There is darkness in me, of this I am sure. 

I know it is there when I lash out in frustration at a close friend or when I choose to use my time and efforts on things that do not glorify God. Perhaps you’re thinking of your darkness, right now. 

It is a darkness that I have carried with me my entire life. A condition with which I was born. That, on this earth, I will never fully overcome. 

And yet…

There is light in me. I know this to be true. 

A light that makes the darkness recoil and hide. That covers over the darkness and makes it afraid to rear its ugly head. 

There will be a day when the light will be all that is in me, a victory over the darkness that has already been won. 

Until then, I will fight the darkness with the light I have been given. A light that will never leave or forsake me, even when the darkness feels it might overtake me. 

This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. This little light of mine, is not just for me, but for you, too. 

“This is the message we have heard from him and declare to you: God is light; in him there is no darkness at all. If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth. But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin. If we claim to be without sin, we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.” — 1 John 1:5-9

Remember when you graduated high school and/or college? The question that you heard over and over again?

“So, what’s next?”

It seems that our culture is obsessed with knowing what is going to happen next or when it going to happen. You start dating someone and they ask, “When are you getting engaged?”. You get engaged and they ask, “When are you getting married? When are you having kids?”, etcetera, etcetera.  It never ends.

Maybe you didn’t dread this question like I did. Maybe you had a clear answer and goal for what was going to happen next. Personally, I don’t always know. And, it seems like when I do have an answer, God inevitably leads me somewhere completely different.

I don’t think God doesn’t want us to have hopes, dreams, or goals. I think that he values these things and that often he places them on our heart. But he wants our hearts first and foremost.

And, wherever our hearts are, he meets us there.

Not in the “So, what’s next?” (though he is there, too), but in the now-moments that we too often forget to revel in, to praise Him in. We forget that he is willing to meet us here, where we are broken and needy, not where we have it together and are all cleaned up.

This goes all the way back to Adam and Eve. After The Fall, Adam and Eve realized they were naked and were ashamed (Genesis 3:7). God saw them hiding and while His heart was saddened by the fact that they now felt shame, he fashioned clothes for them to cover themselves (Genesis 3:21). He met them in their shame of their nakedness and provided for them right then and there. Even after they failed Him in the one thing that He asked of them.

So, friends, dream your dreams and plan your “So, what’s next? But remember, that God meets you right here, right now regardless of the state you are in.

Ask yourself, “How did God provide today? What do I have to be thankful for? Where is God in the here and now?” and I believe He will begin to change your perspective on your “What’s next?”.

At one of my Bible studies, recently, someone used the phrase, “Don’t look back at Egypt”. At the time, I was moved by this because it was referring to how after the Israelites left Egypt they kept looking back and saying “Remember how good we had it? Remember the food and the comfort?”. But they had forgotten that they were in SLAVERY. That they were bound under Pharaoh in a land and a life with no opportunity to freely serve and worship their God. How ungrateful were they?! How ungrateful am I?

I thought about how often I look back on the things of the past and long for them, thinking about how good those times were, and how happy I was, or how easy my life was.

I was reminded of this scrolling past the many New Year’s posts yesterday about leaving 2017 behind and forgetting the past and looking forward to what is to come. And, to some degree, this is what God asks us to do. He tells us in Isaiah 43:18-19 to “Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.”

God is renewing us day by day (1 Corinthians 4:16) and His mercies are new each morning (Lamentations 3:22-23). We don’t need to look back on our past failures, and he does not want us to long for a life that is past, but to be present with Him in the here and now and be perceptive to what he is doing.

But I don’t believe that he wants us to forget everything.

One of the many things that Israelites failed at (and we do, too, I am afraid), was remembering the incredible things that God had done for them. How he brought down miracles to redeem them from slavery, how he made the impossible possible, how he fed and provided water for them in the midst of the desert. How he led them where they needed to go with a pillar of cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. How he was with them every single step of the way.

And this, my friends, is what I urge us to not forget about and leave behind in 2017. What did God do? Where did he show up? How did he show you that he was with you every step of the way?

Do not dwell on the past, but cling tightly to the small whispers and big nudges from God so that when he does them again in 2018, you will be able to see them with clearer, wiser eyes.

