God Is Good! And I Am Crazy.

Well, it's happening again: My plans for my life are on hold, and I'm venturing into a season of having no clue what's about to happen, but knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that it's going to be awesome beyond anything I can imagine. I know this feeling. And, call me crazy if you like (don't worry, I'm not offended in the slightest!)--but I actually like this feeling. It's stepping out into the unknown, with no clear-cut plan or perfect outline to be able to articulate to the concerned adults in my life who will ask me what's next. It's when following Christ makes me feel intensely vulnerable in some ways, for there is no easy or put-together answer to give to people to reassure them, because this is where the rubber meets the road. This is where the decisions and actions of my life match up with my beliefs, with my faith that my God knows better than I do, and that He has plans that go beyond my own--that He knows best.

Between three and four years ago, I gave up my plans to go straight to college after high school because I felt God was leading me to attend Ellerslie for what I thought would be a year. Partway through my time there, He changed my plans again and told me I was to return home sooner than I expected--after only the Summer and Fall semesters at Ellerslie, instead of continuing into the Spring. About six months later, He took me to a Christian college in Mississippi, which was (again) not what I had exactly planned or expected beforehand. (During high school, I'd had my eyes set on a different Christian college, and then during my year out of school had also considered going to a state school). While there, in the middle of my second of what I assumed would be four years at MC, He began to speak once again about a change of my plans, and brought me back to my hometown, Memphis, two years sooner than I was expecting. Moral of the story: I should really stop assuming things! Every time I've thought I've known what the next few steps would look like, He's shaken things up--from going to Ellerslie to becoming a Resident Assistant this past year at college. And let's face it--His plans have always far surpassed and outshone my own. Even though every change has brought with it a degree of difficulty, the joy I've found in being in the center of His will and following His leading has been far beyond anything my old dreams could have brought me.

So what's this new, crazy step? Well, you see, when God began pointing me towards Memphis this past school year, I assumed (see, there it is again!) that I would pick up college "on-schedule" here at a state university less than half an hour from my parents' house. In case you haven't caught onto the theme of these past few years of my life I just summarized...let me just tell you, He's doing it again! God is taking my plans and my assumptions, and shoving them aside to make room for His plans. I'm not going back to college this Fall. Not that I'm not ever going back, but for now God's telling me to take this semester and spend it in a different way. And just as three years ago when I was headed to Ellerslie, I couldn't give any definite "Here's what's going to happen and what it'll look like"--once again I find myself left without a simple, straightforward answer to people's questions, other than this:

He has spoken to me in ways I cannot deny, and I am following even though I can't see the full path or exactly where it will lead. He's got a plan, and I trust Him. His leading is sure, and He has never once failed me or led me into circumstances He can't handle. So, here I go!

Will I look crazy to most? Probably. Will this come across as me being lazy or irresponsible in getting that all-important education this world tells me I will need in order to "succeed" in this life? Most likely. Will I seem reckless and misled, even to many Christians? It's possible.

But you know what? I'm still smiling. And it's not quite the insecure, nervous smile the eighteen-year-old me wore when I was fixing to leave for Ellerslie. It's the confident-in-my-God, helpless-to-avoid smile of readiness and expectancy that is hard to repress as it flows from the intense joy of abandoning my plans, my way, my ability to see or know what comes next. Because He is faithful, and I trust Him.

He is God.

Ache

Late at night--or is it early morning?--
My head on the pillow, I hear You whisper,
Asking me to forsake sleep, to die to myself,
Come away with You, and share Your heart.

"Will you ache with Me in the watches of the night?
Will you watch with Me for the dark to break to light?
Will you weep for what I'm weeping for,
Reach for those I'm reaching for--
Will you bear My heart tonight?"

I know it's not because You need me.
What's even better is the way You call me,
Inviting me to join You in Your mission for this world,
To walk with You and bear Your heart.

I yearn to ache with You in the watches of the night.
I want to watch with You 'til the darkness breaks to light.
I long to weep for what You're weeping for,
Reach for those You're reaching for--
Let me bear Your heart tonight.

