There is no hope for the American Christian if they cannot speak up for Gaza.

(Forward Note: I wrote most of this in my notes app on my phone about a month ago to vent my feelings about the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Sadly, it is still as relevant now as it was then. I spend my free time holding space for the stories of those lost to these horrors. I embroider stitches on a bag. One stitch for 10 Palestinian lives confirmed lost. There are so many stitches to go, and the number climbs every day. The denial of this genocide gets worse and worse, and the atrocities more and more horrific in ways I could have never imagined. I like posts on Instagram of protests in Tokyo I am too far away to attend. I sign petitions. I feel like it's not enough, but there is little else I can do. I've run out of tears to cry. But I hope I never run out of righteous anger.)

There is no room for “both side”-ism in this genocide. There is no more time for “it’s complicated” or “Israel has a right to defend itself”. There is no more place or grace for Christians who cannot condemn the horrors before their own eyes. That ended years and years and years ago with the first Nakba if we’re being frank. But if those atrocities were somehow not enough, it certainly ended the moment innocent men, women, children, civilians, were bombed while sleeping in their beds. 

It ended when a group of people were sealed inside by a military so many times stronger than them in a surveillance state, an open air prison, with nowhere to go. For where could they go? There is nowhere safe in Gaza. 

It ended when the border’s only exit was capped at an unreasonable price, in some form of capitalistic hellscape where one can’t be a refugee or seek asylum even if they wanted to, unless their pockets are bottomless or a person in the Western world takes pity on them and sends them funds.

There is no justification for the horrors we have seen. For the babies beheaded and charred in Raffah, or dying in incubators in a failing hospital system, or hanging over a bombed wall, their tiny bodies dangling in pieces and almost unrecognizable, or left to die next to their family members in a car while they call for help.

There is no justification for women weeping over the bodies of their loved ones, losing all of their family members in an instant to a bomb strike, for mothers now childless and forced to carry their baby's cold bodies away from their ruined lives, for women giving birth with no healthcare, or unable to feed their starving families.

There is no justification for men slaughtered on their way to get flour and food to feed their families, for men run over by tanks in the street until they are an unrecognizable bloody pulp in the ground, for men who are rounded up like cattle, stripped, and killed with their hands tied behind their backs, their corpses thrown into a grave and left to rot, desecrated and disrespected even in death. For men carrying their own children’s limbs in plastic bags, or writing of their joy of reuniting all of their loved one's body parts in death for a full burial. For men released from the "custody" of Israel's army, with eyes so haunted and minds so torn you can practically witness their torment simply by looking into their eyes.

There is no justification for the destruction of infrastructure. For the bombing of houses, stores, hospitals, schools, universities, roads, and water infrastructure. For the withholding of aid, and the use of an aid pier to break international law and cause even more death and destruction. 

There is no justification for the erasure of Palestinian culture, the vilification of a traditional handicraft like the Keffiyeh, or of simple words like “Intifada” (revolution), or the destruction of ancient mosques and churches as old as Jesus himself, for the burning of ancient olive trees, the bulldozing of farms and homes, the selling of Palestinian land in American Synagogues.

There is no justification for the cruelty spewed by Israelis live on television, or on social media, where everyone can see. Calls to burn every Palestine child, calls to consider each Palestinian a terrorist or a future one, calls to steal or destroy all Palestinian land until only Israel remains, yelling racial slurs and calling for the death of all Arabs. Actions so vile they cannot be unseen. Soldiers desecrating Palestinian homes, filming adult content on the ruins of people's lives, on their graves, stealing women’s underwear from their bombed homes. For illegal settlers celebrating over the bombed ruins of Gaza and planning new Suburbs in the ashes, or Israelis blocking aid trucks and brutally beating truck drivers.

And beside all of this runs a current, strong and true. The American Christian is complacent, if not participating in, this cruelty. The American Christian has abandoned the least of these, abandoned the Palestinian Christians, abandoned those who need us most.

There is no hope for the American Christian who cannot stand up for the least of these. Who when they saw him hungry and naked and calling for help, walked by like the righteous leaders walking past the man lying beaten and left for dead on the road. Who pretended there was no genocide, or that it is somehow an appropriate response for any of these atrocities to happen to those who are not living within the state of Israel.

Now is the time for righteous anger, for flipping tables, for laments and screams for immediate and radical change.

