Tag: Bible

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The Joy of Dance

I remember having to sit through my younger sister’s dance recital rehearsal while trying to do math problems. At age 11, anything girly made me roll my eyes. However, out of the 50 or 60 dances, one ballet dance in particular caught my attention even among the racy jazz numbers and the snappy tappers. I found myself being drawn in by the teen ballet set to Tchaikovky’s Waltz of the Flowers. 

It carried me off into another world where everything seemed better.

The dancers looked genuinely happy. The number was synchronized, artistic, and when I finally saw the dress rehearsal, the white costumes with pink sashes and pink flowers made it all just too beautiful to deny. If this was what dancing could look like, I finally understood why people wanted to do it. “If only I could do that,” I thought. Could I? I wrestled for a few weeks, and then decided. I almost surprised myself when I told my mom I wanted to begin ballet lessons.  

I held tight to the dream of being able to dance like the girls in Waltz of the Flowers, to move with grace. The first year or two of classes revealed my deep love of dance; I danced every chance I could. But when I started competing, I lost sight of why I loved dance in the first place. At competitions, dance was instead about external validation. The hope dance had given me for a better more beautiful world took a backseat until there wasn’t much joy in dance for me anymore; after three years I resigned from the dance team. I couldn’t quite bear to stop dancing altogether though.

Nine years after I quit competing, I did stop altogether. At 25, I simply couldn’t dance. Not because I physically couldn’t. Any doctor would have said I was physically capable. But spiritually, I had nothing left. Without being aware or intentional about my relationship with God, I hadn’t been following Him. I had been consistently careless with my heart and mind, and that summer it caught up with me like a ton of bricks. That’ll slow anyone down real quick.

I had lost all sight of the Lord.

It happened so gradually that it was hard to notice. By the time I did notice, I had stopped even trying to pray. I wasn’t following God’s commands, which provide joy. “The precepts of the Lord are right, giving joy to the heart” (Psalm 19:8). My joy had run out, and I felt it. All of a sudden, everything about my life seemed wrong. I had a vague awareness that I had lost something like innocence but at the time I was blind to the Truth of God. I sought the world’s rational, scholarly answers for why this was happening to me. But nothing satisfied. The truth was, my heart hadn’t received true joy, the joy that comes only from God’s grace and love, for quite some time. What I didn’t know then is that joy is a gift I couldn’t work to give myself. 

Joy is a gift from God. 

It took years for me to make sense of it. All I knew at the time was that I had completely lost strength, mentally and spiritually. I didn’t think that had anything to do with God. Even the thought of attending a dance class right across the street, as I had been, was exhausting. I don’t even remember having hope to dance again. Scripture says, “...Do not grieve, for the joy of the Lord is your strength” (Nehemiah 8:10). However, I was grieving and weak. I was in pain and didn’t know how to escape it. I didn’t know how to come back to God even if I wanted to (I didn’t, and I blamed Him for how I felt). “Joy is gone from our hearts; our dancing has turned to mourning” (Lamentations 5:15). My dancing had indeed turned to mourning; I was lucky just to get out of bed. Having joy was only a distant memory. 

I had no reason to dance anymore.

Thankfully, God is a merciful God. He never stops loving us and He is always waiting for us to repent. He welcomes us back to Him with open arms when we do. He delights in lavishing His gifts upon His children, and by His amazing grace, He restored my joy that was lost. It took years, but eventually I was ready to accept the Truth. In one of my darkest moments, I focused on Truth instead of my own pain, and let go of blaming God. I repented of my sin. Suddenly, I was filled with joy, and I praise God that joy has not left me since. 

About a year later, I slowly started dancing again, taking one class here and another there. I wanted to savor the process this time and to go at my own pace. I was not disappointed. I found that once again, as when I first began to dance, I could express freedom in the movement. I became sensitive again to the beauty and grace of dance that I had fallen in love with at age 11. Dance is an expression of the heart and a wonderful way to express joy. 

Two years ago, I took an opportunity to perform in a ballet. Though I doubt anyone knew it but God, I wanted to perform again as a testament to how far He’s taken me. From the depths of despair to the stage, He stayed with me through it all. 

To express the joy that He restored to me through dance was a gift.

Now I’m in a season of being stirred to dance the way David danced before the Lord, “Wearing a linen ephod, David was dancing before the Lord with all his might,” (2 Samuel 6:14). This year, I’ve had the opportunity to choreograph for a performance. By God’s grace I was inspired with joyful steps and free, expansive movement. I could not have set that kind of piece without the joy of the Lord. This was just a few weeks ago.

Joy is so powerful it often elicits a physical response. Other responses to joy found in the Bible include shouting (Leviticus 9:24), eating (1 Chronicles 29:22), and singing (Psalm 95:1). There are many outward expressions of joy to the Lord; my favorite, as you may have guessed by now, is dancing. 

If I ever doubt that God has restored me and delivered me from sin, I remember how, not so many years ago, I couldn’t even dance one step under the heaviness of darkness. There’s no denying its contrast with the joy that now flows from my spirit, particularly through dance. God worked the miracle of joy in my life. Dance symbolizes my journey of being brought from death to life. And so, I will dance on. 

