we all have something to share

The week I moved in with the Hodges back in February, Tam put up a blog post to let people know. It was short and sweet, but beautiful (and still brings me tears to this day). In it, she asked everyone to share something that would help strengthen my heart. "I would love if you’d be willing to share the biggest piece of wisdom in life that you have."

The responses that flooded in were absolutely incredible. They were filled with encouragement... truth... wisdom... love. I am as amazed now as I was then at the incredible friends God has blessed my life with. I may lack in many areas, but this much I know is true: I am rich in friendship.

Anyway... I was reading back through all those amazing comments again tonight, and I got a lump in my throat when I came to Gitz's.

"don't let fear have the power. be faithful to the struggle and live to fulfill, not understand."

There is still so much for me in her words. Maybe even more today than back in February.

And while I wrestle to understand the full meaning of those statements and how to live them out in my own life, I have to smile with tear-filled eyes because Sara showed me how.

She is my greatest example of not letting fear have the power, being faithful to the struggle, and living to fulfill rather than understand.

Just... wow.

With how impactful (why isn't that a real word?) all the comments on that post were to me, I'm going to cheat and just ask you Tam's question again. Because you guys have some seriously good stuff to share, and I can use every ounce of it I can get my hands on!

So -- without first looking back to see what you shared on Tam's post back in February ----

"I would love if you’d be willing to share the biggest piece of wisdom in life that you have. Maybe it’s an old saying handed down from your Grandparents. Or, a favorite verse. Or something you’ve learned in your own life-journey. Perhaps share words of encouragement… Whatever it is, share it here."

I know we will all be better for it.

red letter day

It's a red letter day. No, it's not a holiday. Or my birthday. Or really a day of any special significance at all.

It's just another Monday.

Which is more than enough reason.

It's a red letter day.

His new mercies kissed me awake this morning.

He commanded the sun to shine and the earth to spin and gravity to do its job.

He breathed out so I could breathe in.

So who am I to grumble and complain about just another Monday?

It's a red letter day.

And I need to live like I believe it.

Less griping. More gratitude.

Less frustration. More praise.

For He is worthy.

And I am blessed.

On this red letter Monday.

it took a storm

I think about all that the disciples must have heard... and seen... and experienced. And I honestly can't even imagine.

I mean, I read through the Gospels and when I look at the stories from the perspective of the disciples... just... wow.

The teachings they heard. The miracles they saw unfold before their very eyes. The healings they witnessed. Their inner-circle conversations with Jesus.

Amazing.

It's clear they believed. They left their nets... their jobs... their families. They dropped everything to follow Him. They walked with Him, served Him, and told others about Him. They loved Him. They put their faith in Him.

But despite all they'd seen, heard, and experienced, it took a storm to compel them to worship Him.

Jesus stayed on shore for some solitude and prayer time, and sent His disciples across the lake in the boat. A storm kicked up and the sea grew rough. They were in serious trouble, rowing hard and struggling against the wind and waves. Out of nowhere, Jesus appeared, walking on the water toward them.

"Take courage," He told them. "I'm here."

Peter responded in reckless faith (which I love), and climbed over the edge of the boat, walking on the water toward Jesus. When he focused on the wind and waves, Peter became terrified and began to sink. Jesus reached out and grabbed him. Together they climbed into the boat and instantly the wind stopped.

Then, the Scriptures tell us -- "Then the disciples worshipped Him. 'You really are the Son of God!' they exclaimed."

Now, I have no idea whether or not this was the first time the disciples actually worshipped Jesus. But from what I can tell, this is the first recorded time. And there has to be something to that.

After all they had witnessed, it took a storm to compel them to worship.

The very presence of Christ in the midst of their fear and pain and struggle, led them to worship in a way they never had before.

Sometimes -- oftentimes -- there is more insight to be gained and lessons to be learned in adversity than in success.

Sometimes -- oftentimes -- we see Christ in new and compelling ways more in trials than in triumphs.

And sometimes -- oftentimes -- we can glorify God more because of our sufferings than our miracles.

Now, believe me, I don't like that any more than you do.

