Day #4: Portion

Today I read Psalm 73.
In verses 2-12, the psalmist confesses his jealousy of the rich and their wealth. He explains how they "have no struggles and their bodies are healthy and strong," and that they are "not plagued by human life." He envies this.
But then he shifts perspectives and sees the wickedness buried inside of them. He sees their pride as a banner beaming from their very beings.

Suddenly, the psalmist is vulnerable with us. He shares a struggle he's hidden within him.

"Surely in vain have I kept my heart pure; in vain have I washed my hands in innocence." (vs. 13)

Whoa. That struck me.
It makes me cringe inside. I wonder, is my heart truly pure? Is what people see genuine, and not for the benefit or pleasure of my own good?

I'm thrown into restlessness between my flesh and spirit.
My flesh screams that I am a nice person. Plus, everybody else says I am too. I'm the sweet, innocent girl that would never hurt a fly. I encourage people and love them for who they truly are, right?
Yet something in my spirit cannot rest with that conclusion... Something is wrong.

I struggle to say it, but pride is one of my crutches. I cling to it, even when I'm doing good unto others. I love to help people, but many times only for my own sake. I love to talk to people, but only so they can help me with my problems.

I don't know how to give back wholeheartedly for nothing in return. I don't know how to give up my comforts -- my perfectly oriented schedule, my penny-tight budget and my American lifestyle -- for the sake of authenticity.

So I wonder, am I genuine? Or am I just faking it so others shower affection over me?

This battle of authenticity is not an easy fight.
Everyday I try to serve others -- not out of vanity -- but out of ridiculous, pure love. I try to be the hands and feet of Jesus to others with no spotlight on what I can gain. Many times I fail, but sometimes I succeed.

All I know is that I am thankful for the grace that God bestows upon me, even in the midst of my fallouts. This morning, my friend texted me a verse that sums this up. Ironically, it's in Psalm 73:

"My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever." (vs. 26)

Let that be your battle cry. God is your PORTION that is bigger than all of your failures. Not only does He cover them, but He wipes them away and replaces them with His strength.
His strength is our foundation in times of failure.

**Do you beat yourself up after failing? What do you turn to when things are crumbling apart? Do you cling to the Word and remember that God is one who always forgives and love, even through all of your pain?

Day #3: My Constant

I'm sitting here on my freshly made bed, my feet sprawled out over the covers as the cool breeze blows in from the window to my right. The smell of rain fills my nostrils, and I am put at peace. It's one of my favorite scents.

This feeling of peace... it's something I haven't experienced in a while.

The past week has been full of TRANSITION. I finished my third year of college, I said goodbye to many dear friends, I moved into a new building, and I started a new job.

I've been very weary and unsettled, and I haven't felt like myself. But now that my roommate and I have moved into our new place, my body, mind, and spirit can finally rest. And it's wonderful.

But even in the midst of all my ups and downs, and my all-nighters and early mornings the past week, I've clung to one thing to keep me going. That one thing?

It's Jesus. He is my constant. My journal and my Bible have been my stuck to my side during all the craziness, and I've opened them to be encouraged and strengthened through this wild process of change.

See, even in the middle of whatever you're going through, you can always trust in Jesus and know that He'll be there if you make Him your foundation. He never leaves, no matter how far you run away. 

He's waiting for you to take your empty cup to the fountain of life. He will fill you will Living Water and restore your soul.

**Are you in a dry season or on rugged terrain? When's the last time you plugged into the fountain of life on a constant basis?

Day #2: A Wild Pursuit

It was a chilly May night, the day after Finals, and my closest friends and I pulled an all-nighter together driving around the city of Minneapolis. After stuffing ourselves with breakfast food and pie at Denny's and parking near a scenic bridge to listen to worship music together, we made our way to the infamous "Makeout Point" in the Quarry. Once our orange car was subtly parked in the fogginess on top of the grassy hill that overlooked the city skyline, we pumped up the worship music once again and sat there for an hour in the stillness of God's presence. We prayed for each other, and then in a rush, I jumped out of the car and ran.

My feet pranced across the bushy grass, racing as fast as a deer's.

My eyes were fixed on the sunrise in the distance, nothing else.

My steps were swift and my strides were long. I couldn't stop!

I was free and overflowing with joy.

