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Feasting

I went to youth group last night.
It’s been a while…and it wasn’t my youth group, and it was comprised of strangers. But, I went. I was a judge for a pumpkin carving contest. I also helped lead a brief discussion with some teenager girls. It was a little awkward.

The topic? Feasting.
What does it mean to really taste and see that the Lord is good…in conjunction with the things we actually feast upon in our day-to-day life. We talked about food. We talked about eating disorders. We talked about going from one extreme to another and forgetting balance and moderation. We talked about how this isn’t just applicable to food.

Mostly, my sister-in-law and I talked. It was a weighty subject for only a few minutes of time and when you’re a newly-introduced, temporary person… I found myself struggling in how to relate. How much do I share of my own story? How directly can I ask them questions? What can I possibly say in these fifteen minutes to establish that this is a safe place, that there’s no judgment, that there is hope?

I don’t know how successful any of my attempts with them were, but I’ve been thinking a bit more about this idea of feasting…and just how much food actually consumes us. It’s everywhere. My sister-in-law and I joked today about the commercials that attack us on television. Every other one is sending an opposite message and we’re caught in a bipolar whirlwind of seduction. It’s as though our subconscious is screaming, ‘Eat more! You’re fat! Eat more! You’re fat!’ as we go back and forth between delicious food opportunities and dieting ads.

How could we ever fully break away from the things our world tells us? How could we, when we are fully inundated by everything around us, be convinced that image doesn’t matter? Doesn’t it? Doesn’t it sometimes matter what we wear? Doesn’t it sometimes matter how much we weigh? Doesn’t it sometimes matter whether or not we fix our hair? Doesn’t it sometimes matter how active we are?

There has to be something to recognizing what ultimately matters…and still existing in the world and not being of it. We still have interviews, we still have jobs, we still have health to maintain. I think this is where moderation has to come in. I don’t think women need to feel guilty about caring about how they look. I think the problem comes when it turns into something that is obsessed over. There’s nothing wrong with looking presentable, with putting on make-up, with shedding some excess weight.

It’s when we become all-consumed with what we look like…it’s when our worth comes from how we appear to others that problems arise. It’s when we lose sight of what really matters.In the grand scheme of eternity, how we look doesn’t matter. I don’t think we can ignore that it matters here though.

It’s tricky.
It’s tricky because it requires us existing in a place of uncertainty, a place where it’s easy to waiver too far in one direction. It almost seems more straight-forward to simply abstain from anything having to do with your external appearance–because then you’re not getting sucked into temptation and obsession over how you look. How do you concern yourself far more with matters of the heart while simultaneously tending to the outside in such a way that you are not solely driven by it?

Honestly-working at a camp made it easier to avoid this struggle. In an environment where it is acceptable to roll out of bed, throw on some shorts and a t-shirt, brush my teeth and walk into the office there wasn’t as much pressure to look a certain way. Now that I’m entering the ‘real’ world, I find myself longing to live within this balance of looking good without letting it consume me. Rather than hiding behind what I’ve always known and staying away from fashion, I think I’m moving into circumstances where I’ll need to put more effort into all of it.

But, there’s a greater confidence in who I am beyond what I look like.
I hope that’s true for you, too. As you figure out for yourself what your own boundaries are in terms of how much effort you can place into your appearance without letting it become all-consuming… I pray that you don’t ever lose sight of what matters. I pray that as you dress, as you apply make-up, as you purchase new things, as you freak out about grey hairs and wrinkles and a few extra pounds… that you would remember that there is more than this.

Live, remembering what fades away.
Be in the world, but not of it.
Find moderation in the things you live too excessively in, or too absently from.

Every good and perfect gift is from above.
Taste and see that the Lord is good.
He has invited us to feast.
Shall we?

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Jesus = Your Homeboy?

...Your my Brother,Your my Friend
Your my Beginning,Your my End…


I have these visions of singing this campy/VBS-y song, partnered with someone else, pointing our finger’s into each other’s palms…then pointing to our heads and then to our bums. I’ll spare you the rest of the lyrics and motions (some of you may know them), but something rubs me the wrong way when we call Jesus our friend. 

