I’ve learned so much about myself in the past year. It’s truly amazing to trek through life thinking I’ve made all of this progress or feel that I have already gained so much wisdom from many hard lessons and humbling experiences and to consistently find there is ever more to learn.

I’ve learned more about the art of open, honest, gracious conversation and the value that it brings to those engaged in it. That saying things out loud, as they are, takes away their power to cause us grief or anxiety or fear. That saying them can cultivate beauty.

It’s not as simple as I once thought, either. I used to think that simply saying it was enough. But even words said with good intention can be harmful when said in haste.

Like a seed planted and given time will either sprout a healthy plant or will shrink away, the time I take to wait another minute or hour or day or week to say those words can bear life-giving fruit when I take the time to cultivate it. 

My words have power and the more time I take to craft them, the more significance I give to them, and the more beauty I create as God’s glory is amplified through them.

I’ve only recently come to realize the importance of this. My careless words have cut others and myself deeply. They have burned bridges and destroyed friendships. I think a lot about the conversations and words of the past and the impact I made because of them.

For the conversations and words that have hurt and destroyed, I am sorry.

For the conversations and words left unsaid, I am sorry.

But I cannot change what has been said, as much as I desperately wish I could gather them all back up and bury them away for the rest of time.

Instead, I now look for opportunities to establish a different kind of impact with my words: life-giving and fruitful. 

How can the things that I speak or write plant the seeds for life to be grown? How can I ensure that they bear fruit? 

I begin by rooting my words in Scripture. In the words of Jesus, the Word of Life (1 John 1:1-4). The ageless, timeless, Spirit-inspired Word of God is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training that I might be equipped to do His good work (2 Timothy 3:16-17). 

Speaking life doesn’t always look like saying what feels right in the moment, or what you think the other person wants to hear. Often, it looks like having the difficult conversations and saying the hard truths in love and trusting God to harvest what, how, and when he knows best. 

Jesus spent his entire ministry speaking words that were equally difficult to hear and yet, life-giving. 

For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of. A good man brings good things out of the good stored up in him, and an evil man brings evil things out of the evil stored up in him. But I tell you that everyone will have to give account on the day of judgment for every empty word they have spoken. For by your words you will be acquitted, and by your words you will be condemned.” — Matthew 12:35b-36

And so, I take one step at a time. Taking hold of each moment and word and thought and cultivating beauty instead of destruction, love instead of hate, and grace instead of vengeance. And I will fail, and so will you. But the call and mission to serve one another and share the wealth of what Jesus has done is infinitely worthy and can bear much fruit because of what I say.

I walked out of the store with only two items in my hand: a birthday card for a friend and a sympathy card for a family who lost their 6-year-old son. 

I sat on the couch with a  couple of friends watching mindless television and earlier that very same day a family lost their son to a life-long heart defect. 

I sat sifting through contract legalese and administrative lethargy while many of the best people I know poured out their God-give gifts at a massive ministry event. 

But life is full of contrast, isn’t it? Right now you might be sitting in your comfortable house while someone else isn’t even sure where they will sleep tonight.

You might be reeling from a huge fight with your spouse while you scroll past someone’s photo of their annoyingly adorable date night. 

You might not know that while you’re celebrating your new job at a restaurant with your family, someone in that same restaurant is being consoled by their friends for having just lost theirs. 

I notice I’ve been wearing a lot more black and white in the past year, the epitome of contrast. I don’t really know what that means about me and where I have been in my life, but it’s relevant and speaks to my soul somewhere deep within. 

I love contrasting colors. I love when one color pops out against another, or the balance that it brings in having opposite colors that both compliment and oppose one another. 

The life of Jesus looked a lot like contrast.  

“Instead, he gave up his divine privileges; 

he took the humble position of a slave

and was born as a human being.

When he appeared in human form,

he humbled himself in obedience to God

and died a criminal’s death on a cross.”