Then I danced at the edge of the plain to where the hill ended sharply and sloped violently downwards on a path of dirt.

It was the most free I've felt in my life.

Today I wondered, Am I actively pursuing God in the same way I ran out of the car to the edge of the field five days ago? Am I wildly jumping out into unknown, racing past anything in my way until I reach the very face of God?

The pursuit that God wants of us is supposed to be wild. It's supposed to be dangerous, not comfortable. Because comfortable equates stability, and stability is not part of growth.

I've become complacent. My hands are reaching towards God and my heart is groaning to know Him more, but my feet are glued to the ground of my own complacency. I'm screaming to Him, but my ears cannot hear because I'm too far away from Him.

All I want is for God's arms to envelop me in His beauty and love. I want to be captured and swept off my feet by Him, but I cannot experience this until I step into the gap that's separating us.

Why can't I move my feet into the vacant space? My feet feel like bricks being weighed down by my fears. I've constructed a wall that no one can tear down. It is a glass wall, but nonetheless, it is there.

I cannot move my feet because I am afraid of intimacy. I am afraid of the wild pursuit that God desires of me. I am afraid to give up my comforts to be closer to His heart.

But I know He is calling me out onto the waters. I know it. His voice is ever so clear, I'm just choosing to avoid it. Instead of risking myself for Him, I slumber away, actively ignoring His call.

He says, "Daughter, come out onto the waters. Step out of the boat and walk upon the waters. Reach for my hand and I will hold you. I will not let the waves overtake you."

A tug-o-war erupts inside of me. My spirit is aching for my Beloved, my Lord... but my flesh hesitates, flooding my head with worries. What if I stumble? What if I fall? What if the waves come crashing down on me?

No.

I cannot pledge my allegiance to my flesh any longer. I cannot sit in my place of comfort anymore. My spirit is trembling to budge, to move forward into oceans deep.

I'm like Peter, who Jesus called forth upon the waters as the disciples were on their fishing boat. Peter took a leap of faith and stepped onto the roaring seas. He saw Jesus standing out there, and that was the only hope he needed. He pursued Jesus wildly.

It's time for me to respond to the voice that is across the waters. It's time for this wall to fall and for me to step closer to God. It's time for me to run towards Him, pushing past all of my fear, pride, worry, and failures.

It's time to wildly pursue His heart.

**What is holding you back from pursuing Jesus wholly? Are you holding something back from Him that is creating a barrier between you and Him?

Day #1: The Beauty of Rawness

This is the first of my summer blogs, which I am aiming to write DAILY. It's a stretch, but I know it will strengthen my writing and challenge me in communicating what the Lord is teaching to me with others. Every day I will focus on a passage of Scripture or a daily happening that takes place. Writing is the way the Lord communicates most clearly to me, so I wanted to increase my presence on this platform this summer to strengthen and encourage you wherever you're at in your walk with the Lord. I pray and hope my writing will be a blessing to you this summer, as I pour out what the Lord is going to be pouring into me this summer.

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I remember when I was younger and my mom would make me clean my room every week.

"Honey, it's time to clean your room!"As my mother's voice droned through the hallway, I would hustle and bustle in my room to pick the mess of toys, clothes, crayons and other junk off my floor. But instead of properly putting it back in its rightful place, I would stuff it under my bed or in my closet. My standard was that if the floors were relatively clean, my room was clean. No questions asked.

Later my mom discovered all of my belongings I would so cleverly tuck away into the corners of my room. I was disciplined by being grounded or given a timeout. Sadly, I did not learn my lesson until I was 10-years-old.

In the same way, we can be childish in the way we present ourselves. We can either choose to put on a mask and pretend everything is okay, or we can be real with people, even in the midst of our problems and brokenness.

In Matthew 23:25, Jesus criticizes the Pharisees for their fakeness.

"Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisees!"

You see, the Pharisees portrayed themselves like they had everything all together. They presented themselves as holy and righteous to the people, but on the inside they stank of greed, pride and arrogance.

They were fake.

I wonder, do I present myself to people as real and honest, or fake? This is what I've come to realize the past few weeks:

For so long I've focused on maintaining my "outer" personality. I try to fit in with the crowd by cracking the same kinds of jokes and attending every social event organized. I work tirelessly to present myself as the sweet and innocent girl that would never hurt a fly, because Jesus would never hurt anybody.

