"She Did All She Could."

The other day, as i was going through a box of old things in my closet, I found one of my old Bibles.
My very first one actually. The leather's pink and a little torn, 
Anna Marie Lang engraved in silver letters on the front. 
As I opened it up and leafed thorough it's old pages, I found a bookmark.

It read, "She did all she could." -Mark 14:8.

You see, she is someone I want to be like.

She knew Jesus. And her story is in the Bible. It's one of my very favorites. 
When Jesus was in a place called Bethany, as He sat the table in the home of his friend, she came in. 
She held in her hands an alabaster jar of very expensive perfume, made of pure nard.
She broke the jar. And she poured the perfume out of the jar onto Jesus' head.

People began whispering. Indignantly, they said to one another, 
"Why this waste of perfume? 
It could have been sold for more than a year's wages 
and the money given to the poor."

They judged her. 
They looked down on her. 
They rebuked her. 
Harshly.

But Jesus looked up at them, and he said, "Leave her alone."

He defended her.

He said, "She has done a beautiful thing to me."

"The poor you will always have with you, 
and you can help them anytime you want. 
But you will not always have me.
She did all she could."

He continued to explain. 
He told them she poured perfume on His body, 
preparing Him for his coming death and burial... 
something only He knew would soon occur. 
He said that wherever the Gospel would be preached, 
her story would be told.. 
through all the world, through all the years to come.

(Based upon Mark 14:1-9)

She was a woman who knew Jesus, and I want to be like her. 
Her story moves me.

She understood something no one else in that room did. 
What she did was sacred, special, and precious. 
Jesus knew that. But the people in the room? They didn't "get it."
But she didn't care. As an act of worship, she anointed Jesus with something precious.

I love her faith. 
Her bravery. 
Her passion for Jesus. 
And how she didn't care what anyone said or thought. 
Just Him.

We don't know much about her. We don't know where she got that perfume, where she lived, or how she possessed the expensive oil. But we do know she possessed something valuable, costly, precious. The perfume was worth much, to her, and even to an onlooker.

I love this story, because I can relate with it. No, I don't own bottles of costly perfume, but because my life and my heart, and your life and your heart, are worth much. And we alone choose and decide how to spend our lives and where to give our hearts.

Like the woman in this story, I chose long ago to give my life, my heart, my time, my love, my worship - to Him. No matter the cost. And I want to continue to do that. 

By giving my life to Him, I'm saying "no" to all else. 
Pouring it out like a costly perfume, 
on His head, 
in worship. 
Trusting Him,
giving my all. 
Because it belongs to Him anyway. 
And because He is the love of my life.

I'm not claiming to be perfect. 

I'm not saying that i don't fall short.
I get lost.
I fail him.
Every day.

But the beauty of His grace is that he continually takes me back,
no matter my shortcomings.
No matter what I've said or done.
Hallelujah. 

Tomorrow I'm a year older.
So I choose to give Him this year,
and the rest of my years. 
The rest of this decade,
every decade after, 
every year He may give me. 

I don't wanna keep it bottled up. 
I choose to pour it out on Him. 
In reckless, passionate worship.

Like a bottle of Chanel no. 5, poured out. 
Wasted, to some it seems. 
Like this woman, 
who poured it out
despite haters, 
despite what anyone thought.
All she saw was Him.

What are you doing with your costly perfume?
Your life? 
Your heart?

My prayer as the clock strikes midnight 
and I open a new chapter of life, 
thankful for a new year, is this:

That I may, in reckless and passionate abandon, 
pour out every last drop of my costly perfume 
as worship to Him. And that someday, just maybe, 
He will say of me -

"She did all she could."

May we, through His grace, pour it all out for Him.

God, I will...

Every day I see this, and every day God renews my strength. Missing CHIC more than I ever imagined possible.

Lord Change Me... But Not Yet.

Growing up I always saw big kids as the coolest people to walk the earth. They had phones and could watch PG-13 movies and drink soda. They could go places on their own and drive and buy anything they wanted with all that magical money that just appeared in their wallets. I always said "When im a teenager I'll have the coolest car and the nicest friends and It'll all be grand." When I was younger i never saw that being a big kid had downsides too. I didn't see the responsibilities and the homework and the job that actually provided that money. I never said "When Im older I'll feel helpless!"

