Little Nuggets of Wisdom.

Day 3: Pass on some useful advice or information you learned and always remembered. 

Welcome back for Day 3! Here I am. I made it back.

I think the single most incredible piece of advice I've ever been given came from my big "sister":

"just remember bethany that any kind of comparison is an indication of pride" 

If you're talking about something I've never been able to forget OR get out of my head, that's it. BUT it also requires so much more explanation and unpacking than I'm doing in Blogtember....plus, I already kind of blogged about it here ;) So feel free to hop on over! 

Otherwise, I'm gonna claim the one below, because it's definitely one of my favorites! And it calls me to look for the deeper good within days that on the surface seem pretty meh :) 

{source}

Welcome to the Blogtember Family! 

Move-In Eve: Two Years Later.

‘The new Impact 360 class is moving in tomorrow.’

I had to stand in the middle of my room, letting the thought scroll through my head. Pause long enough to stand still and really think about it. It was so hard to wrap my mind around that I decided to say it out loud, hoping maybe hearing the words would help them make a little bit more sense.

“The new Impact 360 class is moving in tomorrow.”

I cocked my head to the side and rolled the words around in my mouth, the taste strange and a little bit foreign. Maybe a tad slower?

“The new Impact 360 class is moving in. To Impact. tomorrow.”

The words echoed and seemed to grow in volume as they bounced around the very undecorated walls of a stereo-typical, cookie cutter, white walled college dorm room. I sighed and sat down in the roommates chair, head in my hands. None of this was helping. I could hear laughter out in the hall, and out the window two people walked by, hand in hand silhouettes. Life carried on and the minutes ticked by and no one else seemed to realize that I was in the middle of an emotional, mental, spiritual crisis.

THE NEW IMPACT 360 CLASS WAS MOVING IN TOMORROW.

One year this same thing had happened…a handful of strangers had walked into the doorway of my Eden, and crushed our memories into the foundational gravel they needed to make their own. They’d stepped hesitatingly into the great unknown, completely unaware that we had already walked there and left our marks on benches and our initials carved into the dark corners of trees that boasted whispered secrets you’d had to crouch to hear. They’d moved through rooms and not noticed the smiles, moments and memories, hands held in secrets that the walls had soaked in and held quiet. They’d put head to pillows, night after night, blissfully ignorant of the year worth of tears that same soft lump had soaked up mere months ago.

And I hadn’t remembered until I saw the Instagram of their first hall meeting late that night.

Call it crazy, call it selfish, because when strangers move into your home shouldn’t you realize it? But I didn’t. I’d kept moving because it was hard enough putting one foot in front of another in this new path in South Carolina, without thinking about the fact that I COULDN’T go back. I’d focused on the promise that the sun would rise in the morning and set at night, and when I got through that day I put my head on the pillow and prayed the same thing would happen the next. By the time I had a whole slew of days behind me, having a new little family to partly call mine seemed almost natural…the fact that they had taken home & made it theirs seemed like something to celebrate, not mourn! Visiting meant open arms and curious smiles, new friends to be made, new stories to hear, new lives to be explored.

But this year it’s a little bit different, and as my head leaned on roommate’s desk I was unable to escape the fact that I’d finally come face to face with the difference. My eyes scanned a college dorm room that was not mine no matter how hard I tried to make it so or how many times I tried to pretend that it was, and at the same time my heart cried deep in my chest that this wasn’t home, and could we please, please go back to what was?

Because after a year and a half of walking through life, I’m tired of not belonging. I’m tired of stretching so far from sanctuary. I’m tired of life continuing with no way for me to slow it down or make it stop, and I’m tired of relationships that stretch to their breaking point only to snap back just in time to make you smile and cry all at the same time. I’m tired of my heart being broken into different pieces and never feeling like they’ll all be in the same place again.

I’m sad that I walked out of Eden, and was too stubborn to even turn around to watch the gates shut behind me.

But how do you explain that to a bouncing, bubbling class of freshmen that have their whole lives ahead of them?

