You Are Not Alone

Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep. -Romans 12:15

This week has been a humbling lesson in how badly I need others.  I am fiercely independent, to the point of stubbornness.  However, recently God has been pressing on me my need for fellowship.

I am not a "sharer." If something is bothering me, I tend to bottle it up and hide the bottle far, far away. Not only is this unhealthy, but it is also counterproductive. You see, feelings come to the surface in the end, one way or another. Either, you can express them at the time you are feeling them (which is what an emotionally mature person does) or you can hide them away and hope they vanish (which is what I do). If you do the latter, you are only temporarily extinguishing your emotions. They eventually resurface, and usually in an unhealthy way- such as anger.

However, recently God has put people in my life that not only allow me to share with them, but that encourage me to.  As I have grown with Christ, I am slowly becoming more and more aware of my complete and utter helplessness without Him. This is not something to be ashamed of; it is something to be rejoiced.  It is not until we admit and accept our helplessness that we are able to fully give ourselves to God.

Christ wants us to be dependent on Him. Christ also wants us to be dependent upon one another as followers in Christ.  He has created us as beings who yearn for companionship- even Jesus had disciples. 

So, instead of pretending like we can handle our wearisome burdens, it is right and pleasing in God's eyes if we throw up our hands and say "God, I need you to handle this! I need others to comfort me! I can't do this!" I think once we do this, God smiles and says, "Don't worry, my child, you are not alone."

A Thankful Heart

 Rejoice always,  pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. - 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

I had a very wise person tell me something this weekend that struck me. She said "sometimes you should pray just to tell God 'thanks' ".

When times are tough I transform into this prayer warrior; I constantly pray for wisdom, strength, patience and peace. When life is so-so or really great, my prayers are not nearly as passionate or as constant.  We often see prayer as a time to ask for help, which it surely is, but it is also a time to tell God thanks for all the blessings He has given us.

Right now is a time in my life where I am flying high and feeling surrounded by God's love and blessings.  So, I want to consciously and thoughtfully make the effort to take the time to thank God. Without Him, I would be nothing and have nothing to be thankful for.

However, I know that there will be those days when things get tough again. I should thank God then too. Scripture says to give thanks in all circumstances. This means to thank God not only for His blessings, grace and love, but also to thank Him for the struggles and the heartache because they are also gifts from God. When times are tough, I don't understand God's purpose for the obstacles I am given. Sometimes, I even feel bitter about them. However, maybe God allows these trying times to happen so that we can grow closer to Him, or so that we can learn our own strength or for many other reasons that we cannot fully grasp. Either way, if we trust in Christ, He will always do what is best for us, even if it doesn't seem so at the moment.

So, this is just me saying thanks for all that I have been given. I could probably never say it often enough, but Thank you God.

Lookin' for Love in All the Wrong Places

My First Love

Do you remember your first love? Of course you do. I'm sure as soon as you read that question, an image or memory formed in your mind. First loves become this sort of idolized persona in our heads to whom all following relationships will inevitably be compared and measured in some sort of way.

My first love had dirty blonde hair and hazel-green eyes that changed colors depending on what color shirt he was wearing. He was tall and lanky and sometimes a little shy and awkward. He was intimidatingly smart and knew something about everything or pretended to at least. He was sarcastic and bold and never afraid to put me in my place. We met when I was sixteen and he was eighteen. We didn't know anything about what love really meant, but we also knew nothing about what heartache truly meant either. So with a certain amount of naivety and a large amount of teenage hormones, we became one another's first loves.

As teenagers do, he decided to go away to college...several states away. When he left, I was devastated. My parents and friends tried everything they could to cheer me up, but I spent months moping around with swollen eyes and my first broken heart.  Eventually, as time went on, the pain lessened and my heart began to heal.

Although, we always seem to move on with our lives after our first loves, there seems to be a little part of us that still clings to that naive, intense, pure love that can only be experienced once and at a young age. 

I'm in Love with Love!

We often scoff at the hopeless romantics who wave their "Love Conquers All" flag as they march around looking for Prince Charming.  When we see teenage couples or hear them talk about love, we laugh to ourselves and think "oh... if they only knew." However, I am here to argue the case that these people who think love is all we need, are far more wise than us jaded cynics who know that with love comes heartache.

A Love that Lasts

 As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God. - Psalm 42:1

I think the first time I ever read this scripture I thought to myself  "whoa that is a pretty intense love this person's got going on for Christ."  I found it kind of strange actually and maybe a little creepy. However, years later, reading this scripture shows me a glimpse of something I want very badly: an intimate and deep love for Christ and an unquenchable desire to be close to Him.  I had those feelings for my first love,  why can't I feel the same way about Christ? That's exactly how Christ wants us to feel.  Our relationship with Christ should not be some lackluster, lukewarm platonic friendship; it should be as passionate and intense as a first love.

