Macbeth and Plasma Shield Theology

Martin Luther’s first thesis is this, “When our Lord Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent’ (Mt 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance.”
Though we have been saved from the penalty of sin, we have not been saved from sin itself. There is no promise of complete blindness to the temptations of the flesh, upon salvation. In fact, we are encouraged much to be aware of temptation and persevere through it (James 1, Matt 26:41, 1 Cor 10:13, Gal 6:1, 1 Peter 5:8-10)
Upon my salvation, I adopted a plasma shield theology: I believed that Jesus’ blood acted as a force keeping me repelled from temptation or further sin without my having to do a thing. My life suddenly became hakuna-matata and all was carefree, so long as I was loving the Lord. Unfortunately, I attended a church that preached this grace filled message without calling it plasma shield theology…I just like Halo.
This would make us completely oblivious to the broken world in which we live, fill us with a false sense of righteousness, and pull away from the beauty in God’s final judgment and redemption.
Isaiah 59 paints a beautiful, and honest, picture. In verse 1, we see the sad reflection of humanity, the reflection of a people who are devastatingly broken and completely immersed in sin.
“Surely the arm of the Lord is not too short to save, nor is his ear too dull to hear. But your iniquities have separated you from your God; your sins have hidden his face from you, so that he will not hear. Your hands are stained with blood, your fingers with guilt.” (v.1-3)
Sin is a heavy thing to contextually understand. It separates us from God. It removes the communion that our souls can share with him. It severs our intimate relationship. It blemishes our soul and breaks our divine purpose. It damns us to death.
Our sin is only satisfied with death.

Verse 3 makes me think of Macbeth every time I read this chapter.
In Act V Scene I, a paranoid Lady Macbeth, while examining her blood stained hands, speaks one of the most memorable lines from Shakespeare’s collection of plays:
“Out, damn’d spot! Out, I say!”
If you are unfamiliar with the plot of this story, I will try my best to give a brief, and adequate, description:
The play begins with Macbeth valiantly winning a war for his country, and the king praising him for his heroism. Macbeth opens his home to the king, and his wife, Lady Macbeth, begins to plant little seeds of “You’d be a much better king, honey.”
The two plot to murder the king while he sleeps.
Macbeth is hesitant to follow through, but Lady Macbeth gives him an encouraging pep-talk and all is go.
The king is murdered, and almost immediately after the act, Macbeth hears a voice (I believe it was the voice of the three witches, you know “Double, double, toil and trouble…”, yes, that is from this play) telling him that he will never know rest again.
Shaken, and slightly in disbelief that he has actually gone through with this horrendous plan, he runs back to Lady Macbeth to try and wash all the blood away before everyone breaks into pandemonium.
Macbeth becomes king (since the prince is M.I.A), but he and Lady Macbeth are plagued with paranoia. They are always seeing the blood on their hands, and the only way out of the madness is death. Lady Macbeth gets there more rapidly than her unfortunate husband; by the end of Act V, she has killed herself by jumping through a window.
As if Macbeth wasn’t already off his rocker, the mourning of his wife loosens his screws a little more. His life has been full of nothing but death from Act II, forward; from the murder of the king, to the killing of anyone catching on to his web of lies, to his wife’s suicide. The only conclusion for Macbeth is death as well. He has no allies, he speaks no truth, and to maintain his throne he would just have to keep killing anyone and everyone. (The best reenactment I’ve seen of this terribly bloody play, is an old black and white Japanese film called Throne of Blood. I highly recommend it.)
Just as it did for Macbeth, death is the only thing our carnality can yield.
That may sound dark, but our sinful broken nature demands death.
Death it got.
“Their feet rush into sin, they are swift to shed innocent blood. Their thoughts are evil thoughts; ruin and destruction mark their ways. The way of peace they do not know, there is no justice in their paths. They have turned them into crooked roads; no one who walks in them will know peace.” (v.7-8)
Do you see the parallel to Macbeth?
Our sin leads us into deeper sin. Our hearts are corrupt, our thoughts are wicked, and our actions reflect as much. Innocent blood is on our hands. From the life that we took, we have inherited life eternal.