“Um, excuse me, but what you don’t know is this is mine?” “You’ll never be able to appreciate this quite as much as I did?” “Life is moving slowly and things aren’t working out like I planned, so please take your happiness and make memories elsewhere because I’m going to try and crawl my way back to the last time I fully felt at home?”

You can’t.

You can’t tell the littles to hug their families hard, because no matter how many times you refuse to admit it, in about a month Momma’s smile and Daddy’s arms are going to feel like the oasis in the desert you’re too far away from. You can’t tell them not to rush into pretending that they love their roommates when they’re really not sure, because pretending doesn’t help anything and walking through the fire with someone you don’t trust only means more walls when you need less. You can’t tell them not to rush to May, because running means you fall easier and once you cross the finish line there’s no way to take back all the nights you should have walked away from or relive the days you should have been a little more open minded about. You can’t tell them to put down the telephone and pick up the Bible, and no sweetie I know he seems like the best thing but I promise Jesus is better.

And somewhere in the midst of all this crazy heart knot, I find half of me wanting to help them and half of me wanting to be them.

I didn’t want to be the last class….I wanted to run away from memories and pain and hurt and futures that said not right now and whispered maybe not ever. And now in the midst of white walls and open roads, I’m beginning to realize that the future is a lot scarier than I ever thought it would be, and who did I think I was kidding when I said coming back didn’t scare me?

I want to relive it…and I’ve never understood the people who said they would relive it differently. I could stand up and preach change and pretend regret, but the truth is if I went back in one way or another I’d make the same mistakes all over again. Because no matter how much I try to keep it at an arms length, my heart wants community the same way it did 2 years ago. It wants a smiling face and flannel clad arms and late nights when the rest of the world faded and for the first time in my life I belonged to someone and something I could come home to. It wants rest and peace and the quiet of an untouched garden, because no matter how much the garden is temporary, staying is security and leaving is NOT.

And coming boldly before an all gracious yet all powerful Savior is something I have yet to learn how to do.

And I think the balance here is somehow realizing how to set contentment in the God who created Eden, not the people who reflected Him within it. But I haven’t learned how to do that yet, and it’s something He’s teaching that my heart doesn’t want to learn all the time. Because no matter how excited I get thinking about new depths and new heights, I’ve trod the old ones and know all the potholes. I know the stumbling blocks to avoid and the places where the path walks easy. I know when the rocks rip through tender, bare souled feet, and where the grass soothes in a cool breeze. I know the path. I’m comfortable because I know it well enough not to need somebody to walk alongside me and tell me when to duck, when to step over the puddles, and which berries are poisonous and which taste like summer.

And somewhere in the midst of comfort is a God that calls me out of it in His infinite goodness and I’m not ready for that and He knows it. And I think in a lot of ways He laughs just a little bit, because the thought of me realizing I need Him is delightful, and the thought of His growing girl grabbing His hand because she’s still scared of thunder storms is exciting, and the idea of a “big” girl realizing she really DOES always need her Daddy is something He’s been waiting for me to realize for a very, very, very long time. 

Back for Round 2!

WE'RE BACK! Back in college, back in our niche, back in the roommates life, back to ridiculousness, back to making new friends, back to learning how to manage relationships near & far, back to worshiping together in chapel, back to this section of life the Lord has us in now.

After a long and glorious weekend trekking through downtown Savannah (including the of-course-we-must-go-there lunch trip to the Pirates House) Momma and I pulled into CIU at 9:00 Monday morning. This past week has been a crazy rush of figuring out classes, unpacking boxes (yes, it took me the whole week guys) running for textbooks, already pre-planning roommates weekend IN Savannah this coming April, and a LOT of class reading. It's been chaotic, crazy, and at times more than a little overwhelming. And after sitting through this first week [and weekend] we've come to a half exciting, half scary conclusion.

Sophomore year is going to be hard. 

In every sense of the word.

It's going to be hard mentally. Classes are harder, and we're growing up. Things aren't as set in stone as they used to be...and some things I've held to as Gospel since I was little I'm beginning to realize aren't. 

