It seemed like a major setback.
 
My roommates and I had been living in a nice house with a backyard and a two-car garage. It was the biggest (and most expensive) house I had ever lived in. However, our lease was ending and with major life transitions on the horizon, my roommates and I decided it was probably time to move on from our extravagant abode. So, after much purging of all my possessions, I stuffed what I had left into my Mitsubishi and drove across town. I ended up moving back into the exact room I lived in when I first moved to Napa eight years ago.
 
While I was truly grateful for a place to live, I must admit that it just seemed like a step backwards in my life. Ever been there? When God brings you back to the same place that you started even though you feel like you should be long past that stage of life?
 
As I stood in that old familiar room with boxes stacked all around, I began to feel like my life was suddenly very small. So, I decided to go out for some fresh air. Just a few hundred yards away from the front door is a small park with a playground and half-mile loop that I had walked many times eight years prior.
 
My first time around the loop brought thoughts like: Why am I back here? Did I do something wrong? Have I failed?  While my feet followed the circle a second time, disappointment set in as a I began to think about the previous season and all my unmet expectations. I wanted to be farther along in my life and career. I wanted more meaningful relationships. On the third loop, I began to invite God into the conversation and express my grief to Him. He was a kind listener.
 
The fourth and fifth time around the track brought some much needed reflection as I began to think about where I was eight years ago emotionally, relationally, spiritually, and even physically. By the sixth loop, something remarkable happened, I felt how much I had grown from eight years ago. I remembered all that God had delivered me from, the relationships He had blessed me with, the financial miracles He orchestrated, and all the ways I had advanced in both career and calling.
 
On my seventh circle, I said to the Lord: “I remember how hard it was for me to walk just one of those loops eight years ago. It’s only my first time out this time around and I’ve been walking for miles.” And that’s when the Lord whispered, “Jen, your greatest gain then is your starting point now”.
 
Eight years ago, I had to work for months to get the grit and the stamina to walk the literal physical path I had just walked. This time around I hit it first try and with no struggle. This new beginning wasn’t where I wanted to be, but I was moving with strength and with ease. The version of myself eight years ago would have been shocked! When I feel disappointed about my pace or my progress in life, I remember that I have already come so far in my life – only by God’s grace and His power.
 
When we are discouraged, we certainly need to acknowledge how we feel. But we also need to remember where we have been and how far we have come
 
“Your greatest gain then is your starting point now.”
 
This phrase reminds me that we aren’t on the journey of perfectionism but progress. And perfectionism is the enemy of progress. Even though I felt so far behind in life, I had made so much progress and I needed to go to an old familiar place to feel that.
 
It’s not about the pace. It’s about making meaningful progress. It’s not about perfection. It’s about enjoying the process. So, today I’m choosing to focus on my progress and enjoy this process as best as I can.
 
How about you?

​After a few traumatic days and several vigorous years of ministry, the disciples found themselves gathered together “with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders” in John chapter twenty verse nineteen. This is the exact moment when Jesus made his grand appearance to them in his resurrected state. I can’t begin to conceive all that the disciples must have felt taking in their first glimpse of Jesus alive and well. Shock? Relief? Confusion? Well, the scripture makes one of the emotions very clear as it says in verse twenty that “the disciples were overjoyed when they saw the Lord.” Of course, joy! After undergoing such emotional turmoil at the brutal loss of their Rabbi, Jesus was a sight for sore eyes and sore hearts.
 
John chapter twenty also intentionally points us to the fact that not all the disciples were there for this Christ sighting.
 
“24 Now Thomas (also known as Didymus), one of the Twelve, was not with the disciples when Jesus came. 25 So the other disciples told him, “We have seen the Lord!” But he said to them, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my finger where the nails were, and put my hand into his side, I will not believe.” John 20:24-25
 
Imagine being the only disciple who didn’t get to see Jesus.
 
What a splinter to the soul that must have been for Thomas. The moment of joy that the rest of the disciples experienced together has bitterly passed for him. He was left out.
 
