Boots

Meg slowly slid into the truck this day, looking deep in thought, not saying a word. Usually quite upbeat after our time at Raven Rock Ranch, this day Meg looked as if she was about to cry. I turned the corner onto the tree lined gravel driveway, heading towards home, hoping she would open up but silence met me and begged not to leave. Almost home, I finally asked, “Are you OK?" Without a word, she turned to face the window, but I still saw a single tear fall from her dark chocolate eyes and her petal pink lower lip began to quiver. Searching my mind for the answer so she would not have to breathe it to life herself, I asked, “Did something happen at the ranch today that upset you?” Her gaze lingered on her folded hands resting on her lap as she shook her head no and then yes. I usually try not to pry or rush her into sharing something before she is ready, but it was clear she was hurting and as her mother is it hard to let her marinate in that level of pain.  “What, honey? Tell me about it”. When she opened her mouth to speak her words quickly became uncontrolled heavy sobs.  I could only make out a single word: boots. Now I understood.

This day she had been gifted with riding boots to borrow while we are at the ranch. Sandy, owner and operator of Raven Rock Ranch, casually mentioned that she had bought some riding boots for the children who visit the ranch, feeling it was important because of the angle in which the child’s heels rest in the stirrups and the message it sends to the horse. Meg had been wearing rubber rain boots which are cute and keep moisture out, but would not protect her feet from her four-footed angel, Rusty’s 1200 pound body if he were to misstep or offer the freedom to dip her heel in the stirrups. At any rate, Sandy told Meg the boots were in the tack room and to find a pair that would fit.

Meg later told me the boots were still in the box—brand new. “I knew Sandy expected me to wear them and I knew they were better for riding, and for Rusty too, so I wore them, but I felt guilty for wearing them”. She did not have to explain any further for I, too, have known this kind of guilt---an unworthiness for receiving something without any merit on my part--But Meg did continue. She asked, “Why would she do something so nice for me? She really doesn’t know me that well and she spent her money on me”. Without a thought, I softly replied, “Because she loves you, Meg…because she loves you and wants the best for you”.  She was quiet the rest of the ride home and even for awhile once home. I imagine that she was processing that someone she has only known a short time genuinely cares about her. Later that night, when her Daddy came home from work and asked about the ranch, the first thing she mentioned, with those dancing, chocolate eyes, was the riding boots! This time joy oozed with each spoken word, not guilt.

Misplaced guilt, guilt that is not warranted because we have done nothing wrong or dishonored God in anyway, sneaks in to rob us of the freedom we are meant to live in Christ. It destroys our joy and binds us to feelings of unworthiness. Misplace guilt isolates us, sentencing us to a life deprive of acceptance for who we are in Christ.  It focuses on self, rather than on Christ. Simply, misplaced guilt is crippling.

I have known for a long time that Meg believes she has no value, that she was an accident, and is loved only out of obligation and to have watched her agonize unnecessarily over a precious, thoughtful gift broke my heart--- and yet I wondered if this gesture of kindness would be the spark she needs to expose her value.  We haven’t been back to the ranch since this day, but I am eager to see how she feels when she pulls on those leather riding boots later this week.  It is my prayer that she will wear them in freedom and not out of obligation or guilt---that she will embrace this beautiful gift and see her worth.

We do not need to feel guilt for something that honors God.  The only way to battle the crippling effects of misplaced guilt is to live rooted in the absolute, unshakable belief in the promises of God, hold them close to our hearts, and never doubt Who He is; what He has done and will do for us. This is called “living by faith”—having complete confidence in “future grace” and a life of freedom from crippling guilt. Doubt is a tactic Satan loves, absolutely loves to employ as it keeps us from living fully vested in Christ.

Meg talks constantly about Raven Rock Ranch, Rusty: her angel in a horse suit (!) and Sandy, her faithful sidekick and mentor constantly as each element of this piece of heaven on earth has gifted her with a joy that I have never, never seen before. The boots…she will wear them every visit and I believe they will serve as a reminder of her value---someone loves her and cares about her, not because they have to, but because they want to—they choose to! 

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9).
Can we, like Paul, not only find contentment in weakness, hardships, persecution, and calamities, but also view these circumstances as opportunities to exalt Christ? Our value is intricately woven into this scripture and begs us to keep our focus on Christ, the Author and Perfector of our faith and not on our self. It is here that we see our value. He chose us!  He loves us! He forgives us! He blesses us…even with boots!

Past, Present, and Future Grace

"Future grace”—grace that we can confidently depend on because we have evidence of grace that we have already been gifted with in faith—“past grace”, is the essence of Romans 8:28, perhaps one of the most recognized pillars of promise in the Bible. “And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love Him, who have been called according to His purpose”. Though sacred in the hearts and minds of many believers, it is also a passage of scripture easily discounted in times of great difficulty.

This “all encompassing promise is massively rooted in the irrevocable work of bygone grace”, writes author and Pastor John Piper about this precious promise. Don’t miss this—the grace we have already received cannot be undone, it cannot be taken away, or diminished with time. It is the evidence we crave to our unseen hope. It is as permanent as are the nail pierced scares on Jesus’ hands and the love in which His incomprehensible grace is gifted.  I picture Jesus sitting at the right hand of the Father, tracing the scares with his finger as he whispers our name. “For you”, He says, “all for you, my best and nothing less. To you I give my unsurpassing promise that all things, yes, Beloved, all things will work together for those who love me and are called according to my purpose”.

Bygone grace. The word “bygone” as a description of grace pierces my heart, inflicting a convicting, saddening pain; for the word’s undercurrent is a wistful longing for what once was as if it was unlikely to reoccur.   Grace’s life-giving breath tends to become deflated as we move through one trial into another. The vibrancy of our gratitude pastels with time and our zeal wanes. I am reminded and encouraged by the Old Testament story of Joshua leading twelve men, one from each tribe, across the Jordan River into the Promise Land. When God gave Joshua this instruction, He also told him that each of these men were to “take up twelve stones from the middle of the Jordan, from right where the priests stood, and carry them over with you and put them down at the place where you stay tonight” (Joshua 4:2-3). Can you picture the stones? I am sure my imagination has been tainted by Sunday School felt board stories, but I picture them being rather significant in size. They had to have been, for they were to be piled up, bringing attention to their significant meaning: God had grace on them in a mighty way! Their children and their children’s children would ask what the stones meant and thus began a beautiful story of the grace that God bestowed on them. 