– Philippians 2:7-9

A God who gave up his divine-ness and came to earth to be a human being? A slave? Dying a criminal’s death? 

During his short time traveling with his disciples, Jesus stood in stark contrast to the rest of his culture. Turning tradition on its head and asking the tough questions to people who needed to reframe their perspective. 

Because of our relationship with him, we are called to do the same. To stand in stark contrast to the world around us. 

Instead of hiding our weaknesses and mistakes and shames and regrets, we are asked to face them. To lay them at the feet of Jesus and ask for forgiveness. To use them to minister to others and show God’s sufficient grace and mighty power made perfect through Jesus. (2 Corinthians 12:9-10)

In times of hurt and loss and need we are asked not to lean on the things of this world, but to give thanks to God because of his love through Jesus. (1 Thessalonians 5:8)

Instead of seeking selfish ambition and vain praise, we are asked to value others above ourselves. (Philippians 2:3)

Instead of turning to anger or defeat or taking matters into our own hands, we are asked to be patient in affliction. (Romans 12:12)

That doesn’t sound at all like the world we live in, does it? That’s because we are living for a greater Kingdom. One that never fails and that in contrast to this crumbling earth, will last for eternity. 

Are you living your life in contrast?

I realized I spent the entire first part of my life doing things for other people.

I started to think about why I was a good student in school and followed the rules and tried to succeed and went to college. And I realized that my motivation was because I thought that’s what everyone else wanted me to do, or more accurately that doing those things were equated with acceptance and love. 

It’s like I had a sudden awakening and looked back and I had been droning through life, a pawn to what other people expected of me. That, of course, was my own choice. I let myself be the pawn, never waking up to what it is that I really wanted. And in reality, it wasn’t really what other people expected of me, it’s what I assumed they expected of me.

So here I am, 30 years old with even more time in front of me than behind me, and I have no idea what I want. 

I know what other people want. That’s easy for me. I can identify a need without someone even expressing it and immediately take action. I can help others dig out what it is they want to do with a few questions and a dose of reality. 

I know what other people need. Those close to me, I know what they like when they’re happy, when they’re sad, what their drink of choice is, what books they love, what their dreams are. It’s all neatly filed away in my brain to be accessed at a moment’s notice.

I don’t resent anyone for this. I have chosen to bury myself beneath the essence of others because it is truly what I love doing the most – serving other people. 

Somewhere, hidden beneath all of that, is what I want and what I need. But now the problem is I don’t know how to access it. I think I’ve come close a few times when I was younger. When I dreamed of learning guitar and being a camp counselor and then later on dreamed of being a camp director forever and always. While I did learn to play guitar and was on camp staff for 4 summers, my dream of being a camp director never came to fruition and life took twists and turns that I will never regret, but look back on and wonder what might have been different “if”. 

Today I stand in a place where I feel that the world truly IS my oyster (I actually never understood this metaphor. Is it because I can now make pearls? Or what?). I am independent, I am single, I have a disposable income, I can do literally anything. Close friends ask all the time, “What is that you want?”.

“Great Question.”, I respond. 

I can think of a lot of things that seem like they would be good. Or that I would be good at. “That would be fine”, I think, as I run through the list of things that spark interest or that others tell me I would do well. 

I am not so naive as to think that knowing what I want will automatically result in me getting that thing. Perhaps, even if I know what I want, that dream or goal will never be realized because of obstacles or resources or lack of motivation. 

But somehow, going through life never pursuing something bigger than myself seems unbearable. With more life before me than behind me, I want to do something to glorify God and make a difference in the lives of those he puts in my wake. 

But what is that something?

I don’t doubt that God has used me in the lives of the people I have the privilege of having in my life, but I am not content to sit idly by satisfied that I’ve done “something”, and “shouldn’t that be enough?”. 

It’s not. God is bigger. He says I am more. 

So, I wait in prayer. I wait in conversation. I wait in reading scripture and books. And I seek God each step of the way to show me what it is that I want. To help me work through and recover the lost pieces of myself that I have buried away deep beneath the remnants of others.