It's going to be hard emotionally. There's relationships walking into our lives and some walking out, and both are difficult to deal with. Within the first 48 hours we've been at school, I've already had one teary, heart heavy, Lord why do you have me here, night. 

It's going to be hard physically. I was in bed at 11:30 Thursday night. 11:30 guys. That never happens...not unless I'm sick, dead, or have stayed up sunset to sunrise several nights in a row. But there I was, snuggled in, falling asleep before midnight. Why? There's more homework, workouts, classes, meals, friends, relationships, and growth to be done than there are hours in the day to do it. 

Of course it's going to be difficult spiritually. I haven't had a year yet that hasn't had some trial somehow, in some way. Which in a weird way, is something to be thankful for...because when you stop learning & stretching, it's this kind of crazy coincidence that you also stop growing. And God doesn't deal in stagnancy. 

In the midst of all this crazy God has already been faithful to meet all of us, me especially, exactly where I am. 3 themes that seem to have traveled repeatedly through classes, chapel and life this week are contentment, faith, and the idea that God consistently brings you to situations that overwhelm you so you are constantly reminded on whose strength you stand and depend. 

Contentment is something I've struggled with for a while, and something that really came to a head this summer as I was home. I've been blessed with a beautiful family, beautiful home, beautiful friends, and not much to ask for or complain about. But I am, and always have been, home to a restless heart that looks to much to fast to the future, and spends not enough time in the present....which is hard when God places you in the midst of what can only be described as a long period of waiting and training. And I've always heard my entire life, whether from well meaning peers or adults, "Don't worry, honey. God's never gonna give you more than you can handle." Have I been guilty of drawing comfort from that? Absolutely. But is it true? Nope. 

As I've grown and watched life happen, and especially as I've walked into my second year at CIU, I've realized that God delights in giving us more than we can handle...because let's be honest. If you're not called to higher heights than you can reach, how are you ever going to grow? It happens in sports (and life) all the time. Coaches ask for more miles, teachers push for better grades, God asks for greater faith...because when goals stay at levels you can reach, achieving them brings no improvement, no growth, and ultimately no glory. 

So here's me tipping my hat to this upcoming year....and openly admitting that I'm actually kind of excited for the hard mixed in with all the good! Because trials mean growth and frustration brings forgiveness and ultimately tears at nighttime bring joy in the morning :) 

Also there's a nerdy, book happy, oh my gosh I LOVE MY CLASSES post coming. Cause I got good ones this year guys. BUT REALLY. 

Where Will I Be [When]?

Every summer I fall into the "I wonder where I'll be this time next summer" trap...because I'm nostalgic & sentimental & far to often find myself hoping God will finally put me where I want to be instead of being content where He has me. So, I play the 'picture my life' game. Because sometimes planning my way in the future wedding with my currently non-existent husband naming our suspiciously absent children while I pretend to buy clothes for my not yet achieved counseling job is easier than realizing that right now I'm in a season of learning, training and growing. And that God's got me here for a reason.

Because every time I let myself think "well maybe I'll be here" there's a baby bit of my brain that hopes maybe I will be. And when a year goes by and I'm not as in shape as I want to be, or with the boy I want to be with, or in the job I want to be working....there's a piece of my heart that goes "Lord, how long are you going to make me wait?" And I grumble and complain and let myself get a little more discontent (even if it's just in my heart) because I've spent the last year working myself up to a goal that the Lord never intended me to reach in the first place.

Which, to be honest, is kind of funny. Because every time I look back at a year ago, I'm overwhelmed with this incredible rush of thanksgiving that God doesn't let me plan my life....because He's got better plans, places, people and peace in store for me than I could even imagine at the beginning of my wonderings :) So I suppose here's my plug for God's faithfulness yet again...and a typed out, published reminder to myself not to try and plan out my life before I consult the one who's ultimately planning it for me :)

Enjoy this picture of the Hawaiian white sands....aka possibly in the running for one of my new favorite places :) I'm off to watch the Woman in Black with my family....which I think is an awful life decision, considering I barely survived watching it the first time. But this was DannyBug's movie request, so crossing my fingers I get to sleep tonight. In case you haven't learned this about me yet, I don't do scary movies well. AT ALL. But, in the positive hopes that I actually make it, have a wonderful day and I'll see ya'll soon! :)

day 18: our monster.

