LOPES UP

Full disclosure: Bawled throughout writing all of this. In the best of ways.

In the past 4 years I have been all over the place--mentally, physically, spiritually, and definitely academically. But today is a monumental day for me and I can't stop rejoicing.

It is decided! It's official! I'm going to Grand Canyon University in the fall!

I want to shout it from the mountain tops. I want to get up in everyone's face and tell them how excited I am. Getting accepted into a university is certainly something worth celebrating, but this feels like so much more than that today. This is a new start for me. A chance to go to college because I'm passionate about my education, not just because it was the 'right thing to do' after high school.

I visited this school almost exactly a year ago and had a definite gut feeling. "I belong here," I thought. I know it was the Lord prompting me, too. "No thanks, God," I thought as I reminded Him that there was NO WAY I was gonna move. It was so far from home! I've lived in Colorado my whole life! I love the people here! What if I can't find a church I love in Arizona? What if it's hard to stay in touch with people back home? What if my husband is somewhere here in Colorado and I'm leaving without a chance of that happening now??

I'm so tired of making decisions based on what ifs, you guys. I'm especially tired of NOT making decisions based on what ifs. It's time to actually trust that God is good, he loves me AND he likes me, and he's gonna be glorified no matter what. My life really is his. I have to move forward in faith and know that even if it feels too new and uncomfortable and difficult at times, everything really is going to be okay. I can no longer put my life on hold because of what ifs. Waiting on the Lord is an action, not an excuse to sit around.

We say we believe God can do ANYTHING and yet we still live stagnant lives where we wait around for blessings and struggles to find us instead of suiting up and facing battles head-on. We put on the armor of God just to sit quietly in a fortress. We forget that we have been set apart in victory already and destined to be more than conquerors long ago.

I would rather have a life that I can truly enjoy than one that's comfortable. I'd rather be put in situations that continually force me to resort to trusting God than ones where he's merely a spectator to the madness of my life. Today I'm celebrating the victory of relinquishing control over what I thought my life should look like. Don't I know after all this time that God's plans are wayyy better than mine? Hasn't he even proved it to me time and time again?

My way of thinking is shifting. I'm done worrying about all the things that are uncertain. I mean, let's face it. I'm over worrying, period. Worry is misplaced trust. And I want no part of that anymore. If I'm worrying about something it means I'm trusting in anything other than God, who's totally got this under control by the way, and I'm super done wasting my time on that nonsense. I'm unapologetically moving forward in the things that make me come alive and it's the most freeing feeling I have had in quite some time. I'm finding out more and more about the character of God as I realize the parts of me that were created to reflect Him.

Today, through tears of joy and freedom and hope, I raise an Ebenezer stone. Thus far, the Lord has helped me. And he's not even close to being done yet.

Treasured in Her Heart

“So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.”

Luke 2:16-20

 

As Christmas quickly approaches, I constantly find myself in awe. I love everything about this season. I can't get enough of it. The lights, the sparkles, the joy... the feeling deep in my soul that everything really is going to be okay. Hope wells up within me. But OF COURSE I am gonna make this post about Jesus--if you know me at all you could have guessed that's where this was going. And yes, I get caught up in the hype of the parties and the lights and the joy and everything, but it's because Jesus is the source of my joy and he is so much more than just hype. I can't help but be excited about him. If anything, this is a cause for celebration.

This month above all others I get to celebrate the birth of a baby boy who would redefine salvation and ravage my heart with his eternal sacrifice. I will never apologize for doing that. I was brought to tears when reading this passage in Luke today (as I am whenever I truly stop and take a moment to realize just how magnificent Jesus is). Every December I am affected by consistent reminders of Jesus Christ. But I have seen some passages in a new light this year as I picture Mary and the things she experienced through the birth of a Savior and shaking of the world.

 

I think my favorite part of the entire passage above is the instance that speaks of what was going on inside Mary's heart and mind. Imagine the roller coaster of emotion! As shepherds, kings, rulers of nations, and anyone else who happened to be passing by came in and witnessed with their own eyes the majesty of this tiny child, Mary was treasuring things up in her heart. She was taking mental pictures of the divine encounters occurring. She witnessed for years souls being awakened because of her own obedience and faith. Out of the chaos surrounding a very controversial pregnancy, Mary had such supernatural trust in her Lord. Now THIS is a woman who knew firsthand the mighty power of God (and by woman, I mean girl, because most scholars put Mary right around the age of 14 when this all went down).

 

As she sat in a filthy stable with a newborn, multitudes came to visit. In Bethlehem, a small town known for raising sheep for sacrifice, came the lamb of God to be sacrificed for us. A king of humble beginnings. The world was shaking with an understanding that the Word had finally become flesh. I know what the presence of God feels like, but I can only imagine the peace that surrounded that little barn. History changed that day. Shepherds cautiously entered to visit a child they had heard about only to be overcome with praise for their God. All who heard about Jesus were amazed. You can't help but be overwhelmed when you meet him ace to face. The astounding faithfulness Mary was exercising was being rewarded over and again as person after person came into the stable to visit the Messiah only to have their hearts shifted forever. She got to see instant fruit from her radical dependence on God. The ultimate affection of her God was something she could fully understand now because of Jesus.

 

What really gets me choked up whenever I think about it is the relationship Mary and Jesus have until the very end of his earthly life. If you don't think it's vital to honor your mother, think again. Jesus, Savior of the world and all eternity, epitomized love to his mom. He knew so thoroughly the sacrifices she had to make to bring him into the world. He knew the audacious faith that ruled in her heart that enabled her to trust in the Lord her God. As a teenage, unmarried girl, she should have been killed for having a baby when she did. This kind of thing usually ended in assumed betrayal and either the woman's betrothed or her parents would have her killed so as to not bring dishonor onto the family. Mary understood that listening to what the angel told her about this baby had to be true or else she would be killed (most likely by her own family). She knew. And she went through with it because she trusted that God was who he said he was. This 14-year-old was the one God entrusted with His son because he knew that she was trustworthy, too. God takes nobodies and makes them somebodies when he knows that he'll be the one getting the glory still.