One little imperfection on my desk. 

A small crack with an upturned piece of wood. 

A small piece of wood that catches on my shirt sleeve. 

That catches on my shirt sleeve pretty much any time I do ANYTHING. 

Type. Use my mouse. Answer the phone. Eat my lunch. Write on a post-it. 

One little imperfection on my desk driving me to the brink of insanity. 

It isn’t really the little sharp piece of wood that has my head about to explode, of course. It’s the million and one other things that are nagging for my attention and filling my brain and begging to be done. 

But right now all I can think about is this one little stupid, dumb, annoying, dumb, stupid, tiny, ridiculous, dumb crack in my desk. 

We’ve all heard people sound off the colloquial “It’s the little things in life”, usually in reference to the small little pleasures like getting the parking spot close to the grocery store door, a cup of tea at the end of a long day, or a perfectly organized and put together binder (That one might be just me). 

But it’s the little things that can break us as well. Like that fly that’s been buzzing around your house for days, or the little ticking noise that is suddenly coming from your fan, or the tiny little crack in your desk at work that catches on literally everything you can imagine and all of the things you cannot. 

I think that this is how the enemy chooses to work against us as well. In the little things. Piling them all on top of each other until we break. 

Hitting all of the lights red on the way to work. That one extra task that the boss placed on your already monstrous to-do list. Beginning to use the toilet before realizing the person before you didn’t change the toilet paper roll. 

Ephesians 6 is the chapter about putting on the Armor of God. Verse 16 says, “In all circumstances take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming darts of the evil one”.

The enemy is constantly throwing little darts at us to try to distract us from our focus on Jesus. Yes, sometimes it’s the big things that we get catapulted at us. But what tends to make us snap is the one little thing that ends up being the “straw that broke the camel’s back”. And we lose it. One little dart might not seem like much. But picture standing there as dart, after dart, after flaming dart are heaved at you. We lose our temper, our patience, and ultimately lose sight of the one who really has control over it all. 

So, how do we stay focused in the midst of having a million flaming darts thrown our way? Let’s go back to Ephesians 6. 

Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God, so that you can take your stand against the devil’s schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. – Ephesians 6:10-17

God is the one who equips us. Staying close with Him shows us how to put on (and keep on) our armor so that they are the most effective they can be. Just like a soldier must be trained for a battle, we too must be trained to stand the ground we have been called to walk on and claim in the name of Jesus, for His glory. 

So that when the little things come around, we do not fall prey to the hopeless schemes of the devil. While he may have room to play on this earth for the time being, we know the victory is won through the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus. We have been equipped to withstand the darts, the arrows, and the stones that are thrown our way. 

“Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid, for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.” – Joshua 1:9

“What kind of monster rides in their car in SILENCE?”, I overheard myself say in a processing session with some friends in the midst of yet another round of giving online dating a shot.

Both of their eyes widened, they looked at each other and looked me straight in the eye and with undeserving grace said, “Oh… well, we do”.

I honestly could not believe it. I always have something going in my car. And I mean always. Even when there is someone else riding along, I have to have music going in the background because it’s just too darn quiet. “Sorry, can we hold on just a second? I need to put on some music or I’ll go nuts.”

I have always been surrounded by noise. My parents have owned a little bakery in my hometown for as long as I have been alive. From the time I was a baby, I grew up in the midst of roaring ovens, beeping timers, rattling mixers, banging dishes, and earnest conversation. Sometimes after church on Sundays, my dad and I would stop by to grab something or so he could do a quick task and I remember being freaked out by the silent contrast of the empty building without its regular hubbub.  

I remember coming home from school when I was a bit older and grabbing my blanket and stuffed animal, crawling up on the stacks of 50-pound flour bags and taking a nap in the heart of all of the hustle and bustle that comes with the place that is the heartbeat of that small town.

