pause.

I love Christmas. I really do. But if you’re anything like me, you’ve realized recently that this season is completely blowing past you and you are so busy, you can barely keep your head on straight.

It’s a shame, because there’s a message that we would all benefit to pause and remember, even if you know the story of Jesus’ birth like the back of your hand. Just take a look at the hymn below…I realized recently how poignant these words are for where we are today. I invite you to pause for a moment, reflect on the lyrics, and just rest in the peace of God – if only for a moment. Blessings to you…

"It came upon the midnight clear,
That glorious song of old,
From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold;
“Peace on the earth, good will to men,
From Heaven’s all gracious King.
The world in solemn stillness lay,
To hear the angels sing.

Still through the cloven skies they come
With peaceful wings unfurled,
And still their heavenly music floats
O’er all the weary world;
Above its sad and lowly plains
They bend on hovering wing,
And ever o’er its Babel-sounds
The blessed angels sing.

Yet with the woes of sin and strife
The world has suffered long;
Beneath the heavenly strain have rolled
Two thousand years of wrong;
And man, at war with man, hears not
The tidings which they bring;
O hush the noise, ye men of strife,
And hear the angels sing!

O ye, beneath life’s crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
Come swiftly on the wing;
O rest beside the weary road
And hear the angels sing!

For lo! the days are hastening on,
By prophets seen of old,
When with the ever-circling years
Shall come the time foretold,
When peace shall over all the earth
Its ancient splendors fling,
And the whole world give back the song
Which now the angels sing."

trust.

A girl in my small group shared recently how she’s learning to trust God in difficult situations despite what she feels. She made an interesting point: “If it feels comfortable and easy, I’m probably not trusting Him like I should.”

Let’s face it – trust is not comfortable. It’s not something I ever really feel like doing.

In fact, trust often times works against our emotions as we seek to take God at His word. When less-than-favorable circumstances affect our lives, our flesh is tempted to respond in fear, anxiety, or anger. We freak out, look around, freak out some more... That’s actually the easy way to respond – freaking out just comes so naturally. (Or is that just the case with me? Um…)

But trust is the more difficult choice. Trust says that God is still on His throne, no matter what I’m seeing in the world around me, and that God is for me, no matter what I feel. It’s not a foolish way of thinking – it’s the right way, the tried-and-tested way, the way of hope. The foolish thing would be to leave it up to our emotions to guide us through the rough waters that we will inevitably encounter.

Another friend recently told me that she lost her full-time job, has had a lot of trouble finding another one, and needs a new place to live… but instead of giving into fear, she has learned to rest in the Lord’s provision. And in the midst of all her hardships, she has seen God provide for her again and again…and again…in the most random ways.

It was the peace on my friend’s face as she recounted her situation that spoke to my heart the most. That peace is what I long for. It’s what everyone longs for, more than the job or the house or the retirement fund. It’s the peace of complete trust.

When I get overwhelmed by the struggles of life, sometimes I freak out – so did Peter, when he took his eyes off Jesus, saw the waves, and started to sink. But does my emotional response negate the reality of God’s existence, His power, or His willingness to save? Not in the least! In fact, my hope is found in the reality that God does not change despite my lack of faith – “if we are faithless, He will remain faithful, for He cannot disown Himself” (2 Timothy 2:13).

I would just rather save myself from the pain of not trusting my God, and instead receive His peace to guide me through these waters.

truth.

“Imagine how rich your life can be if you let a fear of failure go!”

This encouragement was spoken to me recently regarding an upcoming audition and the accompanying fear that I might not pass it. But these words sank deep into me and got me to think about just how much my fear of failure keeps me from. It goes far beyond trying out for plays or acting troupes, writing songs or speaking in front of crowds. Those things are challenging, yes. But the fear of failure affects my relationships as well, and that’s where the real tragedy occurs.

1 John 4:18 says, “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love.”

Well shoot, I want to be made perfect in love! And the thing is – I have been! God has made me perfect and holy, regardless of how I feel on my bad days. And if God (perfect Love) is with me, and He is indeed with me, then there should be no fear. So what’s holding me back?

