But You, God.

Maybe it's not okay anymore, as a Christian, to say 'I'm burned out', 'I can't do this anymore', 'I'm tired'; 'this is not my job.' - to continue in this line of thinking. To say, 'I can't go back there, Lord - to that same place, that same group, the same cycle of sin.'

I get irritated with myself, and this lack of faith, like - do I really believe nothing is impossible for You?

Do I really believe that You do new things? That there is new mercy for me here? I'm asking the One Who breathes LIFE, Who makes dead things alive... dry bones, ashes & phoenix-type stuff, the One Who couples brokenness w/ beauty, weakness w/ strength... Who resurrects the dead - even the dead in me? Who are You, and what can You do? Remind me again, because my attitude needs a 180*.

The truth is, I am tired... but You never sleep!
I do get burned out, but You never stop burning. A flame in the dark, You never stop creating, never stop imagining, but at the same time never change; You never stop breathing fresh vision into Your leaders & people, if we would just stop to listen.

'I can't', but You can.

'I won't go back there', because You're already walking in ahead of me, guiding & protecting me, a fierce, bright Light.

Blip #2 Perspective

It hit me today; I don't really know why, but for all of the talk and supposed doom & heartlessness of our time, I think there is more good to witness and as a result *believe*, if we could just flip the lens we've been staring through blankly.

For every mundane or painful moment I've experienced, or for however many more of ours collected together and added up, I see equal parts (if not more) joy-filled, beautiful, more full of love - the component we've all been feeling is missing, angrily heralding for more of - it's here.

It's good to hold newborns, to see (and hear) just how quietly snow falls - to witness strangers helping each other in parking lots, curious connections turning into full-blown camaraderie - and spouses falling back in love with each other after what I imagine must have felt like an eternity.

I don't know. But on a day like today, I can smile to myself, pull my coat in just a bit tighter, and continue to stare out through a kaleidoscope.

Blip # 1: Forgiveness

Have you ever caught yourself, when wronged or offended, saying "oh yeah, I remember the time they             ", or "I'll never forget the time she said             ", holding on to them like pieces of ammo (justification), making judgements out of moments, marring not only someone's character but a chance at understanding/forgiveness? Repentance. Reconciliation.

I think if we're honest, we've all done this.

One of my resolutions for the new year is to be a duck (let it rooolll off your back). In order to do this, to wade through bitter waters on the way to brighter shores, we have to let these offenses go - lift the noose from our perpetrator's neck since our own was cut down long ago.

Cut it Off

In Matthew 5, Jesus tells us (para) that if our eye or hand causes us to sin, it would be better to cut it off than to condemn the entire body to Hell. (Dang.)

Can you imagine how painful ... to intentionally sever yourself, to * cut off* what is causing our bodies sickness (and our God grief) for our eventual spiritual good?

I can.

It is painful. The illustration He uses is meant to convey the self-sacrifice & pain it requires to follow Him, and to resist sin (specifically surrounding adultery in this passage).

It has taken me a long time to finally 'get' that some friendships are simply not profitable.

If they don't lead you back to Jesus, and if the entirety of the situation is not bringing God the honor and glory He's due ... it is not profitable. Even if they are *godly* - it is not profitable.

So what choice is there? I don't think God ever desires severed relationship... but He also requires holiness.

Whatever it is that is causing our feet to stumble, our minds to slip, our eyes or hearts to sin - must be cut away.

Cut it off.

Then, heal.

Forgive.

We must choose to continue down Lit paths, in persistent brotherly Love (though perhaps a little more guarded, & with notable, marked distance).

In the Interim

Even When It Hurts (Praise Song) - Hillsong United

I'm not Ann Voskamp.

My blog is not interlaced with beautiful shots of Canadian farmland, 'the hard things', 'the farmer's hands', or the ethereal language and grace that God has so evidently and supernaturally grafted into her. No. My keyboard is more attuned to the interlacing of pumpkin spice cake crumbs with key cracks (which some would argue is beautiful) ... it's all true, though. I'm white, it's October, I admire Ann, and apparently you need to know that these kinds of things are happening in the world.

