Longing for Eden

It has been too long since I wrote for you guys, or since I wrote in general. In the absence of my usual writing style I’ve got something a little different for you. A little life update and a piece of poetry (?? it’s very free form so call it what you want). Poetry is not my natural form of writing, it has always interested me, but I’ve never considered myself a poet, or good at that form, but about a month ago this piece flowed out of me.

First, for the life update. If you follow me on facebook, which is where most of my readers come from, you’ve seen the changes. I was in the Pacific Northwest for a year, in beautiful north Idaho. While there I met this guy, and well to save you a lot of details, we are now married 🙂 Meet Nic, and also, yours truly now goes by Erica Barnett. I’ll post some wedding pics of us below!

We got married in Idaho on March 4th of this year. I know I’m dressed for summer, but it was in the 30s and 40s. I’ve always wanted a mountain top wedding and our friends who own a ranch in the mountains of Idaho made these dreams come true beyond I even imagined!

The other major life update is that I no longer live in Idaho. I’ve moved south to Texas and work as a youth pastor. So many new things, changes, and adjustments since I last wrote here. It has all brought with it a range of excitement, nervousness, and figuring it out. It has been neat seeing the doors God has opened and the places He’s taking us. If you want more details on the updates than I’ve provided here feel free to message me, but for now that’s all and I’ll end with that new form of writing from me; a poem entitled Longing for Eden.

It’s there, I can feel it

Just beneath the surface

It ebbs and it flows

Against the retaining wall of my heart

On my shores it crashes

Creating storms within

Outside only catching glimpses when it overflows

A few tears slide past my lashes

Glances ask if I’m ok

Yes, escapes my lips on a sigh

I’m just tired…I think

But why am I tired?

Why do the waters pass their boundaries of my heart?

Because my heart has been bound

Strings pull on it in different directions

Pulling tighter and tighter against each other

One out pulls them all though

And as it does the others get tangled

I want them to all align with the one

But it is currently impossible

I want to know how I balance the tangled ones

Woman. Wife. Future mom, hopefully. Full-time pastor.

While being acutely aware of a longing

The tightest string beckons me

But I can’t fix it

It’s so knotted and broken

I thought I had lost sight of it

That I was losing connection with it

That that is where the turmoil below the surface came from

But maybe it is that I’m more deeply connected with it than ever before

It tugs and it tugs at my heart but its full potential is not yet

It cannot exist among the strings that pull on the heart of the earth

I must be content with creating little pockets that resemble it 

While looking ahead to the day that it is the only string pulling on my heart

The world tells me to pick up all kinds of strings

To let them pull at my heart and all will be well

That if I could just attach enough of them life would be complete

I would be satisfied

But I am not

I cannot be satisfied until the one string is no longer restricted

The string of Eden restored

My heart desires to be bound only by the goodness of Eden

Where the only retaining wall needed is love

And where I talk face to face with my God

To spend countless days in soul filling work

Creating beauty of the earth and of relationships

Joining with all creation in joyful praise

When the longing of our hearts 

For something long forgotten

At last is realized in creation anew

The Breaking

Breaking season. Have you ever experienced one? And not just one that lasted for a couple weeks, I mean one that lasted so long you almost can’t remember where it started and you don’t even know where to look for the end? One where you had just enough of a respite between breaking points for you to gasp for breath and start learning to smile again, but never long enough for you to feel like you had made it out. The waves kept rolling, crashing over your head, sending you tumbling again and again. And I know that somewhere out there, there is a foundation for me to stand on, there is Jesus to see just above the next wave, but it’s so hard to fix my gaze and get planted on the solid ground.

They say it takes fire to purify and refine gold, but am I really being refined? Or am I just being crushed? We are broken by what we most love. The greater the love, the greater the capacity for it to cause pain. Something or someone we don’t love has no hold over us, no capacity to harm, because we haven’t given it the power of having a piece of us. But that’s what love is, handing over a piece of your heart, in ever increasing amounts, trusting that the heart and hands you are giving it to will hold it well. Love is a game that you only win at if both parties want to stay in and see the other win. If one side pulls out of the game, everyone loses.

The breaking begins when what we love fails us. What we love doesn’t even have to become absent from our life to fail us because we live in a world where that failure is inevitable. We are broken. Our world is broken. Even our ability to love is broken. We love people poorly. We love God poorly. We love things more than people and God. Yet, we think we have learned to love well. What we have though is only a shadow. It is just the lingering remnants of a world we were meant to live in, but forfeited when we decided that we wanted ourselves to win more than the other to win.

