Life On the Water

Follow Me.

It is the greatest command we can receive. It is the most beautiful journey, the most awesome adventure, the most rewarding pursuit. It is also the most terrifying.

Have you ever thought about where God might call you in your life? Sure, you have your future all planned out in your mind. You might even think that God is the One who designed those dreams and gave them to you. And He probably did.

But what if He said, "Alright, Beloved. Those beautiful dreams that I gave you; the incredible plans; the amazing future that you've pictured for so long now; I want you to give them up. And I don't just mean giving Me permission to take them away; I mean I'm taking them away, right here, right now, and I'm changing the entire course of your life."

What if He did that?

As soon as we make the commitment to follow Christ, we must be willing to say with Peter, "Lord, if it's You, tell me to come to You on the water."

And instead of saying, "Nah, it's okay. I think you should keep your boring, mediocre, just-okay life. I'll be to your boat in just a second," more often than not, He will stretch out His hand and say, "Come."

At that moment, we learn the incredible amount of faith that is required to keep our mind off the waves and keep us living on top of the water. At that moment, we realize how essential it is to keep our eyes on Jesus and off of the wind. At that moment, we truly begin to live.

If we would truly experience Christ as He was meant to be experienced, we must step out on the water. It requires an immense amount of trust. It requires that we say, "Lord, I'm kinda helpless right now. I can't swim, and if I go under, You're the only One who can pull me out. So here I am. My life is completely in Your hands." The experience is at once terrifying and exhilarating.

So look around. What is it that's keeping you from stepping out on the water? Can you believe that your Jesus loves you so much that He will never let you slip under the surface? When we lose faith, when we take our eyes off Him and fall, He doesn't stand there, shake His head, and let us flounder for a while so that we get the picture. No, it says, "Immediately, Jesus reached out His hand and caught him." Your Savior is waiting right there to catch you. He knows the plans He has for you. He's holding your hand. He's waiting with joyous anticipation for you to discover the future He has for you.

He wants you to know the rush of stepping out in faith and walking on the water because of it. And if you step out, He will never, ever let you fall.

Overflow 101

Allow me to tell you a little something about overflow.

You have to be full before you can overflow.

In fact, you have to be full to, well, overflowing.

Makes sense, huh?

I know so many people -- including myself -- who want to be "a blessing." And I love that. I think it's wonderful. It's beautiful, and it's Christlike. But please hear this:

You cannot be a blessing if you are not full to overflowing with Jesus Christ.

So often, we try to give and give and give of our own strength. And very soon, we're exhausted. We have nothing left to give, and now we're neither a blessing, nor happy. We're just done.

But if we take all of that love that we try to give to other people, and give it to God instead -- He fills. And fills. And fills. And keeps filling, until we spill over continually.

That's when we become blessings. Our storehouses cannot be emptied, not in a thousand years. Our hearts cannot cease to spill over with the love of Christ, for His love never ends. For example, I do not sit in front of my computer and think, "What would be something inspiring to post as my status?" On the contrary, Jesus Christ astounds me and inspires me, and my natural response is to praise His greatness. I'm not inspirational. My Lord is.

Many people say, "You have to take care of yourself before you can take care of other people." And to a certain extent, I accept that. You have to be bubbling over with Jesus-love before you can give lasting, meaningful Jesus-love to other people. But once you're overflowing, then I say never look at yourself again. You can be so satisfied in Jesus Christ that you won't need to look at yourself.

But if all of a sudden you realize that you've taken your eyes off Jesus and have started trying to give from your own resources, take a step back and refocus your gaze. Don't try to give your own love; Jesus is the only one worthy of every ounce of all you have to offer.

Dear You

So, I've gotten several responses regarding the fact that I write my future husband letters. And I've had at least six people ask me how in the world you start. So, although this is not the "first letter" I've written to my husband, it is a "first letter" that somehow didn't make it into my happy notebook of wonder and love. This one is not going to my husband, so I thought I'd post it here for all of you to see an example. Obviously this is not the only way it can be done, so don't feel inclined to copy me!!

Dear You,

So, hi. I'm your wife. Nice to meet you.

I'm quite in love with you. Do you know that? Let me tell you a bit about what you are. You're head-over-heels in love with Jesus Christ. You care for other people more than you care for yourself. You're going to be a great daddy. You respect me. You like my family. My family likes you. You're my very bestest friend, next to Jesus. And I have a whole list of things you are down in a box in my room. I take it out every once in a while and remind myself that you are a person very worth waiting for.

So who are you? Do I know your name already? Are you on the other side of the world, or are you right across town? Have we walked the same halls, or have our feet never touched the same ground?

