I was the classic little girl.
I loved dressing up, watching Disney movies, and spent hours fantasizing about how
someday my prince would come and sweep me off of my feet.
Now, you would hope that as I grew up I was realize that this dream wasn't practical.
Princes don't really exist in the real world, you'd reason with me.
But instead of letting my little girl dreams go, I allowed them to blossom.
To mature. To grow.
I allowed my longing for love to bury itself deeply into my heart, and it took root.
As I grew older I continued my search.
Constantly looking for the love that I just knew had to be out there.
I didn't give up hope.
I watched movie after movie and read piles of books that portrayed the love I was looking for.
The damsel in distress.
The glass slippers.
The castle.
It all held a golden glow in my mind, and I'd spend hours dreaming about my future.
As I grew up the desire matured a little.
Reason took somewhat of a grasp and lodged itself in there next to my dreams.
I realized that while castles, sparkly dresses and high heels weren't in my future,
I could still find that kind of love in a boy.
So I searched. I'd see a boy and BAM my mind was running -
thinking about how he'd come over and tell me that since the moment he layed eyes on me -
he knew I was the girl of his dreams.
Sigh.
Sadly, as I grew up, this never played out quite as I had intended.
As I reached my high school years I grew desperate.
I continued my search for perfect love through boys who on the surface seemed to offer it -
but underneath it was empty.
Their vows were worthless and shallow.
Movies and books continued to fuel my hope for the perfect love.
He had to be out there, right?
I mean, why else would there be so many books and movies dedicated to that kind of love?
All I knew was that if it existed - I was going to find it.
I wasn't going to settle for just any kind of love.
No passionless marriage for me.
I was determined.
As my later years in high school progressed,
My obsessive search continued.
My vision of prince charming morphed as the media continued to skew my view of love.
This summer I was praying about what my idols were, and obviously love is one of them.
A couple weeks later, God whispered in my ear something I had never thought about before.
The love I've been looking for? It does exist.
I've just been looking in the wrong places.
You see, a human boy can't fill the void in my heart that needs love.
No, only supernatural true love can.
Perfect love.
Love to die for.
Love that's already died for me.
Love that is all encompassing.
Love that's unconditional.
Love that is literally not of this world.
The love of Jesus.
I can honestly say I no longer struggle with my search.
Sure, we all have our days where we allow ourselves to be distracted by the world.
To believe the lie that we aren't completely satisfied in the love of Christ.
But the truth is, Jesus' love is way more than enough.
It's perfect.
Who knew that what I've been searching for my whole life has been right next to me?
The love I've desired ever since infancy has been waiting for me with open arms.
Contentedness in Christ.
What a wonderful feeling.
Thank you, Jesus.
I'll love you until the day I die - and after that for the rest of eternity.
Glass Slippers and White Horses
Whispers
Whispers
Everything with God is better.
In case you missed that, it's true.
Mornings are better.
Walking is better.
Sleeping is better.
Working out is better.
Breathing is better.
LIFE is better with God.
Actually, I'm not really sure how I lived before God.
What was my purpose in life?
Where was I going?
What were my dreams?
It's so hard to imagine a day without God.
Talking to Him.
Laughing with Him.
Sitting in quiet meditation.
Listening to Him.
I can't imagine life without the guidance of my Savior.
I fall asleep talking to Him.
Turning the world over in my thoughts.
Reveling in His ways.
Marveling at His voice.
I wake up comforted.
Hugged by the Creator of the World.
And I smile.
Have you ever noticed that the days you give to God in prayer are the best ones?
The days that you wake up and realize - this isn't about me.
It's not a question of "what will I do today?"
It's a question of "how will God use me today?"
or better yet "what does God have in store for me?"
It's the excitement of doing the work of God.
Of listening to His voice, and knowing that He will not lead you wrong.
His will for your life and His urgings are infinitely better than any plans we might have originally had.
And at the end of the day - you realize how extremely true that is.