But here I am a big kid. With the job and the phone and the friends and the freedom. And somehow It's not as grand as I said it would be. I mean dont get me wrong, I am SO incredibly blessed and life is so beautiful. It's just... more the complications. You see, sometimes big kids have issues with their health, and sometimes big kids have way too much school, and sometimes big kids are so overwhelmed with all their over commitments that they start to suffocate in their freedom.

As a big kid my life has just been spiraling. Like a spinning, spitting tornado twisting at 280 miles a minute (yes, stereotypical Kansan making a tornado reference). It's like this constant weight on my shoulders. A constant stress and worry over getting my homework done on time, keeping good grades, getting to work, keeping up with all my friends, eating healthy, keeping my promise with every single one of my over commitments. Im just so tired of it. Even though all of my commitments are good things that im doing for good reasons, i need to step back and evaluate what's really important. Because even though im a social person, I need alone time. I need time where I can step back and talk with God and think and look at everything going on in my life. Because It's so easy for me to just get caught up and keep going  down a path that maybe I shouldn't be on in the first place. Even though I dont really have the time today, im blowing off some of my responsibilities and taking that time.

Im just sitting here contemplating my heart. Its funny how I say I want change in my heart, until it requires change in my life. I want change until I see that its's going to sting. I want to be that role model for my sisters and that honorable young woman that my parents can always be proud of, but I find that more often than not im all talk. I always have the right words and I make good decisions and im a kind person, but what it comes down to is it's not that I do those things because of Christ dying for me, it's because I've been raised with such a strong Conscience, and that gets me think about how little I do every day as a sacrifice for Christ. Every day I fall short. Every day I sin. And I acknowledge that sin in my life and I say I need to change, but saying it isn't enough. Saying that I need to change is nothing more than saying that I need that new pair of pants in that window display at the mall. The saddest part is that I probably will pursue those pants more than I will the change i need in my life. Those pretty words I spit out aren't pretty if they aren't real and true.

In Saint Augustine's book, Confessions, he prayed that the Lord would change him... but not yet!
I feel like that so accurately represents my heart. I want this change but im not willing to let the Lord change me. I ask for change in my life but not in my heart and then im confused when i have the same outcome. Like water on the sand, or grasping at the wind, I keep falling short.

I need to step back on my commitments to society, and step forward to the promise that I made to Jesus Christ when I was 8 years old. The promise to follow him and give him my very best every single day. Because as I've become this big kid, I've let my freedom get the best of me. Every time I put anything in my life above Christ, even if it was a good thing, it becomes an idol in my life. I struggle with the condition of my heart because even though Jesus showed me grace and died for me, I still continue to sin. And that's when I have to remind myself that it's grace because I dont deserve it. I continually fail God, yet he never stops giving me another chance. I want to change the world, but I've never worked to change myself, and it's about time I give the Lord complete control over my life.

Like water on the sand, or grasping at the wind, i keep on falling short. Lord please be my strength, 'cause i dont have any more. You are my strength; you and you alone keep bringing me back home.

He Always Takes Me Back

Failure.
The word that comes to mind when i think of my dedication to the Lord.
Wreck.
The word that comes to mind when i think about my life, every time i lose my dedication.
Entitled.
How the world has taught me to see myself.

Over and over and over again i fail the one who died for me.
Over and over and over again i get into these power struggles with the one who created me. 
Over and over and over again i see myself as most important and see every blessing in my life as deserved.
I hate myself for it, but somehow God loves me just the same. I really cant grasp it, because if i were him id be so sick of me... But somehow he sticks with me and gives little feeble broken me chance after chance. He gives me hope. Its crazy, having a God who always takes me back, no matter what ive done. Hallelujah, Praise him!

Death Of YOLO

Forgiveness.

Its something I've always struggled with. Not forgiving others, because I've never had a problem with that, people have actually told me that i forgive a little too easily... if that's possible, But when i talk about having trouble with forgiveness, im talking about accepting forgiveness. I guess that can be a good thing, because it makes me always strive to fix what i do wrong, and makes me strive to make good decisions and not to disappoint my family and my friends and most importantly God. But it also has another side to it.
I cannot accept that God forgives me.
I cant look at everything ive done wrong in life and see God take it from me.
I cant accept that someone so perfect would look at my sin and tell me not to worry,
and that he loves me,
and that he forgives me for my mistakes.
And so I beat up on myself. I cry because when I listen to myself, I hear: I'll never be good enough. I'll never be satisfied with myself. I'll never consider myself to be valuable to my creator. And then I realize that my thinking is completely backwards. And that in my self-loathing, I'm defiling something that God created to be pure and beautiful and holy. Not my actions, which are sinful-- that's not what I'm talking about. I'm talking about me. Because my sin HAS been washed away. I'm talking about the reality that I'm justified in the eyes of my creator. He looks at my filth and sees Jesus' blood and it's finished. I know that.

