Something That I Want

Are any of you familiar with the song that played while the credits rolled after the Disney princess movie Tangled ended?

It's by Grace Potter; entitled {tada!} Something That I Want. The rather catchy chorus taking up the song goes like this:

Something that I want
Something that I tell myself I need
Something that I want
And I need everything I see

I don't like this song. Mainly because I think it's unimaginative and pointless, but also because it makes an awful sort of sense if you look hard enough at the first two lines. 

Because there's something that I want.

And I've gotten so used to wanting it that...well, yes...it became a need.

I pushed it away at first - the wanting - but as time went on I forgot the wisdom of trust and began to lean on my own understanding.

I stopped waiting for God and decided that if anything was going to be accomplished, I was going to have to step in and do a little work.

And that, my friends, was a horrible idea.

Because the funny thing about wants is that they can be castles in the air. And the funny thing about castles in the air is how easily the cracks, shudders and non-existent foundation can be ignored, smoothed over, and excused. It shifts a little and you rationalize it. It crumbles a smidge on the corner, the one right near the west wall, and you lose a little mortar, but you bandage a comforting explanation over it and the weakness is covered up. Maybe a tower topples in and you reel a bit, but time heals all wounds and soon you don't even remember it was there. And so you worry your disintegrating little want along; wondering why it won't stand like you built it. Why there is no foundation even though you've tried to make one. And why, for heaven's sake why, won't everything stay put and one day be real? And it isn't until that day when the last brick gives way and you see the rubble and wreckage at your feet and are left scrambling for a reason for it all that the dust clears and you lay eyes on the last thing you ever expected.

God - with a sledgehammer in His hands.

When your eyes brim with tears and you sob with whatever it is you feel: anger, grief, hurt, loss, humiliation at the hands of the thing you put your faith in, gave your heart to, defined your dreams with, you can either sit in that rubble and try to rebuild it, or you can leave it behind and go the the man with the hammer and ask Him why He used it.

There's only one answer you need.

It's love.

Love tore down those walls and broke the towers. Love shifted the air beneath that tenuous, trembling floor and watched it collapse.

And love understands how much it hurts to stand in the rubble.

Because, sometimes, love hurts.

But a castle in the air is too dangerous a place for a God who loves to let you live - especially when the most frightening place He wants you to be is square in the palm of His hand.

So when you ask why your dreams don't come true and what's wrong with your plans and wouldn't this be grand? He smiles with the knowing that softens His eyes and gently cups your chin.

"There's something that I want," He says.

"Something that I want and it's better than that. I know you don't understand now, but the dreams you build aren't big enough, strong enough, or good enough for you. I created you for a reason so just wait and see what I've got in store. Remember that I made water into wine. Famine into feast. Sickness into health. Death into life. Don't be afraid to let Me build your dreams. After all, I'm a master of foundations."

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them..."

- Ephesians 2:10 -

'Til next time!

…Eucharisteo…

Friday and Saturday I attended the Set Apart women's conference in St. Paul, Minnesota with several friends.
One of the keynotes was a woman I used to go on and on about before other things phased out her message and it sort of joined the clutter in the back of my brain of the ghosts of things I'm saving to "think about later". The later that never seems to come.

At any rate, it was Ann Voskamp. {Here's the link to her website in case anything here makes you interested enough to visit}

She spoke of fear and trust and the key to complete rest in the hands of Christ. I'd read her book One Thousand Gifts and I knew the gist of what she was saying. Somewhere inside I knew them.  As Dom Cobb says in Inception {if I've got any fellow Inception-ers with me :)} "She had locked something away, something deep inside her. The truth that she'd always known but chose to forget". I don't know about anyone else, but I almost shivered {or maybe I did} when I heard it. I'm not a person who tries to find spiritual truths in secular movies, but that line is incredibly true in the aspects of how I, as a Christian, live my life. There are so many truths I've chosen to lock away because they mess with the reality and comfort I want to live in.

Of course, it's not always locking away, though. Sometimes it's just plain forgetting.

After reading One Thousand Gifts I was gung-ho on starting my gratitude journal and totting up my thousand gifts. I was sold out on the idea of eucharisteo and giddy with excitement those first few days as I walked through life, whispering thanks for every rock, tree and jolly bush.

And then the bloom wore off and slowly I forgot to jot down the thanks. My journal sat at my desk, lines blank or half-heartedly filled. Eventually I tore out the pages I had filled, bundled them up into the attic and forgot about them.

Counting gifts just "wasn't for me".

At least, not the way I was counting them.

As I sat in the auditorium on Friday and listened to Ann speak, I felt the familiar conviction that I had lost. Locked away. Chosen to forget.

I needed to start counting gifts again.

One thing she said stuck with me very clearly. Two things actually.

"You can't be thanking God and living in fear at the same time" & "Satan hates the use of a pen. He doesn't want you to pick up a pen and write down the words that respond to The Word" {Note: these are not exact quotes; I was writing like a mad thing and probably messed up a few words}. Writer that I am, I was especially intrigued by the fact that Satan hates the use of my pen and doesn't want me to pick it up and write. Especially writing thanks. He'll do anything to stop me. So writing down thanks is essentially an act of victory over the devil.

Well, I thought to myself, I'm always up for that.

Somewhere in the midst of those quotes I decided once and for all that I was going to use my pen to defeat the enemy.

The thought of another gratitude journal gathering dust on my desk was not attractive {to say the least}. Nor was the concept of scattering pads around the house - and looking for them every time I needed one because someone else in the house had walked off with it. I needed something tailored for me.

Being a rather non-conventional person, I settled on a eucharisteo {Greek: to be grateful, to feel thankful} box.

The idea behind it is solely suited to my tastes. I'm a writer, so I'm constantly jotting down bits and pieces of dialogue, description, observation or whatever it is that comes to my mind that I don't want to forget. I have a padfolio in my purse that I bought especially for writing down these passing thoughts. Do I use it? No. When an idea strikes, I grab for the nearest pen and scrap of paper. {The padfolio is now enlisted for sermon notes} I have post-its and index cards and little scraps of torn-off paper all over the place, scrawled over with the fleeting brainwaves I almost lost.

Thus the eucharisteo box.

When I have a love-gift to thank God for I can grab for the nearest bit of paper {I've planted pads of post-its and pens in convenient locations}, scribble out my thanks and toss it into the box.

