Cup of the Dawn

He knew how the night would end. There would be pain. There would be death. He also knew that the end was not the end. He knew the purpose behind His pain. His death would bring new life to others.

This is the cup that a hero drinks. The cup of giving until it hurts. The cup of sacrifice. It is a bitter drink that goes down hard, like a stone, scraping the path raw along the way. There is no easy way out. But to the hero, the price is not too high. Love for those who benefit outweighs the pain. The hero will run the race. Others will celebrate the victory. Knowing this does not reduce the pain. It gives the pain purpose. It gives the hero the courage to keep moving through the pain.

On the other side of the pain is a new day. For those who gain from the sacrifice, the new day is the life that was bought with the sacrifice. It is freedom never experienced before, courage from a deeper well. For the hero, the new day brings sweet relief, a mission accomplished, a purpose fulfilled.

As we live in each new day that we did not pay for, may we never take for granted our heroes, our saviors, the ones who give until it hurts.

“Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” Luke 22:42 NIV

The Luckiest Boy

“Charlie Bucket was the luckiest boy in the entire world. He just didn’t know it yet.” Charlie and the Chocolate Factory (movie, 2005)

It defies logic. It lingers beyond reason. When everyone else had hundreds of opportunities, he had hardly any. They bought their way to the winner’s circle. He stumbled upon the entrance fee. They expected to win. He was in awe of the opportunity to try. In a world where only the strong were expected to survive, the weakest stood as victor.

Am I overthinking a children’s story? Possibly.

How did Charlie win? Augustus’ mom gave him all of the candy that he wanted because it made him “happy.” Veruca’s daddy gave her everything she desired. Violet thought that life was about winning. Mike thought that the world was supposed to entertain him. When they found their tickets, they were proud, demanding, expectant.

Charlie had the least of everything. His parents skipped meals so that he could eat. He was cold. His life was hard. But he learned that good things were gifts, not rights. Opportunities were blessings, not entitlements. He learned that life was not about getting, it was about BEING. Being kind, compassionate, sincere, appreciative. His fear, pain, and discomfort taught him the lessons he needed to win the race. What appeared to be disadvantages made him the luckiest boy in the entire world. He just didn’t know it yet.

Life is full of paradoxes. Our struggle to be comfortable makes us miserable. The more we have, the less satisfied we become. The greatest joy often follows the deepest pain. And the weakest become the greatest.

I have seen this at work in my own life. Teen pregnancy brought my amazing son. Loss of my father brought me closer to my Heavenly Father. My deepest depression ended with a greater marriage and new direction. The list could continue.

If you find yourself struggling with fear, pain, or discomfort, hold on. You will reach the end, and when you do, you may find that you are the luckiest person in the world. You just don’t know it yet.

“So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” Matthew 20:16

Clover

Everlasting

She watched all of the beautiful people around her and wondered where she fit in. She wasn’t beautiful, like they were. She was largely unnoticed. At times, she felt invisible. The beautiful people smiled and laughed and connected with others as they moved along. She stayed by the wall, her feet rooted in place, observing and listening. When someone noticed her, she was surprised, and at times, suspicious. She had her share of people who only noticed her when she had something they wanted. She wondered what made her so different. She wondered if anyone would ever notice her just because she was worth noticing. She wondered why the ones she allowed herself to trust always seemed to leave.

A day came when she was tired of standing alone. Someone new offered her His hand, someone who was different from the others. She had nothing to lose. She took it and a strange sense of recognition filled her. She knew Him. He had been the wall at her back when she was surrounded by the beautiful people that she didn’t trust. He had been the ground where she planted her feet to stay safe. He had supported and protected her all along.

He told her a secret. She was beautiful. She was worth noticing. She always had been. The inability of others to see that only revealed their inability to see. He had always seen. He had always noticed. He had always loved.

So she stands there still today, by the wall, rooted firmly in the One who loves her.

“The Lord appeared to us in the past, saying: ‘I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with unfailing kindness.'” Jeremiah 31:3

flower

What Happens in Vegas…

It is a city of unashamed brokenness and unrivaled beauty, overwhelming excess and unlimited need. And a piece of my heart lives there. It doesn’t live in a house or expensive hotel. It doesn’t rest on a particular person who walks those flashing, flesh-lined streets. It covers the strip, the outlying communities, and the canyons in the distance. From the slot machine gambler hoping to hit the jackpot with his last coin, the young woman on the street in body paint, offering passers-by a photo op, and the beggar holding the sign that reads, “I’m not gonna lie. I need a beer,” to the gated communities, the red marbled mountains, the ghost towns, and the wild horses. It is broken. It is wild. It is real. It is beautiful.

I want to ride horses through the canyons. I want to walk the strip under the flashing lights. I want to pass through the noisy casinos full of desperate people. And I want to tell them who they are. I want to take the young woman by the shoulders and tell her that her value is so far beyond the cheap thrill someone gets from standing next to her nude-ish body for a photo. I want to tell the gambler that a sure-thing is waiting on the other side of surrender. I want to tell the guy with the sign where to find the living water. I want them all to know that they are worth dying for, and that it has already been done.

It is a lie, you know. What happens in Vegas doesn’t stay in Vegas. It follows you home. It sits on your shoulder. It whispers memories in your ear.

Vegas

The photo above is the statue in front of New York-New York, taken while I was driving back to the airport the week after my father died. Not the best photo taken while driving, but I did not want to lose that moment.

