Pits and Valleys

So, it's been a little while since I've written anything. Usually when I have these bouts of not blogging, it is because I am so wrapped up in my novel, or simply because I haven't quite put together a thought on what God's been teaching me that's straight enough to blog about. Or at least not straight enough to blog about in my preferred style, complete with examples, analogies, and stories.
But these last few weeks that has not been the case.

The thing is, I haven't been putting a lot of effort into my novel recently or even my relationship with God. That's not to say I didn't have the desire to do either, because I did. I longed for my creative highs and my peaceful mornings spent in the word. But over the last few weeks, those "peaceful mornings" have been filled with depression, distraction, and stress. While the depression would leave me once I got myself out of bed and moving, the stress and distractions would always linger through much of the day, bringing my focus levels to an all time low. With the desire to move forward, but no attention span, my motivation quickly dwindled. Every morning I would ask God, "Please, show me something. Bring me closer to you this day. I want to know you more." And while each day I found some small rarity in a passage I would never have looked in to find out anything more about my wonderful Creator, that step forward was always accompanied by several tiny steps back. The pattern left me feeling stuck. Like I was making progress, but not enough to get any forward momentum. Like a conveyor belt was moving beneath me, but my feet were strapped with lead and I could do nothing more than shuffle along just fast enough to stay exactly where I was, all while longingly staring at what I most desperately wanted at the end of the belt.

I reached a point where I was getting angry. Somewhat with myself, somewhat with God, but mostly just with this feeling of being stuck that I couldn't seem to shake. This distracted mindset that kept me from doing what I know I must do. I found myself thinking things like, "What's the point? I'm not getting anything out of this," or, "I can help people. I have before, I want to again, but how can I do that when I can't even connect to the One who gave me my heart for others?" or even, "If writing is my calling and I can't get myself to write, what am I?"
But I continued to do what I've been doing since this spring. I continued praying (Or trying to. Apparently it's very hard to pray when your mind can't stay focused on one thing for more than twenty seconds. Who knew.) and continued reading my bible every day. Even when I got to boring chapters Exodus 25, which for those who don't know, is the first of several chapters just about how to build the tabernacle and the sacred objects within it. Even on those chapters, I tried to find something to underline, something to write about, something that showed me more of human nature or God's character. But despite my efforts to find something even in these chapters, I still felt stuck. I was still plodding against the conveyor belt endlessly with no end in sight.

Then, Wednesday evening, after a morning of maximum frustration and extremely low motivation levels that led to me laying on the floor for hours with no will to move, God began showing me things that He's apparently been trying to teach me these last few weeks, but I never noticed.
It started when I went out to dinner with a new friend. I had recently asked him where his faith was in a very silly manner, and he told me it hasn't been that great in a while, but that he thinks it's getting better now. During dinner, he decided to shed a little more light on the picture, and after telling me what caused his faith to plummet in the first place, he said something that surprised me. He told me that before he started to talk to me, his relationship with God and his desire to go to church was a giant shrug. He said that if anyone ever tried to talk to him about Jesus, he would just wave it off and be over all indifferent towards it. Having already noticed some of these patterns and knowing what I had just learned about his past, I was not surprised by this confession. What surprised me was when he said, "Talking to you, things are starting to sink in more. I actually want to try to have a relationship with God again. When you invited me to come to church, instead of my normal habit of making up an excuse for why I couldn't go, I wanted to figure out a way to make it work. I wanted to try again."
I was stunned. For literally most of the time I've known him, I have felt like I was shuffling endlessly on that belt, with no way to take the weights from my feet that were slowing me down and keeping me from sprinting to the end. But despite that, God had still used me to make an impact on his life.
I was stunned, I was happy, I almost didn't believe it, but the inflection in his voice showed that he meant every word he said. I didn't know what to do with the information at first.

It wasn't until later that night, after movie night with friends was over and I was laying alone in my bed did it really settle. God used me, to touch the heart of someone who had long since shrugged Him off. I didn't do anything. How could I have, after all? I was struggling in my pursuit of my dreams and my faith. But that doesn't make a difference in God's kingdom. For God isn't just there in my mountain top experiences, where I feel Him close and see Him everywhere, but he is also in my dark valleys, where I can't see Him beside me or even feel His hand guiding me. But just because I don't feel Him or don't see Him, doesn't mean He isn't there or isn't working.

I would like to take this one step further and remind you that God works in mysterious ways. He doesn't only use those who are trying to follow Him (even those in a spiritual funk, as I have been) to further His kingdom, but even those who either don't realize He's there or don't see Him working.
A good friend of mine has recently been learning what it looks like to love unconditionally. To love someone just for being a person, not because of how they perform, treat you, or meet up to expectations. She's been learning what it means to let go of hurt and act instead out of love, rather than holding onto that hurt and letting it effect the way she treats others.

