Reading time: 3 minutes
When I was younger, I was pretty flexible. I know most of us can say that - we bent in ways as children that we can’t even imagine now as adults. I was most definitely not the sports oriented kid, though I did enjoy the basketball goal my dad installed above our garage door. And he bought me a bat and glove once. We would pitch and catch and there were times I actually hit a few he tossed. But I was never going to be on a team. I’m much too afraid of things flying at my face ever since I stepped foot in a racquetball court with my older sisters when I was younger. People laugh when I say that, but those echoing sounds of balls bouncing and ricoheting off the walls almost uncontrollably. More than once I found myself backed up into the corner of the bright, white boxed room. Pressing myself into the glass wanting to get out of a room that seemed to grow louder and smaller with each hit. I hated it. But I don’t think anyone ever really knew how much I hated it.
I liked quiet things the most. Books, forts with canopies of greenery because they were in the bushes, riding my bike fast down a street with the sound of wind rushing in my ears and hair, pencil diving into blue pool waters and then bobbing up before diving back under and pushing water behind me as I glided toward the shallow end. Back to flexibility, I remember practicing the splits and sitting with my legs v-ed out in front of me - head and stomach to the floor. I could actually touch my toes back then. And reach past them. It was one of the parts of the Presidential Fitness Test I could actually achieve. Rope climb? Forget it. Pull-ups and the mile? Never. My arms and my endurance have never helped me with anything. Well, maybe endurance. But I think that's a lesson I've haven't fully learned yet. But flexibility? Maybe in ways I never knew.
Stretching and reaching out, past myself. I felt strong. And in a way, it took me outside of myself. Almost like an unfolding of myself that maybe felt like it had been curled up in a ball for whatever reason. The poet Rilke wrote, “I want to unfold. I don’t want to stay folded anywhere, because where I am folded, there I am a lie.” In our child self, there is a part that is our true self. And almost certainly, it gets ripped away somehow. We don’t like to think about it, but it happens. We are sinful humans, learning to love and be good, living amongst others doing the same. Life is wonderful. But also messy and heartbreaking at points. Death, abandonment, divorce, abuse. Pick your turmoil, you have it. And in learning to live, to keep going, you chose something along the way to try and protect your child self. But all it ever did was press you forward, one step in front of another they say. And before we realize it, we don’t even remember being a child. Memories lost. Forgotten. Folded up.
Now, at 31, I feel I’m unfolding for the first time since a child. I’ve started doing yoga in the morning and evenings. Say what you will about the practice, and be assured I’m thinking of no higher power than my God. And the flexibility I felt as a kid, where I felt stronger and outside of myself? It’s coming back. My stomach and head can’t reach the floor, yet. I can’t sit with my legs outstretched and reach past them, yet. But in between the deep breathes and stretches, I’m unfolding. Standing taller a little more each day. Stepping into days that seem to expand and not close in around me. Still stepping forward each new day, yet somehow looking back and the child that once felt far away? She gets a little closer each time I turn around.
NEEDTOBREATHE released a new album this week, Out of Body. One for healing and wonder they say. That it truly is. Here are two songs I can't quit.
Reading Time: 6 minutes
A few days ago I shared one of my favorite posts from the archives, The KitchenAid Mixer Dilemma: A Singleness Story. I was not prepared for the conversations I was to have with both my single and married friends. When I reposted it, I also asked two new questions.
Singles: what is something you haven't done because you feel it's something you can't do because you're single?
Marrieds: what is something you wish you would have done when single that you didn't and would encourage singles to do?
Twitter and Instagram began to buzz, with great discussion, and then to what color we have or would love to have. (Have you guys seen the hobnail one?? It's gorgeous.) And with great tips on how to not drop $300 for one, by using coupons and Kohl cash and then maybe you can snag one for $150 like one of my friends. This still amazes me.
Some were confused on how owning a mixer could be associated with being married. And that's exactly the point: it shouldn't be.
And we aren't exactly talking about owning a mixer here. The KitchenAid mixer is a mixer in my story, but it could be something else in yours. The "mixer" is whatever "it" is in your single life that you think you can't do because you are single. The goal? To do that thing, to "buy" the mixer.
I love movies. And one of my favorite things to do alone (when we aren't in quarantine) is to go to the movies. It's one thing as a single that I've never had a problem or second thought about doing. Eating out at a restaurant? That one took me a little longer, but now it's also something I enjoy every once in awhile. Traveling? Also took me a bit to get comfortable doing that solo, and I've yet to do a whole week or something longer than a weekend by myself. Yet, I heard from one of my friends who has traveled solo several times, but hasn't gone to the movies by herself! It's going to look different for all of us.
The number one thing that my married friends answered with on what they wish they would have done while still single? Travel solo. While you obviously can still do this once married (as with anything), traveling solo has so many perks. You aren't as limited in activities or places you can go. You are free to do or see whatever you desire. And if you're an introvert, it's one of the best ways to recharge. So to the singles who are thinking about that vacation? Take it. And to my married friends who still wish to solo travel? Do it. Carving out that time to still be by yourself is important and never a waste.
Other things my married friends suggested? Start the small business you've been dreaming about, go to the movies, buy a house, build good habits, invest in friends and families. No matter what it was, the sentiment was the same: don't wait, do it now. As one friend said: Buy the KitchenAid. Take the trips. Ignore the stupid rules.
And yes, that is the goal, but sometimes it's harder said than done. I think we first have to break free from the notion that life begins at marriage. It doesn't. You are alive and living now. While having a person to join in on those things may be enjoyable, once a second person is added, the dynamic changes. Today, if single, it's just you. And the only person truly telling you "no"? Is yourself. Everything else can be worked through.
Single friends say they didn't wait to upgrade their bed size (and I long for this day, because a big bed sounds heavenly) or to buy a house. Some literally got a KitchenAid mixer (or a Hamilton Beach if that's your brand). And many are traveling (seriously, take the trip). Celebrate graduating college, that first job, your first apartment. While marriage is a big milestone in life to be celebrated, if we only waited for that moment to be fun and throw confetti? Some of us may be waiting for awhile, or may never dance in it at all. Be brave, "buy" the mixer.
And married friends: Recognize when your single friends are silent, or when they say something that makes them feel something isn’t for them because they are single. Most likely that isn’t true and they can partake even if single. Listen and then affirm them to go for “it.” Whatever “it” may be.