But even then, I wonder, will it be enough? Our hands are so bloody, our souls so corrupt and devoid of compassion, love, and righteousness. Can we ever make amends for such depravity? For such cruelty? I am not sure we can.

I will never be able to unsee what I have seen. The dead and dying, their screams, their cries. They haunt me behind my eyelids when I sleep. They echo in my mind when I wake. As I eat, I think of the Palestinian who cannot due to forced famine and withheld aid. As I walk down the street, I think of the Palestinian who cannot walk without fear of being bombed or gunned down simply for existing in their own home. As I fear for my own mental health and growing PTSD from the atrocities I witness on my phone, I think of the Palestinian who may never survive long enough to even begin to think about breathing in peace again. And even if they do survive, what will be left? A desecrated land where all is scorched earth and trauma? Forced displacement to countries that stood by idly while their people suffered and bled and lost everything? Or worse, who funded that suffering and provided the tools of their demise?

I should have never seen these things, but I have. Palestinians should have never had to video tape their trauma live for the world to see, but they have. And it has been met with indifference and sometimes even disbelief.

This is no war. No conflict. It is long past time to scream it with our lungs. Free Palestine. Condemn genocide. Condemn apartheid. Condemn it everywhere too. Not just Palestine, but Congo, and Sudan, and the Uyghurs in China, and anywhere and everywhere. None of us are free until all of us are free. You have no excuse to remain silent.

For God loves the Palestinian too. Go loved the least of these, the downtrodden, the last who shall be made first. And the Lord will remember what we have done to the least of these. Or rather, what we have not done in our sins of omission.

I used to wonder what if would have been like to be alive during the Holocaust. I don’t wonder that anymore. And I don’t know what else I can say than that.

Ceasefire now.

How Do You See God?

Recently I had a talk with a friend and the conversation somehow strayed to our perceptions of God, and what that says about our relationship with him. She mentioned a question that another mutual friend of ours had asked her, one that had got her thinking. The question was, "How old is your Jesus?" My friend used this as a starting point to examine how she sees Jesus and the Trinity. For her, she could separate Jesus and the other parts of a trinity to an age that served as a metaphor for how she saw the Lord. 

I found this concept interesting, but when she asked me to answer, I couldn't. However, after I had thought about it, although I couldn't pinpoint it to an age, I could find things that described how I feel about the Trinity, and I wanted to share that with you.

Maybe this will get you thinking about where you are in your relationship with God the Father, Jesus, and his Holy Spirit. And maybe, you will be inspired by my walk and my authenticity. Either way, I hope you can find something here that speaks to you:

The Father

When I think of God the Father, I think of a majestic historical cathedral. One where you walk inside, and immediately you are awestruck by the vastness of the space, the beauty of the artwork and stained glass inside, and the mystery of what all might have taken place there. Yet for all its awe-inspiring mystery, it is still a real place, you can see it and interact with it, but it is also so much bigger than you, and somewhat intimidating, and you’re afraid to interact with it sometimes. I see God the father that way. Vast, awe-inspiring, striking holy fear into me, but also something that I can see and comprehend in its own way.

The Son

When I think of Jesus, I feel like he is my long-distance boyfriend (as cheesy as that sounds). Like, this boyfriend and I were close. We used to spend all this time together, and we knew a lot about each other, but now he’s distant and it feels like there’s nothing I can do about it. And although I am trying to keep connected with him, and we still talk sometimes, it’s just not the same as it once was, and everything feels different now. And I also kind of feel like he’s ignoring my problems in favor of interacting with other people instead. Like, I see him interacting with other people from afar and I’m happy he’s helping other people, but I feel like he’s ignoring me (if we continue with this allegory, it’s like I’m watching his social media page, seeing his updates about hanging out with other people, and I’m not jealous, but I do feel slightly upset that I don’t get that same closeness with him as others do).

The Holy Spirit

When I think of the Holy Spirit, I think of the sea. At surface level (no pun intended) I know what the sea is. I’ve been there, I’ve seen it, I’ve interacted with it. However, I know nothing about the intricacies of underneath the sea, and it is still a great mystery to me. I also don’t interact with the sea often. I know it’s there, but I often forget about it. The Holy Spirit is the same way to me. I feel him at work in my life sometimes, I know logically what he is and what he does, but I often forget about him. It’s something I need to work on being more conscious of, I think.

So how about you? How old is your Jesus? What metaphor best describes where you are at with the Lord at this moment? I'd love to hear your answers, and learn more about your hearts. Blessings my friends!