What I find encouraging is that these stone markers were not a one time event. The men of the Old Testament often built alters or pillars of stones, architecture of past grace, as a reminder of God’s sovereignty and confidence in future grace. Can you imagine, walking along the stone markers with your child and sharing the countless acts of grace that God had gifted us with? I can practically hear the child begging, “Oh, tell me about the time when God…”, as her eyes dance in anticipation of a story she has surely heard before. The story doesn’t get old; it breathes life into the next generation. For the child, the stories are the beginning of an intimate love relationship with their Heavenly Father. For the adult, it not only reminds us of God’s ever watchful eye and guiding hand, but gives us the courage to go into battle confidently…confidently, because we are certain that His grace will once again wash over us completely.

Allowing myself to nestle deeply in the precious promise of Romans 8:28, I find myself deeply grateful that my merciful God would even look my way, not to mention sacrificing His Son for me and cheer me on in this fleeting life, all the while promising me that all things will work together for those who love Him. Humbly, I attempt to thank Him for this bountiful gift. My words are feeble as they could never portray what my heart feels. Grace is the receiving something we don’t deserve—we haven’t earned it, we can’t do it ourselves. The definition usually stops here. However, I believe that we cannot repay grace. We are not meant to, perhaps it is impossible. Instead, we are meant to treasure the gift, allowing it to nurture the roots that are required to confidently and authentically live within this verse.  The deeper the roots, the stronger the structure, so it is with us. The deeper our roots are in Christ, the more unshakable we become in life’s inevitable trials.

The world offers a mirage of substitutes, offering quick fixes, temporary hope and happiness. With time, its shallow root system decays and we find ourselves back at square one. Living, really living in the massive, unshakable structure of Romans 8:28, we have confidence in our sovereign God, a refuge, security, and hope that only God can graciously give.  This is not to say that as Christians we will not suffer. We most assuredly will suffer. We will face trials of all kinds. It is in these trails, in our pain that “God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him”. That’s the goal: to bring glory to Christ, to magnify His name in all seasons. Please don’t miss this, as it is the heartbeat of our faith.

Without a doubt, there have been times when we, as Christians---those called by God for his purpose--have not been rescued in the way we hoped or escaped a painful situation. Bad things do happen to good people. God is not the author of evil. He will, however, use those situations to bring glory to His name. We can have complete confidence in the fact that what He began in us, he will complete. He will work all things together for our good because “[our]calling guarantees [our] justification; and [our] justification in turn, guarantees [our] glorification; and glorification is the ultimate fulfillment of Romans 8:28—endless ages of seeing God make everything in the universe serve our holy joy in Him”. (John Piper)

With each stone marker, I will praise Him for His sovereign grace, the fulfilling of His promises, and know with absolute certainty He will continue to work all things together in my life until Romans 8:28 is fulfilled. Joy floods my soul at this thought!

“We shall bring our Lord most glory if we get from Him much grace. If I have much faith, so that I can take God at His word…I shall greatly honor my Lord and King”. Charles Spurgeon

Serving: A Demonstration of God's Grace

Fear usually stops us dead in our tracks. It’s in our protective nature not put ourselves in harm’s way or in a situation that may bring about pain. Most of the time, this is a healthy fear. However, when fear keeps us on the sidelines of an opportunity to serve Christ, we communicate that we do not trust that God is in control. I have sat here this week in deep contemplation over an amazing opportunity to serve Christ in an area that has been a dream of mine for countless years. Stifled by fear, I said nothing to anyone for several days about this opportunity.

In my solitude, I reasoned that I was not good enough, that I would get in the way of what Christ desires to do through this ministry. I reasoned that my motives, though pure on this side of the opportunity, may become off kilter and at some point I would serve on my own strength and/or for my own pleasure rather than God’s. Essentially, I reasoned I would fail in one regard or another.

Isn’t that just like us: to think about our role, rather than God’s role? How I struggle with that! I measure myself against a monumental task and automatically see that I am not equipped, not big enough, and strong enough to take on such as task. I see this before I see that God IS…God IS! God is bigger than it all and it is for His perfect glory that we serve and in our need for Him, He is magnified. How easy it is to lose this perspective, even if temporary.

Twice this week the parable of the three talents was brought up in discussion. To refresh your memory, the story goes a little something like this:

As a man was getting ready to depart on a journey, he entrusted each one of his servants a portion of his property. To the first servant, he gave five talents, to the second servant he gave two talents, and to the third servant he gave one talent. The story goes on to tell that the servant with five talents invested his money and earned an additional five talents. The servant with two talents also put his talents to work and, like the first servant, doubled his investment. The last servant, who had received one talent, buried his talent in the ground.  After a long while, the master returned to settle accounts with his servants. Upon seeing that two of the servants doubled their investments, he praised them saying, “Well done, good and faithful servants! You have been faithful with a few things; I will put you in charge of many things. Come and share in your master’s happiness” (Matthew 25:21).  Then the servant who had buried his one talent approached his master saying, “I know how hard you work. I feared wasting your talent and disappointing you, so I kept it safe for you. Here it is, safe and sound!” The master, angered by the servant’s laziness (perhaps, obsessive cautiousness), said, “You would have been better to have invested the talent in the bank, where I would have at least got a little interest”. Then, he took the talent and gave it to the one who has risked the most.

I don’t know about you, but I certainly see myself in this parable. Fear of failing, fear of disappointing our ever precious Savior is often a tactic Satan employs on those who desire to be faithful in service to Christ.  Fear is not of Christ. Fear isolates. Fear prevents growth.  At this thought… this fact, I can practically hear Him ask, “Will you serve me, even if you suffer, even if you fail by the world’s standards? By trusting me, Beloved, you will be my precious demonstration of my holiness. Trust me to go about my Father’s business through you”.

Feeling convicted for elevating my role over Christ’s once again, I pour out my heart to Him, confessing my pride, my inadequacies, my fears and ask Him to take it all… My Precious Redeemer, empty me of anything unpleasing to you, mold me and shape me into a vessel that will not only be filled with your living water, but to be of use.  I want desperately to invest your talents that you have bestowed upon me, not to hide them out of fear of failure. Lord, my ultimate desire is to be the servant that stands tall and confidently says, “Here I am! Send me! Use me!” With this petition, my hearts finds rest on the knowledge that God does not leave to uncertain risk, our growth and perserverance in holiness. Rather, He says, "I will put my Spirit within you, and will cause you to walk in my statutes and be careful to observe my ordinances" (Ezekiel 36:27). I find incredible comfort in knowing it is God who works in us to will and do His good pleasure (Hebrews 13:21).