An update on Momma: For those who don't know, Momma Stewart was scheduled to have back surgery this morning. I say it was 'not a big deal' kind of jokingly, because any sort of surgery is a pretty big deal when you're not the doctor or the patient, you're the one sitting in the waiting room on uncomfortable hospital chairs waiting for any sort of news. That was my Daddy today :) Momma's surgeon was called in on a trauma case that (for obvious reasons) took precedence over Momma, so her surgery got started 2-3 hours late. But at the end of the day, it is done, successful, and she is coming home we're praying pain free :) Thank you for your prayers and support. We appreciate it so much! 

I include the picture because...

(1) it's beautiful

(2) my mind has been screaming 'GO FOR OPEN WATER!!!' all day. so. 

.....but it has nothing to do with today's blog post. 

Onward! 

Today's blog prompt is a quote, and initially I was going to save it because I wanted to think really hard before I wrote about it. But in the light of phone conversations and the fact that I really just miss the lovely who gave it to me, I'm going to give it a shot :) And the quote it: 

"Vice is a monster of so frightful mien, as to be hated needs but to be seen. Yet seen too oft, familiar with her face, we first endure, then pity, then embrace." 

- Alexander Pope, An Essay on Man - 

My first thought upon encountering this quote was 'huh?' My second was Shakespeare, books I read to enjoy...but not to understand. But as I read it, and read it, and then read it again, I realized with startling clarity that it's not just a quote that sounds good or insightful....it's a 2 line glimpse at the creeping power of sin in the human heart. And that's scary. 

Humans are the most unsettled creatures on Earth. We claim stability and unshakable beliefs, with hearts that are uncertain and accommodating. Expose us to anything long enough, and eventually we will become hardened and desensitized to it. Remember when you saw a couple kiss in the movies for the first time? You blushed and stammered, eyes scanning the room for anything else to focus on. You were uncomfortable. Today we've seen it so many times that even people in bed barely merits a shift of the eyes or a knowing look at a friend. The sacred has become commonplace....the forbidden the norm. 

Sin is a monster we're forced to approach every day of our lives. Upon our first encounter with a 'vice', we're disgusted. "I'd never do something like that." or "I would never be one of those people." We fall into a trap of judgement, lined with a lack of understanding how anyone could ever do something quite that perverse. But when we're exposed to it daily, we lose some of that sensitivity. We shift slowly from "I would never" to "I wouldn't....but he can". We move from horror, to accommodation, to understanding, to sympathizing, to justifying. "I'm not going to live that kind of lifestyle...but I guess he can if he wants." Somewhere along the lines we take a wrong turn and find ourselves on a road paved with good intentions, instead of truth and life. And life stories start to reflect the former good intentions of four little words: but i never planned.... 

The teenager just experimenting with her friends never planned to become homosexual.

The man offering coffee to his beautiful coworker never planned to have an affair. 

The woman going out for a drink after a discouraging night at home never planned to become an alcoholic.

The highschooler learning the ins and outs of poker for the first time never planned to gamble the rest of his savings away. 

Sin is enticing, addicting and powerful. It flies in the face of a perfect, HOLY God, who deemed it serious enough to send His own son to die one of the most painful deaths on planet Earth, because it was the only sacrifice powerful enough to release us from sin's power and eternal consequences. And yet we reason it away and shut down our hearts to the hurt and brokenness because "if everyone's doing it, it must be okay". 

The wages of sin is death. The fact that it saturates the world we live in today doesn't lessen it's power, or soften the consequences. It simply means more and more people will face them. 

