Dear Sensitive Soul,

I know you.

I am you.

I’ve been there, too. Chalk it up to hormones or anxiety or maybe simply feeling everything so big… our emotions make us so confused. What do we trust? What do we allow ourselves to feel without drowning in the sea of it all? There are parts of you that you’re so thankful for. And parts that you’ve been pressing down and away.

This is how He made you. Carefully designed, intentionally formed. He knew you’d shed more tears than some others around you. Neither of you are better or worse. It’s just your particular design.

And yet, we hold those tears in, don’t we? For what? To try and preserve some image of something we aren’t?

We feel immature when we cry at something beautiful. We feel weak when we cry at something hard. We feel stupid when we cry at something that doesn’t even necessarily affect us. But we feel it all.

It’s true, your emotions are not meant to be your guide. But they are meant for  something. They are God’s creative design to show Himself to the world. That He cares, too.

We are pushing ourselves deeper into apathy by shutting down any part of us. To ignore the brokenness is to ignore the beauty. In order to experience the fullness of His presence, we can’t allow our heart to be only partially open. We were created to be whole beings. Our experiences have jaded us. The same heart that feels overcome by His presence is the one that feels brokenness and grief overwhelm, too.

For the most part, I’ve finally stopped despising the moments where I just feel it all. The moments where I’m overcome. It doesn’t feel good. It’s like at all at once, grief hits. And somehow so does God’s immense goodness. Joy, kindness, memories of rejection and pain… they all mesh together. I don’t understand how they coexist.

But I can’t help but believe that this is how He intended it. We are looking to compart-mentalize our brokenness from His presence. From His holiness.

But He wants to be wrapped up in every piece; every shred of you. The broken ones. The mature ones. The parts of you that don’t even feel like you anymore. All of the good and maybe even especially the bad.

And to those of us who have found ourselves trapped in the curse of apathy; you who are sensitive by design: you will feel again.

But there’s a catch: you’ve got to be willing to experience all of it.

Yes, the Bible talks a lot about our flesh not leading for us. About capturing our thoughts and making them obedient to God. But God’s word also tells us that there’s a time for everything, and that our emotions have a place.

“A time to cry and a time to laugh. A time to grieve and a time to dance.” Ecclesiastes 3:4

“Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep.” Romans 12:15

And. And. And.

Cry and laugh. Be sad and experience joy. It was never meant to be one or the other.

You were never meant to be wrapped up or defined by what your emotions tell you. But you were never meant to shut them down to appear strong, either.

So maybe…just try. Let your feelings and your emotions happen, and let God be involved. He is involved in our spirituality just as He is involved in our being human. By allowing ourselves to be broken and human, we allow Him to truly be God. Don’t believe the lies that He is only looking for the whole parts of you. It’s because of Him that you can be whole at all.

Allow yourself to be the one that He created before He formed the world. Remind yourself that He’s not looking for anything from you except… you.

 

“Going through the motions doesn’t please you, a flawless performance is nothing to you. I learned God-worship when my pride was shattered. Heart-shattered lives ready for love don’t for a moment escape God’s notice.” [Psalm 51:17]

It becomes so apparent during the winter. I don’t know if it’s the lack of sunshine, or maybe the two weeks of rain we’ve been having. Maybe it’s the fact that the flu has kept us from being in the real world for any consistent amount of time. These are all circumstantial.

The truth is: it all just highlights my reality…

I am a mom with anxiety.

Bear with me, followers of Jesus. Jesus is my Healer and my Peace. He has and is continuing to redeem my story. And still, I live in the world. I live here with stress and a nonstop lifestyle and little people who need me twenty four hours a day. In no way am I dismissing the power that God Almighty has in my life. I also believe that my Jesus sees and dwells within every aspect of my life.

And my reality is this: there are moments where it’s like I can see my situation from the outside. Nothing slows down in any way. But it’s like this bird’s eye view. It happened the other night. My kids were just wild animals. My husband wasn’t home yet. You may know it as the witching hour. They were running up the stairs and sliding down them as they yelled and giggled and bumped into each other. I was just sitting there on the couch. Frozen on the outside. Losing it on the inside.