My Sunday school days taught me to know Thomas as “doubting Thomas”. As a child, I often saw him as a sort of villain in this story. However, when I really reflect on what it would have been like for Thomas to be absent for the miraculous appearance of his Rabbi who was murdered just days before, I think the title “doubting Thomas” massively lacks empathy and understanding for the situation. Thomas was grieving. The other disciples had relief that their nightmare was over because they had seen with their own eyes that Jesus was alive! While they may have still had lingering questions, they no longer had reason to grieve at great depths. But Thomas is still deeply wounded at the loss of his Rabbi, and now a second wound is inflicted as he is the only one of his comrades to miss out on the joy of seeing the Risen Savior.
 
His words in verse twenty-five are not only a harsh resolve of a now conditional faith in his “I will not believe unless” statement, but they are dripping with woundedness and grief. His doubt is steeped in sorrow and rooted in the feeling of rejection. This doubt, that now colors our view of Thomas, is simply his measure of self-defense used to coat his very hurt heart. Sounds like an average human response to pain, doesn’t it?
 
I, like Thomas, have doubted God because I felt “left out”. I have denied His goodness and put conditions on my faith because of what He has done for others but not for me. Somehow their joy with Jesus translated to my hurt and loss. Like being pricked by a thorn on a rose in full bloom, there is something beautiful about their joy but also so hurtful about my lack. I wish it weren’t this way. Perhaps, it has been this way for you too.
 
So, what do we do in these moments of blistering bewilderment and human heartache? Let’s return to the story.
​
"26 A week later his disciples were in the house again, and Thomas was with them. Though the doors were locked, Jesus came and stood among them and said, “Peace be with you!” 27 Then he said to Thomas, “Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side. Stop doubting and believe.” 28 Thomas said to him, “My Lord and my God!” 29 Then Jesus told him, “Because you have seen me, you have believed; blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” - John 20:26-29
 
A whole seven days later, Jesus appears to the disciples in much the same way as he had previously. The doors were locked, the disciples were together, and Jesus uses the same “Peace be with you” greeting. However, the notable difference is that Thomas was there for this Christ sighting and the interaction seems tailored for Thomas himself. Jesus, wasting no time, turns towards Thomas and addresses the doubt head on, but not before his greeting of “Peace be with you”. Could it be that Thomas needed to hear the word “peace” in his anguished soul just as much as the disciples did a week prior?
 
Start with peace.
 
When we lock the doors of our hearts just as the disciples locked the doors of that room, Jesus still shows up for us and speaks peace to our weary souls.
 
Peace be with you in your rejection.
Peace be with you in your loss.
Peace be with you when you’re overlooked.
Peace be with you when you’re withholding.
 
This receiving of peace is difficult in the midst of pain, but it is such a deep need in the human heart. We must receive His relief. We must choose His peace over our own armor.
 
“Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.” – John 14:27
 
“The Lord is Near! Do not be anxious about anything. Instead, in every situation with prayer and petition with thanksgiving, tell your requests to God. And the peace that surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus.” – Philippians 4:6
 
Now with the anchor of peace extended, Jesus offers Thomas to examine the very “unless I see” contingencies spelled out the week prior. However, Jesus leaves Thomas with a contingency of His own: “stop doubting and believe”.
 
Stop doubting.
 
It’s important that we recognize how we respond when we are hurt. We are all prone to doubt as our standard defense mechanism. Once we have been pained, doubt is an instinctive response to house our hearts from hurt. The problem is that doubt shields us from the wrong thing. It shields us from the blessing of the Lord but opens us to bitterness, resentment, and hardness of heart. We must find a better way.

​We must stop doubting and BELIEVE. However, the only way to get to the belief is not to deny the pain, but to be honest about it. “Stop doubting” doesn’t mean that we simply set it aside and pretend it’s not there. Rather, we must move toward Jesus through the doubt. There is no need to try to sugar coat the distress and disappointments felt. Instead, we move courageously through our doubt and pain and bring every bit of resistance to Jesus with honesty and with vulnerability.
 
