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.

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.

thank God!

It's really hard for me to remain thankful in all things. In moments of disappointment, hurt, anger, frustration, impatience, whatever, it's often impossible difficult to lift my eyes and say, "I will thank You anyway." And as if that weren't a sufficient enough challenge, I'm not just instructed to be thankful in all things. I'm commanded to be thankful for all things.

"Always giving thanks to God the Father for everything..."

Sigh.

That means I need to live from a heart that readily says---

• Thank You for my husband's infidelity.
• Thank You for his decision to leave me.
• Thank You for this loneliness.
• Thank You for yet another high-pain day.
• Thank You for the uncertainty and the unknowns.

I need to start thanking God for my "all things". Even before they work together for good.

Thanking Him even for what hurts and confuses me, develops trust. It helps me acknowledge that He's in control, and that He has even this---whatever this may be---in His hands. Thanking Him for what makes my heart ache, builds my faith.

And my faith sure needs building.

But, to be honest, I'm nowhere near there yet. I don't know when I'll be able to say with a sincere and genuine heart, "Thank You even for this."

But this week I am going to start praying, "Lord, I want to want to thank You, even for this..."

i want to live free

I'm sitting here in Starbucks, puffy-eyed. My heart feels raw. Exposed. Tender. I just spent two hours crying like I haven't in a long time.

In a counseling session. Sigh.

When I first started going to counseling almost a year ago, I was so anxious about each visit. Now, without even really thinking about it, I start my sessions by taking off my shoes and pulling my feet up on the couch. I feel comfortable, even when we're tackling a difficult subject. It helps tremendously that I have a therapist I respect and love. I've said for a while now that if my counselor is the only reason God has me in Atlanta during this season, it's completely worth it.

Today's session was different than usual. My counselor led me in a time of healing prayer, asking God to help me face and then finally let go of the events that have deeply wounded my heart. And I'm not just talking about my husband's infidelity and abandonment. I'm also talking about childhood aches that have shaped my entire life.

It was hard, to say the least.

I cried. I forgave. I released. I surrendered. I asked the Lord to bring His freedom into the darkest corners of my heart.

I don't want to be an Indian giver. I don't want to take back what I've placed at His feet. I don't want to pick up again the burden of guilt and shame that He's taken from my hands. I want to live free.

I WANT TO LIVE FREE!

Sorry for yelling, but, well, that needed to be said loudly.

I don't know a formula for living wholly surrendered. I don't know the strategy to avoid taking back from God what I just gave over to Him. All I can do is continue to choose to live free. I have to keep making the choice to let go, to walk in forgiveness, to not embrace the guilt and shame that has become so second nature.

I'm praying for awareness. That I would recognize my old patterns the instant I slip back into them. So that I can, in that moment, choose freedom. Choose faith. Choose obedience.

This living sacrifice wants to stop crawling off the altar.

Because only in complete surrender am I fully free.

crawling back onto the altar

"To live a life of prayer, of sacrifice, of surrender to God."

Twelve years ago I penned those words as my life mission statement. I wanted to be intentional about making my life count for something greater than me. I wanted to be deliberate about leveraging my life for His glory. And everything I could see myself doing boiled down to that simple statement.

I said simple, not easy. 'Cause it's been anything but easy.

Those words have been ringing in my ears this past week. Prayer, sacrifice, surrender to God. Do I still mean it?

I want to say I'm willing, even when I don't know what He's asking me to do. I want to follow Him even when I don't know which way He wants me to go. I want to serve Him even when it means giving up my own notions of how I can best do that. I want to honor and glorify Him with every breath, every word, every step.

The only problem with being a living sacrifice is my tendency to crawl off the altar. When I can't see what's next, when the flames of uncertainty seem too much for me to bear, sometimes I climb off. I choose to follow fear instead of faith. I long for the certainties of Egypt over the uncertainties of freedom.

But I'm done. Today I'm climbing back on the altar.

The Lord Himself goes before me and will be with me. Among all the unknowns and uncertainty, He is already there. He knows. He is certain. So if I remain in Him, I can have confidence and peace even when facing more uncertainties than ever before in my life.

As I've ruminated on it and wrestled through it, I know this much is true: I still want each moment of my life to be one of prayer, of sacrifice, of surrender to God.

Use me however You want, God. However You want.

eyes to see and ears to hear

Mary Magdalene was overwhelmed and confused when she discovered the empty tomb. Her bewilderment only compounded her grief, and she collapsed into tears. As she wept, her risen Savior appeared and stood beside her, but she didn't recognize Him. She looked at Him; she even talked to Him. But somehow she didn't realize Who was right in front of her eyes. I do the same thing far too often.

