I did some things in 2011 I'm not proud of.
Guilt and I became good friends in 2011. He kept me company at night, whispering to me about who I was. He told me I was beyond repair. He told me I had become completely worthless. He told me no one would ever want me because of my mess-ups. He told me I was merely a victim: I was helpless against my past, and all I could do was curl up in a ball at night, feeling physically sick, feeling empty, feeling guilty. He told me my only option was to be a slave to him and Shame. And worst of all, he told me, God's sick of giving you another chance...so don't even try that again.
Fortunately, before 2011 rolled to a close, Guilt lost. Grace won.
Because here's the truth of the matter.
"He forgives all my sins and heals all my diseases." -Psalm 103:3
"Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow." -Psalm 51:7
"He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was upon Him, and by His wounds we are healed. We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord has laid on Him the iniquity of us all." -Isaiah 53:5-6
"For He has rescued us from the dominion of darkness and brought us into the kingdom of the Son He loves, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." -Colossians 1:13-14
"For it is by grace you have been saved..." -Ephesians 2:8a
Guilt lied.
Everything I did in 2011...Jesus signed His Name to. And destroyed.
So here's the miracle, beyond even forgiveness of sins: He didn't stop there.
What I broke, He remade.
What I gave away, He gave back, whole and complete.
When I felt worthless, He reminded me of the fact I spoke of in my last post: Jesus died my soul to save. God gave up His life for me, and I discount my worth??
When Guilt tried to barge back in and tell me I would be unwanted, Jesus fought him for me, declaring that He Himself will be my worth. Creator God is my Worth?? Oh yes...without Him, I would be nothing, and I am very happy about that fact. Because now I will be wanted by those who want Him.
When I thought I had to be a slave, He told me, Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. There is victory. I am not powerless! I have the power of the Cross to call upon, the power of His love for me -- I can ask Him to come fight for me.
He tells me I am pure. He tells me I am new. He tells me I am complete.
And He makes it so.
Yes, 2011 was a year of messing up. But I will not remember it as such. I will remember it as a year of the most extravagant grace imaginable. I will remember it as a year of experiencing the Cross afresh. I will remember Him...
Guilt is gone -- banished by the life-giving words of my Beloved. Shame cowers in the corner when I remind him that he has no authority in my life, and I have no obligation to listen to him, because I have a new Master whose Name is Love.
And Regret? Because of mercy, because of grace, because of Jesus...my greatest regret of 2011 is cutting my hair before Prom.
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Thursday, December 22, 2011
The Gospel
This morning I woke up. As usual.
No. Not as usual. There was something different about this morning. Something was pressing heavily on my heart, trying to make its way in. I tried to shake it off. It was the oddest feeling. I was missing something...something important.
I felt distant, disconnected. Alone. I could barely breathe.
I stumbled down the ladder from my bed and got on the floor, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I was just tired. That had to be it.
Then, through a series of events, videos, songs, thoughts, verses...the Gospel finally pressed itself in, in full force, with all the breathtaking power that is contained within.
I wrote a very long post about the Gospel. And then I deleted it. Not because it shouldn't be told, again and again and again...but because the only line Jesus had pounding through my mind was the following:
Jesus died my soul to save.
Can I repeat it?
Jesus died my soul to save.
God died.
To save me.
To save you.
Death could not keep Him down. And it cannot keep me down, for I have been given the power of the Gospel through Christ Jesus. He has won...and He is allowing me to partake in the victory. He wants to pour a little of it through my life every day.
This morning I was taken to the Cross as though for the first time.
That is my prayer for you.
Abundant joy. Abundant peace. Abundant life. Abundant freedom.
They are all found at the dust at the foot of the Cross.
Jesus died my soul to save.
And yet He lives.
No. Not as usual. There was something different about this morning. Something was pressing heavily on my heart, trying to make its way in. I tried to shake it off. It was the oddest feeling. I was missing something...something important.
I felt distant, disconnected. Alone. I could barely breathe.
I stumbled down the ladder from my bed and got on the floor, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I was just tired. That had to be it.
Then, through a series of events, videos, songs, thoughts, verses...the Gospel finally pressed itself in, in full force, with all the breathtaking power that is contained within.
I wrote a very long post about the Gospel. And then I deleted it. Not because it shouldn't be told, again and again and again...but because the only line Jesus had pounding through my mind was the following:
Jesus died my soul to save.
Can I repeat it?
Jesus died my soul to save.
God died.
To save me.
To save you.
Death could not keep Him down. And it cannot keep me down, for I have been given the power of the Gospel through Christ Jesus. He has won...and He is allowing me to partake in the victory. He wants to pour a little of it through my life every day.
This morning I was taken to the Cross as though for the first time.
That is my prayer for you.
Abundant joy. Abundant peace. Abundant life. Abundant freedom.
They are all found at the dust at the foot of the Cross.
Jesus died my soul to save.
And yet He lives.
