Every Excuse in the Book

Tis the season! Well...almost. Our tree is already up and the memories of Christmas past are coming back. Thanksgiving and Christmas were always so much fun. We would travel all over the state visiting family and celebrating the holidays. Dad made every effort to go all out to make memories we would treasure always. And that's what makes this time of year a little harder. Life is so busy and I feel so blessed that I'm usually going too hard and fast to realize how different life is from what it used to be. But the closer the holidays get, the more I recognize how different life is without Dad.
So that's what I was feeling over the weekend. A little sad. But I'm not writing to share my emotions with the world. Instead, I want to share what God did.
I've been reading the Bible since I was 10 years-old. I grew up watching mom read it long before any of us stirred. So for me, it seemed normal. Life is crazy. It always will be. There is no slowing down from this point on. Jesus is worth it. And when I spend time with Him, I don't always walk away feeling warm and fuzzy. But over time, I grow. It's like putting sand in the bucket. It's a slow process, but over time the change becomes evident and even drastic.
So today I woke up a little early as usual. I grabbed my coffee (because coffee makes my time with Jesus that much better) and dove into Psalm. I started in Psalm 119:65 and two verses later BOOM. He's speaking to me. "Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I obey your word...My eyes fail, looking for your promise; I say, "When will you comfort me?"...Your word is a lamp to my feet and a light for my path." (119:67, 82, 105) When life is smooth, it's easy to wander off. We compromise a little here, slack off there. That's what trials are for. They keep us focused on what life is all about: living for the King. When I'm in pain, I call out to God for help, and even though He doesn't always take my pain away, He draws he close to himself and loves me. He teaches me discipline and perseverance. And then I was reminded of what some of God's promises to me are via the sermon on Sunday morning. Promises like "he will never leave you" (Deut 31:6), "When you pass through the waters, I will be with you" (Isa 43:2), and "surely I am with you always" (Matt 28:20). The idea is that no matter what we face, good or bad, God is there. These promises are easy to memorize, but apart from spending time with God personally, this knowledge will remain in your head and never penetrate your heart. Sunday morning isn't enough. Group Bible studies aren't enough. Think about it, you can't really get to know someone on a deeper level in a group setting. You must spend time with them talking one-on-one. Why should we treat God any different?
2 Corinthians 6:1-2, "As God's fellow workers we urge you not to receive God's grace in vain. For he says, "In the time of my favor I heard you, and in the day of salvation I helped you." I tell you, now is the time of God's favor, now is the day of salvation." God wants to offer his children so much. But we put it off using every excuse in the book. God doesn't say "tomorrow" or "when you feel like it" or "someday". He says NOW.

Vision & Passion

Growing up, good grades in school came very easily. As long as I read the lesson or listened to the lecture, and "A" was almost always guaranteed. I had made lower grades before, but a little extra work and the grade would be pulled back up. Then came a dreaded day. I brought home a "B". I promised to study and do better. Then, I came home with ANOTHER "B". Mom and Dad weren't over the top stern or angry, but they expected us to do our best. And anything other than an "A" wasn't our best. Following this second low grade, mom and dad conferred in their room the next afternoon. I was scared to death. Would I be grounded? From what? For how long?
They called me in and closed the door. This was it. Life as I knew it was over. They didn't ground me, they did worse: required me to spend exactly an hour every school day studying AFTER I had finished my regular school work. NOOOO!!! This was the end.
For the next two years, I was made to study at the allotted time. Low and behold! I made great grades. My first year in high school, I was no longer timed. Yet, I would spend anywhere between 1-3 hours studying. Who would've guessed that Mom and Dad actually knew what they were talking about.
There is a legitimate purpose for me sharing this story. I have been walking with Christ for almost 12 years now and studying His Word since I was 10 years-old. It's been one beautiful adventure and journey after the next. But this past summer, I started to plateau. Something was missing. I was still studying the Bible. Still striving to live according to it. But I lacked something. And up until now I haven't been ready or willing to take the next step. That step is prayer.
The world is filled with pastors and Christians that have a great knowledge of the Word. But even Satan quotes chunks of the Old Testament to Jesus when He fasted for 40 days. We know so much. Can define all the fancy terms. Can plan some astounding programs. But where is the vision? Where is the passion? When I say vision I don't mean man made plan, I mean God breathed design. And when I say passion, I certainly do not mean emotion that rises and falls like waves, but a fire that blazes continually within and spreads like wildfire. This vision and this passion can only come through prayer to the Author and Perfecter of our faith.
Now, I have a confession. There are times when I completely loath sitting still and trying to pray for more than ten minutes at a time. It's tedious and boring and I don't have time for it! But I decided to force myself to sit still and think of something to pray for. The first few times were tedious, like when my parents "forced" me to study an hour a day. As time has gone on, however, it's gotten both easier and pleasurable. It turns out that when I discipline myself in both studying and prayer, both become easier and even enjoyable. My favorite time to pray is driving alone in my car. I do a lot of driving throughout the week and when I arrive at my destination, I'm kind of disappointed that that time has come to a close. So if you ever drive past me and I appear to be talking to myself, have no fear. I'm not going insane.
Just today, I was driving home from an errand and felt the urge to pray for a friend for some things they might be feeling and experiencing. Then tonight, I was talking with them asking what they were up to and they explained that God had put something on their heart. The same something I had been praying about. And this thought came into their mind about the time I was praying. Coincidence? I would hardly say so.
Christians today should seek more than just a nice verse to warm their hearts. They should seek a vision from the Lord and a passion for it. It may be a vision for this week, or a lifetime plan. Either way, we can't know the Lord's will unless we truly seek it.