My head was telling me very calmly, “They aren’t doing anything wrong. You will miss this someday. The noise, the chaos, the laughter. Just let it be. Be present. Let them have fun.”

And at the exact same moment, my body was saying, “I cannot handle this one second more.”

The noise feels constant. It feels physical. The touching doesn’t stop. I know I’ll miss it. It won’t always be this way. There is a tug of war in my mind:

Take it all in! —– Also, get off of me or I may throw you.

Literally, guys. As I was typing this, the laughter turned to tears and someone’s mouth began bleeding. I won’t name names.

Jesus is enough. And at the same time, this is my reality.

I speak out loud that everything is okay. I remind myself that none of this is really a big deal. Nothing is actually wrong. My brain speaks the words to my heart, “remember to breathe.”

How can I allow this to be my life if Jesus is my Healer and my Peace? Am I not really trusting Him? Am I actually just crazy? Am I not really free? …Is He not really enough?

I have no answers except for one.

Yes. He is enough.

But wait. He’s not just enough to save you from it all. All of the mess that you want so desperately to break free from. He is enough for you in it. 

He is not simply enough to free you from your anxiety. He is enough to walk with you in it.

With the risk of this sounding a touch too dramatic, this is the truth about us and about Him from Psalm 23:

 

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil, for you are with me;

your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies;

you anoint my head with oil;

my cup overflows.

 

Let’s call it for what it is. There are times anxiety feels like death. And there are times where the fact that we’re dealing with it at all feels like we’ve lost our grasp on life. This is God’s promise to us. He promises deliverance. And at the same time, He promises to be with us as we walk.

He is comforting you in it.

He has prepared a table for you, with exactly what you need, while your enemy screams in your head that you are crazy. He sneers that you don’t have what it takes. So we cry out to God and say, “Get me out of here!” And your Father pulls out a chair for you and says, “But I have given you everything that you need right now. Sit with me.”

I know it’s hard to believe that He’s present and aware when it’s all so awful. But He’s teaching you. Not teaching you a lesson out of discipline. He’s teaching you who He really is out of ridiculous love.

I’m in it with you. This is a never ending process of grace. Let’s take the brave step together of just allowing Him to pull out the chair for us at the table. For everything that overcomes you, Your Savior has already overcome.

 

“I have told you these things so that in Me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.”

[John 16:33]

It happens all the time.

I love words. You know this. I love encouraging words and words that are pretty to look at. So I scroll through Pinterest and Instagram and save all of the images that I love. Bible verses, lyrics, anything and everything Morgan Harper Nichols will ever put together. But every once in a while, my thumb stops scrolling. My soul loves the little image but my brain gives me this small, flashing warning sign.

It looks good… but it’s just not all the way true.

This is one of them, in one form or another:

“In a crowded world, there is enough room for you.”

Okay, wait. I know. Don’t shoot me yet. I agree with this statement. The world isn’t wrong about this! There is absolutely room for you. You are needed. Your perspective, your gifts, your talent, your creativity, your passion and your vision… it’s true. No one can give what you give. You desperately matter.

And I read these little images and I want to punch the air and go, “Yasssss girl! There’s enough room for me!”

But it’s only half the truth. And half the truth is dangerous. The world isn’t following up on the other side. The side that Jesus is longing to uncover for us.

There is room for you, yes. But there is also room for them.

Everything around us would tell us otherwise. We are living in a breeding culture of competition which gives us two choices: fight for our spot or back down and let someone else have it. There is no in between.

The other really tricky part of this is that even in the church, we haven’t really addressed it. Yes, we talk about the body of Christ. We need all of the parts, right? So my gifting may not be what yours is; and that’s totally okay. But what about the hard reality that lots of us actually do hold the same category of gifts? This is where it gets messy. This is where the competition begins. Most of us are okay with someone else being better at us in an area that we aren’t super passionate about to begin with. Me? I’d like to be the best at everything, if I’m honest. But there are a few roles in my life where I can feel the tension. There are others who are gifted in the same way. Mine isn’t the only blog out there. The world is full of people sharing their words in hopes that you will feel less alone.