God's plans are better.
When I follow the voice of God, His quiet whispers,
I don't think that "maybe I'm missing out"
or "I'd be happier if I was sinning" -
okay hopefully no one actually thinks that,
but if you substitute other words like having sex, drinking, popularity, etc
you get the idea.
Somehow we've twisted God.
We've twisted His will and His calling into something bizarre.
We think that we're sacrificing something for Him.
That we're giving up things that could make us happier so that we can follow Him.
Honestly? That's completely wrong.
When I honestly am seeking the will of God and His voice and earnestly following?
I'm so, so much happier than any worldly thing could make me.
Daily God fills me with a joy that I can't even begin to explain.
The joy of follow Him.
The days when I listen to God are the best days.
I never, ever look back and think "I wish I would have gone drinking"
or "I should have gone home with that guy"
No. Because worldly things pale in comparison to the joy of doing the will of God.
Sure, we all have our days.
Days when we don't listen.
Days when we give in to the voices of selfishness and the world.
But God is faithful, and He is waiting with open arms.
I guess all I'm trying to say is this:
God is good. He knows what He's doing. Listen. You won't regret it.
In case you missed that, it's true.
Mornings are better.
Walking is better.
Sleeping is better.
Working out is better.
Breathing is better.
LIFE is better with God.
Actually, I'm not really sure how I lived before God.
What was my purpose in life?
Where was I going?
What were my dreams?
It's so hard to imagine a day without God.
Talking to Him.
Laughing with Him.
Sitting in quiet meditation.
Listening to Him.
I can't imagine life without the guidance of my Savior.
I fall asleep talking to Him.
Turning the world over in my thoughts.
Reveling in His ways.
Marveling at His voice.
I wake up comforted.
Hugged by the Creator of the World.
And I smile.
Have you ever noticed that the days you give to God in prayer are the best ones?
The days that you wake up and realize - this isn't about me.
It's not a question of "what will I do today?"
It's a question of "how will God use me today?"
or better yet "what does God have in store for me?"
It's the excitement of doing the work of God.
Of listening to His voice, and knowing that He will not lead you wrong.
His will for your life and His urgings are infinitely better than any plans we might have originally had.
And at the end of the day - you realize how extremely true that is.
God's plans are better.
When I follow the voice of God, His quiet whispers,
I don't think that "maybe I'm missing out"
or "I'd be happier if I was sinning" -
okay hopefully no one actually thinks that,
but if you substitute other words like having sex, drinking, popularity, etc
you get the idea.
Somehow we've twisted God.
We've twisted His will and His calling into something bizarre.
We think that we're sacrificing something for Him.
That we're giving up things that could make us happier so that we can follow Him.
Honestly? That's completely wrong.
When I honestly am seeking the will of God and His voice and earnestly following?
I'm so, so much happier than any worldly thing could make me.
Daily God fills me with a joy that I can't even begin to explain.
The joy of follow Him.
The days when I listen to God are the best days.
I never, ever look back and think "I wish I would have gone drinking"
or "I should have gone home with that guy"
No. Because worldly things pale in comparison to the joy of doing the will of God.
Sure, we all have our days.
Days when we don't listen.
Days when we give in to the voices of selfishness and the world.
But God is faithful, and He is waiting with open arms.
I guess all I'm trying to say is this:
God is good. He knows what He's doing. Listen. You won't regret it.
Christmas is Coming
Christmas is Coming
When I say that Christmas is coming around this time of year people tend to put the back of their hand to my forehead, wave their hand in front of my face, and occasionally ask me how many fingers they're holding up. "Christmas? It's only October!" Maybe I'm one of those people who somewhat buys into the commerciality of the holiday. Maybe I just love the joy. I love the cheer. I love that everyone comes together around this time of year to celebrate as a family. I love the lights. I love every part of it.
I love the old Christmas movies and music. Bing Crosby becomes my best friend this time of year, and Mannheim Steamroller Christmas music is a permanent playlist on my grooveshark.