The other day, she and I had a bit of a dispute about the friend mentioned in my previous story. In a nut shell, she thought I was being too nonjudgmental, while I thought she was being too judgmental. A very unneededly long story short, she texts me after movie night and shares several realizations about how God is with her not only as support in her hard times, but also in her good times. After sharing this epiphany, she says, "I did realize though, that he's a person God loves, and that I haven't been very loving."

We, as people, tend to do whatever we want, but that doesn't mean God can't use us or our circumstances wherever we are and whatever they happen to be to bring about something beautiful.
Hardship doesn't need to be just that. It can be more. God can use it in ways we wouldn't imagine. After all, He used my friend with the decade old, half abandoned faith to teach my bestie what it means to love. If God can use me in my spiritual blah, or him and all the things that went into his turning away from the faith to impact the lives of others, can't He also use the poor circumstances in your life for something bigger, something you never will see coming?

Blessings Amidst Trial

I once heard an analogy that went along the lines of this:

There once was a girl walking through the jungle. Suddenly a tiger jumped out and began chasing her. She ran until her path abruptly ended at a cliff. With nowhere else to go, she jumped and grabbed onto a vine on the way down. Temporarily out of harms way, she breathed a sigh of relief and looked down to see how far the cliff went. On a ledge below her stood a second tiger, snapping up at her feet while the one above stared down at her.
"At least the vine will hold," she thought before noticing two mice, one black and the other white, gnawing at the vine.
The tiger above represents the past. The one below, the future. The mice are day and night, the uncontrolled passage of time that brings us ever closer to our end. But this isn't the whole picture. For before the girl on the vine is a bush of strawberries growing out of the side of the mountain. She plucks one and eats it and how sweet it is.

"What's the point of this story?" you may be asking yourself.
The point is simple. Sometimes we are too caught up by the fear of our past and future, or the anxieties of the day to day life that we fail to notice the blessings placed right before us.
This is more common than you'd realize. In fact, there's a story in Genesis 21 that shows a similar sort of point.

The beginning of the chapter shows Isaac being born. As the chapter goes on, we see some tension between Abraham's family and his wife's maidservant, Hagar, and her son. Feeling like her son's inheritance might be in jeopardy, Sarah tells Abraham that she wants Hagar and Ishmael to be sent away. God promises Abraham that He will take care of Hagar and Ishmael, so Abraham does as Sarah wishes and sent them off into the desert with some water and food for their journey.
When the water runs out, Hagar and Ishmael begin to sob, knowing they would soon die in the harsh desert air if they couldn't find any water.
Verses 17-19 say this:

God heard the boy crying and the angel of God called out to Hagar from heaven and said to her, "What is the matter, Hagar? Do not be afraid, God has heard the boy crying as he lies there. Lift the boy up and take him by the hand for I will make him a great nation."
Then God opened her eyes and she saw a well of water. So she went and filled the skin with water and gave the boy a drink.

Just like in the tiger analogy, Hagar didn't notice a blessing right in front of her (the well), because she was too busy grieving over their apparent demise.

I think the key to noticing these blessings is praise.
Too often, our first response to poor circumstances is fear and despair. But in our fear, we forget who God is, what He has done for us in the past, and what He can do for us in the future.
But when we find ourselves afraid, the best thing we can do is bring our fear to God. Don't resist it, just say to your Father, "I am afraid," then remind yourself of who He is.

Someone who has seemed to have mastered the art of praising God through the trials is King David.

Countless times in his Psalms expresses his deep fear and anguish only to turn right around and start praising God despite his present circumstances.
But David isn't the only one who I've seen be able to do this on more than one occasion. Just recently, a good friend of mine released a book of poetry entitled Flowers In The Darkness where she does just what David did in his Psalms.
It's refreshing to read Davidic Psalm styled poetry about life, God, struggles, and beauty from a current and relevant voice. From someone living in my day and age, facing similar trials as I have.
We all could learn from David just as Denica McCall has.

My God is Limitless - How Big Is Your God? (Part 3)

In the second part of this three part post, I talked about how the wounds and scars from our past can prevent us from really seeing God. This time, I want to share a bit of my own story with emotional scars.
As I said in the last post, everyone has their scars, the lies they believe that prevent them from seeing the Truth. Because I am human, I have them too. One in particular plagued me for a long time. I believed that I wasn't important, that I didn't have anything to offer the world. This lie was more harmful than it seemed, like a poison that slowly eats away at self-esteem and plants not only seeds of self-doubt, but seeds of God doubt. It caused me to reach the point that I described in Doubting Your Doubts, where I couldn't even believe God intellectually any more, I just said and did things to keep up the show for people who I thought would reject me if they knew I didn't really believe what I said.
Thankfully, God is patient and persistent. He pursued me when I didn't even know he was. Then he grabbed my attention and spoke straight to my heart (for more of that story, check out my first post ever here). It was then I was able to start seeing the intellect in it all. But this lie, along with many others I believed then, and some I still believe today, created those deep scars I spoke of. Scars I didn't even know existed. Scars that I'm still discovering today.