   So I'll walk with You in the watches of the night.
   In the darkest times and seasons, I will look to Your Light.
   Help me welcome inconvenience and trust You with the rest,
   For there's joy that lurks in suffering,
   There is peace within this aching pain,
   When I care for what You care about,
   When I yield to be, myself, poured out
   By following my King.

I will ache with You in the watches of the night.
I will watch with You as the darkness breaks to light.
I will weep for what You're weeping for,
Reach for those You're reaching for--
Help me bear Your heart tonight.

Now.

In this life, every season has an ending. Just as we don't stay helpless newborns forever, there comes a day when you realize (or your parents realize) that you're getting too big to be carried. The days of being fed by others pass, and in time we grow and learn how to feed ourselves, how to make our own decisions, how to live. And even though we may sometimes look back at those special seasons of our lives where everything seemed great and want to go back to those carefree summer days in fourth grade catching fireflies in the backyard, that season has ended. A new one is here. And just ahead, peeking through the trees over the crest of this next hill, another season will come. And we don't always know what comes next. For me, I seldom do, and even when I have a glimpse of what lies ahead, I never, ever, know exactly how it is to unfold, and when it does, I realize that that little glimpse I had was just one very small part out of all God was doing.

But this is what has been impressed like a blazing brand upon my heart and mind lately: Now. Yesterday's seasons have passed, and God knows exactly how their memories and lessons will play into what is to come. Tomorrow is not yet here, but rests in the faithful hands of the very Author of time. But every moment, this is what lies before me: Now. I can't change the past or the future, but I am given a choice in the now, right here. Will I trust my God, or look to my own strength? Will I focus on those around me, who may only be nearby for a short amount of time, or on myself, whom I'll be stuck with for my entire life? Will I seek their good, or my own? Will I be bold when the moment calls for it, or will I cower? Will I dare to trust my God?

As with every season, this moment in my life is coming to an end--rapidly! I have just over three weeks left on this campus...three. Three short weeks. And then I venture into yet another adventure-filled season which I have no idea what exactly it may look like. God's leading me back home, leading me to transfer colleges and embark on a brand new adventure in regards to...well, pretty much everything. Life as I know it is once again changing. 

And it means a lot of painful goodbyes. For that, I'm truly grateful, because it's proof that God has blessed me so richly by surrounding me with so many people that I love dearly in Him and who have impacted and enriched my life in ways they may never know. Goodbyes for me are always intensely bittersweet, because I can't seem to help but deeply love the people God puts in my path. Even the ones my heart aches and agonizes over because they are so far from Him...in fact, those people are sometimes the hardest to say goodbye to, because some part of me they may never fully see expressed is inwardly crying out on their behalf, yearning for them to behold the Living God. 

But somehow, all these dreaded, agonizing farewells have come to hold a very special place in my heart. They are a token of God's goodness, and a reminder that even in my most painful moments, He is faithful to sustain and His joy remains unquenched. They may be moments I'd rather live without (I hate goodbyes!), but they are moments I would have never had unless God had brought me to them, unless He had never put people in my life whom I could care this deeply for. 

Still it is before me: Now. I have right now. Yesterday is gone, and tomorrow awaits, but unless my gaze is set on Christ's face and ready for what He has to say and do in the right now, that now will pass away before I had the chance to live it. When my eyes are straining ahead to try to figure out steps I haven't yet gotten to, they fail to see the now that lies between me and that future ahead. It is now I am responsible for. But praise God, I do not have to bear that responsibility alone. My life is mine to yield to Him. Now. Right now, in this moment.

So don't take the now for granted. Pull your thoughts from your to-do list and rest in His faithfulness, in the right now. He sees the future. He knows. He's got it. Quit worrying and trying to get there on your own steam and in your own ways, and let the One who laid this path at your feet lead you from the now to the tomorrow. 

Whatever season you find yourself in right now, don't take it for granted. Don't let now slip by without you getting to taste the beauty of living it with the One who brought you to it. Don't let it fade into the yesterdays by treating it as though it were gone already. Treasure it. Treasure Him. Seek Him. Follow hard.

Rak khazak!