I guess the point I'm trying to get at is that I really, really love Christmas. I love just walking through stores and looking at all the things they bring out for the holidays.
This is the time of year that I want each day to last longer.
But, the real reason I love Christmas so much is that it's the time we come together and celebrate the day that our Savior came into existence. His birthday.
I think that's why I feel so joyous during this time of year, and every other time of year - Jesus.
Actually, I don't just think, I know.
I love the old Christmas movies and music. Bing Crosby becomes my best friend this time of year, and Mannheim Steamroller Christmas music is a permanent playlist on my grooveshark.
I guess the point I'm trying to get at is that I really, really love Christmas. I love just walking through stores and looking at all the things they bring out for the holidays.
This is the time of year that I want each day to last longer.
But, the real reason I love Christmas so much is that it's the time we come together and celebrate the day that our Savior came into existence. His birthday.
I think that's why I feel so joyous during this time of year, and every other time of year - Jesus.
Actually, I don't just think, I know.
"So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them." -- Luke 2:4-7
A Magnificent Transformation
A Magnificent Transformation
What do you think the point of life is? As a junior higher I would have answered popularity, friends, to be cool, or just to survive. But that's the problem - none of those are it. Trust me, I know. Do you feel alone? Fake? Hopeless? Because I've been there. I drank deeply of the cup of deep longing and loneliness. Are you searching? Searching for love, acceptance, or something to fill the void in your life? I've been there, too. No, I didn't try drugs, alcohol, or sex - but I tried pretty much anything I could get my hands on while still keeping my reputation as a good girl. You see, I wasn't sold on the whole "Jesus" thing in junior high - in fact, I rarely thought about him aside from Sunday and Wednesday and the odd week at church camp or weekend retreat. Sure, I thought I was "saved." I had said the prayer when I was 5, and after all - isn't that all it takes to be saved? A couple words spoken and then a sense of relief? In fact, had anyone asked me about my salvation I would have easily rattled off all the right answers, John 3:16, and told them I'd see them in heaven. On the outside - I looked like every other junior high girl. Heavy makeup, attention grabbing clothes, and my cell phone attached to my side. And most of the time? I was okay with that. Jesus stayed in His box, only seeing the light when necessary, and I went on with my life the way I wanted to live it.
Most of the time, this wasn't enough. I'd sit at home in my room when I was alone and wonder why I felt so empty. In 6th grade, I buried my nose in a books, big sweatshirts, and food for comfort. I figured if I shut out the world - I'd be fine.
7th grade rolled around and my desire to be popular intensified to an almost unbearable longing. I figured that the popular kids seemed to be happy, so that must be the answer, right? Being popular would change everything. It was my ticket to happiness, or so I hoped. So as my internal focus shifted to a friend focus, I thought I had finally figured it out. But as months went by, I realized I wasn't being real - I was pretending to be someone I wasn't, and people saw through it. This is where I hit the bottom the first time.
I'd run out of shapes to try to fit in the hole that was rapidly growing in my heart, and I was scared. That lonely feeling didn't just happen when I was alone anymore - I felt it even when I was with my friends and family. It'd strike at inopportune moments, and it's icy fingers gripped my soul in a panic and fear that I had never experienced before. It was slowly tearing me apart inside. I remember being so upset with my loneliess, lack of attention from my parents, and problems with home that I stood in the kitchen with a knife over my arm threatening to kill myself. Unfortunately, this didn't garner the reaction from my parents that I desired.
Rock bottom is a counselors office when a strange lady looks at you with condescending sympathy as she asks you questions and shakes her head. I didn't go back, but instead once again pasted a smile on my face - when internally the darkness was growing.
Rock bottom is a tear stained pillow, 3 am, and a shaky prayer.
Rock bottom is a last restort. I'm not going to say that prayer changed my life, because after a couple days of unreal joy I slide back in to my everyday routine once again, but I had for the first time seen a glimpse of light through the darkness.