I get it. 
I mean, Jesus (in John 15) is telling the disciples that He will now be addressing them as friends. They have moved from servant to friend, that have been chosen. No one has a greater love than this, that He would lay down His life for His friends. Most would say, that in Christ’s sacrifice, that this is now applicable to all of us. We are all His friend…with the contingency of obedience, of course–‘You are my friends if you do what I command you’.  Interesting friendship, huh? 

I’m not going to try and argue that Jesus isn’t our ‘friend’…
But, I don’t necessarily think He’s our friend in the way that we, in our modern-day world, think of friend. I don’t really think He’s just our homeboy, or our buddy. I don’t really think He’s our facebook friend. I don’t really think we should necessarily even try to teach about Jesus by using metaphors of friendship. How often have you heard, or said, that Jesus is your best friend? 

Is He? 
What does that even mean for you when you say it? 

I think when we solely talk about Jesus in relation to friendship, that we miss so much of who He is. I think it’s almost limiting. But, I think we use it because it’s more comfortable for us. It’s maybe easier to love a God who is our friend instead of our master. 

Perhaps when we talk about Jesus in terms of friendship, it helps foster an environment of guilt. I can’t even recall the number of times that I felt, because I wasn’t as excited to spend time with Jesus as I was to spend time with friends, that I was a terrible Christian. That I didn’t talk to Him as much as I did my other friends, that I didn’t do as much for Him, that I didn’t want to meet up with Him at church…. you name it. Compare your relationship to Jesus with some of your closest friends and it’s the easiest avenue to take toward guilt-city. 

Jesus is probably not my best friend….at least not in the way we typically define best friends.
But, I’m not sure if He’s supposed to be. 
Is friendship today anywhere close to what it was like for Jesus and the disciples? I highly doubt it. This role we’ve now placed Jesus into, what exactly does it mean for us? 

Does it mean He’s our confidant? Does it mean that He’s always there?
If we’re looking at the dictionary, ‘friend’ means: 
  • a person whom one knows and with whom one has a mutual bond of affection
  • a person who acts as a supporter of a cause, organization or country by giving financial or other help
  • a person who is not an enemy or who is on the same side
  • often as a polite form of address 
What do you mean when you call Jesus your friend? 
Have we reduced Jesus to t-shirts and facebook relationships and tweets? Have we turned our intimate relationship with Him into something cheap and cliche? 

He laid down His life for you. 
Blood was shed. For you. 
He is Savior. He is Healer. He is Father. He is Abba. He is Master. He is King of Kings. He is Holy. He is Love. He is Friend. It’s all-encompassing. We can’t lose sight of the fullness of who He is by limiting Him to one attribute. We can’t base our relationship with the Christ off of our earthly friendships. It’ll never work. While there are wonderful aspects of friendship which are very true of who Christ is… I wonder if we sometimes forget that He was the originator of all of them and from Him does any of that flow. Only because of Christ are we able to love, trust, be loyal and faithful. Only because He first chose us can we be His friend. 

Who is Jesus to you? 

Don’t limit yourself to one thing. 
It’s not a short answer. It doesn’t have to be (unless we come up with some all-inclusive word to convey the majesty of who He is). 
Let Him exist in the fullness of who He is within you… and don’t define your relationship with Him based on your earthly friendships. He is more. There is more. It’s full of mystery and there’s no room for the guilt of how you’ve been such a ‘bad friend’ to Jesus.  
Love Him. Be obedient to Him. Honor Him with your life. 
But don’t reduce Him. 

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Single Forever?

The comment:

Maybe there’s a part of me that doesn’t actually want to stay single forever. But it sounds easier, for sure. How can I relinquish control of that area of my heart without doing a 180 and turning into one of “those” girls who is obsessed with finding a husband? I don’t even want that – I just want a person to do life with, to have adventures with. I just want a normal, jesus-loving, awesome dude who happens to fall in love with me. How can I find that without settling for a “normal” relationship, am I allowed to maintain my creative, independent, stubborn nature while simultaneously hoping God will send the perfect guy my way who loves me for all that i am? And what if He doesn’t… what then?

