Trust. (Part 2)

And God answered. He said "yes" in an incredibly powerful and mind-blowing way. He doesn't always say "yes," but He did this time.

I trusted, He did the rest. Yes, I doubted Him, I wondered if anything was happening, and I was tempted to believe that He wouldn't come through for me. But I had to choose trust. I had to choose to believe in His goodness and the quality of His timing.

It's at times like these where my faith is strengthened and I am reminded that God really does care and His ways are best. Because, had everything gone smoothly, I wouldn't have had the lesson in trust that I did this way. It's also at times like these where the prayers in my journal are something like this...

Jesus, thank you, thank you, thank you. You have shown me again and again that You do take care of me and You do keep Your promises that You made in Your Word.... Jesus, I give You all honor, glory, and power....

All glory to the Father. His Name is worthy of all honor and glory and praise.

Trust in Him today. It probably won't be easy and it most likely won't be fun, but trust me, it will be worth it.

Trust. (Part 1)

Even just saying the word is hard. It doesn't slide off the tongue near as easy as "fear" does. It seems every aspect of trust is challenging. Trust cannot simply be given, but is something that must be earned. It cannot be turned off and on and changed out like a light bulb. And while it is fragile, risky, vulnerable, and very scary at times, it is one of the greatest blessings. For what is friendship without trust? What is my relationship to the Creator without complete, vulnerable trust?

So why can't I always just believe in faith that God will come through, instead of swinging back and forth from fear to trust, trust to fear? In my head I knew that God and His ways are good and He will always do what is best for me, but my heart wavered like a blade of grass in the wind... first one way and then another. Doubts came creeping into my mind, forcefully extracting any leftover bits of trust. I was almost at the end of myself. Peace- where was it?

But I waited. I chose to lead my heart to trust again. I chose to believe that God means what He says. I chose to believe His promises. "Trust in the Lord with all you heart, and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil." Proverbs 3:5-7 And I chose to believe that God would do what glorifies Him the most. Peace was present.

It's at these times where I learn the most. When all I have is dependency on God, and there is nothing I can do to make a difference, except trust and pray, pray and trust. These are the times that draw me to Him, leading me closer and closer to His heart. These are the times when the prayers in my journal look like this...

Jesus, thank You for Your peace. Thank You for Your timing. Thank You for Your help and grace.... Thank You for everything You're teaching me.

I trust Your timing, and I truly don't want anything else!

Jesus, You are my ALL. You are all I need....

Glorify yourself  in this situation. I know You will and I trust You in the methods You want to use, even when it doesn't make sense to me or when it's hard to believe that you're working....

I want what You want, Jesus. 

365 Days Without Her

A year ago today.

Shock... Pain... Loss... Confusion... Tears... Grief... Grace. Unimaginable grace.

I look back and remember that dark Tuesday. The incredible shock and loss felt impossible to recover from. It felt like the tears would never stop. Everything was shaken. Everything I knew was affected by Anja's death. My friendships, my family, my faith. Pain took on a new meaning. No longer was it far away or vague in any way. It was so clear, yet so confusing; extremely hurtful, though almost numbing. Looking back, I remember the raw pain of shock and loss. But I also remember grace. So, so much grace. God's grace was so close, holding me and all the other hurting people around me.


Today.

Grief... Redemption.  Pain... Healing.  Tears... Grace. Unimaginable grace.

I will never forget the life of such an inspiring young woman and friend. I will never forget the terrible pain of her departure. I will always remember the day she left us. But though I remember, grieve, and still feel the pain, I have found healing, again and again. Time comes and goes, and with time comes healing. Jesus brings redemption because He redeems ugly and terrible things. He takes bad things and turns them into beautiful things. It's still so hard to understand sometimes, but God's grace isn't any less than it was the day she passed away. I am amazed to look back and realize how far God has brought me. He never gave up on me. He never left my side even when I doubted His goodness. His grace has always been there and it still is.


The heart of Jesus is beautiful, though He took all pain and sin on Himself. May He turn my heart more towards Him, shaping me to be like His heart - strong, soft, and beautiful, full of love and grace.

Reflection

Photo credit: Trish Miller

Photo credit: Trish Miller

Content, But Not Comfortable

The soul must continually be inspired and renewed. For as still waters become stagnant, so does a soul that never knows new things. If one is never allowed to see new things, to know new things, or to at least see normal things in a new way, how will the soul gain new vision? How will they know anything different? How will they care for others who have completely different worlds than they do? How will we care for people who have completely different worlds than we do, if we have never known anything but our own pain, our own people, and selfishly discovered beauty? 

Though one may be content with where he is, he must broaden his horizon, his view, his experiences... He must see more beautiful things, discover more wonder, and find more mysteries. For there is great danger in residing where one is completely comfortable with the beauty, pain, and people that surround him. Contentment and comfort are not the same; in fact, they can be complete opposites. 

Therefore, though I strive to be content, I refuse to remain fully comfortable. May we never be so close to full comfort that we become discontent with the slightest bit of discomfort.