When the rug is yanked out from under you because what you love and desire has failed you, what do you do? I love relationship. I define myself by trying to love well, and by building relationships with people. My desire is for deep, lasting relationship. But, in some aspects that has failed me. Over and over again I have longed for it and I have reached out after it. Every time getting closer to obtaining it, to grasping something lasting, but each time the pain of its failure has increased.

For some, like me, it is this desire for love and relationship that has the greatest potential to break you. For others it is the desire for success, or the desire for comfort, or the desire for power. The list is endless, for as many people as there are in this world, there is that many variations on what it is we desire so deeply that we give it the power to break us.

Yes, we make it back from the breaking. I hope. Eventually, the waves will stop crashing long enough for you to rest on top of the water and bask in the sun. And yes, I could end this like I end most of my writings, with some positive spin. I could say something now about the fact that God is there. That He is the desire that won’t fail us. I know that, but right now I don’t feel that. Right now, I want to speak to those who don’t know or feel that. I want to nod my head and say, I see you. I feel you. I’m sorry that you have to go through the breaking alone. I’m sorry that you have to struggle without the knowledge of someone fighting for you. I’m sorry that your desire has failed you.

Transparency in the Middle

I write because I feel that it is a connection point that God has given me. Most of the time I go back and look at what I write knowing that I can’t take credit for the blessings people may receive from it because a lot of the time I’m surprised at what I have written, it speaks to me as much as to anyone else. From the first time I started writing to share with others, on my blog back at the end of 2017, I have always had the goal of being transparent and real. I wanted to write in a way that helped others realize that life is messy, has ups, has downs, and is a whole lot of trying to figure things out. No one has it perfect. No one has it all figured out. No one’s spiritual walk is a piece of cake. If you look at someone and think that they actually do have all those things, you are seeing what you want to see or what they want you to see.

But here’s the thing: being transparent is difficult. It isn’t just difficult because it breaks down the mask we all work so hard at building to convince others (ahem, more likely ourselves…) that life is good and we aren’t fumbling around trying to make things work. That is but one level of the difficulty of transparency. The other really difficult thing is that it can be hard to be transparent in the midst of a mess – the exact time it is so critical that we are transparent. It is in the mess that people need something to relate to, but it is so much easier to write once I’ve made it through the mess. So, I’m sitting here writing, still currently in a mess, whether the middle or the end, who knows, but in it I am.

How do you write a worthwhile message that is transparent and that will speak to others in similar situations when you don’t even know what exactly it is that you are experiencing? And that right there is probably the very thing that needs to be addressed. We generally don’t read books about people who are confused about the time they are in, we read about people who went through a mess, had life happen, but who have made it to the other side and are looking back. Yes, that is relatable, but what about now? What about the time where I can’t even fully articulate what I’m feeling, what I’m facing, what I may or may not be learning, or what I’m supposed to do about it? That is where I am, and that is the perspective I’ll write from in this chapter.

It’s a transformed world outside my window. Winter has held out on me for months, but today, here in February, winter gave me what I wanted: snow. There is something magical about snow. The magic of the sound of stillness. Snow falling and hitting the ground, the trees, the buildings ever so gently that the sound is more like a whisper of music you can’t quite make out. The air around you feels suspended in calmness and silence with the occasional sharp, crisp noise from some form of wildlife. Bundled up, I set out walking amidst the magic, looking for a measure of the peace that the snow-covered landscape embraced.

Snow has taught me this lesson before. I remember my two years at Seminary in Michigan, there was a time similar to this where I was facing the unknown and battling things that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. A winter storm rolled through one night and I was jealous of how calm and peaceful the world could seem in the midst of such a windy and cold storm. I wanted that peace, that calm, to enter my storm. I wanted to stand in the middle of the winds with a calmness that stood in stark contrast to the storm.

This one is a gentler storm, not much wind, but the snow ever falling and swirling as it gradually builds up. Again, that snow reflected what I feel. Nothing huge is happening in my life, no big gusts of wind to mark a storm, just the constant swirling and gradual accumulation. I think I am so uneasy, and feeling like I am in a storm because I am being pushed. I am being forced to grow in ways I hadn’t needed to at any other time in my life. The past 18 years of my life have been filled with school and community. I knew what my purpose and my end goals were. I lived in a community where if I wasn’t feeling like I felt God’s voice or direction, there was most certainly someone who was who I could lean on, and hear God through them. Then I graduated and suddenly life was here. I moved to the middle of nowhere and suddenly everything was up to me.