So, yeah, I needed to be reminded that Jesus has called me to my particular areas and to pursue them anyway. But maybe even more than my acceptance that there is enough room for me is that there is also space for them.

Them.

Ooooh… them. It’s so vague. I know. It’s meant to be. It encompasses literally everyone else. The ones you like and the ones you don’t. The ones you want to see succeed and the ones you secretly wish might fail.

Them.

The other mom who also raises incredible kids.

The other writer who has just begun publishing a blog.

The other musician who shares the same talent.

The other small group leader who’s super wise and engaging.

The other hostess who is insanely gifted with decorating and cooking.

The other woman who inspires you just by living her life.

Everything good that we have to offer comes straight from God’s Spirit. The problem is that we spend so much of our time drowning in insecurity that we are fighting to figure out how God has gifted us in the first place. This gives us no energy or passion to encourage it in anyone else.

I’m just wondering if we could change it up. Instead of fighting for what we believe is our rightful place in the world, what if we simply accepted everything we are and looked for ways to call out the best in everyone else?

Super easy, right? I know… I know it’s not. A few typed out words in black and white isn’t going to change the narrative of God’s hope for us working together as family.

But you can.

You can change the narrative. You can accept that you are called and chosen by God, and so are they. You can confidently accept that you are really talented… and so are they. You can look for ways to call out the gifting in someone else that they can’t even see yet.

You can begin the process of God’s hope for His family; looking for ways to outdo one another in love.

The world needs you, and the world needs them.

 

 

“For no matter how significant you are, it is only because of what you are a part of…What we have is one body with many parts, each its proper size and in its proper place. No part is important on its own.” [1 Corinthians 12:20-22]

I can promise you two things about the flu:

1. If you’re looking for a quick weight loss plan, this is surely one way to do it.

2. It’s the worst. For real.

It’s been eleven days and I still don’t feel all the way better. I got the flu shot. I got Tamiflu. I got an antibiotic for the extra crap that added itself into my body. I took the vitamins. I drank the bone broth. It’s just rough times, y’all.

And nine days later, I had my first anxiety attack in months. It was such a bummer. Plus I still had a headache, so add a lot of crying, and that definitely didn’t help.

Here is the thing that I think most of us forget: we are still just people. We can do all the work in the world, take the right meds, see a therapist for years, trust God 100%, and we still just melt down sometimes. This is my reminder to me and to you: it’s okay. You are not Superwoman and you are not God.

In our darkest moments, what are we looking for from God? If we’re deep-down honest, I wonder if most of us would say we’re looking for a word from God. We’re looking for His reassurance, His promises, His guidance. His voice. Not at all the wrong thing to look for. But we’re missing out if we’re simply looking for the voice of our Father.

Because the truth is that we have access to all of Him.

In Luke 8, we see this woman who has been hemorrhaging for twelve years. Insert every horrible phrase here. Ugh. Yuck. Bummer. It says that the crowds around Jesus were practically crushing Him. And in the chaos, “She came up behind Him and touched the edge of His cloak, and immediately her bleeding stopped.” [v.44]

Jesus is surrounded by people. Noise, crowds, most likely a ton of people were touching Him. But He noticed. He knew that someone was healed simply by His presence. Verse 47 says, “She realized she couldn’t remain hidden…” She told Jesus it was her, and that he had healed her. And He responds, “Daughter, your faith has healed you. Go in peace.”

She didn’t wait for Him to turn to her and speak the magic words. She believed that He Himself was healing, and one touch was all she needed. Just being close enough to touch Jesus and believe that He’s enough – this is the kind of faith He’s looking for from us. Yes, He wants to talk to us. He wants to have that kind of intimate connection and friendship that involves healthy communication.

But have we forgotten – just one touch from Him is enough? And more than that; He cherishes every encounter. They never pass Him by. He never ever misses when that one wound begins to heal and create a beautiful, permanent scar. Yes, His words contain all power. But it’s Him.

So often we’re looking for that confirmation, that “yes” from God. That promise that He will heal, He will mend, He will redeem.