Blessed by My Burdens

Both July 9th and the one year anniversary of my blog came and went without a new post or update. I've been trying to sort through the feelings and experiences surrounding these two notable events. 

For the past few months I've really struggled with the thought of my dad being gone for a year. It hasn't felt like a year. A month maybe. Even a day. Sometimes it feels like it happened an hour ago. But not a year. Mentally, I built that date up in my mind. I both dreaded its coming as well as anticipated its end. A year of firsts is gone. It's relieving and unsettling.

If you've never faced a loss like this, I can't truly explain my actions or emotions. But they're not crazy and they're very real. The week before July 9th, 2014 was much harder than the actual anniversary. I missed him badly. I didn't want to let go of the past. Didn't want to move on from the "should've beens" and the old "normals". 

The truth is, I have a new normal. My house is filled with two sisters, a mom, and a stinky little brother. I'm fatherless. I'm weaker than I thought I was. This is my new normal. I no longer look at the past with fingers crossed, praying for just one more day with him. Just one more hug. I've embraced God's plan for me. It's not most people's "normal" but it's God's providence. 

I had a thought the other day that's given me hope. I have been through the loss of a close loved one. I  have survived it and grown through it. Dad faced different kinds of pain and loss, but never the death of a loved one. I get to grow and trust God in a different way than my dad ever could. I reached the brink of despair in a way he never could and felt such victory and triumph with a joy he could never experience simply because he wasn't blessed with this kind of suffering. 

Yes, I just said BLESSED. 

I could spend the rest of my life wishing to have my daddy back. And I could squander the rest of my days clinging to the past. But if this trial had never taken place, I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't be ME. Our experiences, and most importantly our reactions to them, make us who we are. I am more humbled, yet more strengthened. I am more dependent on Christ, yet fiercely independent of the world. I have reached rock bottom, yet have felt God's overflowing grace as I rise to the top. I can sympathize with people in a way I never could before. This is who God is creating me to be. I'm not complete yet. I mean, I'm still breathing so there's still much to learn and much to be done. My faith, my attitude, and my life has been altered all because of God's perfect, though often painful, plan. 

Grace That is Mine

A week from today, my dad will have been gone for a year. A lot of emotions and memories have been swirling around inside me for the past few weeks, and today God gave me the grace to express them. I'm not very good at poems, but this is my heart right now. 

"Grace That Is Mine"

A million different feelings
Are skipping through my heart
A million different questions
Are tearing me apart.
Joy glides past on grateful toes
Love abounds and overflows
Peace surrounds me in darkest night
The name of Jesus puts my fears to flight.

And just like that,
All seems lost.
The hope,
The happiness I once had
The Perfect Name that made me glad.
Has it vanished?
Has it ceased?
Is this mountain too big?
Or this valley too deep?
Sorrow assails me
Terror attacks
My secret doubts are flooding back.
I'm sinking
I'm drowning
How can I survive?
The grace I once sang of
Is simply a lie.

The God of the Universe
The Creator
The King
The Perfect Messiah
Who "knows everything"
He must have forgotten
He must have blinked
He must have mindlessly
Overlooked me.
My heart is breaking
It hurts to breath
The pain is unbearable
It's blinding me.

