One Day in December.

Originally written December 16, 2010.

It was one of those days when the weather was perfect, which only happens once or twice a year in Southern Georgia. This time, it happened to be in December. The sixteenth, to be exact. I sat on our front porch swing, my right foot propped up on the seat’s edge, my left pushing against the earth heel-to-toe, gently propelling me forward. My body fell into the rhythm of a heartbeat. I sipped the hot tea, from the mug I had specially chosen--the snowmen and Christmas trees reflected my holiday mood. The windchimes sang with the breeze, and I closed my eyes. Sunbeams flashed gold and orange like autumn leaves through my eyelids. It occurred to me then why God chose to rest on the seventh day of creation. Not because He had to, but because rest was such a beautiful thing. For a moment I wished I had brought out a notebook to write my thoughts in because of the beautiful thoughts I was having. Then I was glad I hadn’t. I was glad to simply rest, to simply be. I could just feel without worrying about capturing the feeling with words. As I writer, I was constantly trying to fit my life into words. But now, as I rocked back and forth in winter’s pale sunlight, I could simply live.

Women are Crazy; Men are Jerks.

I was at a Christian camp when I was informed that there was only one thing to keep in mind in regards to the opposite sex. Men: all women are crazy. Women: all men are jerks. That is what the speaker told us, anyway. Apparently this knowledge was supposed to save us from a lot of heartbreak or something.

I'm not sure exactly when I took up arms in the war of Man vs. Woman that has been raging ever since Adam blamed his fall on Eve. But clearly I must have, because I catch myself saying things such as "Men are dumb; we should throw rocks at them", "Men are scumbags", "Men are [insert negative gender stereotypical blanket statement here]". You get the idea. And when I see the amount of girls' Facebook statuses that are anti-men, I know that I am not alone. Since when have men become the enemy?

Ironically, my musings on this subject were actually instigated by my attack on such a perceived enemy just last night, when I saw a guy's facebook status that read as follows: "has done laundry, cleaned the house and made my meals today. I feel like a woman. As long I dont get moody, indecisive, complain about everything and have sex with some dude that doesnt respect me because I'm scared of being alone I should be alright". After I read it, I was absolutely furious, and retorted to the comment sharply and sarcastically--perhaps with more anger and less thought than I should have.

I went to bed shortly thereafter, but I was too upset to sleep. His comment had been so sexist, so degrading towards women. And people had liked the comment, some of them being girls. Do we really respect ourselves so little?, I wondered. We are daughters of God, and we deserve better.

But the more I thought about it, the more the Spirit began to convict me. Because men are God's creation just as much as women are. They are His sons every bit as much as women are His daughters. And all my past (and present) mindless rantings against men were just as bad as what this particular guy had said against women. Sexism runs both ways. Yes, the daughters of God deserve better. So do His sons.

Which made me incredibly sad. Isn't it just like Satan, to take a relationship that God created to hold such beauty and goodness--men and women, partnering together, encouraging each other, bringing strength to the other's weakness--and instead, pitting men and women against each other, causing us to see each other as enemies? How God must weep when He sees how men and women war against each other, when He first created woman as the answer to man's lonliness (Gen. 2:18)! Warring against each other, when we should be uniting in war against our true Enemy, the one who deceived us from the very beginning.

So men, I am sorry. I am sorry for my cynicsm towards you. I am sorry for bashing you when I should be building you up. I am sorry for expecting the worst of you when I should be praying for the best. I am sorry for describing you with blanket statements when I should be getting to know you as individuals. I am sorry for hating you for your sexism without any regard for my own.

My dear brothers, I don't want to fight you any more. I will continue fighting the lies that have made us enemies for as long as I live, but by the grace of God, I will not fight you. But I will fight with you. Together, as God intended. We are both imperfect human beings, but we are also both made new in the blood of Jesus. And in His kingdom, there is no male or female--there is only Christ (Gal. 3:26-29).

"I Love Them More."

When I am praying for a loved one who is in a bad situation, it hurts. Physical pain, tearing at the pit of my stomach. I feel pain for what they are going through, I take their burdens upon myself and can feel their tangible weight, and sometimes, even in the midst of prayer, I feel so helpless, I don't know what to do.

But when I reach this point of distress, God often takes the time to remind me: "I love them more than you." This always stirs great wonder in me, especially when I am hurting very much for them and cannot understand why God would allow them to go through so much pain. But I know His words are true; I can feel it in the depths of my soul when He speaks quietly to my panic: God loves the people I pray for more than I do. I can trust Him with their circumstance, with their pain, with their very self.

And when I sit back and think about it, it makes me realize how very big is the God we serve. If my heart is breaking for this single person, how much more is His heart, which loves so much more than my own. And His love is not directed toward only this single person, but toward the entire world. Only a God of infinite strength could endure such pain that must inevitably come from loving a people so broken, living in a world so imperfect. And only a God of infinite love would take that pain upon Himself in a sacrifice unto death, that we would be set free.

For the Love of God, Shut Up About the Carpet Color.

I find the existence of denominations in the Christian Church--however inevitable the emergence of those denominations appears to be--incredibly sad. It causes brothers and sisters in the faith to create divisive labels,  as we identify ourselves as a "Baptist" or "Catholic" or "Pentecostal" rather than as a Christian. We begin to follow a theology rather than following Christ, and hold so tight to the words of our specific doctrine that we close our minds off to everything else, even the very words the Holy Spirit may be speaking to us.

You know what I've realized? Every one of our denominations is flawed. None of us has the perfect picture. None of us have all the answers. The Word of God makes this clear in 1 Corinthians 13:12, "Now we see a dim reflection, as if we were looking into a mirror, but then we shall see clearly. Now I know only a part, but then I will know fully, as God has known me."