Can I lovingly tell you this? There is a time to wait on the Lord. And then there is a time to remember that He has already made you these promises. No, Jesus isn’t walking around for us to physically touch. But He promised that His Spirit He sent us is even better. We have complete access to the Healer in and through His Spirit: Emmanuel; God with us.

Let’s not forget just how simply Jesus provides everything we need: be in His presence. I know it’s kinda vague. But no matter what it takes, find a way. Lock yourself in the car with worship music. Get up before everyone else in your house and sit with an actual Bible. Go outside and ask Him to meet you. It’s simpler than we’ve made it.

So if He seems quiet; if it feels a little like you may be ignored; rest assured. He’s so present. In fact, He’s longing to be even closer to you. There are times when presence and proximity hold more power than words could.

Your belief and your trust in what He can do in your life have never escaped His notice.

Your quiet “yes” has never remained hidden.

 

“The Lord sees all we do; He watches over His friends day and night. His godly ones receive the answers they seek whenever they cry out to Him.” [Psalm 34:15]

It sounds so good. So motivating. So encouraging. It sounds like it’s pushing us away from the comparison trap. But it’s a lie. It’s created a new comparison trap and it’s drowning us.

You don’t have to be perfect – just better than you were yesterday!

The only person you should try to be better than is who you were yesterday.

Look in the mirror – that’s your competition.

These words have brainwashed us. Whether from a workout class, an inspirational speaker, or just a quote on Instagram. It sounds good in theory. Don’t settle or become apathetic, right? Keep working, keep pushing. But this is the mindset that our world has convinced us that has us locked into the belief that we’ll never actually be enough.

It’s put us in competition with ourselves. As if we needed more pressure.

And if, for some reason, we aren’t much better than we were yesterday, we feel like a failure. I know I’ve been there. I’m plugging along on my beach body workout and Autumn is trying to encourage me, saying, ” You don’t have to be better than me, you just have to be a better version of you than you were yesterday!” But I’m dying and can’t do another push up and I definitely did more push ups yesterday. You get the idea.

I am one hundred percent convinced this is where so much of our anxiety comes from. This is what gives us that illusion of the truth that our if our progress isn’t upward and linear, we’re failing.

I’ve just begun to wonder what Jesus thinks of the phrases we’ve coined as truth in our every day lives. As we run around encouraging each other and ourselves to just be a “better” version of us, I wonder if His heart breaks a little. If He’s quietly saying, “But I’ve already made you the best version of you. I’ve made you in My image. Formed by my hand. Purposed for a calling that will bring Me glory.”

By pushing to be a better version of ourselves, we’re continuing to rely on ourselves. We’re wearing ourselves out while we have a Father who doesn’t hold the same expectations. In fact, He’s got a future that, although it’s for good; it’s full of ups and downs. It’s not full of “better than yesterday” because that’s not how He works. It’s full of pain and joy and learning and growing. It’s full of missed steps to learn more about His grace.

Instead of better, He’s focusing on closer. 

Less measuring, more grace.

Less striving, more resting.

Less achievement, more growth.

Less independence, more reliance.

Less popularity, more intimacy.

While we make charts of our progress and compare ourselves to yesterday, our Maker is simply holding up a mirror to our faces to reflect His glory. Our progress has nothing to do with us, and everything to do with Him. The mirror is not your competition. It’s the beautiful tool God uses to remind us Who’s we truly are.

So if you’ve spent three months relatively free from anxiety and somehow found yourself unable to breathe again, rest. You don’t have to be better than yesterday.

If you’ve worked on your anger and thought you overcame it, only to be caught up in rage again, rest. You don’t have to be better than yesterday.

If you spent so much time working your way out of that dark hole, only to feel like it may be swallowing you back up again, rest. You don’t have to be better than yesterday.

If you thought you were making progress on that dream, and it just suddenly seems to be halted and nothing is moving forward, rest. You don’t have to be better than yesterday.

It can stop here. This secret striving. This weary comparing. Instead of working to be better, we can surrender and simply choose to be closer.

 

“We can all draw close to Him with the veil removed from our faces. And with no veil we all become like mirrors who brightly reflect the glory of the Lord Jesus. We are being transfigured into His very image as we move from one brighter level of glory to another. And this glorious transfiguration comes from the Lord, who is the Spirit.”