This changes the face of the gratitude-journal-One-Thousand-Gifts thing, of course. I'm not keeping track of how many I have {I'm not competitive, so this is no great loss. When I had my gratitude journal it became more of a game than anything else} and I'm not being overly idealistic about it either. I know that it will take a while to become habit, so any slip that goes into the box right now is one thing I'm thanking God for that I probably wouldn't have a week ago. The mere incentive of tossing the paper into the box makes it all the more exciting. I'm a piggy bank kind of girl. I love putting things through slots and watching them fill up. :)



For those of you who use gratitude journals to record your gifts, I stand in awe. You are stronger women than I am.

For those of you who, like me, are finding the journal idea hard to work with, there's always a box!

Until next time {may you be blessed with more gifts than you have ink to record}!

Who Do You Write For?

It's a question I've been struggling with a lot lately. Who am I writing for? Why do I write? How do I write to the glory of God and not just to tell a good story with some Scripture thrown in?

Ever since I've started writing, I knew I'd be writing Christian fiction. However, just *deciding* that isn't sufficient. It's easy enough to have someone confess salvation and toss in a few words about God and a couple Bible verses and have your characters go to church. Writing a clean, decent story is good and honorable and there's nothing at all the matter with it.

It's just not what I want to do.

Writing is my passion. It's what I love to do. But if I don't use this passion for the utmost glory of God, then I might as well never write another word.

As you are probably aware of, I've always admired Francine Rivers. She's one of the two or three writers whom I most long to emulate. I would encourage anyone who loves to write and who longs to do it for the glory of God to read this interview with her here.

If you don't want to go through all the material, then here are the key questions and answers I want to bring up. {None of the italicized material belongs to me. It's all the work of Sonoma Christian Home}

Q&A 1

SCH – Can you explain the difference between a “Christian writer” and a Christian who writes?

FH - There are many fine and successful writers who are Christians.  They write whatever they want to write and sometimes weave in a Christian world view.  These writers are knowledgeable about the market, what sells and what doesn’t.  Faith and Christ are not overtly presented.  Christians write in every genre.A Christian writer keeps Christ at the very center of the story.  The sole reason for writing has to do with faith and Christ and what it means to live as a follower of Jesus.  I am a Christian writer.  Without Jesus, there is no story for me to tell.  He is at the center of every part of my work.

I decided long ago that I want to be a Christian writer. At least, that's what I tell myself I want to be. When I look under the surface of my holy ambitions, I find a lot of motives that I don't exactly like to face.

I find that deep, deep down, in the nitty-gritty of my soul, I don't want to write stories to glorify God or help others find the truth of Christ. It's too hard. It takes commitment, it takes passion for the Lord, it takes time in His presence, learning from Him. To put Jesus at the center of your writing means that it revolves around Him. And I, for one, find that incredibly difficult to do.

I have these plots, I have these characters, I have these ideas and words. I don't want them messed with or messed up, but that's what God asks me to do. I struggle with God because I want to write for Him, but I can't give up the need to control the story. I want to write for the praise I get from others. I want to write what I like. I want to do what I want.

I want to write for me.

I found this bit of the interview incredibly helpful in view of what I just said.

Q&A 2

SCH - What advice would you give a new writer?

FH - Commit your work to the Lord.  Write what you need to read.  Write from the passion of your heart and soul.  Write for an audience of One – Jesus. 

I have committed my work to the Lord. Over and over, in fact. I do write what I need to read. Through puzzling with my characters, God has shown me many truths of Scripture. I do write from the passion inside me. Even if someone told me I'd never be published, I'd still put down the words the jam-cram my brain. But the last point... Ouch. I do not write for an audience of One.

I do not write for Jesus.

When I sit down to write, I focus on what will bring praise from the group who reads the pages I churn {more or less} out. My passion is to use the most vivid descriptions, the most fitting words, the keenest, rawest emotions. That's my goal when I sit down. I never even think to ask God what will please Him or what He wants me to say.

Do I write for men?

Yes. Definitely yes.

And that hurts. To see my high aspirations, my promises to God, the goal I tell Him over and over that I strive for demolished by one confession hurts. But it also helps. Admitting the problem is the first step to overcoming it. God deserves better than what I find easy.

I know it's been gloom-and-doom so far, so I will veer away from that and offer some encouragement that God has given me as I've struggled with these questions.

1. James 1:5 - If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.

If you don't know how to put God in the center of your story {key struggle for me right there!}, if you don't think you know enough about the heart of God to even begin such a monumental task, if you have doubts at all about anything {writing related or not}, ask God for wisdom. He won't fault you for even the simplest questions. He won't say "I can't believe you don't understand that; it's so easy!". If you truly seek it, He will give you the wisdom you ask for.

2. This isn't going to happen overnight.

Let's face it. Most of us {don't know about any anonymous followers} are pretty young and just getting our feet wet in the whole writing thing. Most Christian authors who get published are much older than we are and much more mature in their faith. They've had years of seeking God, many more than we have. But starting now, at our age, in striving to glorify Him and to gain His wisdom and to do the very best we can will only be a blessing as we get older and wiser ourselves.

3. Don't give up.

I know that's pretty cliche. Everyone says that so much it's lost its wisdom. But truly: don't give up. There are highs and lows in everything and God doesn't get on you for the lows. There will be times when He doesn't seem to be anywhere in your story, let alone the center. There will be times {many of them, in my experience} when you wonder why you even bother. Mainstream Christian fiction sells - why not write it? There will be times when committing your work to God seems synonymous with never writing again. Satan is very, very much interested in keeping glory from God. When you put God at the center of anything, you're up against the powers and evil forces that Ephesians 6:12 talks about. Writing is no different. Thank God that He is faithful and a help in times of trouble! Run to Him when you feel overwhelmed, listen to His wisdom and let Him quiet your heart and put your frustrations and worries to rest.

And lastly

4. Use your writing as an extension of your worship of God.

It's a gift. Same as playing an instrument or having a voice for singing, a passion and ability to teach teach, serve, anything.
Writing is a gift.
God has given it to you, use it as a way to thank Him. Write to praise Him, to exalt Him, to lift His name up.
Words are powerful. Don't use them for anything less than His glory. 

Until next time,

Empty Me {Part 2)

{New url: elizabethradewahn.blogspot.com}

{Missed Part 1? Click here}

The greatest part of the simple truth God graciously hit me over the head with was that I need to be empty when I came before Him.

Before, I’d been caught up trying to mold the time into what I thought it should be, directing the minutes, struggling to understand, to find the wisdom on my own, all the while leaving God out, my mind overcrowded with three hundred ninety-eight other things I needed to do or wanted to learn and never realizing this very simple truth:

Only when we’re empty can we be filled.

Think about a cup.

If we bring it to the pitcher full, where is the new liquid going to go?

Likewise, when we come before God full of our own expectations and ideas of what we need to learn, what He needs to fill us with, what we think will prosper us best, there is no room for Him to pour His wisdom into our proud and domineering hearts.