8th grade came and went, and life went back to the good old "Jesus in a box" phenomenon that had obviously worked so well for me before. I remember thinking that Christianity was SO boring, and that I'd start caring, paying attention in church, and stop drawing on my bulletin when I was older and needed to be sure I'd make it to heaven. That's just a glimpse of the iron grasp Satan had on my heart.
I got bullied in volleyball, and the self-image problems started to rear their ugly heads. I was tall and lanky and where other girls had curves, I had limbs and a little pudge.
Freshman year I became super self-conscious and got in a bad crowd of bad attitudes, swearing, and disrespectful behavior. Let's just say Freshman year isn't a place I want to return to.
The summer of sophomore year came, and I went to camp like I had for the past 8 years of my life, but this time it was different. I went for twice as long as usual. My counselor, Lisa, was the first person I had ever seen that literally glowed with Jesus. You could walk in a room and feel His presence emulating from her. It was crazy, and I had never seen anyone that loved Jesus that much before. She changed my view of Christianity forever, but when those two weeks were over - I went back home, and sadly my faith hadn't changed enough to stand the test of time.
Sophomore year my search for the answer to the void in my heart continued, this time in the form of attention from the opposite gender. I didn't do anything physically, and I thank God for keeping me pure, but emotionally I gave parts of my heart away to boys that in no way deserved it.
I worked at Hidden Acres that summer, but my heart was definitely not in the right place. After a summer of being surrounded by people who actually care about Christ, I started to think this Christian thing was something I should try out for real. Through this whole process, you have to remember, I thought I was a Christian - I had no idea that my salvation was in no way true. I started reading my bible, but it was more to check it off my list and feel good about it than to actually learn, and I didn't really grow all that much. Junior year flew by in a whirlwind of show choir competitions and TV shows, and once again I found myself at Hidden Acres for the summer. This time around I at least had good intentions. I was there for the campers instead of the friendships, but I still wasn't finding my Joy in Christ.
Senior year came - this time I was sure I had it all figured out. I thought I was growing - after all, I was reading my bible - but in reality my faith was pretty stagnant. I guess I grew in small increments through small group - but my faith was largely based on pride and proving my salvation to others - and nothing whatsoever compared to the true joy that is found only in Christ. As I allowed my idols (boys, body, and food) to reign fully, my gaze shifted once again from the heavens - this time to the number between my toes each morning when I stepped on the scale. I can honestly say that instead of living every day for Christ, I would live for that number. If it didn't go down, I'd feel self-conscious, ugly, and worthless that day. Sadly, this was a daily process that continued all throughout my Senior year. The only thing that stopped my number obsession was the fact that camp was rapidly approaching and I was no longer around a scale any longer.
The day after graduation I left for camp once again, this time running away from issues that I should have dealt with. It was easier to suppress them and pretend they didn't exist than to face the fact that I was definitely not okay. Camp was great - I loved my campers and started to realize my deep dependency on Christ once again. I learned to worship because of my love for God and my desire to show Him that I loved Him rather than to prove how spiritual of a person I was. That summer, I got a glimpse of what a true relationship with Him looked like. The weekend of the 4th of July I went home for the first time, and the problems I'd been running from started to catch up to me. That weekend was the first time I fully realized how far I'd let my idols drag me away and the extent of the damage they'd done. Before I knew it my time at home was done and I was back at camp to finish off the summer - halfway broken by my sin.
At night I'd sit on my bed and try to figure out what had happened. Where did it all go downhill? When did I lose confidence? The last day of camp came sooner than I had expected, and I once again found myself at home.
For the next two weeks, I shut myself in my room. I contemplated my life and sank into a deep, deep hole of self-hatred. I finally saw myself for what I truly was - a dirty rotten sinner. Before, I had at least in some form, assumed that I deserved my salvation - that I deserved to be died for. Hah.