But my own experience tells me this is as true for me as it was for the disciples.

In the darkest of darkness, when the storms are raging the hardest, those are the times my heart is most drawn to true and genuine worship.

Because He is worthy even in the storm.

And He is worthy even if He doesn't save me from the storm.

worship on a high pain day

I don't talk about my health issues very often. Or with very many people. For lots of reasons.

Not the least of which is that I have more questions than answers, both in terms of actual diagnosis as well as my heart's processing of it all.

So this post feels like a tremendous risk for me.

It felt frighteningly risky when I began writing it a month ago. And it feels even more so today as it goes live online.

So I'm holding my breath. And doing it afraid.

Because maybe my questions will help someone else. Even if it's only to let them know they're not the only one asking...

... ... ...

I believe You're my Healer I believe You are all I need I believe You're my Portion I believe You're more than enough for me Jesus, You're all I need

That song gets me every single time...

I have a love/hate relationship with it because I always feel challenged to sing the words honestly. Even more so this Sunday morning, because...

It's a high pain day.

I battle chronic health issues, some days worse than others. Today is one of those days. And today, the aches have settled angrily in my hands and arms.

Since I woke up, I've been subconsciously massaging my hands. Rubbing my arms. Trying hard to find some small bit of relief however possible.

And then that song starts.

You walk with me through fire And heal all my disease I trust in You...

Oh my heart...

I'm left whispering that simple prayer that seems to be all I can muster at times like this: I believe, Lord. Help me in my unbelief.

So I lift my sore arms Heavenward and declare -- maybe mostly to myself -- "I believe You're my healer... I trust in You... Nothing is impossible for You..."

My heart wrestles through the tension of trusting that God heals, despite the fact that He may never heal me here on earth.

I've seen Him heal. I've watched it with my own eyes. I've seen Him do it through my own hands.

I've witnessed cataract-clouded eyes opening, lame men dancing, deaf ears hearing for the first time. I've experienced scores of miraculous healings. And yet, every day, I live with pain.

So my heart continues to wrestle through the tension of faith.

How do I reconcile what I believe to be true with what I actually experience everyday?

I don't know that I can.

Maybe all I can do is choose to keep wrestling. To worship Him anyway, with my pain-ridden hands held high. To acknowledge with honesty, "God, I don't get it... but I want to trust You. I need to trust You. Help me trust You."

Painfully praising.

Wincing in worship.

It isn't mine to understand. It is only mine to trust. Even in the pain. And the uncertainty. And the heartache.

I'm not called to understand the mind of God. I'm only called to pursue His heart.

And to trust that ultimately His heart is for my good and His glory, no matter what.

So even though I may not get it, I want Him to still get me.

All of me.

High pain days, wrestling heart, unanswered questions, and all...

Originally posted at Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

we have a voice

Yesterday, I asked a question on Twitter to get the input of my online community. And wow, did I ever get input!

My question?

Who would you say is an influential, inspirational, creative FEMALE voice? Why?

And the flood of responses was overwhelming.

I was surprised by all the guys who tweeted back! Thank you, men, for stepping up and shining light on the women you admire and respect.

And women, thank you for highlighting the many strong women who add so much to your own lives.

I ended up spending hours going through all the names. Many familiar to me... some dear friends... a plethora I'd never heard of before. Until now.

The women on this list span the globe.

They are authors, speakers, artists, musicians, photographers, CEOs, moms...

And all of them? Strong voices of creativity, inspiration, and influence.

Quite a few people asked to see all the names that came in, so I compiled them into a list, along with the "why"s people shared. I've included website and Twitter links, so you can easily start following these incredible women.

Each of us, no matter where we are or what we do, has a voice.

We have influence. We have listeners. We have followers.

(And I'm not just talking the Twitter-kind of followers... Think about your 3-year-old following you around the house, trying to do what you do. Think about your friends who ask for your advice. Think about your spouse, committed to doing life with you. Believe it or not, you have followers.)

People are listening. They are watching. They are being impacted by us, even when we are unaware.

Think about your voice today.

And what you want people to hear...

