Something Greater

Today I'm just tired.

And it could come from the fact that I just went on a whirlwind 24 hour Disney trip,

But that's not the case.

Sure. I'm physically tired.

But my heart is what feels the most exhausted.

Exhausted because right now, life doesn't look like I thought it would.

Right now, life feels like a series of never ending questions.

Right now, life just feels like I'm stuck in the waiting.

And sometimes, the waiting can just be exhausting.

I'm not sure what I thought that life would look like, but it isn't this.

And I don't think I'm alone in this.

I'm not naive enough to think that life played out the way that the rest of the world thought it would.

But I have to wonder- how do you sit in rest,

How do you sit in contentment,

When you're just not content in the season of life that you're sitting right in the middle of?

How do you allow your heart to dream,

But be completely ok that those dreams seem to never come true?

And why does life feel like it always is work?

I don't know if you've ever read the story of Sarah,

But today, I feel like her story is my story, in so many words.

All Sarah wanted was a child.

And she waited, and waited and waited.

And I can only imagine how she felt.

Ashamed that she could not do the thing that she was borne to do.

Envious of her friends as she watched them play with their babies,

And grandbabies.

And having to time and time again mourn the loss of the life that she thought she would have.

I'm sure those feelings were draining.

I'm sure her heart was exhausted.

And at her lowest of low, probably when it seemed like she could take the waiting no more,

She took her story out of God's hands,

And into her own.

She convinced her husband Abraham to go sleep with a servant Hagar so that he could have a son.

And when she got her wish,

When Hagar became pregnant,

She was angry,

And cynical,

Because this life she made for herself was not what she wanted either.

And it wasn't until she stopped trying,

And turned to The Lord,

The Lord that she finally recognized was a Lord that saw her waiting,

Saw her shame, 

Saw her envy,

Saw her sorrow,

That life became something worth waiting for,

And her dream finally came true.

Right now, I think I'm in the period of waiting,

The period of mourning the life that I thought would be.

But here's where Sarah and my story differs.

I don't want to have to take my life into my own hands to figure out that God's plan is better.

I want to learn to trust in this season,

Even though its one I'd prefer not to be in.

I want to learn to be able to find rest, no matter how restless I may feel.

I want to learn to find contentment, no matter how discontent I am with my circumstances.

And maybe, I have to sit through this season so that I could recognize that even when life isn't what I think it should be,

That God always is.

Maybe I'm waiting,

And tired,

And mourning my own personal dreams,

To allow The Lord to make room in my heart for his plans,

His dreams,

His desires for my life.

Maybe this season isn't a season to watch all the dreams I had for my life never come true,

Maybe it's a time to dream new dreams,

Bigger dreams,

God sized dreams,

And I have to get rid of those other ones,

To make room for something greater.

Maybe we have to be tired,

So we can fully know how to rest.

Thanksgiving In July

Thanksgiving has never been a holiday I look forward to.

And I'm not sure why.

I love my family.

I love food. 

I love parades.

So, in that sense, Thanksgiving should be the holiday that I count down to every year.

But it never is.

I think it's the fact that I know that Thanksgiving is an entire day devoted to sitting around and eating that stresses me out.

Suddenly, the exact think I try to avoid doing on a daily basis,

Gorging myself on carbs and sugar,

Is not only accepted,

It's celebrated.

But when I think about the true meaning of Thanksgiving, the root of the word of Thanksgiving, I think I don't enjoy the holiday because we, as a whole, have kind of missed the point.

Thanksgiving: :  a public acknowledgment or celebration of divine goodness; a day set apart for giving thanks to God.

A day set apart of giving thanks to God.

A public acknowledgement or celebration of divine goodness.

Maybe I dislike Thanksgiving because I'm missing the point.

And maybe I'm missing the point, because I've been lacking little bit of Thanksgiving all year round.

If i had to be honest, my heart has been really tired recently.

I've been walking through a season of doubt,

A season of confusion.

A season of challenges.

And it's not because my life is bad,

I love my life.

I truly do.

But life, in every sense of the word, can cause doubt,

And be challenging,

And be confusing,

And force us to acknowledge the fact that we actually have very little control over anything.

And instead of leaning into that,

And being grateful that I serve a God that does control everything,

I've allowed myself to become bitter,

And cynical,

And tired.

And when I read this quote today in the book I'm reading " A Praying Life" by Paul E. Miller

I figured out the source of my weariness.

And it's because I haven't been taking time to rest in the Thanksgiving.

"Thankfulness isn't a matter of forcing yourself to see the happy side of life. That would be like returning to naive optimism. Thanking God restores the natural order of our dependence on God. It enables us to see life as it really is...cynicism looks reality in the face, calls it phony, and prides itself on it's insight as it pulls back. Thanksgiving looks reality in the face and rejoices at God's care. It replaces a bitter spirit with a generous one".

