13 Lessons Learned in 2013

13. Sometimes, all you need is a cheesy romance novel and a long nap. A lot of the times, we make our problems way more complicated than they need to be. Interestingly enough, their solutions are often simple. Life and its challenges can be exhausting. So when we’re exhausted, we should rest.

 

12. Imperfection is perfectly acceptable. I’ve lived my life with the notion that I’m superwoman. Unfortunately, that is not the case. I have faults. A lot of them, actually. But I’m no better or worse than anyone else on this planet. We all have things we’re great at and things we suck at. Just like a human body, however, all parts are needed for the creation of a functioning whole. I’m so glad I have people in my life who can help me in my weaker areas and vice versa.

 

11. Change is inevitable. But it isn’t always for the worse. Towards the end of this past school year, I had to let go of quite a few people and things that meant a lot to me. I thought that the world would come to a striking halt. Strangely enough, it did not. While I still miss some of the things I had to let go of, the earth continues to turn, and I continue to discover new blessings each day.

 

10. Never underestimate yourself or God’s plans for your life. This year, I’ve learned that I’m capable of a lot more than originally thought. Looking back, I honestly regret excluding myself from certain people or activities with a fear of not being “good enough.” You weren’t created to spend your life comparing yourself to other people. When you let God conform you into the person he created you to be, everything else pretty much falls into place.

 

9. Reading good books is a good thing to do. One of my resolutions for 2013 was to read 50+ books or other works of literature. I met that goal, and each thing I’ve read has changed me in some way or another. (With all that reading, you’d think I’d know an adjective other than ‘good.’ Maybe next year.)

 

8. Labels are stupid. People don’t fit in boxes. Much less boxes with neatly crafted labels.

 

7. A smile can be a very powerful thing. Sometimes I wonder if I freak people out with all my smiling. I probably do, but I can’t help it. If nothing else, I hope that my life demonstrates what pure joy looks like. So even when I’m really not as “fantastic” as I might profess to be, I can always find something to be happy about. Everyone needs a little more hope and a little less negativity.

 

6. When you get beneath the surface, most people have really beautiful stories. The best way to show a person you care about them is to listen to what they have to say.

 

5. Life requires discipline. I have to study to get good grades on tests. I have to eat healthy and exercise to stay in shape. Blog posts really aren’t as easy to write as I thought they would be. But is anything that comes easy really worth having?

 

4. Laughter is the best medicine. I probably shouldn’t confess that when I’m having a bad day I often sit in my room and laugh hysterically. It’s kind of embarrassing. But at the end of the day, life is pretty funny. (Note: The laughter treatment is even more effective when shared with the people you care about.)

 

3. It’s really important to let people know what they mean to you. Contrary to popular belief, it’s okay to be corny and sentimental in public. My absolute best memory of 2013 was passing out handwritten letters to the cast and crew of the school musical I participated in. I didn’t really know how everyone would take it. Fortunately, they were all quite touched- or they employed their best acting skills. In any case, studies show that those who express gratitude to those who mean a lot to them are more emotionally stable than those who don’t.

 

2. Hate added to hate doesn’t improve the hate situation. There are too many hateful people in the world. And that sucks. Unfortunately, hating hateful people doesn’t contribute to the solution. It only worsens the problem. God loves everyone equally, and so should we.

 

1. The kindness you put into the world will always come back to you in full. Even if the seeds of kindness you plant aren’t harvested before your eyes, there’s no better feeling than knowing they were planted. You never know how you’ll be used to touch someone else’s life, but that should never stop us from trying.

 

 

~ Here’s to 2014 and all the challenges and lessons it will bring. Happy New Year, everyone!

Worth the Wait

"Keep on asking, and you will receive what you ask for. Keep on seeking, and you will find. Keep on knocking, and the door will be opened to you."

 

~ Matthew 7:7

 

 

You’ve been on a long, strenuous journey. Each step is a battle as your body cries out in pain. Your heart grows heavy when you examine the vast expanse of barren land stretching out to taunt you. But then, you see it- the faint outline of a house in the distance. As you grow closer, you see that there is a gleaming light radiating from the windowsills. At first, hope flickers inside you like the glow of a fitful lightning bug, but from there it begins to grow. It glimmers with all of its eager brilliance and illuminates the most dark and desperate chambers of your soul. It’s the hope that maybe, just maybe, some compassionate spirit in that house will open his doors, take you in, and give you a place to rest your weary eyes. He’ll give you something to satisfy your emaciated stomach. He’ll help you find the hope you’ve been looking for all along.