 

How do you parent somebody who is going to die for your sins in a few decades? Mary went into this whole thing with knowledge that this baby was the Savior of the world, capable of miracles, and still cared for him with such supernatural yet personal maternal instincts. She knew how to care for this beloved son because she was secure in her identity as a beloved daughter. When Jesus, as an adolescent, disappeared for three days, Mary endlessly searched until she found him:

 

"When he was twelve years old, they went up to the Feast, according to the custom. After the Feast was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it. Thinking he was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began looking for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.” “Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “ Didn't you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he was saying to them. Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart."

Luke 2:42-51

 

Jesus seems to have a habit of disappearing for three days and then coming back, huh?

But that's another story...

Mary had an understanding that Jesus was going to shape eternity, and yet her heart was overwhelmed with affection at his obedience to her as his mother. She was worried about a lost child, yes, because she was a good mom. But the things she would treasure in her heart were the examples of Jesus' glory reflecting God's. Imagine the joy and pride she had that day in the temple courts. There's Jesus, who obviously knows everything even as a pre-teen boy, still respectfully asking questions of church leadership and opening up peoples' eyes to new truths. She got to see him do this for many years.

 

At age 33 Jesus made the ultimate sacrifice for us by dying on the cross for our sins. As his battered body hung as a sacrifice to wash away our iniquities, his loving mother stood at his feet. A mommy who new this was the plan from the start still had to suffer and incredible loss. As his blood dripped down and he breathed his final breaths, Mary watched and wept at the loss of her child. No matter how much she knew this was necessary for the salvation of the world, she had to stand and watch as her son whom she loved was tortured beyond compare. The baby she felt kick in her belly was tortured to death before her eyes. The divine understanding she had of God's plan still couldn't quiet her emotions. She looked up to the cross see a now disfigured man groaning in pain she could not mollify and was overcome with grief. In Jesus' final seconds of life he looked down to the wonderful woman who had raised him so beautifully and told her that he loved her. He commissioned John to comfort and care for Mary once he was gone. The Messiah himself, barely coherent because of the crucifixion he was suffering, used his final time to assure his mother would be taken care of (John 19).

 

Jesus' broken body hung on a cross while his mother reflected on the things she had been treasuring in her heart for more than thirty years. She remembered the impact of this tiny child so humbly birthed in a stable in a small town. The infant who instantly changed the disposition of anyone who came into his presence was now dying in front of her eyes to redeem the entire world forever. The boy who awed and inspired the teachers in the temple at the age of twelve was fulfilling the ultimate prophecy. Mary would remember every up and down of a boy's childhood as she watched the very same person die for her sins. This is a woman who entrusted her entire being to God's will.

 

Mary had mountain-moving faith. Faith to put God's will above her own. Faith to raise a child who was the Messiah, knowing full well that God's plan was so much bigger than she could ever imagine. It all started with her faithfulness at the knowledge of a divine pregnancy. A sprightly teenage girl who was pure of heart was the one God entrusted. She trusted God with her everything and He trusted her with the very reason we celebrate Christmas. As I celebrate the birth of my Savior, I am challenged by Mary's life. She knew what it meant to let God get all the glory and shape her life according to HIS will. She trusted God and his words no matter what it meant for the direction of her life. She would follow her God, no questions asked. Because of this woman's exemplary stewardship from the stable to the cross, I am reminded of what a life of faith really looks like. Imagine how our lives would be different if we trusted Him with abandon like Mary did.

Nothing More Rare, Nor More Beautiful

When someone takes a picture of me that I truly like, I say it out loud. Maybe several times. When I look in the mirror and smile because my makeup and hair just WORK that day? Right on. When I save that new outfit I bought to wear on a day that people will see me in it that's allowed. I have to let myself have these little moments, because I get to love myself... for a long time I didn't even used to like myself very much.

It gets thrown in your face that you're different when you are. I was bullied for a long time by thin girls because I didn't get to participate in clothes swaps or wear a bikini at the pool. Boys made lots of rude comments about my undesirability. I've always been big. That's just the facts. I was overweight even as a child and I have never been what anybody would consider to be skinny. I thought for a very long time that it meant I wasn't beautiful, either. It's easy to let other peoples' perceptions of you define how you see yourself (especially when they are constantly mean about it), but that doesn't mean it's right. It doesn't mean that they are right. Different size does not equal different worth.

Every person has high highs and low lows, and my lows were very, very low. I couldn't even accept the tiniest compliment. Some people thought it was false humility, but it truly was just because I couldn't agree with what was being said. Compliments felt sarcastic because there was no way anybody could think that I actually had pretty eyes or an infectious smile. They must have been mocking me, right?

It went on like this for years. It got to a point that I gave into insane dieting and other scarily unhealthy habits. During my second semester of college I lost 45 pounds in a little over 4 weeks. At the time I thought it was something to be proud of, but now I know for sure it was a destructive, terrifying time. Dropping pounds that quickly is DANGEROUS, y'all. But still, losing weight became a crazy obsession. I was convinced that only skinny people get husbands, good jobs, and happy lives. Nobody ever plans to spiral out of control, but down I spiraled anyways. I tried to quick fix my way into a new body and ended up depressed, disconnected, and extremely ill.

I had a migraine for five days and I can hardly even remember it because I was sleeping about 20 hours out of each of those days. I had stopped eating. I called a friend in my desperation and asked her to drive me to the clinic on campus. As I sat in the doctor's office, the IV slowly dripped much-needed nutrients back into my body. I decided in that moment that this destruction wasn't worth it. Becoming skinnier wasn't making me more beautiful at all. Being thinner wasn't a factor of my worth--not in the slightest.

Around the time I left college I really starting seeking the Lord and making Him the absolute priority of my life. Slowly but surely, healing came. Truth came.
I have always been beautiful, and being fat or skinny didn't even have a place in the matter.
There it was. Indescribable relief. Uncontainable joy.

Even now as I sit here and type this out, quiet tears drip down my face for the wasted years of disbelief in the beauty of who I am. For far too long I was concerned with what other people thought or said instead of what I know to be true about the way God sees me. A God who surely does not make mistakes created me on purpose for a purpose. I'm loved and I can't earn more of it because that number on the scale is smaller.

Beauty isn't even about what my waistline looks like. Yours, either. We have to stop letting that even be a part of the equation, people. Otherwise how are we ever going to be happy? 