Friday, December 16, 2011
What If?
"That's just the way guys are."
I used to laugh sadly and nod my head in agreement whenever a fellow female would say this...
...until I heard a guy echo it. "That's just the way guys are," he said, and I felt my heart catch in my throat. Do you really believe that? my heart was screaming in protest. Have you really given in? Have you really become no more than what we've said you are? Have you really given up on ever being any better?
I no longer laugh at that statement, no matter who says it.
"Guys are only good for carrying things," we joke. "They'll never grow up," young women assert as they toss their hair and revel in their superiority. "Pigs, all of them," we say with a turned-up nose. And you know what they say: "They're only after one thing..."
And even as we mock them, something inside us dies: The dream of ever finding a man who will protect us, cherish us, and just love us.
"That's just the way they are," we sigh, and determine to move on and find a guy who's at least not as immature and piggish. We can never hope for any more.
And apparently, guys have started to agree. We have put them down, time and time again, and now they are convinced they can never rise above "the way they are." They have resigned themselves to defeat without ever putting up a fight -- because all the girls around them are telling them that they can never win.
Please, let me tell you something.
They can win.
Gentlemen: You can win.
"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness..." (2 Peter 1:3).
Does an attitude of combined strength and tenderness come easily to a man? Is he born with complete control over his thought life? Is warrior-poet manhood something that comes naturally to anyone?
Probably not.
"Oh Kendall," you say, "you're telling guys to deny their nature and be something they're not!"
Absolutely.
"If anyone would come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me" (Luke 9:23).
There may be a "way guys are"...before the Christ-life invades. Before Jesus completely rebuilds a man in His image. And guess what, ladies...we're just as bad.
No one, man or woman, was meant to stay the same after encountering Christ.
Does this mean a guy will suddenly become Prince Charming after meeting Jesus? Of course not. But he need no longer be a slave to who he was before.
However, we've painted a picture. We tell young men that they're in chains: the chains of modern manhood. They can't escape it. It's their nature. We graphically describe these chains, cutting men down and entrapping them in chains that no longer exist. They're not there! Jesus destroyed those chains! But even those who want to be different think it impossible.
And instead of coming alongside them and telling them that they have the power of the Living God to be a new creation and a Christ-built man, young women perpetuate the cycle. Instead of declaring freedom, we still see them as being bound by their nonexistent chains. Instead of encouraging them to get up, to walk away from a former way of life and become all that God intended, we tell them to just be the best chain-wearin' man there ever was.
I look back and think to myself, What on earth have I been doing?
What if we stopped cutting them down?
What if we stopped putting them in the world's box when they don't have to be of this world?
Sisters...what if we realized that guys don't need our criticism; they need our grace?
What if instead of talking about the way guys are, we talked about the way they could be? What if we put aside our own selfish desires for acceptance and went out of our way to protect the hearts and minds of the guys around us? What if, every time somebody made a demeaning comment about manhood, we responded with, "I don't believe it has to be like that"?
What if instead of flirting, we encouraged?
What if, instead of showing guys their chains, we showed them their Savior?
What if, instead of complaining about their one-track mind, our conversation was such that the track their minds land upon is Jesus Christ, and Him crucified?
What if we stopped looking for a boyfriend and started being a true friend?
What if we sacrificed of our time and spent hours on our knees praying true men into being?
What if we made it clear that we're fighting alongside them?
Do you think they'd start fighting, too?
"For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say 'No' to ungodliness and worldly passions and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age." -Titus 2:11-12
I used to laugh sadly and nod my head in agreement whenever a fellow female would say this...
...until I heard a guy echo it. "That's just the way guys are," he said, and I felt my heart catch in my throat. Do you really believe that? my heart was screaming in protest. Have you really given in? Have you really become no more than what we've said you are? Have you really given up on ever being any better?
I no longer laugh at that statement, no matter who says it.
"Guys are only good for carrying things," we joke. "They'll never grow up," young women assert as they toss their hair and revel in their superiority. "Pigs, all of them," we say with a turned-up nose. And you know what they say: "They're only after one thing..."
And even as we mock them, something inside us dies: The dream of ever finding a man who will protect us, cherish us, and just love us.
"That's just the way they are," we sigh, and determine to move on and find a guy who's at least not as immature and piggish. We can never hope for any more.
And apparently, guys have started to agree. We have put them down, time and time again, and now they are convinced they can never rise above "the way they are." They have resigned themselves to defeat without ever putting up a fight -- because all the girls around them are telling them that they can never win.
Please, let me tell you something.
They can win.
Gentlemen: You can win.
"His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness..." (2 Peter 1:3).
Does an attitude of combined strength and tenderness come easily to a man? Is he born with complete control over his thought life? Is warrior-poet manhood something that comes naturally to anyone?
Probably not.
"Oh Kendall," you say, "you're telling guys to deny their nature and be something they're not!"
Absolutely.