Accordingly, if we bring a cup to the pitcher half-full, we will only come away with half of what we could have received.

God is so faithful and so loving! He will still pour Himself into our half-filled cups, but His wisdom will be diluted with our ideas and mingled with our expectations and we will receive, by our own faults, a watered down version of what we could have gotten.

But if we bring a cup empty, if we bring our hearts empty, with no demands, no clamoring, no proud, self-sufficient wisdom, admitting that we know absolutely nothing when compared with Him, then we will come away full to the brim with His purest wisdom. If we leave the space open and come to listen and be filled, He will not disappoint and our cups will overflow.

This is what He taught. To Martha, whose cup was overflowing with the things she felt needed to be done. To Mary, who chose the one thing that was needful. And to all of us, who struggle and long to know His heart.

God wants us to be empty when we come to Him. In humility, we must acknowledge that we, with our broken, battered, empty hearts, can bring nothing to measure up to to Him. We can contribute nothing. The foolishness of God is wiser than our wisdom, and the weakness of God is greater than our strength. {1 Corinthians 1:25 {slightly revised}} We must come to learn of Him, to have our empty, worldly, foolish wisdom overcome with His truth, because, as Peter put it, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” {John 6:68}

So come before the Lord with an empty heart and ask only for it to be filled. Don’t tell Him what you expect to hear; don’t outline His territory. You are the student, not the teacher, so let Him teach! He knows all things; trust that He will give you what you need when and only when you need it. Put aside your “wisdom” and your “agenda” and let Him show you the truths you’ve been missing. He is omniscient. What are you? Just let Him speak through His word. God doesn’t need you to try and figure it all out by yourself. He doesn’t need you to teach yourself. He knows it all backward and forward, so why avoid His wisdom? He doesn’t need you to explain it.

That’s His job.

All He asks is that we give Him the time to speak to our hearts. The time to fill us with all the knowledge and wisdom and grace that He longs to shower upon us. And you may not come away with an earth-shattering, mind-blowing truth every day. Don’t feel as if the time was worthless or less fulfilling because of that. Sometimes it’s just in the sitting and reading where you are encouraged, blessed and uplifted. God knows what you need to hear each day. Even if you think you needed something else, trust that what He gives you will be sufficient. 

He will tell you everything you need to know if you will sit and listen.

Empty and willing to hear.

And after you hear, willing to apply and obey.

'Til next time!

Empty Me {Part 1}

{New url: elizabethradewahn.blogspot.com. Please replace jamiesjottings.blogspot.com. Thanks!

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{from photobucket}

I know many of you are under the impression that I didn’t post much at all during November due to NaNoWriMo and the 50,000 words I committed to getting down on paper.

Actually, that’s not true at all.

Though Nano did play a very tiny role in my lack of postage, I had plenty of time to spare. The real reason why I didn’t post in November was because I was really, really struggling in my relationship with God.

My quiet times, to put it bluntly, were complete jokes.

I am not a morning person, so when the alarm goes off it’s not my friend. My conscience would niggle at me that I should get up for once and spend more than ten minutes with God, but I would end up juggling my Bible around my cereal bowl {again} and trying not to get the pages splattered with milk. Does it work? All I can say is: do not try this at home {or anywhere else, for that matter}.

I knew I was off on the wrong track, but I couldn’t seem to get back on the right one. I couldn’t muster the interest to get up for another session with my Bible where I would read the same things I’d already read over and over and over again and try to get something new out of the verses I had practically memorized. There was nothing there, I told myself. I just couldn’t find the wisdom I needed and the answers I longed for and the earth-shattering meanings that I felt surely everyone else was getting.

You see, I’ve always approached a quiet time from the absolute wrong direction.

I would come with expectations that every day I needed to find a new inspiration, a hidden meaning, a deep truth that I had never before realized existed between Genesis and Revelations. I struggled to find a meaningful way to study the Bible. I tried books and devotionals and reading through the entire sixty-six books in a year.

I simply couldn’t find the right way to study. I couldn’t find the best way to learn. I didn’t know how to dig for wisdom and knowledge and understanding.

Needless to say, after almost nineteen years of trying, I was beginning to feel that it was hopeless. I just wasn’t good at reading the Bible.

On Sunday, I was talking with a wonderful friend on the phone for two hours and during that time we both unburdened a lot of what had been on our minds. We discussed our frustrations and our problems and shared each other’s burdens. I told her about my struggle to find meaning in God’s word and how I no longer even felt like getting up to read it. She offered some advice and we prayed together and then hung up.

Here I will make a confession: I’m the kind of person who doesn’t stop worrying at a problem until I’ve either got the answer or something that will suffice as an answer for the time being. Consequently, I kept turning over and over in my mind what I had been doing with my quiet time and what wasn’t working. And suddenly God opened up my eyes and I received from Him a very simple truth.

Now bear with me here, because this is going to sound very, very “duh”. It’s one of those things about God that you struggle and struggle with and then finally the answer comes out a clear blue sky and you sit back and think “why have I never thought of this before?!”

I said to God “if I give You time in the morning, if I get up at a certain time and give You this certain amount of time, will You promise to show me the things I want to know?”

Right then, I saw for the first time what I had been missing in my quiet times for nineteen years {okay, it’s more like fourteen or fifteen. I couldn’t read until I was four or five}.

All these years I’ve been bringing my expectations to the table, telling God “okay, we’re going to try this and see if it opens up my eyes to the amazing things in Your Word”.

All these years I’ve been telling Him how the quiet time will be run, how much time we have, what needs to get done {ie, this much time to read these chapters, then I’ve got to review this chapter I memorized and then I’ve got to memorize a new verse from over here in this chapter} so that I will be sure to have a fulfilled, well-rounded time with Him.

 I obsessed over finding the meanings to verses and was always disappointed when they meant exactly what I thought they did and that I already knew what I had just discovered.

I’d get frustrated, saying “God! I’m giving you this time in the mornings, will You step up to the plate and give me the wisdom I need?”

I’ve been running my quiet times like a person who asks a really important question and then cuts off the reply before it starts.

I’ve strangled God’s voice by rushing to get everything I think will help me grow into my time allowance before I have to move on to other things. I wanted God’s wisdom, but I wasn’t willing to give Him the time to give it to me!

I’ve been like Martha. Too busy thinking about the chicken in the pot and the unswept floor, the problems of the world, the problems with me and the need for everything to be perfect instead of settling down at the feet of my Savior {who knows all things} and simply listening to Him tell me what I need to do.