I briefly mentioned in the last post that if you want to truly heal, you must identify the scars and the lies attached to them and bring them to God. But how do you do that?
The first thing to do is find the scars. How I've gone about doing that is just by paying attention to who I am and how I am. How do I react to things? What's something I don't like about myself, or something I'd like to fix? When you find a scar, ask yourself, "Why do I think this way?"
For example, I'm insecure. Sure everyone is insecure in someway, but I am specifically insecure about my creations. I have a very hard time expressing myself and my understanding of things, so I like to do it in the most creative way possible. I turn my frustrations into art. I draw, paint, write, sing, spin stories, etc. Some of these things I'm better at than others. But all of them are a deep expression of my thoughts and emotions that I am too scatter brained to articulate to another human being in the form of verbal communication.
It's my artist brain, and I love it, but for a long time I did not love it.
In fact, I hated it! I hated not being able to express myself. I hated the blank stares or confused misunderstandings I got from others when I tried. I hated feeling constantly judged and worthless.
So, I created nonstop. I created worlds, characters, stories, ideas, pictures. I even created masks to hide behind. And I was so, so insecure about my creations because they felt like part of me. Because, they really kind of were. They were the only way I knew how to express myself, but even then, I was scared to show my creations to others because I was scared they would say something less than positive about it and not realize that this wasn't just some little thing I made for fun, but this thing was me.

Those insecurities are the manifestations of a scar of a wound I received when I was young. A wound fed by the lie that I wasn't good enough, I wasn't lovable, I wasn't wanted.
But realizing that lie took time. First I had to identify the scar. I had to look at my insecurities and say, "I don't like you. You are not me, you are my chains. You don't define me, you just keep me tangled in fear." Then I had to search. I had to pay attention every time I felt insecure and ask myself, "What am I afraid of?" Through several months of asking that question, I discovered the lie I had come to believe.
The process isn't a fast one. It took me months to identify my scar, and more after that to identify my fear and the lie that fear was rooted in. But that was almost two years ago. It wasn't until this spring did I start to dispel the lie by finding out I was not alone. By meeting many other creatives who thought the same way I did and had the same doubts that God was using to do glorious and magnificent things! And not just things in other's lives, but some had even had impacts on my life before I ever met them.
But I almost didn't meet these people. My fear almost told me not to go to the Re:Write conference. "What if you don't get anything out of it? What if it's a waste of time and money? What if something bad happens on your long drive down there?" And many more what ifs that scared me. But I knew one thing.
I have a dream. A dream that I'm more scared to lose the opportunity to reach than I am scared or other's opinions of me or falling into crippling debt or even dying in a freak car accident. So, while all of the "what ifs" my fear whispered to me were very valid "ifs," I had one, single quiet "if" whispering to me, "But what if you can reach your dream?"
And that single, small, truthful whisper got me shaking with such anticipation that I no longer cared about the big, scary "ifs" my fear screamed to me.

I realize now that I am the way I am for a reason, although sometimes I forget that. It's still something I only understand in my mind, but don't quite know in my heart. Because of this, I try to do things on my own. Don't get me wrong, it's good to work towards your dream, but when you forget that your ultimate purpose is to bring glory to God's kingdom, you can shoot for the stars all you want and have a real hard time getting off the ground.
God has been challenging me with the question I shared in part 1: "Is there a limit to my power?"
I already know that God is bigger than my biggest fear. But I have a hard time learning that He is also bigger than my biggest dream.
So recently I have been circling this dream in prayer on many different levels. I'm circling that I'll be able to get the book I've already written out there where it can impact people in the unique way that only story can. I'm circling that He would guide me on my next novel, which is centered around escaping the lies of the devil to see God's Truth. And I've recently added a new prayer to the list of things I'm circling.
The book I'm working on now is set in the desert, yet I have never been to the desert. I, however, have a standing offer to get a chance to see the desert this summer with my Grandparents in New Mexico. All I must do is raise the money for plane tickets down there. The day I decided this was something I needed to do, I began circling New Mexico in prayer.With 10% of all I make going towards travel I knew I would only be able to make it there with God's provision.
In the three days since, I have made almost twice at much money as I usually do on these days.
Such an immediate answer to prayer is something I'm not used to. I was excited, stunned, grateful. But most of all, I was overwhelmed. After just a few hours, He had already provided, and it instantly brought to mind a song by Big Daddy Weave

So, how big is my God?
He is bigger than my biggest doubts, darkest fears, and most unattainable dreams.
Is there a limit to His power?
Never! He is limitless, and in Him we, too, can be limitless.