The big issue here is faith. Do I believe what God has said? Do I believe that God is perfect love? Obviously, no matter what I believe, the truth of Scripture doesn’t change. However, what I believe directly influences the way I live my life, and this is where the problem lies. As my dear friend recently wrote, “Fear is completely unacceptable for Christians.” Harsh words, but totally true if we really believe what the Word says. And yet, that pesky voice keeps yelling at me…

What is it that my fear of failure is really saying to me? It’s saying that if I don’t make this audition, that must mean I’m not good enough. If I deliver a talk and I feel it goes poorly, that must mean I’m not cut out for this. I take a chance and love deeply, and then something goes wrong, that must mean all humanity is evil or perhaps real love is a sham.

Are any of those “must means” true? Nope.

What is true? If I fail at something, God’s opinion of me does not change. If I fall short of a goal, He loves me just as much. In fact, I think God uses the failures in our lives just as much as the victories to develop our character and strengthen our faith. So I think I can safely let go of this fear of not measuring up, because there’s really no way for me to not measure up in God’s eyes.

And that’s Who we’re living for, right?

So if I were to really trust Perfect Love and let go of this fear of failure, what would that free me up to do? Well, I think I could actually fulfill Colossians 3:12-14:

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

If I were free of fear, I could truly show compassion and kindness to everyone I meet. I could be gentle in all situations, without fear that I’ll get walked over. I could be patient, without fear that I won’t get whatever it is my heart is longing for. I could forgive completely, without fear that justice won’t be done. And I could love – really, truly, deeply love – without fear that I’ll end up broken-hearted.

In short, freedom from fear enables me to live like Christ commands.

Perfect love casts out all fear, and we are holy and dearly loved. Let’s try living like it.

surrendering.

“I don’t know that many people who are completely and totally surrendered to God. I mean, not just today, but throughout history – there just aren’t that many people. Which leads me to think it’s just not possible.”

I had to admit that I didn’t know that many people either…actually, I don’t know any who are surrendered to God 100 percent of the time. I’m pretty sure those people are in heaven right now. We all have sin issues to struggle with until the day we’re done. There’s a bit of comfort in that, I think.

“The thing is,” I said, “it’s a daily kind of surrender. I wake up and I surrender my life to God, and then I do it again the next day, and the next…sometimes even moment by moment. It’s a constant choice.”

“So you’re telling me,” he said incredulously, taking another bite of the funnel cake between us, “that you are willing to totally surrender yourself every day to God, even though He lets bad stuff happen, even in your life?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“Because I know me. And I know the mistakes I’ve made when I’ve ignored Him and tried it my way, and how much pain I’ve caused myself, and how much I would have avoided had I just listened to Him.”

“What if He asked you to give up the one thing you loved most in the world. Would you do it?”

I had to pause. Would I? Have I? I took an instantaneous, honest appraisal of my life. At the time, I was working through the issue of finances…was I willing to completely surrender that? Or what if, in the future, He asked me to give up a relationship that I loved? I suddenly remembered that torturous feeling I get when I’m grappling with obedience, and how long it has taken me in years past to be willing to give up or do things He’s clearly called me to in total trust. I remembered times of agonizing and fighting until I finally threw up my hands in surrender…and later reaped a harvest.

Ultimately, yes, I would do it. I would surrender whatever He asked, however long it took me to do it. Because to ignore His call (i.e. to disobey) would mean to forego His best. And I know that whatever He asks me to give up, He is going to replace with something infinitely better.

That's the way He is.

Psalm 37:4-6
Delight yourself in the LORD
and he will give you the desires of your heart.
Commit your way to the LORD;
trust in him and he will do this:
He will make your righteousness shine like the dawn,
the justice of your cause like the noonday sun.

cloud.

One of my favorite Bible stories is in 1 Kings, chapter 18. No kidding.

Here’s what’s happening. There’s this prophet named Elijah who has been involved in some of the greatest displays of God’s power that Israel has seen since the days of Moses and Joshua. In this particular story, Israel has been in a drought for a few years – another display of power God enacted through Elijah – and one day Elijah told the king to prepare for a heavy rain. So Elijah goes up to this mountain to pray, I guess, and he tells his servant to “go and look toward the sea.”
The servant goes, comes back and says, “There’s nothing there.”
Elijah tells him to go back and check again.
Servant comes back, says the same thing.
This happens 8 times. Finally, the servant comes back to Elijah and says, “A cloud as small as a man’s hand is rising from the sea.”
Well, Elijah takes that as the sign that God is sending rain, and he runs (faster than a horse and chariot) all the way back before the storm hits.