Authenticity

I have a yearning for authenticity in every aspect of my life. I yearn for it in friendships, for real connections about what really matters and not small talk and surface level conversations. I yearn for it in my work, in wanting to teach what really matters to my students and not what is simply expected. But lately, this yearning seems to manifest itself most deeply in my walk with Christ.

To me, authenticity in my faith means I only want what is authentically right and true and God's will. If it isn't God's will, I don't want it to be my desire. If he didn't say it or condone it, then I have no need for it.

Of course, I'm not perfect, so I don't always enact this. And I'm also fallible, so what I think is right isn't always, and I am always learning and changing and growing. Yet, I find as a grow closer and closer to God, that this yearning for his complete and perfect will only grows.

I think it all started when I decided to read the entire Bible. A task I had never thought to accomplish, but one that helped me to solidify my theology and peel away layers of incorrect assumptions I had long kept. I was left at the end with a firmer grasp on my faith, to be certain, but also with a deep desire to learn more about what was still unclear to me.

Now, I am in a place where I am picking apart everything. Cultural beliefs about God, things I've learned from trusted teachers and friends, denominational differences, all of it is coming under the lens of scrutiny. More often than not, I find nothing wrong with the things I believed to be the truth, but sometimes I find scripture that contradicts something I didn't expect, and I have to reform my beliefs to match that of my Lord. It's a long process, and one that I know will take my whole life to complete, but it's worth it to know that I will come out of this looking more like Jesus.

Unfortunately, I don't see many people around me with the same desires, and it can be disheartening. I have so many dear friends and family members whom I love, and whom I know do love Jesus, but whom just aren't willing or maybe ready to take the next step in their faith. I also see so many people who had strong walks with Christ abandoning their beliefs to accept a worldly version of Jesus, diluting him down to something that fits their narrative, their needs, their wants. And that breaks my heart more than anything.

It's one thing to have denominational differences or rib issues (versus spine issues as my mother always says) or to be simply immature in your faith and waiting for God to move. It's another to craft an image of God that is contrary to his word, simply because it suits you.

To me, I have come to a place where if God's word doesn't say it explicitly, or if it doesn't fall in line with the whole of scripture, I don't want it. Even if it seems harmless, even if it isn't considered "bad". If it is not of God, I don't want it.

I pray that for others, this becomes your heart's cry too. Learn, read, find out more about what the Lord says, learn about your church's traditions, learn about the history of the church, learn about your family, examine why you know what you know and who told it to you. And back all of this with scripture. Chances are, you'll be surprised at what things you find. You probably won't come out the same.

Recently, a friend shared a song with me. It's definitely not my jam on a musical standpoint, but the lyrics hold a deep truth that I think is so important. "I don’t want it if You’re not in it. I just want You, God."

Lord, let the cry of our hearts be for you. Let us desire what you desire only, let us know you for who you are, not who we want you to be. Let us tear away all of the things of this world, no matter how precious they are to us, and leave us only with what we know is of you. You are the only thing that matters, you are the reason for being. In the name of your precious son Jesus, Amen.

This Season of Worship

A dear friend of mine, at the blog Midwest Shooting Star, recently shared a short playlist of worship music that has been inspiring her in this season of her life. I was equally inspired by the songs she chose, as I was with the idea. So I've decided to make my own little version to share with you a bit of my heart.

I find that these songs speak best for themselves, without me giving them an introduction, so I'm simply linking them here and providing you with some of my favorite lyrics from each song. I hope they are as encouraging to you as they have been to me in this season of worship.

