I have been in a kind of funny place lately. I have been looking beyond the basics for Truth. Trying to decipher what I believe and why I believe it. Needing a little more depth to my theology. Today I tried to put that struggle into word over on Deeper Church. I hope that you will go read it and comment if it resonates so I don’t feel quite so naked.

Lately I have been trying to reconcile what I believe about well, things. You know? Things…big things, spiritual things, God things.

Heaven. Hell. The Father. The Son. The Holy Spirit. Sin. Grace. Atonement. The Nature of Man. The Nature of God. Read the rest here. 

I have been a blogging slacker. I have all sorts of excuses.

• Two cross country moves in less than 12 months.
• New homes {plural}.
• New jobs {plural}
• New friends {plural}.
• New everythings {routines, habits, plans, all that and more}.

Real life seemed to demand all of me and life on the internet became seemingly less important.

But I have made a decision. I am back.

Not just because I am home again {and it is great to be home again}. But because my friend Sarah Markley made me realize something this weekend at Allume.

By not writing here, in this safe space, I am avoiding God. {Yeah. That was a doozy of a realization.}

I have been avoiding God.

This place right here, this simple little blog, is my sacred space. This place right here is where I come and wrestle with God. This place right here is where He shows me His grace, His beauty, and His ability to meet me in sadness, in fear, and in joy. This place right here is where I learn from life.

“A lot of time the learning doesn’t come until the writing.”

Yes. What Sarah said right there. That has been my experience. That has been my Truth.

My learning doesn’t come until my writing.

And since I do want to keep learning, keep wrestling, and keep growing, I have decided that it is time that I AM BACK. I have decided I am going to put some words down here at least a couple times of week for the indefinite future.  I have decided I am going to be a more consistent blogger.

Thank you sweet Sarah for the reminder. Know that God uses your words, written and spoken to nudge us forward. 

 What keeps you writing?  

Or on a more serious note, are you, could you possibly be, avoiding God? 

Insecurity.

It crept back in. Slowly infiltrating my thoughts and stealing my joy.

“You are an outsider,”  it screams.

“You are unloved, inconsequentional, and uninvited,” it adds.

“If you don’t keep fighting, keep performing, keep overextending yourself, people will forget you,” it confirms my deepest fears.

I wrestle with the voices. Argue with this dark shadow of myself. Hate that I, at 36, can still possess these feelings…these adolescent feelings. And wonder how to banish them away again, for an eternity this time.

Have I not grown at all since those awkward years?

How can these age old lies still haunt me?

They aren’t lies aren’t they?!?

Please tell me THEY ARE LIES.

I look up.

I ask for God to give me peace.

I beg Him to remind me that His approval is all I need, to allow me to rest, and to give me the wisdom to discern the lies, the insecurity, the voices from His beautiful truth.

Please God let me rest in your love.

“The Lord your God is with you,
    he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
    he will quiet you with his love,
    he will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17

Quiet me with Your love.

Rejoice over me with singing.

Beautiful singing that will flush out the voices. The lies. The insecurity.

When was the last time you felt insecure? 

I love being back in Nashville I do. I love my job. I love my house. I love living someplace where fall means college football, crisp mornings, and foliage, glorious foliage.

But I’d be lying if I said that everyday is sunshine and smiley faces.

Truth be told, this weekend I’ve fought the funk. You know the one that has you ogling your half empty glass, asking the dreaded ‘what ifs’, and questioning your purpose and value? That funk.

I’ve been traveling a lot. I’m tired, worn out, and feeling disconnected. And I, who typically am especially gifted in the intentional pursuit of my friends, have zero energy to play that game.  Making matters seem worse, I still am assessing who I am after a year in California and how people have evolved in my absence.

I’m different. They are different. Life is different.

Well, it all got the best of me and this weekend I had to go head-to-head with the funk.

I’ll leave you with a few random observations that I’ve found in the midst of my wrestling…

We all have our highs and our lows. We need to be honest with ourselves and acknowledge when all is not right in our souls.

Grief comes in waves. The waves get smaller and less frequent but they continue to lap the shore. And that’s okay.

Our perspective shapes everything. Every thing. But unfortunately, shifting our perspective is often easier said than done.

Grace. I need to swim in it. I need to let it permeate my entire being. I need to stop being so hard on myself. I need to take deep breaths and choose grace. Again. And again.

What are some observations you have on fighting the funk? 

Sometimes I struggle with prayer.

Not the bow your heads as we all come together to close up this worship service type of prayer. Not the constant back-and-forth muttering, wrestling, surrendering to the Creator of the Universe type of prayer.