Believe.
 
Being honest about the state of heart gives us the launching pad for faith even in the unseen. It opens us to remember who it is before us. Thomas needed to take off the grief goggles and remember who the Lord and God he had followed for year. In fact, his response to Jesus is layered with belief, “my Lord and my God!” A week of doubt couldn’t drown out the years of devotion once he looked in his Master’s eyes again.  We must remember who it is that is before us. We have looked at our pain, now we must look again at Jesus himself and remember that He is our Lord and our God. Once you have been honest about the state of your heart, get the pain out of view for a moment. Look at Jesus.
 
When we look at Jesus, we also shouldn’t be surprised if He invites us to look not at what is seen but what is unseen. Jesus said to Thomas in verse twenty-nine, “blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” Faith in the midst of the unseen is the hallmark of every spiritual hero in Scripture. Just read the eleventh chapter of Hebrews to stir the hunger for an increase of faith in your life. There is blessing in our belief. And the blessing goes two ways. There is blessing for us most certainly, but it also blesses our Lord and God’s heart when we put our trust and hope in Him.
 
”And without faith it is impossible to please God, because anyone who comes to Him must believe that He exists and that He rewards those who earnestly seek Him.” – Hebrews 11:6
 
Faith when it doesn’t make sense, but peace will be with you. Believe before you see, but you’ll be built up in the process. This is not an easy prescription for a hurt spirit, but it’s the challenge Jesus put before Thomas and all believers.

Start with peace.
Stop doubting.
​Believe.

In my elementary days, I remember using and hearing the phrase “first try” quite often. Every kid on the playground found something so impressive about succeeding from the onset. “He hit a home-run first try!” And “She landed that trick first try!” We were all chasing our next “first try” high as mysterious and elusive as that kind of accomplishment could be. 

Well, I don’t know about you, but I don’t know of any real successes in my life that came on the “first try”. I spent four years (and far too much money) on a college degree to become a pastor and a social worker.  I spent six years in softball leagues full of weekly practices, tournaments, and endless laps around the bases before I made the Varsity softball team. I practiced countless hours until my fingers went numb to learn to play the guitar. I preached dozens and dozens of sermons before I ever gave a decent teaching from Scripture to my congregation.
 
Now that I think about it, I don’t think I got anything on the “first try”.
 
The same is true in my spiritual journey. I didn’t get the disciplines of prayer, forgiveness, fasting, obedience, faith, patience, joy, sabbath, and every other aspect of discipleship to Jesus on the “first try”. It’s taken practice and perseverance. It’s required continued refinement and daily mercies. It reminds me of the process Scripture talks about of going from “glory to glory”.
 
“But we all, with open face beholding as in a glass the glory of the Lord, are changed into the same image from glory to glory, even as by the Spirit of the Lord.”
-2 Corinthians 3:18 (KJV)
 
I must admit, going from “glory to glory” is messier than I could have ever imagined. Going from “glory to glory” means a lot of trial and error. It means I have to drop the perfectionist mentality in the crafting of my life. But it also means that my life is “gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful” as Eugene Peterson writes in his translation of 2 Corinthians 3:18.  
 
“And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him.”
 – 2 Corinthians 3:18 (The Message)
 
If my life is “gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful”, I need a gentler phrase to hold onto for my adult life than “first try”. And I think I’ve found one. It comes from the NEEDTOBREATHE song entitled “What I’m Here For” and invites my life into the soul-breathing space it’s been craving.
 
“I just need room to be wrong sometimes.”
 
Growing up, I didn’t feel the permission to fail or make mistakes. Perhaps this is because I grew up in a church culture that was far too quick in rushing people to the answers.  I felt the pressure to get every bit of discipleship to Jesus right on the “first try”. It was suffocating; it was lonely; and it was a lie. It often kept me from trying in the first place. And that kind of environment scraped away my humanity and drained any real need for the divine in my life. We can only really know Jesus when we are who we really are. And who we are is gloriously and imperfectly human.  
 