And I pray that in the face of a hurting and broken world, we Christians would have heart that reflects Christ's love and suffering. That we would see lost people for what they are: slaves crushed and emptied by a power far greater than their own. That we would remember that it is only by Christ's grace that our own chains have been broken and we have been set free, and because of this our lives are no longer our own to do whatever we wish with them. 

And that we would never have such a superficial view of sin that we would use "but it's her life and i tried" as an excuse to turn our backs on a hurting soul. 

day 9: hell on Earth.

I'm gonna go ahead and dive straight into this one, because it's probably going to end up being on the longer side. The word of the day is: .hell. And to just go ahead and be really, really clear, I don't have anything theological or ridiculously profound to say about this subject. I was raised in a Bible Church that taught us in elementary school Sunday School that going to hell meant we were going to burn alive for the rest of eternity, which was terrifying for me because growing up my biggest fear was that my house would spontaneously catch fire, and I would burn alive caught inside. When I got older and could actually grasp the concept, I was taught that what hell actually meant was "eternal separation from God", which I'll confess didn't mean much to me. I was saved young, and if you've heard my testimony you know that a huge struggle of mine early on was understanding the Gospel because I didn't understand what Jesus was saving me from. I was a "good" kid. So instead of trying to drudge up something meaningful to say about what hell is, I'm going to tell a story.

In January of 2012, my class of Impact 360-ers packed up and flew to Brazil for a month on a missions trip. If you've been on this blog for a little while and somehow missed my connection to Impact 360 & the people there, ask me about it. It's a different story for a different time, but one I would love to tell. But anyways. A week into the trip our team split in half, with half of us going to host camp at Porto Alegre, and the other half flying out to Florianopolis [a smaller town on the beach] to host VBS and do repair work for local churches. To make a longer story short, the trip was hard. It was emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually draining. HARD. 

Our third week there we drove out to the Cadi, a organization that took kids in from the surrounding pavelas (slums) and kept an eye on them, making sure they were fed, taken care of, and getting some sort of education. We got to host a VBS for these kids, as well as paint and restructure what would soon be one of their new classrooms. It was our last project in Florianopolis, and I can honestly say that starting the week I was ready to go home. 

The first night we worked in the Cadi we came back to our camp and had a team meeting. Going into the team meeting I was fine. And then suddenly, I wasn't. I don't know what happened or what snapped, but all of a sudden I felt unbelievably, ridiculously empty. At the time I tried to pass it off as exhaustion or sadness. I had had recent conversations, hard conversations with two very close friends of mine, neither of which had come to any sort of conclusion. However, as soon as I walked out of the main house I knew that wasn't it. I walked back down the hill with Payton, my roommate, and we sat down on some stairs outside of the rooms. She didn't ask me what was wrong, she just started to play guitar. Eventually a handful of our friends wandered over and we had an impromptu worship session, something that was somewhat of a habit for us. I stared off into space for what I thought was 5 or 10 minutes, and was later informed was more like an hour. Eventually it got late and since we had a full day of work tomorrow everyone headed off to bed. Kartwright walked over to me and tried to get me to talk for a few minutes, before finally taking a few steps back. He finally sighed, wished me goodnight, and walked off. As soon as he shut his door, I broke. 

I have cried before, but this was sobbing. I mean bent at the waist, doubled over, body shaking, hit the ground because you can't hold yourself up anymore sobbing. I was curled up in a ball at the foot of the stairs, gasping for air because I couldn't take breaths big enough to keep me oxygenated before I started crying again. The only 2 people up besides me were our leader and a girl he was talking to on the other side of the stairs....other than that, I was completely alone. 