And for both married and single friends, if you're able (and desire to), go to counseling. I'm so glad that one of my married friends added this! She began going once dating her now husband, but wishes she had gone years before while still single. What she shared with me is so true and I echo it, it's so helpful to know who you are as your own person before in a relationship. Some people don't need counseling for this, but I'm an advocate for anyone going if they can. After beginning my own journey two years ago, I can honestly say I know more of who I am now in these first couple years of my 30s, than I ever did in my 20s. Like high school, I was ready to kiss those years goodbye. And I know that I'm better prepared now, than I would have been then, if marriage had been something on the horizon.
Friends, there are a lot of "rules" we have to play to keep up with society, or who the culture thinks we need to be. Single people can adopt or have babies on their own now! We can land amazing jobs or move across the world! At the core of who we are, we are all beings made for community and relationships - and the thing we think we can't do because we are single? That could be the very thing where community is waiting for us.
Where will you find it? What will you be brave enough to "buy" during this time? If it's the copper KitchenAid mixer, get two please. I changed my mind, I don't want the retro blue one anymore.
Two book recommendations, for both those single and married:
+ If you're interested in solo traveling, check out Dream, Plan, and Go by Rachel McMillan! She's written "a travel guide to inspire your independent adventure"!
+ If you want some help in being brave, a little each day, check out 100 Days to Brave by Annie F. Downs. You can start it anytime, but a collective group is beginning August 3rd (this coming Monday) and I'm joining in again! This will be my second time and would love to have some friends join in with me. It's not too late for you to join in - she'll post the first five days on her social media, while you wait for your copy. And it's about $10 on Amazon currently or buy at your favorite retailer!
Reading Time: 6 minutes
A couple of months ago, I felt the Lord leading me to turn the pages of my Bible to those of the minor prophets in the Old Testament. Though minor, maybe in pages and prestige, they are anything but minor in their words. I've been blown away at how I see myself within their verses and urge you to see yourself there as well. The first feeling will be that of defensiveness and desire to pull away, but like I pleaded with you in the last post, don't go just yet. There is good news, there is hope, if we seek it. And we have a promise to find it, but first we must do some hard work. We have to first admit, that yes, I see myself here before something new can begin.
Hosea means salvation and was written to show us God's love for His sinful people. We may be familiar with the story of Hosea and Gomer (the prostitute he was told to take as his wife) but keep going beyond that story and we see even more ways that God's people turn away from Him, and what is to come.
The times of Hosea were filled with people being ruled under wicked kings, heavily taxed, and worshipping idols. The poor were also being oppressed and there was a total disregard for God. Hosea begins with teaching of the justice to come and ends with teaching that blessings come with repentance.
Joel (Yahweh is God) is written to warn and tell of God's judgment to come, but also to plea the people to return to God.
The times of Joel? Kings (and a Queen) power hungry and lacking spiritual guidance. At the start, a plague of locusts come and leave, and come again. Joel urges the people to grieve over their sin, to repent and lament, and then do it all over again. It ends with a promise of restoration and vindication, but not without the judgment of God.
Amos may come from the Hebrew word meaning, "to carry." His words were written to announce God's judgment, as the people had become complacent, (still) worshipped idols, and (still) oppressed the poor.
Israel was enjoying peace and prosperity at this time, but the people had grown selfish and materialistic. There were the very rich and the very poor, those in the former ignored the needs of the latter. The people were self-centered and indifferent towards God. Amos listed out the sins and judgements of the surrounding nations, his people thinking they were in the clear. But then, for Israel:
"For three sins of Israel, even for four, I will not relent. They sell the innocent for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals. They trample on the heads of the poor as on the dust of the ground and deny justice to the oppressed. Father and son use the same girl and so profane my holy name. They lie down beside every altar on garments taken in pledge. In the house of their god, they drink wine taken as fines." - Amos 2:6-8
They were not without sin either. And neither are we today.
So what would the prophets say of us today? What would they urge us to do?
Perhaps from Hosea, we hear how God saves and gives to us. But we cannot ignore that we have squandered and become proud. We ask for help and then say it isn't good enough. We put our trust in men and powers and stuff and circumstances that are not God.
"I cared for you in the wilderness,
in the land of the burning heat.
When I fed them, they were satisfied;
when they were satisfied, they became proud;
then they forgot me."
"You are destroyed, Israel,
because you are against me, against your helper.
Where is your king, that he may save you?
Where are your rulers in all your towns,
of whom you said,
'Give me a king and princes?'"
Hosea 13:5-6; 9-10
What does Hosea urge us to do? Return.
"Return, Israel, to the Lord your God.
Your sins have been your downfall!
Take words with you
and return to the Lord.
Say to him:
'Forgive all our sins
and receive us graciously,
that we may offer the fruit of our lips."
From Joel we hear and see the cycle of sin and we cannot ignore it.
"Hear this, you elders;
listen, all who live in the land.
Has anything like this ever happened in your days
or in the days of your ancestors?
Tell it to your children,
and let your children tell it to their children,
and their children to the next generation."
What does Joel urge us to do? Return.
"'Even now," declares the Lord,
"return to me with all your heart,
with fasting and weeping and mourning."
Rend your heart
and not your garments.
Return to the Lord your God,
for He is gracious and compassionate,
slow to anger and abounding in love,
and He relents from sending calamity.
Who knows? He may turn and relent
and leave behind a blessing...
...everyone who calls
on the name of the Lord will be saved...
there will be deliverance."
Joel 2:12-14, 32
Don't Miss the Promise After the Return
And from Amos we are reminded over and over and over how the Lord will not relent in His judgment. Yet, we still do not return to Him!
"The Lord roars from Zion
and thunders from Jerusalem...
I will not relent..."
Amos 1:2-3, and 6 and 9 and 11 and 13 and 2:1 and 4 and 6.
God urges us to seek Him and live! To seek good and not evil, to hate evil and love good. He knows our offenses, our pride, our complacency. We cannot ignore that we are to be judged for it and we will be.
But there is an epilogue that we cannot miss. A promise that follows our return. Restoration.
"Seek me and live," the Lord says (5:4, 6). Though He knows "how many are [our] offenses and how great [our] sins." (5:12) How we oppress and judge and deprive..."the eyes of the Sovereign Lord are on the sinful kingdom...I will destroy it...yet I will not totally destroy...I will give the command, and I will shake the people..." (9:8-9)
"I will restore...repair...rebuild..." (9:11)
"...I will bring my people Israel back from exile.
'They will rebuild the ruined cities and live in them.
They will plant vineyards and drink their wine;
they will make gardens and eat their fruit.
I will plant Israel in their own land,
never again to be uprooted
from the land I have given them."
Amos 9: 14-15
Do you see yourself here? If you don't, you may not see any need for a Savior. Oh, but I see myself here. And it makes me rejoice even more in Christ who came to usher in this new era of return and restoration. I see myself and my land all over these pages. My prayer, "Come, Lord Jesus. Restore us and repair us." All of this world will be rebuilt one day, but in order to rebuild, the old foundation must be torn away so the new can be laid.