Just this morning I came to the realization that over the past few months I think God has been pushing me to essentially grow up. My faith was my own, yes, but I still very much relied on other things and other people to help me know that I was on the right track, that I was following where God was leading. He’s been asking me to be an adult in Christ, to stand on my own two feet and trust that I have a relationship with Him strong enough to follow His lead and to hear His direction without the props of confirmation in other people. But I’ve been resisting. Change and growth and new levels of faith are scary.

I thought I had leveled up before. I had jumped into action on something I felt God’s leading on, only to end up smacking into disappointment and a dead end. I withdrew, and entered this season. Living out my own faith, taking big steps was scary and not an exact science. So, I stepped back into the comfortable, into the seeking confirmation for every little thing. As I did, the swirling started and only intensified as I continued to stay there. I was anxious, I was uncertain, I was fumbling. I still feel like I’m fumbling. I’m not entirely sure what I’m learning, where God is taking me next, or how I even get to the point where I truly take to heart the verse “be anxious for nothing” and move out in faith consistently whether or not I hit the ground or take off in flight.

Whether you can put your finger on what exactly your storm is and what you are feeling or not, maybe the key is finding the peace within it. Maybe it is about finding those moments where your breathing calms, your heart is at rest, and you have a measure of stillness despite the wind and the snow swirling around you. Answers are great, but we don’t always get them, or at least not at the moment that we feel we need them. If I am learning to dance amidst life’s storms, then I need to think about embracing them. Not in a way that hides any pain, frustration, or difficulty I am going through. But in a way that I allow myself to find teachable moments, quiet moments, and honest moments. I take the good days, the hard days, the on-the-verge-of-tears days, the revelation days, and the still days. Each one, I collect and I look at as a whole, moving along, gleaning what I can, until enough still days have passed in a row that I can look back and pass judgement on that season. But until then, it is a daily surrender, it is a daily prayer, breathed through every moment, that I would trade my worry for trust and be aware of God’s constant presence through all the swirling.

Uncomfortably Comfortable

I was avoiding Him, and we both knew it. Oh, I wrote it off as, I’m just too busy, I’ve had a lot going on, I just moved, I’m adjusting to the time change…..etc, etc, etc. But two weeks of almost forced stillness brought those excuses crashing down. I couldn’t sit any longer drinking in the stillness and beauty before me and not face it. Each night as I watched the sun sink behind the tall mountains and big pine trees, while setting the clear lake before me in to shimmering shades of oranges, yellows, and reds I realized I had plenty of space, plenty of time, and plenty of quiet to talk to Him.

You see, the ink had stopped flowing to the pages of my journals for a while now, and we both knew that was my way of avoiding, a silent treatment of sorts. But let’s be real, who am I to give God the silent treatment? I was making my own situation worse, cutting myself off from peace, comfort, and truth, even if I was frustrated. I had a plan for how things would turn out this year and many of those have fallen through the cracks it seems. I thought I knew what was best, I thought I knew all the directions God was going, but no surprise, I was wrong….again, and again, and again.

And the more and more things went opposite of my plan, the less and less my pen wrote. Middle of summer, I finished a journal I’d been writing in for a while, and then my silence and avoidance really set in. Why start another one when I didn’t know what to say, or ask, or do, or plan? Wouldn’t it just be easier and better to not write so that I didn’t have to see the questions, the uncertainties, the missteps? But this morning God tapped me on the shoulder, asked for an hour of my time, and asked me to crack open that new journal. So, as I sat in the morning light, watching the new day come to the lake out my window, I grabbed the new journal, and old pen, and started to open the lines of communication again.

Was it all neatly packaged and tied with a bow? No way. It was honest though. I gave God every reason I could think of why I didn’t want to start that journal, but I also gave Him the reason I did want to start it. I wanted to return. I wanted to refocus on just Him. You see, I’d pulled the fleece over my eyes for a while, telling myself I was spending time with God and growing. Yet, the majority of my times spent with God for months were focused on everything but God. It was focused on praying for next steps, asking for answers, or informing God what I thought needed to happen. I’d read some passage or some devotion to say I’d connected, but it wasn’t hitting me as I needed and wanted it to because I was too distracted by my agenda.