The best part of this chapter is the prayer of repentance:
“For our offenses are many in your sight, and our sins testify against us. Our offenses are ever with us, and we acknowledge our iniquities: turning our backs on our God, fomenting oppression and revolt, uttering lies our hearts have conceived.” (v.12-13)

We must always repent.
We will always sin. Nowhere in the scriptures does it ever read that we will never sin again.
We will. Sin is our human condition.
As Jesus warned to his disciples in Matthew, “Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.”
Though our heart is to live a life pleasing to God, we must be constantly aware that we are of a fallen, broken world, and temptation to sin abounds.
Be encouraged in repentance, knowing that redemption will play its part.
Our sin was so big, it demanded the death of God; and His life He willingly gave.
“But where sin increased, grace increased all the more.” Romans 5:30

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Obsequiousness.

Do not be anxious about anything, but in prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Finally brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. – Philippians 4:6-8

When I first began studying the Bible, it was hard not to read this through the lens of a self-centered gospel. If you read this verse and interpret it thinking you can pray, thanking God in advance for giving you what you want, and have peace knowing that you’re going to get it because you prayed the right prayer – you’re not reading it right. I say this because, for so many years, that’s how I was taught to take this matter to heart. This logic is laced with pride, and completely voids verse 6.
At the very beginning of this passage, is says “in prayer and supplication”; I had to look up what supplication meant, because its one of those “holy words” that we can recite it when need be, but its not usually a word used in every day dialect.
Supplication means humility.
In humble prayer and humble seeking, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. There is no way that we can adopt humility into our carnality – the only way to accomplish this is Jesus.
Pray like Jesus.
There is a phrase that has appeared in Jesus’ prayers, that is a perfect example of praying in supplication, “Your will be done.”

Here’s the thing, God’s will is going to be carried out one way or another. When we recognize this, and reflect it in our prayers, we are laying down the pride that makes us feel any sort of credibility and assuming the humble nature of Jesus. When we do this, we are praying and seeking in supplication, with full understanding and thanksgiving that God will hear our requests, but humbly knowing His good and perfect will shall be fulfilled; which leads us to the peace spoken about in verse 7.

Humble prayer equates the peace of God.

To submit our hearts to His will, will guard our hearts and minds in Christ Jesus, because our hope and trust is in Him. Praying “Your will be done.” frees our hearts from clinging to our plans, places our hope in His timing, and replaces our troublesome thoughts with peace that does not measure up to human logic: ultimately, guarding our hearts and minds. (See why this is so important in Proverbs 4:23)

Finally, the writer of Philippians gives us a list of what to meditate on: whatever is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, and worthy of praise. The only thing that meets all of these qualifications at once is Jesus. Meditate on Jesus. I used to translate this to “think about good things”, which gave me leeway to daydream tons of scenarios themed around success, romance, adventure, and anything else my imagination could conjure of things I’d like to accomplish. All of these would be good things; marriage, travel, financial gain…but I was neglecting a very important reality. Every good and perfect gift is from above (James 1:17) and we do not receive anything unless it is given to us of God (John 3:27)
We can receive these good and perfect gifts, because of THE good and perfect gift; that is Jesus leaving His throne of glory in heaven, being born as an average baby in a less than average situation, and living a life of perfect obedience to God, even in the midst of prosecution, to the point of His death for the atonement of all. He did this because of the magnitude of His love for God, and His purpose to redeem His creation. As creation we exist to bring glory to the Creator, and sin separates us from that design. Jesus died to redeem us to the rightful spot of our being; He died for God’s glory.
To meditate on this, will direct your thoughts on a whole new path.
The undertone of every moment will not be glorifying ourselves, or seeking our own pleasures, but it will be recognizing that in every breath there is the interminable demand of our lives – to glorify our Creator. If God incarnate died to redeem this calling, how then can we refuse to live for it?

The Bible is about Jesus.
Your life is about Jesus.
Even the earth is about Jesus. (Psalm 19…it’s my favorite.)

It is all about Jesus. Having this in mind as you read Philippians 4:6-8 will show you how to be anxious of nothing, how to pray and seek humbly, how to truly be thankful, how have the peace of God that surpasses all understanding, how to guard your heart and mind in Him, and how to meditate on the only One who is true, honorable, just, pure, lovely, commendable, and worthy of all of our praise. Knowing that the only way to accomplish this is to seek to imitate, and meditate on, the righteousness of Jesus will place you in the same boat as Paul in verse 11,
“for I have learned in whatever situation I am in, to be content.”
To live every day for God’s glory, is to live every moment for God’s glory, is to worship unconditionally. Worship when the goings is good, and worship when all seems hopeless. Worship because you have hope, imitating the perfect supplication of Jesus, knowing that it is all for the glory of the Father and the fulfillment of His plan.