Even as a teenager, when I was home alone, I was never in the quiet. At the very least, the TV would always be on in the background or music would be playing to alleviate the painful dread that the silence was for me, a habit I’ve kept up with to this day.

Constant stimulus pouring into my eardrums and making its way to my brain calling for me to avoid what really makes me uncomfortable – being alone with my own thoughts.

And yet, the words of my friends and the Word of God in Psalm 46:10 (Be still and know that I am God) coupled with the book I am currently reading have pushed me to step outside of my comfort zone and be still in the silence, in the presence of God.

So one day this week I decided I would ride my whole 35-minute commute in silence. I got in my car, clicked the radio off, and basically said, “Okay God, let’s do this.”, fully expecting to have some sort of magical revelation.

And lo and behold, descending from the heavens above came…

Nothing.

And truly I mean nothing. I cannot even tell you now what I thought about and prayed about along the way.

But I had totally missed the point.

Being still isn’t about waiting for God to pour out all of the answers to my problems or some great revelation or mystery of the earth.

Being still is about relationship. God desires a deep, intimate relationship with us. He wants the kind of comfortability in our relationship with Him where we set aside time to simply be in His presence and turn our faces away from everything else vying for our attention and towards His face.

He wants that place to become our comfort zone. The place we retreat to when we’ve been overwhelmed by the world and all of its constant stimuli, just as Jesus did when He walked this earth.

When can you set aside time to just “be still” in the presence of your Savior? I can’t promise you’ll get all the answers you need in that moment, but what I can promise is that time spent with your Creator will embolden you to live a life of deep faith and trust in the One who created, redeemed and sustains you.

Today my heart is longing for the “not now” and “not yet” and “no”. An ache that is filled both with hope, potential, and possibility, and sorrow and grief.

Life in its current state feels unstable, as though the slightest imbalance will cause an avalanche that I will not be able to stop. While there is goodness in the current moment, my heart cannot help but see the possibility for the future and reach out for it in desperate, yearning grasps.

For the “Not now” – the things that I have been doing that are good, rich, and God-honoring, but that are not meant for this season. Things that I’ve said goodbye to, or am in the process of walking away from.

For the “Not Yet” – the things that I know God has in store for me in the future, or that could be, but that require waiting, time, and patience.

For the “No” – the hardest ones to come to terms with. The things my heart aches for that I know will never be because they are not meant for me, they are meant for someone else.

Jesus is certainly enough for me in this life. In fact, there have been moments in my life that the Hope of Jesus is all that I could find to cling to.

But I fully believe God did not create us to simply acquiesce to the here and now. Hope and vision for the future are built into our DNA. We wait expectantly for the coming of Jesus while being faithful to the work He has for us today.

Be steadfast, friends, and look for Him in the here and now, and you will find Him. Seek the next best step from Him, however small, and He will show it to you. And most importantly bask in the goodness of the now and in all of the richness that simply being with your Savoir can bring.

“Heal my heart and make it clean

Open up my eyes to the things unseen

Show me how to love like You have loved me

Break my heart for what breaks Yours

Everything I am for Your kingdom’s cause

As I walk from earth into eternity”

These words from Hillsong’s “Hosanna” reverberated from the walls of a small school cafeteria full of people seeking Jesus in Oakdale this morning. 

God was already working in my heart to do just that before those words even left my mouth this morning as I sang along on worship team. 

Yesterday morning I ran through my normal Saturday routine of waking up, getting ready, stopping by the post office to pick up my mail, and heading to a nearby coffee shop to meet some of the best women I know to dive into God’s Word. 

I happened to arrive a little earlier than normal and the men’s Bible study was still hanging out, so I ordered my coffee and breakfast and had a seat at a smaller table to kill some time before the women took over our normal table. 

I opened up Facebook for what I thought would be a mindless scroll, and I ran across an article about a 5-year-old boy who was thrown from the 3rd floor of the Mall of America by a random man. There wasn’t much information at that point, because authorities still were unclear on many details. Normally I would read the article, think something like, “Oh that’s so sad” and move on, but for some reason, I was prompted to delve further. 