Where I see God working is my call to also serve there. It is there I am to invest His talents that He has lent me.  How I desire to not let those talents go void because of fear. Instead, it is my hope that I will one day hear Him say, “Well done, my good and precious servant”.

Trust

I am certain the imagine of Meg gently laying her head on the nape of Rusty’s neck  as we were setting out to leave the Ranch today will forever be imbedded in my mind. I hope it is at least for it captured a tender moment between a hurting girl and a horse who knows pain all too well himself. Hugging Rusty after a gentle meandering through trails blazing with harvest colors and crisp leaves under foot this afternoon; I saw a connection between them that I did not see so readily last week. There was trust.

Trust usually takes time to build. Though it has only been two weeks, an unyielding bond has been made between girl and horse. Perhaps there is an unspoken language rooted in deep respect for what one another have been through. There is tenderness toward one another, a beautiful dance of love and respect, of safety and harmony. Nothing, nothing could be more beautiful to witness as the melody of grace fills the air.

In sharing our experience at Raven Rock Ranch, I have repeatedly said, “There is just something incredibly remarkable happening there”. The foundation itself was built upon Christ and without a doubt; His grace is touching hearts, kids and parents alike, on a monumental scale. This place is different. This is not a temporary fix, this is life-giving. This is Hope. And it is here that my Meg is learning to trust!

Until today, Meg has not known this kind of trust. She lives on the defensive, always, as a way to protect her heart from being hurt further. She lives from the place of doubt and discouragement. Her wounds are not only raw; they run deep, to the core of who she is. She has been in desperate need of our Great Physician for years, though she cannot see that. As her parents, we have tried countless things from extracurricular activities to help build her self esteem to counseling and medication; all which leave her with temporary results, temporary hopes.

Watching Rusty run to the fence to greet Meg is an image of how it is when we show up to spend time with God. He RUNS to us. It doesn’t matter where we have been, what we have done or what has been done to us. He is jubilant in our return! In our return, He see our hearts and the dark, searing pain and is not spooked or surprised by it, rather the melodious dance of grace continues as He so gently whispers in our ear, “…by my wounds you have been healed, my Beloved (Isaiah 53:5). Trust in me.

Trusting in the promise that God will work all things together for those who love and have been called according to His purpose not only brings Him immense and holy pleasure (Romans 8:28), but also reminds me that it is for HIS good and perfect pleasure we seek, not ours, that though our hopes for healing may or may not take place, His glory is the ultimate goal. It has taken me a long time to see that even when my prayers, hopes, and dreams are not answered as I would like, that God is still God. He is still merciful, still trustworthy.

I know that I can do nothing on my own strength to bring God glory. I need Him. Honestly, I am in great need of Him. I have waited for His strength, His courage, knowing fully that He, in His perfect timing, would supply all that I need. And without a doubt, I see it so clearly at Raven Rock Ranch that I cannot keep my joy hidden (unfortunately my joy comes out in tears, which is embarrassing!). I have put my hope in Him. He is my Refuge, my Strength, and my Treasure.  “From Him and through Him and to Him are all things; to Him be glory forever and ever”(Romans 11:36).

Trust is the first step toward healing and today, Meg took it with Rusty.

Hope

The fragrance of Hope filled the air, smelling like a sweet bewilderment of musky sweat and dust; the smell of horses to be exact.  Thursday was a day I found myself unable to stop smiling, constantly biting the inside of my cheek to keep tears from spilling out, and silently praying prayers of immeasurable gratitude as I watched my dear Meg nuzzle noses with Rusty, a copper colored horse at Raven Rock Ranch, a place where God’s grace is extravagantly gifted to children who are struggling or are at risk.

Usually a horse that sits back to see what will be asked of him, this day Rusty, a rescue horse who was gravely neglected, RAN to see the new girl! It was love at first sight! Meg, a nearly thirteen year old girl, has been living in the dark pit of depression and anxiety for quite some time, rarely smiles or engages in conversation, smiled constantly this day! As her face beamed, my heart swelled with thanksgiving for the precious gift of Hope that lingered in the air. It was obvious that my sweet Meg was still in there somewhere.

As I watched Meg’s short and gentle brush strokes send dust from Rusty’s back into the filtered sunbeams in the barn, I was reminded of that morning’s reading, specifically Psalm 147:11 “The Lord takes pleasure in those who hope in His love”. Biting my quivering lip, I allowed my mind to bask in the Truth. I could practically see the smiling face of God as I breathed deeply His bountiful life-giving grace He was bestowing on my family at that very moment!

What pleases God is not our work for Him, but our need for Him.  For years, I have begged Him to rescue my daughter from the foothold that Satan clearly has in her life and for years I did not see Him working. I worked, on my own strength a good share of the time, exhausting my resources and shattering my ill-placed hope time and time again. Brokenhearted and completely humbled, I whispered aloud, “God, I know you love her more than I do. How it must grieve your heart to watch her like this. I know that You are bigger than this. I need You so desperately, she needs You so desperately”. Then, there on my knees, I opened my hands toward the sky as a way to say, I am not holding on to this anymore. I am handing it to you.  I trust in you alone. I will wait for you.

Trembling as I sat there in front of my large picture window, the place I love to sit and pray, the words of an old hymn from my childhood, “How Great Thou Art” came to mind and I once again found myself in tears as I praised His precious and holy name.  God is so good. He is so merciful. Regardless of what life brings, I am eternally devoted to Him and will magnifying Him, His mercy, grace, and love at all costs! Who God is does not change because of circumstances. He is the same yesterday, today and forever (Hebrews 13:8). He is unchanging.

Once home, I stripped off my barn clothes only to catch the fragrance of Hope once again. Instead of tossing my clothes into the wash, I held them to my nose and breathed deeply the scent of one of the most precious gifts my family has ever been given: God’s tender mercy. I cannot offer God anything but my humble praise and gratitude. I pray that in this and through this experience at Raven Rock Ranch that His glory will be magnified as His grace satisfies the hearts of all who ride there!

Hoping in Christ’s love is the fragrance of His grace and this week it smelled like horses!