: : :

Take some time to meet and connect with these amazing women around the world. And let us know who you would add to the list, and why.

Allison Buzard | allisonbuzard.com | @AllisonBuzard Her perspective on how faith influences social work systems is unique in a culture clamoring for 'social justice'

Ally Spotts | allyspotts.com | @allyspotts Courageous faith-walker and bold truth-teller

Amena Brown Owen | amenabrown.com | @amenabee Poet like you've never seen, heard, or experienced; she breathes life through her spoken words

Amy Becker | amyjuliabecker.com | @amyjuliabecker Honest, smart, beautiful writer

Angie Magnino | smangiemag.blogspot.com | @graceinseason Powerhouse of creativity and leadership

Anne Jackson | annejacksonwrites.com | @AnneJackson Truth written in beauty

Ashley Campbell | ashleyannphotography.com/blog Beautiful writer and photographer; Inspirationally teaches her kids to care for the world

Ashley Smith | @ashleyasmith A passionate voice for grace

Beth Moore | blog.lproof.org | @BethMooreLPM Gifted communicator of God's Word

Bianca Olthoff | blog.inthenameoflove.org | @BiancaOlthoff Says it like it is; Biblically sound and unafraid to speak the truth

Bobbie Houston | coloursisterhood.com | @bobbiehouston Strong leader, pioneer, unique thinker

Candace Cameron Bure |  candacecameronbure.net |  @candacecbure An incredible, Godly role model in Hollywood

Caryn Rivadeneira | carynrivadeneira.com | @carynrivadeneir Candid and authentic about the intersection of life and faith

Chimamanda Adichie | Her TED talk Beautifully weaves African history, stories, and heritage into poignant relevant truths

Christine Caine | equipandempower.com | @ChristineCaine Powerful, passionate teacher of truth; Rescuing women who've been victims of sex trafficking

Danah Boyd | zephoria.org/thoughts | @zephoria She's a genius

Darlene Zschech | darlenezschech.com | @darlenezschech Surrendered heart of worship

Emily Thomas | cancercardxchange.org | @eticklethomas Followed her passion and drive to start a nonprofit with potential to change lives, and the best mom I've ever known

Idelette McVicker | idelette.com | @idelette Passionate about raising our collective voices to bring down the walls of injustice

Jamie Wright | theveryworstmissionary.com | @JamieTheVWM Raw honesty with a little bit of crazy goodness

Jen Lemen | hopefulworld.org | @jenlemen Smart and inspiring

Jennifer White | jenniferowhite.com | @jenniferowhite Full of grace and wisdom

Jenny Jones | jennybjones.com | @JenBJones Shows how a woman can be funny without being crass, brilliant without dumbing herself down for men, and vulnerable without being mushy

Jill Sweetman | jillsweetman.com | @jillsweetman Amazing pastor with a heart for marriage, parenting, and relational issues

Jonalyn Fincher | soulation.org/jonalynblog Intelligent, articulate, and redefines Biblical womanhood

Juli Slattery | facebook.com/JuliSlattery | @DrJuliSlattery Wise, grounded reflections

Karen Hammons | karenhammons.mobi | @karenhammons Encouraging advocate for grace

Karen Walrond | karenwalrond.com | @Chookooloonks Refreshing perspective

Kim Miller | redesigningworship.com | @kimmmiller Giftedly creative woman

Laura Story | laurastorymusic.com | @LauraStoryMusic Honest, thoughtful, and worshipful

Mandy Steward | messycanvas.com | @messycanvas Original and amazingly creative

Margaret Feinberg | margaretfeinberg.com | @mafeinberg One of the most passionate speakers I've ever heard; amazingly creative teacher

Mary DeMuth | marydemuth.com | @MaryDeMuth Transparent thinker who inspires others; Generous with her ideas, resources, and encouragement

Mary Ellen Mark | maryellenmark.com Tells a compelling story in her photography

Nancy Duarte | duarte.com | @nancyduarte Revolutionizing communication

Nicola Hulks | nicolahulks.blogspot.com | @nicolahwriter Never afraid to be herself, takes huge steps of faith, gifted writer who uses her influence for good

