You Go Before Me

I trust you, Jesus
'cause You go before me
You know every step, every step

Walking on Water

I feel myself sinking.

Lord, I am so afraid!

Please help! Somebody help!

"Keep your eyes on me."

I close my eyes. I take a deep breath.

I open my eyes and lock them with yours.

Author and creator.

Beginning and end.

Who could know my heart better than you do?

Waves are rising.

Skies are black.

Fear is crippling.

Still, I know,

somewhere down deep in my soul,

You are good.

You always have been.

You always will be.

I will not drown.

I repeat it out loud:

"Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus. Jesus."

You are every answer.

You are every need.

I will trust in you.

I will praise you louder when the pain cuts deeper.

I will not drown.

Dear God,

I just want to feel you near.

 I just want to hear it from you-- that you're close, that you're not letting go, that you won't let me stay down forever, that you will work all things together for good because I love you.

I know you're listening. I know you're watching. I know you're defending me and protecting me even as I wait to hear you speak.

I know that I'm not spending enough time with you. I know that I should be praying more. I should be spending so much more time in your word. I know it isn't an excuse, God, but I am so weary. I feel it down in my bones, deep in my soul. Exhaustion has creeped into my body like a disease and it has claimed to own my body and mind like a property.

I know this isn't the life you intended for me. I know that there is more. Exceedingly, abundantly, immeasurably more. I'm scared that you're angry with me. But deep down, I hear a faint echo of a truth my heart once knew well: you are a good father. Like the prodigal son returning to the open arms of his Dad, I know your arms are open too. I know this is who you are.

So, here I am, God. I love you with my whole heart. I want to do better. I want to be better. I want to live fully, walking in peace and joy.

Here I am.

Here's my weak, humble offering. My heart. All of it.

Take it, God. It's yours completely. Mold it into whatever you want it to be. Make me like Jesus.

Speak to me, God. I don't deserve to hear from you but I crave your voice like water. Bring me back into the fullness of your presence.

The Longest Afternoon of My Life

Well, it's been over a year since I've written on here. I don't know why I can't seem to stay consistent. I was always a very consistent and successful student and I've never thought of myself as having commitment issues. I think it's just that life is busy: the completely dull but entirely true mantra of every full-time working adult. 

So, anyway, happy 2018.... and 2019. 

As I'm sure you could imagine (although I highly doubt you find my life and/or retelling of the events that happen in my life interesting enough to spend quality time with your brain's imagination thinking upon the subject of, well, me), so much has happened. I don't even know where to begin and I promised myself that the purpose of this blog would remain wholly intact and not adjusted over time: I spill my guts as I see fit and that's pretty much all there is to it. I sit in the moment I'm in and talk about how I'm feeling in that moment. Or I reminisce if I want to reminisce. But I will not place pressure upon myself to be an eloquent writer or make things feel "artsy" or "poetic" or even beautiful. For a high-functioning but often secretly crippling perfectionist, you have no idea how hard that it is. That's why it's important that I stick to the freedom plan of typing almost as fast as I think, an authentic look into my mind, an online diary of sorts. 

Where were we? 

Oh yes, the moment I'm in. 

This "fleeting" moment I'm in. 

Time normally goes by so quickly it makes my head spin (a common complaint among the entirety of the human race), but this week, I kid you not, has been the longest week in the existence of my life. Every moment feels like a lump of phlegm lodged in my throat that I can't seem to cough up or swallow down or get any relief from at all. It's like the clock is staring at me, laughing at me, taunting "You can never escape me."

Brady's grandma, Linda Collins, is dying. 

And amidst the grief, right in the middle of so much hurt and so many questions, time has decided to play a trick on us.

I thought it would feel like there's not enough time. And, of course, in some ways, it does. I can't explain what I mean as it completely boggles me, but it's as if every moment is dragging in cruelty. 

We don't want to let her go. How did this happen? She was fine just the other day. I can't remember the last dinner we all had together. Did we ever finally get everyone together for Thanksgiving or were we waiting until Christmas? We don't want to see her suffer anymore. What time is it? Should we go home and try to get some sleep? We don't want to be gone when she passes. But we can't keep our eyes open. Is that wrong of us? Should there be some kind of switch in us that goes superhuman-need-no-sleep mode when one of our loved ones is wrestling with life? 