But we do have some answers, bits and pieces of the puzzle that have revealed to us by the Spirit. Every denomination has its weaknesses, but it also has its strengths. Don't you think we could learn something from each other? What if we all came together, as brothers and sisters in Christ, sharing our opinions with open hearts and open minds, agreeing to disagree about the little things, the petty things? How powerful would that be, if we all truly united as one Body, the way God intended His Church, His Bride, to be?

It seems impossible, but as children of God, the impossible is what we are called to. We have to let go of our need to "be right" all the time, humble ourselves and admit that we don't have all the answers, and that's okay. What we do know is that, above all else, our God has called us to love, the way He loves, for "Knowledge puffs you up with pride, but love builds up," (1 Corinthians 8:1). God does not call us to be a people who knows everything; He calls us to be a people who loves.

Because Today, I Don't Feel Like Writing.

Tonight, I don't really have anything to write. Fresh out of inspiration. To be honest, after writing eleven pages of my novel today, I just don't feel like writing at the moment. Is that okay? Will you worship with me instead?

This song came on my Pandora radio station just a few minutes ago. And I thought it was such a beautiful, powerful song, to sing to our Jesus. So take a moment, let go of the distractions. Whatever it takes for these five minutes. Listen to the words. Let the music move you. In Spirit, and in truth.

The Truth About Love (Dare You to Read It All).

Originally written July 30, 2009. 

I used to wonder why those romance movies were all the same. How two lovers endured through trials and struggles to be together, and then lived happily ever after, made complete in each other. Why do our hearts yearn for that kind of love to be true? 

The answer is: because we were created for that kind of love. The problem came when we took that fairy-tale to the world and asked for fulfillment, instead of taking it to God, the Lover of our souls, who was the only fulfillment. And I hear girls sigh as they long for such romance, and I watch girls grow bitter as their hearts break time after time, the world screaming at them: the stories are all make-believe; there is no fairy-tale for you. And I see girls, beautiful girls, settle for cheap experiences and cheap imitations of this thing called love, because they no longer believe they are worthy of anything more. 

Beloved, you have listened to the lies of the enemy for too long. You walk around in sackcloth, when God longs to clothe you in white. You walk around weeping, when God longs to put a smile on your face. You walk alone, when God longs to pick you up in His arms and carry you. You strive, you strive, you strive, because you believe the lie that you are not worthy to be loved, and somewhere deep in your heart you think if I can just be good enough, then I will be worth loving. My sisters, I plead with you, open your eyes! God is ready to pour out bucketloads of His love and peace and and joy and freedom! All you have to do is lower your walls of unbelief. Believe the truth, beloved. The truth is: You are beautiful. You are loved. You are a glorious bride. You are a daughter of the King. To believe anything else about yourself is to call God a liar. To believe anything else about yourself is to settle for less than your destiny. 

If you have not had an encounter with Truth before, I pray it over each one of you. Because these words alone are not enough. But the power of Truth and Love stands behind these words, and I know that power is enough to break down any barrier, break away any chains--for that power comes from God. He is Love, and His word is Truth. With that power I write these words, with that power I pray over you. 

I call out to you as a sister who has experienced that power and been changed by it. I call out to you as a girl who believes in fairy-tales again. I call out to you as a woman who has decided that it’s worth the risk to say: Yes, I am beautiful. Yes, I am royalty. Yes, I am loved. Yes, I am significant. No, not because I worked hard enough and finally reached the goal. I am all those things because I came to my Daddy-King as a dirty mess, and He cleaned me up and made me holy and called me His own. Then He spoke the truth over me. He told me I was beautiful, royal, loved, a world-changer. For a long time, I didn’t believe Him. But after years of striving, I finally stopped, got on my knees, and cried out to Him. And this time, when He told me how much He loved me, I said, “Okay, Daddy. I believe You.” Then I crawled into His lap, and I’ve been resting there ever since. Sometimes the old ways of thinking come back, sometimes for a few moments I clamber down again and try to wade through the muck of life in my own strength. But then I remember who I am. And my laughter bubbles over, for my Prince Charming loves me with a Love that moves mountains and turns back death. I know my happily ever after has already been won. So I rest again, secure in His promise. Call me crazy, or naive. But I have tasted and seen the goodness of His love, and I refuse to turn back. I am so thankful that I have found my fairy-tale...yet my heart hurts for so many who are missing theirs. 

Don't you see? This promise is for you! Believe the truth, precious one. With God, the impossible is made possible. Dreams do come true. There is such a thing as true love. Come Beloved, with the child-like faith that the world could never quite bury. Your fairy-tale is waiting for you. 

And suddenly she smiled. Because for the first time in her life, she silenced the lies, and in the stillness heard her Father whisper the only truth there ever was: “Beloved, you are beautiful.” 

Who? He Is.

We have many names for God, many words we use to describe Him. In fact, I'll bet that if we sat down to write a list, we could continue on into eternity. Infinite names for an infinite God, for no one name can truly describe Him.

But out of all God's names, the one I find to be the most fascinating is that which He ascribed to Himself as He spoke to a trembling man from a burning bush: I AM (Exodus 3:14). Is that not the most comforting name for our Father to have? He is who He is. Yesterday, today, forever. Regardless of our belief in Him or our misconceptions about Him, He is who He is. He does not change His nature to suit our culture, or to fit more easily into our finite minds. He doesn't need an explanation, He doesn't need to be defended. He simply is. Not was, not will be. Is. He is. Forever and always.