He is eternal. He is infinite. He will provide.
Do you trust Him?
I'm learning to.

God vs Scars - How Big Is Your God? (Part 2)

Last week I addressed the common phenomenon of doubts and how they can destroy our prayer lives if left unattended to. Many of us have these problems, or have had these problems. Other times, the situation is very different. We can honestly say our God is infinite and his power has no limit, yet something still feels void. We can't seem to pray for very long, because we honestly don't know what it's like to pray with the absolute certain belief that God is bigger than our problems and wants us to prosper, or we don't read our bibles very much, because we don't usually get anything out of it. If you've never experienced this, it will sound like I've just contradicted myself. I mean, I basically just said that sometimes we believe, but don't believe. How does that make sense?

Well, if you're like me, this makes perfect sense. You see, there's two different forms of belief. There's the belief where you accept in your head that something is true based on firm logic and understanding and sometimes even a strong explanation from a trusted source. Then there's core belief. Minds can be changed, opinions can be swayed, but when you know something to be truth with the very core of your being, nothing can change that.

So many of us, though, know something to be true in our heads, but haven't quite fully grasped it in our hearts and spirits. Why is that?
I think it comes down to scars.

Everyone has scars, both emotional and physical. Scars have this funny habit of fading, which is fine and dandy when they're physical (unless, like me, you think scars are kind of cool). I have a scar on my left knee that I got when I was twelve. I crashed my scooter and landed on my face, having to get stitches in my chin (that scar is gone now). I left with a scar on my knee, a little bigger than a nickle. It was pink and weird looking, and when the weather got cold, it turned purple. Now, eight years later, its faded to about the size of a penny and is no longer pink, but a shade just paler than my fair skin. If I didn't point out the slight discoloration, you wouldn't even notice it. It looks like just a part of my skin.
Like physical scars, emotional scars can fade as well, changing to look like who we are, when they were never meant to be there. They can be caused by anything. A falsehood you came to believe about yourself as a child, a poor relationship with a family member or friend, a bad breakup, or any other form of heartbreak. These wounds, like any wound, will scar if they don't heal properly. Like any scar, emotional scars may fade to look like you, but they don't work like you, at least, not how you worked before you were hurt.

Physical scar tissue doesn't stretch and react the way normal skin or muscle tissue is designed to react. I sprained my right knee a few summers ago and didn't let it heal properly. Though I can't see inside my knee, I'm certain all the walking I did on it caused its healing to go too slow and scar tissue to form in my body's attempt to repair itself. Most of the time my knee feels fine, I walk without pain. But once in a while, it hurts, usually when a storm is coming in or seasons are changing or there's any other reason for the atmospheric pressure to change and affect my joints. Nothing else has a problem during those times, just me knee, because my knee doesn't have all it's original tissue, tissue that's designed to expand and flex with the pressure changes. Because scar tissue doesn't stretch, my knee hurts. But until my environment changes to affect my scar, I don't even know it's there, it's become such a part of me.

Emotional scars do the same thing. They block the connection between mind and spirit, but usually we don't notice this block. It's not until we hear or experience something that resonates with us in such a way that we feel the block. We notice that we don't feel the connection while our head is accepting the logic. We understand and agree with what the preacher/teacher/author/artist is saying, but we still have trouble really seeing God in this new understanding, because the scar acts as a dam that blocks the river's flow, a wall that blocks our line of sight, a chain that holds us back.

But what if I told you God sees all your scars and all your deepest wounds and loves you despite the fact that they prevent you from loving Him to your full extent? There is healing for every wound and every scar, no mater how old, deep, or painful. All you must do is identify those scars and the lie that caused them, and lay it at his feet.

Doubting Your Doubts - How Big Is Your God? (Part 1)

How big is your God?

This is a question that's very important to answer, a question that I don't think we can always answer. Mark Batterson reworded the question as one from God to man, "Is there a limit to my power?"
We can easily say God is infinite or that there's no limit to his power, but do we always mean it?
I think lots of times, even as believers, we say things like this just because we know it's the right answer and we can't put to words what our answer really is. What our doubts really are. Or, we know our doubts but we are scared of the implications. Will others judge me? Will I be misunderstood? Will God answer my prayer if I answer this question wrong?
So, we opt to avoid the real implications of the question by giving a safe answer.

At the beginning of the twentieth chapter of Luke, the writer tells of an interaction between the Sanhedrin (an order of high priests and teachers of the law) and Jesus. The men come to Jesus and ask Him where he got the authority to heal the sick and preach to the people. Jesus, knowing the men's hearts, knew they wouldn't accept the truthful answer, even if He gave it to them. So, instead, He asks a question in return, one that will require them to publicly accept or reject Him.
He asks, "John's baptism--was it from heaven, or from men?"
In other words, did the man sent to make the way for Jesus get his authority and understanding of these things from God, or men? Answering this question would require them to think about the one John proclaimed the way of, Jesus.
After discussing among themselves, they decided that they could not answer the question. For if they said, "From heaven," Jesus would ask them why they didn't believe, but if they said, "From man," they risk uprising, because the people believed John to be a prophet.
So they gave the very, very safe answer of, "We don't know."
Then, in verse eight, Jesus say, "Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things."