I think there’s always something to being really honest with the Lord and with yourself. It’s often easier for us to deny things that we feel, think, want because we don’t want to face the reality of what that could mean for our life.

In your instance, admitting that you might not want to be single forever means that you’re opening yourself up to a lot of risk…and perhaps the biggest risk of all is choosing to believe that God might actually be good and give you something that you want, and then not having it happen, for whatever reason. Then what happens…? So, rather than face all of that, it always seems easier to deny that there are parts of you that may want something different for yourself.

It also sounds as though you live in extremes. You’ll either want nothing to do with the prospect of marriage or you’ll become obsessed with the very thought of meeting the right guy. Instead of maintaining a balance (which is attainable), you jump from one extreme to the other. I think this is where one of the first steps is just admitting to yourself and the Lord that you might not want to be single forever. I think this allows you to open your heart to the idea. Not become obsessed…but to be open to the idea that it is possible.

I suppose I don’t know what you mean by a ‘normal’ relationship. There’s probably the reality that at the end of the day, if you find someone who is ‘normal’ (does that exist?), Jesus-loving, and awesome that you’re probably still going to have conflict and challenges. There will be moments when life might be mundane or tedious. Ultimately, I think choosing to live life with someone means choosing to love them and you’ll have to let that look however that needs to look. At some point you’ll have to shed expectations of your ‘normal’ relationship and allow the relationship to take it’s own form, knowing that two people coming together are bringing two very different things into the equation.

I think you’re always allowed to maintain pieces of who you are… as long as they are in line with who God says that you are. Some of the independence and stubbornness that you cling to might actually be some of the very things that the Lord longs to chip away at. Would you be open to that? Would you be open to the Lord using a partner in life to help with that refining process?

One of my favorite Oswald Chambers quotes is below:

“When He [God] talks of their losing their selves, He means only abandoning the clamour of self-will; once they have done that, He really gives them back all their personality, and boasts (I am afraid, sincerely) that when they are wholly His they will be more themselves than ever.”

It’s kind of this beautiful reminder to me that the more pressed into Christ we are (which always means the shedding of our flesh and sometimes the very things we tend to cling to about ourselves) then we will actually be more ourselves than ever before.
So, with that, I guess my question to you is are you willing to abandon aspects of your nature that might need to be abandoned? Not for the sake of marriage, but so you might find a better version of yourself for the sake of Christ? Could there ever be the possibility that a partner in life might help bring you into this place as you are being sanctified daily?

I guess all I’m trying to say is that I’d urge you toward openness… in your own heart, in your conversations with the Lord, with possibilities of what could be, with what a relationship can look like, with what a man you could spend the rest of your life is like, with what being single on this earth could look like. Openness toward yourself being refined, changed and growing and becoming more yourself than ever (which might be very different from the girl you remember being) and letting that be okay. Openness that the unknown to all your questions could even be better than denying a desire that might exist.

And ultimately?
Ultimately trusting in the Lord’s goodness and sovereignty and being willing to trust that when it looks different than anything you might have imagined–it’s always better.

Be open.
Trust.

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I am Nothing.

Someone recently reminded me that I’m not the hero.

A gentle prompting to never forget that as I tell stories and share my heart, that it’s not me who is to receive any credit for the change, for the good, for….well, anything. While my first response was to want to argue and defend myself, to ensure that that was never my intent… I realized it didn’t matter. Regardless of intent or not, regardless for my reasons for telling stories the way in which I do… if, in the end, it’s me who comes out looking like the hero, I’ve done something wrong.

With that in mind, I want to apologize to all my readers if that’s ever been the thing taken away from a post. I acknowledge that any good that I have to offer or give is solely because of Jesus. It’s only by His blood that I am redeemed, that I am counted as worthy, that I have hope. It’s only through Him that I can boast about second chances.

I hope by now that you’ve realized that I don’t have it all together, that I’m far from perfect, that I have the tendency to make more mistakes than do anything right. In the process of me sharing and writing, I sincerely desire that you walk away hopeful for better…that you might be willing to challenge and prod at the things you’ve claimed to believe without even knowing why. And, ultimately, that you would always be drawn back to Jesus.