Reading and listening to the pleas of Hosea and Joel and Amos, will you help make way for the new foundation? Make space for the Savior to come in and start laying new rocks for you to stand on. May your life be one that helps hold up the others during rebuild.
He's tearing down and tilling the ground, will you let Him? Leave behind the old foundation.
Return to God, let Him restore you and begin the rebuild.
"He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!' Then he said, 'Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'" - Revelation 21:5
Reading time: 9 minutes
I Have Hated
I have hated.
I've hated situations, circumstances, and yes, people. Like the word love, hate can get thrown around flippantly. Yet, if there is anything I've talked about as much as singleness, it's that words matter. The ones we read, the ones we write, those we speak to ourselves, and especially those we speak out loud to others.
Our world was created by God speaking words. We were given life from breath! That alone is enough for us to know they are powerful and that they matter. But this isn't as much about the words we speak, but those we first think and believe. Which in turn, will influence how we speak out loud or how we keep quiet. And even our actions.
This morning, I listened to The Daily podcast. Put out by the New York Times, it's a podcast usually around 30 or so minutes that focuses on an issue relevant at hand. This morning, it was on the killing of Rayshard Brooks, the man recently killed at an Atlanta Wendy's. (Warning: very strong language.) Protests and riots ensued afterwards in response to the killing, eventually leading to that Wendy's being burned to the ground. When I learned of the incident with Mr. Brooks, my first thought was disbelief. That again this was happening, in the midst of one of the biggest movements of my lifetime - Black Lives Matter.
Okay listen, I know there are lots of feelings surrounding the phrase and organization of Black Lives Matter (BLM). I'm still fleshing out what it all means to me. Reading and listening and praying, doing the "quiet holy work" as one of my friends wrote me one day. Since the death of George Floyd, I've been wrestling with what to say and when to say it. Feeling caught in a damned if I do, damned if I don't moment. So, I stopped worrying about wanting to say the right or wrong thing and started listening instead. My room is full right now of books (not unusual), but almost every space is spilling over with stories and resources about the history of slavery, the civil rights movement, and racism/antiracism. Recent nights I've fallen asleep with a book or my Bible next to me, maybe even hoping osmosis will work in my favor like I hoped in college during finals weeks. Hoping that all knowledge and information would seep into my skin and through my bloodstream to my heart. It's a lot. I'm still overwhelmed every day. And I don't have it all figured out, I probably never will. But I'm listening and I'm reflecting on where I've hated in the past.
Which leads me back to this morning, after listening to the podcast on Mr. Brooks, I thought to myself two things: what is the actual definition of a hate crime and have I hated? Refer back to the first sentence of this post for my answer. Is it yours? Don't pull away just yet.
A hate crime, also known as a bias-motivated crime, is a prejudice motivated crime which occurs when a perpetrator targets a victim because of their membership (or perceived membership) of a certain social group or race. What is crime? One definition is "an action or activity that, although not illegal, is considered to be evil, shameful, or wrong.
So, have I ever directed an uncalled for action towards another person because of what they look like?
Humbly and sadly again I say, yes.
I have hated.
Where do I go from here? Where do I go after admitting this? In the direction that God, my Father, calls me to go. My response should be one that mirrors His attitude towards anything that is evil. And that is towards hating hate.
Psalm 97:10 says, "Let those who love the Lord hate evil, for He guards the lives of His faithful ones and delivers them from the hand of the wicked."
God hates anything evil and violent. It's all throughout Scripture and cannot be ignored. It's what draws out His righteous justice against people and lands - when violence is directed towards His people, but also when those who follow Him are the evil ones. What is violence? Behavior intending to hurt, damage, or kill. While physical behavior is the most thought of and the most evident after it happens, I go back to what I said at the beginning. Our words, spoken or thought, are powerful. What we hear, what we believe, will drive our actions.
We have found ourselves to be on both sides of this, we cannot confidently say there is no evil, or sin, in us. Friend, if you think you can say that, I ask you to sit and ask the Lord to show you the evil inside of yourself. Sit, ask, and listen. Again, don't pull away from it. Don't pull away from Him who wants to do a great work in and through you.
Biblestudytools.com says that, "hatred proves to be a tangible measurement of evil...it's ugliness may extend in any direction." Tangible. It can be engaged through all our senses and cannot be ignored It's felt in the welps of someone beaten. Seen by the countless videos, in our always online, always watching world. Some taste it in the blood that falls from their face or smell it as tear gas surrounds them. We hear it from the shouts of protestors or a man saying, "I can't breathe."
Align & Abide
1 John 4:19-21 says, "We love because He first loved us. Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen. And He has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister."
Treat others the way you want to be treated. It's a lesson we are taught from a young age. The Bible goes further and says we are to love our neighbors as our ourselves and we are to not hate our brothers in our hearts (Leviticus 19:17-18). 1 John 3:15, equates hate to murder in God's sight, "Anyone who hates a brother or sister is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life residing in him." We, I, cannot continue to live being hateful to brothers and sisters, if I truly desire to be in an abiding relationship with God. All of me must align with all of God.
"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom", according to Proverbs 9:10, and, "to fear the Lord is to hate evil," Proverbs 8:13 says. What stands between us and God? Our sin, our own evilness. We must hate evil and kill it within us, and killing it means we admit that that tangible hate is indeed within us. How do we kill hate? Love. But if we are evil, where is love? It comes to us a person, Jesus Christ, who died a tangible death for us. His death was seen by both those who followed Him and those who mocked Him. It was felt by the hands of Joseph who prepared His body for burial and by the hearts of those who loved Him. Tasted in the tears of His family who watched in the shadow of the Cross and smelled as the vinegar wine soaked a sponge. Death was and is felt deeply. It hurts. Evil hurts.
And love heals.
What keeps us from hating evil and jumping into love? Fear of what others might say? Our families? Those who follow us on social media?
John 7:7 says the world cannot hate us! "The world cannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify that its works are evil," Jesus said Himself. If we are standing against evil, fighting to kill it within ourselves, hating what is hated by God, our response is mirroring God's response because He hates hate! He alone kills it because He is love. And if we are mirroring Him, the response of others to us and our response against hate is not against us, but God Himself!
Evil is not ours to repay, that is God's job alone, because He is the ultimate judge. Proverbs 20:22, "Do not say, 'I'll pay you back for this wrong!' Wait for the Lord, and He will avenge you." God hates evil, He will not just let it go. And His judgment will not look like ours, but we can be sure that is right because He is righteous. We cannot repay evil for evil, but we can fight it. We must fight it and we will want to fight it if we wish for no separation between us and Him.