It’s all about Jesus.

Heart Roots.

This year has already begun with a bang.
Not literally. My New Year was ushered in with my sprawling out on the couch, mindlessly watching a movie and downing bottles of water like I’d just been rescued from 40 years in the Sahara.
Yes, the actions of a true party animal.
What I believe was a few blog posts ago, I went on and on about a terrible Tuesday. Well, that Tuesday has since been on repeat, and it isn’t as terrible as it is difficult. Now, this wouldn’t be as difficult if obedience would’ve been practiced with diligence.
I, however, lack diligence…like most of us.
A very large percent of America, I’m sure, is miserably craving anything and everything that is not to be included on day two of their resolution diet. A parallel to that percentage, I am positive, will be the amount of Americans who decide to ditch this dumb diet (no later than Saturday) and have a bacon cheese burger. We are not naturally a people of discipline. Especially when it comes to things that we do not want to go without, healthy or not.
All things are permissible, but not all things are beneficial.
I have tested and proven this statement’s accuracy time and time again; each result with consequences more difficult to cope with than the last.
This is a job that not even tea flavored chocolate can handle – even if the tea flavored chocolate company did an exemplary job on their earl gray candy bar by making sure to add bergamot…because without bergamot, you don’t have earl gray, you just have black tea.
I’ve begun what I am convinced will be a lifelong season of sanctification. Now, there may be many tiny seasons within this envelope (in fact, there are many) but my life is now being seen under the lens of a need for constant cleansing and purification of my broken carnal heart. I don’t believe, and neither did Martin Luther, that I will ever be exempt from repentance. Not until my soul is has passed from my body.
This first step is hard. So hard, I’ve already taken it three times over.
Recognizing ugly roots in your heart is not an easy comprehension. In a recent series of events, I’ve noticed unhealthy needs for affirmation, which go hand in hand with my sometimes low self-esteem, which reflects back to some not so great eating habits, which stems to a desperate need for God to perform some redemptive work on my current state.
Thankfully, I have been given the opportunity to walk through this with a woman I have come to love and trust with my whole heart.
All that to say, with this only being the first Monday of our new year, I encourage you to revert your eyes from your waist band, and pay some attention to your heart. Ask God, who is truly the only who can understand the deceitful thing, to reveal to you the issues He wants to correct, sanctify, and redeem.

An Assessment of Season.

Winter is now in full swing, but today has kindly been a little less frigid. I even made the twelve step trek from my parking space to the office without two coats, a scarf, gloves, and a ski mask.

In my previous post, I mentioned Tuesday may be hard. In retrospect, granting it the potential to be difficult was somewhat cavalier. Tuesday was one of the most difficult I’ve seen in Texas. For about a week now, every day has felt like a Tuesday.

My mind often feels blank, as of late. I don’t know whether to credit this to forcing myself not to think at all, or if I’m just thinking about so many things the blur is confused with thinking that I’m not thinking anything. You’re always thinking something. You’re always meditating and you’re always worshiping something. This is a fact that I’ve grown very uncomfortable with. Amid the books I choose to eat up my spare time with, there is Worship Matters. The premise of chapter two is being aware of what you love, or idolize. Idolize is a scary word, because it is often associated with the practices in the Old Testament that resulted in the earth swallowing people up, or cities being completely destroyed, natural disasters, or other forms of God’s wrath.

This is a common misconception that stems from not understanding the actual definition of the word, but defining the word as what we understand it to be. Practicing this swap is dangerous in any context.

Idolize: (v.) to regard with blind adoration, devotion, ect.

That doesn’t sound nearly as barbaric as my mind has always allowed me to imagine; in fact, it sounds a little too natural. Gaining the understanding that it is so simple to idolize something, has caused me to think, love, and act with caution. I’ve heard it said that where you spend your money, time, and thoughts, you will find your heart. Therein, I believe you will also find your identity.