A beautiful smile is one that is heartfelt, not just one with straight teeth. You can be a size zero or a size 16 your whole life, but it's your kindness, humor, and willingness to just be yourself that will always be what people remember most about you. That little freckle you hate is somebody's favorite thing about your face. Your laugh that you stifle because you think it isn't ladylike might be the one thing that changes the direction somebody's day is going. Be who you are, for goodness' sake. God didn't make you a certain way so you could try and be more like anyone else, or even just more pleasing to everyone else.

I'm on my way, you guys, but I haven't made it. I still have bad days when I get down on myself, sure. But that nonsense can't compete with the truth of who I am in God. NO WAY. Sadness is so fleeting in the presence of God. Depression does not stand a chance. Truth wins out. I'm fearful and wonderful and nothing's gonna ever change that.

So when that picture of me gets posted by a friend and I exclaim aloud, "Aww I look so cute!", please know that my own words are literally healing me. It's not because I think I'm a supermodel. Ha! Definitely not that... It's because I am looking at a picture of a genuinely happy person. A healing, crazy, funny, loud, singing, dancing, big, emotional, imperfect person in progress. I'm worthy. I remind myself as much as I need to because my God reminds me as much as I need it. I finally believe in what I'm saying. I am confident in myself because I am confident in the God who made me the way HE wanted to. From my head to my toes, I love myself. Heck, I even like myself. I like to think that's pretty beautiful.

A Little Pizza Thankfulness

What started out as a long-winded joke has turned into something more like a social experiment and I cannot help but share all of the things I'm learning from this experience. By now, if you know me well and follow me on social networking of any kind, you have inferred that I am a lover of pizza. I have been posting about it every single day this month as sort of a "30 Days of Thankfulness Challenge", only a lot more ridiculous.

Y'all know I'm about this.

I was sitting in my friend's apartment at the beginning of this month and joking with her that I wanted to do a thankfulness a day challenge, but, like, with food every day. It would be hilarious. "What if you just did pizza every day?!" she exclaimed. The idea was born and the rest is history. From that day forward I posted a pizza a day (and will continue on until the end of the month). It has never been a jab at others posting things they are thankful for--believe me when I say that I, too, am truly grateful for my friends, family, job, and Savior. This was always meant to be lighthearted and a fun, silly thing for me.

What I never could have anticipated is the many lessons I am learning from this silliness:

1. When you're vocal about something, people notice.

I have just been posting pizza. That's it. Sometimes my caption will have a pun and other times it will just be straight-up creepy, like I am literally romantically in love with food. Whatever makes me laugh at myself, really. Regardless, people are taking notice that this is a daily thing for me. At least once a day somebody, even multiple people that I know, will approach me in person to inquire about the pizza pictures. Mostly their question is, "What the heck, Sarah?". "I just love pizza and I'm super thankful for it," I respond nonchalantly.

People I haven't really spoken to in years have been coming out of the woodwork to ask me what this is all about.

One day when I was having this interaction with an acquaintance of mine it dawned on me--people are just asking about this because I have a "passion for pizza" that exceeds the normal level human beings should have for a food. Most people love pizza, but they just don't talk about it all the time.

Lots of people love Jesus, but they don't talk about that all the time either.

So I found myself challenged by my own thankfulness challenge. What if I posted so passionately about Jesus every single day? Would people notice that, too? I bet they would. When you are loud about the things that change your life, people want to know why... even if it's just pizza.

2. People are attracted to passion.

And it's contagious. I can't tell you how many people have posted on my pictures or said to me in person how hungry I am making them. I'm making myself hungry, too! Since this joke started I have had pizza at least once a week just from the hunger I'm stirring up in myself. A few of my friends have even tweeted or texted me pictures of them and their kids eating a "meal inspired" by my posts.

Others have unfollowed me on social media because of the pizza bombardment.

When you are passionate about something (especially to a fault), people either jump on the wagon or they jump ship. They either get excited about your passion to a point that it becomes theirs or they bail.

I have found this to be true all of my life, especially when I post about the Lord on Facebook. And I do post about Him a lot. When somebody radically changes your life all the time you simply cannot keep quiet about them. This has turned many people away, and that's alright. It has also made people inquire as to why I post so many Bible verses or talk about Jesus so much.

My passion for Jesus, much like my apparent love of pizza, is unfaltering. I'm not sorry about that.

3. What others think about you doesn't matter--what you know is true about you matters.

I am fun-loving and cannot ever remember a day in my life that I haven't laughed. In fact, I live for laughter. If you know me at all you know that one of my favorite things is sharing this joy with others.

Whether or not people get a chuckle out of my pizza posts doesn't matter as much to me as it did when I started this stupid thing. I know for a fact some are thoroughly annoyed by this by now. That's okay too.

It still makes me smile. And I'm gonna keep doing it.

You might think I'm crazy and over-playing this. Those things are both probably true.

But I'm having great fun coming up with these ridiculous captions and finding the most tantalizing pictures I can. Sometimes it's the highlight of my day. Even on a bad day, I'm posting about pizza and for a moment there is joy. On great days it's just icing on the cake.

When I spend time with Jesus it is always the highlight of my day. Even on a bad day, I'm longing to dive in to the word of God and I find joy in His promises. On great days it's just icing on the cake. I will never be sorry for being a joyful, silly, ridiculous child of God, even when others may not understand.

4. Life was not created to be taken too seriously.
If you aren't laughing then you aren't living. Enough said. You do not by any means have to laugh at my posts, but please, for the love of all that is good in the world, laugh at something.
You'll live longer and you'll love better.

5. Your passion becomes your reputation.

I woke up one morning and had a notification that I had been tagged in someone's status on Facebook. I laughed hard when I read that one of my good friends faced a barrage of questions from her kids as to whether or not I had posted about pizza AGAIN that day. I sure had.

This has unpredictably become something that people are EXPECTING of me. I love pizza. I post about it always. It's a joke that makes me laugh more than anything else. But now it's almost as if people are lying in wait to see what I'm going to say about it next. That makes me laugh even harder.

"Oh yeah, Sarah, the girl who obviously loves pizza SO MUCH."
I'm that girl now.
And I do love pizza. Lots. It's yummy.
I have hyperbolized this love to an insane extent.

It has taken less than three weeks for me to become this person built on a cheesy, saucy, doughy reputation. It will be interesting to see what happens when the month is over and the pizza pictures come to an end (only eleven days left, friends).