I don't know. But I will one day. I am so very excited for that day.

Now let me tell you a bit about who I am right now.

I'm seventeen years old. I'm crazy in love with Jesus Christ. You see, the thing is, I'm in love with you, but you're not the center of my life. As wonderful as you are, I know you'll mess up. I'm quite aware of that. So I have decided not to make you the foundation of my happiness. My eternal, perfect Prince is the one who determines my happiness. I hope that takes lots and lots of pressure off of you. And I hope it also leads you to find total fulfillment in Christ, so that you can take the pressure off of me -- believe me, I know I will mess up!

I've made a commitment to you, and to God. I've promised my Creator and the Author of our love story that this story will only exist if it will bring Him more glory -- if we can work for His Kingdom better hand-in-hand than on our own. And I've promised you that I'm waiting, no matter how long, no matter how hard, until Jesus gives you my entire heart. These promises have not always been easy to keep. But thanks to a God who makes all things new, He's taken my mistakes and made them into some of my most beautiful lessons. And through it all, He's held my heart.

And that's really what this letter is all about -- the God who's held my heart. He's the One who's brought us this far, and He's the only One who will be able to keep us together and continue to script a beautiful love story long after "I do." He's the only One who makes it possible for me to offer you the untainted gift of my heart, despite all my mistakes. He's the only One -- well, He's just the only One, isn't He?

So tonight, I pray that you're learning to surrender your heart completely to the God who loves you better than I do. I pray for your safety, I pray for your family, I pray for everything about you, that it would all be lost and swallowed up in the magnificent heart of Jesus Christ.

Waiting,
~Kendall

The Elephant Bag

I Googled the word "stress" to try and find an awesome "I'm-going-out-of-my-mind-because-I-have-so-much-to-do" definition. I only found one: "a state of mental or emotional strain or suspense." The rest went something like this: "to stress, single out as important; special emphasis attached to something; a melodic rock band formed in San Diego in 1983."

By the world's standards, I should be stressed. All-State Choir auditions, Nurse Aide certification testing, driver's test (after I've already failed once), grades in some areas dropping for no apparent reason, Nietzsche, an annoying stomach and my omnipresent perfectionism should not a happy Senior Year make.

Usually.

But while I do freak out a lot; while I will occasionally walk down the hall making high-pitched buzzing noises to dispel anxiety; while I do have to have a weekly cry-fest so that all my emotions don't explode later on; I'm quite happy. I don't feel stressed. Those reactions are usually spur of the moment before I've had time to do that very important thing that helps me remove stress and put it on God (in Google's terms, "single Him out as important"). Doing this thing is very relieving. It helps me slow down, put into words exactly what I'm feeling, and let it go.

I go to the Elephant Bag.

The Elephant Bag is a little pastel-colored baby gift bag that sits on my desk. It's medium sized, lined with colorful tissue paper, and has a stack of sticky-notes and a pen sitting next to it. Inside the elephant bag are dozens of folded up blue sticky notes. I don't reach back inside that bag. What goes in there, stays in there. (Until it gets full. I haven't quite decided what to do when that happens.)

Whenever something in my life goes horribly wrong; whenever things don't go my way; whenever I'm asked to give something up; whenever I'm anxious about something; I write down the date on a blue sticky note, write something to the effect of "this is what's going on; I give it to You," fold it up, and put it in the Elephant Bag. That bag is for Jesus. It has many declarations of the surrender of many parts of my life.

Simply writing it down doesn't do much. And I'm not saying that all my problems have been solved by a pastel gift bag with a baby elephant on it. But writing those things down, and handing them over, usually leads me to a time of sitting quietly before my God and really letting Him fill up the empty parts of my life.

I'm not always good at "leaving things" in the Elephant Bag. While the sticky notes stay there, the things I've surrendered don't always stay in Jesus hands. (This is perfectly evidenced by the multiple sticky notes proclaiming, "Jesus, I give you [insert name of person here]" that have gone in there probably at least once a week...) But the more we practice surrender, the better we get at it -- because we learn to be filled with Someone better.

"Cast all your anxiety on him because He cares for you." He means that. He wants us to take everything that causes us distress, anxiety, stress, and throw it onto His shoulders. Then our arms are free to reach up to Him in a silent plea of, "Daddy, let me hug You."

Maybe an elephant bag won't work for you. But I know casting your cares will. Discover the way you need to meet with God in order to give Him all your troubles. He loves you. He wants to hear about it. And He wants to take care of it. But first, you have to hand it over. Put it in your Elephant Bag; and leave it there.