So, how do we fight hate and hate hate? By love.
Remember the command of Leviticus, reiterated by Jesus, "love your neighbor." Love is shown in many ways, but what is it? "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no records of wrongs." 1 Corinthians 13 tells us. Don't miss this part, "Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres." Always. And verse 8 of chapter 13, one of the greatest declarations of all time, "Love never fails."
It is a promise worth holding tight to, but one we will not fully see here. It's what makes the promise and hope of Heaven also great. Think of your greatest love here on earth right now. Got it? That is but a mere taste of the love we will fully know in Heaven.
Love always protects. Trusts. Hopes. Perseveres.
Perseveres. Keeps going. Stays the course. Fights. Against what the world is saying and against what we may have been taught all our lives and especially against what the enemy may be speaking into our lives. We are saved by God in order to do His good work. I'm reminded by believers who've been doing this reconciliation work a lot longer than I have, that as believers aiming to fight the good fight, we are to no longer live as we once did. Titus 3 says, before saving, we were foolish and disobedient, "we lived in malice and envy" and were "hated and hating one another." There is no place for that when we have truly been saved through the kindness and love of God, and Paul urges us as believers to remember this, so we are careful to devote ourselves "to doing what is good...things that are excellent and profitable for everyone." (Titus 3:8)
In the way that death is tangible, my love for others needs to be tangible. Felt with gentle hands that hold others up, heard by words or shouts against evil, tasted and smelled over meals together with people once seen as strangers. Ultimately all seen by a repentant life.
I have hated. Am I now hating hate? Killing it within me? If not, may I fall before the throne of God, and ask Him to search my heart. Are you hating hate? If not, ask why not. What is keeping you from killing the evil within you? Commit a hate crime against your own hate.
Speak against evil. To yourself, to your family, your friends, your co-workers, your local governments. May we find ourselves only on the side of love. Speaking it. Living it.
And hating hate as we do.
Reading time: 7 minutes
Never Uttered Before
A well-known verse (that's actually about church discipline) brought me to a new realization about singleness this morning.
Matthew 18:20 says, "for where two or three gather in my name, there I am with them."
I mentioned this verse is actually about church discipline - and it is within the context of Scripture that it is found. Jesus is speaking with believers to tell them how to treat a fellow believer who sins and that as they are dealing with the issue of sin in another believer's life, He is there with them. It's another example of how Jesus provides strength and peace in a situation that may not be peaceful at all when we invite Him into it. He is affirming believers holding other believers accountable.
I've heard this verse quoted many times, particularly when talking about believers being together in community as the church, or when believers are collectively praying together about one thing. But it stuck in my head this morning, because the enemy tried to twist it - to try and get me to hear something else entirely. The scheme he used on Jesus, quoting Scripture to try and tempt Him, he tried on me this morning.
He wanted me to hear that if I wasn't with another, me being one and not two (with a spouse) or three (in a building with other believers), then I wasn't being seen or heard by God.
So I read the verse in it's context and then sent the enemy on his way with a simple statement that I don't think I've ever uttered before: Jesus has redeemed my singleness.
Mountains and Valleys
My singleness was never going to be redeemed by marriage. I was never going to be redeemed by marriage.
As a believer and follower of Christ, there is no way I would want to believe that marriage was the thing to save me. For what if it doesn't happen? I'm lost forever...literally. Yet, for certain seasons of my life, I've been buying into that lie.
Here's the thing with me and my singleness (and perhaps for other single folks if you ask them): it's been a series of mountains and valleys. For years, maybe more than half my life, marriage was something I never thought of, even through college. I was always surrounded by great friends who I had fun with and kept me laughing. Even when watching friends date, it was never something I felt like I needed. Wanted? Sure, but not needed. I loved my spot at the tables we pushed together in the dining halls, where we would sit and laugh for hours. Sometimes relationships circled around the tables, other times not, but it was never the core of who we truly were. Of who I was. Those times around the tables filled with friends, that was a mountaintop in my single life.
The valley of loneliness didn't catch up with me until after college. Graduation happened, I moved across the country, and for close to a year, I was still doing well. Looking back, I was slowly sliding down the side of the mountain (in one way literally, as I attempted to learn how to ski during this time and it did not go well) into a valley I hadn't quite found myself in before, as I was going to this time. My time in California came to an end and I remember as I was flying back to Alabama, thinking about driving to my apartment. Only, that wasn't where I was going because my apartment in Tuscaloosa, the city that had been my home for five years, wasn't mine anymore. If I had pulled up into that parking space in front of the patio on the left, I wouldn't have seen my things, but someone else's.
After California, I moved back home, rested a little and then started searching for a full-time job (which is a full-time job in and of itself but with no benefits and almost only rejection - another metaphor for singleness, but that would be a whole other post). I eventually found myself in my current home, Mobile, and started settling into a new life here. In a city that I knew I could enjoy, but only had a few people that I knew. My people, my college family, now at this time was spread throughout the state and around the country. Long dinners at long tables were no longer. And loneliness started etching its way into those now empty spots of my life.
Seeking the Summit
As time kept moving for me, a single, it did for my friends as well. Some single, some actively dating. My texts were full of conversations where friends and I talked about trying to find contentment in Christ alone and navigating adult life as a twenty-something. Then slowly, our conversations began to change. Friends were dating, they had a guy and it was serious, what are you doing on this date? The fridge become a collage of announcements and invitations. Weddings allowed reunions that got us all back around big tables again. After one wedding, I remember walking the streets of Tuscaloosa with friends and we talked about how we missed this life. Us together, laughter, let's all move back and be in one place together again. We jokingly, not so jokingly, agreed. Saying we were down for it, but knowing that even if we did, it wouldn't be the same as it had been before. Those small reunions were tiny mountains for me, or at least me walking up the incline from valley, trying to leave it below.
I never quite reached the top, and I never was going to, unless I changed what was at the summit waiting for me.
As birthdays passed and I found myself late into my twenties, I tried to find more ways to get out of the valley. Still thinking the only way out was a relationship and eventual marriage, like a good Christian millennial, I looked to church...and dating apps. Remember the looking for a full-time job analogy? No benefits and only rejection? Here again it applies all too well. Between friends "who only love you and want to see you happy" and apps where conversation lags and drags, the story became the same over and over. Interest, maybe-perhaps, no? Okay, never mind.
I still hadn't changed what was at the top of the mountain, so why did I think this cycle would be any different? There was only one way to finally get out of the valley and beyond the halfway point of the incline that I felt completely stuck on. To change what was waiting for me at the summit.