“I just need room to be wrong sometimes.”
 
This particular season that I find myself in is wild beyond words. I’m not sure how to explain it to the onlooker in a way that will satiate the need for a neat and tidy summation.  But I can tell you one thing: I crave SPACE. The space to be human. The space to feel my disappointments and still offer faith in the midst of them. The space to offend religious people and repent for my own religiosity. The space to be offended and forgive my offenders. The space to wrestle with my disillusionment for how God gives and takes away. The space to worship Him in times of plenty and when I’m running on empty. The space to break out of living merely a dutiful existence and into a life led by holy desire.
 
I crave the space to fully be on journey with Jesus through every external twist and turn that comes my way and with every internal waywardness that needs uprooting. So, I am giving myself the space to do that. While this season is seemingly not productive or impressive, it is honest, restful, stretching and soul healing.
 
I’m also finding that as I give myself space, I give more space for Jesus to come and be with me. And you know what I’m finding? He fills every gap my imperfection makes. He is patient and kind even in my combativeness. He is a friend who sticks closer to a brother. And the secret hours with Him are sweeter than any moment I have ever spent on public stages.
 
“I just need room to be wrong sometimes.”
 
When I allow myself to have this kind of soul-breathing room, I also end up giving more space for others to be their whole human selves. My opinions decrease. My rushed answers to other people’s strife go silent. And I have left space for Jesus to step into the conversations and into their process. I don’t need to fill their gaps. He’s got that covered too. 
 
So, what about you?

Perhaps you, like me, need a little space today to not be perfect or hit every marker of spiritual success on the first try. Even when others don’t give you that space, let this sink into your soul: you have the room to be wrong sometimes.

You don’t have to be perfect. The pressure is off because Jesus has given you the room to be right where you are. You can trust His character and His kindness. You can trust that He is a Good Shepherd who will lead you into a spacious place of “gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful” in Him.
 
Lastly, you don’t have to run or hide when you’re imperfect. Keep showing up to Jesus even when the bitterness flares up, the prejudice kicks in, the anxieties rise, the impure thoughts disrupt, and you failed again.  Jesus doesn’t give up on you when you aren’t perfect. He sticks with you and gets you where you need to go.

​But also keep showing up to the bride and body of Christ even when they don’t understand, when they offend, when they doubt you, when they rush your discipleship, when they miss you entirely. Jesus doesn’t give up on her either when she isn’t perfect.
 
I’ll leave you with my favorite passage from these last few months and invite you to take a deep breath as you allow these words to create some breathing room in your own soul.

​I first stumbled onto this verse three years ago during a three-day prayer and fasting time with my church.
 
It had been a tumultuous season for me prior to this fast as my life was moving at lightening speed on the road to nowhere. While a lot of exciting and wonderful things were happening for those around me, my circumstances seemed to only be getting bleaker and more challenging. I was disillusioned. I felt lonely, empty and plagued by my own internal assessment of my life's landing place. Did I do something wrong?  Why has God passed me by after years of hidden faithfulness? Why has He left me in the wasteland of my broken dreams and unmet desires? 

As I walked into the 6:30am prayer session on the first day, I could feel a storm brewing just beneath the surface of my glazed eyes and half smile. Bitterness, desperation, resistance, and sorrow were all lying in wait.  What a sensitive mixture for so early in the morning!
 
With my head sunk low and Bible in hand, I figured Psalms would be the best place for my despondent state. So, I began to skim through various chapters until my eyes fell on this passage:

​“They spoke against God; they said, 'Can God really spread a table in the wilderness?'" 
​- Psalms 78:19

Another version says the disciples and the crowds found themselves in a “desolate place”, and another translation refers to it as “a wilderness”. Wow! Could this be a coincidence? The same disbelief raging in my heart was being mirrored in Scripture yet again. And this time the frustration and apprehension was erupting from none other than Christ’s most faithful disciples.
 