Chosen

What do you say to a nearly thirteen year old girl, who is the product of rape, as deep sobs spill out along with the words, “I was not planned, I am a mistake, not worthy of love and attention.  I am the product of a monster and now you are stuck raising me”? Though I have known she struggles with her identity, I never knew my own daughter believed she was loved out of obligation. I tenderly cradle her face in my hands and look deep into her eyes and say, “Though you were not my plan, you were God’s plan and His plans are far better than anything I could possibly imagine. He does not make mistakes. He does not make accidents. He is the author of all that is good. ‘What Satan intends for evil, God intends for good’ (Genesis 50:20) and without a doubt, Meg, “God works for the good of those who love Him and have been called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28)

“You were chosen, Dear Meg. You were elected to be my daughter and more importantly, you were elected to be the daughter of the Most High, our Precious, precious Savior. God knew your ‘inmost being and knit you together in my womb’. I cannot help but to praise Him constantly, Meg, because you are ‘fully and wonderfully made’. Sure, you were made in sin, but that did not escape God’s ever watchful eye or what He was planning for you.  He saw your unformed body in my belly and He smiled as He thought to himself, ‘How wonderful it will be to watch my plan for this ever precious girl to unfold. Boy, do I have so much in store for her’. Meg, God thinks about you constantly. You can never escape His thoughts or the love He has for you, as they well outnumber the grains of sand on every beach. God made you on purpose and for a purpose. You were chosen by Him! (Psalm 139)

Her sobs slow and she is listening intently, not objecting to this truth. I shared more of her story, a story we rarely talk about. We have only given her enough information to answer her on-going questions about her conception, for fear of sharing something she is not ready to hear. However, we missed sharing the most important part of her story. I share with her that her story actually begins years before she was even born. Her Daddy and I tried for three years, approximately 36 times to have her. We wanted another baby more than anything. She was my all consuming thought and desire. I prayed for her constantly all those years, though I did not know her. It was only short time prior to the rape that we were told we would not be able to have any more children. I gave away my crib and resolved that this was God’s plan for us and our desire for another child would instead come through adoption. Heartbroken, I deeply mourned something I felt I lost.

“Meg, you have no idea how much I wanted you. You were not planned to come into our lives like you did. I didn’t know what to expect. Though I did know you were a blessing, for God says repeatedly that “All children are a blessing from the Lord.”(Psalm 127:3) You are my pearl, my treasure of great value formed from a very horrific situation. I loved you before you were born and I love you more with each passing day, not because I have to, but because I cannot help but to love who you are. I choose to love you. Both sobbing now, I kissed her face a million times saying over and over again, I love you, I love you, I love you.

This morning as I was reading, God brought me to a complete stand still as my mind was taken to a place I never anticipated. Reading about God in His sovereignty, choosing to set His free and merciful love upon us, I saw that time and time again throughout scripture that His love is not constrained by anything we do, by our virtue, or are anything we are born into or born as a result of. Christ choosing us has everything to do with His pleasure and nothing to do with our merit. What extravagant grace that He would choose to love us despite our human abilities or inabilities. “He [God] is free to choose whomever He pleases, even if He has to create a child by a miraculous birth” (John Piper). We see this clearly in the Old Testament story of Abraham and Sarah when God’s promise is fulfilled in a divine and miraculous way when he blesses them with their son, Isaac, though Sarah was decades past child-bearing age.

Upon reading these words, I let out the biggest gasp and held my heart for I felt so strongly that these words were meant for me to read this very day! These words are not a new concept to me by any means. I guess I just needed to see them in view of a different light, in view of something so close to my heart---something so very, very personal. Perhaps, like Meg, we wonder if we are loved out of obligation. Take heart and bask, Beloved, in the fact that if you know Jesus as your Savior, you have been chosen and He dances over you with singing and covers you with His wings. You are His! You were created on purpose and for a purpose.  He foreknew you and chose you to be conformed to the likeness of His Son.” (Romans 8:29)

Meg is a “Child of Promise”. God not only formed her, has plans to prosper her and not to harm her (Jeremiah 29:11), but has chosen her as His daughter.  He chose her! He chose her! He didn’t choose her out of obligation or by any merit of her own, but strictly for His own pleasure. He loves her because He chooses to love her.  He delights over her. And so do I! A millions times over, I would chose her.

Object of Love

I admit that I am often self-focused, rather than God-focused. What I mean by that is that I tend to view God through my value, my unworthiness more that I see Him and Him alone. I tend to pair us together: Him, being holy and completely worthy and me being an unworthy sinner. Marinating in this truth is healthy to some degree. It is healthy when it propels us toward repentance and/or to worship for it glorifies the Lord richly when we acknowledge Him, His authority, and His gracious, extravagant love that He lavished on us through the gift of His perfect Son and continues to bestow upon us daily in a multitude of ways. However, I sometimes get caught up more in my role than in His role during this contemplation.  I see myself and my sin before I see Him and His glory.

Only in God’s perfect timing would I be lead to read the words penned by Scottish theologian and minster, Henry Scougal , in his book, “The Life of God in the Soul of a Man” (1677). In it, he writes, “The worth and excellency of a soul is to be measured by the object of its love.” If you know me even a little, you know I have not put these words to rest, but pondered them deeply for weeks.  As Scougal writes, he details, to the best of our human abilities, the passions, obsessions, and complete adoration Christ cradles in the palm of His nail pierced hand. As Christians, we have the belief that He is absolutely, positively passionate about us, His Son, and that His name is known throughout the world. We understand to a miniscule degree the passions of Christ.

Where, I wondered, have I placed my love? Scougal continues to push me into deeper reflection with his words, “The most ravishing pleasures, the most solid and substantial delights that human nature is capable of, are those which arise from the endearments of a well-placed and successful affection”, meaning that when our love is well-placed, our soul’s pleasures will not be surpassed. It is here that excellency is revealed. I wish I could say that my love and devotion was always placed in God. It is not. I lose sight of Him and my view of Him becomes clouded my by inadequacies, sin, and/or taking Him for granted.

In the quiet of the early morning, as the sun was just cresting the horizon, I was so intensely touched by the splendor of God that tears flooded my eyes and a peace I have not known for some time overcame me. I shook my head as I choked back the tears and whispered aloud, “Lord, there is just something about you…” That day I looked for Him constantly. I had seen Him and I could not help but to want to see more of Him. “You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart” Jeremiah 29:13.  I saw Him alright! It was as if I was beholding His glory for the first time and now I cannot help but to see Him everywhere. I see His majestic glory in the rugged mountains, knowing the forces over countless years that formed them, the trees, in variety, in a manifold of greens, and the shadows that move with the orbiting Earth as the massive sun continues to shine constantly. I see His glory in the glittering stars far too numerous for me to count. I see His glory in the vastness and depth of the ocean and the power that pushes the mass of the water’s waves mile after mile. I see it in my kids as they laugh. The human body with all its complex systems working together…I am awed and left breathless as a quickening in my heart revels in His beauty. He is absolutely majestic! And it has nothing to do with me.