Red Rock

The photo above was taken at Red Rock Canyon the week that God breathed new life into our marriage. I pray for the opportunity to share the new life He offers with the rest of the city some day.

Hypothermia Means You Need Clothes

Michiganders are familiar with the early symptoms of hypothermia. We experience them each February when we step out the door to check the mail. However, the more advanced stages might be less well-known: lethargy, drowsiness, irritability, confusion, hallucinations, stripping, burrowing, and coma.

Stripping? As in removing clothes? Yes. While deep in the process of FREEZING TO DEATH, people are known to remove every stitch of clothing. Many have been found blue, stiff, and nude, their clothes several feet away. At some point during the process, they felt extremely warm. For some scientists, this is a mystery. Others believe that the organs that have been trying to keep the body alive stop functioning and release blood into rest of the body, creating an over-heated feeling. Regardless of the feeling, the fact is that the person is freezing to death and removing a vital source of heat retention. They treat their feelings as facts, even though they contradict the truth.

We allow many false feelings to override the truth.

I had faith in God as a child, but I lost it shortly after I hit double digits. My list of questions about my life, value, and purpose began to grow, as well as my doubts. I doubted that God was there, that He loved me, and that I mattered. I began believing that I was alone, I had to do everything on my own, and I couldn’t trust anyone to help me. I began looking for my value and purpose in the wrong places. By the age of 19, I had a 2-year-old son. I was also engaged to be married, and during pre-marital counselling, the pastor who was officiating our wedding asked if I wanted to give my life to Jesus. At this point, I knew that I was really good at messing up my life, and I did not want to do that to my son. So I said yes. Pastor Al prayed with me. When I opened my eyes afterwards, my vision had changed. The room was brighter. I could also see my life more clearly. When I looked back in time, I could see how God had been with me all of those years. I had never been alone.

Regardless of how you feel, you are not alone. God is there with you. He always has been. When you were hurt, He was hurting with you. When you were happy, He rejoiced with you. He has been waiting for you to acknowledge Him, turn to Him, and allow Him to take all of the broken pieces of your life and shape them into a beautiful mosaic. He does that. He makes beauty from our ashes.

Now you know, and you have two choices. You can continue to strip off your clothes in the cold darkness, denying the truth, living as if you have to do it all on your own, or you can acknowledge Him and step into the warm light of His love. Are you going to continue to live life based on a false feeling or are you going to respond to truth?

“Where can I go from your Spirit?
    Where can I flee from your presence?
If I go up to the heavens, you are there;
    if I make my bed in the depths, you are there.
If I rise on the wings of the dawn,
    if I settle on the far side of the sea,
even there your hand will guide me,
    your right hand will hold me fast.” Psalm 139:7-10

“Let us acknowledge the Lord; let us press on to acknowledge Him. As surely as the sun rises, He will appear; He will come to us like the winter rains, like the spring rains that water the earth.” Hosea 6:3

Snowman

Just Passing By

In 2014, God told me that I was to pursue full-time ministry. I didn’t believe Him. This was the third time He had given me this idea and I thought that I was fabricating it. I sat on it for a while, then starting talking to people close to me. Everywhere I turned, I received confirmation. I applied to college and was accepted. I requested confirmation from my church to pursue ordination and it was granted. This was new. Where doors had previously remained firmly closed, they began to open as if someone was holding them when I arrived.

At the same time, I was attacked. I immediately found myself in the center of spiritual, mental, physical, and emotional battles unlike any I had ever experienced. I was given a “thorn” in my heart that shook me to the core. It confused me. It made me question God, myself, my calling, and where it was leading me. I began losing weight. I couldn’t sleep. I sunk into a deep depression. I refer to 2014 as the year of the storm. It lasted more than two years.

Fast-forward to the summer of 2016. Though some of the spiritual battle was over, the thorn remained. By this time, the death of my father, the unexpected changes among my work family, and my decision to step away from ministry with girls that I loved like my own packed more pain around my thorn. I was at the edge of my strength. This was my year of darkness.

In the darkness, God periodically reminded me that He was there. While sitting on a bench outside my work, talking to God, I noticed a young woman jog past. Several people jogged past my work. I paid little attention. I closed my eyes. A minute later, a female voice, said, “Hi!” I looked up and the jogger was standing on the sidewalk near me. She had turned around and came back. After exchanging pleasantries, we recognized each other. She had attended school with my oldest son years before. She was in her mid twenties at this point. She said, “As I was jogging by, I felt like God wanted me to tell you to persist. Persevere. Keep moving forward. Does that mean anything to you?” Does that mean anything to me? It was a spark of hope, a word to stay the course on my dark path.

A few weeks later, I was taking a walk in my neighborhood, arguing with God (again). I noticed a decorative sign in a yard just two blocks from my house. “Hold on child, I’ve got you. Love, God.” I stopped and looked at it for a several seconds, then kept walking. Then I returned, trespassed in a stranger’s front yard, and took a picture.

Proverbs 20:24 reads, “A person’s steps are directed by the Lord. How then can anyone understand their own way?” The young woman was just passing by, and the Lord stopped her. To share a message. With me. I was just passing by and I saw a sign. That was not there before. That I needed to see. When we trust God, we can plan all we want, but Someone is guiding us. We can’t run away from Him, and He never walks away from us. Feelings are deceiving. He is always there.

A few days after I saw this sign, God turned everything around. Everything. It took years. Don’t stop moving. When you find yourself in a dark season, remember that you are just passing by.

Yard Sign