“You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy,” (Psalm 30:11).  

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The Spiritual Disciplines: Sacred Reading

I’ve been wanting to get deeper in knowing and understanding God a lot more lately. The more I have learned the last few years, the more I want to learn. But, at the same time I can feel myself getting more and more addicted to my phone, my computer, and my TV. The tension can get maddening. Only when I choose to run to the Lord and shut out everything else do I find real rest from the constant barrage of noise. Making that decision and connecting with Him is not always easy though. Sometimes we may need a little help. 

I want to spend some time talking about the spiritual disciplines on this blog, meaning the practices that Christians have used for hundreds and hundreds of years to help them connect more deeply with God, His Word, and with themselves. I know, “disciplines” can sound boring and dull–they certainly did to me until I finally gave them a chance. I had to get fed up first. At some point I got fed up by this surface-deep world full of distractions, ever-ready to destroy deep connection and intimacy. Just one look at divorce rates and loneliness studies speak to lack of intimacy, the byproduct of our human brokenness. With everything around me pulling me away from intimacy with God, I suspect I’m not the only one who longs for depth of connection to God’s love and presence with us. We need connection, we were made for it, for Him. Now, I’m not saying I am great at spiritual disciplines by any means, because I’m definitely not. I’d still consider myself a beginner, but I want to share a few things that particularly help me tune out the noise and connect with God in hopes that maybe they could help you as well wherever you are in your spiritual journey, whether you’re a beginner to knowing Jesus or a lifelong follower of Jesus.  

The first time I learned about sacred reading, or lectio divina, was several years ago. It sounded way too fancy and complicated to me. But the more I learned, the more intrigued I was. The way I understand it now is a structured way to meditate on one passage of Scripture at a time. It’s a way we can converse with God through His Words in Scripture, as they command us to “Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds…” (Deuteronomy 11:18). Sacred reading provides those who practice it with structured time and space to allow a passage to sink into our minds and hearts, allowing God room there to speak to us through the passage. Stick with me. It’s really not as mystical as it may sound.

The hardest part for me is starting. 

For me, it’s most helpful to start without any distractions. This is the part that is usually the hardest, because I have a tendency toward racing thoughts and, like many of us, an addiction to content like online videos and podcasts that I am constantly (and oftentimes poorly) managing. But, if I can get past the hurdles of a distracted mind, the rest of the process of sacred reading is incredibly helpful, convicting, humbling, and restorative in fresh and unexpected ways every time. 

God’s Word truly continues to speak to us, sometimes we just need some help. 

That’s where spiritual disciplines come in. Last year, I kept up the discipline for several months, but eventually it faded out of my daily routine. Since then I’ve started and stopped again over and over, but recently I’ve started back up full force, trying to practice daily and trying not to judge myself about missing a day here and there and just keep going. The important thing is showing up as often as we possibly can. 

Even if we’re distracted, even if we’re tired, even if we’re depressed–even there–God sees us and loves us right where we are.  

The practice of sacred reading can also be very powerful in a group setting, but most often I delve into the Word by myself. I’ll give you a picture of what it looks like to try this ancient, sacred practice that’s really quite simple. When I start, I pray first. I check in with God and tell Him what I’m feeling. Then I thank Him for His love and devote my time in the practice to Him. I pray for focus, wisdom, discernment, and an open mind and heart to what He is speaking to me. I ask Him to reveal the true meaning of the passage to me, and to show me what my responsibility is upon receiving His Word. Then, I will choose a passage of Scripture that I want to read. It could be one verse or several, but before I begin I usually will make sure it’s something I won’t mind reading more than once. Sometimes I don’t skim through it first and just start reading where I feel prompted to read; wisdom and truth can come from reading any passage in the Word. 

Then I’ll read the passage through completely, once or twice, slowly. Then I’ll pause and jot down any notes of things I noticed, have questions about, or want to remember for the next pass. Then I’ll read it again even more slowly, taking notice of individual words, sometimes looking up different translations to gain more context for meaning, and I’ll take time to reflect on what I’m thinking, feeling, or sensing with my pen hovering over paper. I’ll write everything down about what I think a verse means, whether I think it’s “right” or not, just to get all my thoughts out. Then I’ll start responding to God, asking Him if I’m on the right track, and telling Him what Scripture has spoken to me. I’m a writer, and a visual learner, so I’m usually writing this prayer out. I end with thanks to Him for His Word, for interacting with me through it. Though it doesn’t happen as often as I’d like, ideally after that I’ll try to take a moment to be still, not saying anything, just resting in God’s presence. 

Friends, this is one of my absolute favorite ways to connect with God. My brain is so used to study and research, to structure, to thinking through everything, that the structure of lectio divina is enough to keep my brain occupied while my heart has time to commune with Jesus. It’s a wonderful balanced practice in that way, and I hope you are encouraged to give it a try! 

“When your words came, I ate them; they were my joy and my heart’s delight, for I bear your name, Lord God Almighty” (Jeremiah 15:16). 