"If anyone would come after Me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow Me" (Luke 9:23).
There may be a "way guys are"...before the Christ-life invades. Before Jesus completely rebuilds a man in His image. And guess what, ladies...we're just as bad.
No one, man or woman, was meant to stay the same after encountering Christ.
Does this mean a guy will suddenly become Prince Charming after meeting Jesus? Of course not. But he need no longer be a slave to who he was before.
However, we've painted a picture. We tell young men that they're in chains: the chains of modern manhood. They can't escape it. It's their nature. We graphically describe these chains, cutting men down and entrapping them in chains that no longer exist. They're not there! Jesus destroyed those chains! But even those who want to be different think it impossible.
And instead of coming alongside them and telling them that they have the power of the Living God to be a new creation and a Christ-built man, young women perpetuate the cycle. Instead of declaring freedom, we still see them as being bound by their nonexistent chains. Instead of encouraging them to get up, to walk away from a former way of life and become all that God intended, we tell them to just be the best chain-wearin' man there ever was.
I look back and think to myself, What on earth have I been doing?
What if we stopped cutting them down?
What if we stopped putting them in the world's box when they don't have to be of this world?
Sisters...what if we realized that guys don't need our criticism; they need our grace?
What if instead of talking about the way guys are, we talked about the way they could be? What if we put aside our own selfish desires for acceptance and went out of our way to protect the hearts and minds of the guys around us? What if, every time somebody made a demeaning comment about manhood, we responded with, "I don't believe it has to be like that"?
What if instead of flirting, we encouraged?
What if, instead of showing guys their chains, we showed them their Savior?
What if, instead of complaining about their one-track mind, our conversation was such that the track their minds land upon is Jesus Christ, and Him crucified?
What if we stopped looking for a boyfriend and started being a true friend?
What if we sacrificed of our time and spent hours on our knees praying true men into being?
What if we made it clear that we're fighting alongside them?
Do you think they'd start fighting, too?
"For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say 'No' to ungodliness and worldly passions and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age." -Titus 2:11-12
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
Pieces
The Lord speaks in mysterious ways...
About a week ago, I fell asleep praying about what I should get my roomie for Christmas. That night, I dreamed that I gave her Duplo building blocks. (Weird, I know.) When I woke up, I was convinced that was what I needed to get her. But alas, Target and Wal-Mart were lacking in plain Duplo blocks, so she ended up with something entirely different.
But I still felt that dream was divinely inspired. I thought, God, there must be something You want to show her, some lesson You want to teach her through those blocks! It would just be so great if I could find them!
Mm-mm. No. Jesus shook His head and said, "Yes, there's a lesson in those blocks...but it's for you."
Me?? Psh, what was I going to learn from Duplo blocks? My roomie is tons more creative than me; I thought surely she'd be able to understand it. But me, I could never get any meaning out of Duplo blocks. That's ridiculous.
Then the Lord led me to the song "Pieces," by Red.
I'm here again, a thousand miles away from You
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard, thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way
Then I see Your face
I know I'm finally Yours
I find everything I thought I'd lost before
You call my name
I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole
I've come undone, but You make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in Your hand
I tried so hard, so hard
Then I see Your face
I know I'm finally Yours
I find everything I thought I'd lost before
You call my name
I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole
I'd listened to this song several times before it suddenly hit me. I don't want to call it a "vision," but that's almost what it was. An entire story flashed through my mind in a split second. It went something like this.
"What are we making, Daddy?" the little girl asked, trailing her fingers through the pile of colorful Duplo blocks.
"A special house," the Daddy replied. "It will be beautiful and perfect."
The little girl smiled. "When will it be done?"
"It will take a long time, and it will be hard," the Daddy said seriously. "Every single piece will have an important part, and we must make sure they are all in the right place. But it will be worth it."
The little girl frowned. "That doesn't sound very fun." She bit her lip and appeared to consider for a minute, then said hesitantly, "But I trust You, Daddy."
The little girl and the Daddy began building together. They built after His pattern for a while. But the little girl became impatient. "Daddy, I want this house done right now!" she insisted.
"It will not be as beautiful if we hurry it," the Daddy warned her. "We will not be able to follow My pattern."
"But I don't want to follow Your pattern!" she whined. "It's boring! I'll build this house on my own." And so saying, she threw herself over the unused Duplo blocks and pulled them away from her Daddy. "You come back in a while," she instructed Him, "and I'll surprise You with how purty it is." Sitting up proudly, she waved Him away, and began to build on her own.
With each passing day, the "house" looked less and less like a house. Pieces were lost, stolen by the neighbor boy, eaten by the dog, accidentally kicked under the couch. The little girl had not realized how much her Daddy had done to protect the pieces. But more importantly, the little girl did not know how to build on her own. She understood nothing of how to make a house, and she simply threw pieces haphazardly together, trying to make it "purty."