Kind of a random story, at first glance. However, I think it’s pretty timely…

Note that the servant told Elijah he saw a cloud “as small as a man’s hand.” That’s a pretty small cloud! I wonder if the guy would have noticed that cloud if it had been there the first time he went to the sea…or would it rather have blended into the landscape?

Maybe seeing nothing at all so many times in a row made the servant more perceptive of the first sign, small as it was, that a storm was finally coming.

Here’s the application:
Have you ever needed God to move on your behalf, but for the longest time nothing seemed to happen?
Maybe God, Who is always at work on our behalf, gives us seasons where nothing seems to happen so that when He does start to move visibly, we’re able to notice it from the first moment. Maybe He uses those periods of no activity to heighten our awareness of what He’s really doing, so that we can actively take part in that journey with Him from start to finish.

So where are you right now? If you’re experiencing that season of drought, keep in mind that God hears your prayers, and He is on the move whether you see it or not. Maybe He wants to use this time to sharpen your senses for when He takes visible action…And the next thing you know, after a drought you thought would never end, you find yourself in the middle of a downpour.

sozo.

Our God is in the business of healing. In the Old Testament, the original Hebrew word for “heal” was “rapa” – “to heal; to be healed, be cured; to repair, to recover, see that is completely healed, wholesome, makes fresh.” In other words, it meant literal, physical healing.

As soon as we get into the New Testament, however, the word used for “heal” changes. When Jesus enters the scene, the term “rapa,” with its literal connotation, is replaced by “therapeuo” or “sozo.” Why is that?

Let’s take a deeper look at this word sozo. The NIV Strongest Exhaustive Concordance defines sozo by the following words: “to save, rescue, deliver; to heal; to be in right relationship with God, with the implication that the condition before salvation was one of grave danger or distress; bring safely, cured, delivered, get better, made well, survive.”

Jesus came to heal us, but in a much greater sense than the purely physical. First and foremost, He came to heal our relationship with God, which we never could have done on our own. He rescued us from eternal separation from our Father. And as if that weren't enough, He offers us healing in every area of our lives. No matter what has happened to us or what we've done in the past, His love offers complete healing and restoration, and through that healing He gives us the free gift of abundant life. That is the essence of sozo.

The interesting thing about sozo is that almost every time it’s used in the New Testament, it’s related somehow to faith of the person in question. For instance, Jesus tells Jairus, the man who has come seeking Him on behalf of his dying daughter, to "just believe and she will be healed [sozo]" (Luke 8:50). When the woman with the issue of blood touches Jesus’ cloak, she thinks to herself, “If I just touch His clothes, I will be healed [sozo]” (Matthew 5:23). And in response, Jesus says, “Your faith has healed [sozo] you” (Matthew 5:24). It’s almost as if He is saying, “Your faith has caused you to be honest about what's going on in your life, and your belief that I am Who I say I am has allowed Me to truly heal the deepest places of your heart. Your faith has put you in right relationship with Me."

So it would seem that this sozo is directly tied to our faith. It’s our faith that makes sozo possible in our lives. Yes, God can do whatever He wants and heal however He wants to, whether we realize He’s doing it or not. Our temporary lack of faith does not decrease His power. However, our faith and belief in Him certainly helps in our ability to receive true healing. The more authentic we are about our need for Him, the more open we will be to receiving His help.
I think it comes down to a choice. Will we believe God to be God in our lives? Will we trust Him enough to open ourselves up and be real about what's going on with us? We are all in desperate need of sozo... Do we have the faith to admit it?

kazoo.

Summerville won the "Campus of the Week" award, via a Fedex from Long Point this morning. And so, we celebrated... 

rockstar.

I’ve been thinking a lot about humility since Greg's message last week (about how we all want to be rockstars). And at first I thought I was doing okay in that area…until someone committed one of my pet peeves.