It is so easy to malign priority.

I made this statement to a friend, “When I forget where I’m grounded, I am not grounded at all.” This sounds like a failed attempt at ambiguity, but it works. The most common complaint my two decades have held, has been one of no stability. Most of this is fault of my own. Carnality yields emotionally blurred vision, which lets me mutter things like “I am lonely.” “I am depressed.” “Nothing is stable.” I am not saying that these things should never be experienced. If we were supposed to be freakishly happy go lucky all of the time, Hebrews 4:15 would be void, because there would be nothing to sympathize about. What I am saying, is that all of these things are circumstantial. Nothing I complain about is based on eternal truth, it is based on temporal observation.

I have realized this week that the times I feel most hopeless, my hope is placed either in a person or an idea. I have devoted my meditations to them, my heart to them, my time to them, and my future to them.

Wait.

So where am I living for Christ’s glory?

I’m treating my Jesus the way I treat my Shakespeare. I love it, I can talk about it up and down, quote it, smile over things that remind me of it, find hints of it in other pieces of literature, and I’ll occasionally pull it off the shelf to brush up on my knowledge of it when I’ve got nothing better to do.

This is a habit that is easy to form, hard to break, and should be eternally banished from my neurological wiring.

I will be married one day. Bringing this into marriage would be lethal. These dependencies allow me to form my identity around my husband, and though I love him enough to commit my life to him, my future is not his. Our future is God’s, and we have been designed to worship together as one machine. He is not my hope, he is not my stability, and he is not my identity. I will be known as Mrs._____, but that will not be my white stone.

The Tuesdays have been so difficult, and have required some diligence in areas that I don’t want to be diligent, silence in areas that I don’t want to be silent, and distance in areas that I’d much rather keep next to me. First, I saw this as a call for respect of my leadership. I was told it was for my protection, and though I didn’t understand how, I trusted the wisdom telling me so. Now, I am starting to see, painfully, but still starting to see how obedience in the boundaries I have agreed to will drastically medicate a sickness that my mind has assumed.

I am learning what it means to live a gospel centered life.

I am learning what it means to accept Christ as your stability.

In that, I am learning what unconditional hope and joy look like.

There will be days where I do have heavy boots, and there will be times that everything feels dark or blurred. I am not exempt from frowns or tears, but the temporal reactions to natural observations do not nullify the eternal truth – so long as my identity remains in Christ, I am hopeful when hope seems fleeting, I am joyful when sadness abounds, and I am grounded when stability seems to be unattainable.

Praise God.

Oh, and Merry Christmas. 🙂

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White Winter Hymnal

It has been quite some time since my last post. I have not forgotten about you, dear readers, I have simply let life’s quick pace sweep me up into a habit of neglecting things that are important to me, and focused more of my energy on things with deadlines and a more prominent call to completion; unfortunately, writing and painting were the Pompeii that my Vesuvius (or lack of “me time”) blanketed in the ashes of “I’ll get around to it…”

Thankfully, a moment came to me that was completely lacking of any immediate bullet point on the to-do list, so I write.

As I write, it is snowing. Snow. Real live, cold, wet, white snow.

When I was younger, I thought I would love a wintery welcome such as this, but now that I’ve had a two hour taste, I have realized the folly of my youthful mind. I am not climatically wired for this kind of weather in the slightest, which was blatantly proven by my (maybe) two block drive to work. Apparently someone forgot to inform me that I was actually a digital character on Mario Kart being controlled by a six year old who had just downed a Pepsi and a box of Nerds.

Summer began a metamorphic season of life for me that has only become more challenging as time progresses. December is only validating this. Tuesday, tomorrow (holy cow, its tomorrow) could be a very exciting or very difficult day for me. Unfortunately, my money is on difficult. Some big changes are to come, and the thought of this has stolen any ability to eat or sleep. Such a dramatic way for my body to respond, but my nerves have robbed my appetite and inserted some lovely puffy dark circles under my eyes. The rest of December may be emotionally strenuous, this is a fact to which my response must be “It is what it is.”

God is sovereign. I am learning to accept this daily, and it has played major part in clinging to hope, sanity, and joy. Personifying God as these things for me has made living a worshipful life something that I can understand. I had always used the religious cliché “God is my everything.” That is something that we emotionally charged humans are quick to say, usually to a loved one. “You’re my everything.”  I have suddenly felt the weight of this. Obviously, hopefully obviously, it is completely unwise to make a person everything. Everything is a big deal.