The loneliness of my junior high years once again sank its icy claws into my heart. I hated myself to the truest form of the word. I didn't want to look at myself. I didn't want to eat. All I did was work out, sleep, and talk to God. Some days I couldn't even bring myself to talk to Him, after all - why would He ever want anything to do with me? How could He love me, when I couldn't even like myself? I started trying to put back together the broken pieces that I now called my life. I had reached the deepest depths of despair that I had ever experienced. After two weeks of deep self-loath for my sinfulness, I looked up. By the grace of God, I looked up - and my gaze was riveted on the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I broke down, and once and for all, gave my life over to Christ. He shined a light into my deep hole of sin, picked me up, and dipping a white towel into a cup of blood, wiped the dirt from my face. I was purified in the blood of the Lamb. That day, God dragged me out of darkness and into His marvelous light. He changed my head knowledge into heart knowledge. Two weeks passed - two weeks of emotion - two weeks that seemed to drag and fly by at the same time. Two weeks of being torn between high school and college, and having no idea where I belonged. I had no idea who I was, but all that really matter was that God did - and He was slowly revealing His plan to me little by little.
As I reflect on my life and the magnitude of change, I can only fall to my knees in awe of a God that is the definition of good, faithful, and loving. I am truly a changed being. God took my heart of darkness, and removed all the darkness - replacing it with light. The hole in my heart no longer exists, it's been filled. God has given me unspeakable Joy, and I am eternally grateful.
{For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. God demonstrates His own love towards us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. - Romans 5:6,8}
Most of the time, this wasn't enough. I'd sit at home in my room when I was alone and wonder why I felt so empty. In 6th grade, I buried my nose in a books, big sweatshirts, and food for comfort. I figured if I shut out the world - I'd be fine.
7th grade rolled around and my desire to be popular intensified to an almost unbearable longing. I figured that the popular kids seemed to be happy, so that must be the answer, right? Being popular would change everything. It was my ticket to happiness, or so I hoped. So as my internal focus shifted to a friend focus, I thought I had finally figured it out. But as months went by, I realized I wasn't being real - I was pretending to be someone I wasn't, and people saw through it. This is where I hit the bottom the first time.
I'd run out of shapes to try to fit in the hole that was rapidly growing in my heart, and I was scared. That lonely feeling didn't just happen when I was alone anymore - I felt it even when I was with my friends and family. It'd strike at inopportune moments, and it's icy fingers gripped my soul in a panic and fear that I had never experienced before. It was slowly tearing me apart inside. I remember being so upset with my loneliess, lack of attention from my parents, and problems with home that I stood in the kitchen with a knife over my arm threatening to kill myself. Unfortunately, this didn't garner the reaction from my parents that I desired.
Rock bottom is a counselors office when a strange lady looks at you with condescending sympathy as she asks you questions and shakes her head. I didn't go back, but instead once again pasted a smile on my face - when internally the darkness was growing.
Rock bottom is a tear stained pillow, 3 am, and a shaky prayer.
Rock bottom is a last restort. I'm not going to say that prayer changed my life, because after a couple days of unreal joy I slide back in to my everyday routine once again, but I had for the first time seen a glimpse of light through the darkness.
8th grade came and went, and life went back to the good old "Jesus in a box" phenomenon that had obviously worked so well for me before. I remember thinking that Christianity was SO boring, and that I'd start caring, paying attention in church, and stop drawing on my bulletin when I was older and needed to be sure I'd make it to heaven. That's just a glimpse of the iron grasp Satan had on my heart.
I got bullied in volleyball, and the self-image problems started to rear their ugly heads. I was tall and lanky and where other girls had curves, I had limbs and a little pudge.
Freshman year I became super self-conscious and got in a bad crowd of bad attitudes, swearing, and disrespectful behavior. Let's just say Freshman year isn't a place I want to return to.