I've become succumbed to the sickness of striving, and it's eating away at my soul.

I strive to fit into the mold that others expect me to be.

I strive to avoid conflict.

I strive, because I'm afraid of myself and who God created me to be.

And this striving? Well, it's fake. It's a technique to cover up who I really am inside. It's like going through the motions without soul. It's robot-like living.

I don't want to strive anymore. I don't want to conform to the patterns of the world anymore. I don't want to seek to meet every person's expectations of me, because I wasn't meant to please people. I am meant to please God.

Instead of striving to fit into the cookie cutter templates that people have formed for me, I'm going to reach for HOLINESS. Instead of focusing on my outward personality, I'm going to focus on my heart. I'm going to focus on being raw and genuine.

Because you only know the realness of something by its rawness.

I'm going to clean the inside of my cup, just like Jesus said in verse 26:

"First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean."

And when the inside of my cup is clean, the outside will also be clean. I won't have to strive anymore. I won't have to try to cover up all my problems and mistakes.
There will be beauty in rawness, no matter how ugly it may be. Because when Jesus is at your core, shining out holiness from your inner being, His light casts out all condemnation and insecurity. He is your only standard, and you can rejoice among sorrow and pain.

**What are you hiding on the inside that needs to be washed away? Are people seeing the real you, or just a mirage?

Walking Through Flames

I remember as a kid watching Veggie Tales movies. My mom would buy the VHSs every time we stopped at the local Christian bookstore, and as a chipper little girl, I got excited about anything and everything -- including talking vegetables.

There's one particular Veggie Tales movie I remember: the one about Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego.

In the delightfully animated Veggie Tales version, King Nebuchadnezzar builds a giant chocolate bunny (okay, who wouldn't chomp that down at Easter?). Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego refuse to bow down to the giant candy figure, whom the entire rest of the nation is bowing down to. They're accused by one of the king's officials and brought before King Nebuchadnezzar.

Let's dive into Daniel 3, where the real version is recorded (instead of a chocolate bunny, it was an image of gold constructed).

"Then Nebuchadnezzar was furious with Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego... He ordered the furnace heated seven times hotter than usual and commanded some of the strongest soldiers in his army to tie up Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego and throw them into the blazing furnace. So these men, wearing their robes, trousers, turbans and other clothes, were bound and thrown into the blazing furnace." (Daniel 3:19-21)

But instead of burning up in flames, the three men withstood the fire and stayed alive! King Nebuchadnezzar and his associates saw three forms in the fire, in addition to a fourth that was an angel of the Lord.

As a result, Nebuchadnezzar ordered Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego out of the fire and worshipped their God.

Such an amazing story. It haunts me that Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego actually withstood the fire. How could something so miraculous happen? Wouldn't the heat have caused them to melt instantly, like the officials who threw them in (they didn't even step into the fire)?

I'm reminded of the flames we walk through on a day-to-day basis. They may not be actual orange, blazing flames that are heated at over 1,000 degrees Fahrenheit, but they still pose the same struggle and pain as real fire.

What are your flames? Maybe it's the broken family situation you're in; maybe it's a physical disability you're forced to live with.

Whatever temperature and height the fiery flames of your life are at, know that you are a precious piece of gold in the hand of the Refiner.

Here's a cool Bible verse I stumbled across tonight at dinner:

"Gold, silver, bronze, iron, tin, lead, and anything else that can withstand fire must be put through the fire, and then it will be clean." (Numbers 31:22)

Read that again. All of the precious metals back in Old Testament times were commanded to be put through the fire, because they could WITHSTAND the fire.

As a precious piece of gold in the Refiner's hands, God puts you through fire because He knows you'll be able to withstand it! It's not because He wants to hurt you. The fire may be painful and may cause you to want to give up at times, but if you keep pushing through and enduring the struggle, it will be worth it in the end.

Because fire cleanses. And it shapes.

God only puts you through what you can handle. He knows where you're at with your walk with Christ, and will only carry you through the flames that will mold you.

Be prepared to be ablaze. God is ready to refine you; all you need to do is take one step forward into the fire.

In The Shadow Of The Cross

Silence.

My body molded into the green plush chair, I stare at the pale blue walls. A whiteboard is plastered on the wall with my grandma's name scrawled on it, in addition to the dosage of medicine the doctors have given her.