[2 Corinthians 3:18]

Okay, so I had an okay blog post all ready to go for you yesterday. I wasn’t thrilled with it. Maybe I won’t be thrilled with this one, either. I guess we’ll find out. But I was telling you all about enjoying the slow days of January. All we do is complain about how fast life is passing us by, right? Let’s celebrate the slow days!

And then, my daughter came down with the flu.

WAH.

This is how I feel. I was doing good for, like, the first twenty-four hours. I was patient and loving in the middle of the night. I cleaned the absolute junk out of the bathroom without complaining. Y’all, the flu sucks. Yes, we all got the shot. And yet, here we are. Just so much yuck.

I do a lot of typing and hoping that you’ll read about how God is enough for your absolute worst case scenario. In your grief. In your walking through death and in your complete feeling of failure as a parent. In your broken marriage and your identity crises. We tend to seek out God in those moments. They’re so big; so over our head, it’s like we don’t really have a choice. God’s got to intervene.

But what about the days that are just… blah? Does He care? Is He rolling His eyes? What does He think about your attitude? Here’s what the Bible says in Luke 12:

“What is the value of your soul to God? Could your worth be defined by an amount of money? God doesn’t abandon or forget even the small sparrow He has made. What about the seemingly minor issues of your life? Do they matter to God? Of course they do! So you never need to worry, for you are more valuable to God than anything else in this world.” [Luke 12:6-7]

Here’s the catch with this promise: in order for God to show up in our “seemingly minor issues”, we’ve got to invite Him in. We’ve got to believe that He’s big enough to care about the small stuff. This isn’t even really about whether or not God’s interested in our bad day or not. It’s about our level of intimacy with Him.

Are we running to Him when things go wrong? Or are we running our mouths to our friends? Are we letting iced coffee or a new sweater try to settle that anxious and uncomfortable place in us? Or are we clinging to the only One who can truly comfort and strengthen us?

Before you jump to conclusions that I’m a rockstar in this area, let me just clear it up for you. My go-to comforts when my day is just not treading upward are coffee and cleaning. I know, I’m not on drugs and I’m not drinking myself out of my reality, but I’m still running to things other than Jesus to fill me and calm me. I drink coffee because coffee is made of love and magic. I clean to create the illusion for myself that I have some control. Well, and also to kill all of the germs. The flu is getting out of this house in Jesus’ name. But instead of running to Him with my frustration and my whining, I take matters into my own hands and I push that piece of our relationship away. And my frustration grows as I rely on myself to fix my crappy day.

Even as I’m writing it now, it doesn’t sound like much of a big deal. Friendships and coffee aren’t sin. But I’m telling you, these are the moments that deepen our relationship with Jesus. Instead of compartmentalizing His presence in the big moments of our lives, He’s desperately longing to just walk out each day with us. All of it. The traffic, the meeting, the doctor’s appointment you’re nervous about. The tension you feel with your husband and the weight you just can’t seem to lose. Your frustration with your schedule and your decision about which pillows to get for your living room. I’m serious. If it matters to you, it matters to Him. Because everything about you has everything to do with Him. 

The best part? We can make the decision right now to change it. To let Him in instead of keeping Him in the Jesus box we’ve created. We can take that one step toward Him instead of taking one step away. Yeah, like right now. Wherever you are. Tear down the walls of the Jesus box by talking to Him in the car or in the kitchen or in your office. He can’t wait to hear from you. And if you need some words to help, you can borrow mine.

 

God,

Thank you for hearing me however it is that I come to you. I’m sorry for relying on myself to get through. I confess right now that You are alone are my Comfort, my Healer, my Strength. Forgive me for not trusting in You enough to care about the things that bother me. Help me to remember that although You are my God, You’re also my friend. Help me to see my worth and my value in You. Right now, I’m just tired. Things aren’t awesome, and I want to allow you into that space. You are big enough to handle the smaller issues of my life. You owe me nothing, and still You give me everything. You are so good. Thank you for iced coffee and Lysol wipes. 

Amen

 

 

“I don’t know if it’s supposed to be like this.”