The summer of sophomore year came, and I went to camp like I had for the past 8 years of my life, but this time it was different. I went for twice as long as usual. My counselor, Lisa, was the first person I had ever seen that literally glowed with Jesus. You could walk in a room and feel His presence emulating from her. It was crazy, and I had never seen anyone that loved Jesus that much before. She changed my view of Christianity forever, but when those two weeks were over - I went back home, and sadly my faith hadn't changed enough to stand the test of time.
Sophomore year my search for the answer to the void in my heart continued, this time in the form of attention from the opposite gender. I didn't do anything physically, and I thank God for keeping me pure, but emotionally I gave parts of my heart away to boys that in no way deserved it.
I worked at Hidden Acres that summer, but my heart was definitely not in the right place. After a summer of being surrounded by people who actually care about Christ, I started to think this Christian thing was something I should try out for real. Through this whole process, you have to remember, I thought I was a Christian - I had no idea that my salvation was in no way true. I started reading my bible, but it was more to check it off my list and feel good about it than to actually learn, and I didn't really grow all that much. Junior year flew by in a whirlwind of show choir competitions and TV shows, and once again I found myself at Hidden Acres for the summer. This time around I at least had good intentions. I was there for the campers instead of the friendships, but I still wasn't finding my Joy in Christ.
Senior year came - this time I was sure I had it all figured out. I thought I was growing - after all, I was reading my bible - but in reality my faith was pretty stagnant. I guess I grew in small increments through small group - but my faith was largely based on pride and proving my salvation to others - and nothing whatsoever compared to the true joy that is found only in Christ. As I allowed my idols (boys, body, and food) to reign fully, my gaze shifted once again from the heavens - this time to the number between my toes each morning when I stepped on the scale. I can honestly say that instead of living every day for Christ, I would live for that number. If it didn't go down, I'd feel self-conscious, ugly, and worthless that day. Sadly, this was a daily process that continued all throughout my Senior year. The only thing that stopped my number obsession was the fact that camp was rapidly approaching and I was no longer around a scale any longer.
The day after graduation I left for camp once again, this time running away from issues that I should have dealt with. It was easier to suppress them and pretend they didn't exist than to face the fact that I was definitely not okay. Camp was great - I loved my campers and started to realize my deep dependency on Christ once again. I learned to worship because of my love for God and my desire to show Him that I loved Him rather than to prove how spiritual of a person I was. That summer, I got a glimpse of what a true relationship with Him looked like. The weekend of the 4th of July I went home for the first time, and the problems I'd been running from started to catch up to me. That weekend was the first time I fully realized how far I'd let my idols drag me away and the extent of the damage they'd done. Before I knew it my time at home was done and I was back at camp to finish off the summer - halfway broken by my sin.
At night I'd sit on my bed and try to figure out what had happened. Where did it all go downhill? When did I lose confidence? The last day of camp came sooner than I had expected, and I once again found myself at home.
For the next two weeks, I shut myself in my room. I contemplated my life and sank into a deep, deep hole of self-hatred. I finally saw myself for what I truly was - a dirty rotten sinner. Before, I had at least in some form, assumed that I deserved my salvation - that I deserved to be died for. Hah.
The loneliness of my junior high years once again sank its icy claws into my heart. I hated myself to the truest form of the word. I didn't want to look at myself. I didn't want to eat. All I did was work out, sleep, and talk to God. Some days I couldn't even bring myself to talk to Him, after all - why would He ever want anything to do with me? How could He love me, when I couldn't even like myself? I started trying to put back together the broken pieces that I now called my life. I had reached the deepest depths of despair that I had ever experienced. After two weeks of deep self-loath for my sinfulness, I looked up. By the grace of God, I looked up - and my gaze was riveted on the most beautiful sight I had ever seen. I broke down, and once and for all, gave my life over to Christ. He shined a light into my deep hole of sin, picked me up, and dipping a white towel into a cup of blood, wiped the dirt from my face. I was purified in the blood of the Lamb. That day, God dragged me out of darkness and into His marvelous light. He changed my head knowledge into heart knowledge. Two weeks passed - two weeks of emotion - two weeks that seemed to drag and fly by at the same time. Two weeks of being torn between high school and college, and having no idea where I belonged. I had no idea who I was, but all that really matter was that God did - and He was slowly revealing His plan to me little by little.