So i guess me having trouble feeling forgiven, and not accepting my fathers gift, is my pride at work, me wanting to earn my salvation. And in my prideful self relying search of salvation, im losing sight of the father, and putting myself on a pedestal, trying to make myself my savior.

Its funny. How pride and self-loathing are my two biggest problems. How i can put myself up on this pedestal one moment, trying to save myself, thinking that i can do all things on my own and i can do them better than the Lord could do them... And then continue to treat myself like garbage, somehow warping truth & thinking I need to be punished for the crappy stuff I've done-- for my continual failures and shortcomings. Thinking that I need to suffer for my wrongs, as though they require more payment... As though Jesus' death was somehow insufficient.

I cry because I can't bring myself to accept His grace. Not that I don't think it's adequate.. I know it's more than enough. The insufficiency I'm overwhelmed with is my own. I don't feel like I'm worthy of anything, let alone perfect love. I just have to remind myself... The point of grace is that I don't deserve it. Because when I'm utterly incapable on my own, that's when God get's all the credit. And my self-worth should reflect the fact that I'm a part of God's kingdom. The point of everything is for God to receive the most glory. And that isn't achieved by me punishing myself, it's achieved by complete humility, gratitude, submission and praise.

Resounding Faithfulness

Yesterday afternoon I spent some time reading through my journal and my blog from the end of last summer up until now. And it did take a solid chunk of time... But spelled out within those pages is quite the journey, let me tell you. In pouring over my struggles, triumphs, lamentations, joys and questions from the past year, I saw growth. I saw prayers answered. I saw God's faithfulness. A part of me wishes I could go through and give a follow-up post for all the things I wrote here that God responded to.
It would take me ages.
The most reoccurring question throughout the whole year was, "What is the matter with me?"
Cried out because i didn't feel valued or good enough or smart enough. But generally it was cried out in regards to me repeatedly not trusting completely in God's plan, which seems to have been, in no uncertain terms, my theme for the past year. My own naivety has been a source of almost constant amazement; I'm so small and insignificant and inadequate and unaware. Which I'm capable of spotting from three and a half miles away on my own, but when contrasted against the overwhelming majesty of God....... Yeah. I'm essentially nothing. And contrary to the general consensus of the American public, I've learned that this is, in fact, a wonderful thing.What an awesome god we serve.

How Fickle My Heart; How Faithful His

I say I know God's plan. I say I'm ready, ready for my life to begin.
When did I start thinking my life hadn't already begun?
I've been wasting away in this stagnancy, thinking that some event or another will mark the start of it all. How have I been content in that? How can I sit and wait on another person to... to what? Make me feel more complete? Make me feel valued? Secure? What evidence has anyone ever seen of the things of this earth offering true satisfaction, true comfort, true peace? It's funny, really. I get into power struggles with the one who created me--- and I consistently lose. But the more I surrender to God, the more He breaks down the things I try to find security in. And the more He takes my comfort blankets away, the more I realize that He is enough. HE'S ENOUGH. What in the world is the matter with me that I can't just abide in that?
I'm becoming increasingly aware of my own insufficiency; it's SO evident to me. I live for the moments when I realize my weakness is His strength. I just want to soak that up... I really do. I long for the ability to recklessly abandon everything. But again and again, in my idiotic unfaithfulness, I try to take control of my life. Struggles consume me and I finally give them over to God, but I still won't let Him have my future.
He's the Author of the Universe. What's wrong with me?
I found this note stuck in my bible, a prayer I wrote down last summer. It was pretty long, but this particular piece caught me:

I want so badly to know what's in store for me, but I know that if you showed me a glimpse of the future, all I would do is become impatient with your timing: and your timing is perfect. Lord, allow me to be content with waiting, with trusting and not knowing what's around the corner. Give me peace; quiet my heart.

It hasn't lost any truth.

Sufficient Is Tomorrow's Worry

Sometimes I get scared by the things that scare me.

The full potential of that sentence to convey what I'm trying to get across could very easily be lost in the illogicality of the English language.
Let's try again:
I get freaked out when I take a closer look at the types of things that worry me.
Did you get it that time?

