Well, hello! This is my first time here at Allume and let me say how excited I am about being here! I joined the team back in August but have been living in a whirlwind adjusting to having my husband back home (Army wife, here), the end of graduate school, the end of one job, the beginning of another, and – you know – being a wife, sister, friend, teacher. All that. The reason I’ve been MIA is the very topic of today’s little post.

I tend to plan my days down to the second. The exact moment I can sleep til before I’m late, how long my car should heat up before I leave, how many minutes it takes to drive to work, how much time I can teach before the bell rings, how many minutes milliseconds I have to run to the bathroom, how many hours until the buses come, how long I have to make dinner, how long I can blog before bed. You know this drill. 

This need to plan second-by-second can quickly spread from just my day to my life as whole. My paper business is my passion. But, running the business at night leaves me often praying for “that day” when it will support our family on its own. Though I never forget to thank God for His blessings in my day, I find my prayers filled with quite a few “when?”s. Lately, more than ever, the Lord has been showing me that though I may logistically plan the happenings of my day, my life is on His time. And, y’all, what is so bad about that? 

I’ll tell you what: that I’m not in control.

My selfish heart wants to pick my own “that day” where Puddleduck miraculously pays all our bills. I want to know the next step, the next chapter. Lately when I find myself grumbling about the ambiguity of my path, I can truly hear God reminding me that He’s got this. Not the check-on-me-every-now-and-then kind of ‘got this’, but the hold-me-in-his-arms, mold-me-perfectly-in-his-will kind. Then, just like that, I go from disheartened and unconfident to uplifted and oh so faithful. I remember that I don’t have to know. I don’t have to make things happen. God gave me the heart and talent to do what I do, He will use me as He sees fit. Which, is better than anything I ever have in mind. every. single. time. 

I’m learning to stop asking “when?” and start praying for a trusting, patient heart. 

I wrote a cute post for today. It had a fun theme, I had it planned in my head for two weeks, and over the weekend I felt convicted to write something else. 

You see, that post? The cute one? It was all about me. It pointed to me. To what I wanted to say, what I wanted to tell you about myself with a little twist at the end that added a sprinkling of God. Sometimes in this amazing online community – even when I’m surrounded by women who love & shine Christ – it becomes about me. It becomes about writing something that will be reTweeted and shared on Facebook, about comparing myself to the “big bloggers” and creating my “brand” online.

It needs to be about Him. 

God doesn’t want to be a seasoning at the end of a blog post, something so subtle that a reader might not be able to tell that what I write is for God’s glory and not mine. He calls US to be the salt and light. He doesn’t say “go live your life and, if you think of Me, add a quick mention of Me at the end.” I am convicted by the grace of a God who loves me enough to pull me away from myself. He reminds me to give glory in all things because He alone is the One who provides. Everything I write about, the words I use, the ability to use social media to communicate a message – those are gifts from Him to do His work in this ever changing world. 

God loves community. He created the first community with Adam & Eve when He Himself determined that it was not good for Adam to be alone. We are created to live life together, and the blessings of blogging and social media have been tremendous assets in my relationship with Christ. I have found accountability, encouragement and friendship. But I have also allowed myself to become so caught up in trying to be all things for all people across all areas of my life – including social media – that I become empty. And I try to keep pouring out and suddenly it becomes easier for it to become all about me. Sweet friends – take time to refill. 

God love us enough to use us where we are. Even – maybe especially – when we are empty. I am humbled to my knees when He reminds me that I am chosen, loved, and redeemed. You are chosen by the God who created the entire universe. You were given talents and gifts by the God who formed everything from nothing. He loves you, and we’re called to be part of community and love one another because the One who designed our lives is Love. God has great plans to use your life for His glory, He has plans for good, He has plans to redeem. Take time to be filled. 

I don’t write this because I have it all together. I write these words because I’m, quite frankly, a big messy work in progress. As it is written so beautifully in Philippians 3:12-14: “I’m not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don’t get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I’ve got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward – to Jesus. I’m off and running, and I’m not turning back.”

The cool, crisp air slipped past my skin as footsteps fell on crushed gravel paths. No music, no TV, no small child climbing me like a jungle gym. Everything was simplified.

Not me.

Photo Credit

I constantly am a victim, in my own head (and {ahem}…as told to my husband in the quiet of our own home).

