A little something from my journal that I felt led to share:
I need to stop being so selfish; I need to stop acting like a baby. Always thinking about my faults and my flaws and my setbacks and my demons. Jesus paid the price for me – I’m taken care of. That’s why I’m to love him first then others, then myself. For in loving God and others I love myself. Serving God and others is using the gifts God gave me in that I show grace and mercy to myself by allowing myself to take hold of the gifts from God for the sake of others.
I have flaws; a no-brainer. Self-help is not Christianity. Being a follower of Jesus means putting yourself behind you, and taking a step of faith forward towards Jesus. We are no longer enslaved to ourselves because Jesus paid the price for us. He saved us, pinned each and every sin on the cross – I am free.
The only way to claim it is to believe it. The only way to believe it is to act on it. Faith without works is dead.
Walk with Jesus. Listen to Jesus. Let the Spirit speak, shine, and love through me. That is what I have to do.
No, it’s not as easy as that. There is an enemy. But I have hope – we have the victory. All I have to do is keep standing up, in awe of the one who gave it all so that I may have life and life more abundantly. For in Him we are more than conquerors: we are children of God.
Forgive me for my unorganized thoughts, but something just occurred to me. My sister, while sitting on the couch, was bemoaning the fact that she had to get up to get herself food. “I wish I was a baby,” she said. “Life was better back then.”
I wonder, though. It could be argued that babies are the most courageous and patient people on this planet. They enter a world they do not know, they are completely dependent as they slowly learn how to live, how to speak, how to take care of themselves. They take life as it comes, learning slowly and taking into consideration what it means to survive in this world. And they do it with a monumental faith that would be ground-breaking on any adult.
Think about it – when was the last time it was enough for us to trust only one person? To have one love as great as a mother’s love be enough? When was the last time we hungered for what would last us, instead of what would harm us? And when was the last time we took the simple pleasures to heart? When was the last time that we had the pure assurance that everything was going to be okay? Or that something as small as a first step was enough to make us smile? All of these things God calls us to, all of these gifts God wants to give us, and we had them all when we were still being held close to our mother’s bosoms.
Could it then be said that we were closest to God right after we were born? Maybe even before we were born?
I don’t know. Just curious.
It’s easy to forget why we’re here. When life sucks us in to the worries and stress and pain and hopelessness that surrounds us everyday, our purpose disappears. It’s no longer about living – it’s about surviving. The Life that Jesus made real for us sits on the shelf, and the life that the world demands of us becomes first priority. We become complacent, passive-aggressive, and we lose the conviction and fire that moved our hearts to God in the first place. But God never gives up on us, and when His call comes so clearly through the voice of a dear friend and sister, you can’t do anything but wake up.
It’s a movement that’s sweeping the campus, a wave that is building. For over a year, several of us have felt the Spirit moving in some way, that individuals were being prepared for something amazing; the moment for it has finally arrived. The Spirit of God spoke to each and every one of us and said, “This is it. I have called you to this.” Such excitement tore through, but perhaps it’s not just for MIT. Perhaps it’s also for where you are, and I pray that if it is, that you’ll join this wave. For the glory of God, and the good of all people.
Brothers and Sisters,
This is urgent. I am writing to you because you are people I consider family. People that I trust with my spiritual health and I hope know that can trust me with theirs (yours). People who I see as fellow soldiers in God’s kingdom. Continue reading
Forgive me for stumbling over my words when talking about this; I’ve never fully defined this concept, or really talked about it. Only the people who truly know me believe me when I tell them that I’ve been in my “alone place,” which is generally why they’re the only ones who know about it. But perhaps now is a good time to bring the darkness into the light, in a sense, both for me to truly say what this place is, and to bring it outside of me to be examined, questioned, and hopefully in the end, destroyed. It’s the general consensus that it’s good to have some time alone, but for me, it’s mentally, physically, and spiritually draining. The scariest part is not being able to notice until I’m out. Continue reading
It feels like such a novel concept, in a way. The idea that by leaving something behind, there will be more that God will reveal. It’s odd to think about, especially considering it’s the basis of my faith: by putting behind our sinful man, God fills us up with His Love, His Presence; by letting go of this world, He brings us into His Kingdom. But I guess I never, until now, realized that it applies to this. To him. And to myself. Continue reading
Defined by daughtership. Claimed by the One who paid the price to love those who do not love Him. To give us the chance to walk with Him in intimacy with the Father: a life that is dictated by the will of the Father, yet fueled with a love that never grows weak. Led by a promise, protected by an oath, secured in a sacrifice, and assured by the victory: over death, sin, separation from God. And all for the sake of being joined with God, to be called His daughter, heir to the promise and powerful over His kingdom. For when I was reborn, and even now, He says to me, You are My daughter. I love you, and I am proud of you.
I’ve seen the beauty of a new morning, and the depravity that comes with the night. I’ve seen the harsh reality that light exposes in a situation, and I’ve seen the relief of innocence that is protected in the dark. I’ve seen astounding views that show the beauty of Creation and the good in the world, and I’ve seen astounding views that show the evil man is capable of in a dying world. I’ve seen people who inspire, and I’ve seen them do what was previously impossible. I’ve seen people lose their spirits, and I’ve seen them slowly deteriorate under the weight of failure. I’ve seen people being encouraged and the moments of their transformation. I’ve seen dreams die and hearts turn hard. In my mind’s eye I’ve seen things that will never happen, alternate realities where the past happened differently, and dreams that I’m afraid to see come true. All these things that I’ve seen amount to nothing much more than images that come and go, though some are seared into my memory. But that can’t be it. There must be a reason for seeing beyond simply taking in information. And I’m afraid I don’t have the tools to do much more than just see.
I didn’t have time to visit him in the hospital last Friday night. I can’t remember what I was doing, but I was busy, no doubt. I always am. My mother came that weekend, but I should have stayed when I went that morning. I didn’t pay attention in class that I ran back for anyways. I should have stayed to listen. Maybe then I wouldn’t be so guilty for not getting off the bus.
I must have spoken about this before, as it has been a constant theme in my young life, but it is very true that my greatest fear in life is failure. I’m creeped out by spiders and I would prefer not to be at gunpoint, but failure itself is an umbrella under which everything else that is worth avoiding hides. As long as I can avoid failure, I can avoid all other unpleasantness, such as losing friends or disappointing my mother or getting into life-or-death situations. The only problem with this being my biggest fear is my huge aptitude for failure. Continue reading