The question from the previous day still lingered in the air: “Can God spread a table in the wilderness?” The disciples clearly didn’t think so either.  However, the story in Matthew chapter fourteen unfolds into one of Jesus’ most famous miracles. The disciple’s skepticism only thickens the plot. It sets the scene and heightens the dramatic reveal to what can only be described as remarkable.
 
"Jesus replied, 'They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.' 
'We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,' they answered. 'Bring them here to me,' he said. And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people.  They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over." - Matthew 14:16-20
 
God was leaving absolutely no room for ambiguity in the answer to my soul's deepest question: “Can God spread a table in the wilderness?” 

​Yes! Five thousand times over, yes!
 
Not only is God able to satisfy me, He is able to satisfy the multitudes and send me home with a basket of leftovers. Incredible! You can rest assured that repentance was my swift response to my encounter with Spirit and Truth that day. I didn’t need the deliverance from the wilderness or an easier path to traverse. I needed faith. I needed humility. And I needed to call on the God of “more than enough” to meet me in the barren and broken places of my heart.
 
REFLECTION:
Just like the disciples were upfront and aware of their mathematically improbably situation, we need to be honest and aware of what is really going on beneath the surface of our lives. 
 
So, what’s in your heart today? Complaint? Disappointment? Trust? Hesitation? Fear? Take a moment to pause and invite the Holy Spirit to reveal your heart. Be radically honest even if it's uncomfortable and even if your heart reveals an unpolished posture toward the Almighty. 

"Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." - Psalms 139:23-24

List it all out and then let Jesus’ instruction to the disciples in verse eighteen be your invitation today: “Bring them here to Me." His invitation is to come close, bring what you have, and let Him do something remarkable with the frailties and deficiencies being offered from your life. He can work with whatever you give Him. 
 
"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me." - 2 Corinthians 12:9

What the disciples found in the wilderness wasn’t enough to satisfy the crowds; but Jesus was. What you find in your own heart and in your circumstances won’t be enough to satisfy yourself; but Jesus is and will be.
 
As you enter into messy surrender in the desolate places of your life, remember Matthew chapter fourteen. He works miracles out of the mess; He works wonders in the wilderness; and He is enough to satisfy wherever you are today.

I have (attempted to) surf exactly three times in my life. The first time I went surfing, I was fifteen and “along for the ride” with my friends. I was moderately successful. The second was a short lived defeat. I was too anxious to stand in the crashing waves much less actually surf them. The third attempt was my most profound experience yet. It was a sort of "successful failure".
 
Let me explain:
 
Just a few months ago, my friend and I traveled down to Santa Cruz, California for a three-day getaway from our very stressful, very lonely, and very compressed lives. It was a much needed few days of rest and adventure, and I only know of one place that can accommodate rest and adventure: the beach.
 
We busted out her surf boards, bought ourselves some wet suits and headed down to the coast. We landed on a very low-traffic beach in Santa Cruz county, next to our AirBnB and I found it to be the perfect place to give surfing another go.
 
My friend, who is far more experienced than I at surfing, gave me a quick overview of the basics and set out for the first obstacle, paddling out past the breakers. Because the last time I went surfing I experienced a mild anxiety attack in the water, I decided to warm up my confidence by boogie boarding first. Within minutes, my friend was up on her board and about a half mile down the way from me. She was determined and she moved quick. I was inspired by her grit and instantly bored with boogie boarding. So, I swapped boards and headed out for the breakers. However, as the water got deeper, my confidence started to shake (I’m not the best swimmer). Balancing on the 7 foot surfboard was a lot trickier than the boogie board, and I didn’t understand how to time the waves at all.
 