The tears ease up
I begin to calm down
I look left
I look right
I peer all around
I feel a gasp catch in my throat
I'm no longer drowning
No longer alone.
My Savior is carrying me
He's holding me close
Wiping the tears away
Whispering His love.

I wonder
I pray I can finally go home
To be with my loved one
To be perfectly whole.
He reminds me
"Not yet,
There's still work to be done
But I will return
When your time has come."
He gently places me
On a safe and sturdy rock
He teaches me to stand again
Teaches me to walk.

There are days I still long
For my heavenly home
For the face I will see
Someday soon.
But for now I am here
Helping others to find
The Grace that has saved me
The Grace that is mine.

Almost...But Not Yet

I feel like I've been on a roller coaster this past month. July is right around the corner and that means it's almost been a year. An entire year.
I'm not sure I'm ready for that.
I feel like everything in my life has centered around July 9th, 2013. It's the time frame I seem to base everything else off of. "So and so happened right before Dad died." "This and that happened 3 months after." That's the way my mind has been wired for over eleven months. I feel a bit trapped. Like that date is holding me back. I journaled a while back: "I'm almost ready to let go. Almost ready to move on. To my life. To God's plans for me. To get over and beyond the full cycle of grief. Almost! But not yet...I still ache to let go, [yet] still cling to what had become familiar: the past." When I wrote that, I thought I must be the only one ever to be confused by this emotion called grief. Now I know I am not. I am never alone. The morning after I wrote that journal entry, my pastor said during church: "You are in the midst of a heated battle." As Christians, there's never a time where we stop fighting. And in that moment, I was battling lies.
That all happened a month ago. Fast forward to now. God has shown me that I don't have to have everything figured out. There's no exact timeline for grief. There's no wrong way to grieve. It may be one step forward and two steps back, but I shall rejoice in the progress and not dwell on the pain. And progress has been made.
On Father's day I did something I have yet to be able to do. I wrote down what I remembered. It may seem silly, but the memories that have flooded my head for eleven months, I haven't been able to write down a single one in detail. They would float around in my head and follow me all day long, but for some reason, I couldn't bring myself to write them down. Until Father's day. Here's what I wrote:
"Father's Day.
"I think of homemade buttercrunch ice cream whirring with ice crunching and the smell of salt pungent. A few flies buzzing around and Dad swatting them away with his hand. His gold wedding band catches the light of the setting sun.
"Suddenly, he rears back from his hunched position, clapping his hands in amusement. Laughter explodes from his lungs and the air around us resounds with it. His caramel brown eyes dance as he watches his son perform for the family.
"The ice cream is finally complete. He dips the first spoonful out and fawns over his creation. Four pairs of eager eyes are captivated as he heaps the ice cream into foam bowls. We all praise his masterpiece in unison.
"Father's Day. Not so much mushy gushy as it is about laughter and memories with family."

A Pure Heart

Purity. If you have been a member of a church youth group for any amount of time, you've probably had a Bible study on this topic. This word seems to geared primarily toward teen girls. Remain pure until marriage, wear modest attire, realize your inner beauty, ect. This blog isn't a rehash on all the purity talk you've heard growing up. This is about what God has been teaching me about being and pure and godly lady.

First, purity. There's more than one way for purity to be defiled. For me, I struggle with watching TV that clouds my vision. I mean, let's face it, there's almost nothing to watch anymore. It's all geared toward relationships: breakups and makeups, backstabbing. The drama is endless. Yet, America is captivated. Maybe it's not the junky drama we seek, but a good plot and the rest gets thrown in. That's usually my excuse. I enjoy the characters, the humor, the suspense. And then the producers have to go and ruin it. Oh well, hopefully the drama will speed by so I can get back to the main event. I watch episode after episode and season after season. And the junk that comes with it? It seeps into my head and poisons my heart. The things that appall me aren't as appalling anymore. The things that made me sick to my stomach? The feeling is rarer.

This defiles my purity. The TV, books, and music that the world listens to play with sin. And when we go along with it, trying to overlook the lies and sin, the stench of sin becomes less powerful. We get used to the horror of it all. 

This is a dangerous place.

"Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me." Psalm 51:10

This is my cry. The need for purity reaches far beyond teen girls. It's for everyone. It's a daily battle. The lines less black and white and more grey when we drift from God. When our time with Him becomes less frequent, the area between right and wrong is blurred. 