All of that was precisely why I was avoiding. I knew two things: I didn’t understand a lot of what God was doing and I had let my focus shift away from Jesus. Both rubbed against my pride, so I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to keep believing that I was doing my part, and that the discontent I was feeling was not my fault. So, God took me to a place He knew would simultaneously get my comfortable and exceedingly uncomfortable. I’ve heard and seen God in this place, and the beauty of the environment draws my mind to Him, I am comfortable. Yet, the pervasive stillness of the past two weeks made me more and more uncomfortable as He showed me my avoidance.

For those who are wondering, I’m no longer an east coast girl. I’ve traded my Prius for an old Subaru outback and I hit the road west. For now, I call Camp MiVoden home and drink in every moment in this beautiful place that I get. I’m on a year journey of learning and growing as an intern in the youth and young adult department of the Upper Columbia Conference, and the stillness of the past two weeks will quickly disappear into busyness. Is it where I thought I would be when I graduated? No. Is it where I want to be and where I’ve felt God lead me? Yes. My life is never boring with God, it just happens to take twists and turns I seldom expect, and always keeps me grasping for His hand to steady me.

Maybe you can relate to my avoidance, maybe you can’t, but I can assure you that if you give God the space, He will show you things. He’s always on board to talk, and I’m discovering that we are the ones who are generally not on board if it’s not on the terms we had decided on. Join me in tearing apart our boxes again, and again, and again. I have found that when I think I have let God out of the box I’d created, I’ve really just let Him into a slightly bigger one, but it has walls just the same. It has limitations and expectations that I don’t see until I run smack dab into them and God asks me to let those fall too. So, here I am once again, letting you see my messy faith walk, and letting you know that it’s ok. Real is messy, but God wants us to take every part of that mess straight to Him. But if we won’t, He’ll still be there, waiting for us to see that it’d be so much better if we would. Just beware, God may take you somewhere to get equal parts comfortable and uncomfortable so that you reawaken to your need of and desire for more of Him. Not more of His answers, just more of Him.

I Will Stand With You

Though my voice may not be a loud one or a far reaching one, the simple fact that I was born with a lighter skin tone than some of my friends, co-workers, or people I pass on the street, somehow means that my voice is one that gets heard, one that is more powerful. So, I will use that voice to speak for my housemate, my neighbor, and my friends who don’t get the privilege that I do. To them I want to say that I am sorry for all you have had to experience. My heart breaks for you and I will stand and be an ally for you.

To those who will listen to my voice because of my skin tone, I want to ask you to really look within yourself and see where growth could occur. Growth may be uncomfortable, but so is the life that humans with a darker complexion live. I wasn’t always aware of just how great the injustice was that minorities, and specifically black people, face. Over my college experience, however, and specifically the last two years, my eyes were opened. Experience will teach you way more than all the “fact” searching ever could.

For the past two years, I have lived with an interracial couple who are two of my closest friends, and are really more like family to me. In quite literally doing daily life with them for two years I have heard the stories and heard the pain of what it is like to be a in a society that is against you in too many ways. I have watched When They See Us and Just Mercy and cried as I realized just how unjust our society is and has been. I watch these stories, I listen to those of my friends, and I am angry that my best friend has to wonder if her husband will come back every time he leaves the house. I am angry that my best friend has to always be on guard, even in his own home, because any day could be the day that someone of a lighter skin tone decides they just don’t like him.

I am not out here to condemn every white person or every person in power, but I am here to call attention to a problem that has gone on for far too long. Very few would consciously admit to or choose prejudice, but it plagues us and in choosing to look away and be silent because it makes you uncomfortable only adds to the issue. Evil and division will persist because we live in a fallen and sinful world, but that doesn’t mean that we stop fighting it. As a Christian, I am called to stand up for those in society who are facing injustice and who do not have a voice.

“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy.”

Proverbs 31:8-9

Difficult Faith

When did we get the idea that faith would be easy? That if we stepped out in faith on something we would immediately be rewarded for taking the chance? It is so easy to buy into this idea without even realizing it. Cognitively I know that the picture of faith the Bible shows me is not one that is easy. It is one of waiting, facing the impossible, struggling with discouragement, and having to place what you know about God above what the current situation tells you. Though I know this in my mind, my heart wants to buy into the other idea, the one that says everything is going to turn out as I imagined because I have faith.