 

The very thought is enough to turn your burdened gait into a rejuvenated sprint. The bitter wind eats at the nape of your frostbitten neck, but you push against it with everything you have. Finally, with a pounding heart and bated breath, you find yourself on the doorstep of this house, this fortress- an ornate mansion that towers over you in greatness. Anxiously, you pound on the door with your trembling fist. Nothing. You knock a little harder- furiously, even.

 

“Please, sir. Let me in,” you mutter desperately. “I know you can hear me!” Silence. Earsplitting silence. We don’t know whether to be more persistent in our plea, or to dejectedly walk away.

 

Isn’t this how we feel with God sometimes? We’ve come so far. We’ve knocked so hard. We’ve waited so long for Him to bring us into His embraces, to offer us peace and rest. But it seems as if He’s remained silent. He’s left us out in the cold to grovel in our despair. He must be the callous mansion owner watching over us from His lofty place of warmth and comfort; He must be mocking us in our agony. Believe me. I know the feeling. I know what it’s like to feel as if my fervent prayers somehow disintegrate into all of God’s incomprehensible breadth. I know what it’s like too feel like I’m so low on His priority list that I’ve just been shoved to the bottom of the stack. I know what it’s like to feel like His pawn in some sick, twisted game. I’ve been there. We all have, at some point or another- whether we’ve never been able to muster a prayer or whether we’ve prayed the same one 1,000 times.

 

And in the midst of it all, we are challenged with a word, a command, that arouses torrents of overwhelming frustration: “Wait.” Wait for things to get better. Wait for reconciliation in that relationship. Wait to find what you’re looking for. Wait for healing Wait for peace. Wait.

 

“Wait, God? Are you freaking kidding me? Do you know how cold it is out here? Do you know how lost, hungry, and hopeless I am? Why on Earth do you want me to wait!?”

 

I know that nothing can be said to relieve the temporary affliction that accompanies periods of prolonged suffering. But I can offer a few eternal promises: your perseverance will strengthen you; it will conform you to the image of God: “For we know that suffering produces perseverance, perseverance character, and character, hope. And this hope will not disappoint us because God’s love has been poured out to us through Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 5:3-5). You will be renewed and your steps will be refreshed; you won’t just walk- you’ll soar: “But they who wait for the Lord shall renew their strength; they’ll mount up with wings like eagles; they shall run and not become weary; they shall walk and not become faint” (Isaiah 40:31).  You will yield a reward far greater than what seems imaginable: “Be patient, therefore, brothers, until the coming of the Lord. See how the farmer waits for the precious fruit of the earth, being patient about it, until it receives the early and the late rains. You also, be patient, for the coming of the Lord is at hand” (James 5:7-8). Greater things are coming. Greater things you will find if you seek them earnestly, no matter how long and strenuous the journey may be. No matter how long you’re waiting on the doorstep.

 



 

            And while you’re waiting? By no means do you have to like it. By no means do your prayers have to be “nice.” It’s perfectly okay to raise your voice with God; I don’t think He minds. It’s okay to knock harder- put a hole in the door, if absolutely necessary. God will see your persistence. Into your persistence, He will pour His incredible power. Others will see your faith, and they’ll be stunned. (Or maybe they’ll think you’re crazy. That’s okay too.) Your renewed spirit will shine bright enough to illuminate a thousand nights. And when the time is right, the bitter winds will shift. The horizon will brighten. A benevolent man with scarred hands and a compassionate gaze will come down to greet you. You’ll find that in His house are many rooms, filled with broken, imperfect people. All along, He has been preparing a place for you. It offers shelter. It offers hope and healing. It offers reconciliation. It offers satisfaction and peace. And it’s far greater than anything you ever could have imagined. You rest in this man’s embrace and thank Him for hearing your cry. He commends you for not giving up.

 

            So don’t give up.

            Keep on asking- because the life you receive will be abundant.

            Keep on seeking- because you might be surprised at what you find.

           

            Keep on knocking- because when the door finally creaks open, what lies beyond the threshold will be worth the wait.

 

 



One Thing Remains

“Whatever is good and perfect comes down from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens. He never changes or casts a shifting shadow.”