Next, being a lady. There are many different ideas of what makes a woman a lady. When I think of a lady, I think of someone who is patient, graceful (in word and in deed), pure, and faithful. That's just to name a few. I'm surrounded by many examples of godly ladies. None of them are perfect by any means, but they all seek the Lord with all of their hearts. Those who are married support their husbands through prayer and encouragement. Unlike many marriages over the past centuries, they are not silent partners, yet they are willing to follow their spouse through thick and thin. My mom used to be that kind of lady. But now, it's obviously a bit different. She is an independent lady. She makes the tough decisions and the final calls. 

What ties together all of these examples and all of these woman is obviously that they are all ladies.

So what makes a lady a lady?

Her dependance on God and her devotion to His Word. Being a lady and remaining pure go hand in hand. I wrote in my journal a while back that being a lady "isn't an image to be upheld, but a purity to be pursued..." It's not about how you look or what your life looks like on the outside. It's about who you serve and how you serve Him. 

Stress, Peace, and Productivity

Busy. Busy. Busy. That pretty much sums up the past two weeks. I'm in the process of getting a job, starting a business, studying for finals, coaching, and keeping my sanity. I'll elaborate on the first two in an upcoming blog, but first, time management.

Part of being an American in being stressed. So much to do, so little time and money to do it with. We barely have enough time to share a meal a day with our family, let alone a sacred time set apart for God. Let's face it, when life gets hectic and we have to eliminate something, our quiet times are the first to go. God understands, right? He knows we need those extra 30 minutes in the morning to shower, or dress, or even catch a few extra Z's. He's a God of love...yada yada yada...

But don't you crave more?

Don't you desire a more stress free life?

Wait a minute, isn't that what started this in the first place? Stress= Less time= Cutting back on quiet time. Sensible, right? Wrong.

The Bible says our God is a God of peace. He desires us to be productive and godly and relaxed all at the same time. That extra time we spend with him in the morning? He will certainly redeem it. He knows what we need. He works all things together for the good of those who love Him.

For the past few weeks, I've been getting up earlier than ever before to spend time with the Lord. In the past, I've woken up an hour later and been exhausted and half asleep until at least 9AM. I went to bed early, got up late, and felt slow and lethargic throughout the day. Now? For "some reason" everything is different. I get up early, go to bed later than usual and am productive all day. I fully believe it is God blessing me because I'm using the first part of my day to glorify Him. God knows I'm busy. He doesn't sit back and watch me run to catch my breath or chuckle to Himself as I juggle a million different things. He cares about me and thus blesses my time and even my energy. 

I challenge you, get up early at least 3 days in the coming week and dedicate that time to reading the Bible, memorizing Scripture, and praying. And watch God alter your attitude and your entire day.

All Sufficient Grace

Lately, I've been thinking about there past. Reading old blogs and pondering who and what I used to be. Because I'm not the same girl I was a year ago. Not just because of July 9th, but because of every battle, every victory after.
When it first happened, I wanted to thrust everything back to normal. Normal services, normal treatment, normal family time. But...it couldn't really work that way. I mean, not only mine, but many people's lives were shaken sideways and upside down that night. Pieces were broken and torn. There was no going back to the way things used to be. "Normal" wasn't what it used to be. So, I began looking for a new normal.
But...how? How could I feel joy and peace and especially security after having my life fall apart like that?
Lots of prayer. Lots of faith. And lots of time.
I learned patience. There's never a quick fix, or at least a permanent quick fix. Good things come to those who wait. The book of Psalm says over and over again "Wait patiently for the LORD." This generation screams NOW! It needs a quick solution, an easy answer. But there wasn't one. Finding a new normal, a new lifestyle, it took time. I cried, I shook my fists, I easily despaired. But I made it. I'm here. I couldn't believe it at the time, but life has gotten easier, the pain has lessened, and the emotions are less frequent and more controllable.
I also learned a lot about grace. God's amazing grace. The word itself always infatuated me because my middle name is Grace. When I was little, I was especially proud of that fact. But now, I have a new understanding and appreciation for it's true meaning.
The first few months, I tried to be strong. I would feel the emotions coming on and I would swallow them back and raise my head high. I could do this, I could keep it together. I didn't want to be a bother to anyone, especially my mom. She had gone through enough, I didn't want to burden her any more than she already was.
I quickly learned that the only thing worse than feeling hopeless and broken and lonely, is not feeling anything at all.
I quit feeling. Quit living and thus quit loving life. I went into auto pilot, smiling through the days and crying through the nights. It reminds me of the movie Frozen: "Conceal, don't feel! Don't let them know!"
It wasn't long before I learned that I couldn't live like that. This week even, I read 2 Corinthians 12:8-10: "8 Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. 9 But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. 10 That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." I have learned, and am continually learning, that I wasn't made to be strong. I was created to rely on a strong God. When I try to do it on my own, I am incomplete, I fall short and fail. But when I submit to Christ in my weakness, only then can I be made whole. That's my purpose. Not be strong and independent like the world teaches. But to be weak and submissive to Christ. Only then do I find fulfillment and peace.
His grace is sufficient! It's enough! That truth consumes me and fills the voids of weakness and doubt in my life. I will constantly fall short, but Christ has covered all.