Single, Saved, Redeemed
So I did. I told friends who loved me (and I do know they love me) that I just wasn't feeling it, that I wasn't in a place ready to or wanting to date. And I deleted the apps.
I looked up the incline still ahead of me, but now eager to take it on and dig my heels in. Because at the top of the mountain now waiting for me? Jesus.
Have I reached it? No, but perhaps today I did reach the next basecamp closer to the summit. Because when I felt the enemy try to twist Jesus' words and use them against me, to make me feel alone, I rejected it and heard Jesus speak instead, "I have redeemed her singleness."
Jesus saved my life many years ago and ever since then He's been redeeming bits and pieces of my story. The empty spots of my life are being filled and not with loneliness or grief or fear or anger. But filled with the life-giving blood of Christ. Slowly, each empty, desolate place is being turned into an oasis of life. One that cannot be ignored or unseen.
My singleness was never going to be redeemed by marriage. I was never going to be redeemed by marriage.
But, praise God, I have been redeemed. May my single self say so.
"Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;
his love endures forever.
Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their story -
those he redeemed from the hand of the foe,
those he gathered from the lands,
from east and west, from north and south.
Some wandered in desert wastelands,
finding no way to a city where they could settle.
They were hungry and thirsty,
and their lives ebbed away.
Then they cried out to the Lord in their trouble,
and he delivered them from their distress.
He led them by a straight way
to a city where they could settle.
Let them give thanks to the Lord for his unfailing love
and his wonderful deeds for mankind,
for he satisfies the thirsty
and fills the hungry with good things."
Reading time: 3 minutes
The book of Hosea is well-known for its story of Hosea and Gomer, the prostitute who Hosea is told to go and marry. But, do you realize that after chapter 3, Gomer is not mentioned anymore within the book? Beyond the rocky love story of a prophet and a prostitute, this is a story about us today. Of how we, like the Israelites, have wandered away from God to other lovers.
I’ve been wanting to rest and sit in the idea of God pursuing me. And the more I sit in it, the more uncomfortable I get. Because I know, like Gomer and the Israelites, I’ve found myself attracted to other “lovers” that claim they can love me back in bigger, better, bolder ways.
So there I run, ignoring the promise of an eternal betrothal of righteousness and faithfulness from God (2:19-20). I choose disgraceful things over glorious ones (4:7) and forget that my stubbornness doesn’t allow me to be led to pastures (4:16).
I am doomed (5:4), when I’m running this way, forsaking Him who does not forsake me and hoping these other “lovers” will help cure the loneliness inside (5:13).
But they will not.
I must return to the One who truly loves me, with the eternal betrothal. The One who leads to wildernesses, we see.
And it seems like a trap at first! What good can be found in a wilderness?
“What good can come from Nazareth?” the apostle would later ask.
Don’t we unknowingly ask this question every time we step into a desert place? Nothing good is what our eyes see first, but then they begin to adjust. Blinking harder as we continue to walk, the ground around us changing before us.
But it can’t be! Water in the desert? And it’s coming from the ground!
The dusty dirt turns darker as the water rises and flows. Our eyes follow the swelling stream and we look ahead. It is pooling together. Now large enough for us to wash ourselves and our dirty feet. Now large enough for us to drink! We can make it, we begin to think.
And what is that pricking our heart? Hope.
This desert wilderness that once held us captive is now turning into an oasis. New life, not certain death.
And we were led here all along.
We must resist going back.
Gomer, it’s believed, finally stopped resisting. Her silence for the rest of the book of Hosea seen as a sign that she stayed and remained faithful to the husband who bought and brought her back lovingly.
I wish to be Gomer and get it right within three chapters, but like the Israelites, I take a bit longer. Israel repents in chapter 6, but it’s not a faithful repentance. Their love has no substance (6:4) and they continue to say all the right things, but don’t do them. Very reminiscent of me today, confusing obedience and sacrifice.
So I ask myself, does my love for God have substance?
There are roots there, but how are they doing? Are they planted strong by the water that pools together in the wilderness or are they rotted?
“As surely as the sun rises, he will appear; he will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” (Hosea 6:3) As surely as the sun rises...
Will my repentance be empty like the “lovers” I chase after, like that of the Israelites? Or will I see the way in the wilderness that springs forth hope and eternal betrothal and never look back?
Reading time: 2 minutes
Something strange has happened the past couple of days. I have felt peace. Specifically, peace pertaining to my singleness. It's not like the "I-don't-care" attitude I had in college or the always "wondering-when-marriage-is-coming" obsessiveness that seemed to dominant my late twenties. But peace.
Yes, still mixed with some cynicism (it's hard to get rid of this) that maybe it's just easier to go this road alone for another 31 years. There is a question that still creeps into my mind every once in awhile, either asked by my counselor or just curious minds, "What is it that I want? What do I desire?" And for the first time in a long time, I can answer truthfully when saying, "Jesus."
He has known me always, but I've known Him the past 23 years. He has walked the path beside me - hills and valleys - every step of the way. And when I'm tempted to quote Green Day by declaring, "I walk a lonely road...but it's only me, and I walk alone...", I know I haven't. There were only some paths I walked where I never looked over for Jesus' face. I know if I had, that I would have been met with kind eyes. Now, when thinking about those times I rejected His invitations, and went ahead of Him on my own, I see a different picture. One of me standing behind Jesus as He looks at me walking ahead of Him, determined to make it by myself. And those kind eyes are filled with tears. Yet, by His grace and because of His love, He kept coming after me. Always with me wherever I went and always ready with an invitation.
I wish I could go back and tell myself to take Him up on all of His offers. To not be ridiculous and selfish, thinking I could do this life alone. But because I didn't accept those, it has made accepting the invitations of today so much sweeter. And I know, that whatever my next 31 years look like, I won't be walking alone.
Reading time: 17 minutes
An art installation that is actually here in a downtown Mobile building - made from debris found in Holt, AL outside of Tuscaloosa, and debris from Hurricane Katrina.
When April 27th appears on the calendar, I always remember. Where I was, what I heard, what I saw. Every year I write out my account of the Tuscaloosa Tornado. To remember and praise God for the protection He surrounded me with that day, but also to grieve. To remember what was lost - the people, the places, the things. We are talking a lot in these days filled with pandemic about what our new "normal" will look like. Thinking of it now, when I walked out of my dorm that Tuesday evening on the campus of The University of Alabama, I was walking out to a new normal. A new Tuscaloosa. Changed in a way we never thought would be.