When we give the safe answer to this all important question of how big our God is and if there's a limit to His power, we risk getting big fat "Nos" in our prayer life.

But the safe
path never brings us fulfillment. We never get the answer we desire or the miracle we need. We must learn to shake this feeling of needing to pray the right thing the right way to get God's attention. We already have His attention, infinitely so. We don't need the right amount of flowery words to appease His holy awesomeness. If we want answered prayers, we need to pray honestly. God already knows your doubts, so why cover them up?
Address them and lay them out before Him so He can begin miraculous healing and open your eyes and heart to His glory.

What if, just maybe, your doubts weren't even legit? What if you just required a slight shift in perspective to see things clearly? What if doubting your doubts could bring you closer to an answer and closer to God?
What if?

Help! Bandits!

I ran through the foggy night. My lungs burned, my legs ached, but I kept running. I had to. They were after me.
Foot steps thundered behind me and I made the mistake of looking over my shoulder to see how far away they were. Nearly tripping over my feet, I turned my eyes forward again. It didn't matter how far they were, all that mattered was I couldn't last forever. The thugs goaded and taunted me when they saw me stumble, but I ignored them. Let them waste their breath shouting, that would actually be better for me anyway!
Weaving in and out of trees, I attempted to lose them. Or at least slow them up. Anything would be better than where I was now. But fate had a way of taunting me.
Just then, I was out in the open. The forest had spit me out into a wide glen. I was exposed, with no cover except going back in the trees where my death was charging me down. I had no choice but to plunge into the fog. I was beginning to lose hope of ever finding a way out of this situation when I saw something through the fog.
It was a light!
The light burned away the fog around it to reveal a small cottage, resting in the center of the glen. I was saved!
Finding a new energy, I ran full tilt for the little house. I prayed desperately that someone, anyone, would be home. I was going so fast that I was almost unable to slow down before reaching the door. I tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge. Locked.

PAUSE.

We all get into situations like this. Where life seems to be going any way but our own, where we feel trapped, endangered, anxious. It's just a part of life. But there's a right and a wrong way to respond in a situation like this.
My brother and I were talking the other day about where Jesus said, "Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened."
But specifically we were talking about when life puts us in situations that require us to ask, seek, or knock. Even more specifically, we were talking about a friend of ours. For her confidentiality, we will call her Sabrina.
We talked at length about how Sabrina's faith has been wavering recently and what brought her to that place. We talked about how she has decided to live life on her own, by her own power, proclaiming that God didn't want to help her or could help her. Upon learning of these new convictions Sabrina had, my brother and I were greatly grieved. The girl who was once so on fire for God and ready to worship and share him wherever she went was gone. In her place is but a shadow of who she once was.
Anger, fear, and anxiety have replaced the joy, strength, and peace she once radiated.
My brother, wise as he is, brought up this piece of Scripture, saying, "She thinks God has abandoned her, but he's just waiting for her to trust him to have it under control, instead of fighting for it to go her way."
After several minutes of discussion about the passage, the image of the chase popped into my head.
"It's like being chased by bandits," I said, "and there's a home, a safe haven of sorts in the distance. But you find the door to be locked, and instead of knocking and trusting in the unknown possibility that someone who cares might actually be there to save you, you turn back and try to face the bandits on your own."

Imagine if the character in our story, after finding the door locked, decided to do just that. Tired and sore, alone and scared, he turned back to faced the numerous thugs that assailed him, saying to himself, "I have strength! I can do this. Who says I need some God  to save me. I don't need anything but my own will power! And who's to say there's a God anyway? I mean, if there was, why would there be thugs after me? Obviously this house, this offer of peace and joy is just to taunt me! I mean, it's locked after all. Why would a loving God offer this way out, if anyone couldn't just enter? Obviously there either isn't a God, or He isn't loving, because look at that! There's bandits!"

As silly as this argument sounds, these sorts of questions are asked every day by millions of people. Now, obviously, if you were in this situation in real life, you would pound on the door until your fists fell off, which, for the sake of my metaphor, is the exact reaction you should, but don't always, have spiritually.
I can't answer all of the questions posed, but I will debunk one.
The bandits are human.
Did you see that?
They're human! Just like you and me and the old lady in the supermarket and the President of the United States. Human.
Are humans God?
No. Even though we really would like to believe so sometimes.
As humans, we have God granted free will to do whatever we please. Now you could get mad at God for "letting" the bandits come after you, but then, if he were to remove their free will, he would also have to remove yours. Why? God loves all of us equally. He wouldn't give one special favor over the other. This same free will is what gives you the choice to pound your little heart out on the cottage door, or try to face the adversity on your own.