If someone were to ask me how this week was for me, I would be lying if I said everything was just fine. But I walked through my days, smiling at people, greeting them, and saying “I’m good!” as if everything in my life was exactly how I wanted it to be. What kind of community and what kind of faith have we created when it is all based on a premise of being good? Community means absolutely nothing if I have to be okay all the time. Faith means little if I have to also put on a front with God and I need things to turn out when and how I want lest I be uprooted. This week I came face to face with these things.

For about 6 months now, I have been on a journey of learning what it means to truly walk in faith. From the outset I knew that it wasn’t going to be easy, but I never imagined or expected it to take as long or be as difficult as it has been. There are days my faith soars. I pray boldly, speak boldly, and face the giants head on. But other days it is just plain difficult. My prayers turn to questions, my speech turns to frustration and doubt, and I hide from the giants. What I see and what I feel screams that God has forgotten what He said to me, and I frantically search for His whisper beneath all of the commotion.

The screams were loud this week. I have started a new job that I love, but that has stretched me. I pull late nights for work, to then get up before it is even light outside to make it to class. I had four nights on in a row, I didn’t have time to do school work, and I was told about some extra things I had to do before graduation in May that should have been communicated well before this point. By mid-week exhaustion was mounting and that is when the devil chose to attack because he knew I was already weak. With everything else that had already tired me, I also was confronted with experiences this week that made it seem like the thing I was praying for, hoping for, stepping in faith for was going unnoticed and forgotten by my God. Defenses already down, the devil came, shouting his lies. Old insecurities surfaced, doubt plagued my mind, and I was tempted to throw my hands up in defeat because surely if 6 months of praying hadn’t changed anything then it was never going to change.

I drug my feet through the week, trying to show everyone that I had it together, until a dear friend that makes up part of my community told me that it’s ok to not be ok sometimes, it’s ok to have the bad days. From there I shared with a few people within my community that are close to me and who have been praying with me. Being real with them didn’t bring answers but it did bring peace and even some lesson learning. I learned that there are times that I am going to have to put what I know above what I feel. Yes, our relationships with God should be real to us and our emotions should be connected to that. However, our relationship with God also needs to be balanced by a deep knowledge of Him that remembers what is true even when things appear the opposite.

I was also reminded that I was created for community and for good reason. We weren’t created to hide from each other, but to be vulnerable with each other. Yet, hiding is what we often resort to and we bring more pain to ourselves because we refuse to be vulnerable and share our struggles with others.

I learned that walking in faith means I continue moving forward, continue hoping, continue praying and leave the rest in God’s hand. His timing and His ways are different than mine and so there will inevitably be times that I just don’t get it. There will be times something seems impossible, but that doesn’t mean I get to lose trust in God or quit walking in faith. Instead, that should be my clue to dig deeper and to cling to God tighter because I can’t do it on my own. And you know what? Just when I was at the breaking point, ready to stop praying for God to move, He drew me even closer and gave me a small whisper of encouragement, assuring me that He was at work even if I couldn’t see it or feel it.

So, to all of you whom life swings at as it does me, it is ok to not be ok sometimes. It is ok to be vulnerable with God and with your community. It is ok to not have all the answers. It is ok that faith feels difficult at times. Allow yourself to recognize all this and then put on your armor, for you are a child of the King. You are a fierce warrior in God’s kingdom because He stands with you. Put on that armor and strike back against the devil and his lies by letting the difficulties draw you closer to God, instead of letting them push you away from Him. Fight back by resisting the urge to hide, and immerse yourself in your community that cares for you. Faith and life are difficult, but thankfully we serve a God who is bigger than we have ever imagined. Dive into His word and find truth you can cling to and claim over your life. In the difficult times one of my favorites to claim is Psalm 57:7, “My heart, O God, is steadfast, my heart is steadfast; I will sing and make music.”

Step-Taking Faith

If you couldn’t tell by now, I consider myself to be a writer (when I say those words out loud, whether you take it as rider as in horses, or writer as in paper and pen, I happily claim both :D, but that’s beside the point). I would not nearly be as quick to consider myself a public speaker, but God is growing me. Recently, I had the chance to preach my first sermon. Yes, it was in class, but all the nerves remained. I do not enjoy being the center of attention, but I do enjoy talking about God. God gave me a message to share and so I spoke it to my class, and now I will speak it to you through my writing.