  “I Can Only Imagine” one of the most beautiful songs written by MercyMe, ponders our reaction upon seeing Christ face to face. The chorus resonates with my own questions:

Surrounded by Your glory, what will my heart feel
Will I dance for You Jesus or in awe of you be still
Will I stand in Your presence or to my knees will I fall
Will I sing hallelujah, will I be able to speak at all

I love this song! And in light of seeing Christ so vividly these past weeks here on Earth, I cannot help but to ask the same questions the song poses… seeing Him, knowing Him, loving Him, how on Earth could I carry on as if I did not see Him to begin with? It is my absolute hope and desire to magnify Him at all costs; at all costs in everything I say and do.

The splendor of our King is evident all around us. We are in His very presence. I am guilty of losing sight of that. I am guilty about letting my role in our relationship dictate my actions, rather than reveling in Christ’s role. All I want is Him. He is enough, more than enough for me.

One of my greatest hopes in life is that people will see, feel, and hear something different in my life that can only be explained by the presence of Christ dwelling within my heart. I want whatever they know about me to point them to Christ. I want them to see that He is the object of my love and I am wholly devoted to Him.

Fear or Faith?

“For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of sound mind”. 2 Timothy 1:7

I have to be honest and admit that though I have heard these words countless times in my life, even memorized them, I have not taken them to heart and pondered them deeply, until this week. These are words to live by, to hold sacred-- deep within our souls to combat those times when drought, anxiousness, and worry find residency in our hearts and minds. However, I believe most of us don’t readily accept these words. We may even say, “This may be true for him/her, but it is not true for me”. We don’t trust God’s words. Instead we choose, yes choose, to live in fear rather than in faith.

Sitting in a disheveled bedroom, so cluttered that there was nowhere to sit but a small clearing on the floor, I found myself face to face with a tear stained and equally disheveled young girl. It was recently discovered that she had been cutting herself. Feeling completely ill equipped, as this topic was certainly out of my realm of both knowledge and comfortableness; I found myself sharing these very words, though it sounded more like: you have the choice to choose fear or choose faith. When you choose fear, you are clearly saying, “God is not big enough for this situation”.  The girl’s eyes had not made contact with mine for quite some time, but at these words, her eyes shot me a hot and bitter look, as if to say, “That’s not true!”

“That’s not true!” we may say of ourselves when confronted by our own actions. We have a hundred excuses as to why we are in the driver’s seat and Christ is in the passenger’s seat. Somehow we reason that if I just do this or if I just do that, then all will be OK. We may reason that we are helping God or that we need to clean up our lives before we really let Christ take up residency in our heart. Somehow we try to atone for our sins through duty, rather than by repentance.

Because I know so very little about cutting, I found it interesting that this young girl revealed to me that she wanted all the pain and sin to be washed out with the blood. Graphic, I know.  At her words, an image of Jesus’ bruised, bloodied, and broken body on the cross flashed in my mind. I can only speculate that she was attempting to some degree to pay a price for some wrong doing or some injustice that had been done to her.
 
Though not nearly as graphic, we too attempt to find our own salvation or atone for our sins though piling up good works or attempting to living to the letter of the law, rather than to the spirit of the law…payment in some regard for what we have received or to compensate for what we have done. Having accepted Christ into our hearts, we still find ourselves trying to earn something we already have: His acceptance, His unconditional love for us, our eternal salvation.
 
“And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives love lives in God, and God in Him. In this way, love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment, because in this world we are like Him. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love”. 1 John 4:16-18.

The silence compressed heavily on my heart and my mind searched rapidly for the right words to say to this young girl, praying for words of wisdom, I found none.  I reached out to touch her, to comfort her, only for my touch to be rejected. A single tear fell down my cheek and my nose begun to run. Hurting, I could not resist the question…”Does cutting really help relieve your pain? Does it make whatever has happened better?” Without looking up, she straightforwardly said, “No, but it might someday and that’s why I keep trying.”

“And that’s why I keep trying”. Her words felt like a trampling of wild horses across my chest. Though her secret had been discovered, she had no intention of stopping. She believed that this ludicrous act would save her, would take away her sins, that causing herself to bleed would somehow bring her the peace she so, so desperately seeks.  I wonder, if we too, “keep trying” to find that fulfillment, that right combination of works and worship in hopes that we would find God’s favor.  Sure, we know we have it already, but our actions reveal that we don’t trust that knowledge. It is, like this young girl, fear-- a lack of trust that drives us to such unnecessary lengths.

The girl, seeing my tears, softened and moved slightly closer to me, though she still resisted my touch. I smiled a toothless smile and as I did, I fell into such a deep weeping that it seemed impossible to stop.  Once composed, I told her that I had good news for her. Looking back on the situation, I am sure she thought I was a lunatic: sobbing uncontrollably one moment and saying I had good news the next. I told her that someone had already shed all His blood for her. And it would only be His, the perfect Lamb of God, whose blood would work to take away our sins and hurt and to replace them with peace and salvation. Because He did this, she did not have to. Her sacrifice would not earn her anything or take anything away. Because as a young girl, she had already accepted Christ as Lord of her life, she already had acceptance, forgiveness, and salvation. Somehow, like we often do, she lost sight of that. She thought she needed to add to what Christ has already done.

At these words, the girl began to cry. Wiping her nose with her shirt, I wondered what she would say. She said nothing, though she did lay her head on my lap. Her journey is far from over. She will need constant reminding that she already has all she needs in Christ. Perhaps, we too need that reminding. I know I do from time to time as it is entirely too easy for me to add to what Christ has already given to me.  Trusting that He is enough is hard.  Trust takes time and commitment to build.  If we are not spending time in intimate fellowship with Christ, we do not know Him and it becomes easy to start living from a place of fear, because fear is our natural state without Christ.

I ended my time with this girl with the question, “Will you choose to live in fear or will you choose to live in faith? It is a choice we all have to make. Our actions will reveal our choice”. No words were spoken as she hugged me tight.  I pray that the Lord would increase my faith, for there are times I question, times I doubt, and certainly times I live life for me and on my own strength. I want more of Him in my life. I desperately want to live according to what I know rather than what I feel.