• It Is Well (Portrait Remix) by David Dunn: I'm not in control / But it is well with my soul
• Altar feat. Joel Davis by Emilie Weiss: So I'm hanging on to your every word / Like a melody that no one else has heard
• Relentless (Live/Acoustic Version) by Hillsong United: The time is up for chasing shadows / You gave the world a light to follow
• Wounded Healer by Audrey Assad: Blood poured out not for war, but peace / And to show us God's own face
• Hold Me Together by Loud Harp: When my heart is giving out / You hold me together
• Deliverance by Strahan: Your love is a flood / and I drink deep when the tide is up
• Wide Place by Laity: Lord, You call my perfection to peace / Jesus, You are redefining free
• Heroes by Amanda Cook: You taught my feet to dance upon disappointment / And I, I will worship
• Cathedrals by John Lucas: I have the dust on my boots of a thousand cathedrals / And I have taken my place with bended knees 
• Future/Past by John Mark McMillan: All treasures of wisdom and things to be known / Are hidden inside your hand / And in this fortunate turn of events / You ask me to be your friend
• P E A C E by Hillsong Young & Free (Amanda Cook Cover): All anxiety bows in the presence of Jesus the keeper of peace / And peace is a promise He keeps
• Be by Fresh Life Worship: Be my joy first in my heart / All I want for all my days
• Captain by Hillsong United: Jesus, my Captain / My soul's trusted Lord / All my allegiance is rightfully Yours
• Immanuel's Land by Audrey Assad: I will not gaze at glory but on my King of grace
• Holy Ghost by Jessie Early: If you can raise Lazarus up from the dead / Surely you can raise up the cynical graves in my head
• Grace Alone by King's Kaleidoscope (Joseph Solomon Cover): You have raised me so high above my station / I’m a child of God by grace and grace alone
• Do It Again by Elevation Worship: I'm still in Your hands / This is my confidence, You've never failed me yet
• Breathe by SEU Worship: I thought You were a part of me / Now I know You were the whole thing
• Heaven's King by Emilie Weiss: And unto death, he reconciled / This stony heart to God the king 
• Ninevah by Danny O'Callaghan: Through the fears and the storms out in front of me / I will dive in the deep my Lord
• Psalm 34 (Taste and See) by Shane and Shane: Magnify the Lord with me / Come exalt His name together
• Nearness by Bethel: My heart will stay steadfast / I know that You are good

Waiting (Contemplative Piece/Poem)

"Why aren't you on the street corner?" I sigh, as I berate God for not being where I want him to be. "I've been begging for a sign, but I don't hear anything." I say, and my irate ranting covers the sound of his whispers in my ear.

"Why don't you come to me in a pillar of fire?" I say. "You did it for her, so why am I always left out?" I close my eyes in disgust, and miss the small message coming my way in the form of a paper airplane on a gust of wind.

"Where's my miraculous healing?" I scream, as I further twist my own arm behind my back. "You healed him when he asked, so am I just not important to you?" I say, as I turn my back right before you come to me with a band-aid held in your outstretched hand.

"Why wasn't I listening?" I whisper, when I finally have dropped my facades enough to notice your permanent presence in my bedroom, right there in the corner where I'd stuffed you. "It's okay." You respond, as you hand me a handwritten letter with the answers to all of my questions and doubts. "I was just waiting for permission to hold your hand." You say, as you hold me while I cry, and you paste me back together.

Matthew 5:41 (Original Poem)

i have been carrying my master's armor for many a mile,
just as i was instructed to
all my life
"fight the good fight"
"rewards are just around the corner"
"he sees your sacrifice and he will honor it"
they say
but my body grows weary from the exhurtion

of course, my master is not cruel
he rewards me for my service
whether it is a softly whispered "good job"
or a short day of rest
but i am weary all the same

"lord" i ask
"when will i feel restored?
where is the end of the journey
or even a respite for my aching soul?"

i turn to him expecting answers
but he just smiles
the smile that makes everyone follow his every wish
and answers not my current question
but the question i had asked 5 miles ago

as he waxes lyric about things i had previously asked to hear
i re-adjust the armor in my arms
and focus on walking just one more step

if i can make it to the next mile marker
i might get an answer then

The Wedding Dress (Original Poem)

(Another poem. Not much to say about this, just thought I'd post it here.)

my wedding dress is beautiful
it was tailor made
to fit my frame
by my bridegroom

my wedding dress is beautiful
even with the few spots
that have stained the hem
my bridegroom says he never notices them anyways

my wedding dress is beautiful
from where it hangs
on my door
because i don't want to wear it

"it's too tight"
and
"i've already dirtied it"
or
"it makes me stand out"
i tell my bridegroom
whenever i have spare time
between work
school
and sitting in my old rags in the mud

my wedding dress is beautiful
but i hardly ever wear it
because i'd rather wear my old rags
even if they're falling off my shoulders
and see-through in places
and too short for me now
because i outgrew them long ago

but at least they're comfortable
and require no change

and if i have to i'll cover my ears
with my hands
to block out my bridegroom
as he shouts my name
and knocks on my door
hoping that one day
i'll get up
open the door
and put on my wedding dress again

until then
the dress of blessings hangs
and i
i deteriorate
in the filth of my own making

The Epiphany: Matthew 18: 15-17

I'm doing one of those "read the bible in a year" plans on youversion (great app by the way), and I'm currently reading the book of Matthew. I came across the verse about sin in the church. You know the one. The verse that churches have used to shun perceived sinners in the church, and to kick them out of their lives, effectively ruining Jesus for them forever?