There are silly things and there are not so silly things. For example: I worry about losing my ability to write when I get busy. With that one I'm like, "Aiiiiiight: WHY am I actually worrying about this? What's wrong with me? I feel like writing is more of a riding-a-bike thing than a using-the-quadratic-formula thing. You don't ever have to re-learn it, it just kind of sticks with you."

But then... I worry about being utterly miserable when I don't get to spend time with those I love and cherish and don't want to replace... Like Adam going off to college. And on this I muse, "There's merit here: this is scratching the surface of a potentially huge problem. I thrive on closeness. I'm passionate about my relationships. Am I setting myself up for a depressed life of pining after those I can't hug every morning?"

I freak myself out, going on these tangents that carry me off until I have sneaky tears sliding down my face, mourning the idea that my friends will forget me; that I'm not a sufficient friend, sister, daughter; that I'm incapable of helping others; that I'm too silly or too stupid or too selfish; that I'm not appropriately stewarding God's gifts; that I don't know where the heck I'm going in life and, thus, am wasting the time I've been given, floating around aimlessly without direction or purpose--

But, alas. I'm reminded that none of it is true.
And that worry is a synonym for not trusting God's plan.
And I'm beating this dead, rotting horse more than I can believe, but allow me to say it once more-- because in my insecure, doubtful state I need to be reminded so often: God does have a plan. And I am safest in His hands. He has purpose and direction for my life that is better than anything I could ever dream up. And when I'm feeling insufficient or worried or anxious and don't trust Him, He will gently guide me back into His loving arms and show me that He is all I need.

Matthew 6:
Do not lay up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy and where thieves break in and steal, but lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also... Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you. Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.'s

Let him love you as you are

A raw, genuine prayer from a prostitute who is simply herself before Jesus, swearwords and all, ministers more to the heart of the Father than all of the rote, religious lip-service coming forth from the mouth of many Christians today.
Your Dad doesn’t want you to pretend or try to be someone else when you talk to Him.
Let Him love you as you are, with all your fears, your insecurities, your worries, and personal shortcomings.
It is not your job to clean yourself up.
The Father’s desire is to lovingly remind you how clean His sacrifice has already made you and help you walk in that reality more and more every day.

Just Like That.

Let me tell you a story about this girl i know.
She had friends. Tons of them.
Everyone knew her name, they knew her interests they knew her stories,
and her jokes, and some of them even knew her secrets.
She was known for her smile.
She was a mediator, a dreamer, and known for her sweet attitude.
She was loved, but no one saw what was underneath. None of them saw that that smile was often faked, that that pain was often masked, that underneath that armor of new clothes and laughter was an insecure, jealous, needy, emotional monster.
She went through her days trying not to hurt anyone--physically or verbally--but she also went through her days carrying her heavy armor around, covering herself up from the world, trying not to reveal anything that would make her appear weak or wrong or that anyone could use against her.
That armor wore her down. Carrying twice her weight, she grew slower and weaker.
She wasnt acheiving anything anymore.
She wasnt motivated, she didnt even have a goal anymore.
She had lost all sense of direction and she didnt even have the energy to think about where she was going.
She'd rather just wander aimlessly through the woods, through the thorns, tripping over treestumps and rocks and branches, simply breaking herself down more. Wandering with lack of food and water, she quickly grew thirsty. She searched and searched for water to quench that thirst. She grew so thirsty that she would settle for anything to drink, even a dirty, mossy pond full of unclear water that would simply make her sick.

This girl? Me.

I wear this armor. All the time i wear this armor that covers up all my flaws, but the armor is getting heavier and heavier and i just cant carry it anymore.
I grew so thirsty. So thirsty for love and attention and acceptance that id settle for just about anything to quench that thirst. Now dont get me wrong, i have love and attention and acceptance. I know that and im so thankful for that. I have loving family and friends in my life and i couldnt ask for anything more from them. But this need was bigger than that. This need was crushing me from the insides out.
I felt my heart caving in and then all the rest of me crumbling to pieces.
The thirst could not be filled no matter how much love and acceptance and attention i received. That thirst might have been partially quenched for a short period of time, but it wasnt fulfillment that lasted.
Each time the search to fulfill that thirst grew stronger and bigger and little sips werent enough to quench it anymore, so i walked out deeper and deeper into the pond by day, but suprisingly enough that quenched me less and less than the simple sips. So i did what any other logical person would have done; I lied to myself. 
I told myself i was happy, that i wasnt thirsty, and figured that if i said it long enough i just might start to believe it, But that didnt work either.
I started going deeper; but that didnt work either, that just broke me more inside. I lied to myself and i lied to everyone who loved me.
Anyways, that thirst came back again, so i plunged into that pond, head first, armor and all, But this time something different happened; I started to sink.
This time i couldnt hold myself up. I couldnt hold myself above water.
That armor pulled me down and pulled me under, I gasped for air. I couldnt keep my breath.
As i was about to give up i opened my eyes and saw a hand reaching for mine.
I grasped on and now theres no way i could ever let go.
He saved me.
Jesus saved me.