Nicole Cottrell | modernreject.com | @modernreject Hip, funny, cool, and can jab people with Scripture and truth; Powerful writer, pulls no punches, challenging/inspiring faith; Someone I'd want to lead my church

Priscilla Shirer | goingbeyond.com | @PriscillaShirer Powerfully influential speaker

Rachel Snyder | thelazychristian.com | @LazyChristian Outspoken, candid, truth-speaker

Renee Ronika Klug | quietanthem.blogspot.com | @reneeronika Passionate to see women restored to freedom

Sarah Brown | gordonandsarahbrown.com | @SarahBrownUK So wise and strong, yet so down to earth

Sarah Cunningham | sarahcunningham.org | @sarahcunning In her element with creativity and influence; Has vision for tomorrow and brings others into it; Speaks directly to this generation with authenticity

Shauna Niequist | shaunaniequist.com | @sniequist Honest about life and faith

Stephanie Smith | stephaniessmith.com | @stephindialogue Encourages me through her writing about beauty and creativity

Sunny Cain | sunnycain.blogspot.com | @sunnycain Challenges me to live up to God's best; Honest, gentle, wise beyond her years

Tamara Lunardo | tamaraoutloud.com | @tamaraoutloud Epitomizes creativity, balance, grace, and beauty -- in words, in life, in faith, in action

Teresa Robinson | rightbrainplanner.com | @stargardener Things that felt impossible for me feel possible in her presence

Tina Francis | shelovesmagazine.com | @teenbug Embraces risk, hopes against hope

Tracee Persiko | traceepersiko.com | @traceepersiko Knows her stuff and her passion is contagious; Loves deeply, makes people feel seen and valued, communicates God's truth from the overflow of her heart

Vicky Beeching | vickybeeching.com | @vickybeeching Creative, inspiring, pioneer

: : :

Who else would you add to the list? Why? (Please include links so it's easy for everyone to find & follow them.)

God is good

I was raised to believe that blessings and healing and victory belong to those who believe. Which is a wonderful thought. But the flipside of that belief is that failure, sickness, and lack are signs of not believing enough. So while I was taught to instinctively respond to "God is good" with "All the time", it was understood that God's goodness is only reflected in the goodness of our own lives.

It's not in the pain or the difficulty or the challenges. For those, clearly, are signs of a wayward heart... a faltering faith... an unexposed sin.

Basically anything but blessing, success, and victory boiled down to me not being enough.

Not praying enough. Not believing enough. Not claiming the victory enough. Not speaking words of faith enough.

It was drilled into me that difficult and painful circumstances were never God's will for me. And if I found myself in the midst of them, then obviously I needed to change/fix/do something to get back in right-standing with God, so that things would turn around.

I think back now and I wonder how I processed all the stories I read in the Bible.

You know, stories like Stephen being killed because of his faith. And Joseph's decades of wrongful imprisonment. There's also Paul's beatings, jail sentences, and never-abating thorn in the flesh. John the Baptist, Jesus' own cousin, had his head chopped off. And let's not even talk about Job...

I don't know what I did with those stories that clearly flew in the face of the you-will-always-walk-in-blessings-if-you-have-enough-faith breed of Christianity I embraced.

Because the truth of the matter is this: There are a good many things in life that I simply can't believe my way out of.

The rain falls on the just and the unjust. Bad things happen to God-fearing people. Life isn't fair. And life is harder than anyone ever tells you it's gonna be.

A faith that only acknowledges the goodness of God when things are going great, isn't faith at all. It's nothing but a sandcastle mirage...

Faith is believing that God is good even when my life is anything but.

Faith is believing that God is good even when my world is caving in.

Even when the sickness isn't healed... When the pain gets worse instead of better... When my husband leaves me... When I lose everything...

Faith is looking at my world that's spiraling out of control and choosing to believe that the God of the universe is still in control.

God is good. And God is sovereign. And faith is believing both those truths at the same time.

Life is hard. This we all know.

But, still... God is sovereign, and God is good.

All the time.

No matter what.