We’ve all got pet peeves, right? I’ve got more than a few. I get irritated at things that beep incessantly, dogs that jump on me, babies that fuss during weddings, people who take my parking spot...

That’s right – my parking spot. I used to live in a house with a couple of roommates, and we were given three parking spots. However, someone else, who didn’t live there, would often take my parking spot. And it infuriated me – after all, I’m the one paying the rent, right? I’m the one who lives there, who has a lot to bring in from her car at night, and somebody else is parking in my spot! It’s just not right.

I really got angry about this, I’m not gonna lie. But then I started wondering why I was so mad. Was it really about the parking spot? Or was it about something else, something bigger than that?

There’s a passage from C.S. Lewis’ Mere Christianity that’s been rolling around in my head ever since I started thinking about this. Listen to this: “If you want to find out how proud you are the easiest way is to ask yourself, 'How much do I dislike it when other people snub me, or refuse to take any notice of me, or shove their oar in, or patronize me, or show off?’”

My answer to each of those questions is, “I hate it.”

Why do I hate it? Because I feel I deserve better treatment. I deserve to be noticed. I deserve to have that parking spot. I, I, I, I…uh-oh.

Here’s why humility is so hard for me. If I am able to choose to be humble – for instance, if I drive up to my house, see an empty parking spot nearby, but decide to take one further away so that my neighbor can have the closer spot – then I’m fine. It’s cool – I’m in control, and I have made that choice.

If, however, the path of humility is chosen for me, which is more often the case, then I have a problem. I am left to only react – I have no control. And I don’t like not being in control.

But humility should flow through our actions and our reactions. Look at Philippians 2:5-11:

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross! Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

Jesus didn’t reach for power. He didn’t strive for attention. He just was who He was. He loved people. He healed people. He often gave up rest and food to minister to the lost and hurting. And even when people mistook Him for a mere man, He accepted it. He was obedient to the mission, even to death. He acted humbly, and He reacted humbly.

And then God glorified Him.

This whole thing about being noticed and getting ahead and all that – it’s all striving for nothing. God lowers, and God elevates. He just asks us to trust Him to do it in His timing, and to love others as ourselves in the meantime. To keep His mission in mind above all else. It’s a matter of focus, really.

C.S. Lewis concluded his thoughts on pride by saying that the truly humble man “will not be thinking about humility: he will not be thinking about himself at all.”

Hmmm...Seems the parking spot is the least of my issues. How about you?

instinct.

In Genesis 15:5, God makes a huge promise to Abram. He tells him that his descendants will be as numerous as the stars in the sky. For a guy who had no children and was well-advanced in years, that's a pretty mind-stretching statement to make. I read ahead, expecting Abram to ask some pertinent questions to clarify how this was going to happen.

Abram actually said nothing in response. He simply "believed the Lord." It was an automatic heart-response that said, "Whatever You say is true, no matter how crazy it may seem to me. I believe You." No questions, no doubt, just silent belief. 

Shouldn't that be my response to God all the time? An instinctive "amen," knowing that His words will come to pass? Instead, I read things in the Bible that seem too good to be true, and some that seem a bit harsh, and I think to myself, "Can that be? Really? Hmmm."

These are the very words of God. Where is there room for questioning? For doubt? Does He not follow through on everything He says? I have known Him long enough to understand that even if certain things haven't yet come to pass, they certainly will. He will do exactly as He says.

2 Cor. 1:20 - "For no matter how many promises God has made, they are 'Yes' in Christ. And so through Him the "Amen" is spoken by us to the glory of God..."

shorts.

I'm currently doing a Beth Moore Bible study with my small group called "Believing God," and it's just fantastic. This week's homework has us going through the first 15 or so years of our lives and remembering different "GodStops" along the way. Everybody in our group comes from such different backgrounds that it can't help but make for interesting (and powerful) group discussion...
Anyway, today I had to think through ages 10-15 in my life, which wasn't necessarily pleasant at first because that meant middle school and a lot of uncomfortable memories. But then I remembered something that happened in 7th grade, which I will share with you starting...NOW.

Once upon a time in the 7th grade, I went to a private school. This particular school had some very nice staff and some very not-so-nice students...but I suppose that is the case in just about every middle school. This school also had a rule that no one, except for kindergartners, could wear shorts.