I kept trying to paddle past the breakers and even surf a few of the big waves, but it was confidence that was causing me to stumble more than my skill. “What am I doing? I don’t even know where to start. People have only told me what to do once I caught the wave. They never told me how to get out there.” And finally, it dawned on me: “This water is too deep for me to learn. I need to fail in the shallow water.”

With those thoughts, a profound sense of clarity erupted: I needed to fail in the shallow water if I ever wanted to succeed in the deep. My friend made her way over to me and told me how difficult it was for her to paddle past the breakers, but she encouraged me to try to paddle to the deep with her. I very quickly explained that I needed some time to pick up the basics in the shallow end. She was very understanding and admitted she wished she would have learned that way.  So, she joined me.
 
Every time I had tried surfing, people were not giving me room to fail. With their good intentions, they taught with precision each and every skill necessary for surfing. However, they forgot about the actual experience.. All of their explanation was circled around deep end perfection. They neglected the lessons from the shallow waters. They taught with such ferocious passion and an overwhelming desire for my immediate success that they didn’t leave any margin for error.
 
In their song What I'm Here For, I think NeedtoBreathe sums up my soul’s learning style well: "I just need room to be wrong sometimes.”
 
I need the shallow water.
 
In the shallow water, I learned how to balance on the board while paddling out to the wave. (Something every surf teacher in my life has neglected to explain).
 
In the shallow water, I learned how to find the right wave to surf. (You can expend a lot of energy going for the wrong waves that don’t have enough momentum).
 
In the shallow water, I learned how to time paddling to catch the wave, get up on my knees while riding the wave, and even begin to stand. (I felt a lot freer to try in the shallow because I knew that if I did fall, I could quickly get my footing on the sand.)
 
In the shallow water, I got tossed by waves and thrown under only to get right back up again. (I was able to feel that I was okay after going under thus silencing my fears about potentially drowning.)
 
I needed the shallow water. Someday, I will get to the deep but only because of the lessons that the shallow end taught me and the confidence it built.
 
Sometimes choosing less will actually sustain more in the long run, and perhaps, make it more enjoyable. I will someday be able to approach the deep end with more confidence and less anxiety because of the lessons I have learned in the shallow end.
 
And you know what…
 
I  actually felt proud of myself that day. Proud for trying again. Proud for now knowing myself enough to know MY PACE. And proud for choosing the shallow waters instead of racing to the deep too quickly.
 
Do some inventory: Is there anywhere in your life where you have jumped into the deep end before learning in the shallow end?  Failure is often the best teacher. But when the stakes are high, we may not feel free to fail. My encouragement to you is to venture into your own successful failures.
 
Look for ways to embrace the shallow end, and at the right time, paddle out for the deep. You’ll have what it takes.

​So, surf's up!

 One of the most memorable life experiences came to me, not surprisingly, in college. I attended a small Christian university in Southern California where I studied psychology and also served in student leadership as a Student Campus Chaplain. The role of Student Campus Chaplain primarily involved running weekly chapels and Bible studies. But it also meant some great experiences with the other students in the department. My favorite experiences? The summer and winter retreats.
 
About a month before classes began, all of the student leadership at the school were invited for a weeklong retreat up in the mountains for a time of connection and vision. We spent time worshiping together, praying together, and even sharing our life’s story in a small circle of other students. It was terrifying and holy. I wouldn’t trade those days for anything.
 
(In fact, I wish I could go back and soak up all of the richness of relationship and time together. I wish I could go back and be more present. But I am grateful that I showed up. That was incredibly hard for me at the time.)
 
During the last few hours of my first retreat, one of the faculty members invited the dozen of us in my department to “wander out into the woods and allow the Lord to show (us) a souvenir to bring back with (us) that represents what (we) received from the week”.
 
Wander in the woods in the hottest part of summer just to find something I could probably pick up in my own backyard…why? In all honesty, I thought that this was perhaps the most ridiculous exercise of all time. But, I ventured out into the woods nonetheless to find my souvenir. Doing my best to take it seriously, I looked at rocks, twigs, leaves, tree bark, all to no avail. Nothing seemed special enough for the taking.
 