I may not do that so visibly every time, as I fear becoming my own montage of cliches that continue to drive people further from truth. There may be traces of me needing to choose Jesus all the time, and my battle with not always wanting to. But, in the end, it is always He who is faithful, He who is good, He who loves first so I can also love. Without Him, I am nothing.

Thanks for journeying with me through my imperfections and struggles.
I’m so sorry for any narcissism, for any impression I may have given that I hold the key to all the answers. Most times I feel like I’m barely hanging on myself.

I want to serve you, to lead you toward better, to offer you an abundance of hope through second chances…and ultimately that comes through Christ, as He is the sole provider of forgiveness, grace, love and mercy.

It’s only by His blood.
And it’s only He who is the hero.

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You Sure About That?

I was 14 the first time I ‘fell’ in love.
He was 16, and we would often cruise around in his little, white coupe. The night he told me he loved me was the night I played him Deana Carter’s song, That’s How you Know it’s Love.

…Nothing and no one can stand in your way, to keep you from saying what your heart is dying to say…

While I couldn’t seem to make myself actually say the three little words, I tried to express to him the best I could how I felt and the song seemed to suffice. I floated home and downstairs to my basement where my oldest brother and his girlfriend were watching a movie.
In some sort of daze, I gleefully told them that I was in love.
He told me I was stupid.
Of course, it was followed up with a millions reasons why I was too young to be in love and while his words were crushing to my naïve heart, there was a part of me that knew that everything he was saying was true. I went back to my very new boyfriend the next day and told him we needed to start over and not rush into ‘I Love Yous’ any time soon. He was gracious and understanding and we dated for another seven and a half months after that.
One of the things my brother had said over the years that stuck with me was that if you’re going to tell someone that you love them, you better be able to back it up. Meaning, if you’re going to spout out the words, be ready to get down on one knee or put a ring on your finger. It made sense to me. It still makes sense to me.
I fear we exist in a world where ‘I Love You’ rolls off our tongue entirely too easily. And while, yes, especially for those of you who are Christians, one of our biggest missions in life is to love everyone…but just because we are ‘supposed’ to, it doesn’t mean that we do. And if we don’t, then why do we say that we do?
And if we really understand the sacrifice of what it means to love someone, why aren’t we a little more reserved when declaring our love for strangers, friends, boyfriends, family, etc.?
When I tell you I love you, I want to mean it. When I tell you that I love you, it means to me that I’m placing you above me (or at least I’m trying). It means that I will sacrifice time, and money, and energy to make sure that you’re okay—even if it comes at the expense of my own heart. It means that I’m trying to not remember the ways that you’ve hurt me, and I’m trying to not let your flaws dictate how I treat you. It means that I hope for you. It means that I understand that it’s not always about me.
I don’t tell people I love them very often…and when I do, you should know that I never take those words lightly. I try to mean what I say, every time.
I’ve been appalled out how quickly people are to shout these words from the rooftop to each other. Are you one of these people? Perhaps you mean it when you say it each time…but I want you to remember the weight of these words. I want you to remember the cost of these words. These aren’t words you say, just because you’re supposed to….these are words you say because you mean them.
Especially in relationships…be wary of how often and how quickly you throw out these three. Can you back them up? When you say these words, will you choose to keep saying them again and again? Or, is there even the slight possibility that someday you might stop…? Do you remember that love isn’t just a feeling?
There’s no room for falling out of love. There’s no room for choosing to not love someone anymore. There’s no reason to mess around when it comes to these deep and personal matters of the heart. The moment you utter those words, it’s not just your heart on the line anymore.
And, learn a little lesson from me. If you can’t bring yourself to even say the words, there’s probably a good reason for it.
It’s time for a little self-examination.
Who are saying ‘I Love You’ to?
Do you mean it?
Truly and honestly?
Are you willing to back it up?
Then do it….or else keep your mouth shut. 

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Heroes in Airports

Whenever I fly, I always scope out my fellow passengers.
I look around to see, in case of the always feared crashing-into-a-deserted-island thing, who my comrades might be and who might have the best survivor skills.