We're stuck in a limbo. 

A song echoes in the caverns of my worn-out heart:

"Even when the fight seems lost, I'll praise You 

Even when it hurts like hell, I'll praise You

Even when it makes no sense to sing, 

Louder then I'll sing Your praise 

I will only sing Your praise."

Sunday, November 26th, 2017

These are my favorite memories. The sporadic ones, the ones that happen on a whim, the spontaneous, jump-in-the-car-at-midnight ones. These are the moments where life feels solid, like something I can stand on and put all my weight on. Something I can breathe against.

Sunday night we finally had some time, just Brady and I, to spend putting up our Christmas tree. Brady had actually already put the tree up a few days before, on Thanksgiving, but the top of it is slightly crooked (it has been since we first bought it, but we somehow made it work last year). So we're about to start putting lights around it when Brady looks at the tree, looks back at me, and says, "Let's go get a new one. Let's just do it."

Money has been tight ever since we got back from our California trip in September. We're busier than ever. The combination of a full schedule and an empty bank account leads to some very distressed and exhausted people. So, we've had our fair share of arguments. But tonight, this night I'm telling you about, we decided to prioritize our marriage and its memories above anything else. We didn't have a lot of money in the bank, but our bills for the month were already paid and, you know what? IT'S CHRISTMAS! We love Christmas. And we love each other.

So we hopped in the car at nine o' clock on a Sunday night, even though we both had to work early in the morning, and we went hunting for our perfect tree. We tried Lowe's but they were closed. We didn't let that stop us. We drove further. We went to Target and we found the one! So full and beautiful. It was on sale for $103.99, which was more than either of us wanted to spend. Again, Brady says, "Let's do it." And I loved him for it.

We take it to the register and walk out with a receipt for $67.08. Not sure how it was on sale even more or of it was simply a Christmas miracle. Either way, we drove home, holding hands, and Brady spent the rest of the evening perfecting the branches.

And I don't care how simple or silly this story may seem. These are the moments I live for. The simple, the quiet, the risk-taking moments. The ones that don't boast, that aren't planned out perfectly, that aren't organized even in the least bit. The ones that mimic love completely: raw, vulnerable, spontaneous, loyal, passionate. The ones where love shines as bright as the star on top of the Christmas tree; boldly, profoundly, symbolically. The ones where love is more important than sleep, money, a clean house, laundry, our own selfish desires. The ones where love wins.

Happy Thanksgiving. I'm grateful for it all.

Donut be discouraged

I'm feeling so frazzled today, but it's more than that. I'm exhausted. The kind of exhausted that wears down your bones and seeps into your soul and makes you feel permanently trapped. I don't know what to do. There's certainly no end in sight. I'm working a full-time job, a part-time job in ministry (which we all know is impossible, so basically I'm working another full-time job), and I'm in school full-time online. I don't know why I thought I could do it all. I'm just trying to be the best person that I can be in order to provide as much as I can for my future family. But if my brightness dims in the process, if I lose part of who I am, is it even worth it?

I'm scared to talk to anyone about it. Brady is exhausted too. I don't want to stress him out even more or make him more tired. I know he gets frustrated at me for not being able to handle it all. Pastor Justin really stresses me out and makes me feel afraid. Anytime I even slightly disagree with him, he freaks out. I know that isn't a good sign, but I don't want to lose our relationship. I think we're losing it anyway, though, because I'm crawling more and more into my shell. I know I need to just be honest, but I'm afraid that he'll get angry, which will push me away even further. My mom has never been a person that I can open up to. My dad hasn't been in a long, long time.

I feel alone. I don't feel depressed. I don't feel hopeless. I believe that there is always hope. It's like staring into a mirror for the first time in a long time. I just see exactly where I'm standing. And I know I won't stand here forever. But right now, it feels difficult to move.

Well, I do have some good news. I think I just ate the best donut I've ever had in my life. So, here's to donuts. Donut be discouraged. This too shall pass.

Things going on in our nation have been weighing on me heavily for some time now. I know they've been weighing on a lot of us. They've been so heavy, in fact, that I became afraid to speak for fear of not even having enough words or the right words to convey my heart. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to really articulate the pain it causes me to see so much hate displayed so casually.