Now, because the bandits are human and they have free will, they are chasing you.
This brings us back to the question, why would a loving God allow us to be chased by bandits? And my honest answer is I don't know.
But I do know two things:
1) By using our free will to choose our own way instead of God's way, we decide to pretend we're God. We say, "I know what's best for me better than any unseen God ever could." We take matters into our own hands, and some of the choices we make lead us to be bandits.
2) God does love us.

Now you may be asking, "But, Miss Blogger-Chick, how can you possibly say that with certainty when you have no absolute facts?"
Oh, but I do.
How do I know? He provides us with an escape. An escape from the bandits that plague our lives, and the decisions we make that make us, too, bandits.
"How does choosing to rely on ourselves and face the bandits make us bandits? I don't get it."
Oh, I'm so glad you asked that! That is a great question.
What do you suppose the person in the story is going to do when he faces the bandits? Is he going to sit down with them and chat over their differences over a nice cup of tea (or coffee, if you prefer)? No, the bandits have already proved to be violent and bloodthirsty. So then the only way to face them by yourself is to sink to their level and also become violent and bloodthirsty.
Something we all have to realize, though, is that while God will always answer, His answer isn't always the answer we want. While we want judgment, God wants retribution. We can be pounding our fists bloody on that door, begging for God to smite the bandits with a thunderbolt, but He's not going to do it. Although you may not see it in the moment, His way is so much better.

Now before I continue our story, I want to bring something cool to your attention.
Remember that passage I brought up at the beginning of the post? Yes, I know I'm long winded and it was awhile ago, but I trust your memory.
Literally the day after my brother brought up that piece of Scripture, my daily bible-prayer time brought me to Matthew 7 where the passage resides. Now we could call this sweet irony or coincidence, but I like to believe it was God. Or better yet, maybe one of God's favorite ways to work are sweet irony and seeming coincidence?
Food for thought.

I tried the knob, but it wouldn't budge. Locked.
Frantically, I knocked on the door, glancing over my shoulder constantly. I looked away for only the briefest of moments when I heard a shout. I looked back to see one of the thugs standing at the edge of the cloud of fog, pointing at me and waving his buddies over. My heart sank.
"I can't do this." I whispered to myself in defeat, tears filling my eyes.
I rest my forehead against the door and my rapid pounding slowed to a rhythmic thunk, thunk, thunk. At every third pounding of my fist, I would lift my head from the door and let my forehead thud into it. With each thud, I repeated a silent, simple prayer.
Please, save me. Please, save me. Please, save me.
The third time I brought my head back to the door it didn't connect with solid wood, but something with a give to it. Something like flesh.
I pulled back and opened my eyes to find the chest of a man only inches from my face. I looked up to meet a face and eyes so kind and loving that time seemed to slow for a moment.
"Welcome home, child." He said to me, his voice as deep and gentle as the ocean on a calm day. "I've been waiting for you."

Windows To the Soul - Why I Write (Part 2)

In part 1 (The Obedience of Sinful Man) I shared with you part of my story, as well as an example of how God used a man's simply obedience to touch my life.
I mentioned having made these connections during the Re:Write Conference that I recently returned from. Well, there was another connection I just made this morning, that I felt I should share.
Originally, this was all going to be one post, but I got on such a roll on the topic of obedience, that I had no choice but to split them up.

During the conference, I got the blessing of getting to have not one, but multiple conversations with the writer I mentioned in part 1. It was totally surreal. Not because he's sold millions of books, or even because of the huge impact his words have made on me, but because despite all that he was still human. In fact, he's just like me. He has doubts and struggles and highs and lows like the rest of us. But that's not surprising. In fact, I already knew that.
So what made the experience so surreal?
I got to meet someone who was really desperately trying to live the way Jesus commanded us all to. It was refreshing.

Earlier this week, I was on the phone with my fellow writer Elaine Mingus, sharing with her one of my favorite experiences of the whole conference. Specifically we were talking about this man and his unabashed way of sharing the truths God has been teaching him, even when he doesn't fully understand them yet as well as how understanding and accepting he is of people.
Elaine put it well when she said, "He's just so Jesus-y!"
And I realized that was the perfect way to describe it.
Don't get me wrong, he's no saint. I've heard much of his personal story. I've read of his selfishness and pride that brought him away from God in the past, of his hurts and how he's had to struggle to redefine God outside of the pain of his past. But he's let God change him to be more like His Son, and it shows!

Before I can tell you what happened, I must share with you a little something I found in my morning bible-prayer time.
I was reading Jesus's famous Sermon On the Mount, and I came across a intriguing little nugget buried in the middle. The sermon is a lengthy one, stretching over three chapters (Matthew 5-7) and covering a variety of topics, including murder, divorce, oaths, giving to the needy, prayer, and fasting.