Originally posted atDeeper Story. Read the comments there >

He reaps where He didn't sow

As I live in the tension of the shrug, one of the things I've wrestled with in the past few years is the promises of protection and provision in the Bible.

Because God-fearing Christians are still sick and injured and quite often left-without. So I just don't get it...

I mean... Why do we pray for the angels to have charge over us, when accidents still happen to angel-surrounded Believers all the time? I don't know. And I'm not trying to start a theological debate here... just voicing my questions. Or rather my lack of answers.

I've wondered about the whole "no weapon formed against you shall prosper" thing. Because I've had a lot of weapons formed against me. And a lot of weapons have succeeded.

I've endured literal fires, floods, droughts, breakdowns, tornadoes, infidelity, divorce, and the closure of our ministry... So I've wrestled with what it means that these weapons formed against me won't prosper, because they sure have seemed to...

The past few days as I've been pondering all this again, I had this thought:

Maybe it's not that the weapons formed against me won't succeed in hindering or destroying me... but that even if they do, they still won't bear fruit.

The weapons may stop me or thwart what I'm doing or even slay me, but that doesn't mean they will bear fruit in my life. Because God -- as only He can do -- reaches in and creates beauty from ashes, new life from death, joy from mourning.

God reaps even what He doesn't plant. No matter what, He ultimately reaps a harvest for my good and His glory even from the weapons formed against me.

Remember the parable of the talents? Towards the end of that jam-packed short story, the servant who had been given one talent -- and did nothing with it -- got angry at the Master, accusing him of "harvesting where you have not sown and gathering where you have not scattered seed." And the Master agreed.

Because that's exactly what He does.

God reaps where He didn't sow, and He gathers where He didn't scatter seed.

He can take a crop of thorns, and harvest a crop of wheat.

He can take all of our pain, and still harvest abundant joy out of it.

He reaps everything good from a planting of everything bad.

"Those who plant in tears will harvest with shouts of joy. They weep as they go to plant their seed, but they sing as they return with the harvest." Psalm 126:5-6

God never wastes a thing.

Not even the weapons that succeed against us.

the tension of the shrug

I've gotta be honest: I've got more questions than answers.

I grew up in a Christianity that didn't allow me to admit that. So for years I "had" all kinds of answers. But underneath them all was a shaky voice and a doubting heart and a lot of unverbalized questions...

And now?

Now I'm just allowing myself to embrace my questions more than I used to.

It's frustrating -- and maddening even, at times -- because I wish I had answers. I crave sureties.

But building a faith on pretend answers is no better than acknowledging I have none at all.

It's like trusting in sandcastles that disappear in the surf...

My only surety -- my only certainty -- is Christ.

And for everything else in between, it's okay if I have to shrug and say "I don't know."

It's hard to live in the tension of that shrug, but that's where I find myself. And though it seems to go against everything within me, I know that just has to be okay.

I'm thankful for a God who meets me in the question marks.

For He alone is the only true and definitive answer.

Period.

How hard is it for you to not have all the answers?

grace enough

Have you seen People of the Second Chance's NEVER BEYOND campaign? It is powerful.

Each week, they launch a new poster in their NEVER BEYOND series, representing a well-known historical, current, or fictional character who is believed to have harmed society. They stand as challenging and sometimes startling reminders that none of us are ever beyond a second chance.

I've been forced to grapple with my tendency to be stingy with grace and to cling tightly to unforgiveness.

Because if I'm being most honest, there are some people I feel I can't forgive.

And there are some I simply don't want to forgive.

But maybe that's just me...

Extending grace -- to others as well as myself -- doesn't come naturally to me.

But maybe that's just me too...

Although I have a feeling it's true for all of us, in one way or another...

Since the NEVER BEYOND campaign started, I've had a nagging thought at the back of my mind. It sits there, gnawing and scratching, and I just can't shake it. My thought?

September 11th.

Ugh.

My heart sinks even now, just writing out that date.

There are so many emotions, piling up, adding to the heavy weight in my heart...

I wish I was in New York with my family today...

I can't help but play out the events over and over again in my mind... So awful and so horrifying...