I always hope for a Dr. Jack Shephard, and probably secretly a Sawyer (just to keep things interesting). Naturally, I’m Kate, aside from that whole fugitive thing. It’s a romanticized world of how things could play out in case of emergency. Unfortunately, you only get a limited view of people as you walk by them in the aisles, trying to avoid hitting them with your excessive amount of luggage. There’s really no way to gauge from these momentary glances who might be a true hero or heroin. Mostly I see the back of heads, listen to snores or crying babies, and avoid being leaned on by the sleeping man next to me.

I think about this more when the plane goes through the inevitable turbulence. It’s the kind that causes your heart to drop a little and forces you to look out the window, certain that you will find a wing shredding to oblivion. I often think, ‘This is it. It’s my time to die.” In my make-believe-world, I think that I would be calm…but in reality, I know that panic would surge through every fiber of my being. In the moments of turbulence, I am calm.

Flying is always an interesting experience- from the airports, to the people, to the flight itself. On my last flight, I was in the airport for 8 hours before departing. I cozied up in a chair next to an electrical outlet and found a plethora of ways to keep myself entertained via the ‘ol macbook and the world wide web. And then, out of nowhere, a man came up to me.

It’s what every girl dreams of, right? To meet a strange, mysterious man in an airport… a man who is good-looking, charming and in need of a computer charger? He sat down with his laptop, and I handed over my charger. He was chatty. I found out that he was from New York, heading to Miami and that he was a fashion designer. He designs costumes… for carnivals. Being the incredibly ignorant person that I am, I muttered a few polite ‘uh-huhs’, but he saw through my nods and smiles.

‘Have you heard of that? Do you know what it is?’ my face remained blank, and so he decided to pull up a few of his designs on his computer for me to see. Oh… (if you don’t know what these ‘costumes’ are, you are free to google it). Soon after, he looked me up and down and said, ‘Would you ever consider wearing one of these?’

We were clearly from different worlds (in fact, he said so himself)…but I didn’t know how to respond to his question without making him feel like it was the most preposterous thing I’d ever heard. I wasn’t sure if it was a subtle come-on, or if he was just curious, or if he wanted to do business with me. He went on to tell me about the endless parties each night and morning, and I simply soaked it all in. Friday night party, Saturday morning party, Saturday night party, Sunday morning party and then on Sunday afternoon is the Carnival and then that night they party again. The next day they’ll recuperate a little before heading on to the next one.

I asked questions, because I was so intrigued…but not enough to appear too intrigued. It was a moment of, again, realizing how little I know about the world around me. After several minutes, he wished me luck with my future, and ran off to catch his flight.

It was a brief moment in an airport, but it felt significant.
How, in a few minutes with a stranger, do you ever tell them the reason for the hope that you have without coming across like a Bible-beating maniac? Are we supposed to tell everyone we meet, no matter what? Do we feel guilty when we don’t?

I don’t feel guilty… but I am curious. What is our responsibility to share, and what is simply an excuse to not? Is it more about taking opportunities as they arise? Or, might you consider every interaction with someone an opportunity?

I’m curious about what your personal convictions are in this.
How do you rationalize not telling everyone you meet within moments of meeting them… or do you?
How do you bridge the gap enough to tell someone who has no understanding of where you come from and them where you come from in a way that even makes sense? How do you get there in a few minutes?

Do we even think twice about these brief interactions with strangers?
I’ll admit that sometimes I don’t…
But, I think I need to.
And I think I need to be more bold.
Perhaps, while just an arbitrary person on a plane or in an airport, I might be able to point someone toward the real Hero.

Lord, show me how.

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Unrecognizable

The comment:

I’m really working on being content, being present, and embracing the things God has for me right now, right here…I think a lot of the trust really comes from that idea of “blooming where you are planted.” Like being faithful with the opportunities God gives me today…and knowing he will give me the next ones. It helps me not miss all the exciting stuff here and now. 

The other day someone asked me about some of this..and I started explaining and I was so happy/excited.. I think they thought I was kidding…

It’s those reactions from people you haven’t seen/talked to in a while that show growth, you know… in whatever area. Like when someone slowly looses weight…it is always the person you haven’t seen that it is most noticeable to. 