I constantly am more tired than anyone else.

I constantly am busier than everyone else.

I constantly am more stressed than anyone else.

I always am the worst at this or that.

I constantly am “struggling” with something (I use that word all the time).

 Through my eyes, this life I live is rough; no… it’s the worst, most difficult, challenging life EVER! (dramatic much?).

I’m constantly in the muddy “pit of destruction” in my own mind.

This dramatic pattern in my thinking started in my middle school years. I was never very good at math, so my Engineer father became my tutor. Despite all of his wonderful qualities, a fitting tutor for his daughter wasn’t necessarily his best or easiest role. He and I are very similar; temper and all. Without fail, within 10 minutes into our tutoring session I would be in tears screaming, “I can’t do this! My life is over! I’m going to fail out of school!” Sadly, this routine continued all the way through high school. Confession: there *may* have been a few tutoring sessions through college as well {clears throat}, but I digress… Did I fail out of school? No! Did I even come close to failing? No! But I learned a pattern…when something doesn’t go my way I break down and tell myself, “This is it. My life is over. I’m going to fail!” 

Most people in my life don’t see this side of me. But it’s there. It’s right under the surface of my smiling face and bubbly personality. I can go from happy-go-lucky to my-life-is-the-worst in one second flat.

I’m not proud of my behavior, but I’ve recently spoken with some women who confess they live as a constant “victim” in their own minds as well. 

Why? Why do some of us find solace in playing the victim? Why do we seek to classify ourselves as the worst, ugliest, fattest, most hopeless person in the room? Why do we like to hangout in this low place, why do we like to hangout in the mud? We could chalk it up to hormones, but let’s be honest, that’s just an excuse!

At some point in our lives we learned that we would get the response we wanted by playing the victim.

As a middle school math student, I learned that when I reacted this way, my father’s escalating anger would slowly dissipate into the type of attention I wanted; compassion and love. He would simmer down to the snuggly Dad I wanted. In those one-on-one tutoring sessions with my Dad I ended up with what I really desired; not his help with my homework, but his love and attention.

 So why do I continue to play victim? Why do I consistently put myself in a downward spiral towards life-is-overness? 

Simply put; I get something out of it. I feel good in that “pit” (even though I know a muddy dress isn’t very classy…).

Maybe I feel good in the pit because the only way out is up? Or maybe I feel good in that pit because it’s an excuse not to step out in faith, to face challenges? Maybe I like being in that pit because it’s a place where I’m “in control”? Maybe I like being in that pit because that’s where I receive compassion and love from those around me? Maybe I like being in that pit because I like being covered with dirt and having something to hide behind?

Why do you end up in that “pit”?

Why do you allow yourself to spiral downward?

Where or from whom did you learn this behavior?

If you have trusted Jesus Christ as your personal Lord and Savior, you need not fear. He has already conquered that pitiful place for you. He died and rose again so that we do not have to go there. We can live in peace and joy knowing that our lives are in the hands of our Almighty God. Whatever challenges we face, we face with Him, who is our shield and strength. The pit is lonely and depressing; and the kind of attention we seek can only be fulfilled in the arms of our Savior.

“I waited patiently for the Lord; he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire;
He set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a new song in my mouth a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear and put their trust in the Lord”
– Psalm 40: 1-3

He has already redeemed us from that low place; we do not need to return. We are not victims, but rather Daughters of the One True King. Let’s walk with our shoulders straight, our heads held high, and our dresses clean—let’s not return to the pit, for our dresses look better without the mud!

I feel upturned. Inside, mostly. I told my mom over coffee this morning that I don’t understand why God does this to me.

“God does this to you?” she smirked, swirling her morning tea with a spoon. She paused, letting the cream swirl in that beautiful caramel circle as she turned to me. “God does this to you. Hm. Have you looked in the mirror lately?”

I gave her a fake frown. Sipped my coffee. Rolled my eyes. And then said, “Well, yes I have. Why?”

I sometimes imagine God as a puppet master. His entertainment is pulling on the strings that make our arms and legs jerk helplessly, against our will. He pulls us along and displays a beautiful scene, but inside I feel like nothing more than an example of someone who has gone slightly mad.

I know this view of him is wrong. It’s a shadow of truth and lies. I take it to the cross and bury it there in tears. I can almost relate to St. Catherine of Siena when she refers to God as “Oh Divine Madman!” Except she does so because she sees his insane love for us. I whisper those words because I fear the worst.