Real Thanksgiving isn't pretending that everything is OK.

Real Thanksgiving is knowing it isn't and choosing to see the Lord's provision, even in the doubt challenges, even in the confusion.

Real Thanksgiving isn't strongest when God takes away everything that makes your heart weary.

Real Thanksgiving is strongest when you live in the weariness, and choose to see the blessings.

Real Thanksgiving is resting in the fact He is God, and we are not.

Real Thanksgiving is standing in the middle of the doubt

In the middle of the challenges,

In the middle of the confusion,

And choosing to see that although we might not know the way out,

That there are small reminders, every day, to point us back towards a God that does.

Real Thanksgiving is resting in that fact, 

And watching for those blessings,

And choosing to be thankful for them.

Caring In The Form Of Casserole

There’s something in Southern women that like to take care of people.

I know I do.

Death in the family?

Bring a casserole.

Someone’s birthday?

Leave a cupcakes sitting on their desk.

Friend getting married?

Attend shower, paying careful attention to the registry to buy something tasteful and useful, while not spending an arm and a leg on the crystal goblets that somehow end up on most registries.

I think it’s something about feeling helpful.

We want people to know we care.

We want people to feel loved.

We want people to feel seen.

But recently, I’ve been thinking about how Jesus cared for people. And sometimes, I think we’re missing what’s most important when it comes to caring for others.

This morning, I was reading a story I’ve read time and time before, and I was struck with a new idea of how Jesus loved.

¹² While Jesus was in one of the towns, a man came along who was covered with leprosy.^[b] When he saw Jesus, he fell with his face to the ground and begged him, “Lord, if you are willing, you can make me clean.”¹³ Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. “I am willing,” he said. “Be clean!” And immediately the leprosy left him. 

Now at first glance, this is like many of the stories of the healing miracles that Jesus performed.

But today, my eyes were drawn to one phrase.

“Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man.”

Leprosy was a terrible disease in Jesus’ time.

A skin disease that caused terrible pain.

A disease that was incurable.

A disease that was visible, seen by anyone that passed you on the street.

A disease that left you an outcast.

This man had probably suffered from this disease from years.

And that day, he was at his wits end.

That day, he threw himself on the ground in front of the man that was the answer to years of prayers.

A man that was a celebrity of his time.

That day, this man ran threw a large crowd,

Probably causing mass panic at the risk of causing an outbreak,

And threw himself at the feet of Jesus.

And Jesus healed him.

But that’s not the part of the story that touched my heart today.

The part of the story that caused my eyes to well up with tears was that Jesus looked down at this feet,

Saw a man suffering with from an incurable disease,

Who had been an outcast for many years,

Who probably hadn’t been treated with dignity or respect since the disease showed it’s first signs,

Who probably hadn’t had any sort of human contact,

And reached down and touched him.

The exact opposite of what was socially acceptable,

Or medically wise,

Of what to do when it came to dealing with people with leprosy.

I know Jesus could have healed him without touching him.

Jesus could have simply blinked and the man’s ailment would have disappeared.

But I think Jesus looked down at his feet,

And saw a man suffering,

A man lonely,

A man downtrodden,

And saw what he needed most was not healing,

But to feel like he was cared for,

Loved,

Seen.

And so he reached out and touched him, an act the man probably hadn’t felt in years.

And so this morning, I want to rethink the way I care for others.

I want to take a step back,

Look at those around me,

And take a moment to think,

What will make this person feel cared for?

What will make this person feel loved?

What will make this person feel seen?

And while it may come in the shape of a casserole, or a cupcake, or a crystal goblet,

I think most of the time it may be as simple as reaching out and holding someone’s hand.

Or sitting with someone while they cry,

Or having a dance party to celebrate a big accomplishment.

I want to care the way Jesus cared.

I want to love the way Jesus loved.

And that comes with taking time to stop,

And see what that person might really need.

Vacation Bible School Wisdom

Anyone who has been to any sort of Vacation Bible School has probably heard this song,

Sang along,

Done the dance moves that goes with it ( and by dance moves, I mean hand motions. Everyone knows Christians don't dance...kidding I swear).

This is the day, this is the day
That the lord has made, that the lord has madeI will rejoice,I will rejoiceAnd be glad in it, glad in it



I've sung those words many times.

And maybe it was because I always attended Vacation Bible School in the morning,

But that is the time of day that I always associated with this song.

In my head, I pictured myself getting out of bed,

The sun slowly rising,

Birds chirping outside of my window,

And as my feet touch the floor, 

I cry these words out in joy,

Because I know that the day ahead is one that the Lord has made.

