tis' so sweet

[You turned my wailing into dancing; you removed my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, that my heart may sing your praises and not be silent. LORD my God, I will praise you forever.] Ps. 30:11-12 

Oh Lord, so often I miss the opportunity to dance. You clearly put deliverance in my path, rescue from dangers, temptations, and failings. Your promise is yes and amen, your plan is righteous and good. Your love is perfect and rich, full of mercy and grace. You've met my biggest need, you sent your son as a sacrifice, as a mediator to die in my place and bridge the gap my sin had made. 

This is the only deliverance I need, the only song my heart needs to dance. But it's a song my heart knows well, one that is so familiar it can loose its impact. Not that this deliverance becomes any less amazing, but my feet get tired of the same rhythm and I get less inspired by the melody. I let noise like fear and anxiety creep in and muddy the mix. I don't trust my heavenly Father for anything, but rather hunch under the weight of my sin and struggles and shuffle along. 

Edward Welch says this about the Lords faithful deliverance, "For his daily, less noticeable deliverance I want the spirit to open my eyes so I can be thankful. For his mighty acts that appear at the eleventh hour, I want grace to trust him. But these after-the-fact deliverance's? I hardly know what to ask. What if you actually went through your worst nightmare, what then? Where was the deliverance? It means that there will be lots of sorrow as we walk through life, but we aspire to know sorrow that is mingled with hope. For subjects of King Jesus, death and tragedy are never the last word. The goodness of our God is certain."

Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame. -Hebrews 12:2

Sinner, deliverance is sweet, inheritance is yours, there may be sorrow but because of your Father it is always mingled with HOPE, your Father loves you and welcomes you, come and dance. 

getting to the heart of change

Change is a funny thing, we dread it, we crave it, we pray for it, we pray against it. Whatever the season, whatever the change it always seems to leave us feeling dazed and confused. For me personally change reveals a lot about my heart. I love control, I love predictability and preparation... I'm learning that after long seasons of waiting normally comes long seasons of change. Those very things like job security, finances, relationships, that you've been patiently waiting for the Lord to bring change in are finally happening and you realize control as you know it has come to an end.

 When you're waiting, it's a contentment issue, resting in the plan that your Father has for you. Being patient even when it feels like he's forgotten about your little life. When you're experiencing change, it's a contentment issue. You wonder if the Lord's playing a joke on you. Like okay, I know I whined about being stagnant but you didn't have to give me a hurricane. All it takes is one small thing piled on top of another small thing and all of a sudden you're drowning in a sea of doubt and unbelief.

In those seasons I kind of feel like praying, look Father, I know you have a sense of humor,  but really? Anything else you care to throw in the mix? International move, messy church splits, sickness, unknown test results, unreconciled relationships, new relationships, financial struggles, just to name a few. There are moments when  I just stop and read the Psalms and think, I get it (hardly) this man had no easy life. But David was faithful to cry out for protection and peace, for strength and for grace reminds me that, my Father loves. He hears burnt out, afraid, hurting, bitter, angry, exhausted, hopeless, wandering people. He promises rest, mercy and grace for those who ask.  It's a heart issue not a circumstance issue, it's not a matter of waiting or change, not a matter of difficulty or ease... it is about your heart.

 Father forgive me for being quick to let life overwhelm and cloud my view of your gospel. Forgive me for forgetting that those things are meant to point me to you, seeing you more powerful and greater then those things. I pray for my family and friends who are hurting, and struggling to believe that precious truth. That you died to save them, their greatest need has been met and you supply all we need for the day. Help us be people of faith, in your name, amen.

Your will, not mine.

That's a prayer I have prayed many times. Growing up submerged in church culture,  incredibly familiar with the trending new Hillsongs album and the messages on living your life for Christ, and this idea of running the race with endurance. I'm not old by any means, but I have been around the track a few times. There have been times where I boldly claim, "Your will not mine." It's typically coming off of a spiritual high where I feel like nothing can touch me, "to live is Christ! To die is gain! " A successful missions trip or a passionate prayer meeting, it's bundled with an eager expectation or excitement about what he can do.

