a force to be reckoned with

Words really do change the world. Words, in fact, are what created the world. God didn't just think it all into existence. He spoke it. "Let there be..." And there was.

And as creatives fashioned in His image, our words have that same creative power.

Our words are a force to be reckoned with.

Words spoken, written, sung, signed...

History recounts example after example of words changing culture, popular thought, belief systems...

Martin Luther and Martin Luther King Jr. come to mind.

So do Nelson Mandela, Bono, and Joshua of Old Testament fame.

Words change the world by changing hearts.

Those amazing communicators who shaped history (as well as the future) did so by finding new and innovative ways to put words to their thoughts. And in doing so, they connected with people's hearts.

Hearts changed.

Communities changed.

Cultures changed.

The world changed.

I'm not naive enough to think I am destined to change the world. I'm not foolish enough even to think that I could. Or should. But this much I know is true:

I want my words to change hearts.

The ripple effect that hopefully occurs after that, isn't up to me. It's only mine to skip the stone...

When I think about the kinds of words it takes to truly influence positive change in people's hearts, I see some recurring themes...

Truth.

Vulnerability.

Passion.

Love.

Humility.

Wisdom.

Authenticity.

So those have become my goals.

I strive to communicate my heart with truth, vulnerability, passion, love, humility, wisdom, and authenticity.

And if mine is the only heart to be changed in that pursuit, perhaps that is all the world-change I need.

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Today’s post is part of an intentional conversation about “Communication That Changes the World.” Join the convo. Write a post, tweet about it using the hashtag #SpeakForAChange, and come back to link your post below.

taking it deeper: the double-standard of my heart

Photo credit: taliesin from morguefile.com

For years I've prayed for my ex-husband’s heart to return to the Lord.

For him to feel the conviction of the Holy Spirit.

For the consequences of his decisions and actions to open his eyes to how deceived he’s become.

For him to hit rock bottom.

For God to do whatever it takes to get his attention.

But if I’m being most honest, I haven't been as concerned with his repentance as I am with wanting him to feel the weight of what he’s done.

The reality is that I sometimes still want him to hurt like I’ve hurt, more than I want him to live forgiven and free.

I’ve had to come face-to-face with the double-standard of my heart.

Because my struggle to genuinely pray not only for his repentance but also for his forgiveness really only means one thing—

I don’t realize just how much I’ve been forgiven.

I want to accept the work of the cross for my sins, but not for my husband’s.

As if my sins have been lesser.

Or even fewer.

When they are neither.

“…God’s kindness leads you toward repentance.”

I remember gasping out loud when I saw that verse as if with new eyes.

And I’ve wrestled with Him long and hard over the implications of it.

It has taken me a very long time to get to this point, but I’ve begun praying—still with tear-filled eyes—for God’s kindness to lead my ex-husband to repentance.

I’ve started asking God to smother him with His goodness and grace and mercy.

Some days it’s easier to pray that way than others.

Some days I can’t at all.

On those days, I just sit in the reality of what it truly means. And I pray for God’s kindness to lead me to repentance.

Originally posted at Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

even when i deserve stoning...

I keep thinking about the adulterous woman who was dragged before Jesus. Mainly because I can't help but see myself in her. The crowd was ready to stone her for her sin, for her failure. And then Jesus spoke. He looked the mob straight in the eye and actually challenged them to go through with it. Under one condition.

He called for the one without sin to throw the first stone.

I can only imagine the shift that instantly took place within the crowd. They knew they were just as sinful as the woman was. They were well aware of how stoning-worthy their own hearts were.

So one by one, the crowd slowly turned and walked away.

All of them.

Until Jesus was the only one left with the woman. Perfectly fitting with what He'd said... "If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her." He alone was sinless. He alone had the right to judge.

Yet the One without sin cast no stones.

Instead He barraged her with grace.

Just like He still does with me.

It doesn't matter how many accusations are hurled at me. Or how many I throw at myself. It doesn't matter how far I've run, how deeply I've messed up, how ashamed I feel.

He casts no stones. No judgment. No condemnation. All He casts is love.

Every single time.

[Originally posted at Deeper Story...]

beauty

photo © 2009 Kevin Gessner | more info (via: Wylio) 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.

My self-image---that picture inside my heart of how I view myself---has long been distorted from a lifetime of feeling not enough. No matter how hard I try, being good/smart/funny/pretty enough has always felt far beyond my reach.

Looking back over the past few years, I can see, as if in slow motion, how that belief was reinforced even more.

My husband's 18-month affair with my friend shouted that I wasn't desirable enough. When he left me after ten years of marriage, I heard that I'm worth leaving more than I'm worth fighting for. And when he told me on his way out that he didn't love me and probably never did, it reiterated that I'm not valuable enough to be loved.

The fragile remains of that picture in my heart loudly shattered into a million pieces.

I am not enough.

Slowly God has been restoring my heart and, with it, the picture I have of myself.

I know He wants me to see myself as beautiful, but the reality is, it remains a daily struggle for me.

Like Alabama in the aftermath of its tornado, all I see in my reflection is the broken, messy, ugly devastation of my life. And I can't help but question how there can be beauty in all this rubble.

God responds by lovingly and gently showing me.

As I hear from people who've found hope and strength from hearing my story, I get glimpses of the ways He's making life out of my brokenness.

But I know God doesn't only want me to see the beauty in how He's using me. He wants me to see the beauty that's in me.

If I'm being most honest, that part is probably going to take a while. Possibly a very long while.

I know a healthy self-image will come solely from staring long and hard into Jesus' face. I catch my true reflection only when I see myself in His eyes.

It's there I see that I am enough because He is enough.

It's there I see that I am desired, valued, and fought for.

It's there I see that He recklessly loves the beautiful mess that is me.

[Originally posted at Deeper Story.]

seek trust rather than understanding

Seek trust rather than understanding. Those are the words I've been hearing for weeks now.

I can't seem to shake them. But they are definitely shaking me.

Because I want to understand.

I want to know why. I want to see what's next. I desire answers and direction and clarity. I want things to make sense.

But God keeps reminding me that it's not for me to understand. It's only for me to trust.

He is calling me to trust Him when I can trust no one else.

To trust in His trustworthiness even though it doesn't play out the way I want it to or think it should.

To trust His heart even when I can't see His hand.

To trust in His constant unchanging character even when He seems inconsistent.

It's not for me to know or to figure it all out or to see clearer. It's not for me to have answers or confidence or surety. It's not for me to understand.

It's only for me to trust.