Finally, coming to work on her house one day, the little girl simply stopped and stared before bursting into tears. "This isn't a house," she said to herself. "It's just a big mess, and it's not purty, and I don't know how to fix it, especially because pieces are missing." She collapsed in a heap of little-girl skirts and little-girl tears, and began tearing down the house she was building.
When it was completely demolished, she went into the kitchen to find a tissue. Her Daddy was there. She jumped when she saw Him, and she hung her head, ashamed.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked tenderly. "How's your house?"
Her lip quivered as she tried to hold back a sob, but it burst forth anyway. "It's all in pieces," she said helplessly, opening her fist to reveal a handful of disconnected pieces.
The Daddy took His daughter in His arms. He held her and waited for her to calm down a bit before He said quietly, "We can start over."
The little girl shook her head. "Pieces are missing. It can't be what You wanted it to be. It will never be beautiful and perfect ever again, because I didn't guard the pieces, and You said every piece was important."
"You are right, we cannot build it the exact same way I wanted to, with the original pieces," the Daddy said. "But I have new pieces to replace the lost ones. It can still be just as perfect and beautiful."
The little girl looked at her Daddy, wide-eyed. "Really?"
He smiled and nodded. "Really. But this time, you have to follow My plan if you want it to turn out right. Otherwise we'll have to start all over again."
"I trust You," she said confidently. "And maybe there will be times when I don't, but You will help me, won't you?"
The Daddy took the pieces from His daughter's hand. "Always."
That vision meant something very specific to me, but it could apply to so many things. We have our own ideas about how to build a "house" -- whether it be a house of joy, purity, romance, happiness, success, whatever. We know what we want, we want it quickly, and we think God's plan is, frankly, a little boring.
But give it enough time, and we look at the thing we've created and realize it looks nothing like joy or purity or success at all. It looks like a mess. We tear it down in our frustration, and suddenly we have nothing but pieces. We think it can never look like what God intended.
But it can! Oh, Friend, it can.
"He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!'" (Revelation 21:5a)
"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Mark 2:17)
Christ is in the business of restoring our messes to the way they were originally supposed to be. And when He does, we know it had to be all Him... We are far too prone to error to have built something so beautiful.
No matter how much we have messed up... we are never so far He cannot completely rebuild us in His perfect image. He came so that we could be restored -- not so that we could wallow in our sin. He came to pull us out from the pit -- not so that we could be "saved," but remain in that pit. He came to rewrite our stories, rebuild our houses, restore our brokenness. He came that we might have life, and we should not expect a second-rate version of life because we messed up. He's bigger than that. Leslie Ludy writes, "Once you have been restored by Him, you are clothed in His righteousness. You are entitled to all the benefits of His amazing kingdom. Your forgiveness is complete. Your sin is removed as far from you as the east is from the west. It is finished."
The things we thought we'd lost forever...He makes them new. The things we thought were broken beyond repair...He makes them new. The things we thought we would never be able to do over...He makes new. He makes all things new. He gives second chance after second chance after second chance. How He loves!!
"I find everything I thought I'd lost before... I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole."
Ah, the lessons one learns from Duplos.
About a week ago, I fell asleep praying about what I should get my roomie for Christmas. That night, I dreamed that I gave her Duplo building blocks. (Weird, I know.) When I woke up, I was convinced that was what I needed to get her. But alas, Target and Wal-Mart were lacking in plain Duplo blocks, so she ended up with something entirely different.
But I still felt that dream was divinely inspired. I thought, God, there must be something You want to show her, some lesson You want to teach her through those blocks! It would just be so great if I could find them!
Mm-mm. No. Jesus shook His head and said, "Yes, there's a lesson in those blocks...but it's for you."
Me?? Psh, what was I going to learn from Duplo blocks? My roomie is tons more creative than me; I thought surely she'd be able to understand it. But me, I could never get any meaning out of Duplo blocks. That's ridiculous.
Then the Lord led me to the song "Pieces," by Red.
I'm here again, a thousand miles away from You
A broken mess, just scattered pieces of who I am
I tried so hard, thought I could do this on my own
I've lost so much along the way
Then I see Your face
I know I'm finally Yours
I find everything I thought I'd lost before
You call my name
I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole
I've come undone, but You make sense of who I am
Like puzzle pieces in Your hand
I tried so hard, so hard
Then I see Your face
I know I'm finally Yours
I find everything I thought I'd lost before
You call my name
I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole
I'd listened to this song several times before it suddenly hit me. I don't want to call it a "vision," but that's almost what it was. An entire story flashed through my mind in a split second. It went something like this.
"What are we making, Daddy?" the little girl asked, trailing her fingers through the pile of colorful Duplo blocks.
"A special house," the Daddy replied. "It will be beautiful and perfect."
The little girl smiled. "When will it be done?"
"It will take a long time, and it will be hard," the Daddy said seriously. "Every single piece will have an important part, and we must make sure they are all in the right place. But it will be worth it."