When this is all said and done I am still going to be posting about the other thing I'm most passionate about--Jesus Christ. Maybe to the extent that people expect it from me. But my one goal has always been to make Him famous and I'm staking my life on the truth I've found in Him.
"Oh yeah, Sarah, the girl who obviously loves Jesus SO MUCH."
That statement is the one that is categorically true about me. 

6. What you talk about most dictates what you really care about most.
People who do not know me at all could look at any of my social media pages for one second and tell you what I care about most. Right now, I'm sure it looks like that's pizza.

What could people infer that you care about most from what you post?
A dislike of your job?
Your kids?
Complaining?
Jesus?

What you put on the internet is permanent. Even when you delete it, records are kept. Screen captures have been taken. I'm sure you have seen many celebrities still get in big trouble for things they have tweeted, facebooked, or instagrammed for only a second and then deleted. But it's too late by then.

I have made a rule for myself about social media. I will never post anything that I might ever regret. I take a tip from Philippians 4:8 on this one: "whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things." Post about such things.

I will never ever until the day I die regret posting about my Savior, the things He is teaching me, and the many ways He is changing my life for the better.

So there you have it. Unexpected lessons birthed from utter nonsense. God works everything... EVERYTHING (even stupid pictures of pizza) for His good. You can definitely expect me to post pizza pictures for the remainder of the month, because I'm still smiling about it. I'm still SO THANKFUL for pizza. I just never knew how much this absurd endeavor would affect my views of social media, thankfulness, and passion.

Thanks for hanging in there through the goofiness.

Joy Comes in the Mourning

I remember exactly what she looked like. She was still the same girl I had known, but now she was pale and underweight and her hair was gone. She had a few last strands put up in a ponytail, but by the looks of things those would soon be gone too. She had tubes connected everywhere you can connect them and she was wearing her glasses. She smiled when we walked in and that's what I will always remember most. She was still so beautiful when she smiled.

We brought some fun pajamas and slipper socks so she would be more comfortable in that hospital bed. I remember going around the store picking them out because we had to be sure the jammies opened in the front so the doctors could easily get to all of the tubes on her chest that were hooked up to those loud machines. Small conveniences and comforts in a scary situation.

She went in to see the doctor because of some pain and discomfort she was experiencing and had no idea that she would never be able to leave again. They told her it was leukemia and suddenly everything that I knew to be true and good in the world was turned upside down. She had months left. How could God let something this terrible happen to a thirteen-year-old girl who had done nothing but serve him well and love others?

That day when we as a family went to visit Brittany at the hospital was a totally new experience for me. I had only ever been to hospitals to welcome new babies. They were a joyful place to me. I had never walked into a room so unsure of what to expect but cherishing every second nonetheless. I can't remember everything that we talked about because now this was years and years ago (I was eleven), but I do remember one very important thing--we were laughing. Brittany sat there in her bed and we sat on the floor and in uncomfortable hospital chairs and we laughed. For hours, we laughed.

This young girl with a broken body and a full heart just talked and joked with us all day. It felt like everything was okay again for a moment. All of my sleepless nights crying out to a God I wasn't sure was even listening were lost as I watched her laugh until she cried. I distinctly remember a nurse coming in and asking us to quiet down and then she hung out for a few minutes once she got to know us and saw how much fun we were all having.

We hugged Brittany so tight when we said "see you later" and left in good spirits. I don't remember it as a depressing or sad day whatsoever. I remember laughing until my sides hurt.

Then it happened. At the end of school one day weeks later I got the news that she died.
I dropped to the ground and lost it.
It was sudden and wasn't supposed to happen. She was just getting some routine procedure done and something went terribly wrong and she was gone just like that.
I would never see her again.

The coming weeks were the worst ones my family has ever endured. Brittany was my sister's very best friend and now she was gone. How were we supposed to even begin to pick up these broken pieces? How were we supposed to trust that God was good and that he really did have a plan?

In recent circumstances I have been reminded of Brittany and her very short battle. I have remembered so intensely the pain I felt at the injustice of her death. But I have also remembered that day we laughed together for so long. In a time when all I had been doing was crying, I laughed. Hard. It was so refreshing.

I never expected to learn so much from such a terrible situation:

That it's okay to laugh and find relief in comedy even when things look bleak.

You are allowed to process situations however it is healthiest for you to do so.
You never have to feel guilty or apologize for laughing or crying. Or both.

That people who really are there for you will assist in healing your heartbreak the best that they know how, and they aren't prodding to annoy you--they are prodding because they love you.

Sometimes prayers don't get answered the way that I want them to, but that does not change the fact that God is faithful and good.

Joy does come. Sometimes it isn't in the way we expected or even wanted, but it does come.

Sometimes everything just sucks and you need to laugh until you cry because you just need to experience a new kind of tears.

Laughter might not technically heal physical wounds, but it still heals and is never to be stifled. I am who I am because I laugh with those who need to have their hearts healed, even if sometimes that's just me.

Weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning.

Psalm 30:5

Stand Up and Speak Out

Growing up in church I was always so unsure of talking to non-Christians about my beliefs. Almost everyone around me believed the same thing as me, so there was no need to figure out a way to "share the good news". People shared it with me. We all were of one belief and mindset. I didn't know how to express it to those who hadn't experienced it before--especially when they only wanted to speak to me about it for argument's sake.

As I've grown older I have encountered all sorts of people from all sorts of backgrounds and let me tell you, not everyone believes the same way as me. Even when they believe in God, it sometimes is a vastly different version of the one I believe in. They view God as an angry man instead of a benevolent being. They pray to him only when they need things and are disappointed in him when they don't get instant solutions and clear answers.

The God I trust in provides for me, comforts me, and heals me. I have been through too much to believe that there is any such thing as a coincidence. When I was four years old I had E. Coli and I'm still here today. When I was in sixth grade I had West Nile Virus and I'm still here today. I have battled depression and now walk in victory of that daily. I have been handed checks for thousands of dollars right exactly when I desperately needed money. I could go on and on and on about the things that have tried to stop me from flourishing, or even existing, and on and on about the crazy ways everything just always WORKS OUT time and time again.

You don't have to believe that these things are miracles, but I sure as heck am going to. It doesn't make sense that a blood test suddenly shows different results, but sometimes it does. And if it gives me a chance to glorify the God of my salvation, I sure as heck am going to.