This morning, Pastor @justin_porter talked about Paul in prison, and how he never said "When I get out of this prison, I will start praising God again." He never said "When I get out of this prison..." at all. He actually said "I want you to know, my dear brothers and sisters, that everything that has happened to me here has helped to spread the Good News. For everyone here, including the whole palace guard, knows that I am in chains because of Christ." (Philippians 1:12-13) Paul knew that his mission did not stop just because he was put in prison. His mission remained the same: love. To love others as Christ had loved him, even those that had put him in chains. His chains became his story. His chains were his victory. He wasn't letting anyone rob him of joy. He praised God in prison the same way he praised him as a free man.

That story seemed to awaken something within me that I believe has been stirring for quite some time. This tiny flicker of a flame that started around the time of the election last year has now been lit and is growing like a wildfire. Because the truth is this: it's NOW or NEVER. Just like Paul knew that there was a very real chance he would die in prison, I know that our days here are numbered, and we have no idea when our last one is. I don't know want to be a person known for being silent about things that matter. Yes, it is true, the Bible tells us that there is a time for everything, "a time to be silent and a time to speak," (Ecclesiastes 3:7), but if we do not choose when to speak and what to speak about, the Bible also states that we are fools. "The one who has knowledge uses words with restraint, and whoever has understanding is even-tempered. Even fools are thought wise if they keep silent, and discerning if they hold their tongues." (Proverbs 17:27-28)

You see, as a kid, I never imagined a world where people were scorned for their skin color. It just was totally and completely outside of my realm. My parents never treated anyone differently because of how they looked. For lack of better words, racism was unfathomable to me. I just truly did not believe that it was possible for someone to hold that kind of hate in their heart. It still does not make sense to me. So, I took the first part of that verse, and I thought... "I don't understand this, God, so maybe I should just keep quiet. Maybe I should just continue to love people the same way I always have." But I read the second part of that verse today and I felt like I got punched in the gut. I can no longer be silent. I have been silent for too long, and for that I am sorry. For that I have gone to the Father for forgiveness. The time to speak is NOW, because whether it's hard to believe or not, the truth is that injustice is happening NOW. I do not stand with division. I do not stand with hatred. I do not stand with white supremacy. I do not stand with violence. Jesus could not make it any more clear to me where he stands. And I stand with Him. Always.

Ephesians 2:14-18 says "For Christ himself has brought peace to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people when, in his own body on the cross, he broke down the wall of hostility that separated us. He did this by ending the system of law with its commandments and regulations. He made peace between Jews and Gentiles by creating in himself one new people from the two groups. Together as one body, Christ reconciled both groups to God by means of his death on the cross, and our hostility towards each other was put to death. He brought this Good News of peace to you Gentiles who were far away from him, and peace to the Jews who were near. Now all of us can come to the Father through the same Holy Spirit because of what Christ has done for us."

The Bible repeatedly states that Christ died for all. There is nothing to argue there.

My heart is breaking for those that have been treated unfairly, who have been given less opportunities, who have had to live in fear of being murdered for the color of their skin. My words could never express the sadness I feel in knowing that there are people who treat you that way or the desire I have to change that, but I know that my silence says far more about it than anything else. As Pastor Justin also mentioned this morning, silence implicates acceptance. And I will not accept this. I will fight for you. I will stand with you. I will not be silent.

My words do not feel like enough, but I know that God hears my cries. I will end with this, which is one of my favorite passages of scripture.

"In the last days, the mountain of the Lord's house will be the highest of all--- the most important place on earth. It will be raised above the other hills, and people from all over the world will stream there to worship. People from many nations will come and say, "Come, let is go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of Jacob's God. There he will teach us his ways, and we will walk in his paths. For the Lord's teaching will go out from Zion; his word will go out from Jerusalem. The Lord will mediate between nations and will settle international disputes. They will hammer their swords into plowshares, and their spares into pruning hooks. Nation will no longer fight against nation, nor train for war anymore." Isaiah 2:1-4

The image of worshipping with brothers and sisters in Christ of all different skin colors and all different backgrounds and all different personalities.... it makes my heart swell with joy that is unexplainable and uncontainable. I know that day is coming, so I will hold to that hope. And until then, I will not be silent. I will speak out against hatred. I will speak for love. It's now or never.