The little girl frowned. "That doesn't sound very fun." She bit her lip and appeared to consider for a minute, then said hesitantly, "But I trust You, Daddy."
The little girl and the Daddy began building together. They built after His pattern for a while. But the little girl became impatient. "Daddy, I want this house done right now!" she insisted.
"It will not be as beautiful if we hurry it," the Daddy warned her. "We will not be able to follow My pattern."
"But I don't want to follow Your pattern!" she whined. "It's boring! I'll build this house on my own." And so saying, she threw herself over the unused Duplo blocks and pulled them away from her Daddy. "You come back in a while," she instructed Him, "and I'll surprise You with how purty it is." Sitting up proudly, she waved Him away, and began to build on her own.
With each passing day, the "house" looked less and less like a house. Pieces were lost, stolen by the neighbor boy, eaten by the dog, accidentally kicked under the couch. The little girl had not realized how much her Daddy had done to protect the pieces. But more importantly, the little girl did not know how to build on her own. She understood nothing of how to make a house, and she simply threw pieces haphazardly together, trying to make it "purty."
Finally, coming to work on her house one day, the little girl simply stopped and stared before bursting into tears. "This isn't a house," she said to herself. "It's just a big mess, and it's not purty, and I don't know how to fix it, especially because pieces are missing." She collapsed in a heap of little-girl skirts and little-girl tears, and began tearing down the house she was building.
When it was completely demolished, she went into the kitchen to find a tissue. Her Daddy was there. She jumped when she saw Him, and she hung her head, ashamed.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He asked tenderly. "How's your house?"
Her lip quivered as she tried to hold back a sob, but it burst forth anyway. "It's all in pieces," she said helplessly, opening her fist to reveal a handful of disconnected pieces.
The Daddy took His daughter in His arms. He held her and waited for her to calm down a bit before He said quietly, "We can start over."
The little girl shook her head. "Pieces are missing. It can't be what You wanted it to be. It will never be beautiful and perfect ever again, because I didn't guard the pieces, and You said every piece was important."
"You are right, we cannot build it the exact same way I wanted to, with the original pieces," the Daddy said. "But I have new pieces to replace the lost ones. It can still be just as perfect and beautiful."
The little girl looked at her Daddy, wide-eyed. "Really?"
He smiled and nodded. "Really. But this time, you have to follow My plan if you want it to turn out right. Otherwise we'll have to start all over again."
"I trust You," she said confidently. "And maybe there will be times when I don't, but You will help me, won't you?"
The Daddy took the pieces from His daughter's hand. "Always."
That vision meant something very specific to me, but it could apply to so many things. We have our own ideas about how to build a "house" -- whether it be a house of joy, purity, romance, happiness, success, whatever. We know what we want, we want it quickly, and we think God's plan is, frankly, a little boring.
But give it enough time, and we look at the thing we've created and realize it looks nothing like joy or purity or success at all. It looks like a mess. We tear it down in our frustration, and suddenly we have nothing but pieces. We think it can never look like what God intended.
But it can! Oh, Friend, it can.
"He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!'" (Revelation 21:5a)
"It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." (Mark 2:17)
Christ is in the business of restoring our messes to the way they were originally supposed to be. And when He does, we know it had to be all Him... We are far too prone to error to have built something so beautiful.
No matter how much we have messed up... we are never so far He cannot completely rebuild us in His perfect image. He came so that we could be restored -- not so that we could wallow in our sin. He came to pull us out from the pit -- not so that we could be "saved," but remain in that pit. He came to rewrite our stories, rebuild our houses, restore our brokenness. He came that we might have life, and we should not expect a second-rate version of life because we messed up. He's bigger than that. Leslie Ludy writes, "Once you have been restored by Him, you are clothed in His righteousness. You are entitled to all the benefits of His amazing kingdom. Your forgiveness is complete. Your sin is removed as far from you as the east is from the west. It is finished."
The things we thought we'd lost forever...He makes them new. The things we thought were broken beyond repair...He makes them new. The things we thought we would never be able to do over...He makes new. He makes all things new. He gives second chance after second chance after second chance. How He loves!!
"I find everything I thought I'd lost before... I come to You in pieces so You can make me whole."
Ah, the lessons one learns from Duplos.
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Little Things
It's the way lights get a halo when it's raining. It's the ticking noise that old-fashioned clocks make. It's rain boots and umbrellas and the different ways people say "umbrella." It's the crisp snapping noise when you flick open a new trash bag. It's the beautiful sound and the enthralling sight when you pour water over parched soil.
It's warm cookies on a cold November day. It's the soft peaks in whipped cream. It's old pictures and the smell of old books. It's the crinkling noise of Bible pages. It's funny hats and strangely patterned scarves. It's the little girl who hides behind her mommy in the grocery store. It's singing Taylor Swift songs to your lunch. It's streets named "Christmastime Lane," that you know stay named that in the middle of July.