In a section entitled "Treasures in Heaven," sandwiched between verses talking about keeping your focus on heavenly things, rather than earthly possessions and one talking about how you can't serve both God and money is the rarest little verse:
"The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are good, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are bad, your whole body will be full of darkness, If the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!" (Matt. 6:22-23)

I have read this sermon many times, as you probably have as well. Like me, you've probably looked over that verse as, "If I focus on what is good and holy (God), then I will be good. But if I give into my sinful nature, I will be full of darkness."
This is fine. It may even have been one of the intended meanings of what Jesus said. But the cool thing about Jesus is that his words transcend time. Meaning, even as you read them countless times, you can get something new and fresh out of it. I never had gotten anything new or fresh from this set of verses. Until today.

What if it could be taken backwards? Think about it.
It is said that the eyes are the window to the soul. So, if your eyes are good, and your body is "full of light," then wouldn't the reverse be true? If one's soul is full of light, meaning you are living like Jesus the best you can, then wouldn't you be able to see that in their eyes? They being the windows to the soul?
If A=B, then B=A. Right?
Simple comparison, but it makes my point.

Now, my question for you is, have you ever seen this? Have you ever seen someone who was so full of the peace and joy of the Holy Spirit, that you could see it in their eyes?
You see, I wouldn't have been sure if I could answer this question a week and a half ago. In fact, I wouldn't have even made the connection between the verse and eyes being the windows to the soul before the conference. The only reason I did, is because I spoke with someone who demonstrated this. He wasn't trying. He wasn't putting on a show. He wasn't making himself seem good or holy or "more in tune with the Holy Spirit" than anyone else.
What he was was honest.
He was simply living his life and loving people the way he has learned to over years walking with Christ. And it showed! It definitely showed!

There was moment early on the first day where I went up to him to get the series I mentioned in part 1 signed. During which time, I felt compelled to tell him a little bit about where I was in my faith right then. I shared with him that though I have a solid foundation built right now, I have been struggling to connect with God on an emotional level due to the emotional disconnect I struggle with that I mentioned before. I told him how I miss the connection. To which he replied with, "My talk tonight is for you."

During his talk that night, he talked much about how everything we do flows out of who we think we are, how our experiences are largely influenced by our perception. He spoke of how we need to let go of out intellect, the part that puts God in a nice neat little box, before we can ever begin to see who he really is. He shared how only recently has he begun to really, truly believe that he is a child of the King. With dramatic gestures, he clutched his head, explaining that for years it was something he knew "up here," but only recently had begun to know it "down here," he said with his palms pressed into his chest.
He spoke of this and so much more. But what happened after I remember so much more clearly than what he spoke of.
I waited for the crowds of touched attendees and gawking fans to disperse, and I managed to approach him one-on-one (a rare thing indeed).
"You were right, I did need to hear that." I began.
He said gently, "I told you. I told you." His voice through the entire exchange remains how it generally does: gentle and understanding, like a father calmly guiding a child.
I told him that I needed to hear this as much tonight as I did a year ago (for this wasn't the first time he had spoken on a topic similar to this). Mimicking his gestures from before, I told him that I understand what he spoke on "up here," but I can't quite connect it "down here" yet.
Flustered, I was about to continue, when I finally met his gaze. While he had been holding eye contact the entire time, I let mine wander.

It's a funny thing, eye contact. Rarely do we hold it for any period of time. I believe there's a reason we don't. Like earlier mentioned, the eyes are the windows to the soul. Obviously sharing some part of you that's that deep can be scary. There have only been a few people I've known to hold long eye contact with me. While each time it's happened, the topic of discussion has been different, there was always one thing the same in each experience: they all wanted to connect and be open.

I've been telling people he "stopped" me before I could continue, which gives the idea that he said or did something to cause me to stop my rant before it had even begun. But that is not the case. All he did was look at me, with an expression that said, "Don't get flustered. I understand."
He took advantage of my momentary speechlessness to pull me into a big hug. "Shh," he calmed. "Don't think about it. It will come."
In that moment, I knew he was right. Of course, it's just what he said before. I need to let go of my intellect that tries to tell me how it should be, and be like a child again before God.

Quickly, before he could leave, I asked if he could pray over me. His prayer was simple. With hands on my shoulders and his eyes locked on mine, he just reminded me who I was and who God was. I can't remember his words, except how he ended it with, "Be healed, be healed." As if there wasn't anything simpler than that. Which I guess there isn't.
His words aren't what impacted me though. It was his eyes. For the first time, I held his gaze. It's amazing how much of a person's spirit you can see in their eyes. His were excited, almost like a child's, and so full of love and peace and joy. I could see the Spirit alive in him.
Before this I had never actually noticed anything like that that in someone's eyes before. Sure, I could see by the way they talk or act certain aspects of the Spirit in them, but I'd never seen it.
Maybe I just wasn't paying attention.
Maybe I wasn't looking close enough.
Whatever the case, I shall have to pay closer attention next time. And hold better eye contact, of course!