So I stare into this mirror and I see broken pieces of what I do not understand. I look and I see myself. This curly-haired, green-eyed, somewhat frenetic mess of a girl. It’s her who is running me into the ground. It’s those eyes that never close, these ears that selectively hear, these hands that wring, this mouth that speaks doubt. This mind behind it all that dreams, and plans, and hopes against all hope, and crashes when all hope seems lost. I see her. I see her clearly. It’s Him I see dimly.

I think of that scene, in Pride and Prejudice (the new one, though I’m still blood-loyal to the BBC version) where Lizzie stares at a mirror for what seems to be hours, even as Mr. Darcy comes into the room and leaves her a truth-revealing letter. She stares into a mirror that grows darker with the night. The truth at her side, she stares into candlelight and things dimly lit. As am I — staring and missing the truth.

At what point will I rest my puppet arms, and lean back into His? When can I untie my own strings and turn from my own madness? I want to look into a mirror that loses its self-reflection, and instead becomes a looking glass into truth. When will I breathe deep and let go of that gnawing lie that I have to control everything? That lie is grinding my soul into fine dust.

He blows on that dust, it scatters on the surface of glass, and I look for the truth that sets me free. A fracture of light skims and dives into my heart.

“For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Romans 7:23-25

I’m a mother.

My babies call me “Ta-ta” instead of “Ma-ma” and they change depending on the day. Some days I have a houseful of boys with dirty bare feet and frogs in their pockets. Some days the doors are bursting with giggling pinkness and polka-dotted tea parties.

I never quite know who I will have but I always know who I am. 

I’m a mom. One that runs a farm beside her husband with a baby strapped to her back. One that milks cows and helps young boys learn to do chores and care for sick animals. One that reads Pilgrims Progress and sings Bible verses to teach her little ones the way to life eternal.

Tonight my right arm is aching from having a two-year-old in a baby sling on my hip while I worked in the fields. I John 5:3 is running through my mind from teaching a six-year-old about the importance of obedience. The barn is quiet but all day it echoed with children’s voices. There is no doubt that I have become the mother I’ve always longed to be—even though this body has never born a child and these hands have never signed an adoption certificate. 

I didn’t always spend my days mothering.

For years, I spent days in tears.

After that last doctor’s visit, after I finally recognized that there was no possible way for me to claw my way out of the pit I was drowning in, after every door slammed shut in my face, I broke.

The words stretched my soul until it cracked and bled agony but I spoke them.

“God, I surrender my desires to be a mother. Make me what you would have me be.” 

And the Author and Finisher of my faith reached down, lifted my feet from the miry clay, washed my wounds and sores, rubbed oil on my scars and said, “I would have you be…a mother.” 

It doesn’t look anything like I thought it would. My babies leave at night. They didn’t grow inside me and I’ve never decorated a nursery. They weren’t handed to me by an orphanage worker or a midwife.

But they sit at my table day after day. They wrap their arms around my neck and ask for kisses on stubbed toes. I teach them to pray and to sing and to dance in the rain.

Just like birth or adoption makes some women mothers these little ones have birthed motherhood in me. For years I looked around and only saw a glorified babysitter, passing time until her own babies filled her home but now I see true. I see what I am. I see who they are. I see God’s redemption painting my life with brilliant colors of freedom.

And I’m learning to claim the title that I earned with every diaper change, every meal cooked, every hour spent, every prayer whispered, every lesson taught and every mess cleaned. I’m a mother. 

God made me what I always longed to be, in a way that I never expected, and my one simple step to start the process was surrender.

I’ve seen it over and over. First the surrender, then the change and the doors swinging open to redemption and glory. In motherhood. In my writing. In my friendships. In my marriage. 

May the lost dreams that are building sorrow in your life lead you to the foot of the cross and may you taste the miracle of heart-longings redeemed. 

Are there titles that you long for that are staying just out of reach? Do you dream of being a writer but your audience seems too small, your words too raw and broken? Surrender is always the first step towards redemption. Let’s embrace it, together, and claim the titles that He gives us. 