As I reflect on my life and the magnitude of change, I can only fall to my knees in awe of a God that is the definition of good, faithful, and loving. I am truly a changed being. God took my heart of darkness, and removed all the darkness - replacing it with light. The hole in my heart no longer exists, it's been filled. God has given me unspeakable Joy, and I am eternally grateful.
{For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. God demonstrates His own love towards us in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. - Romans 5:6,8}
Broken Prayer
Broken Prayer
{I wrote this a while ago, but never published it}
As I kneel by my bedside
Previous thoughts from the day
come crashing through my mind
words I silently spoke to myself
what I said to myself when
I ate food
I looked in the mirror
I watched numerous couples walk by
"Don't eat that, you'll get fat"
"You'll never be skinny"
"You'll never have what they have"
until I got home with tear ridden eyes
threatening to spill onto the carpet below
I thought I had conquered this long ago
that God had taken my struggles from me
that I was once again experiencing Joy
but instead, that Joy?
While it was real at the time,
was really just my fear
masquerading for all to see
fooling some
confusing others
so here I kneel
pleading for help
acknowledging I can't do it alone
Asking for strength
for I am oh, so weak
pleading for forgiveness
for the time that I could have spent with you
but instead I spent it consumed with my own thoughts
so here I am
broken and shattered on the ground
asking you to once again, pick up the pieces
and glue me back together
and to somehow use my weaknesses
for your glory and strength
When you are for me,
who can be against me?
As I kneel by my bedside
Previous thoughts from the day
come crashing through my mind
words I silently spoke to myself
what I said to myself when
I ate food
I looked in the mirror
I watched numerous couples walk by
"Don't eat that, you'll get fat"
"You'll never be skinny"
"You'll never have what they have"
until I got home with tear ridden eyes
threatening to spill onto the carpet below
I thought I had conquered this long ago
that God had taken my struggles from me
that I was once again experiencing Joy
but instead, that Joy?
While it was real at the time,
was really just my fear
masquerading for all to see
fooling some
confusing others
so here I kneel
pleading for help
acknowledging I can't do it alone
Asking for strength
for I am oh, so weak
pleading for forgiveness
for the time that I could have spent with you
but instead I spent it consumed with my own thoughts
so here I am
broken and shattered on the ground
asking you to once again, pick up the pieces
and glue me back together
and to somehow use my weaknesses
for your glory and strength
When you are for me,
who can be against me?
Quiet times with the Lord
Quiet times with the Lord
Alone. As a college student, that word is foreign on my tongue.
Our bathrooms? Are communal.
My room? I have a roommate.
The hallway? Are always packed with people.
So every morning when I take time to get away from the hustle and bustle that is college, I take time to breathe in a moment of surreality that I am, for an hour, completely alone.
Okay not completely, Jesus is there. And God. And the Holy Spirit. But I want them to be there.
So it's different. But anyways, back to what I was saying.
I find that through this lack of alone time - I really appreciate the time I have with God.
Those stolen moments in my quiet place.
Just me and Jesus. My bible. My notebook. And a pen.
These are times of thought. Of meditation. Of learning.
I find that the times I learn the most, are when I am alone with God and His word.
I've been reading "When I Don't Desire God" by John Piper, and the chapter I'm in really stresses the importance of memorization.
I look back to this summer, the last time I really delved into memorization (Hebrews 12) and how God used that to really transform my mind into a haven of scripture.
I've come to this conclusion - God is more important to me than class.
I'm not saying that good grades aren't great, but I'd much rather spend time with God than study.
So I compromise. I get my time in the morning, and if I study all afternoon I can go on a "date" with Jesus later on that night as well.