I have spent years seeking fulfillment and self-worth in earthly relationships when all along, someone has never stopped loving me.  I have never felt completely satisfied with my relationships, and when things ended I blamed it on numerous things: bad timing, the wrong person, etc., etc. However, it took me until recently to realize that I will never be fulfilled by one person; I will never be happy with the love I find on earth until I become satisfied with the love I find in Christ.

Christ knows all that we are, all what we've been and all that we will become and He loves us anyways.  He loves us when we hurt Him, when we abandon Him, when we deny Him, when we curse Him and when we disappoint Him.  While a first love may linger with us long after it has ended, Christ's love is the only love that lasts forever.

Call me crazy but I'd like to love Christ like He's my first love. I'd like to love him with that same reckless abandon I had at sixteen.

It's Just a Little Paint

Me at 4- breaking hearts and crayons like nobody's business!

When I was four, my dad became an associate pastor at a large church in Rocky Mount, NC. Being too young for school, I began to attend the church's daycare program.  This meant that I got to ride with Daddy every day to work, and when he was finished with work for the day, he would leave his office, walk down the hallway and take me home.

My sister, being a year older than me, began kindergarten, and so I was left in daycare alone.  Daddy and I began a routine of sorts: every day, he would take me home from daycare, fix me lunch and then set me in front of the television to watch Muppet Babies while he took a nap.  Every day I would sit Indian style on the carpet, my little neck craning up at the mammoth screen as I sang along to the cartoon's theme song. I could probably sing the song word for word to this day.

Daddy took naps because, well, he loves to take naps. I watched television because, as a child, I always refused to take them.  I remember that before my mother went back to work (she quit her job when she had my sister and didn't go back until we moved to NC when I was four), she would put my sister and me down for naps. My sister, always the obedient, sweet child, would take a nap. Myself, being the "mess" of the family, would pretend to sleep until my mother left the room. Then I would tip-toe around the house until she eventually discovered me, which she usually did. After a few years, she gave up the hope of naps for me.

Sometimes, when Daddy had business to finish in his office, he would pick me up from daycare and I would sit down in a leather chair, with big brass buttons,that swallowed me whole.  Sometimes, he would let me play on a typewriter he had.  Oh yes, he had a typewriter- I just made myself look ancient.  I would type away, having no idea what the letters on the paper meant but inventing stories in my head of what they said.


The story I am about to tell you, I'm not really sure how or why I even remember, but it's somehow been carved into my memory all these years, and I have affectionately stowed it away on the bookshelves of my mind to be pulled down on a bad day like an old and familiar story.

One day, something terribly tragic happened that broke my four-year-old heart. What it was, I have no clue. Probably a scraped knee or some teasing from a playmate. Anyways, to a toddler, whatever it was, it was devastating. I ran to my dad's office, sobbing over the travesty that had happened.  On this day, I was sporting a fresh mask of face paint- maybe I was crying because I was submitted to such cruel and unusual punishment as face paint which makes your face endlessly itch from the mere knowledge that you are no longer allowed to scratch it. Anyways, I ran into his arms and he scooped me up, put me into his lap, and sat me down in his leather chair behind his desk.  He held me, rocked me, shushed me and listened to me hiccup between tears what had upset me. To a grown man, my childish heartache probably sounded silly and trivial but if he had thought that, he never showed it. I remember clearly, the frown lines etched into his forehead as he listened with concern as if I was telling him that the world was coming to an end.  Once I was calmed, he picked me up, put me on the floor and helped me clean my tear-streaked face.  As he was wiping my tears, I saw with horror that his clean, crisp collared shirt was covered in my face paint. To be precise, there was an exact imprint of a miniature face pressed against the chest of his shirt.  I apologized, terrified at the mess I had made.  He looked down at his shirt and began to laugh.  "It's just a little paint, boo," he said.

Now, what was the point of my rambling of childhood memories? Well, for one, I had the best childhood, and I love to remember it. Secondly, I had and still have the best father ever and everyone should know it. Lastly, this memory has matured into my personal analogy for Christ over the years.

You see, when hardship falls on us, we only have to run to Christ, our father, and He will sit us in His lap.  He will wipe away our tears and listen to our troubles, no matter how big or small, as if they were the most important thing in the world. When we have been comforted, He will look down at His white robe and see the stains of the sins that we have left in His lap.  Then, He will look up at us and laugh and say "It's just a little paint."