Let me say this. I can't say for sure that I know what it feels like to have your soul ripped from the one who created it...forever. But that night, I'm pretty sure I got a piece. See, that entire trip I spent frustrated because I couldn't understand the Gospel. I couldn't understand why this one message made people cry and run forward and break in the middle of their lessons. I didn't understand the need, the unquenchable longing in your heart for something that only God could truly fulfill. I didn't understand what it was to be empty. But laying there that night on the stairs, too weak to pick myself up and walk to my room, I finally understood. I cried outside for half an hour, begging God to do something, anything to show me that He cared. I didn't care if that was a shooting star, a voice, a miracle, or just someone coming outside to hug me. I was begging for anything. Never in my LIFE have I felt so alone. I never doubted that God was there...I only doubted that He cared. I knew that He heard me...I couldn't understand why He wasn't reaching me out and putting the jagged edges of my heart back together. It was like I could see Him, feel Him, watching me across the darkness, completely unresponsive to my grief, pain and heartbreak. I have never felt so meaningless, worthless, hopeless, and unbelievably devoid of life. 

I don't know what Hell will look like, feel like, or entail. But if being separated from the Lord eternally feels anything like that night, I have never been more thankful for Christ OR the Gospel. The awareness of my need for a Savior, for hope and meaning and life has never been more apparent to me than in those 2 hours I spent listening to music and crying my eyes out. I went into Brazil begging that God would help me understand the Gospel, and He did. He just took me the painful, I promise after this you won't ever forget what I did for you, route. And just so this story doesn't end on what seems to be an absolutely awful note:

I finally got to bed and told myself that everything would look better in the morning, because that's what I've heard all my life. It didn't look better in the morning. I was an absolute wreck and I was barely holding it together. Pam walked up to me just to ask me how I was doing, and I broke down and told her the whole thing. She, at a complete loss for what to say, prayed for me, hugged me, and put me on the bus off to the Cadi for the day. That day was the last day of VBS, and I was responsible for sharing the salvation bracelets with the kids, which basically meant I would stand up and tell the Gospel story, before finally closing with inviting them to pray the salvation prayer along with me. Needless to say, The Lord and I weren't on the best terms after last night. I didn't understand WHAT He was doing and I didn't want to share the Gospel. I felt like I couldn't. How could I share something I didn't understand? But I did it because I had too, and after finally getting through the story and bowing my head I invited the kids to pray along with me and started the prayer. 

Of the 90+ kids in that room that day, almost every single one of them repeated after me.

I don't know how many of them fully understood, and how many of them genuinely received Christ. But it was the final point of realization for me. Hearing almost 100 clear, beautiful voices praying to Jesus Christ in Portuguese, asking for salvation shot straight through my heart, and I broke for the Gospel for the first time. 

Of all my experiences in Brazil, this is the clearest :) The phrase "I'm thankful I'm not going to Hell" doesn't seem sufficient. It blows my mind. My soul DESERVES to go there....in my fallen, broken humanity, it's where I belong. But because I serve a God who loves to be glorified through His mercy, I will NEVER experience it. And for that, I am broken, undeserving, and indescribably thankful. 

day 4: doesn't God want me to be happy?

Today's prompt is hard, so I'll start by saying that I'm coming at this trying to figure it out while I'm also trying to communicate what I've learned so far. So...come a short way, with a long way to go. Also this is probably going to be on the longer side...but oh well :) For today's post I had a friend ask me what the Gospels said about happiness. So, this is my attempt to kind of answer that question :)

The world today has made happiness the ultimate end of everything. There is no sacrifice to great as long as you personally are comfortable, safe, pleased, content and, well, happy. Your boss treating you badly? Quit! (You can even put him in his place right before you do.) Marriage not working out? Spouse no longer the "soulmate" you thought they were? Well then quit that too! If you didn't find it this time, you'll find it next time. We live in a world that defines happiness by the circumstances and people we surround ourselves with...and we're taught to believe that trial, hardship, being pushed outside of our comfort zone, and having to work for anything, while sometimes necessary, is the exact opposite of this happiness that we're trying to obtain. We want to be comfortable. This has even leaked into modern cultural Christianity. Churches all over fill their auditoriums because people walk in Sunday mornings wanting to hear that Jesus wants them to be happy above all else, and justify their feeble attempts to get themselves there. We feel entitled to it....after all, don't I have a right to be happy? Doesn't God want me to be? 