Below is a post that I wrote shortly after April 27th - it must have first appeared on my old blog, because I didn't start writing here until 2014. I'm so grateful that I transferred this post over - to help me remember. I wanted to revisit it again today, with new thoughts or things I remember throughout in bold. Because as the years go by, and next year a decade, it's going to get harder to remember. But there is beauty in remembering, even when something is hard, scary, and traumatic.
This isn't the most well-written thing I've ever written, but I can tell I wrote it shortly after, because it's so jumbled in parts. It includes some of the most random thoughts - like being annoyed by having to sit in a hallway full of girls. I think now, that was an indication I really wasn't taking this as serious as I could have, until we really knew what was happening outside. But, you'll see that later.
This is just a re-post of a post that I created shortly after the April 27th, Tuscaloosa Tornado. I don't intend to upset anyone or bring up bad memories. This day is one that I both want to forget and never forget, because it gives me a picture of God's grace and protection. This is only my account of that day. Although I didn't lose anything, my home for the past 5 years was torn apart. My thoughts and prayers are with those families who are still rebuilding and putting together pieces of their lives. My thoughts and prayers are also with those families who are without dearly loved and missed members of their families: fathers and mothers, sons and daughters, brothers and sisters.
Hard, scary, traumatic.
April 27th was a beautiful day.
Besides the fact that I had to spend the gorgeous, blue-skied day sitting in class after class, it was a good day. We all knew the potential for bad weather later on in the day, but if it was going to be like the past few days, that was going to blow over with nothing really to talk about.
The Friday before the Tuesday tornado, one had hit through the southern part of the city. It was quick, but at the time we were annoyed to have to go downstairs. I remember we shrugged it off so much - now I see a warning and I don't care if it hits the ground or not, I take it seriously.
Sitting in one of my classes, I told one of my friends that she could come to my dorm if she wanted to and we could ride out the tornado together with my roommates. I told her to come whenever, but that I still had one more class that afternoon unless it got canceled. Like usual, it didn't, so I was preparing to go to class.
Typical Bama student y'all - we always joked that classes never got canceled for anything. Soon to be proven wrong.
Ten minutes before my class, I was sitting in my dorm living room with one of my roommates and my friend that came over. We were watching James Spann on the news as he was covering a storm that was heading toward Cullman, Al. The town that one of my roommates is from. I decided to be a few minutes late to class, because I wanted to stay with her, make sure she was okay and to watch the storm to see what happened. The three of us were watching the TV, not really expecting anything, until we saw it. A funnel cloud form and eventually touch down in Cullman County. We watched as it quickly formed and then as it started making its way through the town. I remember seeing a radio tower fall as the tornado passed over it.
Watching that tornado form on camera was wild. I had never seen anything like it, except in movies. It happened so fast. And the radio tower, I remember driving through Tuscaloosa after the tornado days later and seeing one down on the side of the road. I see both of those scenes in my mind so vividly and think about them every time I see one reaching into the sky while driving now.
My roommate called her parents to make sure that they were okay. When I heard that they were, I decided to go ahead and go to class. I was going to be ten minutes late, but it was the last week before finals, so I figured that I needed to go.
I didn't take a rain jacket because it had not started raining yet and was still pretty blue outside. I walked to class through the wind and got into my class and saw that they were watching a movie. I immediately regretted my choice of coming to class. I sat down and literally about 10 minutes later, a girl speaks up and says that a tornado warning has been issued for the southern part of our county.
I remember all of us looking at my classmate as she said this and then simultaneously looking back to our teacher. One of those moments where it seemed we (young adults so adamant to think for ourselves) were all okay with someone else telling us what to do, almost like simply needing a parent-figure to say it would be okay.
After deciding that we should go downstairs, our teacher makes us all file down into a small first floor area. The warning did not include our University yet, so we then found out it was okay to go back upstairs. Well, being the college students that we are, we all were debating what to do. Stay and review for the final or just forget about it and go home.
I decided to bail and go back to my dorm. Going to that class for literally 5-10 minutes was so not worth it. So, I along with the majority of my class, start walking our different directions. As I'm walking back to my dorm, I noticed that the wind had picked up and there were some sprinkles.
The majority of us left, again probably thinking back to that storm the week before. Thinking we would just get a free afternoon.
As soon as I got to the steps and porch of my dorm, the tornado siren goes off.
The rules of the dorm are, that if you hear the siren, you have to come downstairs. As I was walking in the building, I texted my friends upstairs and told them to come down. The siren then went off and the RA downstairs said for us to not worry about it, but that if we heard another one we should make our way to the first floor.
I get upstairs, put my book bag down, go to the bathroom and come back into the living room as another siren comes on. By this time, I'm just like really! Make up your freakin' mind! I did not want to go downstairs and sit in a hallway with tons of other girls for 3 hours. We had to do that a week before and it was not a pleasant experience. Apparently, when you are in a hallway with everyone else, this is when you are supposed to start being annoying and inconsiderate. Right, perfect timing guys...or should I say girls.
Remembering this makes me see how naive we were and how much we weren't taking it seriously. Also, it may seem like I was annoyed to be in a girls only dorm, but I wasn't - I was just annoyed at the thought of having to be crammed with ALL of them in the bottom floor of my dorm for who knew how long - especially if it ended up being a false alarm.
Anyways, we make our way to the first floor and find our spot in the corner that we had grown very fond of. We make friends with some other girls that we had never met before and start talking. Well, then the phones start ringing, texts come in and talking increases throughout the hallway. We get messages from people asking if we are okay and others telling us there is a bad storm on the way.
There were a couple of guys in the hall with us, and I distinctly remember one saying, "What do you mean there's a Jeep in the pool?" That's when we opened up laptops and started texting to figure out what was happening. Also, I mention James Spann below. I truly think he should be our national weatherman - if we had such a thing. While the death toll got much higher than anyone wanted to see - he and his team truly did help save many lives that day. I will always chant, "Spann, Spann, he's the man, he's our great weatherman!"
We get online to see what is going on and find James Spann once again.
He is our great weather man! I am really glad that we have him doing weather for the area. He has helped and informed so many people! Props and kudos to him!
Please again recite the chant above in his honor.
We are watching the live feed with about 9,000 other people watching online as well. They finally flash to a picture of the tornado heading into Tuscaloosa. I see my two friends who are watching it gasp and put their hands over their mouths. I was thinking, "I've got to see this." So, I leaned over the hallway and peered over her computer screen to see the monster that is coming toward us.
This is what we see.
And the last thing that we hear? That it is heading straight for the University of Alabama.
We all look at each other and pretty much just say that this is going to be a bumpy ride. But as we turn to face the wall and get into tornado position, that one that we learned back in kindergarten, we were all praying that God would keep us safe.
The lights flickered and then everything went black.