Yes, since I chose to not date in high school, the extra time I spend with Christ, aside from my daily quiet times, became "dates" with Jesus. When other girls went on dates with boys, I went on dates with Jesus. No heartbreak, only a fountain of perfect love.
So now that I'm in college, I continue the tradition. Sometimes we get breakfast. Sometimes we just sit in my quiet place. Sometimes we go on walks.
My quiet times have become one of my favorite parts of Bethel.
God is my favorite professor.
And I'm excited to see what's going to be on the midterm.
Our bathrooms? Are communal.
My room? I have a roommate.
The hallway? Are always packed with people.
So every morning when I take time to get away from the hustle and bustle that is college, I take time to breathe in a moment of surreality that I am, for an hour, completely alone.
Okay not completely, Jesus is there. And God. And the Holy Spirit. But I want them to be there.
So it's different. But anyways, back to what I was saying.
I find that through this lack of alone time - I really appreciate the time I have with God.
Those stolen moments in my quiet place.
Just me and Jesus. My bible. My notebook. And a pen.
These are times of thought. Of meditation. Of learning.
I find that the times I learn the most, are when I am alone with God and His word.
I've been reading "When I Don't Desire God" by John Piper, and the chapter I'm in really stresses the importance of memorization.
I look back to this summer, the last time I really delved into memorization (Hebrews 12) and how God used that to really transform my mind into a haven of scripture.
I've come to this conclusion - God is more important to me than class.
I'm not saying that good grades aren't great, but I'd much rather spend time with God than study.
So I compromise. I get my time in the morning, and if I study all afternoon I can go on a "date" with Jesus later on that night as well.
Yes, since I chose to not date in high school, the extra time I spend with Christ, aside from my daily quiet times, became "dates" with Jesus. When other girls went on dates with boys, I went on dates with Jesus. No heartbreak, only a fountain of perfect love.
So now that I'm in college, I continue the tradition. Sometimes we get breakfast. Sometimes we just sit in my quiet place. Sometimes we go on walks.
My quiet times have become one of my favorite parts of Bethel.
God is my favorite professor.
And I'm excited to see what's going to be on the midterm.
I'm An Israelite
I'm An Israelite
Idolatry. It's been a struggle since the beginning of time. The Israelites were constantly falling privy to the clutches of those enticing gods that other nations brought with them. They gave up on God too many times to count, running instead into the jeweled arms of the ever so enticing gods.
If you would have asked me what I thought about idolatry a couple months ago and reminded me of the Israelites' unfaithfulness I would have scoffed and wondered aloud how they could be so dumb. I'd probably have said something along the lines of "those gods were made of stone and metal, and our God is living and breathing - how could they be so easily swayed?"
Naivety in a bottle.
I've recently realized that I am in no way any better than any of the Israelites. My poision of choice might not be a golden statue, but it's the same thing. Instead of a figurine I put money, approval, physical fitness, family, and even sometimes the appearance of being spiritual in front of God. Not okay. I'm just as much an unfaithful child of God, constantly allowing myself to get distracted by the shiny thing on the side of the road, as the Israelites were back in the day.
Idolatry. Still a current issue.
Definitely something I'm working on.
If you would have asked me what I thought about idolatry a couple months ago and reminded me of the Israelites' unfaithfulness I would have scoffed and wondered aloud how they could be so dumb. I'd probably have said something along the lines of "those gods were made of stone and metal, and our God is living and breathing - how could they be so easily swayed?"
Naivety in a bottle.
I've recently realized that I am in no way any better than any of the Israelites. My poision of choice might not be a golden statue, but it's the same thing. Instead of a figurine I put money, approval, physical fitness, family, and even sometimes the appearance of being spiritual in front of God. Not okay. I'm just as much an unfaithful child of God, constantly allowing myself to get distracted by the shiny thing on the side of the road, as the Israelites were back in the day.
Idolatry. Still a current issue.
Definitely something I'm working on.
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