I starred at the ground in front of me with such intent with every step I took until I large rock emerged in my view. I felt the Lord gently whisper, “Pick it up”. So I picked it up. Then I felt Him whisper, “Let it go”. So, I let it go.
 
Three times this occurred.

“Pick it up.” “Let it go.” 
“Pick it up.” “Let it go.”
“Pick it up.” “Let it go.”
 
Though this seemed a rather odd command for the Lord to give without any explanation, I knew something sacred was happening.
 
After the third release of the rock, I felt the Lord whisper, “Jen, you don’t know how heavy something is until you let it go.”
 
With such a profound statement resounding in my heart, I knew that in the Lord’s kindness He was preparing me. Though I couldn’t quite understand the full application of the statement, deep down I knew that this lesson needed to be branded on my soul. In this sacred moment, I sensed that there would be things in my life throughout the next few years that Jesus would inevitably ask me to let go. And, it was completely true. A decade long of "letting go" and the list just keeps getting longer. 
 
    -Childhood wounds
    -Failures
    -Ego
    -Body shame
    -Hurry
    -Rejection
    -Social Anxiety
    -Depression
    -Out of balance relationships
    -Anger
    -Definitions of success
    -Fears
    -Comparison
 
Frequently and continually, I have to lay these things down. I have to unburden from the things weighing down my mind, my soul, and even my body.
 
My natural inclination, like most people, is to keep a white knuckled grip onto anything I am asked to release even if I know it is hurting me.
 
Why do we do that? Perhaps because we all know that change is so terribly hard. The fear of change and the labor it requires of us causes us to hunker down in our routine way of life even if it causes deep distress in our soul.
 
But this moment with the Lord changed me. It didn’t change my life circumstances, but it changed the way I would approach them.
 
Through brutal trust and the painful practice of following His word to “let go”, I have learned that if the Lord is asking me to let it go, it’s for my benefit.
 
Perhaps this is your gentle invitation to let it go.
Whatever it may be.
 
It may be good.  
But it may not be good for you.

It may be normal.
But it may be keeping you from better.

It may be what your world is asking you to keep holding.
But it might be holding you back.  

"Let it go."

Maybe you need to mourn and release the grief that a difficult season has deposited in your life. Loss is such a heavy thing to carry.
 
"Let it go."
 
Your time of unburdening may not be a release of outward responsibility, but rather an internal and unseen work. It may be deeper than you want to go in your own soul. It may be risky. It may take more time than you want it to. But it will be worth it and it will change you.

 "Let it go."

There is a chance that you, like me, may not even realize that you need the lightening of your load. Perhaps Jesus is inviting you into a season of discovery, a season of healing, and season of glorious unburdening.
 
Jesus says in the gospel of Matthew, “Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.”  Matthew 11:28-30 (The Message)
 
Might I encourage you to be bold enough to approach Jesus and ask Him to show you the way to live free and light. Ask Him to help you unburden and recover your life. And then pick up His rest and His way. Pick up His new “normal” for you.
 
Might I encourage you to trust Him as He leads. I believe that no one understood the human condition better than Jesus. He came to show us a better way to live. He is trustworthy. Though He was dangerous to the religious leaders of the New Testament, He was safe for the sinner. And I have found Him to be so incredibly trustworthy and safe in my journey. No one has known me or loved me better.
 
I think it’s worth the risk to “come” to Jesus and let it go. Because you never know how heavy something is until you let it go.
 
May your season of glorious unburdening begin. 

​It’s wildly true. The creativity in me has just about died. You might have figured that out as my posts have dwindled.

But it is also wildly true that I am craving it once again.
Oh to dance with the creativity in me, unhindered and free.
 
It’s been a while since I have attempted to write. So much is on my mind, yet my mind runs blank. How is that possible? Perhaps I am just so out of practice that I have become unable to dig up the innovative thoughts now buried somewhere inside of me. I am desperately hoping the dreams were not just a mist that disappeared due to inaction.
 