[Note: This is not an original idea. It was taken from the novel "Redeeming Love" by Francine Rivers, in which one of the characters uses a hatbox to collect all her prayers. I personally think an elephant bag is cuter than a hat box. But that might just be me.]

A Dance With Jesus

Last night was my high school's Homecoming dance. It was an emotionally exhausting evening in many ways; but I loved it. And I'm about to tell you one of the reasons.

I don't usually worry about whether or not I'm asked to dance. I dance some, I sit others out, others I dance with my friends, but it typically all averages out nicely. However, at one point last night, I was aching for a dance. So I sat down and danced with Jesus.

Sound like an oxymoron? So is Jesus' love. I sat on a bench, accepted Jesus' gentle invitation to take His hand, and waltzed through the other couples -- all while never leaving my seat. As my eyes rested on the people on the dance floor -- some I know well and love, others I've only just met -- I talked to Jesus about them. I prayed for them as individuals; for them in relation to me, in relation to the person they were dancing with, and in relation to Jesus. For some, I prayed renewed passion. I prayed peace over others. I prayed truth over the lies being spoken to some. There were those I simply praised Him for. Others, I just said, "Jesus, I have no idea what to pray for that person or even what their name is, but please work in them!"

I cried quite a few times last night for various reasons. Most of the time, people assumed there was something wrong. And most of the time, there was. I was selfishly crying for myself. But there was one point during the night when my tears were justified; and that was during my dance with Jesus. I wept for others. He stepped in and broke my heart for the things that break His. He stepped in and reminded me, "This is not about you. This is about Me. I'm holding your heart; now pray for those who haven't yet learned to give Me the pieces." And then He gently added, "And never forget that I love dancing with you, because you are so, so precious to Me."

So this is to tell all of you beautiful girls (and handsome guys) that when there's no one to dance with, Jesus steps out and says, "I want your entire life to be a dance with Me; but let's just start with this song." Your dance with Jesus may look entirely different from mine. Maybe He'll take that entire time to remind you how absolutely beautiful you are. Maybe there will be one specific person you need to talk about while dancing. Maybe it's time to close your eyes, and trust Him to lead you. Whatever it is, He'll wait there with outstretched hands.

And so the phrase, "Dance with God; He'll let the perfect man cut in" can come true; very, very literally. =)

To Save A Life

You cannot save a life.

Now, there is the very literal running in and diving in front of a bullet before it hits someone else kind of saving a life, but that's not what I'm talking about.

You cannot save a life.

In the under-read and under-appreciated book of Ezekiel, the Lord leads Ezekiel into a valley of dry bones and asks him, "Son of man, can these bones live?"

What does Ezekiel say? Does he hop around, waving his hand in the air shouting, "Pick me! Pick me!"

"Yes, Ezekiel."

Ezekiel clears his throat and says importantly, "Yes, and I'm going to be the one to bring them back to life!"

No. That's not what Ezekiel says. He looks around at this valley of dry bones, shakes his head, and says humbly, "O Sovereign Lord, You alone know."

After Ezekiel admits that only God knows whether this is possible -- then the Lord uses him. He says, "Prophesy to these bones and say to them, 'Dry bones, hear the word of the Lord! This is what the Sovereign Lord says to these bones: I will make breath enter you, and you will come to life. I will attach tendons to you and make flesh come upon you and cover you with skin; I will put breath in you, and you will come to life. Then you will know that I am the Lord.'"

Notice something about that last passage. Who's doing the talking? Ezekiel is the one speaking to the bones...but it's God who's putting the words in his mouth. It's God who's fulfilling what He is commanding Ezekiel to prophesy. It's God who's bringing the dead back to life. Ezekiel's only response is, "So I prophesied as I was commanded."

What we need to realize is that we are the hands and feet of Christ. We are the mouthpieces. We are the hugs, the tissue-providers, the audible encouragers, the back-rubbers, the loving note writers. We are, in a sense, the prophets of Jesus Christ. But we are not Jesus Christ. All the hugs and tissues and loving notes in the world are not going to change someone. They're not going to save a life. Jesus Christ working through you is.

Does this mean we should pack up our bags and never try to change someone's life again? Absolutely not. We are to do as Ezekiel did and be able to say, "So I prophesied as I was commanded." Just as you cannot save a life without Jesus working through you, Jesus desires a vessel through which to work.

This should not be a distressing thought, that you are incapable of saving a life. It's out of your hands. It is up to God, and in His hands, this person you care so much about is entirely, completely, wonderfully safe. Do not refuse the call to be the hands and feet; but also do not believe that you, on your own, are solely responsible for redeeming a soul. Follow in the footsteps of Ezekiel, who said, "The hand of the Lord was upon me"; and only then were lives changed and the dead brought back to life.