Without a doubt, life will bring challenges. These challenges do not separate us from God. Fear separates us from God--and "fear in its purest form is really unbelief, the false conviction that God can't, God won"t...so I must. Faith on the other hand, chooses to believe that God can, God wants to, and God will...so I will choose to trust Him with my life." Faith and fear are mutually exclusive. Only one can rule our hearts.

A Grammar Lesson on Spirituality

We have all heard the saying, “If God closes a door, He opens a window”.  The mentality behind this is to press on, thinking perhaps that God wants us to take a different avenue to gain whatever it is we seek, whatever we believe His will is for us. Simply, this cliché’s intention is to shed hope on whatever difficult situation we currently face. Though greatly debated if God really works like this, I believe it is only through an intimate relationship with Christ that we can really decipher if the door is closed permanently, temporarily, or if climbing through a window is an option.

I admit that when I was a child if my Mom said no to something I wanted, I would go ask my Dad. My dad was my window and my hope rested in him saying yes, and often he did.  I didn’t get away with this seemingly sweet set up for too long. Both Mom and Dad sat me down and talked about how I had not respected either one of them. I did not listen to my mom and I manipulated my dad. The answer was no, but I pressed on until I got what I wanted. I was persistent, immature, and my motive was self seeking. In my heart I knew better. The answer was no, I just didn’t like it. With this blatant disrespect were consequences.  

A few weeks ago I heard this same idea expressed slightly different, “Don’t put a comma where God intends for a period” and “Don’t put a period where God intends for a comma”.  Being a person fascinated with the writing process, linguistics, and all things grammar, this caught my attention. When I was in grade school many of my papers would be returned to me inked up in red pen, “Run on sentence”.  I remember my sixth grade teacher, Mrs. Vaughshultz, telling me that I needed to break my sentences down, use more periods, and not rush my information.  I started writing shorter sentences and yet when I received my paper; I would read comments like, “Choppy sentences”. What? I did not understand. With practice and heeding the red scribbled advice across my papers, I slowly began to understand that there is a relationship between words and meaning; between information and emotion; between me and my words. It is a beautiful dance that takes place on paper. I still misstep….often.

I misstep because I have an agenda. I push to get my idea across without taking into account the relationship between the words and punctuation.  Though I am referring to writing, I believe the same can be said for how we live our lives.  Jeremiah 17:9 reminds us that “The heart is deceitful”.  We are all born with a sinful nature, we are self-seeking in one regard or another.  If left in our natural state we would live our lives as a series of run on sentences because we seek our needs and desires above all else and we fail to stop and consider what and how the Lord will provide a way for us if the door is truly closed.  Like when I was a child, we can often manipulate our circumstances to meet our needs and desires. Thankfully, we are in a process of being sanctified---transformed to reveal more and more of Christ’s character in our lives. Christ promises that what He begins in us, He will complete.

This brings my mind to yet another scripture: Psalm 37:4 “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart”.  The Hebrew word for delight is “agagh”, which means to bend. I thought this interesting because in a very real sense delighting in the Lord means to bend with Him, go with Him, walk with him. In order for us to do this we need to know him. And to know Him is to love him.  We will only obey if we truly love Him.  In this intimacy, His desires become our desires. I love the way the verse ends, “and He will give you the desires of your heart”. The Hebrew word for desire is “chaphets” which is translated from “if it pleases, if you are willing”.  There is no presumption here. This person is pure of heart. This person is not looking for an open window somewhere. There is no manipulation.

I admit I struggle to know when to press on verses when to stop. I do know that when I am walking in step with my heavenly Father I more readily understand what a closed door or a period means. My desires truly reflect His desires. Still God is God and His ways are not our ways. We can attempt to understand our circumstances and trials though His point of view and still be left with countless questions, even feeling betrayed. I believe that this is the place where Satan likes to whisper alternatives to God’s plan to us, (like, “Climb out that window”!) cause us to feel bitter, or jealous even.  We have all be there, done that, manipulated a situation to meet our desires.

I fail continuously, but even then the Lord has abundant grace as He gently corrects me. It is here in my unworthy heart, on bended knee before the cross that I see red strewn across the sunset sky. In it I see the words, “It is finished”, Christ’s final words as He took His last breath.  I do not need more earthy materials; I want more of Him, period.

I cannot end my thoughts here, when Paul’s do so much more justice.  Excerpt from Philippians 3: 8-21 (Message Translation):

Yes, all the things I once thought were so important are gone from my life. Compared to the high privilege of knowing Christ Jesus as my Master, firsthand, everything I once thought I had going for me is insignificant - dog dung. I've dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ 9 and be embraced by him. I didn't want some petty, inferior brand of righteousness that comes from keeping a list of rules when I could get the robust kind that comes from trusting Christ - God's righteousness. 10 I gave up all that inferior stuff so I could know Christ personally, experience his resurrection power, be a partner in his suffering, and go all the way with him to death itself. 11 If there was any way to get in on the resurrection from the dead, I wanted to do it. 12 I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. 13 Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward - to Jesus. 14 I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back. 15 So let's keep focused on that goal, those of us who want everything God has for us. If any of you have something else in mind, something less than total commitment, God will clear your blurred vision - you'll see it yet! 16 Now that we're on the right track, let's stay on it. 17 Stick with me, friends. Keep track of those you see running this same course, headed for this same goal. 18 There are many out there taking other paths, choosing other goals, and trying to get you to go along with them. I've warned you of them many times; sadly, I'm having to do it again. All they want is easy street. They hate Christ's Cross. 19 But easy street is a dead-end street. Those who live there make their bellies their gods; belches are their praise; all they can think of is their appetites. 20 But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven! We're waiting the arrival of the Savior, the Master, Jesus Christ, 21 who will transform our earthy bodies into glorious bodies like his own. He'll make us beautiful and whole with the same powerful skill by which he is putting everything as it should be, under and around him.

I Was Blind, but Now I See

Watching the countless balloons carrying messages of gratitude and love, and some, like mine, even kissed, be swept away by the slight breeze on a warm July afternoon, I found myself feeling as raw as I did the day my Daddy left this world. This day, was a Donor Celebration which I had the opportunity to attend. If I am being honest, I only wanted to attend to support my mom. Deep down I believed it would be a day of pain as I focused my attention on what I had lost just two years ago. For those of you who know me, know that my Dad was my everything. He was my hero and I unabashingly adored him with all that I am---still do! His passing has left an incredible hole in my heart. As the days have passed some of this rawness has given way to other distractions, but the hole has remained and not a single day has gone by without me thinking about what I lost.