I realized that it’s not about what I bring to the quiet time. I can bring nothing of value, nothing of wisdom, nothing that will contribute anything worthwhile except a heart ready to be taught. And God doesn’t want me to come prepared with all the answers. He doesn’t want me to come with an agenda. He doesn’t want me to come with anything but a willingness to learn. God wants me to just come as I am; lost and imperfect and very greatly in need of wisdom.

He wants me to come empty, humbly admitting that I know nothing, and ready to be filled.

To be continued…

'Til next time!

Modest as a...What?

A dress should be tight enough to show you're a 

woman and loose enough to prove you're a lady

~ Edith Head ~

I ran into this quote while reading an article about Kate Middleton's fashion choices in a waiting room magazine. (No, I am not a follower in any form of the royal couple. My interest generally extends no further than the headlines on the racks by the check-out lanes at the grocery store).

The quote caught my attention because it so aptly put something I've been committed to all my life.

Modesty.

What is it? 

From what I've heard, it comes to this: Modesty is a delicate power possessed by women to dress and to act in a manner that draws attention not to their bodies but to their personalities and to the things about them that really matter.

I know there are many different interpretations out there of how to gain this delicate power. Being homeschooled and raised in a conservative household with conservative viewpoints, I am definitely familiar with many varieties of modesty. 

Group #1: This is the if-you-dare-show-a-snitch-of-figure-you're-a-shameless-hussy brand of modesty. In this group, you swathe yourself in excess yards of fabric in the form of skirts, shirts and anything else you might happen to put on. Everything you own is long, high, and usually oversized. 

Group #2: This is the I'll-push-the-boundaries-and-be-semi-normal type. Generally speaking, this is the middle ground. They raise the eyebrows of the previous group and still somehow manage to get the odd looks from strangers on the street. Their wardrobes generally contain a mix of the modern fashions (which are worn when your plans call for a trip outside) and the more "modest" choices which are worn when certain friends (or fathers) are in the picture. 

Group #3: This is the group that doesn't really care anymore. They won't go all out but they're not really hiding it either. They give it a sort of half-way point and err on the side of the edgily modest. 

So what should we really strive for? In fact, why are we trying at all? 

When you think about it, it's a lot of effort to go through so that guys can protect their eyes. I've been known to say (in frustration) that guys could make a little more effort not to look, seeing as we're going through all the trouble of denying ourselves the things we'd really like to wear and we could sort of break even on a don't look/make an effort kind of basis.

But the truth is that modesty isn't just about guys or just about us at all. Though caring enough about them that we don't want to force them into total self-control mode is an excellent reason to cover up, the real point of modesty - and the reason we should keep our bodies to ourselves - is obedience to the call of the One who called us. 

When we look in the mirror with frustration because we're so tired of not being able to sport the latest fashions, instead of giving up and going on a shopping-binge, we need to remember whose image we are actually presenting (God's), who really asked us to value ourselves through modesty and what the meaning of that value is.

Value is a sense that God gives us (and which I, at least, consistently fail to utilize) that informs us that we don't need that skin-tight shirt that leaves only skin to the imagination to get the attention we want. Value is the sure confidence that we have so much more to offer than just an eyeful which enables us to wear the skirt that covers our knees even if it's not as cute. Value is the knowledge that, even though the jeans don't cut off your circulation and show what you've got, you don't need to show what you've got to receive the admiration of those around you. It's a question of value that we ought to ask when we try on that oh-so-cute top that just pushes it too far or the perfect jeans that are just a bit too tight or the adorable skirt that is just too short.

It's also the point that we are representatives of Christ and how we dress and act carries great weight with the way others view us and ultimately through us, Christ.

Yes, I know it's hard when people stare at you (or don't stare at you), and when everything in the store seems to be things you can't wear, and when you've tried on so many clothes your dressing room starts looking like a Hollywood costume storage unit only to find that the only cute things are the things out on the racks that you know you can't wear. 

Modesty is tough.

Value is tough.

Representing Christ is...really tough.

I will freely admit that I have (and still sometimes do) give up and decide it's easier to rub out the line than to make it stronger. There are things in my closet that I still wear that I know push the boundaries. Because my value of myself slips too - and it's hard to stand firm the when the girls around you who are getting the attention are the ones who aren't like you.

Sometimes, it just doesn't seem worth it.

Sometimes, it seems that if you keep going on with this cover-it-all-up-and-don't-show-it-off rule, you're going to end up an old maid, knitting voluminous sweaters to drape yourself in. 

Sometimes, it seems that screaming "does anyone really care what I wear?!" and then going around with polling sheets would be easier than silently hoping that someone appreciates your modesty and is just too shy to tell you. 

In fact, I've often wondered, in a world where the guys go after the girl who shows the most, why value is even important. 

Value, I sometimes feel, is what will land me in the spinster circle at twenty-six.

So why do I try? Why do I make an effort to keep up this ever-unpopular trend? Why do I grasp what, at times, seems to be an old-fashioned pretense?  

Aside from the fact that my father keeps an eye on me, it's because (and I feel weird saying this after talking about how a sense of value and obedience to God and care for how we treat His image should be the reason why we dress with care) I still believe that there are guys out there who will value us because we value ourselves (albiet uncommunicative guys who either don't get the message or are too shy to tell us that they appreciate our efforts - haha). But when I get my act together, it's also because I feel awkward when I know that I'm making myself a trap for guys to keep their eyes away from and I don't feel comfortable wearing something that I constantly have to pull up, pull down, adjust or watch like a hawk.

I struggle for modesty because I know that it's what God asks me to do. He asks me to guard my body and save it for the one man who will value it as much as I should. He asks me not to make it hard on young men by giving up. He asks me to do it out of obedience because He has plans for me that I don't know about.  

It's a struggle, I know, but it is always a struggle worth keeping up. 

Now I'm not saying that we need to wrap ourselves in sheets and present to the world a completely blurred image of ourselves. 

Nay, not at all.

We can dress attractively and still be modest. The point is to draw a line and have the obedience not to cross it. 

Long ago, I left Group #1 in the pursuit of something different. A sort of Group #2 without the drawbacks. 

It's certainly been interesting and I must admit that I've redrawn a lot of lines.

If I could rate my closet, I'd say I'm a solid Group 2 with slight Group 3 tendencies. I still love my twirly, floor-length denim skirts, but I'm also comfortable in loose jeans. I hate dressing up because that's where the Group 3 tendencies come to play. Dressy stuff is...not my style and it's always hard to keep those convictions when the stuff is designed to flatter - not cover.

What's your closet like? I don't know. But I do know this:

When you look at what you wear, does it say you value yourself and you're waiting for someone who will value it too? Does it say "God, I trust that you know what you're doing when you ask me to dress like this"? Or does it say, "forget it, folks; I'm tired of waiting".