There was just the light of cell phones and the chattering of scared students.
We heard loud rushes of wind that we now know were the tornado. It came a mile away from my dorm.
I remember the chatter that had filled the hallway become quieter. Surely that picture was slowly spread through the hallway. I remember some crying, but I remember prayer out loud more than anything. And I remember the wind. Others who have experienced a tornado directly says that it sounds like a freight train when it's right on top of you and a jet plane when you're near it. I heard the jet plane. There are ways memories come back to you, sometimes in the oddest and most random of ways. I can still hear that noise when the wind gets bad outside, or blows through a small crack in a window or door threshold. Even the fan in my bedroom sometimes resembles a siren noise if I focus on it too long.
When we were able to get outside, we saw that there was one tree down and thought that maybe the rest of our town had been spared as well. The power was out and phone lines down. We couldn't get in touch with anyone or find out any information.
We heard initial reports that the hospital was gone and that other parts of 15th Street were gone. The hospital turned out to be fine except for some busted windows.
15th Street however, was very hard hit. It was pretty much gone.
We debated about whether to go to a friends house that was over the River. They had no damage and still had power. Or if we should stay at the dorm. We ended up staying at the dorm that night, downstairs in the common living room. We ate Peanut Butter and talked and listened to different stories that we heard, not really knowing all the truth yet.
Peanut butter. Wow. I don't remember that. I do remember us all piling up in the common room of the first floor, pulling chairs together to make beds. My room was on the 4th floor, and I don't think we were scared to go back up there and sleep - but my room had become so humid from the air outside (we opened our window a lot and couldn't quite get it back down all the way, so it always let in a bit of air with a whistling noise) that the fire alarm/smoke detector was going off. Not wanting to sleep with that noise, we stayed downstairs. Fire alarms now are another thing that trigger me with memories and anxiety. Just the anticipation of one going of - again, it's crazy what the mind and body remember when we don't fully ourselves. Glad it's not the peanut butter.
The next morning, we got up and packed some bags and went to my friend's house. We sat down in her living room and my other friend that was there asked if we had seen or heard anything. It had been 12 hours since the tornado. For 12 hours we had been without power, little phone service, and no news. When we first saw the videos and the pictures, we thought it was unreal. There was no way that our town had just gotten taken out by a tornado.
But, it had.
For the next several hours, as much as we didn't want to continue watching the videos, news, or look at the pictures, we continued to. We couldn't take our eyes off of it. It was all so surreal.
I still have FB messages from that day, on my wall and in my inbox, of people trying to get through any way they could for communication.
Time seemed to slow. That first week after the tornado felt like a month. Classes had been suspended for the rest of the semester. We had the option to take our finals or take the grade we had in the class.
Graduation for those in May wasn't held.
For 6 students at the University of Alabama, tomorrow never came.
I was twenty-two when this happened in 2011, in my fourth year at Bama (I would stay for a fifth year). I don't know if I ever thought about it then, but I should have been a Senior. If I had been on track, I would have been in the group that didn't experience a graduation that May. They were honored at the Fall Graduation, but like the rest of us, classes, finals, graduation - it was all the last thing on our minds.
41 people in Tuscaloosa lost their lives and more than 200 in the state were killed.
The actual death toll for Tuscaloosa County is 53. Denny Chimes on campus rings at 5:13pm, when the tornado came through, 53 times it chimes for those who were lost. 252 were lost statewide.
Thousands lost homes.
Many were missing.
Shelters were set up, search and rescue teams were sent out. The state was declared to be in a state of disaster and emergency.
Although I didn't personally lose anything that day in the tornado. It was still my town. For the past 4 years I have called that place home and now it was destroyed.
For a couple of days I couldn't do anything, but watch the news and videos. And when that got tiring, a funny, Disney movie.
It was hard, scary, and traumatizing.
I finally got up, praised God that I was okay and that everyone I knew was okay. Talked to my parents and many others who called to check on me. And went out to lend a helping hand to those that had lost everything.
I went to Alberta City. I picked up shingles, dug through rubble, carried off limbs.
I helped separate what was to keep or throw away.
I went to Hargrove.
I saw 15th Street.
I served food at the Belk Center. I cooked food.
I went out with the American Red Cross to serve hot food to people in areas that hadn't been reached yet.
I did the only thing I knew to do. I served the people around me. I responded when called.
All of a sudden, the area of need wasn't a plane ride away. I could walk to it.
My mission field was a disaster.
It was where God called me.
Even though it was hard, scary, and traumatizing.
Now, three years later, much of the state has made great roads to recovery. Tuscaloosa is still growing and getting stronger. Parts of the city have been rebuilt, new land put down, and new buildings have gone up. Things look very different in parts of the city and even now when I drive through it, I have to think for a second about where I am. It definitely isn't the same city it was when I was there. But, it is still a city that I call home. That town means more to me than lots of others I've lived in. It will always be like home. And this will always be a time where I stop and reflect on what happened that day in history.
When I visit Tuscaloosa now, I always come up via 43/69 through downtown. Right before I cross over 15th street, the road rises and I look to my right. Down to a skyline that I have seen changed three times. I remember the one from when I came into town as a freshman, the one after the storm, and the one now - after rebuild. I drive through now sometimes forgetting which part of the city I'm in because it's so different than the one I lived in. I remember weeks after the tornado, I was riding with a friend and she said we were on Hargrove - I told her we weren't and she had to correct me. That's how different it looked - I was lost in a city that I knew pretty well. Years later, I would meet a woman in Petal, MS, outside of Hattiesburg, while out doing tornado relief work. I walked to the side of the road as she slowed next to me in her SUV, window rolled down.
"I'm sorry, can you tell me what street we are on?" she asked.
"No, ma'am. I'm sorry, I'm not from here so I'm not sure."
She paused and then slowly, on the verge of tears said, "I've lived here all my life. But I don't know where I am."
Then she drove off, into her new normal.
I don't think I ever expect a day to be any different than the one before it. Days seem the same, mundane. And most of the time, they are. Until a day when it all changes to a normal we never thought would be.
Reading time: 7 minutes
This isn't the Easter I wanted, but perhaps it was the Easter I needed.
40 days ago, Lent began. A time to reflect and embrace the weight of sin and the fragility of life. I don't think any of us expected to be living in the midst of a pandemic while also continuously being reminded that we are but dust, a mere vapor. Death has felt more heavy in the past couple of months than ever before - literally as though it is lurking around the corner not caring who it takes next. But death always feels like that, doesn't it? Quiet, unseen. Until it isn't.