If this is the kind of happiness you're looking for, then this blog post isn't gonna help much. THIS kind of happiness is never mentioned in the Gospels. In fact, the Gospels don't have much to say about happiness at all. In FACT, they seem to go the opposite way. 

"If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated Me first. If you belonged to the world it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you. Remember what I told you, 'a servant is not greater than his master'. If they persecuted me, they will persecute you also...." - John 15:18-20

"I am sending you out like sheep among wolves. Therefore be shrewd as snakes and innocent as doves...you will be hated by everyone because of me, but everyone who stands firm in the end will be saved." - Matthew 10:16&22 

The happiness the world seeks is fleeting and superficial. It depends on the fulfillment you are able to draw from the circumstances & people that you find yourself in and around. The human soul was not made for this life or this world....it was made for something far greater. True, lasting fulfillment can only be found in the person of Jesus Christ, and this leads to JOY...but not always happiness. The Christian walk is not always "fun" and Christians are not always "happy". The Apostles and the early church faced persecution, torture and even death because of their commitment to a Gospel that they held more important than anything else. 

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted....Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad,for your reward is great in heaven..." - Matthew 5: 3-4 & 10-12 

"So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light, momentary affliction is preparing us for an eternal weight of glory that is beyond all comparison, as we look not to things that are seen but to things that are unseen. For things that are seen are temporary, but things that are unseen are eternal." - 2 Corinthians 4:16-18

The last one was cheating a bit...technically it's not in the Gospels exactly. But I guess this is my encouragement :) For the Christian, joy [for all intents & purposes, let's call it LASTING happiness] is found not in our fleeting environments or circumstances, but in a Savior that is eternal, yet never changes, faithful not to our desires but to His promises, and sovereign over ALL. Jesus didn't die on a cross so you could be happy...He died on a cross so you could be His. So if you're asking about happiness in the Gospels, and you're looking for a verse that reads something along the lines of "Don't worry about what's right, Jesus wants you to be happy!" I'll make it really easy: it's not in there. We are not entitled to happiness. It's not a right that we can demand from God. He doesn't want you to be happy. He wants you to be free. Free from sin, free from death, and free from an eternity separated from Him. And no matter what the world promises, or how wonderful it seems, their agenda is to keep you so focused on the temporary 'happy' of now that you forget to look for the light of the world to come. 

Christ leaves us with a promise...that regardless of the pain & sadness His children experience on Earth, the joy and glory of an eternity spent in His presence will so VASTLY eclipse this temporary unhappiness, that everything we've gone to up until now will be worth it. :) There is no happiness in the Gospels, but there is joy. Unending joy. 

This was long, and if it made any sense it's a God thing. But I really hope it did :) 

day 3: question marks.

I think it's probably pretty safe to say that in the craziness that is my summer, 4:00 will probably be my right-around posting time :P

Alright! Another word today, this one from one of my very favorite people!

.questions.

Yep! The word is questions. Which is funny because anyone that knows me knows questions are my favorite things in the world. One of my best friends senior year and I had a running joke that I had the right to ask him one (ONLY one!) random question a day. It's just how I get to know people....I pretty much rapid fire as many questions as I can, and try to ask the questions that normal people don't :) 

However, as much as I like asking questions of other people, I hate having question marks on events in my own life. I don't like not knowing what to expect from the future...any kind of uncertainty or unknown is one of my least favorite things. It's been one of my hardest struggles with the Lord to date...the ability to let go and trust that God will provide answers to my questions in His time and not when I want them. I'm still not very good at it. 

If I HAD to pick one question that's consistently on the back of my mind more than others, it's probably when.....when will I find a job, when will I get to talk to that person, when will God finally clue me in on  His plan, when will I finally hear an answer to that prayer I've been praying forever....you get the idea ;) So questions for me are a struggle. I have a lot of 'why' and 'when' and 'what the heck is happening here'. But I can definitely say I have seen the biggest growth from my biggest struggle....and it's a weakness that God continually uses to draw me closer to Him! 

That's the favorite, if anyone's wondering. Her name is Hannah. 

She visits in 37 days.

We're excited.