It's the amazing fact that the word "kerfuffle" actually exists. It's giraffe-patterned pillows. It's googly eyes. It's wiggling your toes in a soft carpet. It's ties, handsome ties and funny ties and bow ties. It's knowing that at any given moment, somewhere a mother is holding her baby for the very first time. It's the clicking noise that a keyboard makes when you type with long fingernails. It's taking five minutes to wash your hands because you're blowing bubbles with the soap.
It's the little things in life.
"We are all in the gutter," wrote Oscar Wilde, "but some of us are looking at the stars."
Dear Jesus...I thank You for the little things, for You have made them, just as You made the big things. I know that You have placed us in our particular situations for a reason. Sometimes, we might not be able to see that reason, and we get frustrated -- with ourselves, with the people around us, with life, even with You. Our eyes are fixed on the gutter surrounding us, and we can so easily get caught up in the annoyances that come with it. Oh Lord, draw our eyes to the stars. Show us the little things. Teach us to smile at the things that might seem the most insignificant, for they are precious gifts from You to remind us that You are there. You give us stars. You give us moments. You give us the little things. "I have learned the secret of being content," and it is that "I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength." And Christ is so good to us; He gives us little joys that would make up so much of life, if only we will notice them. So oh, God! let us notice them! Let us see Your hand and Your great affection for us in the everyday. Give us hearts and eyes open to the wonder and joy of the little things.
Friday, November 18, 2011
One of Those Nights
Last night was one of those nights. Dinner in the dining hall wasn't good. I was homesick. I wanted to curl up in a little ball, put a pillow over my head, and not get up until next month when I can go home. Little, tiny things were annoying me. And for whatever reason, I, Kendall, now seem incapable of tears and have been for about two and a half months.
One of those nights.
And He waited for me. With arms open, waited for me to come and find rest. He waited to hold me close and whisper sweet words of assurance and love to me. He waited to let me find a home near His heart. He waited to bring me to tears, not from petty human frustration, but from amazement at His goodness.
I kept Him waiting. He waited, and waited, and waited.
Oh, I still have so much to learn. It feels as though every time I take a step forward, I take two back. Every time a part of self dies, another part I thought was gone comes back. Every time I think I've got it, I realize I don't.
I am a seriously messed up person. And that's not okay.
But my God is for me. He has won the victory. He has purchased abundant life and victory for me. He has made me new. He has redeemed me and given me a new identity. But that new identity is so foreign that I am ever in the process of learning how to live as His princess. It will take a lifetime, but that's okay.
So let me rephrase. I was a seriously messed up person. But that is not who I am. Because my loving Daddy saw me from heaven, reached down, took hold of me, and made me His. He declared, "It is finished!" And it is! Oh, it is...
"For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will." -Ephesians 1:4-5
When I choose something, I have the option of not selecting something. I could choose one thing over another, choose several things and leave some out, or choose nothing at all. If I have this luxury, how much more does God! He is all-powerful. He could have passed me by. He could have decided to exclude me, or even to not create me.
But that's not what He did. He chose me. He has chosen all of us.
So what will our response be?
If a rich, loving King came to a poor, starving, wretched girl and told her he had decided to adopt her, would she reject His offer of food, shelter, and love? She would be a fool to do so! Rather, she should fall at His feet, weeping, protesting her unworthiness, saying she's not a princess and never could be.
But that is immaterial. The paperwork is signed. She is a princess -- already. Without her doing a thing. The royal room is prepared, a crown is set out for her. All she need do is accept this amazing offer and begin to accept the reality of her new identity. She needs to leave her old life, move into the palace, and begin to learn from her new Daddy what it means to be a princess.
She will often slip back into old habits. Her speech will often lack the dignity of a princess. She will put her elbows on the table. She'll wrinkle her nose and do all the un-princess-like things she's done all her life. And more than likely, she will often be embarrassed to go to her new Father -- she cannot understand why He would care about her life. But slowly, surely, the more time goes by, her behavior will begin to reflect who she is now. She will dress elegantly. She will eat in a refined manner. And she will be unafraid to run to her King, for He is her Father.
That is the reality of who I am. A princess. Sometimes I'm not very good at living up to that (actually, most of the time I'm not). But just because I haven't fully achieved princess-like behavior doesn't mean I'm not still a princess. I am! He chose me! The adoption papers are signed, the process is complete. I'm a princess. He chose me.
He chose you.
How good our Jesus is... He can redeem even one of those nights.
One of those nights.
And He waited for me. With arms open, waited for me to come and find rest. He waited to hold me close and whisper sweet words of assurance and love to me. He waited to let me find a home near His heart. He waited to bring me to tears, not from petty human frustration, but from amazement at His goodness.
I kept Him waiting. He waited, and waited, and waited.
Oh, I still have so much to learn. It feels as though every time I take a step forward, I take two back. Every time a part of self dies, another part I thought was gone comes back. Every time I think I've got it, I realize I don't.