Take Your Kid to Work Day

There is a scene in The Lion King where Mufasa takes his son, Simba, up to the top of Pride Rock at dawn and tells him, "Everything the light touches is our kingdom." 

After Simba's awed response, the young lion cub looks around and asks, "What about that shadowy place?"

"That is beyond our borders," Mufasa replies. "You must never go there, Simba."

Well, unlike Mufasa, our Father, when He shows us what all is under His dominion, does not order us to stay out of "that shadowy place" where the Light doesn't seem to be reaching. Instead, He says, "That's Mine too; they just don't know it yet." And rather than ordering us to stay put while He goes and takes care of things, our Father takes us with Him to work. He shows us the ropes. He teaches us how to defeat the enemy by relying on Him, and by training us to be like Him, enables us to reach others and win souls right alongside Him. 

I used to pray as if God preferred to do everything Himself, like a dad who would rather fix the car the right way and get it done more quickly than he would if he were showing his son what was wrong and what to do. But then God started showing me the grandeur of His plan. He is perfectly able to quickly, effectively, and effortlessly make all things as they ought to be. He could have destroyed Lucifer and the angels the moment they rebelled, could have extinguished Adam and Eve the very moment they ate of the fruit. He could have simply eliminated the sin that was trying to wreak havoc on His perfect plan for creation. But He didn't. Why?

Because He had a greater plan. He let Lucifer rebel, let him try to destroy and usurp what was rightfully His. God has been thwarting Satan's plans every day since. It started with a promise--the promise of a Messiah who would come and set His people free. And for centuries upon centuries, Satan accused God of having a double-standard. How come he was punished and cast away from God's presence, while the humans weren't? How could He forgive them? 

And then Jesus came on the scene and paid the price of sin, fixing the problem by offering Himself as the sacrifice for God's wrath, taking the just penalty of sin on our behalf. He made a way for us to be justified in the eyes of a holy God. Not only that, He adopted us as His own children. Us, who didn't even deserve to be slaves or servants, because what we really deserved was death. But He made us heirs of His Kingdom. 

But you see, our Father will never die--not in a stampede of antelope, nor by any other means. He is eternal. So we do not inherit the Kingdom by waiting until the present King dies. No, in His infinite wisdom and glory, God has made a way for something far better. We don't have to sit around and watch Him do His work. Instead, we get to be part of it! 

God uses people. It seems like a bad idea to us sometimes--why use the imperfect to represent the Perfect?--but God knows exactly what He's doing. Incredibly, He is able to better prove to this world who He is and what He is about through imperfect vessels known as human beings, because His strength is proven in our weakness, and His goodness in the midst of even our failure. And He doesn't leave us to an endless cycle of failure and forgiveness, either. He teaches and leads and builds us in His ways, after His own image, enabling us to be more like Him the more we seek His face and bear His heart for those around us. 

Do we always get it right? No. But just like a father teaching his child how to do something, when we mess up, He makes good come of it. Sometimes He uses our failures simply as a learning experience, but He also turns those situations around and uses them for good. Through it all, He leads us to follow in His footsteps. 

When People I Respect Break My Heart...

My confidence is not in people; it’s in Christ. Were it not for that, by now I probably would have been much more deeply shaken when people who are leaders in my generation give me reason to lose a measure of respect for them. However, it still grieves me deeply to see that kind of thing happen, especially with leaders who are Christians.

Lies can be powerful, but the Truth is stronger. Which is part of why I am not personally shaken in my beliefs or my stance when I see someone else believing or teaching a lie. But at the same time, witnessing that kind of thing always hits me squarely in the heart, because it grieves me to see anyone deceived themselves and/or deceiving others without knowing it.

I am currently in the middle of the third book in Ted Dekker’s Circle Trilogy, which have been my first introduction to his writings. These books are amazing and have deeply encouraged me in my own writing because of how poignantly and powerfully they display the Gospel through fiction and fantasy. Many times while reading these books, even though I haven’t finished yet, I have paused in awe as I witnessed within them something I have begun to glimpse in recent years about writing and its purpose. The ultimate purpose of writing is to communicate the truth, and fiction and fantasy provide an incredibly unique and—I believe—needed (at least to an extent) opportunity to talk about things that are real in terms of things that aren’t. Good writing will always, invariably, express at least some aspect of reality—be it human nature, a particular society or culture, whatever. But the most important thing any of it can point to is the reality of the things of God—who He is, what He has done, how He interacts with people, how He is at work in our world.

