manifestations and many miraculous signs and wonders. Most of them made a difference in the community in which they ministered. Lives were changed. The people received a glimpse of the hope they have so desired. 

Weeks of preparation go into getting ready for a mission trip, and seeing as I have never gone, I am unaware of the actual amount of preparation needed. I know for a fact that hours and hours of prayer are spent each day, faces to the ground, crying out for the deliverance and salvation of the country at hand. Every spare moment is spent basking in God’s presence and seeking revelation. 

But I can’t help but question...why is this kind of preparation only important for mission trips? If we truly are “in the world, not of it” (John 15:19), shouldn’t we be spending every waking moment at the feet of Jesus, ready for service? Why don’t we see the remarkable acts of God in our nation? Why is it surprising to hear that someone saw an angel in Puerto Rico? Or that someone was raised from the dead in Djioubti? Why is that unusual? 

It shouldn’t be unusual, but it is. We don’t see signs and wonders in the same way that we don’t see any of the Gifts operating in todays churches. What’s happened to prophecy? It’s not dead, but we’ve certainly wrapped it in burial clothes. What about healing? Miraculous power? Tongues and it’s interpretation?  

I want to see these things happen here, NOW, at my home, in my church, on my campus, IN MY LIFE. I want to see God move! And better yet, God WANTS to move! He’s longing to do the impossible in YOUR life. He’s waiting for the moment when He can reveal Himself in ways that we’ve never seen. PRAY! Call on the name of the Lord! Spend hours in His presence. Seek His face on behalf of YOUR nation!

Please understand that I am not dissing, or belittling, missions trips. I am continually realizing the rising desperation for prayer for the salvation of other countries. I know that there is a need. I stated earlier that I am longing to go. I’m just asking ”what if...?” I’m asking that you consider the spiritual state of your own country, of the broken people around you. I’m urging you to pray.

“If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and I will heal their land.” II Chronicles 7:14

God, you know my heart. You know that I am willing to go wherever you send me, to the ends of the earth or around the corner. Let your will be done in my life. I am Yours, no matter what. Don’t give up on my nation. Bring her back to You.