I'd read this verse before, as I'm sure you probably have as well, and it always struck me as odd. Why would God tell us to shun people who sin? It sounds so unlike him. But this time, as I read, I realized something. Something that had been staring me in the face this whole time.

Here is the whole section of scripture. Take a moment and read it, just to refresh your memory. 

“If your brother sins against you, go to him and show him his fault. But do it privately, just between yourselves. If he listens to you, you have won your brother back. But if he will not listen to you, take one or two other persons with you, so that ‘every accusation may be upheld by the testimony of two or more witnesses,’ as the scripture says. And if he will not listen to them, then tell the whole thing to the church. Finally, if he will not listen to the church, treat him as though he were a pagan or a tax collector." -Matthew 18:15-17

Now, let's take a look at that last verse, the one that causes the most trouble. "Finally, if he will not listen to the church, treat him as though he were a pagan or a tax collector." Notice the specific people there, and think to yourself about them. How were they treated by Jesus?

Well, here is your answer for the tax collectors:

• He ate with them, which was considered a very intimate thing at this time, and he had conversations with them. ("Then it happened that as Jesus was reclining at the table in the house, behold, many tax collectors and sinners came and were dining with Jesus and His disciples." - Matthew 9:10)

• He called them to be his disciples, even while they were still working in a job that was considered to be horrible in that time.  ("As Jesus went on from there, He saw a man called Matthew, sitting in the tax collector's booth; and He said to him, "Follow Me!" And he got up and followed Him." -Matthew 9:9)

• He also took time out of ministering the masses to love them specifically (see the story of Zacchaeus). 

In short, he loved them, and treated them like people, and with respect. He may not have supported their actions at all times, but he did love them the same as those who were his disciples. 

Well, how about the Pagans?

• He healed their family members, and commended their faith in him. (See the story of Jesus healing the soldier.)

• He calls us to go and minister to them (which would include loving them, and talking to them often). ("Go, then, to all peoples everywhere and make them my disciples: baptize them in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit," -Matthew 28:19)

And all throughout the rest of the New Testament, we see the disciples go on to seek out pagans specifically, and to love them and minister to them.

All of this contradicts the view of shunning a "non-believer" or "sinner" within the church. As you can probably now tell, this verse is actually calling for something completely different. It does call for a somewhat different treatment of the offending person than they had before, you obviously treat, and talk with, a non-believer differently than you do someone who has been a Christian for years, but it does not call for a shunning, or a shaming, or anything else of that sort. It calls instead for you love them, and love them fiercely, with the love of Christ Jesus. Because what better way is there to treat someone, and show them the face of god, than to love them just like Jesus loves them; unconditionally.

So that's the little epiphany I had when reading this passage, and I hope that it encouraged you and made you re-examine this scripture. It certainly impacted me.

Blessings,
Kathryn

Not of the world, but sent into it.

There is this quote I want to share, which is my mantra of sorts right now. 

You see, it's been on my heart a lot lately that I need to learn to love well, to make people feel like they matter and are loved by God, but still stand my ground when it matters most. It's something I tend to struggle with, as most of the time I either just want to tell others my beliefs and not love them like Jesus, or I want to just ignore the confrontation and hide in my bed and pretend that I'm okay with everything that's happening. But not everything happening nowadays is okay, and many people look at Christianity in ways that are contrary to what is written in God's word. It's not alright for me to just stand by idly, and say "yeah, this is alright" when it isn't. 

While it is important, extremely important, to share the love of God with others, and to love them as they deserve to be loved, it is still important to stand up for your faith and what you believe in. Of course, it is just as important that you do so in love, but that's for another post another day. But the fact remains that it's not okay to stand by and let others lead themselves into ruin and temptation just because you don't want to be uncomfortable, or because you're afraid. In fact, it's so not okay, that Jesus says "but whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to have a great millstone fastened around his neck and to be drowned in the depth of the sea." (Matthew 18:6) Pretty serious, right? Kind of makes you realize that just being passive isn't quite what God intended.