I am a seriously messed up person. And that's not okay.
But my God is for me. He has won the victory. He has purchased abundant life and victory for me. He has made me new. He has redeemed me and given me a new identity. But that new identity is so foreign that I am ever in the process of learning how to live as His princess. It will take a lifetime, but that's okay.
So let me rephrase. I was a seriously messed up person. But that is not who I am. Because my loving Daddy saw me from heaven, reached down, took hold of me, and made me His. He declared, "It is finished!" And it is! Oh, it is...
"For He chose us in Him before the creation of the world to be holy and blameless in His sight. In love He predestined us to be adopted as His sons through Jesus Christ, in accordance with His pleasure and will." -Ephesians 1:4-5
When I choose something, I have the option of not selecting something. I could choose one thing over another, choose several things and leave some out, or choose nothing at all. If I have this luxury, how much more does God! He is all-powerful. He could have passed me by. He could have decided to exclude me, or even to not create me.
But that's not what He did. He chose me. He has chosen all of us.
So what will our response be?
If a rich, loving King came to a poor, starving, wretched girl and told her he had decided to adopt her, would she reject His offer of food, shelter, and love? She would be a fool to do so! Rather, she should fall at His feet, weeping, protesting her unworthiness, saying she's not a princess and never could be.
But that is immaterial. The paperwork is signed. She is a princess -- already. Without her doing a thing. The royal room is prepared, a crown is set out for her. All she need do is accept this amazing offer and begin to accept the reality of her new identity. She needs to leave her old life, move into the palace, and begin to learn from her new Daddy what it means to be a princess.
She will often slip back into old habits. Her speech will often lack the dignity of a princess. She will put her elbows on the table. She'll wrinkle her nose and do all the un-princess-like things she's done all her life. And more than likely, she will often be embarrassed to go to her new Father -- she cannot understand why He would care about her life. But slowly, surely, the more time goes by, her behavior will begin to reflect who she is now. She will dress elegantly. She will eat in a refined manner. And she will be unafraid to run to her King, for He is her Father.
That is the reality of who I am. A princess. Sometimes I'm not very good at living up to that (actually, most of the time I'm not). But just because I haven't fully achieved princess-like behavior doesn't mean I'm not still a princess. I am! He chose me! The adoption papers are signed, the process is complete. I'm a princess. He chose me.
He chose you.
How good our Jesus is... He can redeem even one of those nights.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
Sacred Studying
I've already told you about never thinking God cared about spiders (if you've forgotten that lovely *sarcasm* story, you can read about it here). And I told you about my realization that God cares about exercise.
But there's something else. Something that, around this time of year, I think we all need to be reminded of.
God cares about school.
Some of us need to be reminded that we are to reflect the glory of God in every part of our life.
"Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might." ~Ecclesiastes 9:10a
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." ~Colossians 3:23
"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." ~1 Corinthians 10:31
We have been given an incredible opportunity -- an opportunity to learn about this world God has created and the story He is penning within it. For whatever reason, part of that story has you placed in a classroom for several hours out of the day. This is not merely some haphazard freak of nature. This is God's sacred intent for you for this time in your life. So give it back to Him! Let everything you do be done until Him. Ask for His patience, His wisdom, His clarity, and His vision of why you are here and why you are doing what you are doing. For whatever reason, He wants you to be learning what you are learning -- strive to find out why. Strive to see Him in every aspect of your studies. Ask Him to give you a heart of persistence and diligence. Ask Him for a heart of worship, even in this seemingly unrelated area. He is Lord of all of your life!
And some of us...some of us need to remember that this life is not about school.
Now before you go rolling your eyes and waving that off as a problem unique to Kendall, let me tell you how my school idolatry began.
It started with a nightmare. It wasn't a real nightmare, it was more like a daymare... One of those tricks your mind plays on you, one of those scenarios that will probably never come true that are somehow conjured up in your head.
It went something like this.
“Kendall, you cannot progress to nursing courses.”
I stared at my academic advisor in disbelief as she explained that I had failed to pass one of the critical courses for progression to nursing. In addition to this, I had lost my scholarship, since my GPA had dropped below its requirement.
I knew what this meant. I would have to go home. I would not be going back to college the next semester. I would not be becoming a nurse. I had failed.
I fought back the tears and tried to listen as my advisor explained that I could retake the course or switch majors, but I shook my head. Without the scholarship, there was no possible way I could continue. After two years of college, I was going home. I didn’t know what I would do. All the plans, all the dreams I’d ever had were crushed. No little "RN" by my name. I had not achieved my calling. I was useless.
Obviously this hasn't happened. Actually, when I first wrote down this "daymare," I hadn't even graduated from high school yet. But it terrified me. And from that point on, I threw myself into studying, and into a much less healthy and much more dangerous occupation -- worrying. What ifs played through my head before every test for the first two months of college. What if I failed a class? What if I couldn't be a nurse? I had been so sure of my calling, but I began to doubt it -- and I had absolutely no grounds to. I began to make plans for failure -- a plan B -- while I carried the full weight of the success or failure of plan A on my shoulders.