Im still unsure, on occasion i still fake smiles, i still mask pain.. thats just who i am. I dont trust myself, but i almost feel thats more of a blessing, because if i did i wouldnt ever rely on God, would i? I have enough of a problem with that as it is.

I was drowning in my own lies.
Drowning in my own insecurites.
Drowning in my own pain and fears.

Until one day when i finally acknowledged him reaching out his hand for me. I just decided that day that i didnt want to live that way anymore, and so i changed... Just like that.

Jesus saved me.

Awe is why i grab the pen and beauty is why i scratch it down and all his lighting glory is why i muzzle the voices that say i cant or shouldnt or mustnt because he is my blaze and he is my burn and i cannot be muzzled because what can keep me from telling once the eyes have seen?

Life Sneaks Up.

I remember when I was a youngin'.

I thought high school kids were SO cool.

They were so... adulty.

Independent. Confident. Awesome.

It was like, "Mannnn, I can't wait until I'm that old!"

Welp...

Here I am.

And some days I have to remind myself that I am, in fact, this old.

It's those days — the days when real life sneaks up, whops me on the back of the head and proceeds to run away, giggling — that I ask,

"EY! When did YOU get here?!"

Ridiculous, really — I've spent so much time in the last few years sitting around, praying and asking God for things. Telling Him I'm ready for this and that; ready to be used by Him and ready for real life to begin. As though I knew better than He what I was and was not ready for; as though 'real life' was something I hadn't yet entered.....

He waited patiently for the day that I finally realized I wasn't in control; the day when I willingly handed over the reins to the One who actually knows what the destination is. It was on this day that I realized that I was far better off trusting in the Author of the universe with my story than trying to feebly construct something of beauty on my own— and oh, what a day it was.

(a Tuesday, I think...)

Up next was the period in my life where I asked God what the plan was. I had acknowledged my lack-of-control-ness; I was now ready for whatever He had in store. The mildly satirical summation of my mindset was as follows:

"Hey, God. I have no control over anything; You've completely got it covered. You're awesome and powerful and loving and in control and all that stuff. Mmm."

*thoughtful pause*

"So. Since I fully trust you now and everything— where exactly are we going?"

I've grown to love it.

I've also grown from it; I've seen my stumbling faithlessness and realized it takes more than that to truly hand my life over to my Creator.

And some days I feel peace about leaving my life in God's hands. Some days I worry about the future and where I'm headed. Some days I feel ready to take on the world and I wish He'd hurry up and let me in on the agenda. Some days I feel entirely inadequate for the tasks at hand.

Each and every day I feel blessed to have my life in His hands.

My God is a god who guides.

My God is a god who is in control.

My God is a god who has a perfect plan.

My God is a god who gives me everything I need.

My God is a god who knows the right timing for everything.

My God is a god who loves me despite my constant second-guessing.

My God is a god who is way more patient with me than I would be with myself.

...Thank God.

Happiness.

Having a savior.
Finding your musical soulmate.
Dancing in the rain.
Unexpected texts.
Finding something you thought youd lost.
New friends.
Feeling pretty.
Winning an argument.
Getting letters in the mail.
Noticing something you never had.
New clothes.
4 Dollar Juicy couture necklaces.
Singing.
My family.
Food.
Project Restoration.
Knowing that everything will be okay.