I was at coffee with a friend today and as we talked about everything going on in our lives lately I couldn't help but get excited. Because I get to attribute all of the good in my life to the Lord AND trust Him with the bad. He does care and he does listen. EVERYTHING is in His hands, even when it wasn't the work of His hands. We get to thank Him for His goodness while relinquishing the burdens we carry, knowing full well that He is taking care of it.
Taking care of us.

People can argue that there is no God, but they cannot argue with the miraculous evidence of Him that is sprinkled over your life. You don't have to prove that Jesus exists--you get to share the signs and wonders you have personally experienced. Nobody can argue with that.

He has done so much for us. He is doing so much for us. He will continue to do so much for us.
So stand up and speak out.

The Beauty of Not Knowing

If the only thing in my life that never fails is my God, then that's still enough for me.

As the wonderful chaos comes to a close and I graduate from my discipleship/internship program, I am definitely left with more questions than answers. I have learned SO MUCH and matured in a lot of ways. But what now? Just what in the world am I supposed to do now?

The problem with being empowered so much in a year is that now I have the crazy idea in my head that I can do anything. That's very exciting and also very dangerous. I could move to Australia and live it up Hillsong style or I could move to Connecticut and intern at Love146 or I could move and do worship somewhere wonderful.

The scary thing about all of those options that face me is one word: move. What if there really is nothing left for me here? What if I am supposed to stay right where I'm at? I don't know what to do, but I am terrified of just feeling stuck somewhere. I'm frustrated at lack of direction. The stupid world has taught me not to dream for fear of getting disappointed.

I listen to worship and have time to just sit, think, and pray, and still all I can come up with is "I just have no idea" and "You know what God? I still trust you." The most important thing I have learned this year is the beauty of not knowing. And that's an extremely intimidating notion for a control freak like myself. But if I can't trust in God I fall apart.

I hear all the time that "God doesn't show you the whole staircase...just the next step", but what if he doesn't show you the next step either? I find myself praying for clarity and direction and getting nowhere. Then I hear a still, small voice... "Do you still trust me?"

You see, the beauty of not knowing turns into the beauty of trusting which turns into the beauty of faith. For every answer I don't have, I am becoming more okay with that. Call me foolish, call me naive, call me whatever you like. But in the beauty of not knowing, my faith is building. I am finally becoming truly dependent on my God who knows everything. It would be foolish NOT to trust in Him.

People are bad at trusting because time and time again we keep proving to each other that we can't keep true to our words. But we have to stop letting wounds from people keep affecting our view of God. We may not understand why or how, but GOD IS TRUSTWORTHY. All the time. Without fail. When there is nothing in the world I can be sure of, I find surety in my God. I am finally relinquishing control that was never really mine in the first place. And as I trade my worry for freedom, I feel in my heart that I really am going to be okay. 

"So Sarah, what's next?"

"What are you doing after graduation?"

"What do you want to do with your life?"

"I have absolutely no idea," I say with a smile.

Call me crazy, but I think that's beautiful.

Fantasy Flight

For those of you who have been stalking my Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram: thank you for entertaining me all night with your increasingly-frustrated and confused comments on all of my pictures from my adventure to the North Pole. But now I feel as if I have some explaining to do.

I really DID go to the North Pole, you guys. Along with 82 terminally ill, disabled, homeless, or under-privileged children and dozens of other volunteers, I got on the "fastest jet in the whole world" and literally FLEW to the North Pole. Well, actually the United Airlines hangar just outside of DIA decorated as the North Pole. And it was on a Boeing 757.

The event is called Fantasy Flight and United Airlines, partnered with the Starlight Children's Foundation, has been hosting it every year since 1991. Children are invited to come on the adventure of their little lives to meet Santa and receive literally everything they want for Christmas. Let me tell you, there was not a dry eye in the building. You can't help but be affected when you see that much magic in one place.

My mom works for United so she got the tip that volunteers were needed for the event. We went to the hangar on Friday night and set up dozens of Christmas trees, lights, and games for the kids. After many hours of assembling all that Christmas cheer, my own anticipation for the next day was at an all-time high.

I arrived at the hangar yesterday at noon to check in and receive my boarding pass. Much to my delight, our gate number was SNOWFLAKES and our destination really did say NORTH POLE. The little kid in me squealed with excitement (I'm totally keeping that ticket forever).  Once all of the volunteers checked in, we boarded buses to take us to the terminal. We arrived and all of us, clad in gaudy Christmas sweaters and donning Santa hats, pranced to the media room for briefing of the event.

As we sat in anticipation we were given explanation for what to expect from the day. My eyes welled up as I heard about some of the children we would get to love and share some smiles with. Children with blood diseases, physical disabilities, mental disabilities, and cancer. Some others were coming from a women's shelter. My heart was breaking wide open. This event was most of these children's only Christmas this year, and as much as I hate to even think of it, maybe some of their last. As I sat there and listened to the special instructions for the children in wheelchairs, with stomach tubes, etc., I cried. I literally just started trickling a million tears. We were providing so much light in the lives of children who have experienced so much darkness. Immediately I knew this day was going to change all of us.

The volunteers were grouped up and given signs that had different Christmas symbols on them. Candy canes, Santa hats, snowmen, gingerbread cookies, presents, snowflakes, jingle bells, you name it. My group got the angel. "How appropriate," my mom said. I agreed. These signs would correspond to stickers the children would be given once they arrived at the airport so that everyone would have volunteers to help them through security. It reminded me of Vacation Bible School teams. Everyone has a symbol and a leader. This was definitely the most effective way to organize almost a hundred ecstatic children.

When we got word that the buses had arrived we all picked up and ran outside to greet them. As we formed a tunnel and sang Christmas carols, the children started walking into the terminal. Through tears and a smile I sang the most terrible rendition of "Santa Claus is Comin' to Town" I have ever sang. It's hard to carol well when you're trying that hard to keep yourself together. These were the cutest kids I had ever laid eyes on and the wonder in their eyes as they came in is something I will never EVER forget. They knew they were on their way to meet Santa himself. Today was the most special.

We escorted everyone back to the media room for the children to pick up their boarding passes. After being assigned a group of little angels, we were off to security. The ratio was perfect: about one volunteer per child. My little angel was a 4-year-old named Josie and she melted my heart all day long. A special security line was set aside for everyone going to the North Pole, so we all felt like we were getting celebrity treatment. After wrangling all six children through the metal detector we went down the escalators to board "Santa's Train" to get to our gate. Usually only one train to the concourses is running at DIA, but this time the second was blocked off for Santa's VIPs. Once again, star treatment.