For anyone who has been confused when they hear things like “talk with God” or “connect with God,” I understand. I totally was too. I was like, “Uh…you sound completely crazy, way too woo-woo spiritual, no way I’m even touching that,” only to go along with life and still feel disconnected from God and not know what to do about it. By showing you the process of sacred reading, a long-practiced discipline in Christianity, I hope it’s become a little less weird and a little more accessible to you. It’s another way to build your relationship with Jesus, to seek Jesus. This is just one way to get started. There are many spiritual practices and not everyone will connect with this one. That’s okay. I wanted to share it because it’s been exceptionally helpful to me and my relationship with Jesus. If sacred reading just isn’t your favorite, in the coming weeks I plan to share other spiritual disciplines as well. 

Don’t wait, start connecting with Jesus today, in whatever way you can! Coming to Him doesn’t have to be done any certain way or be prescribed by any person or any particular spiritual discipline. The important part is coming to Him. 

“Then he taught me, and he said to me, ‘Take hold of my words with all your heart; keep my commands, and you will live’” (Proverbs 4:4).

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Ireland: Part II

I’m reminded every September of my trip to Ireland in 2012, so I thought I’d take some time this month to write about the experience. I’ve traveled a lot in my life, but that trip stands alone by far as the most restorative. As I wrote in Part I, “I had to rely on God to take care of me and keep me from harm” when I went to Ireland solo for two weeks. Just to clarify, this was not something I was very comfortable with, despite the God-nudge to go and the odd sense of peace I felt. In normal everyday life, I thought of myself as fairly independent and self-sufficient. Without really being aware of it, that attitude bled over into how it often was between me and God. But in Ireland, I didn’t know how things worked. I simply wasn’t familiar with the culture or how to navigate it. I wasn’t as able to blend in and take care of myself the way I could at home.

In Ireland, I had no choice but to rely on God’s protection. 

Besides sudden sustained sunshine, meeting only the kindness of people, and finding an elusive electric converter as detailed in Part I, there were many other ways God showed up for me in Ireland. But first, I had to be open to seeing and hearing Him. And that can be really difficult sometimes. 

I first became aware of how alone I was at dusk walking from my B&B in Tralee. I was trying to find the pub in town to have dinner. When I finally found it, the only people I remember seeing when I walked in the door were men. No children, no women. Just rowdy American white men. I was suddenly very aware of my surroundings and went on high alert. What if these guys are gross? Drunk? Violent? Pushy? Invasive? “Rescue me, Lord, from evildoers; protect me from the violent . . .” (Psalm 140:1).

There were maybe only 12 of them, but they seemed to take up the whole restaurant. I watched them ask for pictures with the pretty redheaded waitress, trying not to judge them too quickly. I just wanted to sit at the bar and eat dinner; I didn’t need disgust ruining my palette. I was starving and not about to let them stop me. I mustered all my confidence and marched up to the bar and sat down. Sure enough, they noticed me and asked a million questions, but generally were amazingly respectful (despite a comment or two I overheard about the waitress). Several of them said I was very brave for traveling alone in a tone of awe. One guy who I’d talked to for a while as I ate said that I reminded him of his daughter. That word gave me a lot of comfort. From that point on, I relaxed. I knew I’d be alright and that the guys wouldn’t give me reason to be afraid.   

Both in Dingle and Galway I stayed in hostels, meaning I was given a key to a room crammed with bunkbeds and several strangers each night. Anyone with access to the room had access to my stuff–my plane ticket information to get home was probably the most valuable and I kept my passport on me at all times. But, nothing was ever touched. Among strangers, it was very clear;

God provides protection. “The Lord protects the unwary; when I was brought low, he saved me” (Psalm 116:6). 

While in Tralee I visited the Rose Garden just a week after the annual rose festival. That’s where I met Jimmy who I call “the bike man,” a lovely old Irish gentleman who stopped his bike to greet me and strike up what became a long and very deep conversation. At one point, he said, “we always think about feeding the body, but we rarely take care to feed the soul.” In the green landscape with kind faces everywhere I went, my soul was certainly being fed. I was seeing God revealed on earth through beauty and kindness in the Irish community and it felt fresh every day. Jimmy asked me if I believed in heaven and when I said yes he asked me where it was. I don’t recall what I said exactly, but he smiled and said, “No, love. Heaven is here on earth.” Indeed, God is not somewhere “out there,” He’s right here. “The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress” (Psalm 46:7). 

There was a rumor that the tours of the Ring of Kerry had stopped running for the season, but my bed & breakfast hostess Mary kindly searched for me and found an excellent one. On the bus I met an older man named Michael with his wife. Michael was my buddy both on and off the bus. He told me story after story about his life and his family in his Irish accent, laughing often. He also kindly attempted to use my camera and take a few photos of me (these were pre-selfie stick times!). He reminded me of what my own grandfather would do or say and with the same love in his eyes. I thought how silly it was to be afraid when traveling could be like this. I spotted a quote at the Killarney bus station after the tour written in graffiti that oddly seemed intended just for me, “Fear is the only darkness.” In His provision of Michael to be my kind companion on this day of the journey, God had dispelled all my fears.  