In my ignorance, busyness, and sometimes just the emotions of the moment, I easily miss Jesus when He's standing right in front of me. I simply don't realize it's Him---ever present, ever speaking. My eyes can be so blind that I miss Him in painted sunsets and unforeseen provision. My ears can be so deaf that I miss His voice in familiar Bible passages and the words of a friend.

Mary eventually recognized Him. You know what finally opened her eyes and ears?

"Jesus said to her, 'Mary.'"

He called her by name. His voice---His tender, powerful, matchless voice---uniquely calling her name was enough to make her realize He'd been beside her all along. Her blinders fell off; her ears were opened. She saw. She heard. She knew.

I desire to see the Lord in expected and unexpected places. I want to hear Him in common and uncommon ways. I need Him to open my eyes and unblock my ears.

Jesus, say my name!

confessions of an adulteress

I’ve been so unfaithful. He has loved me faithfully, yet I’ve turned my back on Him time and time again.

I’ve chased love when Perfect Love stands before me, holding me in His gaze. I’ve chased joy when it overflows nowhere but His presence. I’ve chased peace when my completeness comes only from Him.

All He’s ever wanted is my heart, and I’ve kept it tightly in my own hands as if I could care for it better.

He is jealous for me, and all I’ve been jealous for is everything I think I’m missing out on.

Even as I’ve pushed Him away, His everlasting arms have never stopped holding me.

He’s been nothing but faithful, despite my faithless heart and wandering ways.

Even amid the adultery of my heart, I hear His tender voice calling. Seek My face. I lift my eyes. I want to see Him, and be seen by Him. Unashamed of my nakedness and brokenness, I want to see and be seen. Know and be known. Understand and be understood. Love and be loved.

Fully.

Freely.

Recklessly.

Relentlessly.

His compassion overwhelms me. His ever-faithful love consumes me. His mercy breaks up the unplowed ground of my heart’s back forty.

I am His.

Always have been; always will be.

He is mine.

And by His grace, my heart will stay more faithful to Him today than it did yesterday.

ht: Hosea

something better

When I let go, I closed my eyes tightly---only me and Him.

I held out my clenched fist, slowly opened it, and let it all just slip through my fingers.

I looked at Him and my heart sighed in simple repentance:

I've clung to my sin more than Your grace.

Exposed and uncomfortable, I looked away.

Ever so gently and gentlemanly, I felt His hand slip into mine.

He didn't leave me empty-handed. He just gave me something better to hold on to.

letting go

Sometimes it's easier to feel guilty than forgiven. All-too-often I choose to cling to my mistakes, my shortcomings, my depravity rather than to embrace the forgiveness and freedom that God has for me.

It takes effort to make that exchange, and---honestly?---sometimes I'd just rather not put in the effort. How pathetic is that? Especially since He already did the hard part.

But God's power has no effect in my life if I don't choose to receive it and rely on it. I don't want to nullify His power with my apathy.

I recently spent time letting go of some things I've held against myself for way too long. As hard as forgiveness can be, I find it most difficult to forgive myself.

Sitting alone in a "service" at St. Arbucks Church, I made the choice to let go. To forgive me.

After all, He already did.

And what I hold against myself, I'm ultimately holding against God. I'm basically slapping Him in the face and telling Him that His redemptive work isn't good enough. That I can do a better job atoning for my sin than He can.

Pride can't often see herself in the mirror. But I saw her loud and clear.

So I acknowledged that His work was final---that my sins are not only forgiven but paid for. And I made the decision to step out of the prison I'd locked myself in for so long.

I left a lot of crap in Starbucks that night.

And I got a venti cup of forgiveness to go.

[from a post on this day last year]

lord, i'm sorry

Lord, I'm sorry for thinking You love me the same way others do. For assuming You'll withhold affection until I've paid penance or until You're "over it".

For imagining that You hold me at arm's length most of the time and invite me in only when You want to want me.

For thinking You see me through eyes of disappointment, seeing only how far I am from all I could be and should be.

For presuming You only love me because You have to and not because You want to.

For guessing You hold my mistakes against me, just as I do with myself.

For acting as though You think I'm discardable and unwantable.

For forgetting that You love me for who I am and not for who I can be.

Lord, I want to believe.

let's pray together

The past few months I've been praying a simple prayer. One that's on my heart and my lips today...

Fill me with the assurance that You are trustworthy.

Short, sweet, and to the point. I know He understands.

What are you praying?

bear hug me

I've got something for you to watch. If you're like me, you might shy away from immediately watching videos as you quickly breeze through the blogs you read. I assure you this is less than two-and-a-half minutes long. And it sums up the prayer of my heart just right.

I dug all I could and this was (sadly) the best video I could find. So apologies in advance for the poor quality. Mostly I want you to hear what's being said, so the yucky video shouldn't matter too much.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iMeySMME6Dg&fmt=18]

How does that resonate with you?