It was not until this afternoon; as I sat and listened to a man read his thank you letter to his unknown pelvis donor that I understood what I had gained.  My heart was penetrated by his story, a story of immobility to one of walking, hiking, and rough housing with his grandkids on the floor. He had walked to the celebration and said, still after all these years since his partial pelvis transplant, he has never taken a single step without remembering “Fred’s” selfless act of donating his body to those whose life would either be preserved and/or made more sufficient because of his gift.

My dad’s last gift was to donate his body. We learned later that his body was able to help 22 people, though we do not know who they are.  As this man read his letter, he became the face, the voice of those 22, for I am sure they are just as grateful for the gift they received.  Quoting John 15:13 “Greater love has no one than this, than he who lays down his life for a friend”, this man opened my eyes to see another side to my emptiness since my Daddy’s passing. Nestled in these words is abundant grace, an extravagant gift-- the eternal hope I needed.  I lost my Daddy, but I have also gained. Though vastly, vastly different, his selfless act brought a new life to others just as my merciful Redeemer has brought a new, eternal life to those who were broken. Jesus was the ultimate donor!

As I was driving home, somber in mood the next day, I sat with my thoughts for some time before switching on the radio. The all too familiar song, “Amazing Grace” filled the air. It is a song most people, Christians and non-Christians alike are familiar with. The music and tempo have been rearranged countless times over the years, but the lyrics never touched. As the song began to play, I listened to the lyrics, pondering them, attempting to put myself into the equation and filtering them through the previous day’s events. When the song ended, my mind continued to play the song over and over again. “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me…” What, I wondered, does grace sound like? I have asked myself that question countless times since and each day, I swear the answer continues to morph into a more complete understanding of what it both sounds and looks like in my life.

Grace is a personal gift. It meets you where you are. This day, grace came in the stillness, the quiet of the afternoon, whispering through the warm and gentle breeze, “I have come to bring life and life to the full” and Beloved, hear me when I say, “My grace is sufficient for you, my power made perfect in weakness”. This day, grace covered me completely, filling the hole left by my Daddy’s passing, liberating me, giving me new eyes to see what I have gained. Like the man who has never taken a step without remembering the gift he received, I too desire to live a life filled with gratitude for the eternal gift I have received. I received this gift countless years ago, but as time has passed, my gratitude has become mediocre. This Donor Celebration caused me to change my perspective, from the perspective of loss and hurt to one of peace and ultimate gratitude. I will lose the things of this world, but I have richly gained in Christ. This does not mean the pain of losing my Daddy lessens by any means. It does, however, mean that I can have an unexplainable peace where there once was incredible pain.

“For me, to live is Christ and to die is to gain” Philippians 1:21. I want to be intentional, purposeful, bold for Who I live my life for. If it was not for the greatest love story ever told, “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whosoever believes in Him will have eternal life”, I would not and could not know the fullness of God’s grace for me. I have been made whole because of His grace for me.

A Wagon Full of Rocks

I recently read a story of a man whom God asked if he would be willing to carry three packages up the hill to a specific destination. The man briefly thought about it, but then decided that since the packages didn’t weight too much, it would be his honor to serve the Lord in this way. Along the way, he ran into a friend who asked, “Where are you going?” When he responded that he was bringing the packages up the hill for the Lord, his friend replied, “Oh that is so wonderful. I was planning to bring this package myself, but since you are going there anyway, would you mind taking it for me?” “Not at all", replied the man as he added it to his cart. The story goes on to tell that he encountered several more friends, which all added small packages to his cart. Before long, the slight load that he started out with became cumbersome. He worked with all his might, but eventually reached the end of his rope and shouted out, “God, why did you give me so much to take care of? This is too much.” God heard his plight, his frustration and came to his side. As God looked into the cart, he saw package after package piled among His. What are all of these?” asked the Lord. “Oh, this one is John’s package and that one is Sally’s. This one belongs to Nathan and that one belongs…interrupting, God asks, “Why are you carrying everyone else’s packages? I only asked you to carry mine.” With His hands on the man’s shoulders and his eyes looking squarely into his, Christ says, “My yoke is easy and my burden light. I will never ask you to carry more than you can bear.” The story ends there, but I identify with the man who has taken on far more than God has asked of him.

I can hardly help myself! I love to work, I love to clean, I love to help, and I love to be needed….I find happiness, predictability, confidence there. I love making a plan and working it out to perfection---or at least as close to it as I can manage on my own strength. There it is: the rub—on my own strength.  I am pulling my wagon filled with good things---truly all of them are good things, but upon reevaluation, they are not all things that God has asked me to do. Some of these things He has asked other people to do and I have more than willingly stepped in to carry their load. I have unknowingly robbed them of the packages God had in store for them. Their packages, as beautiful and fun as they have been to carry for awhile, have also weighed me down, and taken my attention off the packages God had in mind just for me.  They, in a very real sense, have temporarily tainted my view of my own packages. Attention divided, I have not given Christ my best.  I have been more devoted to duty than to the Creator.

So I sit here today, humbly looking over the countless packages I have in my cart, realizing I have been pulling entirely too much weight, realizing that though all of these packages bring me happiness in and of themselves, the happiness also ends there. It does not fulfill. It does not last. Thinking more deeply about why I have piled more and more packages into my cart, I realize that what I am doing is looking for contentment, for true fulfillment and in the end I come to see that all my “good works” have left me still longing for something more.  It is a sad cycle, clearly spinning out of control.

The cycle stops now because I am in a place where I realize that although all my good works are…good, they are not all for God. I have stamped His name on much of what I do; saying that such and such is for Him, when in actuality I am doing it to gain some measurable accomplishment that I can hang my hat on at the end of each day.  “The Lord does not look at the things a man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.”  1 Samuel 16:7 I desperately want the Lord to look at my heart and see my devotion to Him, not all the things I have accomplished.

The happiness and contentment that I long for and have sought after through good works is not always measurable this side of heaven. That is perhaps one of the hardest parts of this equation for me.  It reveals to me that my faith is not firmly rooted in the things unseen, but more on the things seen. The awareness of that crushes my heart, for I have been in denial for quite some time, focusing on the things of earth rather than the things of heaven. I, desperately, like all of us, have been searching for contentment, for peace, and happiness. I have attempted to find it through duty rather than devotion. I have missed my Lord for all the packages I have chosen to carry.