I feel like I’m always posting people’s questions and struggles that unveil our imperfections and our attempts to make it through each day when, in reality, we have no idea what in the world we’re even doing most of the time. Hopefully, through all of it, you know you aren’t alone as you process, over-analyze and do crazy things. Today, though, I wanted you to be encouraged by someone I talked to recently who has it all figured out.

Okay, not really (because, who does…), but I wanted to extend hope from someone else’s words. That there’s a steady assurance that can arise in trusting the Lord right where you are. There doesn’t need to be answers to your thousands of questions about what’s next (in any area of life), but seizing the moments before you instead. Living in the present, not the future…not the past.

I also want to encourage you that, oftentimes, change doesn’t happen overnight. Sometimes it’s slow and gradual- so slow you don’t even know it’s happening. Sometimes, like my friend said, you lose some weight over a long stretch of time and you hardly even notice until you’re reunited with an old buddy and they immediately go on and on about how great and thin you look. Sometimes it’s from a parent when you go home after months or years of being away. Suddenly you’re serving them instead of demanding that they serve you. It’s not anything unnatural to you at this point-it just seems like the right thing to do, a way to bless them. But, when they’re used to a selfish teenager who lived in their house for several years, this slow and gradual change (that might have taken ten years) seems like a miracle!

And I guess that’s the hope for all of us. That we’re living, that we’re seeking, that we’re striving… and somedays we might be so ticked off because we feel like we aren’t making any progress at all. We feel defeated because we mess up again and again. But then one day… one day we wake up and we realize we’re a different person. We almost don’t even recognize ourselves.

I think we’re far too often discouraged that we aren’t transformed overnight. We pray and we try so hard to become different people. I think maybe we forget that we’re slowly becomING different people each day, despite our best efforts to speed up the process.

I can’t wait for the day when we’ve arrived there…but in the meantime, I hope that we’ll all be like my friend: working on being content, being present, and embracing the things that God has for us right now, right here.

You are changing, even if you can’t see it.
You’re shedding your old skin, one day at a time.
And one day, I promise, you’ll wake up… and you won’t even recognize yourself. For the first time in your entire life you’ll be more yourself than ever before. It’s the beauty of the gospel.

There’s hope.
Always hope.

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‘Proverbs 31 Woman’ Take-Down

The comment:

I feel like i’ll never measure up to the Proverbs 31 woman – does this mean i’m not a Godly woman or that I’m sinning by not taking the role that I should? How do I balance my unorthodox passions with who American Christianity says I should be?

I guess the real question here must ultimately stem from understanding what a ‘Proverbs 31’ woman is and if we are all supposed to be one. I don’t have the education or theological background to unpack the scripture sufficiently, but I’ll tell you my honest thoughts as I read through it again and attempt to answer your questions.

Proverbs 31 is about a ‘wife of noble character’, right? Immediately I think, so…this isn’t saying ‘the woman that all women are supposed to strive to be like’. It’s a poem, and as the author begins, he seems to be describing this woman in the context of marriage…he seems to be telling the reader that this husband should find much value in his wife (v. 10) for these reasons.

This woman, I admit, is pretty incredible. She’s good at a wide array of things–she’s good with her hands, she sews, she cooks, she works in the fields, she’s wise with investments, she’s rises early, she’s not idle, she takes care of her family, she fears the Lord…  we don’t know how old she is, and we don’t know what she looks like. Those things are insignificant when the value of this wife is determined. She is godly, above all else.

Reality? I don’t think many of us will ever measure up to this Proverbs 31 woman…but I’m not sure if that’s the goal in which we should seek to obtain. At least, not the specifics. This woman is well-rounded and flat out good at a lot of things… a lot of things that, culturally, we have no clue how to do anymore. To compare ourselves to this woman is setting ourselves up for defeat every time.

If our goal is godliness, if our goal is glorifying the Lord in all we do…then can this passage move us toward that? In some ways, yes. But, does it have to be the end all, be all of every woman’s existence? I don’t think so. Is this a good example for us of a godly woman? Yes. Is it the only example? No. Check out Deborah (ha), the judge, or maybe Ruth, or Mary, or Priscilla, or Rahab, or Tamar…

What I’m getting at is that there’s a long line of women in scripture who loved the Lord wholeheartedly and lived their lives to serve Him and if our goal is to BECOME them, then we’re losing sight of the goal of becoming like Christ.