When Christ died on the Cross those many years ago, the disciples were told it was coming. Literally, Jesus Himself told them what was going to be, but the day still came and shock along with it. This man they had put all of their trust into, the One they had left everything to follow, the man they believed would rescue them, still died. They watched with their own eyes from the bottom of that hill as He cried out His last words to the Father and later as the guards pierced His side. They wept and mourned, prepared His body for burial, watched it go into a tomb, with a stone rolled over the entrance.
I wonder how long they sat there outside the tomb or at the bottom of that hill. As all the doubts came flooding in, the questioning of what just happened. He died. He told them it was going to be true, but they never quite grasped it. And now, instead of a saving, there was suffering. And then, quiet. The silent Saturday.
Much of life today feels like the Saturday, because we live in the already, but the not yet. We are in the middle part of the story, each day closer and closer to when Christ comes again. I've always seemed to find myself in the "middle." Growing up, I was the youngest, but I always sat in the middle of the backseat. I was in the middle of ages of my cousins - no one quite my age, but always older or younger. In school, I found myself in the middle of friend groups - never quite in with this one or that. And now in the present, I often feel in the middle of friends who are beginning marriages or celebrating the birthdays of their children. And though we don't know the time or the hour, I'm in the middle of my own life. A childhood gone, but still much adulthood to be seen. I'm here, at an age where Jesus was getting into the groove of doing His ministry - and then the Lord told Him it was time. But His time didn't end, it just went silent for a Saturday.
There are days where our silence, the desperation, the anguish, the troubles and trials of life, seems to last only for a little while, but then there are days it seems to drag on. One Saturday becomes another and another and before we know it, a year has passed. And I'm tempted to believe that in all of that time, God stayed silent. Quiet. Unseen.
But we know by now that things happen even in the dark and darkness doesn't last. Saturday didn't stay silent then and it doesn't now.
At the beginning of the year, I like to pick a word for the year. I don't think about it every day, but it does seem to shape the different seasons throughout the year - because God is funny and gracious like that. My word for 2020 - arise. Also at the beginning of the year, I quietly started praying for revival. For my church, for the world, but I think more than anything, for myself. Arise is defined as coming into being, to stand up. Revival is a reawakening, a restoration. I see now that I can't have one without the other.
Only when revived will I then be able to arise.
But if I'm to be revived and eventually arise , that must also mean I was restored from something.
Where death lurks, sin does also. The result of sin is death. There is no escaping either. Here in the middle, it is what is filling our lives. We become so accustomed to the middle, to sin, that we forget there is a "not yet." We sit in the sin, eventually entangled so much, that we then wish for nothing but darkness. We think that turning off the lights or closing our eyes makes it all disappear, but even in the darkness, in whatever tomb we find ourselves in, something, Someone, is stirring. Revival is waiting.
Saturday after Christ died was silent, but we don't have to be. Not much, if anything, is said about that in-between, middle day. And while we don't know for sure what the disciples did that day, I'm sure there was fear, worry, loneliness, crying, anger even. Remember, the man they had put all their trust into was dead. They saw Him there, they saw the tomb! How else could this end but darkness and silence?
With revival. With victory. With a plot twist that no one saw coming even though they were told so.
And their story is our story. Even when it doesn't look like one we would have written. Like one where we live in a pandemic. One where we can't gather together as the church or with our families. One where our family members die and we can't be near them. One where friends get married and have babies and we can't hold them. Our story is one of a middle that is messy and hard and often full of things we wouldn't chose for ourselves. But the middle is the middle, it's the already, not yet. The middle is not the end.
The middle is the silent Saturday, but we have also seen the resurrection day. The day where the Lord rose making way for us to rise as well. A Holy Sunday where the darkness gave way and light peaked in as the stone was rolled away. Sin's curse of death was broken and what once entangled us no longer needs to bound us. Let sin fall to the ground and weep over it. Not because you miss it, but because now you see how much it was keeping you from God. Let now what once entangled you be gone and in its place find roots that grow deep and wide, keeping you standing firm. Find in sin's place a new vine. A living vine.
Instead of death and darkness, find reawakening and a new place to be. Don't remain quiet and unseen, death is defeated remember? Join the disciples in being overjoyed at seeing the Lord. What once seemed impossible was made possible in their sight. He was there again with them. And by His Holy Spirit, He is here with us now, in the already not yet. And by the promise of His word, He is making a place for us and will come again.
Today, this middle, may not look how I want it to, but it's the one I need. To see Jesus be who He says He would be - resurrected King. Light. The Way. He is my revival and the One who calls out to me, "arise." May it be so.
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Reading time: 3 minutes
Yesterday was Maundy Thursday, a night where we remember many of Christ's "lasts" here on earth. The Last Supper. A foot washing. A garden. A betrayal followed by a denial. All of it prophecy fulfilled. Jesus had entered the city on a colt, with palm branches lining the way. Now, He found Himself kneeling in a garden, exhausted after prayer.
I wonder, would I have stayed awake if He had taken me to the garden? Or would I have stayed watched and looked at Him in bewilderment as He returned with sweat like blood on His face? When I put myself into the story, into the garden that night, I chuckle at the disciples as they sleep. Then want to kick their feet in annoyance and say, “You’re missing it! Wake up and look at your Savior! He is in great agony. For you! Don’t you get it yet?” And I turn, looking over my shoulder toward the entrance of the garden and see Judas approaching. Jesus tells Him to get on with it, a disciple draws a sword and at first I want to take one up alongside him. But I watch as Jesus repairs an ear, says He is the one they are looking for, and is led away. I take a step forward, thinking I should stop them. But then I remember that these things must happen.
It’s how it’s supposed to be. There wasn’t another cup. No other will of the Father. There wasn’t another way. He was the way that last night in the garden, after He had washed their feet after dinner. He, Jesus, was and always will be the way.
Today, Good Friday. We stand at the bottom of a dusty hill looking up at a Cross. Too many times I have not wanted to sit with the events we remember today. I have been one of many who want to immediately jump into the events of Sunday. To rush straight to the empty tomb, towards resurrection and the new light that it brings. Away from the death and back to the life - to the good part.
But Friday is the day that we have placed the word “good” in front of. A day of death is where the good is found? Those two things shouldn’t go together, yet by one the other is found.
I stand with those near the cross - holding both sadness and joy. For the cross of Christ is my bridge to God. Yet, It isn’t enough for me to simply sit beneath it’s shadow, my hands must pick up that blood soaked tree, that rugged cross. He died upon it once and for all, yes. But now, I pick it up in remembrance. Of a sin-filled, empty life that has been put to death. And just as I remembered Jesus in the garden yesterday, I remember Him today on the Cross.
He is still the way.
He, Jesus, was and always will be the way.
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