The Circle Trilogy contains a powerful and creative view of creation, the Fall, Christ’s sacrifice, and the new life we now have access to. Which is why I love them and part of why, when I found out Ted Dekker was coming out with a new sort of mini-series, I trusted him as a storyteller and expected to see the Gospel again within a different fictional premise.

He came so close.

But rather than the glory of the Good News, in the latter part of Eyes Wide Open, I instead found a painfully watered-down message posing in its place. The moment I started to realize where Dekker was going with the story, I started in shock and felt my heart tighten in a mixture of anguish and anger from the blow.

If it was only about me, I wouldn’t care this much. I learned a long time ago to “eat the meat and spit out the bones” when it comes to reading. But it’s not about me. That anguish and anger I felt? It wasn’t directed at Ted Dekker. It was directed at the subtle lies the enemy has somehow woven into our culture and which I suddenly realized Dekker had fallen prey to in some form.

Let me break away from this for a moment to give some explanation surrounding things here. In Eyes Wide Open, one of the main things Ted Dekker is confronting is self-image, which I agree with him is something that a lot of Christians struggle with. One of his main characters is a girl who is convinced she is ugly and who struggles with her external sense of image. I don’t want to act like all girls wrestle with this same issue of feeling the need to be pretty or beautiful, but I’ll admit that I, too, used to secretly lament that I felt I was fairly plain-looking and not attractive.

I haven’t believed that in years. 

What happened? Well first, I met the One who looks not on the outward appearance, but at the heart. Then, I realized just how vile and disgusting my heart was. Over the years, my sin had ravaged the thing and turned it into an icky, slimy, wretched, self-centered mess. But the same One who saw that even more clearly than I did, had already done something about it. He stepped into human flesh and lived a perfect life and died the death that alone could atone for God’s own, just wrath over the wickedness that otherwise would have forever separated me from His holiness. “He fought death, beat it, gave His life to the public,” as Flame says in the song “Joyful Noise.” He conquered sin and death and offered me new life in Him—His life.

Now my life is His, not mine. I died to my old self, and it is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me. I get to share my life with the One who gave it to me in the first place! And right around that same time when I started to truly understand who He is and who I am in Him, my feelings of insecurity slid to the back burner and then gradually started to disappear. I stopped caring about what others thought of me, because I was beginning to care more what God thought of me. And, not because of my own merit or anything I had to offer Him, He loved me. He loves me because of who He is, not who I am. He is love. And Love reached down to fight for the soul of a feeble, rebellious, selfish young girl so that He could draw her towards Himself, the only One who could right what was wrong within that soul. He performed His surgery, removing my heart of stone and transplanting His living, beating heart within my chest. It was all Him.

And where I defined my confidence and identity as coming from started to change from myself to Christ, I found I no longer had to worry about what I looked like—my physical appearance or people’s perception of me as a person—because it just didn’t matter anymore. All I really started to care about was what God thought, and because of Christ I am justified in His sight. God looks at me, and sees Jesus’ sacrifice that has washed me clean and given me access to enter before Him and to commune with Him. And at the same time, amazingly, He is aware of my sin and continues His work of sanctifying me—leading me in repentance and helping me to love and trust Him more with every step.

Returning to the book: in Eyes Wide Open, Ted Dekker presents a message that is based on a somewhat-subtle distortion of the Gospel. And I don’t think he did that on purpose in any way. The idea is rather prevalent in our “Christian” culture today, firstly, that salvation is all about us. Don’t get me wrong; it is and it isn’t. Christ did not die merely to let us feel better about things or to give us a better life, just like He didn’t die just to get us into Heaven after we die. Jesus said He came that we might have life, and have it abundantly. He also said He is the Life, and that the only way to the Father is through Him (John 14:6).