God provides people to be with us on the journey. “Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another” (1 John 4:11).  

On my bus into Dingle, I chatted with two American students sitting across the aisle from me. After I got off the bus, I didn’t know my way so I stopped to look at my map. A dark-haired boy I’d seen on my bus asked if I needed directions and gave exact details as to how to find my hostel. He said he’d overheard me talking about Galway and suggested I go, saying I’d have the “time of my life” there. Then he left. I followed his directions and got to my hostel much more quickly than I would have otherwise–how long would it have taken me to realize I had to walk through a grocery store to get to the street I needed to find? That was a first for me, so probably all day. The dark-haired boy’s guidance and kindness was so vital to my first day in Dingle, even then I recognized it as a way God was looking out for me. And even more so after actually having the time of my life in Galway!

When I got to my last day in Dingle, I hadn’t explored much beyond the town and wanted to see more of the peninsula. I waited hours for a tour only to find out it was canceled because there was a 3-person minimum. I was the only one there. The tour guide, a big, blue-eyed man named John, saw the disappointment on my face there in the Dingle visitor center and had pity on me. He agreed to take me on a short private tour. We got to talking, and I ended up receiving a full tour, with a very special stop that I am still so grateful for, to the most beautiful beach in Ireland, Com Dhineol. It was magical, otherworldly. I must’ve had the most elated expression when I returned to the tour van because John told me that he’d said to himself, “She thinks she’s in heaven.” I quickly replied, “I am!” After many stops at cliff overlooks and beaches and ancient ruins, at the end of the tour the last thing I said to John was, “Thanks for showing me heaven!” He beamed back at me. 

The day I arrived in Galway, I was placed in a hostel room with two teenage girls. They invited me along with them to a club and though I was sleep deprived, at the time I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity. I enjoyed adventuring with them, however, the soul-level peace I had experienced up to that point took a hit. I was suddenly in a fast paced, loud environment and saw things I’d rather not have seen. Thankfully, the next day, I took a tour of Connemara and spent most of the day at Kylemore Abbey, one of the most peaceful places I’ve been. The tour bus driver was extremely nice to me, and let me sit up front, in “the Queen’s Seat.” That tour, like John’s tour, was exactly what my soul craved–space, quiet, and time to enjoy life and the beauty of God’s creation. The day at the Abbey was one of my most joyful, ever. Without delay, God again provided another opportunity for the inner rest and restoration.   

God provides what we need. “But the Lord is faithful, and he will strengthen you and protect you from the evil one” (2 Thessalonians 3:3).

I fell asleep on the bus from Galway to Limerick, the very last leg of my journey in Ireland before heading to the airport. I cannot recall ever falling asleep in public when alone before, or since, for that matter. After two weeks of seeing God work over and over to protect me, I was finally able to accept God’s gift of rest, and trust that He was protecting me even while I slept. But still, it took the two-week journey through Ireland to get there. It takes a journey for many of us to experience and recognize God’s protection. Trusting God is simple but it’s not easy. But, it’s worth every bit of the journey. Press on friends! I encourage you to find His faithfulness out for yourself.  

In Part I, I wrote, “There is something about travel that heightens awareness, that allows us to tap into something that we have numbed ourselves to in our everyday surroundings.” I pray that we might be and remain aware and alert enough each day to notice and appreciate the countless ways God provides for us. 

“Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me” (Revelation 3:20).

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Facing Memories

There’s nothing quite like going through old memories. Have you ever opened an old trunk in your attic or gone through a closet that doesn’t get much use and find things that used to be so important to you but you’d forgotten all about them? My project this week was to go through my childhood room at my parents’ house. I haven’t lived there for about 7 years, and the room is now needed for purposes other than holding the odds and ends I’ve left behind. I had tried to look through some of it over the years, but each time I never got very far. This time, as I sat on the floor, the books, flash drives, CDs, clothes, jewelry, tickets from shows, even my preschool graduation certificate (which I have no memory of ever seeing before), brought up memories that weren’t always happy or easy. In those 3 or 4 hours of sorting, I held each bit of paper, each book–each memory–and really looked at it. When holding some of the items no memories came up, but with the majority, a memory association came right along with it. And there were hundreds of items!

It think the reason why it took me 7 years to sort through my room was simple: I didn’t want to face the past. For so long, I didn’t feel emotionally ready for what I’d find. While I did not have a bad childhood, I shy away from the memories of it. I don’t remember the details of what was said or what was happening externally nearly as much as what I was feeling or thinking about a situation internally. 

As a child I knew that most people didn’t understand and didn’t go through the emotional heaviness I did all the time, and I thought they were SO lucky (and sometimes still do). How horrible I thought it was to care about everything! If you know the enneagram of personality, I tend toward type 4, and often filter memories through my emotions. For me, it is a serious emotional drain to bring any memory to mind at all, happy or sad. I tend to get either very melancholy or very sentimental. 

I think the hardest part about looking back on the past is remembering those specific instances of being so wrapped up in the emotional high or low of the moment that I often didn’t reach out beyond that to seek God. I was selfish with my emotional experiences and often didn’t let God, or other people, into them. Let’s just say a lot of bad poetry was written.  