I remember our family friend who died that day, as one of the first FDNY firemen on the scene...

I keep thinking of my friend who lost her brother-in-law in the Pentagon...

And how helpless and paralyzing it felt to be halfway around the world in Africa when it all happened...

But underneath it all, my heart is wrestling. With grace. Forgiveness. Second chances.

Because, you see, I have this unarticulated internal hierarchy of sins...

A hierarchy which says Osama bin Laden and the terrorists behind the September 11th attacks are worse than me.

They are, right?

They have to be!

But then I remember all the ways I've sinned just today, just since I opened my eyes this morning. And I remember that, like Paul, I'm the chief of sinners.

I am.

I have more in common with the Osamas of the world than I'd like to admit, but the truth is undeniable: I need grace no less than they do, and I deserve it no more than they do.

There is no hierarchy of sin in God's mind. Sin is sin, plain and simple. And He paid the price for it, once and for all.

If there isn't enough grace for Osama, there isn't enough grace for me.

Because there are no two sides to grace.

It is never deserved, but always needed.

By all of us. No matter what.

That's what makes it so scandalous, so amazing.

So today, on one of the hardest of days, I am choosing to be generous with grace.

Because grace was generous with me.

life isn't fair

Life isn't fair. As much we might bemoan that fact, we really don't want it to be fair, do we?

We only want fair when it would be to our benefit.

When we would stand to gain. Or get even. Or get what we think we deserve.

Until we realize that what we deserve? Is nothing.

That's what's fair.

What's fair is that I get nothing.

Have nothing.

Be nothing.

Do nothing.

I. Deserve. Nothing.

So, having air to breathe? That's not fair.

Waking up in the morning? Not fair.

Being loved? Not fair.

The cross? Grace? Second, third, and eleventy-second chances? Definitely not fair.

Life isn't fair.

And for that I am beyond grateful.

grace runs

"Avoid the appearance of evil." We've all heard it said before.

And while it comes from the Bible, I think we may have warped its original intended meaning. More often than not, I've seen it used as a weapon of divisiveness and judgment and condemnation.

I grew up in a Christian home. I went to a Christian school. We went to church religiously. And the message was drilled into me from an early age: Avoid the appearance of evil.

I was taught to avoid places, activities, and people that might raise eyebrows.

If my presence or involvement could be misconstrued, I shouldn't be there. After all... what will people think? Or worse... what will people say?

It's why we shouldn't go to bars or clubs. It's the reason we shouldn't get tattoos. It's why we shouldn't hang out with the "rough crowd". Because all of those things might give an appearance of evil.

Someone might see it or hear about it, and jump to the wrong conclusion.

Because clearly it isn't very Christ-like to be caught in a potentially compromising situation. Right?

Oh.

Wait.

Jesus didn't avoid the appearance of evil. He ran straight into it.

Party at the thieving tax collector's house? He's there.

Intimate conversations with prostitutes? One of His favorite pastimes.

Hanging out with the scum of society? Nowhere else He'd rather be.

Enjoying some wine with His friends? Of course.

No, Jesus didn't avoid the appearance of evil. He sought it out. He pursued it. And as a result, He quite often appeared evil.

That's why the religious leaders of the day hated Him so much. Everything He did seemed to fly in the face of their long list of do's and don'ts.

They called Him a liar.

A drunk.

A glutton.

Blasphemous.

Demon-possessed.

They didn't understand His approach to life and ministry, because it was the complete opposite of theirs. He embraced what they shunned.

The scandalousness of grace is that it runs toward evil, not away from it.

Being like Christ is not about what I avoid. It's about what---and who---I embrace.

Because, after all, Christ embraced me.

And I am no different than the drunks, whores, adulterers, and all-around "rough crowd" I was taught to avoid. I am them. And they are me.

And Christ embraces us all.

Who am I to pick and choose?

Originally posted at Deeper Story. Read the comments there >

my now and my not yet

Lately, I just keep thinking about the phrase "the now and the not yet". For some reason, I thought it was in the Bible. But despite all my Googling and Bible-Gateway-ing, I came up empty-handed. Apparently it's not directly in Scripture.