Faith is a word that we throw around so carelessly. It is a word that sometimes I think we honestly have no clue what it means or how to live it out. Maybe to help clarify it, we could look at what faith is not. Faith is not certainty. Faith is not proof. Faith is not a GPS plotted route from A to B. Yet, that is exactly what we want it to be, we want to be able to say we are living by faith while in the same breath be able to say that we have been given certainty about our next steps in life. But what if I told you that faith is trusting in a word from God, even when you can’t see the destination, the provision, or the miracle?

In John 4, Jesus returns to Cana in Galilee, and a nobleman from another town in the region called Capernaum hears about it. This man has a son on the brink of death, and as a father he is desperate. He is seemingly on his last resort. No one has been able to heal his son, but maybe Jesus can, so he sets out to find Him. This man may not be sure of who Jesus is to him, but he knows that Jesus can do things that others can’t. When he does find Jesus, he pleads with Him to come heal his son. Jesus response sounds a little harsh, “unless you people see signs and wonders, you will by no means believe.”

Ouch! I mean come on Jesus, this guy’s son is dying and you’re going to call him out like that? Yet, it is exactly what Jesus does because He is more interested in the messy and painful process, than he is in the quick and easy fix. The nobleman wants a miracle, and he has enough faith to at least come ask for it, but that faith is shaky and he isn’t sure that it will remain standing if Jesus doesn’t come through for him. It is a precarious situation you can find yourself in when you let who God is to you be dependent on what God does or does not do for you.

So, Jesus shows the man that He sees his faith is resting in the balance of what He does or doesn’t do for him. The thing had become more important than the who to the nobleman and Jesus doesn’t pass on an opportunity to do some difficult heart work and ask the man to grow in his faith. The father persists in his plea, “Sir, come down before my child dies!” This time Jesus’ response gives him hope and a choice. Jesus says, “go your way; your son lives.”

This is not the answer the man was seeking. He wanted Jesus to come with him, he wanted assurance. Now he has a choice: insist that Jesus come with him, or take Jesus at His word, turn around and begin walking towards home not knowing if he is walking towards his miracle or his greatest disappointment.

Is this not us so often? We want certainty. We want Jesus where we can see Him, when and where we need Him. We want that certainty and we want things the way we have asked for them. What does it look like when you have persisted in prayer and the answer you get doesn’t sound like what you expected? It isn’t that the answer the nobleman got doesn’t sound good, because it does, Jesus said that what was at the center of his request had been granted! It’s just that it’s a little bit risky and a lot bit uncertain, two things we don’t like. Yet, as much as we tend to shy away from uncertainty, it is a requirement for faith to be in action. If we had the GPS route, we would have no need for faith, it would just be a question of whether or not we could follow directions.

At the end of the day is your faith really faith? Is it something that you have to rely on? When God asks you to go your way with only a Word from Him to rely on what will your response be? We can sit stationary, insisting that God do things our way and we will never experience spiritual growth. Or we can take a step, having faith that what we can’t see yet will come to pass if God has said it. And when things get confusing, uncertain, or difficult remember that your faith, or your confidence, is in who He is.

Do you Believe the Promises?

My eyes popped open and my heart started to thud as that feeling of knowing I had overslept came over me. I rolled over to look at my phone on the floor and my fear was confirmed as the glowing numbers 6:05 am glared back at me. I had missed my 5:30 time of prayer with two of my closest friends who also happen to be my housemates. Immediately I began to play that game that we have played since the moment we as humanity fell: the blame game. And just like Adam and Eve did, I wanted to blame God. Some of you may be thinking me a little crazy to blame God for me not waking up on time, but I felt justified because I have been on this journey of letting God be my alarm clock, claiming his promise in Isaiah 50:4 that “He awakens me morning by morning.” For a good 30 seconds I basked in my ignorant frustration, feeling that I was in the right and that God had failed not me, He was the one who hadn’t come through in fulfilling the promise.

Just as quickly as my need to cast blame had come, another thought came to my mind, this time God asking me if He had really failed me. It was then that I remembered a similar moment just over an hour earlier. I had rolled over in my bed and peered down at my phone to see the number 4:45, which upon seeing I promptly told God it was too early, rolled back over, and surrendered once again to sleep. In that moment, God had a lesson for me that wasn’t too pleasant to hear first thing in the morning, but that was a much-needed lesson and I’d venture to guess that I’m not the only one who struggles in this area, so here it is.