I don’t care about becoming a ‘Proverbs 31’ woman, honestly. I can’t recall a time when that ever became something I felt like I needed to do above all else. Becoming like Jesus already seemed like the most important task at hand, and, naturally…it seems that the more we become like Him, the more those other things are going to fall into place. We have to allow room for ourselves to be ourselves as we seek godliness and not simply become this rigid form of someone else.

So… I say screw what you feel like American Christianity says that you should be and become exactly who you were intended to be. Love Jesus and strive to be more like Him each day…remembering His grace in the process.

I think you’ll be surprised by the freedom, by the joy, and by the many ways the Lord begins to use you once you step out in the fullness of who He has created you to be, instead of trying to mold yourself into someone who isn’t you. Perhaps your ‘unorthodox passions’ are the very passions you’ve been given to move you into being a non-conformist and into fighting for what is good and true.

I don’t think there’s a set ‘role’ for women that we must follow.
Seek godliness… not Proverbs 31-ness. If those characteristics happen to coincide with who you are, if they help set goals, if they provide an example… that’s one thing. But, there’s a whole lot more to following Jesus and I hope we get to live in the joy of that above all else.

(And men, I truly hope you are not seeking to FIND a woman who measures up to this standard, either. Let her be godly in her own way…and find the value in her through the many ways she glorifies the Lord in what she does, not by comparing her to someone else.)

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Trust & Obey

The comment:

The hard part is talking about my personal “stuff”. I’d rather help others than talk about my own prison. I don’t want to be judged. It’s hard exposing my darkness to light. Is there any easy way to bring up this not so easy topic?? Im afraid that others won’t care/ judge me and if they do care I’m not too sure i know how to respond. If He listens, cares, loves and/or with me than why am I still fighting these dragons?! I’m hanging by a thread but want to know and experience this hope and change, but how long of wait is to long! It all seems impossible. How do I find hope and stop doubting?? I’m lost and I’m not sure how to get out or if ill get out.

I received this response to my one of my posts last week. As I was replying, I realized that within this cry for help, there’s a bit of all of us.

So many of us are afraid that if we truly open up and share what’s going on in the depths of our hearts, that others will either not care or they’ll judge us. I know I think that way all the time. I know I’ve watched others expose some of the most intimate details of their lives, only to be met with awkward silence or a gushing of cliche sentiments about how God is still sovereign and has a plan. And then, if those things don’t happen, there’s the random chance that they really will care and, because that’s so inconsistent to what we know, it’s terrifying and we don’t know how to respond.

We often let our distrust of others become the reason that we live in isolation, and so our cells grow colder and darker and lonelier. I’m not sure trusting others is the end goal though- only, that’s what we tend to focus on. We tend to let our relationships revolve around trust, and whether or not we can divulge our entire beings to someone else will dictate whether someone is worthy of being a true friend.

When I talk about bringing light to darkness, I’m not sure how vital trust is. The point in bringing light to the darkness doesn’t seem to be about trust as much as it is about healing. Perhaps, in the process, trust will form and it will be what’s necessary…but I think the exposure to the light is all about admitting that we need Jesus. Not that we need others, per se, but that we need Jesus Christ. There’s an element of allowing others in and leaning on them, but I don’t think it’s in such a way that they become our everything, our sole confidant, our life-line. I don’t think it’s in such a way that we are asked to trust them with our entire beings.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think we, oftentimes, get to hung up on trust issues and we let that become a thing that dominates our life. I don’t trust him so I’m not going to date him, I don’t trust her so I’m not going to tell her this about my past…and the list could go on…and on and on. And, to some degree, trust needs to be there, yes. But, I think we’re fools if we go through life thinking that people are never going to let us down or hurt us. It’s within our human nature to do so. I also think we’re fools if we go through life always expecting people to hurt us. It is plausible that people can and will surprise us with their loyalty, with showing up, with loving us despite our weaknesses and we ought to let them do that.