When you try on that toe-the-line top that looks so good what is the first though that pops into your head? It's the reason you want it.

What it all boils down to is this:

There is clothing out there that is attractive and modest (I know it can be hard to find, but it's not impossible for a determined woman) and there are lines between what you should wear and what you know you shouldn't. 

It's a question of value.

A question of trust.

An act of obedience.
A sense of who we represent and how delicate that image can be.
And how easy it is to destroy. 

What will you wear?

Apathy

This is something I wrote a while ago amid some spiritual frustration. Thought I'd share it with you guys.

To God:

Hi, it's me.

I need to talk to you. 

We've been pulling apart and it's all my fault. I'm always too busy or too tired or just too lazy. I'm sick of myself. So much trivial matter clogs up my brain, monopolizing my thoughts and pulling them away from you.  And I sit there and say that soon this'll be over and that'll be over and I'll have more time for you, but the truth is that nothing will get less busy, nothing will give me more time. I don't spend time with you because I don't want to. It's horrid, but the plain truth. 
I get bored while I pray - they're always the same. I don't feel like expending the energy it takes to read the right books because I don't want to force myself to reevaluate what's important to me. Perhaps too important. I forget to memorize and, frankly, it's become harder because I've lost the zeal to review and actually learn the verses. 
How did I get here? Why do I choose to stay?
I long for a closer walk with you, but here, in the most important aspect of my life, I choose to stay where I am. 
Why, Lord? Why do I give you such apathy?  

Till next time,

What's A Girl To Do?

It seems when I have a blog topic that I know I should post about but don't want to because it's either too long, will take too much time to think out/type up or is to unresolved on my end, I tend to put it off and blog nothing, nothing, nothing, until it drives me so crazy that I just end up doing it.

Hence this post.

I've been struggling with personal appearance on and off lately. It seems like nothing in my closet flatters, nothing I put on my skin/do in my hair works out, and yeah, the morning exercise routine has been pushed off by the sleep schedule again.

This happens several times a year. I'll become obsessed with clothing, hairstyles, jewelry, shoes, and all the little things that make up what I look like each day.

I get tired of my clothes so I go on a shopping spree and get more things that will soon end up either in the back of my closet or the donation box.

I decide that the reason my clothes don't look good on me is because I need to get in shape and look more like the girls you see in clothing magazines. (Heaven help me, but that's an impossible dream right there)

I decide that my hair needs help, so I spend a lot of time trying new styles, studying people's hairstyles and digging through my drawers for those old doodads I've collected over the years.

I decide that my teeth need to be whiter, so I start stepping up my flossing and brushing and even start using mouthwash. (Though I...don't think it's working)

I decide that my skin needs to be softer, so I experiment with lotions and face-washing routines.

and...

I get frustrated that I can't wear makeup, because I know it'll help me look better in pictures and cover up those annoying blemishes that pop out at me every time I look in the mirror.

I get frustrated that, no matter how many outfits I buy, I never look in them how I imagined I would.

I get frustrated that, though I take care of it, my skin still breaks out and doesn't stay smooth and soft.

I get frustrated that, even though I've started exercising again (even running, good grief), my clothes still fit pretty much how they did before - or look worse.

I get frustrated that my smile doesn't look any better.

I get frustrated that my mouth is too small and my frame is too big. That my hair is hopeless and impossible to style.

And I get jealous of the girls who have everything I want.

I tell God it's not fair. He didn't have to make me this way. I tell him that no one will ever look at me twice and thus I'll end up an old maid, thanks a lot.
But it seems that the more I try to perfect myself, the less time I spend with Him and the less time I spend with Him, the more discontent and imperfect I become.

I've been through this a thousand times; you'd think I'd learn.

It's not about makeup, or clothing, or hairstyles, or getting in shape. It's not about any of that.

Your beauty should not come from outward adornment, such as braided hair or the wearing of gold jewelry and fine clothes. Rather, it should be that of your inner self, the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God's sight. - 1 Peter 3:3-4

And I know its a time-worn verse. I've heard it over, and over, and over. Same with this one:

Charm is deceptive, and beauty is fleeting; but a woman who fears the Lord is to be praised. - Proverbs 31:30

I went to a mother/daughter conference a long time ago where one of the speakers was a young lady who personified those verses. She wasn't what the world would call 'perfect'. She was tall and big and had frizzy blond hair. She wasn't the kind of girl who would ever be on the cover of any department store magazine, but when you looked at her, that stuff didn't seem important.
She was vibrant, friendly, funny and in love with God. I hardly even noticed through my worldly glasses how 'imperfect' she was.

So the next time I find myself spending more time staring into the bathroom mirror than I do looking into the mirror of Scripture, I hope to remember what a dangerous pastime that is. Because charm is deceptive and beauty is fleeting, but a gentle and quiet spirit, grounded in and adoring of God is what will really be noticed and remembered by anyone God brings into your life.

'Till next time!

What's the Point?

Ever since I was thirteen (and before then, just not noticeable by output :P), writing has been in my blood. I've tried *not* writing and I just can't do it. It's part of me. But what, I've often wondered, is the point of writing?

The questions that have been bothering me for years and years of novel-ing are these:

Why am I writing?

Who am I writing for?

and what am I writing for?

The first one is easy to answer: I write because I have to. I can't not write. So there. But the other two questions are much harder to answer.

The who and the what.

I always tell myself "well, yeah. I'm writing for God!" But writing for God entails so much more than just occasionally slipping in a conversion or a dull, washed-out, overused repetition of what thousands of other Christian authors write. Someone always has the answers, someone always gets saved, Christian characters turn the conversations to Christ whether it fits or not.

But that's not reality.

Many times we don't have the answers and we chicken out and avoid telling others about God and the sinner doesn't always get saved.

But taking that sort of realistic approach is not going to cut it either. There's a fine line between perfection, reality and chickening out yourself.

Because it's hard to steep your writing in Christianity without coming off as very Christian and annoyingly preachy or less Christian and limply cliche. I've read both and I can honestly say that neither one is the way to go.

So what is a writer to do?

One of my (many :D) writing heroes is Francine Rivers. I have never read a book by another Christian author that rivets and challenges me like hers do. When I finish reading her books, I don't put it away and say "what a good book!". Heavens no. I put it down and I want to change.

And it occurred to me last night why her books are so powerful.

For me, I focus on telling a "good story" (making sure that my dialogue isn't boring and that my characters are realistic and that my drama isn't over the top {something my dear editor is an enormous help with!}). In fact, I focus so much on that that I lose sight of the real reason I'm even writing at all.