My sanity, my hope, my joy, my strength, my peace, my rest, my laughter, my knowledge, my desires, my dreams, my life…all have been preserved by recognizing my stability to be the only eternal, unchangeable triune God. What’s better, is that things start relying less on circumstance, and more on submission. I am joyful if I submit, I am sane if I submit, I am stronger if I submit…the list goes on. Right now, judging my current situation, it would be completely logical for me to be depressed and mopey. Fortunately for me, the Gospel has voided all reliability on human circumstance.

We just celebrated our second Sunday of Advent at church, of which the message was centered around joy. Coming into this Christmas season, I have taken on a new respect and reverence for the holiday. Not the holiday itself (that has become far too commercialized) but the reason the church recognizes it. Christ’s birth, God revealing His perfect self to us in a way that we can comprehend, and eternally redeeming us by His death on a cross for the sins of those who believe. Recognizing this leaves no room for sadness. So times are tough. Thankfully I serve a compassionate High Priest who can lovingly see me through (Hebrews 4:15) In the long run, there is a big picture that I cannot see. In the next five minutes, I am still sad. I may be sad tomorrow. I may even be more sad the day after that. This does not mean I have no joy. As long as the Gospel is the truth, I have joy. The promise was never that there wouldn’t be tears, but that they would be wiped away. At some point, they’re falling. Though my joy may not manifest through smiles and laughter, and my eyes might be red, and my appetite may not be at its fullest, “Woe is me!” is not my song.
Worship continues to be the mode of life I have assumed, through all of life. For better or worse.

“Why do you say, O Jacob, and complain, O Isreal, ‘My way is hidden from the Lord; my cause is disregarded by my God.’? Do you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He will not grow tired or weary, and His understanding no one can fathom. He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.” Isaiah 40: 27-30

“But now, this is what the Lord says – he who created you, O Jacob, he for formed you, O Isreal: ‘Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name, you are mine.” Isaiah 43:1

There you have it. My biggest pick me up. Though not much else seems to be definite, I serve an eternal God who cares for me, who has redeemed me, and who claims me as His own. He is my God, and I am His beloved. Fact.

Christmas, Wait Your Turn.

It’s that time of the year again…

If your home is anything like mine was growing up, turkey is being braised and beer is incorporated however it can be, cranberry sauce is requiring more bravery than anything else has demanded in the prior ten months, Campbell’s based casseroles have been (unfortunately) brought by every member of the family, sweet potatoes are resting somewhere under enough marshmallows to make a life-sized Michelin man, and croissants are causing more family fights than Maury Povich.

Thanksgiving at my house always felt more like a test of bravery. I avoided nearly everything on the table, due in part to random (sometimes convenient) spurts of vegetarianism and a genuine fear of some culinary conundrums; sadly, I will be missing it this year. The dining table that I remember is no longer in the house that I last saw it in, and the family that gathered has dispersed across the state; Though my Horn of Plenty will not be overflowing with the now nostalgic Thanksgiving feast of my childhood, but a delicious meal will be enjoyed, undoubtedly.

Regardless of food, I am thankful for many things. Let the list making being:

My Salvation: I’ve been reading much, and God’s redemptive love for His creation is overwhelming and humbling. I am so thankful for the love that claims back death from the grave and for the grace and life that I do not under any circumstances deserve.

God’s provision: Moving out is hard enough, moving 2,000 miles out at the ripe age of 19 is pretty difficult financially and emotionally. I have been blessed with an incredible job that I am completely unqualified for, a car, an apartment, and an amazing group of community that will get its own bullet point.

My growing family: My mom recently started working at a shelter in downtown Miami, where she met a 15 year-old boy named Kevin. Over the past 6 months she’s sewn into his life, and they have happily begun the adoption process. Welcome to the family, Kevin. I am glad to be your sister.

Old friends: Through a particularly difficult season, no one has acted as more of a wall than my oldest and dearest friend. She has experienced many frantic, joyous, confused, and desperate phone calls. I love her heart, and her wisdom. I truly do not know how much sanity I could cling to without her. Another old friend, in closer proximity, has graciously witnessed many heart spilling sessions, and I am glad to have these godly women in my life.

