You know that feeling when you know God has something to tell you and all day you feel it in the back of your head? Like a whisper blowing through your mind, tickling all your senses till you give into the words? The promises?
All day God had been telling me to read Matthew 8.
But we all know I process through words. And I’ll be d*nged if there isn’t more to process than I ever could have imagined. Let me start by saying this:
I have been given a glimpse of the Kingdom of Heaven.
Everywhere I turn someone is telling me they love me, they’re here for us, they are praying for my family, offering to help. Every minute I know my family is covered in prayer. Multiple times this week I’ve felt like I couldn’t continue. It was over. My Daddy was gone, I wouldn’t be able to continue. I don’t know how to do my taxes, I’ve never met someone who can hug me like him, I’m not married yet so who will walk me down the aisle? In the midst of God’s faithfulness, I’ve felt my faith failing. I’ve felt myself doubt promises of God’s goodness. Continue reading →
It has come to my attention that many of you, yes you, even if you don’t know who I am, have gone to other people to find out how I’m doing.
You can’t ask me yourself, so you have to ask my friends. Or my mom. Or I guess you could ask me, but I wouldn’t tell you.
You don’t actually want to know, do you? You just want to gossip. You want a spectacle. You want something/someone to point at and go ‘look at her life, it’s worse than mine.’ You want a story, to be entertained. That’s all you want, right? You don’t actually care about me. You’re not asking out of love. You’re not trying to honestly figure out how I’m doing because you care so why should you get to know? I won’t be your spectacle. I won’t be your gossip or your horror story.
But what I realized last night is maybe you actually do care. Maybe you actually do love me and you genuinely, honestly, want to know how I am.
Have you ever been so frustrated that you decide you’re just going to give up forever? Ever decided ‘yup, this is where I’m going to die.’?
That’s how I felt laying in three feet snow, skis stuck to my boots and poles unable to find ground. My dad standing still twenty feet down the mountain, yelling ‘turn your skis to the side and stand up!” I struggled to do as he said only to fall once again.
“Just go!” I tell him. He refuses, of course. I was frustrated, embarrassed, and tired. I could not get up for the life of me. Maybe I never would. I would just fall asleep there, maybe freeze to death. Eventually someone would come save me. They’d have to cut off my feet and hands due to frostbite. I’d be a horror story parents tell their kids to keep them from skiing too far to the side of the mountain where their skis will sink in the fresh snow. My parents would shake their heads sadly whenever someone asked them how their vacation was. Continue reading →
I was looking at how many views my blog gets, and I noticed something.
The more personal a post, the more views it gets. If I really get uncomfortable, the amount of views shoots skyward. This was not good news to me. I was not excited. I did not go “Oh, well then I definitely need to start being more personal!” because no. That’s not something I do. It’s not something I can handle. In fact, the idea wakes up my anxiety and gets it screaming again. I have to calm myself down. And recently I found out why.