Josie held onto my hand for dear life, and I certainly didn't mind. She kept asking questions about the North Pole because I told her I had been there before and I was friends with Santa. I would tell her that I eat cookies with him and Mrs. C all the time and she would put her head to the side and say, "Nah... wait. Are you being joking?! You really do that?!" Adorable. The train took us straight to the concourse at 30mph and we disembarked to find our gate. It was such a sight to see hundreds of people walking through the airport in Christmas attire. I loved all the looks we were getting.

We sat at the gate for almost an hour being entertained by Ronald McDonald himself. My very rational fear of clowns aside, it was a pretty cute show. He did a few magic tricks and the kids were certainly enjoying it all. When it was time to board the plane Josie ran to me and exclaimed, "WE'RE REALLY GOING!" Her outcries mirrored the ones in my heart. We were really going! Santa was waiting!

We got on the plane that had been decorated all over with garland and Christmas appliques, accompanied by flight attendants dressed as elves. Christmas carols echoed over the plane's PA system. I was just as consumed by the magic as the kids were. We sat down and got buckled in. Josie looked out the window and asked questions about the airplane's wings, my favorite toys, and Santa's workshop. When it was time for takeoff she screamed. As the plane ascended into the air, the Captain informed us that reindeer were leading the way. We needed to close all of our window shutters because the North Pole is a super-secret location and we didn't want anyone to see the lights from our plane (really it was because the plane was just going to circle in the air before landing a few miles away from DIA). Every child received a Happy Meal and we all sang more carols together. As the 40-minute flight came to a close the children were antsier than ever.

After landing on "Santa's Landing Strip 1" we pulled directly into the North Pole airplane hangar so we wouldn't get frostbite. Once inside we were instructed to open our windows for a surprise. Santa and several elves circled around the plane in a boom lift to wave and greet the children. There was an uproar. "THAT'S REALLY HIM!!! WE'RE HERE! WE MADE IT!"

We exited the plane and dropped all of the children off in a multipurpose room where a Boy Scout troop would read Twas the Night Before Christmas. This gave the rest of us time to finish setting up the activities the children would do while waiting to meet Santa and receive their gift bags. I was doing a face painting station and there was also a ring toss, cookie decorating, a Blue Bell ice cream bar, a bean bag toss, and balloon animals. I painted the faces of several eager adult volunteers while we waited for the story to finish. Nobody was exempt from the renewed childlike wonder that encompassed that building.

For several hours I painted smiling faces. I asked the children what they wanted for Christmas and if they were having fun. I asked for their names as they sat down so that as my brushes created Christmas shapes onto their little cheeks I could pray for them. Every child who sat in my chair warmed my heart as I prayed for healing, joy, provision, and protection over their own lives and families. It was absolutely the most fun I've had in a long time.

One at a time the kids were called in for the moment of the evening--a conversation with the big man himself. He talked to each child for a bit and then handed them a huge bag full of wrapped presents. Every child received at least ten presents. Good presents, too. Exactly what they asked for. Some even got new bikes! What really had me awestruck was the way none of the kids cared the most about what they got. They were more enthralled by the atmosphere of the North Pole and the jolly bearded man they had always wanted to meet. Everyone had an absolutely amazing time. Once the event ended children loaded up all their new toys and boarded back onto the limos and buses they arrived in. A gentle snowfall ended the most perfect evening.

It was a very long, very incredible day. Events like this restore my faith. Just because it isn't a religious event doesn't mean the Lord's work isn't being done. God was straight MOVING in that place. I hope to participate every single year until the day I die, keeping the Christmas spirit alive with hope, restoration, and joy. The true spirit of this season feeds my spirit and gives me life. I feel very blessed to have been a part.

Carry Your Own Cross

It's been so long since I've done this that I don't even know where to begin. My life in the past year has been RADICALLY rocked in the absolute best of ways. There are millions of things I could share about, and that is awesome. I have never been so busy and so pushed to grow and mature. I'm discovering what it really means to be a woman of God and it's the most terrifying/exciting adventure I have ever been on.

One thing I'm discovering is that God's favor is tricky. One moment he provides a check with the entirety of funding for my missions trip and the next I don't have enough pennies to scrape together to pay for my school tuition. I know that his ways are higher than my ways, and I definitely am learning what it really means to trust him with my everything. You can't trust God with all that you are if you are secretly doubting his supernatural ability to provide. This is something I have to remind myself of daily.

As I struggle with petty things like finances, God is certainly up to so much more in my life. One sign of this is a class I am currently peer-teaching on Passion for Jesus by Mike Bickle. It's blowing my mind. I walk into class nervous because I have never viewed myself as a public speaker, but my classmates and I walk out of that class ignited because of the new revelations we are all having. Growing up in church I knew a lot ABOUT God, but as I uncover more of his very character it is revolutionizing the ways I love him. It's because our God is undeniably, unapologetically passionate about us that we can be so passionate about him. And that I get to unravel further mysteries about my God amongst my best friends is the most incredible part.

Deciding to move home and go to Bible college was a drastic change from the path I was previously on. Everyone (myself included) was sure I would graduate from CSU with my Bachelor's in Biomedical Science and head off to medical school. I would have a great job, impressive resume, and financial security for the rest of my life. My parents and extended family would be impressed with my credentials. I was going to be successful and could have been a fantastic doctor--that just wasn't (and still isn't) for me. As much as school fascinated me, I was becoming distant from God and it was making me miserable. I spent hours alone in my room just crying because I felt like I was living somebody else's life. But the thought of leaving to pursue my own dreams was terrifying. I didn't want to disappoint my parents. I didn't want people to think that I was just quitting something. I begged God to show me a clear direction and push me through the right door.

What I realized during that time has dramatically changed the way I make decisions. You see, God is the ultimate gentleman. He supernaturally makes ways for things to happen and will open many doors for me throughout my life. But the thing is, he will NEVER force me into anything. God will not ever choose my college, my major, my spouse, or my career--I will. Out of his abounding goodness he has given me that right. My duty is to be so close to him that I can hear the still, small voice and act on what I hear. And at the end of the day, it is MY job to act. This revelation is what gave me the boldness to pick up and move. I hopped onto a supremely different path and started running, knowing that my God would bless me for my obedience to him. It doesn't matter what I'm doing as long as I am doing it for my King. He is simply delighting in my journey because he's a good dad.