The way to write is not to tell a "good story", but THE story. When I take my eyes off of the fact that Jesus Christ is the center of the story and forget that challenging faith is why I should even be putting pen to paper in the first place, I lose the entire reason for writing anything at all.

I let myself get so caught up in creating the story that I forget who I'm creating the story for. Jesus gets tossed in and yanked out and shuffled around until I have to remind myself "this is supposed to be Christian fiction, my dear; so quick toss something about God in". Haha, I'm sure God appreciates that.

Christian fiction should not be a fluffy romance where the book is considered "Christian" because some cliche Bible passages are tossed in, someone gets saved, there are a few prayers and church services and the characters live upright lives and abstain from an intimate relationship until they're married.

That's what I find so sad about today's Christian fiction market. So many authors who could write powerfully have settled for books that don't challenge or preach but instead spin out a silly, worn-out romance with brainless characters who fill their pages with pathetic attempts at real drama and real life so that we can settle down with something "clean" and "mindless".

And that is exactly why I'm worried about these questions.

Because I don't want my writing to turn into something like that. If the purpose of writing Christian fiction is to allow someone a few hours of fluffy enjoyment, then I don't want to write it. I want my writing to glorify God, to challenge and engross the reader and to give them a new perspective on things they might not have given much thought to before. I don't want my books to be read once and then tossed into the Goodwill box for resale. But in order to write books that challenge and engross and give glory to the One who gave me this desire means that I must put Him before my writing and steep myself in Him first.

And that's another struggle. I get impatient and it's hard to focus on God with all the distractions of life. But, when I get down to the nitty-gritty, what is life really about?

God gave us life and it's really unfair of us to say that we want to live it our way.

So this is my resolve: to write for HIS glory and not for anything else. And if it falls sub-par, then it is sub-par and not worth anyone's time. If I don't write for God, then I won't write for anyone else.

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men - Colossians 3:23

'Till next time,

I'm Letting Go

I don't want to write this post. I don't want to write it. But I have to, for reasons of blog-longevity and for my own personal reasons which aren't very interesting or easy to explain.

So lately I've been struggling with what I feel I should do with the rest of my life and what God wants me to do and how they both coincide and so on and so forth. It became an enormous point of anxiety to me for several days and still now gives me a vaguely sick feeling in my stomach when I wake up in the morning.

What does God want me to do?

I knew what I wanted to do.

With two job options open to me, I knew the truth. One was "safe", the other was..."scary" (well, not really, but the devil tends to take your smallest fears and blow them completely out of proportion until they consume you).

Obviously, I wanted the one that was "safe".

I got the "safe" one, but my mom still wanted me to try for the "scary" one.

So I started filling out applications and fear and doubt quickly consumed me. I was scared stiff with irrational fears that would look incredibly silly if I put them down on paper. Incredibly silly.

I struggled with the idea that God wasn't going to bless my decision to take the job I did, because I figured that since fear was holding me back from diving into the "scary" one, He would be disgusted with me. For a day I rationalized and planned and flipped and flopped back and forth until I wanted to bury my head into the couch and scream out my frustration.

A few days later I was sitting on the said couch, writing and listening to an assortment of my favorite Christian songs. Francesca Battistelli's song I'm Letting Go came up and I reached out to skip it. I didn't want to hear about how I should let go of the plans I made for me and let God take control of my life. I was scared of what would happen if he did. So, I started to skip it.

And then a thought stopped me.

If God knows the plans He has for you, and they're going to prosper you, give you hope and a future, then won't letting Him take control make you the happiest?

God isn't going to toss me into something I'm completely unprepared for. He wants to prosper me. He wants to give me joy, hope, peace - everything! So why am I afraid to trust in His plan and let go of mine?

I prayed right then - one of the hardest prayers I've ever prayed in my life - and told Him that I was letting go. And when I told Him that, the peace that flooded my mind was so overwhelming.

And I realized that God wasn't quibbling over what job I chose, only the fact that I was refusing to let Him in on the plan.

It just threw me how long I struggled and worried when the answer was so simple. God wants us to be happy. It's part of His plan. We're only unhappy when we don't allow Him to be in control.

There are no 'ifs' in God's kingdom; and no places that are safer than other places. The center of His will is our only safety. - Casper Ten Boom - The Hiding Place

'Till next time,

Prayer Princess

Lately I've been struggling a lot with the topic of prayer. Partly because I'm memorizing Matthew 6 and partly because it's never really been something I understood.

You see, I'm a horrid prayer warrior.

Horrid.

If my friends want me to come to their defense with saber drawn (despite that fact that I don't have a saber nor any idea how to use one) I would enthusiastically chop away at the enemy.

If they wanted to spill their problems into my discreet and sympathetic (though my sympathy usually depends on the sincerity of the person) ear, I would be ready with advice, Scripture and comforting words.

Or even if they wanted me to come over and help them clean their furnace, I would seriously consider going over.

But when they simply ask for prayer, it comes like heavy weight.

When I say I'll pray for them, it actually means that I will. But I don't go at it with any sort of spiritual enthusiasm. (Sorry if I'm shocking you dear ladies who have asked me for prayer in the past; I really did pray for you!) I mutter quick requests whenever the matter pops to mind and then promptly forget to pray, really pray, for them.

I try to mean my prayers. I try to make them sound good. And sincere. And holy. But inside, I know it's all just a show. I'm just racing through them and giving more thought to the words that are coming out of my mouth than the actual person (or people, as the case may be) behind them.

It's a miserable fault. Especially since prayer is our closest connection to God and the answer to most of our problems. Jesus died for the joy of communion with us, yet I grudge the minutes that I must spend with Him every day, praying for people who are sick, or unsaved, or just in need of help and wisdom.

I'm always watching the clock and rushing and thinking of the things I need to do when I'm finished that I fail to realize that what I'm doing at that very moment is the most important thing in the world.

The prayer of a righteous man, as James put it, is powerful and effective. (James 5:16b) And since we are made righteous through salvation, our prayers are powerful and effective.

So why do I always feel as if prayer is the last resort? The weapon that can be used when everything else has failed? My attitude about prayer is like a soldier who has lost every weapon but his tiny dagger and, without any other hope, starts cutting away at the enemy with the weakest of his weapons.

I guess I forget that there are many ways to use a dagger and that often they're hidden from view and lethal when pulled out.

God promises that my prayers have effect, but still I chafe at the chore of going through my list and praying for the same people and the same problems every day. I figure that God knows these things and is as apathetic about them as I am.