“I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.” — Psalm 77:11

Mary winced as the donkey made its way through the crowds of Bethlehem, bumping into what felt like everything and everyone along the way. She was hot, she was tired and they still needed to find a place to stay for the night.

The streets were packed with families just like hers, coming to and leaving from Bethlehem to be counted in the census. People chattering, children laughing, children crying, animals lowing with confusion and frustration.

She looked over at her soon to be husband, Joseph. Sweet Joseph. Who walked beside her and the donkey the entire way to Bethlehem to make sure that she and the baby were comfortable, safe, and rested. She smiled to herself, grateful for the kind, thoughtful, honorable man with whom she would spend the rest of her life.

That’s when she felt it. The first labor pain. She let out a small sound of discomfort, and immediately Joseph was at her side, asking her what was wrong. It was amazing that he could have heard it at all amidst everything that was going on on this overcrowded Bethlehem street.

Immediately Joseph went into action. He began stopping at every place he could think of that they might be able to spend the night. Each and every place was full. Full of noisy, laughing, safe, comfortable people who had a place to rest their heads for the night.

They walked up to the last Inn they could think of, and Joseph walked into a room packed with people, so loud he could barely hear himself think. The innkeeper shook his head and Joseph hung his head in defeat. He began to walk away but felt the innkeepers hand on his shoulder, stopping him. There was an open stable in the barn attached to the inn – it wasn’t much but they could have it if they really needed.

Joseph’s mind reeled. Is this where the Savior was to be born? Is this what he had to subject his bride to? Giving birth in a place where animals ate, slept, and – well he didn’t want to think about it. It was something and Mary’s discomfort was growing every minute.

He met Mary back on the street and led her and the donkey around the side of the inn into the stable the innkeeper described. Joseph looked at Mary, seeking her approval, and she smiled sweetly at him grateful to be stepping down from the donkey after their long journey.

The barn was anything but peaceful. A cacophony of animals going about their business – donkeys braying, sheep bleating, horses snorting, dogs howling, mice squeaking.

And, now, a young mother giving birth to the savior of the world. The Savior of those same people who bumped into Mary’s donkey, the same people who turned them away from their homes and inns, the same people who ate and drank in comfort while a helpless young woman was in labor.

A Savior. A King born in a stable. A holy child laid in a manger. A wild contrast to the royal birth he deserved.

Mary looked at her son, God’s Son – crying, whimpering as he entered the presence of the very sin he would one day redeem with his blood. Of course, Mary did not know this. She could only think of the life ahead of them as they raised God’s one and only Son.

Mary laid her exhausted head down on a bed of hay, closed her weary eyes, and fell asleep amidst the bustle on the street, the chatter in the inn, the commotion of animals, and the crying of her baby.

A not so silent, not so calm, but a very Holy night.

I had a conversation with a friend at church this morning about my lack of ability to dream. I don’t do a lot of dreaming these days. I used to. I used to have a dream job and a dream about what my life might look like in 3-5 years.

But, God had different dreams for me.

He revealed to me options that I never would have thought existed and led me along paths that I would never have taken on my own. When I got to those temporary destinations, I was able to look back and see the bigger picture of how each step led me to where I was in a perfect, deliberate way that only God himself could ordain.

I see this experience reflected in the way that I “dream” now. I don’t look too far ahead. I’ll get too overwhelmed or assume that those big dreams could never happen. Because so many of mine in the past have not.

God knows this about me. Instead, he gently, and slowly reveals small steps and little opportunities that lead me to where he wants me (or doesn’t want me) to go next. He might give me a small glimpse of the future but knows better than to reveal it all to me at once.

When I am staying faithful in prayer about the things that he has placed on my heart, he moves. He knows I am listening and knows that he has His door to begin his work in me. It might seem slow, but I know that I won’t lose sight of Him and His big dream.

I don’t believe that God needs me to be on board. If he wanted something to happen – he would make it happen with or without me. But throughout history, we have evidence of God choosing to use broken, unprepared people, and I believe that he wants me to be on board.

Now, I dream under God’s direction. What I truly dream and desire is to follow Jesus, and do God’s will by the help of the Holy Spirit. I want nothing apart from that. I might not always know what that looks like in the long run. I might not always look like I have it together or have a direction, but God is my guidepost and I trust in Him to reveal each step to me along the way.

Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you saying, “This is the way; walk in it.” — Isaiah 30:21

Remember when making new friends was simple? You met someone in your class at school and you both had a Lisa Frank folder and you were instant BFFs, spending all of your time together at recess, going over to each other’s houses for play dates and sleepovers.

As you get older you get more choosy with your friends. You start to talk about deeper things with them like your future, your crush, issues at home or with other friends. People who you thought would be in your life forever drift away, forging their own paths in life.

I have had the privilege throughout the last 29 years to come across some incredible human beings. People who have laughed with me, supported me, encouraged me, and loved me. Different chapters of my life have provided an array of characters into my life. Some of them have stayed, and sometimes, we drift our separate ways, living separate lives, still having love for one another, but settling more and more into our new chapters.

I have found that the older I become the more choosy I become with my time. There are people that I see weekly, others fewer than that, and even others fewer still.

This makes investing in new relationships tricky. I love meeting new people, but I struggle to get past the well-meaning and friendly, but idle small talk. I want to get to the heart of who they are, what makes them tick, what their passions are, but sometimes that’s too much for people, and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable. So, I fall back to my people; the ones I see all the time and who will go deep with me.

But, if I look at how Jesus went into relationship with other people, he blew straight past any idle talk, or social norms. He cut straight to the heart. Asked the hard questions. Take the story of the Samaritan woman at the well in John 4.

Now Jesus learned that the Pharisees had heard that he was gaining and baptizing more disciples than John— although in fact it was not Jesus who baptized, but his disciples. So he left Judea and went back once more to Galilee.

Now he had to go through Samaria. So he came to a town in Samaria called Sychar, near the plot of ground Jacob had given to his son Joseph. Jacob’s well was there, and Jesus, tired as he was from the journey, sat down by the well. It was about noon.

When a Samaritan woman came to draw water, Jesus said to her, “Will you give me a drink?” (His disciples had gone into the town to buy food.)

The Samaritan woman said to him, “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)

Jesus answered her, “If you knew the gift of God and who it is that asks you for a drink, you would have asked him and he would have given you living water.”

“Sir,” the woman said, “you have nothing to draw with and the well is deep. Where can you get this living water? ¹² Are you greater than our father Jacob, who gave us the well and drank from it himself, as did also his sons and his livestock?”

Jesus answered, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

The woman said to him, “Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.”

He told her, “Go, call your husband and come back.”

“I have no husband,” she replied.

Jesus said to her, “You are right when you say you have no husband. The fact is, you have had five husbands, and the man you now have is not your husband. What you have just said is quite true.”

I mean come on. This guy went straight in. No pleasantries. Immediately disregarding social norms that Jews shouldn’t talk with Samaritans and that men should not talk to a woman in public.

I believe that Jesus wants this out of our relationships, too. He desires to see a community truly sharing life with one another and loving on each other in real, authentic ways.

Friends, how can we push through the social norms of our society, to the heart of people? People whom Jesus loves and beat death for. I know I’ll be praying about this, and I’ll be praying that you do, too.

As winter slowly creeps in, the animals hide away or flee completely, and plants and trees wither, dormant for the harsh months ahead; a reflective mood begins to take over my mind. I cannot help but wonder about the things of the past and the possibilities of the future.

When snow begins to flurry, nostalgic warmth covers my heart. A feeling that is not connected to any particular memory or holiday, but instead one that encompasses all of the happy feelings of the past.

There is something purposeful about how the world goes to sleep during the winter, only to bloom in fragrant beauty when Spring comes again.

Our hearts need that time, too. The time to lie dormant, restful, while cold winds of the past sneak up on us, causing us to shudder and soft snow blankets us, protecting our hearts for what is next.

But as in Winter, we wait expectantly for Spring, we can wait in the same eager anticipation for our hearts to thaw and life to Spring forth.

God has not forgotten about your heart, my friend with the dormant, wintery heart. Immerse yourself in this time of rest and reflection. pressing into him, letting him cover you with the soft, beautiful snow of his love.

It won’t be easy. There will be icy moments, and times when everything takes just a little more out of you to get from one place to the next. But when Spring rises from the once cold ground, it will all have been worth it. The sights, colors, and smells that surround you will be even more magnificent because you’ve rested in Him, earnest for it to come.