Where was God?

I can point to a handful of moments where I absolutely can say, “God was speaking to me,” but it’s sad to me that my memories primarily hold the turmoil I went through. I simply didn’t know how to deal with it or let anyone in to help. I tried to just deal with interior struggles on my own. When it got very bad, I do recall praying for God’s help. Until I got older and started having doubts, I knew for sure He heard me. And now again as an adult, I know He heard me and He hears you as well. He is compassionate and forgiving no matter the messes we’ve made or find ourselves in. I do wish now that I had invited God along for the whole range of emotions back then instead of waiting for disaster, but it’s not worth dwelling on those sort of thoughts for too long, friends. All we can ever do is the next thing, right now. We can be so thankful knowing now that:

Our past may shape our habits and even our attitudes, but it does not define us. 

Thankfully, I am not defined by my past turmoil and missteps, and neither are you. In God’s mercy and grace, He makes us new. We can rest assured knowing that, while our past is still part of our story and need not be forgotten, it does not have to dictate our present, or our story’s ending. Colossians 3:15 says, you were called to peace. He asks us to put on love (v. 14) for He dearly love[d] us (v. 12). We have the ability to choose peace and love right now, no matter what our past looks like. 

So, as I sat among the scraps of my past, and the memories came, I didn’t get overwhelmed to the point of stopping and closing the door behind me this time. I hung on to these Biblical truths and chose to press on and press through the mess. 

Uniquely You.

It is only when we face the truth about ourselves and our past that we can move forward, grow, and eventually, find peace with ourselves. It is only when we stop beating ourselves down for the difficult things we deal with that we can honor what’s unique about who we are and what we are–beautiful creations of God. Whatever our particular struggles are, God made a way for each one of us to be made new through Jesus; He gives us the chance to have eternal life with Him, where the struggle of our old patterns and cycles of sin is over. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here! (2 Corinthians 5:17). 

However, I found myself needing to repent, as I remembered and condemned the lost and broken girl I was, the one who messed up that relationship there, and said or chose the wrong thing over there. By condemning my past self, I had condemned my current self, for we are not to judge anyone, even ourselves. All those terrible things I’m thinking about myself, although maybe it’s not hurting anyone, it’s dishonoring one of God’s children. I had to ask God’s forgiveness for thinking so poorly of myself, because He didn’t think that about me. I’m not getting away with the sin of hurting someone, even if that person is myself. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of him to whom we must give account. (Hebrews 4:13). We must remember to honor God by honoring ourselves, who He made uniquely and in His very image. 

Gifts from God.

I know now that the very things I always tried to ignore, my emotions, were actually my superpower all along. I was designed to be able withstand heavy emotional situations–grief, despair, anguish, heartache–I’m intimately familiar with them all because I seemed to experience them every single day. Thankfully that is no longer the case…more like every other day. Now I can help people who are going through these emotions. That’s the superpower gift God gave to me. For that, I am deeply thankful. 

Wading through the wreckage of my past this week in my old room, with memory after memory washing over me was difficult, but no longer impossible. I share this to give you hope if you also avoid situations that bring back traumatic memories. It is possible to heal. God has made a way. I found cards from family members that have passed away. I found cards that I wrote to people but never sent. I found photographs of me with people I am no longer in touch with, and books I felt were closer than friends that I would read over and over. But I was comforted by the fact that these draining or painful memories had faded, and would fade again, because now Jesus is my light. He is the light in my heart. He is the reason I can dance with joy again. I will perpetuate your memory through all generations; therefore the nations will praise you for ever and ever. (Psalm 45:17). Through all of time as we know it, His memory lives on. 

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Confidence in The Promises of God

I go through these times when my inner space is filled with noise to the point where being calm isn’t even an option. I’m still very much in the process of learning to actually use the anxiety-reducing “tools” that help–breathing, for instance. I’m not very good at that. Or staying still. Not so good at that either. Or limiting the amount of content I watch in a day or a week. That’s definitely a work in progress. I’m writing to myself today, as much as to you, my fantastic readers, because this week, I’m in one of those states where I just feel scattered. Maybe you’ve experienced this too. It might last a few hours or a few weeks, but these are the times when I need to remember the Truth of God’s promises the most. 

When I’m feeling this way, it’s easy to forget God entirely and focus on myself. This is what’s so dangerous about it. It’s easy to only hear the noise and feel that God isn’t there after all, and pretty soon my mind starts telling me that He’s not speaking to me, that He’s disappointed in me, or that He’s punishing me. My mind goes there, 0 to 60, despite all I’ve learned and all I’ve experienced and all the ways I’ve grown spiritually. I still need to pick up my cross daily, just as we all do. I’ve been reminded a lot of this lately, that it’s not a one-and-done deal to follow Jesus. I have to work at it every single day. On days like today, it’s especially difficult because the less my mind can focus, the more prone I can be to self-deprecating lies.  