Now, this school is in Charleston, SC. And come about mid-March, the temperature can rise to about 90 degrees or so mid-day. AND they had a rule that we had to go outside for recess every day. So you can imagine the misery for all of us, 1st grade and up, during April and May. You may be saying to yourself, "Why didn't the girls wear skirts?" Well, I was rather tomboyish in style those days and would rather have boiled in the sun than wear a skirt...

So I decided to investigate the history of this ridiculous rule. After I found out that it had been established on faulty (in my opinion) logic, I decided to do what I could to remedy this situation. In other words, I decided to become an activist for students' rights. After talking it over with my parents, my mom showed me how to write a petition and suggested that I get my fellow students, who joined me in my complaints, to sign it. So I drafted a petition for the teachers to allow us to wear shorts during the hot spring and summer months, while agreeing that we would keep them at a modest length at all times.

One fateful day (I think it was a Thursday), I took my petition to school. I decided not to show any teachers what I was doing until after I had obtained a sufficient number of signatures. I didn't want them to stop the democratic process before we had the chance to be heard. So I went around between classes and during recess, and the number of signatures grew.

However, a few girls, who had been excited to add their names at first, suddenly feared that I was being subversive and was going to get them all in trouble. One by one, they tried to talk me out of showing anyone the petition. One girl in particular snatched the petition out of my hand and scratched her name off the list, tearing the paper in the process. Very upsetting.

Finally, after realizing they weren't going to stop me, one of them went and told the teacher. I may as well have been throwing a coup d'etat by all the fuss being made. I was so upset by this Judas-like betrayal that I ran to the bathroom in tears. Several friends came to comfort me, saying I was doing a great thing - "Don't give up!" they said. But it was too late - the authorities took over.

My teacher, Mrs. Dickerson, made me stand in the hallway with her while she called my mom. I have to stop here and explain that, as a child, whenever I thought I had done something wrong, I would start crying uncontrollably. I hated being in trouble, no matter what the reason. So by this point, I was pretty much sobbing. Mrs. Dickerson handed me the phone, and I remember being surprised as my mother almost shouted into the phone, "Your dad and I are SO PROUD of you, Sarah! WOW!"

What? I was in trouble, and my mom was proud of me? I was amazed.

I had to take my petition to the principal of the school. In retrospect, I think both she and my teacher were trying not to laugh at the scenario, especially when they saw the issue the petition addressed. Then my mother came and picked me up early, carrying cake and chocolate eclairs. We went home and celebrated as a family. My parents were so proud that I had stood up for something, that I had done it honorably, and that I had even suffered for the cause - no matter what the result was. A day that had promised to be traumatic had instead turned out to be monumental in a very different way.

So what happened? Well, the very last week of school, in late May, the entire school was allowed to wear shorts if they chose. And while I ended up not going to that school in 8th grade, I got wind that there had been a permanent change in their dress code. They decided to go with uniforms for their students...but navy-blue shorts would now be included as an option.

And in my parents' support that day, I got a glimpse of God's pleasure that will stay with me forever...all because of shorts.

q&a

Tonight, my band and I read through John 11 together. This is the part in Jesus’ story when His friend Lazarus got very sick and was expected to die soon. Instead of rushing to the scene to help and heal, Jesus waited two more days.

His justification for waiting so long? “This sickness will not end in death,” He said.

But alas, Lazarus did die*. And Jesus waited until after Lazarus passed to even think of traveling to his town. When He got there, He found Lazarus’ two sisters, Mary and Martha, grieving over their immense loss.

When she saw Him, Mary fell on her knees in reverence, realizing that Jesus was still the Sovereign Son of God. And then she said the only words she could find to say – words that, I think, came from a blend of faith, grief, and anger. “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.”

Her faith was displayed by her acknowledgement that He indeed could have saved Lazarus from death. Her confusion and/or anger, in my opinion, was revealed by one word: “If...” I wonder if that “if” was really screaming another question – “If You could have saved him, why didn’t You?”

When I imagine this scenario, I can almost hear a faintly accusing tone in Mary’s voice, and suddenly I know the pain she is feeling.