God promises that his yoke is easy and his burden is light. I have heard that my whole life, but I didn't realize the full implications of this statement until very recently. At CSU I was carrying a yoke that was a terrible struggle and felt weighed down by burden daily. It's because I was carrying somebody else's yoke. I have no doubt that somebody just as qualified as me (if not more so) took my spot in the Biomedical Science program. They are going to be a fantastic doctor indeed. I am going to be an incredible, godly wife and mom. That yoke is easy, that burden is light--because it's the one I have been designed for from even before the very day I was being knit together in the womb.

I am done ascending the hill of the Most High carrying anyone else's cross but my own. I am done wasting time chasing a "calling" and I am solely focused on chasing him. I will figure out the fine details of the rest of my life when the time comes, but for now it's enough to know that God is alive, active, and interceding on my behalf. As I run after all that he is, God continually reaffirms his goodness. I just couldn't ask for more.

24 Years and Going Strong

Unconditional love means unquestioned support. It means that no matter what happens, outside circumstances cannot change how much you care about somebody. My parents are the best example on earth of what unconditional love is and I want to honor them today, their 24th wedding anniversary.

My mom and dad still act like they are dating. They make flirty jokes and give each other kisses right there in the middle of the kitchen in front of God and everyone. When I was younger I was supremely grossed out. I mean, those are my PARENTS. But over the years I have come to realize just how much I adore that they are still so in love with each other. Sadly, it is rare to have parents like that who stay together through think and thin and love each other more every day. Some day I hope to be married for decades and still give my husband kisses in the kitchen and make flirty jokes that make my children uncomfortable. That's true love right there.

The reason my parents are still so very much in love after all these years is definitely because they have made a point to honor God with their marriage. They pray together all the time and make sure that they leave everything in their lives at God's feet. They affirm each other and speak life. They have raised their children in such a way that glorifies God and I will never take that for granted. I love God as much as I do today because of the example they have set for me. I am honored to be their daughter.

I thank God every day for giving me parents who have taught me what it means to be a couple. Everything I know about what a good marriage looks like I have learned from them. I can't wait to have with someone someday what they have with each other now. "To have and to hold, until death do us part." They said it once and they still mean it. I will say it once and I will mean it.

Thank you for being so wonderful to me by being so wonderful to each other, Mom and Dad.

What People Don't Tell You at Graduation (That You Really Do Need to Hear)

1.  Failure is always an option.
We learn more about ourselves from failure than we do from success. I'm sure the experience of that test you bombed in high school sucked, don't get me wrong, but I bet you learned something. It's OKAY TO FAIL. Success rarely happens on the first try, and perseverance through failure is what will shape you into who you are meant to be. Nothing builds character quite like persevering under trial. How you handle failure says WAY more about you than the failure itself. Learn, grow, and move on. Everything is going to be okay, even when you fail.

2. WHAT you decide to be will never matter as much as WHO you decide to be.
I struggled with this one a lot as I graduated high school (and to be honest, I still struggle with it to this day). It seems like all people care about is what kind of degree you're getting so they can speculate on your future job security. They ask what you want to be when you grow up and they need to know a sure answer this time. But it's okay to not know. It's freeing to be able to answer with an "I have no idea". The job you have will never define who you are--it merely defines what you do. Who you are will never depend on salary or status. Who you are depends on your character. I'm at a place in my life where even though I have been working towards a degree, I have no idea what I will use those credentials for. All that I truly care about is shaping myself into a responsible adult whose heart is so very much lost in God's. I don't care what I am doing because my focus is who I am becoming.

3. These aren't the greatest years of your life.
Yes, you will look back on high school and remember the great times you had with the wonderful friends you made. High school forces us to define ourselves so that we can be ready to face the college years, and I will always be grateful for the people who mentored me during that time. But the focus on the college years can be very skewed. You might feel like this is your last chance to be young, so you better live it up. You might hear that college is the place to have the last hurrah of your fun, because there is no room for fun in the "real world". That couldn't be more false. It isn't like you have to go crazy in college for fear of never being allowed to have fun again. There is no rule against making every year of your life the new greatest year of your life. Nobody is going to force you to stop being happy when these college years are over--that is your choice. There is too much life ahead of you for you to be worrying about making these years count. Make every year count.

4. It is okay to change your mind.

You don't have to know right now what the rest of your life looks like. It's better if you don't. Picking a college, major, or job is not the end-all-be-all. It's okay to stop and make a decision to change those things. It's really okay to try new things until you find where you really belong, because too often we feel like once we have made a decision we have to stick to it. You don't have to settle for mediocrity in your heart because you are afraid that your parents will be disappointed you won't be a doctor, lawyer, or concert pianist. If it's not for you, it's not for you. Don't ever settle for something less when your heart aches for something better.

"I don't know what the future holds, but I do know who holds the future."

Independence Days

I have been spending a lot of time by myself lately. Usually I don't like to spend that much of my time alone--I am a very social person and thrive in settings with multitudes of people. But recently I have been doing things completely independently and I have never felt so good.

I have done things by myself that I previously thought were unimaginable. I went out to lunch alone, I went stag to a concert, and I even went to see a movie by myself. I am cherishing my seclusion more than I ever have before and I am becoming very okay with this independence. It really is freeing.

I don't feel pressured to be "the funny one" when I am alone. There is nobody to impress. I didn't realize how much other peoples' opinions of me mattered until I stopped hanging out with them. It's so nice to just be allowed to feel however I truly do and not have to worry about what others think. I can enjoy things I want to enjoy and not have to compromise my opinions for anybody.

Sure, there is give and take with any relationship and it is good to find happy mediums--but there is something genuinely wonderful about being in charge of yourself. I have been saying "no" to others instead of being walked all over. It feels good. I am in control of my own happiness again.

Through this I am learning how to be more like my true self when I do hang out with others. My "reputation" doesn't have a hold on me. It's time to make God's reputation the one that matters.

Happiness Sometimes, Joy Forever

Life in the past month has been, to put it simply, chaos. I have gone through so many ups and downs, so many stresses, and so many victories. I have had past hurts come to light, I finished a semester at a new school, I got a promotion, I quit that job, and on and on. All the while I have been growing. I think that might be the most important thing that I am taking away from this semester--the idea that no matter where I am or how much I feel like I am stuck in a certain situation, I can learn something. I can become better.