If you're interested in knowing more about what God's been teaching him and sharing with the world through his gift, click here.

The Obedience of Sinful Man - Why I Write (Part 1)

I recently returned from the 2015 Re:Write Conference, where I forged many new friendships and many great experiences. Most of all, I learned a lot about myself and my God. I learned how Yeshua can use the simple obedience of a sinful man to touch the lives and hearts of those he may or may not even know.

I could give many examples, for over the weekend I heard numerous analogies and personal stories. But today I will only share the story of only one man, who by following God's guidance, touched my life.

However, before I tell his story, I must share an analogy.

During the final talk on the last day, a pastor named Mark Bartterson (you probably know him as the author of The Circle Maker) told us about mustard seeds.

I'm sure we've all heard  the parable of the mustard seed. It's one of Jesus' shorter parables, found in Matthew 13-31-32, but it has a lot to it.

Mark told us that if we have been called to write, to not write is disobedience. But if you've ever done any writing, you know how hard it can be. It has been compared to bleeding on a page, and really no better comparison can be made. In writing, you put a part of yourself that even you barely understand out there for the world to trample. It's scary, but oh is it exhilarating! Too many of us, however, get stuck on the fear that we wont be able to write well, and that fear keeps us from writing.

This goes for anything God has called us to do. We let fear that we wont be "good enough" debilitate us.

Mark went on to tell us how our writing is like a mustard seed.

“The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds come and perch in its branches.”

"Why does a farmer plant a mustard seed?" Batterson asked. "Is it so it will grow branches and be able to bless other living creatures? No, chances are, the farm plants a mustard seed, because he wants mustard for his hot dogs!" In the same way our writing can be. We write because it allows us to express ourselves in the special and unique way God as gifted us to. We may also write because we want to inspire or touch others. Or maybe because we want to be a best seller someday! Whatever our reasons, God can make our simple obedience touch lives we never thought it could. All we have to do is plant the seed.

Now, about two decades ago, a man decided to obey God's calling to write. Like the farmer, he could not have imagined who he would touch with his simple obedience.

Two decades ago, I was a newborn. I hadn't learned to talk yet, let alone how to comprehend the wonders of our infinite Creator, yet He, in His great wisdom, called a man I didn't even know existed to begin telling about Him in the form of story.

 Ten years later, that man was inspired to tell about God in the form of an allegory that spanned over 1500 pages in the form of several books. Obedient, he wrote the story. As a ten-year-old, I still didn't know who this man was, let alone that God would later use his obedience to change my view of Him.

Flash forward to sophomore year of high school. This was a dark year for me. I had put my worth in the opinions of a friend, rather than in my loving heavenly Father. When this friend stabbed me in the back, my self-worth shattered. Feeling betrayed, I shut my emotions down. Without my ability to connect to other's emotionally, I grew very cynical.  My cynicism brought up countless questions on who I am and who God is. My view on him began to crumble and I soon descended into a pit of depression. What little faith I had was gone. I hated myself and wanted nothing to do with this so called "loving Creator" if He couldn't even make my life work. I began to view the bible as little more than fairy tales, for that's what they felt like to me.
Just before my sixteenth birthday, I followed my mom to a Christian bookstore where the cover of a book grabbed my attention. It's dark, abstract cover appealed to the taste for dark forms of art I had begun to discover. Oddly enough, I have never since seen the book with that specific cover. The cover I always see now is of the surface of an emerald green lake. If this was the cover I had seen on the shelf, I would not have looked at it. But that is not the case. God put something before me that would grab my limited attention and coax me to look farther.Turning the book over and reading the back, I was intrigued. I didn't, however, buy the book. Not then at least. I went to the library and found it there, where it had the familiar bright green cover I've come to know.

At first, I didn't see it for the allegory is was. It wasn't until halfway through the second book did I see it. God spoke to me through the images and stories and lives of these characters. He showed me it's connections to the gospel I had grown up hearing, and recently dismissed. He made it feel real again.If this man could be so influenced by God to write something this impacting, then God must be real!

This is not to say that I hold this man or his novels on the same or similar level that I hold Jesus and his gospel, but his obedience did make an impact on me. That impact lit my desire to search for God and who he is again, because for once I did feel loved.
Even though in that moment, I had not put all of this into a straight thought as I do here, I did realize the awesomeness of a God who can use something as small as a man's imperfect story to change the life of someone that man has never met.

This is but one story of obedience. It is I, now, who take up that same calling. Whether my books get published and impact others or not is not in my hands.

 It's in His.

All I must do is write.