First, God reminded me that He is faithful and that His Word is true. Guys, the Bible is FULL of promises that God is just waiting for us to claim so that He can come through for us! I have been on a journey for a while now of learning to see His promises, claim them, believe them, and pray over them. But it isn’t always easy. The one about Him waking me up in the morning is a daily reminder to me that He is faithful. But there are other ones that I feel like I’ve been claiming and circling in prayer for so long, yet I see nothing happening and it can be so frustrating! At times I want to give up on the promise, but He reminds me that He is faithful and that there will be a fulfillment of what He said.

Second, God taught me that I don’t get to make the rules. When I claim a promise of God in the Bible, I do not then get to dictate to God how and when He fulfills that promise. When I rolled back over at 4:45 that morning I was in essence telling God that I get to determine when He acts. I am the one who gets to claim the promise, I am not the one who fulfills it and thus I do not get to determine the specifics of how and when it comes about. Who knows what kinds of blessings God had in store for me that morning at 4:45, but I forfeited my right to that blessing when I told Him “no” and “later.”

So, my question to you today is what promises are you claiming? What promises are you awaiting fulfillment? Claiming a promise can be a scary thing because we project our own characteristics onto God. As humans we are terrible at coming thorough on things for others, and so we immediately project that onto God believing that He won’t come through either. But He is not like us, in Numbers 23:19 it says “does He speak and then not act? Does He promise and not fulfill?” God is in the business of fulfilling promises, we are the ones who continually break agreement with Him. Learning to claim His promises has stretched and grown my faith so much, and I would encourage you to search the Bible and claim His promises. Let Him come through for you. But I also must warn you, this isn’t about telling God what to do. If you are already claiming promises, take a good look and see if there is anything you are doing that is telling God “no,” “later,” or “I’m in control.”

If you aren’t claiming promises, but want to start, know that it’s not going to be a walk in the park. Your patience will be tested, you will want to throw in the towel, you will likely wrestle with doubt at some point. However, I also know that it will be worth it. You will grow in your dependence on God, you will grow in faith, you will grow in your prayer life. Then, when you finally see the fulfillment of your promise, you will know that it was God at work in your life. We honestly have a very limited view of what God is doing in our lives, we have no clue what God is doing behind the scenes: what walls are about to fall, what mountains are about to move, or what doors are about to open. Seek God and ask Him what promise He wants you to claim today. Maybe it’s the promise of His continual presence, maybe it is the promise that He will be found by you, maybe it is the promise of His peace, or maybe it is the promise that His grace extends to you. I don’t know what it is for you, but press closer to God and let Him show you what you need from Him, and let Him come through for you! Believe that He has covered you, that He has chosen you, and that He is the ultimate promise keeper.

The Power of Truth

I just came off of three incredible weeks journeying with 14 teenagers through the Disciple Trek program at Cohutta Springs youth camp. Some of you have been waiting to hear how it went after my last blog post and now I am here to tell you that God showed up! We plunged deep in God’s Word, connection with Him, and connection with each other. Last week I came up for air before plunging right back in this week out on the west coast. Any doubts I had at the beginning of this journey have long been silenced and my excitement has been increasing.

People say that the youth are the future of the church, but that is only half of the picture we need to be looking at. The other half is that young people are the church of today. There is an unmatched energy in them that springs forth ready to be engaged with and poured out when they discover the beautiful God the Bible describes. Far too many people have been stuck with the wrong picture of God. When I hear the pictures of God that some people hold it breaks my heart because I wouldn’t want to serve a God like they are thinking of either. I don’t believe in a God who is just waiting for you to mess up, who demands things from you for love, or who decides everything for you. No, I believe in a God who is just waiting for you to turn to Him, who freely gives His love in exceeding abundance to you, and who allows you to choose.

There has been no more rewarding experience in my life than to see the light bulbs go off in these young people’s minds. It has been amazing to be there and experience with them the moments that altered their view of God, when they finally saw that the God of love they want to believe in is actually there. Society may have muddled the picture for a time, but the truth will win out, and when it does it is life altering. I have seen 14 young people come out of their shells and be empowered by the truth they found. It wasn’t enough to just learn it and experience it for 3 weeks. They found a community worth standing with and a message worth standing for. It makes my heart so glad to see them continuing to be community for each other, even after just one week apart, and planning for ways to share the joy of what they found!