The Body of Christ

The body of Christ.

What's the first thing that popped into your head when you read that? Was it that passage in the Bible about Christ being the head and us the parts? Was it a particular person? Was it negative or positive? Was it your church? 

I think a lot of people misunderstand that phrase. I don't think I even fully understand that phrase. But let me share a few things that phrase has come to mean to me.

Firstly, the body of Christ is obviously the church. And as my church family has stressed to me over and over (and over) again, the church is not a building. The church is the people. And my church has come to mean the world to me.

In years past, Sunday morning and Wednesday nights were fun, a time to hang out with my friends. If my mom went, I went. If mom had to stay home, I stayed home. Now, it's so much more. Since Dad has died, church is where I feel safe. My church is part of my family. I'm not only grateful that they were there when I needed them, but they are still here for me even when I don't. When tragedy hit, they were there. And when my family and I struggled to get to our feet, they didn't leave! In the past, multiple men in the church have taken Jonathan hunting or just been with him for hours at a time. I can't begin to explain how much that means to my mom. I mean, the boy lives in a house full of women. He's got to learn to "man up" somehow! 

Another time, my sister posted on Facebook that she needed to get away. Within minutes, someone was in the driveway ready to whisk her away.

For me personally, I miss Dad's attention. That sounds selfish, but I miss having a man in my life. A lot. And you may wonder how the church could possibly fill that gap in my life, but between them and the Lord, they have. They have literally held me when I cried and covered me with prayer when I was certain all was lost. Some weeks, my heart aches for him more than anything, and somehow they know I need that extra encouragement. Even today, the men in my church had the patience (can I get an amen?) to teach me archery. I'm just astounded. Blown away by God's faithfulness through the lives and love of my church.

Then there's the body of Christ outside my church. The body of Christ is never confined to just the names of the people on my church's membership list. Example? My homeschool group. All weekend I have gotten to spend time with them and their families. We compete, we smack talk, we wrestle, we have ridiculous conversations; but it's all encouraging. It all blesses me. I feel safe, I feel loved. I have never before realized how much I value those two things. 

Another thing about the body of Christ, is the fact that through their love and care and devotion, they are pouring into my life. My cup is overflowing. And when your cup overflows, God doesn't want you to hoard it, he wants you to pour that overflow into other people. And that's the best part! Because of my pain and my trials and the love of the body, I get to love on other people that are struggling more than I am! Like 2 Corinthians 8:2 says: "Out of the most severe trial, their overflowing joy and extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity." God doesn't bless his children so that they can be "hoarders". He blesses them that they may bless others. 

THIS is the true body of Christ.

DNow 2014 Recap

I survived DNow 2014!
If you're not a part of my church D-Now stands for "Discipleship Now" and is a weekend set aside for the encouragement of youth, as well as a time of crazy fun and games. We have numerous big group and small group sessions as well as ping pong battles, spoons, and a video scavenger hunt. The theme this past weekend was "Follow Me."
Heading into D-Now, I knew God had something especially for me. It just wasn't what I expected it to be.
All throughout the weekend, as soon as music worship began, my heart would sink to my stomach. I felt so heavy and alone. I wanted to run out and clear my head. I wanted to be released from my pain.
But I stayed. I stood, not singing a single lyric, and let God's truth wash over me. Cleanse me. Heal me. And it worked. Each time I felt Satan attack me, I fought back with the strength God gave me. I had never done that before and it felt like such a victory.
But I didn't let anyone else know. How could I?
Saturday afternoon, during our small group session, I had just finished reading out of 1 Peter 5:7-10 which says: "7 Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 8 Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. 9 Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.10 And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast." I felt so encouraged, like that passage was meant for me. I stopped and let God's Word soak into me. I wanted to hear His voice. Instead, I hear "You have to be strong for Mom, for your friends. Hide it, you can do it on your own. Don't let anyone know you're hurting." I silently nodded as the thought crossed my mind. Then I stopped. No, that wasn't right. NO! That was a lie! I realized I don't have to be strong for anyone, God will give me the strength to fight, but I refuse to wear a mask. Refuse to wear a mask pretending I'm ok when I am not. My family and friends love me and want to help me. Why would I hide from them?
That night, our small group leader encouraged us to share what God had done in our lives that weekend. Tears blurred my vision as I shared how God had strengthened me, how I had taken captive every thought. How loved and safe I felt within my church because I was striving to be open and honest. It's easy to let my emotions overtake me and wallow in my self pity. But in reality, I'm so blessed. I know that at my core, sometimes I just have to fight to remember that fact.
I want to give a special thank you to all the DNow leaders, the speaker, and the band. As well as the godly men and women in my church who bless me with their love and encouragement daily. Thank you!!!