Waddayaknow!

That's okay. It's still renting a room in my head for a reason...

The now and the not yet.

I've been in a long season of transition.

Change.

Limbo.

Still trying to figure out what's next and -- now more than ever -- learning to trust in the in-between.

Because I can't really trust God with and for whatever's next if I'm not trusting Him now---in my raw, unpolished, uncertain in-between.

I fool myself into believing I can trust Him with my tomorrow, but not my today. My eternity, but not my present. My not yet, but not my now.

But I can't.

Trusting the God who was and is and is to come, means trusting that He fully holds who I was and am and will be.

Past, present, and future are in His hands. And I can't trust Him with one and not another.

If I am His, I must be wholly His.

If I trust Him, I must wholly trust Him.

I need to learn to trust God in my now, in order to fully trust Him with my not yet.

Because trusting God means trusting His timing.

Even when I don't understand it. Maybe especially when I don't understand it.

So once again, I find myself praying...

Lord, I believe. Help me overcome my unbelief.

And the real, honest cry of my heart:

Lord, I trust. Help me overcome my distrust.

besides Jesus...

...Who could you say this to? Why?

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.

: : :

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.

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.

the end isn't really the end

My heart is camping out in the empty tomb today. The empty tomb that isn't really empty. Because it's filled with hope.

Promise.

Undeserved freedom.

Scandalous grace.

The empty tomb is actually bursting at the seams, overflowing with unexpected second chances.

What seems like the end isn’t really the end.

When it’s over, lost, gone, broken beyond repair… that’s when things have really just begun.

Life after death is so much more extraordinary than life before it.

Wholeness comes from brokenness.

Beauty is birthed in ashes.

The new life of spring actually begins with the slow death of autumn.

And that, to me, is the joy of Easter. Found right here in the empty-yet-abundantly-full tomb...

Happy Easter, friends. He is risen!

silent saturday

Waiting is hard. Waiting in silence is even harder.

I can't stop thinking about this day... This Silent Saturday wedged between Good Friday and Easter Sunday. This day we know very little about.

What did the disciples do? Were they crying? Praying? Angry? Hopeful? Worshipful? I don't know what they were doing, but I know what they were hearing.

Nothing.

All they could do was wait.

For what? They didn't even know. For how long? They had no clue.

I'm sure the night-hours seemed darker. I'd imagine the questions kept coming and the fear grew crippling. I'm sure it felt like they were holding their breath, hoping against hope that Jesus was still who He said He was and that the last few years hadn't been a complete waste.

But their waiting was met only with deafening silence...

Just like yours and mine sometimes is.

So on this Silent Saturday, I'm reminding us of what we know to be true:

Keep waiting.

Redemption is coming.

why this friday is good

I'm thinking about this day we call Good Friday. And how it felt anything but good at the time. It was dark and heavy.

A day with more questions than answers.

More confusion than peace.

More doubt than faith.

Despair hung thick in the air, hearts crushed and despondent. The soul-depth disappointment in God was palpable and suffocating.

How could He? Why would He? What do I do now?

None of it made sense. It didn't line up with all they had seen and heard and experienced. The miracles... the teachings... the love... it all hung in the balance of two wooden beams on a hillside.

Everything they thought their Messiah would be, died that day.

All their hopes and dreams shattered with His nail-split hands. They'd given up everything to follow Him -- families, careers, homes -- and now this. A horrible, wretched death.

Of Him.

Of their hearts.

Of their hope.

They didn't know what we know now, looking back thousands of years later. That life comes out of death. That new beginnings spring forth from the worst of endings.

That hope rises.

This Friday is so very good to me because of the mere fact that it was so very bad.

It reminds me that the dark and heavy times of my life are not devoid of Him, even when I can't see Hm or feel Him. That doubt doesn't nullify my faith. And that questioning isn't wrong.

It reminds me to let everything I think my Messiah should be, die. Because He is so much more than my imaginary version of Him, made in my own image. He loves, redeems, and saves me in ways I would never expect and could never imagine.

And it gives me hope that someday... Someday I may even call my darkest Friday "good".