See, something crazy happens at salvation. You die to yourself so that you may truly live—experiencing Life as it was meant to be, united with God. And, according to Scripture, you find your life and your identity in the person of Jesus Christ. (I highly recommend reading Romans—Paul explains all this much better than I can!) God doesn’t step into your life to empower you to live like you want; He steps into your life to empower to live like He wants—what He created you for, which also turns out to always be what is best for us in the first place. Crazy, huh?

But see, there’s this lie that has crept into some people’s understanding of all that. It’s loosely based on parts of Scripture but not the whole—saying that because God created everything good in the beginning, we’re still basically good at the core; the good’s just been somehow clouded over by sin. Again, I recommend Romans—specifically chapter 3—for anyone wondering what the truth on the matter is. (Paul spends about half the chapter explaining why nobody is good or righteous in God’s sight apart from Christ.) This idea so many people have swallowed, though, says that our “real,” “true” self is buried deep down there somewhere, and that it’s what God sees in us and that He wants us to discover. It says that when the Bible talks about “dying to self” it’s talking about rejecting the “fake” you, the sinful one.

But it’s not. It’s dying to you, your desires, your life, your plans. That’s a hard pill to swallow, which is probably why the more palatable idea offered by the above ideology has become so popular. But when you truly die to yourself, surrendering all that you are and offering it up as a sacrifice to God (by the way, sacrifices die), that’s when you’re ready for real Life to set you free. As often as we focus on ourselves, God did not create us to live an existence that revolves around our own little lives. He made us to get caught up in something much bigger—His existence, His story, His plans. To know Him. We have to die to our own will, so that we can be set free to live in accordance with His will—which is life and peace and hope and joy…eternal Life (see John 17:3).

A side-effect of the idea that our “true” selves are good at the core is something that is voiced by one of Dekker’s characters in Chapter 20 of Eyes Wide Open: “You cannot love anything or anyone more than you love yourself and you can’t truly love yourself unless you see yourself whole. If you secretly disapprove of any part of yourself, you will secretly hate part of the one who made you.”

Love yourself…nowhere is that commanded in the entire Bible. If that was such an important component of what it means to be a Christian or to be set free to live as God wants us to, don’t you think He would have mentioned it at least once? Nope, again and again throughout Scripture love is characterized by a willingness to offer up itself, to give of itself for the sake of another. In fact, Jesus actually said that your love for your self and your own life should look like more like hatred in comparison with loving God, or else you are not His disciple. 

I know that some people have acted like certain passages imply that we're supposed to love ourselves, and if you believe that's the case, I beg you to go back and read the context of those verses. See if that's really what God is saying there. Also, keep in mind that human reasoning about what a verse says or means will always, only, invariably be that—human reasoning.

We love others because God first loved us. It’s not dependent on us or our ability. Like everything else about our lives, when we accept Christ’s gift of salvation, everything comes to rely on not us, but Him. Our identity is wrapped up in who He is—for apart from Him we can do nothing, and without Him we are worthless and without hope.

But we have Him! Because of His great love with which He loved us, Christ died to impart to us the Life that we could not live apart from Him, and He gave us Life in abundance. We get to trade in our identities—who we once were—and embrace who we are in Him—redeemed, rescued, restored, made alive to God in Christ, bearing His Spirit whose fruit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. “And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires” (Galatians 5:24). “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I that live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave Himself for me” (Galatians 2:20).

It’s obvious that Ted Dekker is addressing some major issues with Eyes Wide Open—identity being one of them. For that, I do respect him. I don’t want it to seem like I suddenly hate him or think he has terrible motives; I don’t. But like all of us, he is human and capable of being deceived. My prayer is that he would see the infinite beauty and know the peace that comes with the truth that our identities are not to be based on anything outside of Christ. It’s not up to us to do anything but believe and rely on Him. When we do that, we embark on the most glorious adventure of all: the life we were made for, a life spent knowing Him, more and more.

And the more you get to know Him, the more you get to know the person He created you to be. For that person cannot exist without Him, and will grow to look more like Him every day. 

