Our ministry is not what enables our intimacy with the Lord... rather it is our personal intimacy with the Lord that enables and empowers our ministry. So friends, do not neglect spending time with the Lord. He is your lifeline, your strength, and your daily sustenance.
I didn't intend to take the whole summer off of writing, but that's what happened. This summer has been filled with change (both good and bad). God has been doing so much lately, and it hasn't all been easy. He has been changing plans and pausing dreams, revealing idols and misplaced identities, asking for surrender and deeper trust. But for some reason, even though so much has been happening, month after month, I have found myself without words.
Maybe you, like me, have had a hard time finding words to pray. Maybe this isn't unique to this time and what's going on in the world. Maybe you always find it hard to talk to God? You're not alone, and I want to share something that has proved helpful to me when I just don't have the words.
Maybe today is a hard day for you. Maybe today reminds you of a loss of a child, a loss that felt like your very heart being ripped from your chest. Maybe today intensifies the longing you feel for a child and the grief that follows you because of this unfulfilled desire. Maybe today reminds you of the broken relationship you have with your children and your desire for redemption. Maybe today reminds you of the strained relationship you have with your own mother.
Have you ever felt forsaken by God? Alone in your suffering? Have you ever felt that your prayers aren't heard by God? That no one, not even God, could understand the depth of what you are walking through? Regardless of what you are walking through, it's precisely here - in these darkest moments - that the events of Easter are so poignant...
All of this COVID-19 stuff is affecting us each differently, bringing up a range of emotions from indifference to panic. But I think regardless of what we're feeling today, we could all use some comfort. I hope this post is a reminder that in the midst of it all there is still rest and peace to be found.
Oftentimes as a writer I find myself blanking as I stare at my computer, trying to muster up some words to write. Funny enough, oftentimes in life I find myself blanking when I try to talk of God's goodness or faithfulness. This feels embarrassing to admit, but it's true, and maybe you've done the same thing?
In a beautiful way, the birth of this church has been one of the most tangible ways I have seen God's faithfulness to us. But, if I'm honest, I struggle to see God's faithfulness in every area of my life, and I have a feeling I'm not alone in this.
When it comes to my walk with God, most of my doubts and spiritual struggles come down to the question "Am I really believing that God is who he says he is?" This question seems to come up again and again as I struggle through the ups and downs of life.
My year-long Bible reading plan is taking me through the Gospels and I just love it. I've been able to see Jesus' character as I read the accounts from the disciples who spent so much time with him. Recently I read this verse and I slowed down a bit...
I've come to wonder...what does my incessant striving say about what I believe about myself? About the Gospel? What does your striving say about you? Where can we find rest?
I often struggle with the contradiction between striving to be more like Christ while also trusting God to work through me. The juxtaposition seems almost impossible. How are we supposed to work out our own salvation if it is God who is working in us?
Am I the only one who has a hard time accepting it when God says "no" to me? Am I the only one who grits my teeth in frustration when God's response to my prayer for a good thing is "wait"? Am I the only one who feels forgotten by God when something hard happens in my life?
As believers, we must write as one who will give an account for every word we speak (and write). At the same time, there is grace when we don't get it right. We must embrace this tension, writing with fear and trembling while leaning into the abundant grace of God.
We are scared of failing. Scared of imperfection and - moreso - of letting people see the ways we don't quite meet the standards we've set for ourselves. But, you see...in the most beautiful way, imperfection is an invitation.