One particular lie I’ve been wrestling with lately is, the more you do, the better you are. Thinking this is a guarantee of getting into a swirl like the one I’m in. When I’m busy doing things, I hurry. I hurry to try to make a deadline for work or hurry to make an appointment on time or (cringe) hurry through my devotion time. In the book by Alan Fadling, An Unhurried Life, he writes that when we hurry, we’re actually committing violence to ourselves. I think this is at least part of where my sense of being scattered comes from; that violence splinters something in me. It reduces me to being what I can do or produce in a day, instead of being myself. When I commit violence to myself, I’m doing exactly what my sinful nature wants: weakening not only my spirit but also my resolve to treat myself as a child of God, with respect. I start putting myself down, pushing myself to do even more, and losing myself in the process. Needless to say, this is an unhealthy cycle but getting out of it is easier said than done. 

Sure, breathing helps my body to calm down and deal with the adrenaline overload a bit better, it gets a little more oxygen into my overactive brain. Staying still, or stopping activity, can help to diffuse the stress of and in the moment. Limiting content can help keep my brain from being overstimulated. But, none of these tools actually address the real issue, only the symptoms. So, what REALLY helps? What is the real weapon against the lies that can splinter our souls? Along with prayer, the sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God (Ephesians 6:17), is a powerful weapon. In the Word, God provides His promises. I take great comfort in them and the fact that they are True despite every swirl and every situation I may find myself in. Stopping to speak them aloud or meditate on them in my heart brings God into clearer focus. We must never forget to resist the devil, and he will flee… (James 4:7). Here I’d like to share three of my most treasured promises of God (there are hundreds!):

1. God promises to never leave you nor forsake you (Deuteronomy 31:6, Joshua 1:5, Hebrews 13:5). 

When I started believing the Bible is True, I discovered something amazing–there are SO many promises to hope and have confidence in! To discover them while also believing they were True without a doubt was, and is, an unexplainably great gift. When I’m flooded with negative thoughts, remembering His promise never to leave us nor forsake us is a huge comfort. When I feel full of negativity and doubt, it’s easy to feel lost and that God isn’t there. But, the Truth is that He has already promised otherwise. He is there, even when we can’t see it or feel it or experience it, He is with us! We don’t have to do anything to earn it. As my wise sister Abby once told me, it’s not about what you can do; it’s about what He did for us.  

2. God promises that He has plans to prosper you and not to harm you, and to give you hope and a future (Jeremiah 29:11).

When I was experiencing violence to my soul, reading this promise and finally believing it was True was perhaps the most life-giving thing I’d ever heard. It was as if I’d never heard it before; I read it with a new heart, finally ready to receive what God had offered me long before I was even born. I had been at a point where I believed I had no future, that the odds were stacked against me, and that God, if He was there at all, didn’t care. How beautiful this promise was to see with fresh eyes! I had basically given up planning for a future, but took new hope in the promise that God really did have one in mind for me, for, “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (Romans 8:31). 

3. God promises to restore all things (Acts 3:21).

The awareness I’ve gained of the world’s brokenness and my own brokenness can be difficult to bear at times. But thanks to God’s promise, I can rejoice that He will restore it all and that at His appointed time, [t]here will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain (Revelation 21:4). My hope is in Him, who is bigger than any problem you or I may face, and who has promised to restore what has been broken in and around us. What incredible hope we can find in His promises to us! What reason to live and endure and bring His hope to this world! Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything (James 1:2-4). 

It takes faith to believe in the promises of God, it’s certainly not a popular thing. But I’ve tried it the other way and there was nothing for me there. No hope, no meaning, no future in sight. Stepping confidently forward in faith, everything changes and suddenly, all things are possible. Thanks be to God.  

Though an army besiege me, my heart will not fear; though war break out against me, even then I will be confident. -Psalm 27:3

Blessed is she who has believed that the Lord would fulfill his promises to her! -Luke 1:45

Further suggested reading:  An Unhurried Life by Alan Fadling

The Grace Upon Grace blog (www.graceupongrace.space) by Abby King

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How Volunteering with Teens Changed My Life

I remember the day my younger sister brought up the idea of volunteering to me. She had been leading a small group of teen girls at her church for months, and one day, out of nowhere, suggested that I try it too. I had only been attending her church’s services for about a month, and only started following Jesus about six months before that. I imagine I quickly developed a skeptical, almost angry look on my face, the one that I’ve seen on my mom’s face a million times when something doesn’t fit her plans. I don’t remember what I said exactly, but I remember feeling completely blindsided. Why would anyone ever want me to work with teens, especially as someone just starting to rediscover faith? And I’m so socially awkward! I never got along with teens, or understood them even when I was one. Honestly, I avoided them as much as possible, especially after high school. 

“Do they know I’m not like you?” I asked my sister. Abby is bubbly, outgoing, friendly, and cheerful. I was anything but. If she was in, I must certainly be out. That’s why her suggestion to be a leader confused me. Who in their right mind would want me to do what she does? If I tried, I would surely be found out as the damaged person I am and I could already see the awkward scene. The youth ministry staff would come up to me after observing my reticism and say, “Sorry Amy, you’re just not what we had in mind for this after all.” Why would I put myself in that position if I already knew the ending? I shared all these fears with Abby. She knows me better than most people, but she didn’t agree. 