Just Stop And Think

"But God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through."
-Francis Chan, Crazy Love: Overwhelmed by a Relentless God

Sting

"I want to keep walking away from the person I was a moment ago, because a mind was made for figure things out, not to read the same page recurrently." -Donald Miller


Correction, growth, refinement. I have this inherent, burning desire to see myself progress. There's a lengthy list of flaws that need to be pruned. I'm prideful. Unkind. Lazy, irresponsible, rude, and above all, selfish. Perhaps you haven't noticed... Perhaps I hide it all quite skillfully. I certainly hope not; I want to be open and vulnerable about my failures, because it's what makes me human, and it's what makes the cross so sweet. As a Christ-follower I can step out of the shadows and reveal my faults; that's when they're washed away. When I'm weak, then I am strong. It's hard, though. I mean, who really wants to shout their flaws from the rooftops? It doesn't sound too terribly appetizing... That gets me thinking, though--- if at any point I'm not willing to openly confess that my heart is rotting in sin from the inside out--- Do I really want to be transformed? When I'm transparent about my sin, it brings glory to God through what Christ is doing in my life. Isn't my silence really just me denying, holding onto that which I don't want to admit or give up? I occasionally have to reassess, then, if that's truly what I'm looking for. I can honestly say that I want change, but I think sometimes I'd prefer if that change wasn't internal. Sanctification is hard: it stings. It's not what we want by nature. It's going against the grain; it's dragging yourself upstream--- against the current--- toward something that, you have to remind yourself repeatedly, is actually better for you. I catch myself desiring change in my life (instead of in my heart) simply because I'm not content with my current circumstances. But I'm not content with the circumstances God has placed me in because of a deeper issue. This world is tainted by sin and will never satisfy any of us-- so where should I be finding my contentment, really?


God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in Him.

20/20

I'm struggling. 
I'm struggling with the state of the world around me.
But more importantly, I'm struggling with the state of my own undeserving heart.


The more I know of God, the more obvious my own inadequacy becomes.
Which makes sense, right? 
You think your socks are clean until you buy a new pair.
They're a pure, dazzling, flawless white. And your old socks, though freshly washed, don't seem so perfect anymore. And they won't-- not ever again. Because you thought you knew what "white" meant before that trip to Target; you really did. But now you know you were wrong. 
You think you see the world as it is until you get glasses for the first time.
And suddenly you realize those green blobs you've been staring at are leaves. And you can see eyelashes, and fine print, and the grain of your hardwood floors in a bright new crispness that you never knew existed. And can you ever go back to life without glasses? Impossible-- because now YOU SEE HOW BLIND YOU WERE. 


And ain't that the truth?


The more glimpses we catch of the absolute love, power and holiness of our Creator...
The more apparent our own crappiness becomes.
And the more we comprehend our depravity... 
The more we clearly see our desperate need to cling to the cross.


Which is why it's hard for me to see people who say they love God reacting differently to His majesty. And I've thought over this and wrestled with risking sounding prideful, but here it is:
If you really know Jesus, and you really see what He went through, and you really comprehend that He did it BECAUSE of you --willingly-- for your sake and the sake of humanity.... How can you see yourself as more righteous than others who don't know what you know?
THEY HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE
THAT THE GUILTLESS SON OF GOD WAS CRUCIFIED FOR THEIR FOLLIES.
you do.
If you are what you say you are, then you've tasted the reality of Christ's unbelievable grace in your life. And that shouldn't make us feel superior to other people---
it should make us fall down on our faces and mourn.
Like, wail in agony over the fact that,
WE ARE THE THORNS IN HIS CROWN
WE ARE THE BEADS OF SWEAT ON HIS BROW
WE ARE THE NAILS IN HIS WRISTS
and He loves us anyway.


Which is the most amazing fact ever. But that shouldn't make you feel like you've received forgiveness because you're somehow better than others. We should feel overwhelmingly loved, yes-- but also overwhelmingly humbled that He chose to save us. US! In the rotten, sinful, unworthy state we were in. You know what else is cool? You have a brand new pair of glasses with which to inspect your old, nasty, stained socks; as we understand more of God, it isn't our pride that should increase...
it's our humility.


"That's why we love Jesus so much more than religion.
Religion is only for the good people, that's what they think.
Those who are religious and think they're good, they're the worst of all.
Jesus is for everyone else; the sinners, the broken, the rebels,
the hard-hearted, stiff-necked nobodies from nowhere;
the illiterate, the poor, the outcasts,
the marginalized, weak failures....
If we deserved His gift, it wouldn't be grace.
You know that Jesus wants to be with you,
not because you are amazing, but because He is?
He is the God of grace."

Religion Versus Jesus

There's a problem if people only know youre a Christian by your facebook....

The church is a hospital for the broken. 

It's In his Hands

Im done. No more worrying about drama, about school and about people. I'm giving everything to you God. Everything i want, everything i need, everything i was, am, and will be, is in your hands. Make me what you will Lord, cause I'm done trying to do it on my own.