This is what the church should resemble at all levels. The early church in Acts that expanded so rapidly had deep community and a desire to share. If we want to see changes within our churches and within our society then we have to follow their example. At the root of it all is the willingness to be vulnerable. Yes, vulnerability can be painful and uncomfortable, but we are called not to be complacent but to enter into the uncomfortable areas. Vulnerability with God allows for closer relationship with Him, the ability to see His beauty, and the opportunity to catch the vision He has for His people. Vulnerability with each other allows for deeper community where healing can be found and unity in mission for God can be fostered. As I plunge into another round of 3 weeks with new youth I am so excited to see new community built, more light bulbs going off, and more disciples on fire for God being formed!

Fighting off the Fears and Doubts

Just write. That’s the message I heard when I sat down for my 3-hour solo time today. I am at camp, gearing up for a summer of working with teenagers in a program called DiscipleTrek. Today was the last day we as staff have the camp to ourselves, and part of it was spent preparing ourselves by enjoying some solo time with God. I found my corner, made myself comfortable, and sat with a slightly unsteady feeling. I had all of these pent-up thoughts and emotions that I didn’t know how to express or even what was necessarily going to come out when expression occurred.

The thing is, it’s been this way for a few months. I’ve been stuck in a rut, feeling like my relationship with God was at a stagnant place, like I was getting nowhere. I didn’t like it, so I avoided quiet times and I avoided writing (here and in my journal). I didn’t know how to express what I felt, but today God brought me to the place that I could do that. He got me alone for 3 hours and sat with me until I worked it out. He started it by simply telling me to write. And so, I did, I started my journal entry with the words I heard from Him: “just write.” Getting the ink to start flowing on the paper, started the thoughts flowing in my mind.

What came out was a realization of how equally excited and terrified I am for this summer. Excitement at being able to work at two different summer camps with teenagers who are wanting to go deeper in their relationship with Christ. Excitement at being able to build relationships within a group and journey together through whatever God has to reveal to us. Yet, there is a part of me that matches this excitement with fear. Fear that I won’t make those connections, that I won’t help those teens deepen their faith. Fear that this could show that I am not cut out for the path I’ve started down over the last year because God called me out, onto a new path of pursuing ministry full-time.

This beautiful God who called me, met me there today in my excitement, fear, and doubt. He showed me Matthew 4:1-11, His own time of temptation. In reading through that, I saw that the devil likes to attack us when we are weak and he likes to use doubt. Two of the three temptations Satan threw at Jesus included the line “if you are the Son of God…” He was trying to get Jesus to accept the doubt, and he does the same to us. If he can get us to entertain the doubt he throws at us, then he can start to get us to accept his lies as truth as well.

One of the staff members here brought up an idea in one of our worships that caught my attention and that Jesus brought back to my mind during this time. It was the idea that the things that give us anxiety are actually things that we care deeply about. So, for me, the worry and doubt I was feeling about being able to connect with these campers who come tomorrow and being able to effectively share Jesus with them, is partially due to the fact that I care deeply about people and being able to journey alongside them. I care about showing young people a more beautiful picture of God.

I was reminded today of the good God I serve. He reminded me that He is the one who called me, and He is not going to leave me high and dry, to figure it out on my own when He is the One who led me here. He also reminded me that it is not me who will be bringing about transformation this summer, it is Him. I may be here as the human vessel through which He can work, but it is not me accomplishing anything. I want so badly to do this right, to see the fruit. Yet, this is not what He has asked of me. He has not asked me to have all the right answers or all the right words. He has asked me to be willing to let Him use me. He has asked me to stand in a position where I am able to reflect Him, letting those I come in contact with see His beauty.

Take it from me, you won’t get it all right and you won’t always know what to do. You also won’t always feel like you are moving along spiritually. But here is a beautiful truth: your faith is not dictated by your feelings. My faith should be dictated by who I know God to be. I know Him to be love, faithful, true, gentle, kind, and powerful. It is based off of these that my faith stands. It is not off of how I feel at a particular moment. And when I don’t necessarily feel God, but maintain my grasp on His promises and Word, that is what an outworking of my faith looks like. When doubts and fears begin swirling around in my mind, but I choose to rebuke them and instead look to my God and claim His promises: that is faith. I don’t know what faces you this summer or the rest of this year, but if you have been called by God to something and you are doubting your ability to carry it out know that you can’t. But God can, and if He has asked you to join Him in His work, then He will be faithful to work in you and through you.