It was one of “those” weeks. Nothing was going right at work. I was irritated with my boss, the clothes in my closet, and life in general.  Our baby girl was sick and refused to eat. My alarm failed to go off three days in a row and I missed my time at the gym. I messed up my shower routine and shaved my legs BEFORE washing my hair. I put blush on before my foundation. I had to iron a shirt with my straight iron (on the plus side, it worked!). During my quiet time on our deck my sweet husband locked me out of the house.

Locked. Out.

In my pjs.

At 6:30 a.m.

And he got in the shower, so my annoyed, pounding on the door was futile. I fumed. I fussed. I finally remembered where the spare key was hidden. Off I traipsed, around the yard in my shabby pajamas, barefoot, annoyed, and had to try EVERY DOOR before I found the one our key opened.

Y’all didn’t know I was so full of grace and loveliness in the mornings, did you? Oh yes. I’m a charmer. Ahem.

I wish I could tell you that God spoke a good Word into my heart while I was in the shower that morning, about forgiveness or being still and enjoying the time I had outside with His creation.  But I can’t lie to you. I’m entirely too humbled to share this space to make myself out to be more than I am. I was just fed up with the foolishness of my week and wanted to cry “uncle.” Or just cry.

Instead, I write to you. I tell you about my bad week, hoping it will make someone feel less alone for not having the perfect reaction all the time. And as it gets out of my head and onto the screen, it makes space to hear God to remind me that He is doing a good work in my heart, whether I recognize it or not. He has plans for me, changes He desires in my heart and my relationship with Him, and the big one, right now, is prayer. He wants me to learn to pray, to follow the example of the faithful in scripture, like Nehemiah.

Nehemiah who chose prayer first, action second (if at all). Nehemiah  prayed for months when he heard what was happening in Jerusalem (Chapter 1) before he had an opportunity to act. He prayed under his breath before asking permission to go rebuild the wall (Chapter 2). He prayed when the builders were under attack (Chapter 4), before arming them and reminding them to focus on God and their families, and on and on.

God wants me to trust that He hears me, as frustrated as I am when I feel like a broken record and nothing seems to change for months at a time. When I feel attacked. When I forget why I’m doing what it is He called me to do. When I feel locked out of where I think I should be and nothing I do is working, He wants me to pray.

I’m nearly 30, and I admit that I don’t really know how to pray. I can say the words, sure, but my heart isn’t always engaged. I am, however, desperate and willing to learn. If this is an area you struggle with, I’d invite you to join me in asking God to reveal how we can unlock the doors to a fruitful and sweet prayer life with Him.

As I study through Nehemiah this summer, I’m committing to pray faithfully for God to reveal to my heart how He wants me to use the passions and talents He’s given me, to open doors and to walk in faith. What has God asked you to commit to prayer this season?

I am a writer, a gatherer of moments. I look for things that inspire, for drops of grace, for moments of beauty around me, so that I can capture them and pass them on.  I see them often in my children. My mind records the snapshot with a “click,” and I return to it later and paint it with words.

Moments stored do not fill.

Moment stored do not lessen future pain.

Moments stored may age like wine and bless us later.

Moments stored water my soul and help me to love.

• I remember that the noisy, dirty creatures messing up my house each day are people, beloved by God, wonderful works of His hand.
• I remember that I am a child of God—weak, and loved.
• I remember that my Father sees me, knows me, cares for me.
• I remember that I am here to receive love and to love.

Weak and Loved: A Mother-Daughter Love Story by Emily Cook will be FREE for your kindle on Amazon July 15-19. (You do not have to own a kindle to read the digital version.) Get it HERE.  Having trouble? Contact Emily.

How about you? Do you gather moments? Why do you gather them?

Emily Cook is an experienced child-wrangler and mother of six, who laughs and writes to keep her sanity. She is the author of Weak and Loved: A Mother-Daughter Love Story. Read more by Emily at www.weakandloved.com. She’s sure to make you laugh, think, pray, smile, or gag.

This last month has been a month of trials, tests, and lots of trust.

When you go through such seasons, do you ever stop and think about how God is working in your life at that moment? Maybe He has asked you to step out in faith and explore something new. The moment you step onto the path, something jumps in front of you, seemingly blocking the way. You cannot pass until it moves, or you simply push pass it.

In June we began the process of adoption. It wasn’t long before the attacks began. Oh yes. Satan will throw those darts to try to veer anyone off the path God has set for them. You better believe it.

