The Storm’s Purpose

picssYou might be in pain. You might be battling sickness. You may be suffering a loss. You may feel insecure. Lost about the future. Worried about your child or your friend. You may suffer from anxiety or depression or helplessness. You may feel dragged down with guilt or struggles you can’t seem to overcome.

You might be in the middle of the storm.

But remember three words that Jesus once spoke that still apply today: “Peace. Be still!”

Your pain is not too big for God. And your pain will not be pointless. The storm may not end how you want it to, but it will end, and God will bring beauty out of the pain.

How often do you feel you need to be in control of life? In control of what happens tomorrow, in control of what grade you make, in control of your job, in control of your relationships, in control of your weight, in control of how the world sees you. Continue reading

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In My Darkest Days

39786331_10212593599581733_6465181104931340288_nI started this blog over five years ago with this post. I was about to go to YWAM in Kona, Hawaii for some of the best seven months of my life. I was getting ready to catalogue everything I learned while at YWAM, everything Jesus did, what I saw and who I met and what was happening in my life. I was 17, about to leave home for the first time to live across the ocean from my family. I knew it was going to be a crazy time in my life and I wanted to have a written history I could return to just as much as I wanted to share my experiences.

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Look how cute I was in 2013

I’ve had this blog through my entire college career. That first semester spent in Hawaii and Amsterdam getting to know myself, Jesus, his world, and making him known. I had it when I started college in Fayetteville, when I entered the worst two years of my life (all fault my own for that dark period), the faithfulness of Jesus when I left the dangerous situation I got myself in, the year I took off of school and lived at home and worked full time. I had the blog when I grudgingly enrolled at A&M, my dad almost died, I worked in news, and now. Finally my last semester of college.

Continue reading

Taking the Stairs

picsYou’re following my family’s story right? You’ve been reading our Facebook posts, liking them and sometimes commenting. Maybe you’ve shared one or two. You’ve prayed and reached out and I can’t say thank you enough.

If you haven’t been, that’s okay. Welcome to… well, I’d say hell but I’ve seen too much of heaven to be that blind. Welcome to one chapter of a bigger story. It’s a wild ride, step on and share it with us.

Here is the quick rundown: My dad is a traveling missionary. He was in Africa. Some d*mn mosquito bit him. (Eff that bug) My parents go to Siberia in the middle of no where. My dad is really sick and unresponsive. It’s 2 am. My mom is alone. Queue a week in a crappy Russian hospital where the paint is pealing off the walls and my mom isn’t allowed to see my dad and the doctors don’t speak English and they’re telling my mom to remember him as he was. Span over to Greenville, Texas in a full house on an acre of land where five people, mere kids in this moment, are desperately doing all they can to keep their dad alive from 10,000 miles away. Take in the whole picture and see thousands of people, believers, holding this family up. Fast forward to the success of my parents making it to Paris. The doctors doing all they can. The kids crying at his bedside while a machine breathes for their dad and their mom fights to stay strong.  Continue reading

You’re Going To Laugh

madison_lights_colored_edit11You’re going to laugh.

Loudly.

You won’t even think about those events from months ago because you’ve escaped.

Free.

You’ll be so happy you came home that you’re going to smile until your cheeks hurt and you’re sure you look like the Cheshire cat.

Every day. Continue reading

Defeated and Victorious

Tree I feel like I’m fighting the air itself as it pushes out of my lungs, crushing my chest with the weight of the universe. I’m sweating, crying, yelling with frustration as I shove against a hundred year old tree, willing it to move an inch for me. I’m laying on the floor of the boxing ring. I’m bleeding. I can’t breath. I can’t fight anymore. I’ve lost.

I’ve never won a battle on my own. I’ve never defeated the invisible enemy that renders me immovable. I will never be victorious on my own. I’m not made for solitary victory. I’m destined for failure. Alone, without the gospel and the Lord, I am defeated.  Continue reading