And for some reason,

Today, as I was leaving the gym,

A task that I disdain at times,

After my morning didn't go as planned,

I realized that these words of rejoicing weren't meant for the morning, 

When our day lies ahead,

As our feet touch the floor,

And we are full of hope about the wonderful possibilities that lie before us.

These words I think would be best used at night,

When our day is behind us,

As our head touches the pillow,

And we already have seen what that day had in store for us.

Because let's face it,

Some days don't turn out the way you want them to.

Sometimes, your gym runs out of towels and you have to use paper towels stolen from the bathroom as a makeshift towel so you can shower before going to work. ( I am guilty of this, on this very morning).

Sometimes, things at work are hard.

Sometimes, conversations don't go the way you planned.

Sometimes people hurt you.

Sometimes, the day leaves you disappointed.

And these are the times where it is most important that we learn to rejoice, 

And gain the ability to look back on the day and realize,

That through the hard,

And through the unplanned,

And through the hurt,

And through the disappointment,

That this day was still the day that Lord has made.

I think it's through the rejoicing,

And the gladness,

Even when everything goes wrong,

And recognizing that even when things don't go the way we had hoped they would when we heard those birds chirping outside our window,

That we learn to have true faith.

I think it's finding happiness in the days that the Lord has made,

Even when those days look nothing like the ones we would have made for ourselves,

That we learn to have true joy.

And we learn to recognize,

And place our hope in the fact that our stories aren't written by our pen.

That our stories,

And our days,

Are written by the One who told the sun to come up,

And the birds to chirp,

And that even on the hardest day,

There is a reason for every tear,

Every heartbreak,

And every disappointment.

Even if we don't always understand it in the moment.

That is the starting place of true hope,

And true joy,

And true faith.

Believing that everyday was one that the Lord has indeed made, specifically with us in mind.

And We can rejoice and be glad in that.

Dreaming in Secret

Lately, I've been dreaming.

Dreaming about what life could hold.

Dreaming about where life could lead me.

Dreaming about what part I'm going to play in this story God is writing.

25 feels like an age of dreaming.

But it's an age of hidden dreaming.

Because honestly, I thought when I was 25 I was  supposed to have everything figured out.

I've  gotten through those rough years right after college,

The years where the "real world" felt huge and daunting, and I yearned for the safety of dorm rooms and dining halls.

I've had, and shortly after, quit my first big girl job, in search of something I truly loved.

I've gone back to school, and become a "master".

And during those three years, I barely took time to sit back and dream, because I was so busy chasing what I thought life was supposed to look like.

I was so busy chasing after life that I never took a step back to sit and dream about what I actually wanted my life to look like.

And now, I'm here, 25, and I've talked to my friends, and one thread seems to bind us all together.

None of us have anything figured out,

And all of us are too afraid to admit it.

We're so busy chasing after life that were afraid if we take a step back and say,

" Right now, I don't love my job, I'm not in my true calling, but I'm working hard everyday while I'm dreaming about what I want my life to look like"

We'll look unsuccessful,

Or lazy,

Or wasteful of that degree we spent so much money on that we're not even using.

We dream in secret, but then take no steps to create those dreams, out of fear someone will figure out that we have no idea what is going on.

We think- We're 25. Shouldn't I have this thing called life figured out by now?

And I have to wonder why we put so much pressure on ourselves when we have a God that loves dreaming.

We have a God that encourages dreaming.

We have a God that doesn't want us to dream in secret,

But gather together and use those passions and talents and skills He have us to be a part of His bigger story.

And sometimes, our role in that bigger story might not use our degree.

It might not use our past work experience.

It might simply use our passions,

Our goals,

And a lot of hard work to get where we finally want to be.

Take David for instance.

He became King.

He defeated a giant.

And the only skill set he had was knowing how to heard sheep.

And even when he knew he was destined for more,

Destined to become King and lead his country,

He had to continue to tend sheep while he prepared for his greater role.

Sometimes to lead a country, you need to start by knowing  how to take care of a pasture of sheep.

Sometimes to write the next great novel you may have to spend time writing down orders on a coffee cup.

Sometimes, to start that nonprofit, you have to start by taking a night class while simultaneously working your day job.

But you never will know what God might be preparing you for until you just admit that you have no idea what He's preparing you for.

But that you're continuing to dream,

And work,

And trust.

So, I'm 25.

And I'm dreaming about what I want life to look like.

And I'm working everyday,

And trusting that I serve a God that delights in all of those things.

I don't want 25 to be my year of secretly dreaming.

I want it to be a year of open dreaming, figuring out where my passions and gifts and skills truly lie,

And preparing for what God has in store.

Labor Pains

I've never been one that likes pain.

In fact, I don't know many people that would say that they truly enjoy pain,

That they truly enjoy hurt.

Pain and hurt are the things we have been taught to fear.

Fall on the playground and scrape your knee?