 But the longer I run this track I see that you can't prepare for the stabbing cramps that creep up your sides, or the bitter wind that burns in your chest and stings your eyes. The pure exhaustion that takes over your body. Those moments when the idea of endurance seems like a far fetched wives tale. You're out of options, your months of planning and training are all worthless  You've been backed into a corner of desperation and  it comes out in almost a whisper, "Father, I can't do this, your will not mine." God, you are faithful father, you strengthen and give courage to the broken. No matter how convincing our failing bodies may be you will not let us fall.

You are the life giving Creator, orchestrating every detail, every breath, no matter how shallow or weathered. Father, lead me to the cross, show me your love, your sacrifice, your fulfillment of every promise you ever made. Help me get my eyes off my circumstances and onto your son. The sacrifice you made so that I can have relationship with you. Father, make me a needy person, make me dependent on you for strength for the day, for every breath, for every step, for every mile, looking to you, the living water.  Father, your will not mine.

[Morning by morning I wake up to find the power and comfort of God's hand in mine. Season by season I watch him amazed, in awe of the mystery of his perfect ways I can't remember a trial or a pain he did not recycle to bring me gain. I can't remember one single regret in serving God only and trusting his hand All I have need of his hand will provide. He's always been faithful to me]

morning by morning.

Your will, not mine. That's a prayer I have prayed many times. Growing up submerged in church culture, incredibly familiar with the trending new Hillsongs album and the messages on living your life for Christ, the exhortation from Paul run the race with endurance. I'm not old by any means, but I have been around the track a few times. There have been times where I boldly claim, "Your will not mine." It's typically coming off of a spiritual high where I feel like nothing can touch me, "to live is Christ! To die is gain!" A successful missions trip or a passionate prayer meeting, stir up an eager expectation or excitement about what the Lord can do.

 But the longer I run this track I see that you can't prepare for the stabbing cramps that creep up your sides, or the bitter wind that burns in your chest and stings your eyes. The pure exhaustion that takes over your body. Those moments when the idea of endurance seems like a far fetched wives tale. You're out of options, your months of planning and training are all worthless You've been backed into a corner of desperation and it comes out in almost a whisper, "Father, I can't do this, your will not mine." God, you are faithful father, you strengthen and give courage to the weak. No matter how convincing my failing body may be you will not let me fall. You are the life giving creator, orchestrating every detail, every breath, no matter how shallow or weathered.

Father, lead me to the cross, show me your love, your sacrifice, your fulfillment of every promise you ever made. Help me get my eyes off my circumstances and onto your son. The sacrifice you made so that I can have relationship with you. Father, make me a needy person, make me dependent on you for strength for the day, for every breath, for every step, for every mile, looking to you, the gracious God.

[Morning by morning I wake up to find the power and comfort of God's hand in mine. Season by season I watch him amazed, in awe of the mystery of his perfect ways I can't remember a trial or a pain he did not recycle to bring me gain. I can't remember one single regret in serving God only and trusting his hand All I have need of his hand will provide. He's always been faithful to me]

Running scared.

I've been running scared. So consumed by my need for acceptance and love from others that it's weighing me down and making my trek back to the cross of Christ, a long one. All this week the Lord's been dropping not so subtle hints that my desperate need for acceptance has been directed towards creation and not The Creator. Secondary things and relationships were fighting and winning my affections. I've been consumed with fear of what others are thinking of me. It's led me to the point of manipulation and a willingness to twist the truth, it's lead me to forsake time with the Lord and put on a show of serving in order to receive a certain stamp of approval. Completely consumed by fear of rejection I ended up empty, exhausted, and frustrated.

C.S Lewis wrote, "When I have learnt to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now. In so far as I learn to love my earthly dearest at the expense of God and instead of God, I shall not be moving towards the state in which I shall not love my earthly dearest at all. When first things are put first, second things are not suppressed but increased."