{Philippians 3:7-16}

“My identity is found in Christ. Any other identity will self-destruct.” -Lecrae 

When Writing Becomes an Act of Worship

Two and a half years ago, God asked me to give up something. At the time, I wasn't sure if He meant put it on hold for a while, or actually give it up forever. All I knew was that He was asking me to trust Him and to entrust what had become one of the defining aspects of my life into His hands. This exchange took place early on in the summer of 2010, during my time at Ellerslie LeadershipTraining. I had come to Ellerslie with as clear of an idea for what my future held as I'd had up to that point, with several specific things God had highlighted that I felt He was calling me in. Among those things was writing. And it was special to me. 

See, a few years before that was when, through one comment from my Dad, I first began to realize I had any talent for writing at all. During the remainder of my time in high school, I began to branch out and write more than just school assignments and journal entries. I embarked on writing stories, and about a year before Ellerslie came around, I had written the first draft of a book meant to call my generation to rise up and live out what we say we believe. I felt strongly that God had led me to write it, and reasoned that therefore I was supposed to pursue self-publishing it once I had opportunity, which wasn't likely to happen before my time at Ellerslie was over. In addition to this completed draft, I had several stories in-progress I had been working on.

But then, when I least expected it, God asked me to give it all up. He wanted my gaze on Him, and though at the time I could not understand why He was asking this of me, I knew I needed to trust Him. The summer of 2020 was life-changing for me in more ways than I can probably come close to describing, but in the area of writing it was also pivotal. What I could not see then, when a large part of my identity was wrapped up in "what I could do for God," was that surrender was to be the avenue to something greater than I'd ever dreamed. God was drawing me to a life of worship--of adoration and communion with Him, not just part-time, but constantly. 

Surrender is not a one-time event. It means a constant, repeated act of choosing to yield to another's will. The beauty of true surrender to Christ lies in its continuation and the way God uses it for His glory. 

For me, I went through a season that summer where I literally could not write. It wasn't that I felt I shouldn't; it was that I tried over and over again, and found my attempts clumsy and inadequate. Part of it was that I was encountering things I had no words for, no way to adequately describe. In fact, that was probably a larger part of it than I realized at the time. But the reality, for me, was that for a time my ability was stripped away from me. And during that time, rather than collapsing into hopelessness, I found myself further enraptured by my God, by who He is and what He was doing in and through and around me, and lost sight of me and my own abilities. I became more satisfied in Christ than I had ever been before, and found that He truly was enough, even if everything else in my life was taken away. 

Toward the end of the summer, God surprised me by giving it back. We had an "assignment" of sorts, to write or compose something, some sort of remembrance, of what we had seen God doing during our eleven weeks of Basic Training. And as I sorted through the many things that had taken place in my own soul and those around me during that ridiculously short amount of time (for it seemed like so much longer, considering all that happened), inspiration struck. I found myself writing in a way I never had before, not just with the way I was trying to use an analogy to describe something, but with the sense of worship that accompanied it.

I had prayed during the writing process of that first-draft book I finished the year before, but by now something had changed within my soul. It wasn't just that I enjoyed writing more now that I had walked through a season without it. Something had changed, and suddenly writing became an act of worship. 

Two and a half years later, I am still in the process of discovering what it means for writing to be a form of worship. See, worship isn't just singing songs on a Sunday morning. It's more than a feeling that fades with the situation. Worship is a spiritual posture of surrender and trust and reliance and sweet fellowship with the God who created us to know Him. And it's meant to characterize every aspect of our day-to-day lives. If those in heaven are constantly worshiping the Lord (see Revelation 4:8-11), then "on earth as it is in heaven" (Matthew 6:10) looks the same, doesn't it? "For from Him and through Him and to Him are all things. To Him be glory forever. Amen. I appeal to you, therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as living sacrifices, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship" (Rom. 11:36-12:1). It's the beautiful, indescribable, joyous surrender and communion with our Creator that we were designed for. 