New friends: Being far away from my home town, my family, and most of my friends, it has felt like starting over. Fresh, exciting, and kind of stressful. I couldn’t ask for a better group of friends than the ones that have quickly been grafted into my heart. Especially three incredible women that I love dearly…who just so happen to live under the same roof.

West Amarillo Christian Church: Transition is just the order of the day. This transition is one that I am so excited about; I can hardly put words to it. Since moving, this church has been the first place where I could sit down and sigh a reliving “This is my home.” I am blessed with such a wise and gracious pastor (ehem, David Ritchie) and his equally wise and gracious wife Kate. I love it.

The Schlabs Family: Thank you, Schlabs, for opening up your home to me, and letting me share in your Thanksgiving feast. I am so blessed by you, and way too excited to sit down at a table and eat. 🙂

So there you have it, readers. My small Thanksgiving shout-out list.

Eat to your heart’s content, remember the Gospel, and enjoy your family…or honorary family, in my case.

Blue Words and Red Pillows

As of late, my emotions have swallowed up the best of me. My lows have seemed to drop a few levels lower, my blues have become bluer, and thoughts are rushing around so fast, I rarely even know what I’m thinking about that is aiding in this plummeting sadness.
Maybe I’m just hormonal, or stressed, or insecure…one thing is for certain, I am far from logical at this point. My overdramatic thoughts dash about from one depressing extreme to the next, truly giving me and adequate amount of the supplies needed to host an extravagant pity party. It literally feels as if my brain is yelling; screaming at the top of its lungs. Not words. Not accusations. Not threats or demands…just noise. Non-stop noise. My thoughts, that are moving so fast I can hardly comprehend them, are self-destructive to an extreme. With all the noise buzzing around in my head, it is difficult to think about much of anything. I feel like a zombie, an incredibly emotional zombie.
Past hurts are rearing their heads in tricky, unexpected ways, and it knocks me off my horse every time.
My mental life is not the only lack of organization surrounding me; I am just now getting around to putting away everything I brought back from Florida…almost a month ago.
In the midst of sorting through my things, I found a note that I had plucked from a Christmas present that my Granny Richardson made for me. It was a pillow. A lopsided, poorly sewn, bright red, absolutely hideous heart shaped pillow, with a small pocket on the front to house the letter she had written in accompaniment. I left the pillow at my parent’s house, but I was quick to grab the note (she always has good things to say.) It has been several years since I unfolded the page, but it seems I picked a good time to do so. The letter reads as follows:

Mandy,

I have given you this lopsided heart to remind you that hearts get cracked and broken

into little pieces. It happens to all of us.

When you are sad, squeeze your lopsided heart and thank God for your salvation.

When you feel unloved, hug your lopsided heart and praise God for His love.

When you feel useless, look at your lopsided heart and remember everything and everybody

has a purpose.

Love,

Granny

It may read kind of cheesy, but in this letter my granny was teaching me a very important method of coping with the unavoidable pain that comes with being a heart owner. Feeling sad, unloved, and useless plague everyone at some point or another…sometimes all at once, sometimes in pairs, sometimes individually; but they always hit. What Granny is communicating here is a seemingly small shift in the thoughts that usually follow these uncomfortable events. She’s encouraging me to tear down all of my ‘poor me’ streamers, pop all of my ‘life sucks’ balloons, and trash the ‘it will never get better’ sheet cake. She’s telling me to end my pity party and ultimately worship: thank God for your salvation, praise Him for His love, and remember that you were created for a purpose. To meditate on these things would leave a scarce amount of room, if any at all, for the lies being whispered in my ears.

I am thankful for my Granny. Though I didn’t know how to appreciate it when I was younger, her words have helped grow me into a woman after God’s heart.
I am also so thankful that God has given my closest friends the grace to deal with me and my sporadic meltdowns. Its too easy to get caught up in the little picture, and in doing that, it seems as if my life of incessant worship begins to quiet, and the stresses and troubles of life crescendo…then I break.

I’m learning to remember that I do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with me, I’m learning what this means, I’m learning that the most beautiful worship I am capable of has come from this dark season, and above all, I am learning. In general, I am learning. Patience is appreciated.

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