Fried Chicken, 3 Meals A Day

There's no way around it.

I can't sugar coat it.

No matter how many pictures I try to hide, the truth is still the same.

I was fat when I was a child.

And rather overweight when I was a teen.

And there were times that I would sit in my room and cry and yell and scream because the newest jeans at Limited Too didn't fit me.

Or when I couldn't find soffe shorts in my size to middle school gym class. ( Y'all remember how cool those were right?)

And trying to find a prom dress turned into a very loud, very overdramatic fight that ended with me crying in the dressing room while my mother stood outside the door.

And I wanted to be skinny.

I would dream of being skinny.

I would try to bargain with God to make me skinny.

Sometimes, I would stay up and pray that if God just magically melted all of my excess pounds away, I would go and be a missionary in Africa.

If God would make me look like the girls in the magazines, I would never yell at my brothers again.

If God, If God, If God would just.

And I would pray these prayers, and wish these wishes, and then get up in the morning and eat a fried chicken biscuit for breakfast.

And fried chicken tenders for lunch.

And fried buffalo chicken tenders for dinner, just for variety's purpose.

I wanted all of the results, but was willing to put in none of the effort. It wasn't my job- it was God's.

And now, as I have begun to study Luke, and looked at the relationships Jesus had with the ones He healed, I see now my take on God's work was completely wrong.

⁴⁰ Now when Jesus returned, a crowd welcomed him, for they were all expecting him. ⁴¹ Then a man named Jairus, a synagogue leader, came and fell at Jesus’ feet, pleading with him to come to his house ⁴² because his only daughter, a girl of about twelve, was dying.

As Jesus was on his way, the crowds almost crushed him. ⁴³ And a woman was there who had been subject to bleeding for twelve years,^[c] but no one could heal her. ⁴⁴ She came up behind him and touched the edge of his cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.

⁴⁵ “Who touched me?” Jesus asked.

When they all denied it, Peter said, “Master, the people are crowding and pressing against you.”

⁴⁶ But Jesus said, “Someone touched me; I know that power has gone out from me.”

⁴⁷ Then the woman, seeing that she could not go unnoticed, came trembling and fell at his feet. In the presence of all the people, she told why she had touched him and how she had been instantly healed. ⁴⁸ Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

Read that last verse again, in case you missed it.

⁴⁸ Then he said to her, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

Jesus didn't say "I healed you".

Jesus didn't say "Your heavenly father has healed you".

Jesus said "Your faith has healed you".

Sure, Jesus did the work. And in the end, yes, Jesus was the one that healed the woman.

But it was her great faith that caused her to reach out.

Sometimes, I think we expect God to work amazing miracles in our lives. We have hope, we have an idealistic sense of purpose, but we never take those thoughts and put them into action.

We never rely on our faith.

What amazing works could God have already done in our lives if we didn't constantly wait on the Lord to act, but through a faith in the Heavenly Father, acted on his commands, not matter what the outcome?

What if we always had faith to simply reach out, and grab what has been right in front of us? The love of an amazing, miracle producing Messiah that gives us the free will to reach out.

A God that allows us to use our faith to reach out, and discover those miracles he has in store for our life.