The key to fulfillment, the package that we seek, is found solely in intimacy with Christ. Intimacy can be scary because it is the place where you come as you are—unworthy, broken, sometimes with only an ounce of faith—we are exposed before God. There is a freedom here, however.  There is freedom because it is here that you realize you are loved unconditionally for who you are. You do not have to earn it. This unconditional love is one of the packages in your wagon. Perhaps, like mine, it has been tainted by all the extra packages you have piled on top of it or you have added to it, thinking it’s not enough on its own. Open this gift, breathe in the freedom it offers and let go of some of the extra packages so that you can truly find joy in what the Lord has given to you. This is a process. I struggle to let go of some amazing packages, but they do not belong to me. I desperately want to find my identity and my freedom in Christ, not in what I am doing, no matter how beautiful the package may be on the outside.

Who Am I Anyway?

Just a brief background: My youngest daughter, Meg, is the pearl of my oyster, literally. She is the essence of what Satan intended for evil, God intended for good. Though she is a product of rape, she is learning that her identity is not about her conception, or surroundings, or how she looks, or even her PDD diagnosis (on the autism spectrum), but rather who she is in Christ. The things she contemplates at 12 years old are some of the very things her 39 year old mother questions. I am humbled by the gift, the treasure of her life and that God chose me to be her mother. Indeed, she is a blessing.

Who Am I Anyway?

Struggling for the majority of her life to find her identity, my twelve year old, African American daughter’s tear stained face bitterly screams out, “Who am I?” Her tears reveal the sting, the hurt, the seeming injustice of her situation in which her heart attempts to mask on a daily basis. Her question; one that perhaps we, as Christians, are all trying to grasp this side of heaven. Her anger; warranted.  As I choose my words carefully, in hopes that they will completely, comprehensively answer her agonizing question and not cause her to spin into another unknown variable of this life, I simply say, “You, my daughter, are the daughter of the King. You were created on purpose and for a purpose. You are not an accident. You are not a mistake. You are precious. You are valuable…” Sobs interrupt my attempt to sooth her and once again I see that she does not believe my words. “I have no value” comes her reply to my questioning eyes. My heart, broken already, silently questions God, Why are you allowing this? Don’t you care about her?”

I hold her five foot two inch body in my arms, running my fingers through her curls, kissing her cheeks a million times over, and hold her close to my heart.  She quiets. Her tears stop. But the question remains and I have no idea how to answer it. Anger starting to take root in my heart, I fire question after question at God, not waiting for an answer, not thinking before speaking, and certainly showing no respect for the God I claim to love and live for. “God, why are you allowing this? Hasn’t she been through enough already? Are you trying to teach her something? Are you trying to teach me something? Is this a punishment? Where is your justice? Where is your grace? Where are you? I hate this; this constant anguish, this burden that stands constantly before me. Where is that yoke of yours? You know, the one you said was easy?  And then I stop.  And I hear ever so clearly, “Come to me, all who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden light”. (Matthew 11:28-30)

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me.” I pause to contemplate what my role is in this command. Yoke, according to The Complete Word Study Dictionary, is “the coupling of any two things together; a beam of balance which unites two scales”.  Think about that for a moment. Christ walking step by step with us, sharing the insurmountable weight on our shoulders. He is with me for the long haul, united, not missing the smallest detail.  “Learn from me”…understand me, know me, my heart, motives, and desires for you, for this world. This phrase denotes “instruction concerning the facts and plan of salvation. In this sense it means to learn with a moral bearing and responsibility; to know more fully.”

United with Him, I learn that His ways are not my ways, His thought are not my thoughts. His idea of rest is not my idea of rest. Rest, in this sense, is not the removing of hardship, rather it is the assurance in His promise—the promise for redemption, the promise that His watchful eye is always on me, the promise that what He began in me, in Meg—in you--He will complete, and the promise that all things work together for the good of those who love and trust Him. The promise that He came to give life and life to the full and the promise, perhaps my most favorite, that He will never leave me nor forsake me. What Satan intends for evil, God intends for good.  When we grasp this, even a little, we can find peace that surpasses all our human understanding and find the faith to believe that our trials can and will have “spiritual productivity and purpose”. It is here that I find rest. Admittedly, I do not believe we will see all our trials’ spiritual purpose this side of heaven, but I do know they are not invalid or without purpose.

Inhaling the precious words Christ so readily answered my cries of anguish for my daughter; I fall to my knees, embarrassed by my lack of faith once again and completely humbled by His care and grace for me and my daughter. It was here, on my kitchen floor, He said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, Karyn. My power is made perfect in weakness."   (2 Corinthians 12:9) Sufficient grace. Enough grace. Abundant grace…Covering my face with my hands, I allow myself to sob a prayer of gratitude for His love and devotion to me—this sinful, often prodigal daughter of His.

“He pours out His grace abundantly along with faith and love that are in Christ Jesus” (1 Timothy 1:14). He pours out more than enough grace to keep us covered, enough faith for us to trust Him, and enough love to never let us go!

We will face trials of all kinds in this life. The Christian life is not an easy one. Admittedly, I forget that at times, like yesterday when I angrily questioned God, when I accused Him of not caring. My faith is frail at times. I must intentionally put on the armor of faith; protect my heart and what I love so dearly from the poisonous doubts the world repeatedly fires at us. I do not want a spirit of timidity, but one of courage. I do not want to be cowardly in my faith, but courageous, zealous even!

My daughter looks at her predominately Caucasian area and family and wonders, “Is this where I belong? Though her perspective is outwardly focused, looking immediately at her skin color in relation to those around her, we, too, wonder, “Is this where I belong?” Most assuredly it is. For she—we--were created for such a time as this. So I pull Meg to my lap and whisper, “It is not about what you do or how you look, it is about who you say you are; who you choose to live for. When you make that choice, all the rest will fall into place. Who will you live for, Meg?” Her dark solemn eyes look deep into mine as she replies, “God, who else?” I bite my quivering lower lip, attempting to stifle the tears welling deep from within. What I am still attempting to learn at 39, she is just beginning to question at 12. This life is a long, bumpy road. It is my hope to be an example to her, to always be honest, to allow her to see me question and even doubt God, but then also allow her to see that God does answer, that God does have a purpose and a plan for those who love Him.