However, when second things become first things, first things become suppressed and we dangerously teeter on an unbalanced, shaky foundation lacking true joy and satisfaction.

Edward Welch says it this way, "We prefer to be the king rather than serve the King. But if we serve the King, our desire to be loved could not outdistance our commitment to love others in his name. Our own approbation would seem almost meaningless, irrelevant. REJECTION WOULD HURT, BUT IT WOULDN'T SIDETRACK US FROM OUR MISSION OF LOVE."

Father, help my heart to be more focused on my mission of loving others. Guard my heart from seeking approval and acceptance from man. My greatest need has been met. Help me to ignore hurtful words, be quick to forgive and quick to speak words of truth in love, instead of an intentional, sarcastic jab. Limit my vision to only seek the approval of my heavenly Father. For then love will be quick on my tongue and evident in my actions.

"For you were called to freedom, brothers. Only do not use your freedom as an opportunity for the flesh, but through love serve one another."

lead me to the cross.

Savior I come
Quiet my soul remember
Redemptions hill
Where Your blood was spilled
For my ransom
You were as I
Tempted and trialed
You are
The word became flesh
Bore my sin and death
Now you're risen!
Everything I once held dear
I count it all as lost

Lead me to the cross
Where Your love poured out
Bring me to my knees
Lord I lay me down
Rid me of myself
I belong to You
Lead me, lead me to the cross


Father, the weight of today hit me sitting in Starbucks, near the end of this busy Easter weekend. I've been so preoccupied this weekend "doing" getting so caught up in the immediate needs of the multiple services, attention to details and busying myself with tasks. I know my desire to work for your affection, I would much rather you give me a to do list, ways I can help my salvation or make you love me more. Father tonight I'm so aware of my inability to do any of those things. Father, Rid me of myself, lead me to the Cross, you died for me, forgave me, adopted me, welcomed me. I can't do anything, everything I once held dear, I count it all as lost. "He is not here, he has Risen."

Father, thank you.

What Then Shall We Say to These Things?

Satan hears the well-known voice, and lifts his foot from the neck of the fallen; and Death hears it, and the grave opens her gates to let the dead arise. Their way is one of progress, holiness, triumph, glory, and none shall dare to stay them in it. Come, my heart, rejoice in the immunity which thy Redeemer has secured thee, and bless His name all the day, and every day. C.H Spurgeon. 

Romans 8 puts it this way, "What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare his own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things? Who shall bring any charge against God's elect? It is God who justifies. Who is to condemn? Christ Jesus is the one who died - more than that, who was raised-who is at the right hand of God, who indeed is interceding for us. Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, "For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered." No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord." 

Father, today my fickle soul collapses in a heap. I'm so grateful that all my hope, all my righteousness, all my ability to stand before the throne is completely grounded on you. There are days and there are trials where I can't feel the sweet promise of your love. I let myself believe lies that satan's whispering or sometimes shouting in my ear. This makes my heart a slave to condemnation and drives me to "do" more, try harder, go further. I am weak and I'm not designed to carry this burden. I get worn out, frustrated, angry, bitter and resentful. 

Father help me camp out on the truths of scriptures like Romans 8. Help me set up house and build my life on this solid truth, so that no matter what I'm feeling, how low I may stoop, how frequent I fail, how often I fall prey to the lies of the enemy, I cannot be separated from your love. The same love that sent your own Son to suffer and die a criminal's death for my soul. To pay the price, to bridge the gap which welcomes me to the banquet feast.

I'm slowly learning these things; to lean heavily on your grace, to run faster and sooner back to you, and in moments of feeling weak, recognizing it's because I am. My loving Father is calling my name, bidding me to come and rest. I have a long way to go, but by your grace, I can look at my life, and point to your hand orchestrating it. Every single trial, every pain, every tear for my good, and ultimately your glory. 

You've met my biggest need...

"How will he not also with him graciously give us all things?"