So this quote really struck me. It kind of addresses everything I've been thinking, but haven't quite been able to put into words. It's from Paul Washer, and he says: 

"Most of our Christianity is based on cliches that we read on the back of Christian t-shirts. Most our Christianity comes from songwriters and not the bible. Most of what we believe is dictated to us through culture and not by the bible. The bible never teaches that a person can be a genuine Christian and live in continuous carnality and wickedness and sin all the days of their life. But the bible teaches that the genuine Christian has been given a new nature. The genuine Christian has a father who love them and disciplines them and watches over them and cares for them." 

I've always felt that cultural Christianity is pointless, because if you live just like everyone else, why believe in Jesus in the first place? What good is Jesus to you, if you don't follow anything he says? I always come back to that 

C. S. Lewis quote that talks about Jesus being either a liar, Lord, or a lunatic. We either have to accept everything that he teaches as truth, whether we like it or not, or we have to conclude that Jesus isn't worth our time. There is no middle ground, no "I like this verse about Jesus loving me, but I'll ignore those verses about not gossiping because I like to do that."

Basically, the world needs Jesus. We all know that. But if we as Christians look nothing like him, then how will the world know us? How will they see that the joy and peace and every gift he gives to us is real when we look just like they do? When we do the same things they do, speak the same way they speak, and act the same way they act? Our faith needs to be based on God's word. Our salvation, and salvation of others depends upon it. To me, that's worth ruffling some feathers, if we can bring them closer to God.

Again, don't get me wrong, if your first reaction to this is to say "Good. Now I can go and lecture so-and-so on their sins and what they're doing wrong!" then you are doing it wrong. This should make you think "I really need to work on learning more about God, and what his word says is the right thing to do, so that I can be a living example to others and maybe when they ask me questions or tell me something I don't agree with I can respond in the way that God intended me to." Work on the plank in your eye first, and all that. 

But yeah, this is just something that's been stirring in my heart recently. I think that we're about to see a big split in Christianity as we know it. The cultural acceptance of Christianity, and it's acceptance as the general moral compass, are changing. Christianity is no longer the culturally accepted thing to do. And with this shift in acceptance, people will go one of three ways. They will either stick with Jesus and experience personal spiritual growth, all the while beginning to look less and less like the world and more and more like Jesus. Or, people will create a shallow version of Christianity, with all of the socializing bits, like services and worship and meeting together, but lose all of the depth that Christ calls us to, all while becoming more and more like the world with the only difference being they read a bible once or twice a month and attend a few services here and there. Or, people will just abandon and scorn Christianity for being shallow, and full of hypocrites. 

All of these things I already see happening everyday, but I think it's about to get a whole lot more common to see a politically correct Christian, or someone completely against the church, than it will be to see your average "I just really love Jesus and want to be more like him" sort of Christian. So to me, it is more imparative than ever to take this time to look not to what society is saying, but to what God has already said. We need to be a bonfire in the darkness if we want to show the love of Christ, not a flickering flashlight. And the only way to do that, is to spend more and more time becoming like Christ, and less and less time worrying about what the political state of our country is like, or what society is saying is right and wrong, or what others are whispering about us behind our backs. What's most important is to love God, and to follow after his commands, more and more. And through that, and only through that, will we truly know how to love others the way that God intended.

(Title is inspired by this post from desiringGod.)

"I rest on his goodness, in my doubt and in my fear."

One of the things that is laying heavy on my heart right now is fear.

The world seems to be soaked in fear right now, and I can't quite understand it. I can't even begin to comprehend why those who have faith in him are even a bit fearful. Fear isn't of the Lord, that much I know, and although I struggle with fear sometimes, I've never lost sight of the long term view that God is still in control. He promises over and over again to protect his people, if only they would follow his commandments. And yet people still fear.

I think that people, especially in America, are used to comfort. We talk about it in our churches of course, and we say things about how we don't truly understand what it means to 'take up our cross' as we face no real trials because of it. But I don't think we really and truly get it.

You see, God called us, as Christians, to a life of trials. He called us to persecution, and ridicule, and pain. He calls us to give up everything we own, and to follow him wherever he leads. He calls us to everything that is the exact opposite of comfort. But he rewards us with the greatest gift of all: his love and an eternity with him.