I felt trapped in a life that I did not design but willingly sustained and maintained. I settled for a life of rigidity and mind numbing work. All to please? To survive? To appear successful? To try to help others but sacrifice myself over and over? I’m honestly not sure of the “why”. All I do know is that I am here now in this moment, sitting in an abandoned video studio turned storage room trying to muster up any creativity that I have left. Trying to find my voice. Trying to find meaning and joy in the work.  All I can do is try again. 
 
And here, in the imperfection and messiness of trying again...

I am alive again.

Day by day, line by line
My soul spills onto this lonely, empty page
Filling every space with the questions I embrace
My emotions like the ocean all consuming
My thoughts keep me locked yet undo me
The literature of my life being formed by heart and mind
I wonder what sort of story they’re creating...

Does my heart have enough spark to keep going without knowing
How the ending will turn out?
Because my mind is running circles with it’s doubts. 
I confess that “happily ever after” doesn’t match the disaster
Or disappointment drenched chapter
That is the here and now.
​
Can I escape the here and now?
Is there enough grace in the here and now?
Do I have enough faith for the here and now?

I confess that this page being written is not one I want to sit in.
But I am willing to patiently learn the lesson
That the mess of today is not my life’s thesis
It’s just a sentence.
 
Day by day, line by line
There is a greater story being written deep inside of me
Day by day, line by line
It will surface and be repurposed for a greater glory
 
Winds of change, blow over this page
Come and rage upon me and my conflicted identity
Unearthing the parts of me that I’ve yet to see
The dormant dreams and the greater themes that stir so violently
 
So here and now
I call to my tired and unseen soul
Let your messy story unfold.
Beautifully unfinished. ​Perfectly in process.
Let your messy story unfold.​ 
Day by day, line by line
​Let your messy story unfold.

This is such a hopeful passage of Scripture planted in between chapters upon chapters of dread, disobedience, and destruction.  If you have read the book of Jeremiah, then you know that Jeremiah spends a good portion of his book warning the Israelites of the upcoming rebuke of the Lord brought on by their consistent rebellion. Inevitably, the correction comes for the Israelites and it comes at great costs as they become captives to the powerful Babylonian Empire.
 
However, tucked in the middle of all the prophecies of chaos and captivity, Jeremiah also speaks of the promises of the Lord towards the future generations that He will:
1.      Gather His people from where they’ve been banished
2.      Give them safety
3.      Restore covenant
4.      Give them singleness of heart to serve the Lord
5.      Be good to His people and rejoice over this goodness
6.      Plant them in the land once lost
7.      Inspire obedience and faithfulness
 
What a promise! After reading chapters and chapters of what seemed like hopelessness, these Scriptures read like a breath of fresh air. Not to mention that the consistent theme of the Old Testament shines brighter than ever in these five verses that the Israelites are never without hope and neither are we.
 
Something else profound struck me while reading this passage that has transformed the way that I receive correction from the Lord:  God’s rebuke in my life does not only reap benefits for myself, but for the lives of others. I don’t even have children yet, but after reading this passage I have come to practice asking myself: what if God is working out something in me today that will affect the generations that follow me? What if His rebukes to me today are for the benefit of my future children and their children?

We need to lengthen our understanding of how God works.

God will always have a wider and more pure perspective than us even in the small details of our life. Therefore, He knows exactly what events and actions in our day to day could become a blessing or a curse to our community and to the next generation.  Nothing is hidden from Him, and He sees what we can't see. 

And...

​God has ordered things to works in such a way that the past, present, and future affect each other.  In fact, as I’ve read the Old Testament these last few months, it has become clear to me that time is somehow both linear and fluid (more on this some other time). Therefore, we need not disconnect the present with the past or the future. 

So, let's trust God's correction and live in such a way today that the future generations will benefit from how well we live right now.