But here are some things I've learned about prayer:
- It's powerful and effective (James 5:16b)
- They must be offered in faith (James 5:15)
- They are to be done in secret (Matthew 6:6)
- They are to be simple (don't babble like pagans :D) - (Matthew 6:7)
- God knows what you need before you ask Him, but that does not mean that you don't need to ask! - (Matthew 6:8)
- The Holy Spirit intercedes for us when we don't know what to pray for (Romans 8:26)
- We are to pray continually - (1 Thessalonians 5:17)
- We are to pray about everything - (Philippians 4:6)

It's a daunting list and it looks pretty powerful and it's what God's been challenging me to change in my life, lately.

But I hear so many conflicting issues, and there are so many people that need prayer and I get so frustrated because it seems as if I could pray all day and still not cover everything.

If God can find pleasure in listening to me pray - and in sitting with me while I pray - then why do I find only frustration in what I think of as a task?

I don't actually have an answer to my question (other than pat ones that would end this post on a cliche note), but here are a few things I've learned that I need to utilize when I pray.

1. Praise: Giving thanks to God for the gifts He's given, the prayers He's answered, the blessings He showers me with every day...
2. Confession: In the midst of prayer I constantly forget to confess my sins and ask for forgiveness. I usually figure that I'm already forgiven, so praying for others is more important. But God wants to hear humble, heartfelt confessions.
3. Keeping things simple: Don't go on and on about a single request. A short, simple, and most importantly heartfelt request is as powerful as a long eulogy.
4. Trust: Believe, really believe, that God wants to hear you and pray to Him keeping that in mind. If you get in the rut of thinking that God is disinterested, then you will soon become disinterested too.
5. Focus: the quiet thing is really important. If you can't keep your mind on your prayer because of distractions, it's not going to be much of a prayer. Find a quiet place and if your mind wanders (like mine always does) catch yourself, regain your focus and go on. Do not use the distractions as an excuse to give up and say "it's just not working today!". Remember that Satan sends distractions because he doesn't want you to pray. He knows, at least, how powerful it is.
6. Keep a list: write down who and what you want to pray for and specifics if you want to remember them, but don't allow yourself to drone away on the list without utilizing your mind. Lists can be dangerous that way.
7. Commit: your prayer time to God and ask Him to help keep you focused and to really think and care about who you're praying for. He's willing to help if you ask and really mean it.

It's difficult, I know (believe me, I know) to fit prayer time into busy schedules, but remember that it's also communion with God and though it seems like a drag at times, your prayers are always powerful and effective.
Prayer is the key to a strong relationship with your Prince, and that relationship is the most important thing in the world. More important than any of the other things you rush through your prayer to get to. Take the time to slow down and rest in your Heavenly Father's arms.

Just talk to Him, because it's the key to everything good.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up - Galatians 6:9

'Till next time!

God, I screwed up. Again.

I feel as if my blog hasn't been worth reading lately. I try to write about inspirational things which people will feel after reading that reading it was worth their time, but sometimes it's so hard to put just what you want to say into words and hope that it comes across as relevant and true to the people who read it. I hope I've been able to do at least some of that amidst all the other messes I throw at you poor people. :)

I have so many things I could talk about right now, it's hard to choose a topic and stick with it.

One thing that I've been thinking about lately - and my family has been discussing in our morning Bible studies - is the story of Rahab and the Israelite spies.

You know the part where Rahab lies to the soldiers of Jericho and tells them that the spies left the city before the gates were closed?

Well, my little sister asked how God could have used that lie to save the spies when lying is a sin.

That brought up the point of how we sometimes sin and God still uses that sin to implement His plan for our lives. Only, if we hadn't sinned, the implementation of how He could have worked in our lives to the same end would have been so much greater!

To face the truth: sometimes we just don't trust God enough to let Him work powerfully in our lives.

If Rahab hadn't lied to those soldiers, God could still have saved those spies - and the story would probably have been much different, most likely with more action and a few miracles.

I'm not saying that the story of Rahab and the spies is boring (and anyway, Rahab didn't believe in God, so lying probably presented itself to her as the most natural way out of a possibly lethal situation), but just think of how much more spectacular it could have been if Rahab hadn't sinned.

Looking back over my life, I can see many situations that probably could have turned out differently if I hadn't let fear overcome me or I hadn't gone for the easy way out and ignored God's voice prompting me to do something I knew I should.

The point is, though, that God can still use our stumblings for His own ends. If God has an ultimate plan for someone, even our failing to do what we know we should can be re-routed and used for His glory.

That's what's so amazing about His grace. There are second chances, third chances, fourth chances, ect.

God's ultimate plan will always be served, no matter what rabbit trails we sinners take off on.

For example...

- What would have happened if Barak hadn't gotten weak knees and begged Deborah to come along with Him in battle? (We wouldn't have the awesome story of Jael, but who knows what else might have occured?)

- What would have happened if Jehoash had struck the ground with those arrows more than three times? (He would have completely destroyed Aram. And think of how the course of history might have changed with the removal of those pesky Aram-eans!)

- What would have happened if David hadn't sinned with Bathsheba and killed Uriah off in a handy battle? Where would Solomon have come from?

-What would have happened Rehoboam had listened to the wiser elders instead of his group of friends? (First off, Judah and Israel probably wouldn't have split up...)

And, on the other hand...

What would have happened if Esther had gotten a panic attack and told God "I can't go to the king"?

What would have happened if Joseph had hardened his heart and refused to accept his situation as God-given?

What would have happened if David had told Samuel "Don't pour your oil on me; I don't want to be king."?

Or if he had told Goliath "You're right. I am a dog. Get me off this field in one piece!"?

And Ruth. What if she had told Naomi "Are you joking? I'm not sleeping by anyone's dirty feet!"?

And finally, what would have happened if Mary had told Gabriel "No way. I'm a virgin and I'm going to remain so until I'm married."?

(There are hundreds more, but in the words of whoever wrote Hebrews: "And what more shall I say? I do not have time to tell about about Gideon, Barak, Samson, Jepthah, David, Samuel and the prophets...")

Anyway, the point is:

What would have happened if all these people of great faith had chickened out when the chips were down and refused to trust God?

No doubt God would have figured out another way to get things done, but then we would most likely not have those great stories of faith that teach us so much about courage and trust.

But we put those people on a pedestal and say "oh, how brave they were!" - and they were. But what we often forget is that the same God who helped them is there to help us. And He hasn't lost strength over the years. He is still the same God who helped Esther and Joseph and David and Mary and everyone else who did anything worth recording in the Bible.

He still is God.

And despite our bumblings and stumblings and upsets and mistakes, He still works His perfect will through us. Transforming our lives from ashes and rubble into the stuff of legends.