So why? Why are we so afraid? Why do we concern ourselves with politics, with social issues, with everything other than God? We let it become our focus, our main issue, and we begin to let it control us. We begin to fear it, or it's outcome, and we live out our lives around it. We begin to avoid saying things, to avoid doing things, just because of this fear. In reality, we shouldn't be concerning ourselves with these things. The issues themselves are only stemming from an even bigger problem.

We think that the point of being a Christian is making it to heaven. We focus on the end goal, the idea of eternal happiness. But as a friend once said to me "God's goal for us isn't heaven. His goal for us is a relationship with him."

Whatever happens in the middle, good or bad, it doesn't matter. Our job, as Christians, is one thing. And one thing alone. Everything else is secondary to this.

"Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” (Matthew 28:19-20)

That's it. No other commands tacked on. Just go, and teach them about my love for them. He's going to take care of the rest. We just need to do everything in our power to share his love with others.

There's a passage, in Habakkuk 3:17-19, that I think sums this up pretty well.

"Even though the fig trees have no fruit
and no grapes grow on the vines,
even though the olive crop fails
and the fields produce no grain,
even though the sheep all die
and the cattle stalls are empty,
I will still be joyful and glad,
because the Lord God is my savior.
The Sovereign Lord gives me strength.
He makes me sure-footed as a deer
and keeps me safe on the mountains."

Things are going to go wrong, but, even though they go wrong, we can be joyful and glad in him.

He's got us covered.

A Practical Step: Desiring God

Recently, I've been struggling with a lack of something in myself. To be more specific, a lack of desire for God. Now, I can't exactly pinpoint the exact moment when this lack of desire first became apparent to me, but I do know that it's been a major stumbling block in my life for a while now.

You may or may not know, depending on how well you know me, that I often play on my church's worship team. Last week I was on rotation, and we played a song called "Come to the Water" by Kristian Stanfill. The lyrics are pretty standard as far as a praise and worship songs go. But this particular week one line stood out to me from the chorus.

"We believe in the kingdom come
We believe in the risen Son
You bring our hearts to life
Lord we come with our hands up high
We believe You will satisfy
You bring our hearts to life
You bring our hearts to life
We are alive"

"We believe you will satisfy". That's a pretty big statement to make, isn't it? I know in my own life I've often looked at things that I enjoy that I know weren't the best for me, or things that were taking his place in my heart, and I've wondered how God could ever satisfy as much as the things I was holding onto. We hear all the time that God is greater than all of our selfish desires, but I think deep down inside all of us we doubt that it could ever be true. And sometimes, maybe we don't want it to be true.

For me, when this happens, I tend to shy away from God. When I notice that I've not given him the 100% he asks for, or that I don't feel fully satisfied in him, I feel guilty. And I often feel in those times that I shouldn't be praying to him, or learning about him, or really having anything to do with him. Because if I was a "real" Christian I would be totally satisfied in him, right? And because of this tendency, in the times when I need to be drawing closer to God I pull farther away.

Now if you look at this line of the song, "We believe you'll satisfy", you should notice a very specific word. That word is believe. Note that they didn't say "We know he will satisfy" or "He does satisfy" or "He has already satisfied". No they say "We believe he will satisfy". Why, you might ask, is this significant? Because with this one word we create a very deep and meaningful truth that I think many of us don't realize. That truth is this; Just because you don't see the results you're looking for now, doesn't mean that God isn't working in you.

Let me repeat that; Just because you don't see the results you're looking for now, doesn't mean that God isn't working in you.

When I realized this, it was huge for me. You see, I was shying away from interaction with God because I didn't see him working right away. I would say my quick prayer for him to satisfy me in him, and then I wouldn't give him the time to work in my life and make it so. What I needed to be doing was asking him to satisfy, and then drawing close to him believing it would be so.

God may not immediately satisfy you in him, he hasn't yet for me, but he's always working on your heart as I know he is working on mine. It may take years of softening before you begin to feel satisfied in him. And there will always be times when you struggle and feel like God will never be enough. But you should never pull away from God, even when you feel inadequate. God always wants to have a relationship with you, and although he wants your all, that doesn't mean he stops listening when you don't give it. And the moment you pull away, you give footholds to negative things in your life. Because as soon as you stop feeding yourself with God's truth, you create gaps that can be filled by anyone who comes along with a bit of something to fill them with.

So maybe this week, when you feel discouraged and unsatisfied in God, you can take a step out in faith with me and draw nearer to God believing he will satisfy. And maybe together, we can find out what it's like to be truly satisfied in him.

Blessings,
Kathryn