All she said was, “Just think about it. You could just try it out.” Her optimism astounded me. It also gave me a tiny bit of hope. If she thought I could do it, knowing all my issues, then maybe I could. But man, was I unqualified. 

I thought about it a lot and prayed, “God, this is so not my thing,” and, “Can you believe this?” The nudge in my spirit to “just try it” never went away. The nudge grew into a knowing that I needed to say yes. A few weeks later, in November 2016, I decided to go. Just to feel it out. Just to observe. Just to try it.

God has something in mind for us. But first, He asks for our yes. 

I was still very new at learning how to know God’s will and tell it apart from my own. To this day, asking me to say yes to youth group is one of the clearest nudges I’ve gotten from God. I did not want to say yes but I knew, strangely without a doubt, that He wanted me to. So, I did. 

The first day was not clear like the nudge had been. It was overwhelming and loud and I don’t think I said more than a few words to any of the teens. However, the small group discussion I shadowed made me appreciate Abby’s role all the more. She led in a relatable way and was able to bring the discussion back around to the sermon topic when it veered off. I watched in awe. How was I ever going to do that? These girls talked to Abby like they were her best friends, but they barely even looked in my direction. The flashbacks to high school were strong. I wrestled with God later that night, “Is this really where you want me?” I wondered if I could be genuine with these strange earthlings called teenagers who just by their presence brought every bit of adolescent insecurity I had stuffed down over the years right back up to the surface. Sharing my experiences with them, or anyone, was a struggle. The nudge didn’t fade. So, I went again the next week. 

God blesses our obedience.

Right around that time, I read Matthew 18:1-7, in which Jesus uses a child as an example for His disciples to follow as a lesson in humility. His words in this passage spoke to me of starting over, becoming simple like a child again, and repenting of my pride. I knew I was making youth group way too complicated and difficult. I would have to lean entirely on God’s strength if I was going to do this. Nothing about volunteering at youth group were strengths of mine: talking to teens, speaking in front of a group and keeping their attention, understanding Scripture enough to teach about it, and giving advice when I barely knew how to say hello. I was being called to an environment where I had no internal strengths to fall back on, and I could only lean on His. 

In our weakness, God is strong.

Now looking back, I believe He wanted me to learn what that feels like. I had been going on my own strength for so long, getting by on my own limited understanding of what I could and couldn’t do. God invited me to take a rest, a real one. Being strong is exhausting, and it isn’t necessary to be strong all the time because He is strong for us. In my journal, after several months of showing up at youth group, slowly getting to know the teens and slowly letting them know me, I wrote, “I want to be generous, but maybe I’m not. I want to be kind, maybe I’m not, I want to be loving, but maybe I’m just not. But maybe that’s the point. Maybe God actually is made perfect in my weakness, and I could only be generous, kind, and loving because of God–and I’d be made fully aware of it.”  

I did not think that teens were wise at all until I listened to their questions in small group. Gen Z is a lot wiser than I originally gave them credit for. They ask incredibly complex questions about life, keeping me and my co-leaders seeking answers in the Bible. 

The teens and the leaders grew and learned together.

As leaders we weren’t only giving to and serving them, but they were giving so much back to us. We admitted that we don’t have all the answers, but promised to seek the Truth from the Bible along with them. We offered to always help them research their questions, but admitted that we wouldn’t always know the answers. 

The teens pushed us to be smarter, to know the Bible better, and to show more grace. They saw things in fresh ways that we didn’t. They challenged us and still loved us after a sometimes-heated discussion was over. Watching and participating in this week after week showed me what the love of the church looks like. Now, I see teens as some of the most accepting, welcoming, and loving people I know. They are truly the ones who welcomed me back into the church family. Given all my teen-related baggage, I’d call that a miracle. 

If teens were my greeters at the front doors of the church, the other youth leaders were my brothers and sisters sitting next to me in the pews. They accepted and loved me as I was from the very beginning, no questions asked. Every week, they wanted to hear how I really was. They listened when I needed to vent. They never preached at me, they prayed for me, and they encouraged me. I never, not even once, felt a hint of judgment from any of them. Their humility and servant hearts astounded me. 

I was nervous when Abby stepped down a few months in that I would have a harder time fitting in with everyone, but they always made me feel like one of them, even though I felt so painfully different. Their faith and love for Jesus and people inspire me and push me forward. Their lack of judgment eventually helped push me enough to volunteer to give a message, after two years of serving alongside them. I stood on the auditorium stage under bright lights in front of hundreds of eyes, quite a long way from that first awkward day where I had no confidence. The very thing I was so scared of, talking to teens and speaking in front of a group–and here I was, willingly doing both! Jesus’ unconditional love reached right through everyone at youth group towards me. His love, the love of the teens, and the love of the leaders changed everything for me. The love I found at youth group gave me hope for the local church. It gave me a new family and the confidence to be vulnerable.  

