beholding beauty

When my friend Sarah asked me to write a post about beauty, I knew it would be challenging. But I had no idea how hard it would actually be. I labored over this post. I backspaced entire paragraphs. I started over completely. Twice.

I certainly felt the weight of penning thoughts for Sarah's blog. She has an incredible way with words, poignantly extracting glimpses of grace from her everyday experiences. Sarah has big writing-shoes to fill.

But even more than that, I was forced to come face-to-face with nagging insecurities and fears. My heart had to struggle through it in the process of writing it.

And hours later, this is what I ended up with...

: :

I see beauty all around me.

I find it in painted sunset skies and majestic mountains. I recognize it in the joy-filled eyes of the poor. I discover it in the authentic sharing of hearts.

I see beauty all around me.

But I can't see it in the mirror.

Click here to read the rest of my post on Sarah's site.

the death of dreams

I don't understand why we’re allowed to dream dreams that will never be. But we are.

And we do.

I've heard it said---and have even said it myself---that God wouldn't give us passions and dreams, and then not fulfill them. I used to swallow that whole, but I don't really believe it to be true any more.

Once you factor in free will, sin, and natural consequences, there is no way every hope, dream, and longing can be fulfilled.

Even when we do everything "right", life simply isn't fair. For reasons we may never understand this side of heaven, not every prayer is answered and not every dream comes to pass.

Consider a little league baseball tournament where boys on both teams dream of winning the championship.

You dream of a promotion at work. So do three co-workers who are competing with you for the position.

I dreamed of a restored marriage, while my husband dreamed of a new life with another woman.

It is simply not possible for every dream to come true.

I've had to come to terms with that truth in my life. It sucks. And it hurts. And I'm not totally sure what to do with it.

All my deferred hope has left my heart sick.

I miss those dreams that will never be. I miss the future that is no longer possible. I miss what could be and should be, but won't be.

I have to surrender those to God, trusting that even when it doesn't seem like it, He has my highest good and His maximum glory in mind.

I'm wrestling with the balance between surrender and hope.

I want to live surrendered---fully embracing what I'm given, rather than longing for what I'm not.

And I want to live with hope---faithfully trusting God's promises and believing Him for what I cannot see.

But how do I do both at the same time?

How do I hope while embracing what I'm given?

i'm talking to the devil

I had lunch with a friend a few weeks ago, and with tears in my eyes I told her I didn't know why I was having such a rough time. As we talked, she quoted this passage from Psalms: "He rescued me from my powerful enemy, from my foes who were too strong for me. They confronted me in the day of my disaster, but the Lord was my support."

She reminded me that the enemy of my soul is ruthless.

He confronts me in the day of my disaster. He kicks me when I'm down. He comes at me from all sides when I'm feeling like I'm at my lowest.

I know she's right. I've seen it. I've lived it.

While there are many Christians who blame the devil for far too much, I know I don't blame him nearly enough.

I need to get better at recognizing his schemes.

I've got to realize sooner when he's attempting to steal, kill, and destroy in my life.

I need to catch on quicker when he sends my heart spiraling with false accusations.

Because I can't fight an enemy I don't acknowledge.

And though I've been fighting, I haven't actually been fighting against the enemy as much as I need to be.

So I'm gonna be talking to the devil more than usual today.

I'm gonna call him out for the thief and liar that he is. I'm gonna remind him of the truth God says about me. I'm gonna look him in the eye and declare, "Do not gloat over me, my enemy! Though I have fallen, I will rise."

This battle's not over yet.

And I'm staying in the ring.

four-minute friday: tight

Go. It's been one helluva week.

I've been crazy-emotional. I don't feel well. I'm exhausted. I received some rough interesting emails. I have more to do than I have time to do it in or energy to do it with. I miss my friends. I'm desperate for a real hug.

And that's the short list.

On top of which I went and did something crazy.

Posting about my new normal was by far the biggest risk I've taken this year.

I was scared of being that vulnerable; I was anxious about the responses that would come.

But then there was the hug in the form of a blog post about me that caught me completely off guard in the best way possible.

There were the phone calls, texts, emails, and comments I received from people who care deeply for me.

There was the "I love you" from God that came in the form of "I love you"s from people.

As this crazy-hard week comes to an end, I'm assured that I'm not alone.

He's holding me tight.

And so are you.

Done.

speak up

I keep thinking about this much-familiar verse--- "They overcame him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony."

I've never really thought much about the phrase "word of their testimony" before now.

I think I always just took it to be synonymous with simply "their testimony".

But there is a key difference.

Having a story of redemption and deliverance isn't enough. It's the telling of my story that brings victory.

As I put words to what God has done in my life, I continue to overcome.

But if I keep it to myself, God doesn't get glorified in it and I don't move forward in my own healing and restoration.

We have to put words to our testimony.

You've got a story to tell.

Tell it.