I am rising out of a funk that I have been trapped in for the past several weeks and it feels good to finally be shaking those ashes off. For some reason there has been a heaviness on me that has kept me very on-edge. I have been frustrated at the little things. I have treated people poorly as a defense mechanism.


I feel terrible for letting myself get there, but I am working on being better. I have to catch myself and hold my tongue. I have to speak life into people instead of only caring about what I am going through. I am finding myself sucking the poison out of a lot of wounds I have created in myself and in others recently and it is very freeing. I know in my heart that I love people, so I need to start acting like it.


I need to stop holding grudges. Sometimes something as small as a passive-aggressive tweet is enough to set me off. I am striving to forgive and forget. I am working hard at making sure my focus is on matters of eternity. I am developing a thick skin not only to keep bad things out, but to keep good things in.


I promised myself a long time ago that I would never lose my spark. I will never lose the thing that keeps me joyful even when I am upset. I know better than most what it means to have the joy of the Lord. I know it means that it's okay to cry and have bad days, it's okay to be upset, and it's okay to feel like my world is collapsing. My joy comes from the fact that my King turns it around. My joy comes from the fact that as my world is collapsing in all around me, my God is seeing me through.


I don't have to be happy for my God to be present. My joy comes from the promise of security I find in Him, the notion that He is here working, leading, and guiding me. Everything really is going to be okay. It feels good to be reminded that I am not alone.

Life: A Bumpy Road

So many ups and downs lately it is ridiculous. I am excited beyond measure about my missions trip and I can't believe some of the other miracles that are happening in my life, but at the same time I am having more days that I am depressed for no reason. Both yesterday and today I cried spontaneously. Something tiny would set me off and I would lose it. I don't know what's going on with my emotions, but I certainly don't like it. Bottling things up all the time is catching up to me big time.

I need a good cry--one of those "get alone with a box of Kleenex, shut off your phone, and watch The Notebook" kind of cries. A girl just needs that sometimes. It keeps us sane (we have a lot of feelings).

What I have been struggling with the most at school is feeling unusable and worthless. I am not interning anywhere in the church and it makes me feel like wasted space. Although I am caught up and even ahead in some of my schoolwork, I get reprimanded for slacking off. I am frustrated and tired and I feel like I am banging my head against the wall sometimes. My voice isn't heard and even when it is heard it is dismissed.

It's hard. I feel like I am learning and growing so much personally and all that I see from it is, well, nothing. I can't share my joys with anyone because they are dealing with their own struggles. I can't share my struggles because everyone has their own issues to deal with. I can't help but listen to them all because my heart breaks for what my friends' hearts break for, but it would be nice to have someone to listen to anything that I have to say once in a while. I am over-burdened with issues that are not my own and I have no outlet.

Thank goodness that God is always good. I promised myself years ago that I would never forget that. When I am having great days, God is great. When I am having the crappiest days ever, God is still great. I always have a reason to worship and I always have a reason to be grateful. I can also find promise in the fact that as emotions come and go, I am still rooted in the joy provided by a king who runs the universe. Sadness can't compete with joy like that for very long. 

Overwhelmed is an Understatement

I have been a mess this week. It's a good kind of mess this time, though. Weeks like this remind me that the ups and downs of life are more than worth it. On Monday I received word that the missions trip I am going on to Belize in June is PAID IN FULL. When I found out I literally fell to my knees in shock. I'm still walking around in awe.


I have known going into this trip that since I am broke as a joke, God would have to make a way for me financially. I have known in my heart that this was going to happen for me in Jesus' name. HOW it happened is what has wrecked me.


To give a little back story...
In June of  2008 I went on a missions trip to Thailand. The cost of the trip was almost three thousand dollars and as a sixteen-year-old girl I had no idea how I was going to pay the trip expenses. I sent out support letters to friends and family and I got one letter back that really affected me. It was from a couple family members. Not only did they say that they did not approve of my decision to go on the trip, they said that my parents were foolish for allowing their daughter to go out into a land filled with so much darkness. We were scolded for what God was doing in my life.


It broke me. I felt entirely discouraged in that moment. The effort I was making to ask for support was retorted with disgust and all I could do was pray through it with my parents and write a letter of response. I told my family members that although I respect and love them, I disagreed with what they had said. I knew that this was what I needed to do. My decision had been made. We left it at that and literally have not spoken about it for the past four years. I did receive the funding for Thailand and it was one of the best experiences of my life... but not gonna lie, that letter has weighed heavy on my heart all of these years..


Cut to February 27, 2012. I get called out of class by the financial director of the Belize missions trip. I thought that I was in trouble or something by the urgency in his voice when he said he needed to speak to me. I walked out into the hall and he handed me a check that was sent in that covers the ENTIRE fee of the trip--written out and sent in by those family members.


These are the same family members that told me all those years ago that God's will is not for me to go out on missions. The same people who told us that we were foolish for thinking it was a good idea to travel overseas for God's purposes four years ago just sent me a check and solely made it possible for me to do just that this summer.


To say that I am overwhelmed is an understatement. It's not even about the financial stress that has been lifted from my shoulders (although that is pretty amazing). It is about the heart change that has obviously taken place in those family members. Nobody can change hearts like God can. He exists in glory and power forever.


I am so completely and irrevocably wrecked. It's like God is up there looking down saying, "Don't you know how great I am? Don't you believe me when I say that I will take care of you? Here's just a little taste of my devotion. There is NOTHING that is too hard for me." Who am I to ever doubt such a glorious God? This revelation is the greatest of all--that the very same all-powerful God that sets the earth into motion comes to me to give me this reminder that He is alive, He cares about the little things, and that He is MOVING.


Sometimes a little doubt creeps in and reminds me of all the things I have given up to be in Ministry school. A small voice reminds me that I could have been a doctor or a lawyer or anything else that will keep me respected and financially secure. That voice will never go away, but it has less authority over my life every single day. Sure, I don't know where I am going to be in a few years. I do not know whatsoever what I am going to be doing with my life. But I sure as heck know who I am going to be.


Living in faithfulness isn't easy, but my goodness is it rewarding. There is nothing--and I mean NOTHING--my God cannot do.