~ James 1:17

 

There are quite few things in life that I’m just absolutely terrible at. Take athletics, for instance. I can barely walk in a straight line, much less run, handle a ball, and fight off my competitors all at the same time. And art. I mean, I guess I could splatter some paint on a canvas and someone would call it art, even though that’s still pushing it a little. But of all the things in this world that I’m not so great at, I’m the worst at change. It makes my head ache and my skin crawl. I hold so many things close to my heart, and I hate letting go of them. Conveniently enough, I’m approaching that time of year where a lot of things start changing. New school year. New classes. New teachers. New friends. New joys. New hearbreaks. And I don’t quite know how to prepare myself for it all. Sometimes I wish time would just freeze and allow me to soak up all of the precious things that today has to offer. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Like a cruel thief, time has a way of stealing everything we cling to. All we are left with is tomorrow, in all of its daunting uncertainty and swelling excitement.

                                                                 

 

            I could spend this post talking about how we should respond to change in all of its forms. I could even write out a nice, neat, five-step formula for you. But like I said earlier, I’m not very good at change, so I’m probably not the best person to ask. (I’m also not too great with formulas, so it could actually just be a recipe for disaster.) All I can really say is that in the face of change, some things are constant. The appearance of the sky always changes, but it’s still the same sky. So maybe instead of focusing on the clouds, we should focus on the persistence of the heavens themselves. Instead of focusing on what I can say to inspire you in times of rapid adjustment or sudden destruction, maybe I should focus on what can never be destroyed, no matter what the skies may contain.

 

            I don’t know who’s reading my blog at any given moment. This particular post is specifically dedicated to my friends leaving for college in the coming days, but if given the opportunity to speak to the entire world, these next few words would be the ones to pass my lips. I desperately pray that my actions have always been a testament to them because I know that actions are far more powerful than words alone. But if you ever get anything out of this blog, or out of having known me personally, please, make it this: No matter how small you may feel in such a big world, you are not worthless. You are beautiful, and you are loved. I know what its like to doubt, to hurt, and to struggle, but I believe in a God who never once doubted His love for me- or you. He loves you so much it hurts. Your name is etched in the wounds on His hands and in His sides. Sometimes, Christians do a crappy job at communicating this message, and I’m so sorry for that. It’s because we’re people, and people can be pretty crappy. (I know I can be pretty crappy.) I say this all the time, but I don’t know everything, as much as I wish I did. I do know that my relationship with God has transformed me and continues to do so, even on the days when my failures are beyond words. Because God doesn’t look at us and see our failures. He sees Himself: “Therefore, since we have been made right in God’s sight by faith, we have peace with God because of what Jesus Christ our Lord has done for us. Because of our faith, Christ has brought us into this place of undeserved privilege where we now stand, and we confidently and joyfully look forward to sharing God’s glory” (Romans 5:1-2). No matter what chapter of life you’re in, God is writing a story for you that is filled with grace, beauty, and redemption. When everything around you crumbles, He will lift you in His tender hands and take you far above the ruins.

 

            You were created for rich and abundant life, and no one can take that away from you. Pursue that authentic abundance with everything you have. Take risks, and follow your dreams and passions; they’re there for a reason. Most of all, ask God to increase your capacity to love others selflessly. And don’t just love when it’s easy. Love when it costs you. Because if you only love those who love you in return, what reward do you have? Lay down your life for your enemies. Allow your compassion to triumph over your fears. Let your life overflow in indulgent, unconditional love. I strongly believe that the love you put into the world will come back to you in the end. And even though I quote this verse all the time, I strongly believe that true love, which comes from God, will be the light that allows us to behold the magnificent image of wholeness that our hearts cry out for: “Now we see things imperfectly, like puzzling reflections in a mirror, but then we will see everything with perfect clarity. All I know now is partial and incomplete, but then I will know everything completely, just as God knows me completely. Three things will last forever- hope, faith, and love- but the greatest of these is love” (1 Corinthians 13:12-13).

 

            We live in a world of constant change, but when we cling to the hope that some things are eternal, we race towards tomorrow with gleaming eyes. We can believe that by the strength of that which does not fade away, all of the tears will be wiped from our eyes, sorrow and pain will be no more, death will be wiped away, and all things will be made new. We are beautiful, and we are loved- not just for this divine day in the future, but for all the days of our lives. And so we do not have to run from or fear change as we are covered by the greatest thing that remains- a love that never changes.

* I love music, and I feel like this song says it all much better than I ever could.