My right hand hangs awkwardly in my lap, and my left hand coils over the wooden folding table to clench my grandma's cold disfigured hand.
Her frail body lies there almost motionlessly on the thin hospital bed. It had only been five days since her surgery.

I can feel the ache inside of her through her bones.

It's been a year since my grandma had her surgery. The day after Easter, in fact.
I remember waking up at 3:30 a.m. to get to the hospital by 5:00 a.m. My mom, stepdad, younger sister, and I piled into our blue minivan -- and then grandma stepped in. Her face somber, she adjusted herself into the empty "bucket" seat beside me.
The ride to the hospital was almost silent. The only words spoken were those referring to directions.
After arriving at the hospital, we escorted grandma in to the dimly lit waiting room. We filled out the paperwork, and after scampering from one office to another, we left her there. Dressed in a baby blue hospital gown sitting in a wheelchair, she kissed each of us goodbye.

It hurt saying goodbye. I knew I would see her again soon, but the reality of leaving her there under the care of doctors and nurses scared me. What if something went wrong during the surgery? My head flooded with questions I did not know the answers to. I was clueless and afraid.

I expect the disciples felt a similar way when their Teacher, Jesus Christ, was pierced to the cross that solemn Friday night. A perfect and holy man, embodying God himself, hanging on the cross with a crown of thorns on his head and blood coating his entire body.

The man who had taught them everything about life hung there dead, right in front of their faces.
All hope was gone.

It baffles me when I conjure up the thought that the disciples didn't know Easter Sunday was coming. What would it be like to stand in front of the cross, not knowing that the resurrection would happen three days later?

The closest moment I have to that is the moment saying goodbye to my grandma in the hospital waiting room. But even then, I knew I would see her again.

This Easter season, I am reminded of the sorrow and confusion the disciples faced while watching their Savior die on the cross between two thieves. In that moment, there was no more hope. All that had happened the three years previous was meaningless.

Thankfully, Jesus did rise from the grave and now lives in heaven. And we can have eternal life if we confess our sins and believe his death and resurrection washed away our palette of brokenness.

But what would it have been like to not know this eternal hope was coming? How would you have reacted? What would it have been like to be in the shadow of the cross 2,000 years ago?

The Value of... Chicken?

Work was interesting yesterday.
In case you didn't know, I work at my college's cafeteria where Tuesday lunches are the most anticipated meal all week. Why is that, you ask?
Chicken tenders. Or nuggets. Those little pieces of breaded, chicken-y goodness are the most coveted craving among hungry students.
Typically on a Tuesday, my co-runner and I are hustling and bustling bringing out new pans of chicken, french fries, and other dishes.
But yesterday was slower. Not because the desire for chicken was any less, but because two of the three friers in the kitchen were broken and were currently being repaired.
Every time we brought out a new pan of chicken, it was gone within a minute. And then there would be this awkward lapse of time where my co-runner and I would wander around apologizing to all those hungry souls in line that it would be another 3-4 minute wait for the next batch.
It was funny, though. About halfway through my shift a quote popped into my head.

"Our willingness to wait reveals the value we place on the object we're waiting for." --Charles Stanley

Is the value of chicken really that high?
To a 20-year-old college student, yes. Especially if the meals you digest are salad compared to your mama's or grandma's home-cooking.
It makes me wonder about the value we place on our relationship with the Lord. Not that chicken and God have anything in common, besides the fact that God created chicken in the beginning of the world (and I'm not going to start the argument about what came first: the chicken or the egg).
But really, how often are we patient and willing to wait for the voice of the Lord with matters in our life?
For me, I have a hard time slowing down and listening to His voice. I get so caught up in the busyness of my life, that I would rather find my own answer than wait minutes, hours, days, or weeks to hear back from Him about a decision.
In Isaiah 64:4, the prophet writes that God is someone "who acts on behalf of those who wait for him." So basically, all the while we are waiting for Him to work in our lives, He is ALREADY working. He's working behind-the-scenes to produce the most excellent finish.
You probably think I'm crazy for connecting chicken to God, but I think it's important we realize what we value most in our lives.
What do you spend the most time waiting on or investing in?
 That's the thing you value most.
What would it take for you to lower that and put God above it?