All Kinds of Loss: Hurting Then Healing

There are all types of loss. Loss through death. Loss through decisions. Loss through miscommunication. Loss of identity. Loss of joy, hope. I used to think that death was the loss that hurt the most. But it isn't. When you lose someone, or something, the pain is real and it doesn't come with a scale of one to ten.
I've struggled with numerous forms of loss the past few weeks. And I thought I was going insane. But no more so than usual.
During the day it's easy to set aside those deep, heavy feelings and put on a happy face. Sometimes you even forget for a moment that you're struggling. Life seems so perfect and beautiful.
But at night, I am under attack. I wonder if I'm carrying more burdens than I'm supposed to. I wonder when this knife in my heart will be removed. And most of all, I wonder if I would hurt this much if my Daddy was here.
I try to hold back the emotions welling up, but they thunder around inside of me. What's wrong with me? People struggle everyday, and Dad has been gone for months. Have a truly lost it?
No. This is grief. This is pain. And no two stories look alike. People can tell me to be happy, to move on and let go of the past. But it's usually not the past that plagues me. It's the future.
Will there always be this much pain? This much struggle? Will I ever feel "normal" again?
Yes and no.
John 16:33 declares: "I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." I will have times when I feel like I'm drowning; when I don't think I can keep walking, or even breathing. So I lie still in God's arms. I cry or scream or just breath in and out, because God is holding me. Breathing life into me.
Friday night was a battle, and Saturday morning I was physically exhausted from the struggle. I wondered "God, where are you when I need you? A little help here!" But I've learned you can't heal until you get past the immediate hurt. For about 24 hours, I was hurt. I just survived. But the past couple days, God has revived me and given me words of encouragement through His Word as well as through His children.
Where were they four days ago? Waiting. Because I wasn't ready to heal until I could get past the hurt.

A God of Peace

I am constantly surrounded by noise. My family calls for my attention to "Do this" or "Watch that." My friends call for my attention asking "Come to this" or "Join us in that." Even noisier than that, the world calls for my attention saying "Do this or you won't be good enough" and "Buy this or you'll be an outcast."
It's difficult to ignore all these shouts for attention and notice and press on. But the noise I absolutely cannot ignore is the noise in my heart. The lies bouncing around that I'll never be good enough, that this situation is bound to fail. The uncertainties about tomorrow plague my every thought. The happenings of the day keep me up late into the night replaying themselves over and over again and I wonder what I could have done differently.
People shout to me. Things shout to me. Pain shouts to me.
There is chaos in my soul and a forced smile on my face. I feel hazy and confused and I cannot think straight for the life of me. Where's the peace God promised?
What is peace? If you mean peace in everyday surroundings, that peace is nonexistent on earth. Tragedies, horrors, and plans gone wrong happen daily. You cannot avoid that. People have the wrong idea of "peace". It's not in your surroundings, it's in your heart. In your soul. It's to be pursued.
All the noise I have been feeling is not from God. My mom once said "God is a God of peace." He cannot and will not orchestrate chaos. This confusion is from satan.
Isaiah 44:8 says: "Do not tremble, do not be afraid. Did I not proclaim this and foretell it long ago? You are my witnesses. Is there any God besides me? No, there is no there Rock, I know not one."
God never promised us a life a ease. In fact, he warns us of trials and persecutions. But he did promise peace. "My peace I give to you…"
So in all the noise and all the chaos in my life, I have to take captive EVERY thought and not let the troubles around me enter and consume my thoughts. I have to walk close to the Lord, and as I do, I will daily realize and remember that He is enough. He has overcome. And with that realization comes peace.