This is what my friend voiced to me through tears as she shared where things are in her life. As she waits for grief.

If you’ve been there, you know. The loss is coming. Whether it’s a death or the removal of a person or something else from your life; you understand the pain. And this is one of those things that you just can’t know until you know.

I sat with her as she cried. Neither of us talked. I kept trying to think of something to say and then remembered how I felt during that year and half of what felt like constant loss. As much as I love words, they often fail. But presence and comfort? They hold a different kind of weight.

This post feels messy and unorganized. But I know that too many of you are out there. Right now. Walking through life with a heavy heart wondering if it’s supposed to be like this. Trusting God the best you know how, but with a broken heart. Wondering how and when He’s going to heal it like He promised. Glancing around, questioning if everyone else knows this feeling, or if maybe you’re just crazy and lost.

It isn’t just the death of a person in your life. It’s the loss of who that person used to be to you; either through illness or tragedy or just a broken relationship. Loss takes on so many faces.

Here’s what God promises when it comes to our suffering:

“He always comes alongside us to comfort us in every suffering so that we can come alongside those who are in any painful trial. We can bring them this same comfort that God has poured out upon us. And just has we experience the abundance of Christ’s own sufferings, even more of God’s comfort will cascade upon us through our union with Christ.” [2 Corinthians 1:4-5]

This verse made me angry for a significant amount of time. It sounded good to me in the beginning. That everything I go through will have a purpose because, someday, I’ll be able to comfort someone else. But as the days stretched on…honestly? It just didn’t seem worth it anymore. Because when you’re surrounded by suffering and pain, hope dims. Hope for redemption or healing or joy on the other side of it all seems so unreachable.

Let me be really clear before we dig any deeper here. God does not cause any of your pain. He’s not forcing a hard life on you for you to learn a lesson. But he turns every painful thing into something good, if we’ll let Him. So this: what you’re walking through right now? This suffering? This seemingly unanswered prayer? This hole in your life that feels like it grows deeper every day?

You have been entrusted to experience the comfort of God.

I’m not talking about just easing an uncomfy situation. I’m talking about drowning and suddenly finding breath again kind of comfort.

You have been given the privilege of being able to understand and empathize. You’ll be able to look that woman in the eye that just had a miscarriage and say, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been there, too.”

You’ve been given the gift of holding the hands of another widow and being able to understand her loneliness.

You’ve been entrusted with the experience of healing from divorce to let another woman know that there is hope and a future on the other side.

But, listen. You may not be there yet. You may be right smack in the middle of it, and God isn’t asking anything of you other than to let Him be the one to comfort you. Your time will come to pour it back out on someone else. But right now? God is longing to wrap you up. Even as you feel stupid because someone else is going through something harder than you. Even as you push Him away to try to be strong. There is no pressure for you to be further along in your journey.

If your eyes are blurry with despair and you’re not sure if you even believe hope is possible, I am here as proof that God can resurrect a broken heart. I am still a slow work in progress. I still grieve. But I am not hopeless. And I’m here to tell you it won’t always be this way. I know you can’t see it now. But I promise you, it is such a gift to understand someone else’s pain.

Trust God.

Trust that He really is good. He really is kind. He actually does love you the way you hope deep down that He does. Let Him carry you through with His comfort. Believe that the phrase “purpose in your pain” is real and not just a nice sounding string of words.

Trust God.

 

 

Dear Stuck,

I know you’re feeling trapped. I see you. I see you trying to pray or worship or just try to get through your day. You’re doing everything that you think is right and yet… nothing seems to be changing.

This big space has come up between us and I know you’re unhappy about it. It breaks my heart, too. I can’t tell you that it’s not your fault because I never move. But I do not fault you. And I don’t hold it against you. Whatever it is that you’ve allowed to creep in between us, I’m ready to completely forget about. Just choose Me.

What I’m longing to teach you is how passion is in the every day; the normal and the mundane. It comes through your desperation. I know you’re doing your very best to trust Me.

I know you love Me, but do you need Me?