Ask and You Shall Receive

Today, I finished the book, The Prayer of Jabez. This book is all about the prayer of Jabez who wholeheartedly sought God's blessings, even begged Him to be blessed. However, it is also about asking to be blessed so that you can bless others.

Once I finished the book, I decided to go to Barnes and Noble to feed this insatiable hunger- I had to read more about Christ.  As an English teacher, Barnes and Noble is my safe haven. If you're ever in a hurry to get somewhere, don't bring me within a five mile radius of one.

As I strolled the Christian inspiration section of the bookstore, I overheard an elderly woman asking one of the bookstore employees where she could find a certain book. They looked everywhere and couldn't find it. The woman was dismayed that she would have to order the book and wait for it to come in. As I overheard (my euphemism for 'eavesdropped'), it dawned on me that I knew exactly where that book was because I had held it in my hand just a few minutes before. Disappointed, the woman began to walk to the customer service counter with the sales associate.  I walked over the bookshelf where I had just seen the book and grabbed it. I chased after the woman and handed her the book.  A look of surprise and confusion crossed her face.  She thanked me and I walked back to the bookshelf I had been browsing.  As she was walking away, she looked at the sales associate and said "Who was that young lady and how did she know where this book was? Did I even thank her? She was such a great help to me." I smiled to myself and hid behind the bookshelf as she walked away.

Fifteen minutes later, I was feeling pretty good about my trip to Barnes and Noble and grateful for having prayed the prayer of Jabez that morning. However, God wasn't done with me.  I was looking through the journals section of the store when I heard someone to my right say something.  I looked up from my book-euphoria coma to see a man standing beside me, intently staring at me. "Excuse me, did you say something?" I asked. He repeated his question, "What book are you getting?" I picked up my book to show him the cover, The Ragamuffin Gospel. At this point, a young man approached us and asked the man, I learned his name was Tommy, to leave "the young lady alone." I realized that Tommy was mentally handicapped.  I quickly assured his guardian that it was fine and Tommy and I carried on our conversation for some time. I learned that he was from Pittsburgh and loved UNC Chapel Hill (I decided to forgive him for that).  He was in town for the long weekend and wanted to come to Barnes and Noble because he liked to read "books about places." When his guardian told him they had to go, I extended my hand to shake his, but he pulled me in for a big bear hug and then walked away. I looked back to see that he was looking at me, smiling.

Maybe it was just coincidence that I met these two strangers today. Maybe I remembered where the book was because it was written by a famous theologian. Maybe Tommy wanted to talk to me because he likes talking to stranger. I'll never know. However, I'd like to think that it was the prayer of Jabez at work.

'Tis the Season

Tonight I went to a community Christmas event. My church set up a table where we gave away free coffee and hot chocolate.  We did this to spread the word and show Christ's love. Our table was swamped- not because  people were eager to hear the word, but because we had free stuff.

I grew aggravated as I tried to tell people about our church and all they wanted to know was where the creamer was. People complained that the cocoa tasted like water. Then when the cocoa ran out, they complained that we only had coffee.  When I invited them to come worship with us, many gave me this strange, pondering look or avoided eye contact altogether like I was making them uncomfortable.

When I got home tonight, I was discouraged to say the least. Then it hit me, if I'm discouraged when I give away free coffee, how heartbroken must Christ be? He gave his life to save us from our sins. I gave away coffee. If people can ignore His selfless, powerful and infinite gift, why shouldn't they ignore my small and temporary one?

My coffee was free, but so is Christ's love. If we had to earn it, no one would be able to pay the price. That is why God sent his son: to pay it for us.

So, despite my discouragement at the lack of "thanks" I received, I find peace. This peace comes from the knowledge that Christ will continue to give whether or not we show our gratitude. I know I don't say it enough, but thanks God for the gift that keeps giving: forgiveness.

And they lived happily ever after...

Yeah, life doesn't always end that way: Prince Charmings are few and far between; the damsel in distress packed her bags and moved to a condo to save on rent; if you kiss a frog, you just get slimy lips; but don't worry, there are plenty of villains out there!

As an English teacher, I obviously have a fondness for reading.  When I was about seven or eight, my father bought me a copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales.  We were in an airport, seeing my sister off and I insisted that he got me the overpriced airport memorabilia. He didn't mind. What parent doesn't want to indulge a child who loves to read?

As a child, my dad read to me regularly at night.  He would tuck me in. I would scoot over in the bed and make room for the giant of a man.  He'd turn on my carousel horse lamp and open the crisp pages of the newest adventure. I would sit in rapture as he read stories aloud to me. Then he'd kiss me good night, turn off the lamp, linger in the doorway and wait until I would doze off to dream of dragons and princesses. Those childhood bedtime stories are one of the main reasons I decided to become an English teacher.