I looked up several different articles and then unwittingly dove into the comments section on Facebook. People were commenting that they were praying for the young boy and his family, for healing and peace and comfort, because of course they were – they need those prayers! 

What really struck me was the comments about the young man (24 years old) who allegedly was the one who threw the boy. Comments abounding regarding what an evil person he was, and how could someone do that?, and even more vengeful comments suggesting people violently take matters into their own hands. In that moment, I felt convicted to pray for that man. So that’s what I did throughout the rest of the day.

This morning, as our setup team for our little plant church gathered for prayer, I just felt so strongly to request that we pray for this man (and of course the boy and his family), and as I started talking about how this man was a creation of God and needed healing and Jesus just as much as any of us, tears flowed uncontrollably from my eyes. It took me by surprise, but I knew that it was the Holy Spirit working in me. 

The rest of the morning I was a mess – crying during prayer and when anyone asked me how I was doing, and then people saw me crying and would ask if I was okay and it would start all over again – all God breaking my heart for what breaks His. Opening up my eyes to the things unseen. Showing me how to love like He has loved me. 

It brought to mind the story of Jesus and the adulterous woman. The Pharisees see Jesus teaching and bring to him a woman who had been caught in adultery: 

“Teacher,” they said to Jesus, “this woman was caught in the act of adultery. The law of Moses says to stone her. What do you say?” They were trying to trap him into saying something they could use against him, but Jesus stooped down and wrote in the dust with his finger. They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!” Then he stooped down again and wrote in the dust. When the accusers heard this, they slipped away one by one, beginning with the oldest, until only Jesus was left in the middle of the crowd with the woman. Then Jesus stood up again and said to the woman, “Where are your accusers? Didn’t even one of them condemn you?” “No, Lord,” she said. And Jesus said, “Neither do I. Go and sin no more.”

Who are any of us to cast a stone at this MOA man? Who are we to cast a stone at anyone? Each sin deserves death and punishment regardless of the severity to the human eye. Each human is a creation of God, made in His image and that’s who Jesus came for – everyone. 

None of us deserves Salvation. And yet we have it through the life, blood, death, and resurrection of Jesus – something that we take the time to reflect on and celebrate this last week of Lent. 

That man at the Mall of America could be any of us, one snap or mental health breakdown from wreaking havoc on another life, community, or ourselves.

Before we throw stones this week, let us ask ourselves if that person could use prayer. If they could use love and an encouraging word instead of ridicule and condemnation. If they need Jesus. Because couldn’t we all?

As soon as the first snow falls near the end of the year, I am waiting for Winter to be over. 

I trudge through the subsequent months trying to remember what it was like in the summer, complaining about the weather and the traffic and about having to take the dog out (who, for the record, also hates Winter), and the extra effort to do literally anything.

I spend 5-6 months of my year miserably waiting for it all to be over, and this year I looked back and realized that I spent all of that time grumbling and wishing the days away. 

It got me thinking about how much I do this with other parts of my life. How often am I just waiting for something to be over, or to happen, or to start? Am I looking around for what’s good now? For what God is doing now? What does God show us about Redemption through the snow? How does the cold serve a purpose for its time? (Someone please answer that last question because I genuinely do not understand.)

What might be different about my situation if I chose to rejoice in the here and now? Nothing. Nothing would be different or change about what is happening around, to, because of me. But my attitude and outlook would be different. My eyes would be open to see the good God had for me now and the reason he has me just where I am. 

I can’t go back and change where I began and my negative attitudes of the past, but I have daily chances to wake up, receive new mercies from my Creator and Savior and rejoice where I am now. I will fail, but God will not, and at the end of the day if I feel I have nothing else to rejoice about, I know I can delight in that assurance. All I can do is Wait. Trust. Hope. And so can you.