                                                                                       

 

Walking on Water

There’s something really philosophical about standing on the beach and looking out at the ocean. Maybe it’s the way the emerald green waters extend far beyond the horizon to meet an infinite panel of deep blue sky. It absolutely blows my mind that anything could be bigger or greater than the expanse of the sea enveloped in the expanse of the heavens. It makes me feel so small and insignificant. I feel even more insignificant when I realize that indeed, God’s love and grace are in fact deeper than the deepest ocean, and wider than the sky. Or maybe it’s the way the waves rush back out into the unknown to remind me of life’s ever-changing, yet ever-constant nature. Or maybe it’s the way my eyes wander down as my feet beneath the innumerable grains of sand. How crazy is it to think that God can hold each tiny grain of sand in the mere palm of His hand, and not one will slip through?

                                                                                  

 

(Like, really. Is this not just absolutely breathtaking?)

                                                                              

 

       But then, as the sun begins to set, the sky begins to darken, and the winds begin to pick up, my mind wanders to a timeless story that has become the center of countless sermons, poems, those slightly cheesy paintings of Jesus. You know, the ones where He stands atop the raging seas as if it were simply a casual stroll.  The scene seems unfathomable. Impossible, even. An ordinary man doing the extraordinary. Walking on water.

 

To me, walking on water isn’t about doing what’s impressive to man. Actually, when Jesus did it, His miraculous act wasn’t so well received. When His disciples, who He was so desperately walking towards, saw Him, they cried out in fear, thinking that they had seen a ghost. It certainly doesn’t start with your own accord. It starts with a step of faith.

 

And this step of faith comes with a call that should silence our fears and awaken our longing to do incredible things with the help of God: “Take courage! It is I. Do not be afraid” (Matthew 14:27).

 

There was one disciple whose awe did not leave Him in utter terror. After hearing the voice of His savior, Peter, who was notoriously impulsive, cries out, “Lord, if it is you, tell me to come to you on the water” (Matthew 14:28). Some may see this as a lack of faith on Peter’s part. But I see it as the complete opposite. How many of us are so desperate to behold the face of God that we want to be called out over deep, churning waters? How many of us truly believe that He will sustain us even in our most meager attempts to step out in unfaltering trust? How many of us are content to sit idly in the boat and wait for the storm to die down and for the skies to clear? We were not created for mediocrity. We were not created for the boat.

 

“Come,” Jesus replied, beckoning Peter into the turbulent tempest.

 

We were created for the hard places, for the hard times. For the places where all reasonable odds fight against us and the biting winds do not blow in our favor. Fortunately, our creator knows how daunting these places can be and He refuses to let us sink. Because when we begin to waver in our doubt and trepidation, He catches us in His powerful grasp and places our trembling feet back on top of the foamy gray waters. When we don’t know whether to press on towards the shore or farther out into uncharted waters, He allows us to simply press on towards Him.

When it comes down to it, that’s what I think walking on water is all about. It’s about pressing on in unshakable faith, even when the skies are black with no hope of brightening, the waves are towering with no hopes of receding, and the winds are fierce with no hope of relenting. It’s about being so desperate to know God and make Him known that we follow His call wherever it may lead. It’s about earnestly believing the words of Isaiah 43:2: “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you, and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you.” 

                                                                    

     

 

It’s a concept that’s beautiful to believe, but much more difficult to apply. Maybe you’ve been clinging desperately to the side of the boat for as long as you can remember, feeling like an outsider to those inside. Simply let go and stand in the loving embraces of God for the first time. Or maybe you’ve been sitting comfortably in the boat for quite some time because you’re happy to confine your relationship with God into a “Don’t drink, smoke, or, swear,” religion, but it’s stopped there. It hasn’t been radical, and it hasn’t blown your mind. Please look at the possibilities out there. There’s an entire ocean longing for your footprints. Or perhaps you’ve timidly placed your toes in the water, and you know that you’re searching for more. Take that step of faith and allow God to use you to do big things- really big things- like feeding the hungry and clothing the poor. Your faith will be honored, I promise. And if you feel like you’re already treading the troubled ocean waters, but you’re sinking, you’re not. You are not alone out there. The God of the universe is standing right there with you, smiling down on you as the frigid waters crash on your face. Keep fighting. Or better yet, allow God to keep fighting for you. You are out there for a reason, and you never know the feet that may be soon to follow.