Questioning God usually comes out of great pain, doesn’t it?

Face it – we all have moments in our lives when we question God. I don’t chalk it up to spiritual immaturity, either. I’ve been walking with God for 18 years, but if I said I never questioned Him or got angry when I didn’t understand His ways, I’d be lying. I imagine you would be, too.

And at a certain point in your spiritual walk, the question changes. In the early days of our faith, the question we may ask God is, “Are You powerful?” But at a certain point, after we establish in our hearts that He really can do what He says He can do, and yet He doesn’t do it, the scarier question becomes, “Are You good?”

The thing is, God is not threatened by our questions or by our anger. He also is not fooled or unaware of what we’re thinking. So why don’t we just be open about it?

If you’re afraid of God’s response to your questions, be sure to look at Jesus’ response to Mary’s words. He did not chastise her. He did not rebuke her.

He watched her weep, and He was “deeply moved in spirit and troubled.” Shortly thereafter, He wept too.

The Son of God wept. He had just been challenged, in a way, because Mary didn’t understand the bigger picture, but instead of getting angry and setting her straight, Jesus felt exactly what she felt and wept with her.

How about that for our God, huh?

Here’s what I want to say to you. If you’re mad at God, just say it – to Him. He can handle it – believe me. He can handle all your anger, disappointment, and fear. But here’s the catch – don’t stay mad. What on earth good does it do?

I think after you express your doubts, anger, questions, or whatever it is, you may experience a peace that you didn’t know was possible in your situation. At least, that’s been my experience. God treasures your honesty, too. Just don’t forget that He’s, you know, GOD – still the same God from the Old Testament, the One that created the universe and smote nations…in other words, He’s a whole lot bigger, greater, and smarter than you. Fortunately for you, though, He loves you beyond measure.

And if you’re in a season of weeping right now, doesn’t it comfort you to know that Jesus weeps with you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Other thoughts:
My friend Gale suggested that maybe one of the reasons Jesus waited for Lazarus to die was so that He would know the loss of a loved one, like so many of us have experienced, and so He would know how to comfort us in our sorrow…Food for thought, I guess.

*(For those of you who haven’t read this story, Jesus does actually bring Lazarus back to life and restores him to his sisters – after four days in a tomb. Sometimes God lets things die completely so that, when He brings them back to life, the only one who could possibly get the credit is Him.)

desperation = redemption.

'Looking at his disciples, he said:
"Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
Blessed are you who hunger now,
for you will be satisfied.
Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
Blessed are you when men hate you,
when they exclude you and insult you
and reject your name as evil, because of the Son of Man.

"Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, because great is your reward in heaven. For that is how their fathers treated the prophets.
"But woe to you who are rich,
for you have already received your comfort.
Woe to you who are well fed now,
for you will go hungry.
Woe to you who laugh now,
for you will mourn and weep.
Woe to you when all men speak well of you,
for that is how their fathers treated the false prophets."'
Luke 6:20-26

The words of Jesus constantly posed bold and uncomfortable challenges to the status quo. This time was no different. In a culture dominated by the lust for happiness, popularity, and material blessing, Jesus went against the grain and stated that the poor, the hungry, and the desperate were the ones to be admired. It was almost as if He were saying the people that we try to pity are the ones we should strive to be like. How can this be?

Even as Christ-followers, we spend so much time trying to look like we have it all together - like once you accept Christ, everything's golden. We know that isn't true, but a lot of us go to great lengths to keep anyone else from finding out.

The reality is, we are to embrace our need for Him, not cover it up with false glory, perishing riches, and empty laughter. He is saying, “This need that makes you weep, keeps you hungry and thirsty, and brings mockery on your head is to be celebrated, because I have come to fill it. Blessed are you who believe Me, who do not fall away on account of Me, who weep now because of Me – because the day is coming when all tears will be wiped away and remembered no more.

“But to you who ignore this deepest desire, who go to great lengths to silence the thought that "maybe there really is something more" – woe to you, because you will never be filled.”

It seems we have a choice to make. Will we continue to act like we're just fine, or will we be honest about our desperation? Will we live the lie of self-sufficiency, or will we actively rely on Christ's all to redeem us?