This is where that small divide grows. When you confuse contentment with complacency. I have so much more for you. But you don’t need to wait for your future to unfold for this kind of more. It’s simply more of Me. Not more blessing or more promotion or more answers.

Just Me.

You may need to stop waiting for me to do something and just wait for Me.

My heart grieves when you believe the lies of the world that your strength comes from your independence. I’m never judging you. But I am the One who has everything you’re looking for.

Your desperation is what brings about that closeness that you’re looking for. If you love Me but don’t need Me, you’re automatically at a distance. I know neither of us want that.

I know you love Me, but do you need Me?

If you’re feeling stuck today, just express your need for Me. It sounds so simple, but it’s monumental. I have already chosen you. I love you with an unfailing and perfect love. I know you best. I know you have really good intentions, and I see your heart. I know you’re desperate for some guidance. I know you’re hurting and you need comfort and hope. I know you feel a little numb and you feel like you can’t even remember how to try and find Me. As things feel more still than you’d like, and a little too quiet, I promise; I’m still right here.

Seek Me, and you will find Me. I promise. I am your source. I am your strength. I am your joy and your peace and your comfort. I am the sustainer or your passion and your faith.

But if you are relying on yourself or someone else for any of these things, I’m not going to fight for My spot. I’m looking for your whole heart and your affection.

I love you no matter what or whom you choose. No caveats or questions. But I long for you to choose Me. I have all that you need. I hope you’ll choose Me back.

Love always,

Your Sustainer

 

“O God, you are my God; I earnestly search for you. My soul thirsts for you; my whole body longs for you in this parched and weary land where there is no water. I have seen you in your sanctuary and gazed upon your power and glory. Your unfailing love is better than life itself; how I praise you! I will praise you as long as I live, lifting up my hands to you in prayer. You satisfy me more than the richest feast. I will praise you with songs of joy.” [Psalms 63:1-5]

 

I’m probably one of those people you hate being around on New Years. I freaking love it. I love the official end and beginning. I love celebrating the anniversary of my engagement to my husband. I love that we’re all letting go and starting over together.

I get it, though. I see all of the issues with New Years. There’s such tension. Set goals, except make them really realistic so you stick with them. But also make them big so that you don’t dream too small, right? And I’m going to take a wild guess at where you may be right now. You are hoping for December thirty-first to roll into January first with no fanfare, and no real attention. Because the thought of starting a new year feels so daunting and painful and…big.

How can you move into a new year when that person isn’t walking into it with you? How can you set goals for a better you when you are just trying to survive through the next ten minutes?

The truth sounds cheesy.  I almost hate to put it here. But if you’re feeling hopeless and darker than you wish you did, the truth is what it is.

Every day is a new day. 

This is way deeper than a cliche saying that you might buy on a sign. It’s straight from the hand of God in Lamentations 3.

“The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
   they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.” 

This is why you can take a deep breath instead of holding it in when you wake up on the first day of the year. It’s another day. And so is January second. And February sixteenth. And May and July and November. Every single morning holds the same hope that you wish you had on the first day of a new year.

And the best part? There’s no pressure. There is no pressure for you to be something or someone that you have held up on a pedestal for so long. That person that you wish you could be? Those goals you wish you could stick with to become a “better person”? They don’t define you. Honestly. Going to the gym five days a week is important for your health, but your identity runs deeper than your discipline.

The person you wish you could be has already been defined and molded by a perfect God.

Can I tell you a secret? I think 2019 was my year. I just didn’t know it until it was over. I’m not sure how it happened. Was it counseling? Just growing up? Anti-depressants? Maybe. Jesus? Yes. Absolutely Jesus. It wasn’t all good. But I found so much freedom. Instead of planning out how I was going to be a better person in the coming three hundred and sixty-five days, I took every single moment as it came. Most of my energy was spent learning how that was even possible.

And throughout the days, I learned not to be okay. Like, really not okay. I learned to allow others not to be okay and let go of my need to be the one to make them whole. I let go of stuff and created space. I said no. I said yes. And I did it with intentionality. I let myself be present instead of clinging to the fear of missing out. Well, mostly. The process is never ending, people.

Let go of the way the world has convinced you that you have to grow. It’s not linear. It’s not big or small or anything that you can create yourself. Can I tell you something?