 

           Whoever you are, and wherever you are, I hope you are as astounded by the mystery of the ocean as I am. I hope you know that God’s love and grace are deeper than the massive ocean He has placed you in. I hope you know that as you weather the storms of life, the conditions will always change, but some things are constant. And I hope you remember this: If God can hold each grain of sand in the palm of His hand without letting even one slip away, He can hold on to you as you defy the limits of mediocrity and learn to walk on water. 

* For all of you music gurus out there, one of my favorite worship songs fits this post perfectly. It's called "Oceans" by Hillsong, and you can listen to it here! (:

Shining in the Night

"Faith is the strength by which a shattered world shall emerge into the light."
~ Helen Keller

 

 

Faith. The glimmering ray of hope that permeates the darkness of human fallibility. Since the beginning of time, confidence in something greater has illuminated the path of mankind across lofty peaks and through dusks of despair. But in the midst of overwhelming obscurity, the rays of faith are often depleted of their light. Endless nights of depravity, desperation, and despondence have the power to deprive even the most fervent individuals of their most blazing beliefs, and many succumb to the blackened depths. 

It is no mystery that we live in a world ridden with pain and suffering. Disaster strikes. Relationships crumble. Our precious plans fail. A lot of the times, my faith isn’t just challenged by my own distress. It is challenged by the affliction of those I love and care about, and those I wish I could save. I see tears falling from the eyes of my friends, and I wonder why God won’t wipe them away. I turn on the news and hear stories of violence and bloodshed, and I wonder how a loving God could allow such terrible things to take place. A gleaming beacon of faith no longer brightens the sky above me as I look for the answers within its vastness. Instead, the silent, infinite panel above mocks me in my doubt. From a place of pride and anger, I cry out to God much like David did: “Awake, Lord! Why do you sleep? Rouse yourself! Do not reject us forever. Why do you hide your face and forget our misery and oppression?” (Psalm 44:23-24). We wonder if God has abandoned us and all of His creation. We revel in the futile mutterings of another unanswered prayer. As we ask ourselves if the somber skies will remain silent forever, faith’s fire is often extinguished.

Whether we realize it or not, the effects are devastating.

When all hope and assurance are lost, wallowing in the darkness often leaves us swallowed. Faith propels us towards a brighter tomorrow. It allows us to go to bed each night knowing that even though the waters roar and the mountains quake with their surging, we have refuge and strength. When this hope taken from us, our steps lose their joy. An immense void opens up inside. It overwhelms us with a darkness more impenetrable than any other. As the flame of faith flickers, we often become stranded in the utter absence of light.

Am I saying that you should never doubt? That you should never question your faith? Absolutely not. I would even venture to say that periods of uncertainty can lead us into more unshakable certainty. Consider the story of Job. Job was an incredibly Godly man, but his faith was shaken tremendously when suffocating blackness impends upon him. He loses his wealth, his family, and his physical health. His response is relatively human: “What strength do I have, that I should still hope? What prospects, that I should be patient? Do I have the strength of stone? Is my flesh bronze? Do I have any power to help myself, now that success has been driven from me?” (Job 6:11-13). Job’s friends, despite their honorable intentions, end up doing more harm than good. They blame Job for things he has no control over. They tell him that he should have more faith. But at the end of this remarkable narrative, we discover that perhaps his faith was being strengthened to a degree far greater than that of his friends because God was living and active in the midst of his suffering. As Job 40:6 declares, “Then the Lord God spoke to Job out of the storm . . .” He is then brought to an intimate place of faith and repentance. “Then Job replied to the Lord: I know that you can do all things; no purpose of yours can be thwarted. You asked, ‘Who is this that obscures my plans without knowledge?’ I spoke of things I did not understand, things too wonderful for me to know” (Job 42:2-3). God used ineffable curses and turned them into abundant blessings of strong mettle and refreshed faith.

You do not always have to like your circumstances. You do not have to simply sit around and wait for the dawn. You can find beauty in the night.  Believe this, and let it penetrate the most opaque chambers of your life. As Paul so beautifully pens, “We also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces endurance, endurance character, and character, hope. And this hope will not put us to shame because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us” (Romans 5:3-5).

May you always fight the good fight. May you let the grace of God manifest itself into glorious fruits, even in the dry desert land. And may you always keep your downtrodden eyes fixed upon the glimmering ray of hope shining in the night before the light yields to the darkness on the horizon.