And recently, quite possibly more than ever before in my life, I have been experiencing times spent writing that are indeed simultaneously times of worship. I'm no longer writing for myself, out of simply a desire to create a story. It's not about trying to write something that will merely entertain people anymore. During a recent car ride on the way home from visiting relatives up North, I typed out just under two-and-a-half pages (which may just turn into a later blog post) about how I now perceive writing and why I write. 

But in the end, it's not about the writing or even what it produces. It's not even about the impact or effect it could have on others. Ultimately, it's about the worship, because that is what I was created for. Not stringing groups of words together on paper so that they make sense or prove some point. Not eloquence or lack thereof. Worship. 

Because we were created to live and thrive in a constant state of worship, of prayer, of communion with God. So "worship" may look different at different times. One moment, it may be singing to the Lord, and the next, it may look like loving the person next to you the way that God loves them. Sometimes it looks like picking up trash, and sometimes it looks like having a conversation with a close friend or a complete stranger. Sometimes it looks like getting alone with God, and sometimes it looks like sharing the Gospel. Sometimes it means painful sacrifice, and sometimes it means crying tears of astonishment when you see what God is doing or has done. Sometimes it looks like being completely still and silent and reflecting on God, or waiting on Him, listening. Simply put, worship means living in the center of God's will, every moment. Seeking Him, seeing Him, knowing Him more with each passing day. Sometimes, it even looks like sleeping--peacefully resting in His promises while you lose consciousness for a time...

And sometimes, it looks like writing.

. . .

Restless

Many times in my life, I have been restless. The reasons for restlessness have varied, but it's definitely been a recurring theme in my life. Sometimes, it's been a literal lack of rest--when I am not choosing moment-by-moment to trust in the Lord and His ability to work all things together according to His purposes, which are always far better than my own pitiful plans. Other times, however, I have experienced the type of restlessness that is more characterized by an earnest desire to see righteousness lived out, in my own life and the lives of others. And sometimes, it's sort of a combination of the two, when I want to see God's will happen, but fail to rest in His ability to accomplish it. 

There is, however, a certain restlessness we're called to as followers of Christ. It's the restlessness that cries out for God's Kingdom to come to this earth as it is in heaven, just as Jesus did (Matthew 6:10); the restlessness that relies on Him while yearning for Him to deliver and to have His way (Psalm 70:5), that shouts "Rak Khazak!" to others as it faces the seemingly-impossible, knowing that the Lord will overcome (2 Chronicles 32:7-8; Romans 8:31-39). It's the restlessness that causes us to forsake the temporary comforts this world offers us, and to plunge recklessly ahead into pursuing the fullness of the life Christ has given us--the eternal life which is defined as this: knowing Him (John 17:3; Psalm 16:11)...to count everything else as a loss compared with the greatness of knowing Him...to go all-out and be willing to sacrifice everything for the sake of following where He leads, trusting Him with everything He's given us. 

And so, today finds me restless. Restless in the desire to know Him more, restless to some extent in wanting  to move forward in certain things that He has shown me are part of His will for my life in the future, but also restless for the faith to trust Him more in everything, to seek His face and know His heart more and more, and to believe He will have His way. Restless for the world around me to see and know that He is God. I am restless to move forward in these things by continuing to entrust them to His perfect timing, for my ideas have never once proven to be better than His. So no matter how long I must wait, I will rest in confidence that the God who has never once failed to work all things together according to His good and glorious purposes will by no means fail to accomplish what He has promised. 

For example part of me wants to move into the Hood...now. In fact, if God were to suddenly tell me to drop out of college and move there, I'd do it in a heartbeat. But He hasn't, and it actually looks like He still has other plans for me in the meantime. And as I said, His plans are always better than mine, for He alone knows all things. So I will continue to trust Him with it all, to lay my life at His feet every day in surrender to His will, to follow where He leads and trust His steadfast faithfulness, knowing that when the time is right He will move things forward and it will all be far better than anything I could dream up or enact myself.

"I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in His word I hope; 

my soul waits for the LORD more than watchmen for the morning,

more than watchmen for the morning.

O Israel, hope in the LORD! For with the LORD there is steadfast love, and with Him is plentiful redemption. 

And He will redeem Israel from all his iniquities."

-Psalm 130:5-8