And then I read the following quote.
"God never issued instructions which He was not prepared to enable us to obey." ~Elisabeth Elliot
Guess what, Kendall, God began to whisper to my heart. I don't have a plan B. I never have a plan B. Do you think I would call you to do something, and then not provide a way for you to do it? Even if your life looks completely different from what you've imagined -- that's My plan A.
Jesus isn't going to give me a second-best life. And He isn't going to give you a second-best life.
So to all of my sweet friends slaving over college applications...do your best. Work at it with all your heart. But work at it as unto Christ. Wherever He wants you, He will make a way -- even if it looks impossible. He cares more about this than even you do.
To all my buddies studying for end-of-semester tests, writing long papers and staying up crying tears of stress that I understand only too well: Keep working hard, but never let the calling of school overshadow the importance of the One who called you. And never imagine that this is not a part of your life that Jesus wants under His lordship. When it composes the majority of your day, how could He not want it centered around Him and His will?
You are a full-time student. This is your calling for today. Therefore, do it to the best of your ability, by the grace of God, all for His glory.
But there's something else. Something that, around this time of year, I think we all need to be reminded of.
God cares about school.
Some of us need to be reminded that we are to reflect the glory of God in every part of our life.
"Whatever your hand finds to do, do it with all your might." ~Ecclesiastes 9:10a
"Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men." ~Colossians 3:23
"So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God." ~1 Corinthians 10:31
We have been given an incredible opportunity -- an opportunity to learn about this world God has created and the story He is penning within it. For whatever reason, part of that story has you placed in a classroom for several hours out of the day. This is not merely some haphazard freak of nature. This is God's sacred intent for you for this time in your life. So give it back to Him! Let everything you do be done until Him. Ask for His patience, His wisdom, His clarity, and His vision of why you are here and why you are doing what you are doing. For whatever reason, He wants you to be learning what you are learning -- strive to find out why. Strive to see Him in every aspect of your studies. Ask Him to give you a heart of persistence and diligence. Ask Him for a heart of worship, even in this seemingly unrelated area. He is Lord of all of your life!
And some of us...some of us need to remember that this life is not about school.
Now before you go rolling your eyes and waving that off as a problem unique to Kendall, let me tell you how my school idolatry began.
It started with a nightmare. It wasn't a real nightmare, it was more like a daymare... One of those tricks your mind plays on you, one of those scenarios that will probably never come true that are somehow conjured up in your head.
It went something like this.
“Kendall, you cannot progress to nursing courses.”
I stared at my academic advisor in disbelief as she explained that I had failed to pass one of the critical courses for progression to nursing. In addition to this, I had lost my scholarship, since my GPA had dropped below its requirement.
I knew what this meant. I would have to go home. I would not be going back to college the next semester. I would not be becoming a nurse. I had failed.
I fought back the tears and tried to listen as my advisor explained that I could retake the course or switch majors, but I shook my head. Without the scholarship, there was no possible way I could continue. After two years of college, I was going home. I didn’t know what I would do. All the plans, all the dreams I’d ever had were crushed. No little "RN" by my name. I had not achieved my calling. I was useless.
Obviously this hasn't happened. Actually, when I first wrote down this "daymare," I hadn't even graduated from high school yet. But it terrified me. And from that point on, I threw myself into studying, and into a much less healthy and much more dangerous occupation -- worrying. What ifs played through my head before every test for the first two months of college. What if I failed a class? What if I couldn't be a nurse? I had been so sure of my calling, but I began to doubt it -- and I had absolutely no grounds to. I began to make plans for failure -- a plan B -- while I carried the full weight of the success or failure of plan A on my shoulders.
And then I read the following quote.
"God never issued instructions which He was not prepared to enable us to obey." ~Elisabeth Elliot
Guess what, Kendall, God began to whisper to my heart. I don't have a plan B. I never have a plan B. Do you think I would call you to do something, and then not provide a way for you to do it? Even if your life looks completely different from what you've imagined -- that's My plan A.
Jesus isn't going to give me a second-best life. And He isn't going to give you a second-best life.
So to all of my sweet friends slaving over college applications...do your best. Work at it with all your heart. But work at it as unto Christ. Wherever He wants you, He will make a way -- even if it looks impossible. He cares more about this than even you do.
To all my buddies studying for end-of-semester tests, writing long papers and staying up crying tears of stress that I understand only too well: Keep working hard, but never let the calling of school overshadow the importance of the One who called you. And never imagine that this is not a part of your life that Jesus wants under His lordship. When it composes the majority of your day, how could He not want it centered around Him and His will?
You are a full-time student. This is your calling for today. Therefore, do it to the best of your ability, by the grace of God, all for His glory.
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