You don’t have to be better than you were yesterday. 

Don’t listen to them when they tell you to be a better you. Just be you. And if you have lost you, or even if you haven’t, let grace find you. As you worry about growing because everyone else around you seems to be, let this set you free:

“It’s not the one who plants or the one who waters who is at the center of this process but God, who makes things grow.” [1 Corinthians 3:8]

Your growth is not your responsibility. If you’re going to grow, grow deep in grace. Grow in intimacy with the One who knows and loves you fully. God is the One who makes things grow.

This kind of growth can’t be measured or tracked. Don’t worry about what you’ll do this year. Or who you’ll be. Or what you won’t do. Choose Jesus today. Right now. He’s already chosen you. The version of you that you wish you weren’t. The parts of you that you wish weren’t a part of you. You are intentionally chosen, fully known and fully loved.

So if thinking about the next three hundred and sixty five days makes your throat close up, just stop. God’s mercy is enough for today. And His faithfulness is enough for tomorrow. And you don’t need to worry about anything further than that.

So January first? It’s just another day.

No pressure.

I know the feeling.

Christmas is one week away. There are lights and hot drinks and maybe even snow. You hear nostalgic music and watch the same movies you did every year as a kid. You’re supposed to feel happy. But instead, your heart is beginning to shred a little between choosing joy and being grounded in reality. The darkness you feel and the twinkly lights around you are trying to co exist, and their effort is creating an earthquake.

I know the feeling.

Right now one of my closest friends is grieving the loss of his grandmother. Right now a friend is praying for her nephew to recover from an overdose. Right now I am preparing to face my second Christmas without my dad and the first without my grandfather. And right now, there is a little girl named Olive on my Instagram. The doctors declared that  her heart stopped beating, and there are thousands of people praying for her to be raised to life.

And Christmas is seven days away.

What are we supposed to do? How are we supposed to merge our reality with peace and joy?

We aren’t. Jesus is the one who does the reconciling. It cannot make sense to us. If you are grieving or praying for a miracle, can I gently speak truth to you that I wasn’t able to hear from God for several years?

It doesn’t sound very Christmasy. You won’t purchase a chalkboard sign with this stuff. But it’s the truth. It sounds good even though it’s in fact, really painful.

Death to us is not death to God. It actually leads to true, eternal life. 

We want to see miracles. We want to see the dead raised to life. We want to see little three-year-old girls returned back to their parents so that the glory of God might be displayed. And there are time that this is God’s will. He wants us to believe in the impossible because He is absolutely capable of it. And yet, there are times that His miracle doesn’t line up with ours. There are times when the miracle is eternal. It feels almost insensitive to try to share with you right now, but it has to be the truth. If not, what do we actually believe in?

The true miracle is that the ones we hold most dear to us are now in the arms of the one who has reconciled them back to Himself. Their Father. Their Creator. The Truth is that although God experiences our pain, He’s reveling in the beginning of eternity with someone we love.

So if you feel like your heart is being pulled between the Christmas season and the loss or pain you’re facing; you’ve got to know that they are one and the same. Just because the world around us has convinced us that it is supposed to look happy and bright doesn’t mean it’s true.

The Truth is that we celebrate a baby being born with one purpose: to die in our place. So as one part of you fights to choose joy and the other part fights not to drown in your sorrow; God understands.

He has never asked you to put your reality aside to have joy or peace. And He never will. The Joy and the Peace of the world was sacrificed for you to experience an eternal miracle.

The pain, the light, the suffering and the beauty; it was meant to coexist. Don’t let anyone convince you otherwise.

And when the darkness threatens to pull you under, remember; the Light has come. Not just to be born as a baby, but to suffer as a man. For you. So that you would be forever saved, and so that you would know that you don’t face anything alone.

The gifts of this season are joy and peace, yeah. But there’s more. The gift is just as much the nearness of God in the pain. The comfort in the midst of loss and confusion.

Wherever you find yourself, He has found you there, too.

 

“And this Living Expression is the Light that bursts through gloom –

the Light that darkness could not diminish!” 

[John 1:5]