the messy beautiful

Father, my mind cannot grasp your greatness. I read your Word, your many feats–how you advocate for us, and my mind, my self-absorption, my pride, makes me focus on myself–my small problems, my small worries and cares. Your ways are good. You see beyond what I can see. You pursue justice. You ask us what

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lying is no way to impress anyone

I dreamt last night. And in the dreaming I was lying, manipulating. It was a group setting–people I know from different parts of my life–and we were each asked to share what it means to us to be vulnerable. People shared. And they were honest, authentic. Their very act of sharing was a beautiful example of vulnerability. Not hiding. Not pretending. Not faking. Peeling back layers of the heart to reveal the naked beautiful truth underneath.

Yes, it was beautiful.

Specifically, we were asked to share times in high school and in college when we demonstrated vulnerability. And in the dream, I am panicking. I not only want to be vulnerable; I want to do a rock-star job of being vulnerable. And what is so weird is that, in the dream–rather than confessing truth (and actually being vulnerable); I share lies.

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why I can’t trust myself, and why that has to stop

It is time for me to admit I have no answers. To admit that I am not yet free. Confession: I hurt people around me. And I do this by idolizing myself. And success. And being right.

When the self is an idol, the whole world, the way I perceive it, is warped. Even now I struggle to trust my own words, my feelings, my voice–a deep-seeded wound I thought was uprooted years ago. I don’t know if I can trust myself.

I know I can’t. Not yet.

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when it’s time to be done

People say it’s in the quiet where we can most easily find Him. Not because He is quiet. Not necessarily. Not because He is calm. Not consistently. But because the distractions come fierce and loud. And our hearts—fragile, on their own—need Him to pull us back to the beginning, the pure place, with Him.

And yes, I think this is true.

Jesus, we need you.

Grab hold of our hearts and bring us to You.

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rescue from self-contempt

Her eyes are big, gentle and kind. Her music is beautiful, her fingers upon keys, her body dancing, her voice singing out. In her words, her glory–I glimpse the more that is here. But she tells me she doesn’t see it. Her beauty. Her value.

She is displaced, feeling separate from the exquisiteness of her own soul even while she creates beauty, and is loved, so loved, here.

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taking back surrender

Surrendering might be the most difficult thing. True surrender–the kind where you feel powerless and empowered at the same time. Powerless because everything you’ve believed, everything you’ve fought for and were convinced about, is being laid down. Empowered because surrendering is, in fact, an action. No one can force us into it. No one can make us put up our hands and wave a white flag, even if we convince ourselves we are out of options.

Surrendering is an act of will. Our will. Despite obstacles, challenges, hurdles where we can’t imagine a way through, surrendering is still a choice, a way forward.

Surrender doesn’t have to mean a step back.

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