Mommy is the first one there to give it a kiss and make it feel better.

Your prom date breaks up with you a week before prom?

Take a night to cry over a pint of Ben and Jerry's and then put on a brave face, and show up to that dance looking as hot as possible.

From the very beginning, we've learned that pain and hurt should be feared,

Run from,

Avoided at any cost.

No one likes to feel pain,

But what if, instead of running, we took a moment and breathed in the pain and the hurt.

What if, instead of hiding, we took a moment to be grateful for the pain and the hurt?

And I know that sounds crazy,

How could anyone be grateful for pain?

How could anyone be grateful for hurt?

Pain is a result of something you did wrong.

Hurt is a result of something gone terribly amiss.

But what if, we've had the wrong viewpoint on pain this whole time?

What if pain isn't a result of something you've done wrong,

What if it's a precursor to something that God wants to make right?

What if hurt isn't a result of something gone terribly amiss,

What if it's a preview of God's favor, getting you ready for something that is going to be greater anything then you could have ever planned?

What if this pain, and this hurt, is actually a promise,

A promise for something greater,

A promise for something glorious,

A promise for something new.

And today, Mother's Day of all days,  I'm reminded of this.

No mother will tell you they enjoyed the hours of labor they endured.

But instead will say every second was worth it.

No mother will tell you they wish for the pain,

But instead will tell you they'd do it all over again.

Because without that labor,

And the tears,

And the cries,

They never would have felt that moment of pure joy,

That moment of unreal peace,

Holding that new life in their arms,

Something that wasn't there before,

A direct result of their pain,

Sometimes, through our pain, God will do a great work,

And through our labor,

And our tears,

And our cries,

God is at work,

Bringing something new into our lives.

Today I choose to look at pain,

And hurt,

Not as a punishment,

But as evidence of God's grace,

As evidence of God's faithfulness,

As evidence of God's work in my life.

Pain is never easy.

But it might sting a little less if instead of focusing on the hurt,

You choose to anxiously await to see what the Lord desires to do through it.

A Starbucks Sized Prayer

I’ve said it on here before, but I am a woman that loves surprises.

And I’m not talking about the large, grandiose surprises.

I’m talking about the small, thoughtful surprises.

The note left on your car when your friend knows you’re having a bad day.

The text with words of encouragement.

Your favorite soft drink left sitting on your desk, just because it’s Tuesday.

Those acts are so small.

But on days when you really need them, they mean so much.

They mean even in the pace of this busy world, someone took the time to think about you.

In the hustle and bustle of the daily grind, someone went out of his or her way to do something kind for you.

That even in a world that is full of so many people, someone sees you, someone so very small, and does a simple act that makes you feel seen, and known, and, for lack of a better word, so very big.

These are the kind of surprises I think that God loves.

And this morning,

I was in awe of how small our God can be.

I know that sounds a little sacrilegious.

How can I say that the God of the universe is small?

How can I call the Lord that can hold the Earth in the palm of His hand small?

And while it may sound disrespectful,

When I really think about it,

I think that God longs for those times when we realize how small He is.

We know how large He is.

How can you look at the ocean and think that we serve anything but?

How can you look up at the night sky, peppered with stars that He calls by name, and not recognize His sheer magnitude?

Large is easy.

Sometimes it’s seeing Him in the small that’s hard.

But this morning, as I was praying,  sitting in Starbucks, drinking my iced coffee, asking for a heart of gratitude,

Praying for a heart that doesn’t always come with wants and requests but can simply sit and be grateful for the many blessings that I’ve be given,

That this song came on my Pandora,

A song with lyrics so perfectly in sync to my prayer at that very moment,

That I knew this could only be a small surprise from our very big God.

“Love is an ocean. Hope is a promise. Light is overtaking. Grace is overwhelming. You chase us into the dark and Lord we’re grateful, oh we’re grateful. You’ve captured our hearts with Your Love, oh Lord You’re faithful, You are Faithful. Nothing that we’ve ever done was too much for You to handle on the Cross. We’re grateful for your Love."

And it was in this moment, that I had to sit back and be grateful for a God that is small enough that he hears prayers whispered in the corner of Starbucks,

And chooses to respond.

It was at this moment that I realized that I serve a God that isn’t just big enough to control the oceans,

But I also serve a God that is small enough to care about the minuet details of my day.

It was at this moment that I realized that I serve a God that isn’t just big enough to call every star in the sky by name,

But I also serve a God that is small enough to call me by name,

And to surprise me with answers to Starbucks sized prayers,

Just because it’s Monday.

And just because He wants me to see, that even in a world that is full of so many people, the Lord of the universe sees me, someone so very small,

And that he’s not too big to do a simple act that makes me feel seen, and known, and, for lack of a better word, so very big.