Trusting others doesn’t mean that they are to be the keeper of all of our secrets and if they don’t hold up their end of the bargain they’ve let us down. Trusting others might simply mean that when they say they care about you or love you, that you’ll let them do that… in their own way. Trusting others might mean that you allow their love and care for you to look different than what you might have imagined. Trusting them might mean that when they’ve told someone your ‘secret’ that you ultimately know it’s because they cared about you (so they ended up telling your mom that you were cutting, or that you have an eating disorder, or that you have a drug problem…).

Unfortunately, trusting others might also mean that they betray you, or you find out that they don’t care about you at all. They might judge you. It’s part of the risk. But, again, I don’t think the letting light in is about trust. It’s about healing, and opening up to others is a step in that direction. Don’t let others’ reactions and sins be the thing that keeps you from walking in freedom.

Trust is important. It’s a huge aspect of what it means for us to love others….for love always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres… So when we live the majority of our lives in distrust, it seems we’ve missed the mark when we claim to love everyone.

Be willing to take risks.
Be willing to trust the Lord and walk obediently to what He has called you to do…and know that He’s going to take care of you in the process. When you’re trusting Him with this, when people hurt and betray you.. you’ll know that you are secure in something greater.

Never fear, only trust and obey.

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Death Sentence

This summer there was a trial.
It involved a conniving man who had committed murder and a high school girl who had stolen medicine to keep her dying sister alive. The campers were the jury.

It was a simulation of a trial that we put on every Monday night at camp. It gave the campers a chance to decide for themselves who was guilty and who was innocent.

I acted the part of the girl on trial. Every week I gave my testimony to hundreds of campers and let them decide my fate. Every week, while there were a few groups that proclaimed my innocence, the majority condemned me. While I was a good person, I had still broken the law. While I was going to church, sacrificially giving my money to people in need, breaking the law only because I was desperate to keep my sister alive and in the spur of the moment, when I didn’t have the money, I took the medication and ran…I was still guilty.

The other guy on trial, one of the guys I worked with, was a jerk. He was clearly guilty and clearly an idiot (especially when he attempted Aussie accents). He was a murderer- there wasn’t ever a question in any camper’s mind.

We both stood on stage, waiting to hear the camper’s verdict. This was the point during the night where I would try to muster up tears. Oftentimes, the large fan overhead in the pavilion would hit my eyes at just the right angle and cause my eyes to tear up a little. This helped, but it wasn’t yet believable that I was a high school girl in terrible distress. Groups would trickle back in and hand their verdicts in. There was always laughter, pointing, casual discussion and, usually, a jeer or a comment in our direction about how guilty we were.

While, yes, the trial was fake and everyone in the room knew it, I couldn’t help but think that it wouldn’t be much different if it was real. I remember being astonished at how quickly these campers were to judge us, to decide our fate…based on only a few facts. I remember being thrown off by the cruelty of their words and the disapproval in their eyes.

Ashamed I hear my mocking voice, call out among the scoffers…

These words would run through my mind every time at this point in the evening. I wasn’t any different from these campers. I felt like I had caught a glimpse of what it was like to be Jesus on trial. Only He had done nothing wrong. In the crowd there was accusation, judgment, scorn, ridicule…and I can’t help but think my voice would have been one of them.

The tears flowed easily at this point. For as much as I felt the scorn of others from some silly simulation, I knew it was only a taste of what Christ had endured for me…for us.

The verdict was in. We were always guilty. *applause, cheering*
The punishment? Death.

For the murderer, this sentence was met with more applause and cheering. When my sentence was read, there was often a shout of disapproval. I was dragged off stage, weeping and begging for my life.

The whole idea was to paint a picture for these campers that no matter how good we are and no matter how bad we are, we are all deserving of death…we are all sinners.  It’s only because of the blood of Jesus Christ that our sins have been atoned for. It’s only through grace that we have been saved.

I think I forget this sometimes.
I think I forget my depravity and my absolute need for Jesus.
I think I forget that no matter how good I am, no matter how bad I am… Jesus still takes me back.
I think I forget that there’s nothing I can do to earn salvation.
I think I forget that it’s already been done.

This must matter above all else.
There can’t be anything else that gets in the way.
The gospel must be the centrality from which everything flows.

It’s time we start living that way.

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