So when you read about the heroes of the faith and feel discouraged (as I often do) because you never, ever could be as courageous as they were, remember that they too, were simple, ordinary people, whom God chose to use in a complex, un-ordinary way. And also remember that God longs to use us all in this way if we don't shrink back and say "God, you're asking too much! This is too hard for someone small like me! I don't have that great of faith or enough courage to do this!"

Do you think any of those heroes - alone - did either?

I would say no. Most definitely not.


In the words of Paul: "For it is God who works in you to will and to act according to His good purpose." (Philippians 2:13; emphasis added)

And just before that: "Continue to work our your salvation with fear and trembling..." (Philippians 2:12b; emphasis added)

God knows we're weak - and the amazing thing is, He doesn't want us to be strong by ourselves. "I can do everything through Him who gives me strength." (Philippians 4:13; emphasis added)

On our own, we can only make a mess. With our pride, our desire to show off, and our wrong motives, we make mud pies out of God's perfect plan.

And it is only when we are afraid to do something and know that we cannot - under any circumstances - do it by ourselves, that we truly find His strength. Only then we can move mountains and tell them to go throw themselves into the sea.

We have to remove ourselves from the equation and say, "Ok, God. Use me." And then trust that He will.

After all, if He did it for every other hero in the Bible, why on earth would He not do it for you?

Don't be afraid of messing up God's plan. If you do make a mistake, He can work around it. But don't use that as an excuse to get out of things. Challenge yourself to trust God to work through you and see what miracles He can do!

May the God of peace be with you.

'Till next time,

Love Like That

I've been thinking about posting this for a while, but haven't had the time or the words to do it. Now I'm free and I might as well give a stab at getting it down in a semi-readable, semi-understandable way. 

We'll see...

To begin, a little background : 

It's no secret, I guess, that for almost eighteen years, I've been wondering how on earth all my friends have been able to say "Oh, I'm SO in love with God!". And they are. I can see it. But for me, it's always been a struggle. 

I've been a Christian since I could understand what being a Christian was about. I've taught Bible clubs and Sunday School and VBS. I've mentored friends and sisters. I've done countless Bible studies and devotions. I've read books and pored over my Bible. I've been memorizing Scripture since I could read it. And I've prayed again and again for God to open up my eyes to His love - and nothing ever happened. I began to feel like this was it. There wasn't ever going to be that exhilarating knowledge of God's love for me. It was always just going to be an endless drone of "Jesus died on the cross to take away our sins because He loved us so much." 

I'd heard that so many times it lost its meaning. 

I was starting to lose hope when journal after journal was blotted with frustrated rants at God because He wasn't showing me the real meaning behind His death and how I couldn't grasp the meaning of the verses that said that "God's love is unfailing" and "For God so loved the world" and so on and so forth. I felt trapped when year after year passed and I still seemed stuck at the same bland plateau that I had always been on - inches away from grasping the true meaning of my faith and yet still falling short of feeling God's love wrap around me. 

I started giving up because I figured that maybe this was reality and no one really "fell in love with God" and they were just pretending to look like good little Christians. I wrote a letter to a friend once and said that I had realized that this was how it was going to be for me. I wouldn't ever have that heady experience of God's love; instead I would have just a steady knowledge of the love that Scripture assured me was there. 

But as that sank in, I realized that it wasn't enough. If other people had this exhilaration, I wanted it to. But I couldn't figure out how to grasp it and hold it. There were moments, yes, when I knew without a doubt that God loved me and my heart would jump and I would laugh with pure joy. But those moments were few and far between and they didn't satisfy the hunger I felt to know God and fall securely in His unfailing love.  

So I kept stumbling and praying and crying out to God that it wasn't fair and that I didn't understand and that I needed His help. 

But, as usual, nothing came. 

I grasped at solutions that didn't work, I tried this and that and the next thing, I delved into every single idea I could think of that would force me to open up my eyes to God's love and none of them worked. I was right back where I started. 

Frustrated, discouraged, and helpless. 

And then I started a course of joy. Through the writing of Ann Voskamp, in her book One Thousand Gifts (which I have referred to many times lately :D), I began to realize that thankfulness was the only way to fully realize God's love because that is how He shows His love to us anyway. Through the gifts He pours out on us every day. 

I started (ok, I attempted to start - it's really difficult to change old habits and start thanking God for everything!) the list of one thousand gifts and that didn't go to well (I'm still going at it, but one thousand is a looong way off  :-/ ) but another thing that did go better was that I started reading the Bible in a different way. 

Instead of just reading to read, I started paying attention to what I was reading and made more of an attempt to understand the meaning of what I was reading. I was amazed at what I found.

One verse especially hit me. 

Psalm 50:23 - He who sacrifices thank offerings honors me, and he prepares the way so that I may show him the salvation of God.

It was exactly what I wanted. To be shown the salvation of God. To know and fully realize why He died on that cross besides the Sunday School pat answer "to save us from our sins". 

I wanted to know why He cared that we were saved, why He went through the suffering and rose from the dead, why it made any difference to Him that we went to heaven instead of hell. I had a hundred whys and no answers. So I figured that I would prepare the way for God to show me the meaning of His salvation. 

I sacrificed thank offerings in the form of prayer and praise. And I know that makes me sound really holy and all that, but, to be honest, I still forgot to thank Him over and over. 

Praise God for His forgiving spirit...

The answer came with swiftness that knocked me off my spiritual feet. 

He showed it to me in Hebrews 12.

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. (Hebrews 12:2)

I had read and heard this verse a million times (exaggeration added) and I had never seen the answer to my questions buried inside it. 

Who for the joy set before Him endured the cross...

It all sort of dawned on me in an instant. One of those flashes when suddenly you realize how stupid you've been. Or, as my friend says, "a real "duh" moment".

Jesus died so that we could be forgiven, yes. But there was another reason. A much bigger reason. 

The joy. 

The joy set before Him. What He was looking forward to. 

And that was the sin barrier crashing down so that He could enjoy real communion with us. So that we could draw near to Him without our sin getting in the way and spoiling the sweetness of the relationship He longs to have with us. 

And when I realized that, I realized the worth I have to God. I'm not just one of the millions whose sins were forgiven by His blood. I'm a personal reason for His death. For the joy of communion with me, He suffered and died. 

And that's a humbling and honoring thought at the same time. 

And it makes all the difference in my view of God. 

That He died for the joy of a relationship with me. That that was the joy set before Him that He died to gain. 

Just thinking about it makes me feel so incredibly small and yet so incredibly awed. 

The King of Heaven died for the joy of drawing me near to Him. 

Where else can you find love like that?

'Till next time,