Now, the pattern in all of these fairy tales was that they almost always ended happily ever after. As a child, you believe everything you hear. So, I enthusiastically embraced the idea of happy endings. As an adult, I have lost that blind and unbending childhood faith. Many times, I wish I still had it. Perhaps, that is what God meant when he said "unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven."

As adults, we face hardships and heartbreaks and we stop believing in happy endings. But why should we? There is a happy ending for all of us, and it is an eternity in Heaven with the Lord our Father.

So, tonight as you go to sleep, imagine that your Father is tucking you into bed and telling you that life always ends happily ever after. Because for those who believe, there is always a happy ending.

Why Are You Trying to Earn Grace?

Every morning on my way to work, I have what I like to call a "Jesus Jam Session." Basically, I crank up the Christian music and sing my tone-deaf heart out. So, if you see me driving down I-440 at about 7:15 in the morning waving my arms and screaming like a maniac, don't worry, I'm worshiping.

Now, I have my "Jesus Jam Session" for several reasons:
-Firstly, I am not a morning person and my daily cup of redneck coffee (a can of Dt. Mtn. Dew) simply isn't enough to wake me up.
-Secondly, as a high school teacher, a lot of days I have to give myself a motivational speech of types before heading into the trenches of raging hormones and unstable emotions.
-Lastly, this jam session each morning gives me a few minutes of peace to reflect on my joys and concerns before I begin my day.

The reason I am telling you this is because this morning during my jam session, I was listening to a song that spoke to me.  It is called, "By Your Side" by Tenth Avenue North. The whole song is amazing and definitely worth a Youtube search. However, there was one line that resonated with me and it simply says, "why are you trying to earn grace?"

This is one of those questions that we should all ask ourselves. Why are we trying to work for something that we could never possibly be able to earn? If we were admitted to Heaven or forgiven for our sins based on who did and did not deserve God's immeasurable grace, then we would all be out of luck.

So, guess what? I don't deserve the love of Christ and neither do you! Sounds harsh right? It's actually just the opposite.  We should all be blown away by the fact that God is willing to give us such a priceless gift and we have to do absolutely nothing for it! Now does that mean we have the green light to run around all Girls Gone Wild just because we know that at the end of the day God will still love and forgive us? Absolutely not! The only way we can really reap the rewards of God's forgiveness is if we repent; the only way we can repent is if we are sincerely sorry for the sin we have committed; if you are sincerely sorry then you ask for forgiveness with the intent of not committing that sin again...do you see where I'm going with this?


So today, ask yourself: why are you trying to earn grace? You can't and you will never be able to. That's the beauty of following Christ: He gives us things we don't deserve because He loves us. So, don't pout because you aren't good enough or cry out in frustration because you can never do enough.  All God asks is that we give Him all that we are, imperfect sinners, and He, in return, will give us all that He has, eternal life and unconditional love.  That sounds like a pretty sweet deal to me!

If Patience is a Virtue, I am not very Virtuous...

"Patience is a virtue." Ah, those sage words of wisdom that reveal the meaning of life. To say I am being facetious here would be an understatement.  I probably hate that phrase more than anything in the world.  It is a saying that parents tell whiny children when they want their dessert before their broccoli and not after. It is a saying that boyfriends tell their persistent girlfriends who have booked the church before they've even gotten a ring. It is a saying that I, as a teacher, tell my students daily when they badger me for graded tests a day after they have taken them.  It is a saying that I often mumble begrudgingly to myself when things aren't happening as quickly as I would like them to.

God gave me a lot of things, but patience is not one of them. And if the possession of patience classifies you as a virtuous person, consider me a heathen. I was that little kid who stood beside you and repeatedly poked your shoulder while you were having a conversation with someone else until your arm was so sore that you stopped mid-sentence to scream "WHAT IS IT, MAGGIE?!"

My impatience has really been an issue in my relationship with Christ. You see, God doesn't really respond well to temper tantrums (trust me, I've tried).  I can pout, stamp my feet and even give Him the silent treatment, and He ain't budging.  God gives answers in His own timing and not according to my personal agenda.  Sometimes God doesn't give answers at all.

The closer I grow to Christ, the more He seems to press the point of patience on my heart.  I heard once to never pray for patience, because the second you do, God will give you something to test your patience.  Well, God, bring it! Here I am, praying for patience. I am praying for patience with You, with friends and family and especially for patience with myself. I am praying for the patience to accept that just because things don't happen when I want them to, does not mean they aren't happening right on time.

I pray that I will stop looking at my watch and start looking up. It's all on Your time Lord, not mine.