In the last few weeks alone, my husband was on the brink of losing his entire career. I went through a week of the possibility of being pregnant (which would not be good for adoption, I’m afraid). And my husband injured himself at work, which could have potentially put him out of work for a season, forcing us to dip into adoption funds.

When you’re in the middle of facing a trial without knowing the outcome, you have two choices:

1. Panic  or
2. Trust

Most often our first reaction is to panic.

I think sometimes we mistake the trials that come from following God’s will to not be God’s will. We believe that if it’s in God’s will, it should come with ease. Oh this is so not the case.

There is an enemy out there working against us because God is working for us. He does not want us to succeed and he will aim at the heart of our own fears in order to stop God’s work. It’s so important for us to recognize this work.

I have clung to the promise God has made to us throughout each attack and prayed accordingly. Each attack, if it were carried through to completion, could have destroyed our ability to adopt.

It’s so important to know what God has spoken to you specifically because that is what you will stand on and trust as you work your way through the trial. Do not look at the things that are seen, but trust the unseen. This is a faith that doesn’t come without battling prayer. Flesh and self want to come in and reason and use logic and it may appear sensible; but it’s simply not what God has told you.

Mary DeMuth says it beautifully in her book, Beautiful Battle:

Spiritual warfare has more to do with the state of your heart before a holy God than a list of things to do or avoid. It involves interaction, sometimes confusion, falling down, getting back up. It involves your willingness to look foolish, to take crazy steps, to trust God’s voice. While there are principles to know and practice, it’s your ability to trust God’s power and authority that will bring about the victorious life.

 (Disclaimer: God’s voice must line up with His word. He will not contradict what is written in the Bible). 

When God speaks to you about stepping out in faith, keep your eyes and ears only on Him. Stand firm on what He has told you and ask Him for confirmations to be certain you’re hearing Him.

You can read more about our adoption here.

If you’re interested in helping to support our adoption, you can buy Avodah coffee and a percentage of it goes to help fund our adoption. Thank you for your support and prayers!

Note: Only the link in this button will be counted toward adoption support. Thanks!

 

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I stood by her bedside.. while she prepared to take her last breath. I almost didn’t come here.

I haven’t seen my friend in a few years. There was a day when we would get-together. I would share Christ with her, and listen to her struggles –while waiting for her to follow the way of Christ – to bear her burdens. We would talk about her doubt in the existence of God. She was a dear friend…and always so full of life. She has red hair, and the spunk to match.

And then… she moved away. I didn’t see her for a time.

Now, I am torn – I have heard that in the short time we lost touch, that she was diagnosed with cancer. She was dying. I had no idea. I would have been there for her. But now, someone tells me that she is home..waiting. She has children, and a husband. I have fears, and wonder if I should go to her home during these last days.

I pray and know I must go. I hold her hand and talk. Her eyes are closed and I can tell she is listening. I pray over her- and she turns her head towards my face. Eyes closed. I begin to cry.

I pause. Holding her hand in the quiet. Her new husband is watching me. I have never met him. I am sure he must think I am a stranger… but he begins to say – “ Are you the friend that she has spoken to me about – the friend that always shared Christ with her, and encouraged her when life was so hard?” He spoke of more specifics, and then he said..” I have to tell you something that she would want you to know….”

“She came to know Christ as her personal Saviour last year, and knew that you would rejoice with her.” “She boldly proclaimed her faith to as many as she could before her cancer claimed her health.” “She has been waiting for you to come.”

My dear, dear friend was going to see Jesus. She listened to His call.

I cried all the way home. She passed into eternity a few hours after I held her hand, and cried over her life.

What if I had never followed the Spirits call to GO. I would have never known that she had given her life to Christ.

I listened – and was led to act.

Do you ever hear the Spirits promptings to encourage another person?

Perhaps you have had a name of a dear brother or sister in Christ come to your heart and mind during the day or night? What we do with those promptings –matters for Christ’s Kingdom. Do you follow through with the whispers of those that might need your voice in their life today?

We are called to be Obedient in so many areas. Listening, and following the lead to pray, speak, or act on another’s pain, burdens or needs, will bless in ways immeasurable. We are One Body – Carrying the burdens of other’s to the Lord, with words of encouragement, acts of service, or unconditional love. The Spirit will complete a work – in and through us.

Encouragement is a calling. Listen to the call, and be obedient. Don’t let His promptings fall on a deaf ear.