A farewell

I am so incredibly grateful for the opportunity the youth ministry gave me to learn and grow alongside teens. God knew what He was doing, inviting me to lean only on His strength. I couldn’t do anything but let God lead my words and actions and not to force my way ahead without Him, every single time. 

Today is my last day at youth group as a leader. What an amazing journey it has been, I have learned so much! Just shy of three years, my time is now up. God has more lessons and plans for me in this new season. I am very sad that my youth ministry chapter is ending, but I also know it’s the right thing. I am forever grateful to God and to the youth ministry staff for giving me the privilege of serving with them. 

To God be all the glory. 

Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. -Proverbs 3:5-6

Don’t let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity. -Timothy 4:12

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Human Goodness: Why We’re Worth It

If you’ve ever thought that you’re not worth saving, I can relate. 

There was a time not so long ago when I thought 100% that I was doomed to fail. I had examined my patterns of thought and behavior long enough to recognize I wasn’t doing what I was supposed to do or even wanted to do all the time, even when I tried. I was selfish, rude, prideful, impulsive, and I couldn’t stop. I thought, 

“The way I’m made, I just naturally do wrong things, and choose ‘bad,’ so what is the point of trying to be so ‘good’ all the time? Why would we need Jesus in the first place if there is nothing about us worth redeeming?”  

Lately I’ve been learning about Christian perspectives of mental health, and I was disturbed to find that some counselors assume that humans are not good. Their perspective would have lined up with this hopeless thought; I’m so glad I didn’t know this back then! It is true that some parts of the Bible seem to teach that humans are not basically good, when read at the surface level and the context is not taken into account. The Bible isn’t shy about admitting that humanity has messed up a lot. But I want to set the record straight. The Truth is that we were made good, meaning we have goodness within us as given by God our Creator. The Bible totally backs this, “God saw all that he had made, and it was very good…” (Genesis 1:31). We humans have goodness in our very beings.

We are inherently good.

To ignore this is to ignore the very essence of our humanity. Origin stories matter. Especially if you’re a fan of superheroes, we love a good origin story; “all he had made” includes humankind, male and female (Genesis 1:27). God’s intention and original purpose for us still matters today, and should not be written off as an obscure detail or overlooked because of the messes that have followed, but instead remain a powerful source of great hope. 

While we all have sin in our hearts and are not all good, the battle between the flesh and the spirit ever-waging within us, God did not make us bad. To believe that we are all bad—where is the hope in that? This is not what the Word of God teaches. The Truth is, His intention was for us to be fully capable to choose goodness, righteousness, and self-control.  

God’s intentions for all humanity were good. No matter what happened afterward, we must remember that He set humanity up in our place of origin and called us good. How amazing! Today, we are still capable of choosing good. God did not intend for us to be dead in sin, but instead to be raised in life with Jesus (Romans 6:11-12). 

Goodness is part of our origin story. 

If God had truly made us entirely “bad” (not good), He would have set us up to fail, and you would have found me today in a hopeless state still thinking my hopeless thoughts. It would have been our ultimate death sentence of doom and despair. Not only is doing that to His Creation not in His loving nature, but what would ever make us able to choose good, to choose the way of His Spirit within us, if we were inherently bad in the first place? How could anyone choose the goodness of Jesus if nothing in our being recognizes, longs for, and cries out for it?

This mirror image effect brings me to my next point, “So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27). If we were created in God’s image as this verse says, and we know He is good (Psalm 116:12, 2 Peter 1:3), Biblical counselors, Christian psychologists, and the like need to take great care. We cannot say to anyone, especially someone seeking help with their mental health, that humans are not at all good. It’s simply untrue.

We were made in God’s image.

It is important to note here that this does not mean that we can redeem ourselves. We still cannot choose only goodness and holiness if left to our own facilities; that story is also illustrated in Genesis. We all still have sin to wrestle with, for we all have a sinful nature. We need God to overcome what is not good in us. Even so, there is still hope for us because God saw the value in us and made a Way to save us through Jesus. Jesus brings us back to the goodness we lost so that we can be found again in the family of God. Jesus acknowledged that we are worth saving by His work on the cross. Our origins in Genesis 1:31 show that we were intended for good. Our original identity, no matter what you choose thereafter, is in the family of God. 

Jesus makes a Way back to the family of God. 

Particularly for those of us who struggle with mental health, we must remember that God provides hope. The beauty of God’s intention for us and the identity of goodness He gave us need to be recognized in the field of mental health, both from Christian and secular practitioners. We all desperately need hope, particularly those who seek psychological help for disorders that perpetuate unhelpful thoughts about ourselves and our identity. Mental health practitioners cannot afford to overlook the hope found in God’s character and what He’s given each one of us. To do so actually means putting their vulnerable patients at risk.

God created us to have hope and created reason for hope.

How hopeful is it that our Creator created us in His very image of goodness! Evil could not fully erase it from us, for God and His goodness is above all things.   

Finding a source of hope that doesn’t depend on a treatment, medication, or doctor is everything. To have hope you do not have to behave a certain way or think a certain way. You simply are worth saving because God made you so, and He made you good. 

“In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires.” -Romans 6:11-12

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