The Tip of the Iceberg

I'm so blessed by the siblings God has given me. I bond differently I each one of them and love them all. With Lydia, I get to choreograph dramas. With Jonathan, I get to practice basketball. And with Julia, I get to practice softball.
Dad loved softball. He loved teaching me to slap hit and Julia to pitch. If you never saw Dad on the field, you missed an amazing/hilarious side of him. From connecting with the girls he coached to throwing an occasional hissy fit at the refs, Dad was all in to sports.
For years, he took Julia to a pitching coach. She could pitch almost 50mph before she fractured her back. Right after Dad died, Julia was cleared by the doctor to play softball again. We dabbled in it for a few months, but tonight, we went back to the pitching coach. She was nervous about doing her best. I was nervous about helping her do her best. I'm her catcher now. I'm her coach. I really don't want to blow this.
We get to the pitching coach in Dothan and he's watching Julia and another girl pitch. I start to catch Julia and it's going ok. I look over now and then and watch the guy next to me coach his daughter. I think "Wait, this isn't my job. This is Dad's." It's not really a pity party, just a sad realization. The guy next to me asks where I'm from and what our last name is. I say we are the Whitt's from Abbeville. One thing leads to another and we discover he was Julia's first fall ball coach and knew Dad! I even remember him!bHe asks "How old are you?" I say I'm 16. He asks about my future plans and I tell him I want to go to auburn, become a teacher, and eventually be a missionary to India because God has given me a heart for that nation. I think I surprise him a bit.
I was greatly encouraged tonight by two men who I barely know. They both asked "How's your family." We are great. Like, really. It's tough some days and I get selfish many days, but God is so faithful! He is showing me that through all this, not only do I get to minister through my blog, but also on the softball field. My dad and sister were well known for her pitching. And now people watch to see how we are doing and what we will do next. I get to share Christ's faithfulness in both my words and my actions. That feeling of doing something eternal is like nothing in the world. I am so blessed because not only do I get to play softball with my sister, but I get to minister to strangers at the same time. I'm amazed at the plans God has because I know I'm only seeing the tip of the iceberg.

(In the picture below Dad's trying to tell me how to steal. "Watch the pitcher, and when she turns her back, run. If the catcher throws it, run. Don't get trapped, though." Me: "Dad, I got it. I know how to steal." I'm not a know it all, but he had already taught me everything he knew!)

Thank You!

Six months ago, I started a blog. I used to enjoy writing, but now, I don't know what I would do without it. This blog has blessed me greatly in many ways. 

1) I get to express myself. Before I write, I have a million jumbled thoughts racing through my head. I can't keep hold of any one thought for very long without moving on to another shortly. Thus, I usually end up confused and exasperated. Blogging has helped. When I blog, my thoughts line up nice and (usually) orderly. Not only do you learn what I'm thinking, but I learn what I'm thinking. 

2) I've gotten to use the hardest moments in my life as a way to minister to literally thousands across the globe. I love it when my friends and family share my blog on their Facebook and then their friends tell them how it blessed them, and then I get to hear about it. It has given the purpose for my suffering a name! I absolutely love to hear about my readers. God called me to be a missionary when I was 10 years-old, and He has taught me that blogging is part of that mission work. I have had over 27,000 page views from every continent. I am blown away how God has used me. He's so faithful.

3) These blogs will be saved online forever. So as I get older and forget what I have written or if I ever lose my journals, I still have my blog entries. 

I know that this blog isn't very informative or truthful filled, but this is just to say thank you to all my readers. Thank you for you encouragement and love. Thank you for sharing my blogs and posts. Thank you for blessing my life and giving this hard time an eternal purpose.

My Greatest Fear: Lukewarm Christianity

I've never been so afraid of living life as a lukewarm Christian. As I read "The Screwtape Letters" by C.S. Lewis tonight, God awakened in me a very real fear. The fear of normalicy. Of living life day to day being "good" and going to church and saying a spiritual sounding prayer now and then. This fear sounds irrational and ill founded, but consider this. Which is more difficult to enter the Kingdom of God: The pronounced atheist who doesn't believe in God or heaven; or the man who takes his family to church every Sunday, smiles politely, says prayers at family meals, and even teaches Sunday school, yet has never had faith in God a day in his life? You may be tempted to say the atheist. I disagree. The atheist is unsure of the answer, he can be shown. But the church going man  is so close to the truth, he is certain he's got this church life figured out and no one can convince him otherwise. 