The compassion of words, cards, a simple message of hope resonates deep within the spirit.

Imagine the potential of this community if every woman here followed sincere promptings to pray on the behalf of another daily.

I have learned to be still, and hear the spirits calling. Will you join me in this beautiful community, of looking beyond ourselves, to the hearts of others?

Blessed be the tie that binds, our hearts in Christian love.

Can you hear the whisper? Be still. And then follow.

Don’t miss the blessings – They are at every turn.

I said yes to God the other day, driving home from work on a Tuesday. For once in this dreary PA spring it wasn’t raining and I was thinking about how beautiful the sky was. Randomly, in the  middle of that thought, in my heart I heard: “I want you to speak.”

Maybe now is a good time to fill in the blanks.

God isn’t just asking me to talk more at work or at home. He was asking me to put myself out there and offer to speak His truth to a group of high school students in Western PA. Sound scary? Yeah. It is. The worship band that I’m blessed to manage has the opportunity throughout the year to play at youth events, and I’m not being biased at all when I tell you these guys are amazing. God glorifying men who love to use the talents He gave them to share Truth? It gives me chills.

Occasionally we’ll also be asked to speak at one of these events, and either Nick, our electric guitar player, or Chris, our drummer, will share their testimony and speak to the theme of the event. I usually prefer a back stage role.

Did I mention that God asked me to speak? And I said yes? Oh and the theme of the event?

Fear. 

In the time it took me to finish my drive home I had thought of a few good examples I could use – degrees of fear that I’ve experienced. I even thought about sharing with them how hubs (our bass player) and I met, tried to think of funny “openers” and solid verses to encourage them, like Joshua 1:9 “Be strong and courageous, the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go” (my life verse). And then I got scared.

And the enemy started with the “what ifs” and I almost didn’t even tell my husband about it. But I did. And he was supportive. So I sent a text to see if anyone was giving the talk at our show. Ahem. See what I did there? I got nervous and didn’t say “Hey guys, God wants me to do this talk” – which they would have supported 100%. I asked if anyone else was doing it. And someone is, because they always do. So I didn’t say anything else.

If you were hoping for a fairy tale ending, I’m not your girl. My journey in my relationship with Jesus is beautiful, but not perfect. 

I said yes to God. In a “baby steps” kind of way I can be ok knowing that I received His request with an open heart and tried. I won’t consider it a failure that I’m not in front of those students this time. But you can bet I’ll be praying for courage, a new opportunity, and the chance to use this story for His glory. 

God knows the deep places of woman; He created them. But He still invites us to enter in and share them with Him, freely.

When we open the raw, He presses mercy into the pain; the failure; the shame. He doesn’t want us to stay there. He wants to heal us and free us so we can live for Him. He created woman with longing and desire, but often these are wasted on the wrong things; in the wrong places.

After the fall, God said woman’s desire would be for her husband (Genesis 3:16), and while that might be true to an extent, having the redemption of Jesus has changed that.

I remember while I was dating my [now] husband and even in the early years of our marriage, I depended on Him for everything. Even things he just wasn’t capable of providing; that deep desire for constant connection.

I would get upset if he wasn’t with me as often as possible. He couldn’t fill the deep places because they weren’t his to fill.

He simply wasn’t capable of such a constant need in my life. That desire was only something God could fill.

Likewise, other things cannot replace the deep desire for God that we have. Our soul longs for the nurture of our Maker and nothing else will satisfy. Nothing can penetrate that deep place the way the Father can.

Sometimes we don’t even know what it is we need.

When I feel conflicted, I write. In my journal, I write in the raw and it’s there that I dig deep enough to find what it is my soul longs for, and I always find myself in the same place: Jesus. That paths may look different, the needs may vary, but the answer is always the same.

How do you lose yourself in God?

You chase hard after God. Hard. You’ll know what hard means when people start saying things like, “Now, don’t get too crazy about this ‘Jesus thing'”.

Your life will permeate Him and your face will shine His light. People won’t understand the decisions you are making because they are based on the things of God; on the eternal, and not on the ways of man or the things of this world.

Lose yourself in God. Go to the deep places where desire is only fulfilled by meeting with Him. It is there that you will find yourself. Maybe that sounds cliche’. It’s only cliche’ if we speak truth without living truth.

I encourage you, today, make time to go to that place with God.