Along comparison-drawing, you also need to know that even now, the people-pleasing shadow that once followed around a corpse, still sneaks up behind me whispering all kinds of evil: 'who do you think you are? Who gave you the authority (or the assignment) to do any of this?', and I have to squeeze my eyes and believe my God, and shut that shadow down - not unlike Gideon who shook before men even though he was already Named 'warrior'.

Anyways. The point of this post is to perhaps re-direct our focus to God during times of uncertainty. Are you waiting on God, and I'll push you: what are you doing in the waiting?

Do we treat the 'waiting' as something to be endured, to grind our teeth and 'just get through it' in order to truly arrive at the next thing - the thing we were really after? Friend, I'll ask: what if the 'waiting' is the point?

Do we faint or lose heart when God's direction is not clearly spelled in the sand, or proclaimed from the skies? Will we wait well, or second-guess Him, or simply (more easily) slip into a vegetative state from a lack of perceived 'movement' on His part? Plainly put ...

{Is our thinking of God's movement in our lives toward 'the next thing' - or toward holiness?}

Let's face it: there's not always going to be a 'next thing'. We see this throughout scripture and in the character/nature of God. If our God is the god of quiet, humble things - it makes sense that the valley/desert/flat-line experiences that force us to wait (or, remain dependent!) are of the utmost value to Him. It's where He does the majority of His surgical work in us, and where we, in turn, do our most growing.

Maybe it's dismantling the worldly idea that Kingdom work is only 'successful' if it's shrouded in glory. Listen - glory and grandeur belong to God, not necessarily our adventures. We are the King's vessels waiting for marching orders, and we must make a pact to not take a moment for granted, even the ones where we wait. What if waiting is the point?

So while we're flipping through metaphorical magazines - we can always come back to one blood-stained, grace-soaked page for growth in the interim:

God, how can I Live well today?

One step in front of the other, hour by hour (moment by moment), one thought, one interaction at a time clarification: Lord, show me how to Live. well.

To Love. To leak Grace (L. Harper). To forgive. To be patient. To be still.
God, train us while we wait.

From one of the four honest chambers

I'm weary of this paralytic liturgy.

I guess it doesn't matter how many of her pictures you like. Or how many people you love {or love you} or who you favor or have over. You're not mine & I'm not yours. That's the end. I release my heart of this; I've released you a thousand times over this at the foot of my brokenness & crossed beams. God, do you even still hear me? This irregular heartbeat?

When Strivings Cease

I look around lately, and it's like we all have the same symptoms to this disease no one will name.
It's like a clamp around every heart, pressing down when we least expect it, causing shooting pains and other classic warning signs.
Like we're all aching to just take in a full breath.
"Busy-ness".

I was struck by this line from an old song recently; I hope it can be the burst of oxygen we all need:

When strivings cease.

To the stay-at-home parent who feels overlooked/insignificant in the "grand scheme" of how the world works ... when strivings cease.

To the working parent who feels like they're failing ... when strivings cease.

To the overtaxed leader ... when strivings cease.

To the woman who looks in the mirror and just sees things that need to be "fixed" ... when strivings cease.

To the parent/friend of kids/teens feeling dejected ... when strivings cease.

To the person feeling rejected ... when strivings cease.

To the older person who feels irrelevant ... when strivings cease.

To the younger person out to prove something ... when strivings cease.

To the person who feels invigorated/dejected by a full/empty calendar ... when strivings cease.

To the woman who feels like she has to be a part of {or have a hand in} everything ... when strivings cease.

To the woman who attempts to control everything (because she secretly feels out of control) ...

when strivings cease.

To the provider, the leader, the mentor, the father, the mother, the friend ... when strivings cease.

As these days continue to slip between our fingers, and with time so short, let it be our collective thinking & prayer to surrender daily, *ALL* to Jesus. Our Captain, our Protector, our Friend ... apart from Whom we can do & be... nothing {from dust to dust}. 

See, when our striving ceases, His Love and Power are magnified & then unleashed {in and through us} out into the hurting world that so desperately needs it. Are they worth it? And are we willing to let go?