It's so easy to buy into Satan's lie. To be neck deep in church activities, jot down some verses now and then, to say nightly prayers and think that all of that is good. That that's enough. It's not! God isn't satisfied with anything less than ALL OF US. When you become a Christian, you must lay down your life and pick up the cross. It sounds scary, and crazy, and foolhardy. But it's the best decision I've ever made! When I give everything I've got to God, I experience such fullness of joy, and peace, and love as cannot be described! Being in the center of his will is the most beautiful thing in the world. 

But I'm a selfish creature, I have to commit myself to him daily. Sometimes hourly. I cannot tell you how many times I've read the Bible in the morning, left my peaceful room and snapped at someone at the breakfast table. Hurt their feelings or made them mad when I said something I shouldn't. I absolutely hate it when they go on to say, "You need to go spend some time with Jesus. You obviously haven't had your quiet time this morning." And of course I seethingly snap back, "YES, I have!" And what does that do? Prove their point. 

I am a hypocrite and I am a sinner. But that does not justify the moments when I sin. The scariest moments are not those when I've sinned and known it. The scariest moments are when I sin and don't realize it because I'm either spiritual blind or have justified my sin as being ok. 

1 Corinthians 10:12 says, "So, if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall!"

I am weak. I am not enough. I need a Savior and have one. I have to remind myself of these truths daily on my knees. Because the closer you walk with Christ, the better you can hear his warning, the more obvious sin is. 

Discovering Grace

Happy New Year! 

A lot happened to me in 2013. The most obvious thing was my Dad being received into heaven. But the funny thing is, that wasn't the most difficult day of my life. It's the aftermath, the tiny broken pieces scattered, the pain of everyday life that hurts the most. 

It's for my benefit, and mine alone, that I feel the need to recap all that's happened. If the reader feels encouraged, to God be all the glory.

Two weeks before Dad died, I told a friend that my greatest fear was losing someone I loved. I knew that day would come. And when it did, I would hit my knees and discover if my faith was real. That day came sooner than expected, but I'm changed because of it.

I always thought that my faith was as strong as I was. I was a good Christian girl with the perfect life. It was easy to be joyful and easier to be thankful. But when I realized my life wasn't all it was cracked up to be, I also learned that I wasn't as strong or as "good" as I thought. I didn't do anything crazy or wrong, I just finally saw myself for what I really was: a sinner saved by grace. Because it was by grace alone that I made it through July and everyday since then. It wasn't because I was strong, or faithful. It was Christ alone.

I didn't understand what real grace was until after July 9th. Grace is getting something positive that you don't deserve. I could define grace for you all day long, but until you've truly experienced grace, it doesn't make much sense.

Following this discovery, I went through a series of emotional ups and downs in my life. Missing my daddy, and realizing how difficult life was without him. So, I quit. Quit trying. The days were easy enough; do school, smile through dinner, and hide in my room. Church wasn't so bad either, just survive the sermons. But it was the nights I couldn't escape. My problems seemed to be magnified at night. Fear attacked from every side, and the hole in my heart hurt far more than usual. I knew I couldn't live like this. Just going through the motions. I wanted to feel God's love again. I wanted to feel alive. So, I started fighting. Started living again because it was either that or live life in a zombie state; dead but walking around. 

I'm still fighting, still hurting, still overwhelmed at night. The problems don't go away. The pain and anger don't simply disappear. But neither does the grace, nor the love. I don't always "feel" God, but I know he's there. My problems haven't left, they never will. Some will be resolved, but others will take their place. I've realized that life isn't all smiles and sunshine, but I can keep living as long as I walk with Christ. 

I've been reading some books by C.S. Lewis, an atheist who became a Christian because he claims to not have enough faith to remain an atheist. Mr. Lewis knew the pain of losing a loved one; he lost his beloved wife. So, I'd like to share two of his many quotes that have helped me. 

"But pain insists upon being attended to. God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pain: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world."

"God has not been trying an experiment on my faith or love in order to find out their quality. He knew it already. It was I who didn't….He always knew my temple was a house of cards. His only way of making me realize the fact was to knock it down."

God has given me abundant grace this year. As has the body of Christ. I can never say thank you enough to all the love and prayers. This new year, I have just one desire, if I can keep truly living as God has taught me in 2013, then 2014 shall be a great year.