But the grocery listing of all the things in this world that are broken and need mending type of prayer. The begging for divine intervention type of prayer. And more specifically, the I have this deep and seemingly God-given desire to fall in love, get married, and have kids, and so I’m gonna plead with the Almighty One to find me a husband type of prayer.

My friend Bianca notices that I don’t seem to have much fight, at least when my personal interests are concerned. My friend Kyle wonders if I have issues feeling worthy. And my friend Joy fearlessly petitions Him on my behalf.

Their words, observations and prayers are of course appreciated but me, I still struggle with saying that prayer.

Yes, I wholeheartedly believe in an all-knowing and all-powerful God. I wholeheartedly believe that God has a plans for me, plans to prosper me and not to harm me, plans to give me a hope and a future. And I wholeheartedly believe that God can move mountains, He can heal the sick, and He can perform miracles on a whim.

But what I can’t seem to reconcile is that He wants to hear me groan about my singleness. That He doesn’t already know what my heart desires. And  that He would divert His perfect-for-me plan based on my fumbling attempt at words.

So yes, sometimes I struggle with prayer.

How about you? Do you struggle with prayer?

And…what are your thoughts on praying for a husband?

Don’t forge the rules. Be honest but only if you can do be honest while being kind, courteous, and respectful. 

A year ago {almost to the day}, my friend Jennie asked me to share my thoughts on some word prompts. The post is below. Crazy how my answers still ring true and my words speak reassurance to me in this new season of change. {PS – Jennie is the real deal. You need to be reading her book and following her on her blog and twitter.}

Years ago I began following a passionate young woman on twitter and on her blog: lindseynobles.com. I appreciated her honest, wrestling spirit. Now I am so happy to call her friend. We met just as she was departing Thomas Nelson into new uncharted territory. I so admired her faith in this new step, I wanted you to be inspired too.

I threw Lindsey some words and asked to share a little about them in her own life.

As I write this I am 30,000 feet in the air, headed to Haiti with a handful of Project 7 teammates. We are going to plant fruit trees as our Save the Earth campaign culminates. And truth be known, I am a little nervous. Okay, I’m a lot nervous.

Nervous because while I have experienced poverty, I haven’t experienced the darkness one hears about when discussing Haiti. Nervous because I have heard first hand Dan Woolley’s stories of surviving in an elevator shaft for days after the 2010 earthquake. Nervous because diseases like Cholera and Malaria are still real threats to Haitians and travelers alike. And nervous because Haiti feels dangerous, and as lame as it is to admit, I like feeling, being, living safe.

Last night as I climbed into bed and allowed my thoughts to spin, I started whispering to myself…

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I wasn’t quite sure where the familiar words came from {a quick google search told me that it was from St. Patrick’s Breastplate and is said invoke protection on a journey} but they are the words that I will take with me to Haiti and will holdfast to on all the journeys laid before me.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God to hold and lead,
His eye to watch, His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need.
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide, his shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heavenly host to be my guard.

Against the demon snares of sin,
The vice that gives temptation force,
The natural lusts that war within,
The hostile men that mar my course;
Or few or many, far or nigh,
In every place and in all hours
Against their fierce hostility,
I bind to me these holy powers.

Against all Satan’s spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart’s idolatry,
Against the wizard’s evil craft,
Against the death-wound and the burning
The choking wave and the poisoned shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

Friends, will you pray for our journey? And in the comments let us know how I can be praying for you?

Before Christmas, Jimmy Kimmel did something some might call cruel. He asked parents to give their children ‘terrible’ Christmas presents and to capture  their reaction, their disappointment, and occasionally their anger, on video. Personally, I think that the videos that ensued were hilarious. (But then again I’m not going to be the one paying for these kid’s therapy down the road.) And…there is something beautiful about these kid’s raw and honest reactions. They haven’t learned to feign gratitude. They call a spade, a spade. They call a half-eaten sandwich, a half-eaten sandwich. (Warning: One of the boys borders on inappropriate.)

I see myself in those kids. Especially the little girl who is trying to get to the bottom of why her mother would wrap up a half-eaten peanut butter sandwich and call it a gift. She isn’t trying to be high maintenance or particular. She doesn’t want to be disrespectful. She doesn’t want to hurt her mother’s feelings. But clearly she just doesn’t get it and she can’t hide her questions, her disappointment, and her frustration.

I don’t want to seem ungrateful. I don’t want my disappointment to be misconstrued for lack of love, faith, or even trust. I don’t want to want what I don’t have.

I know that I have received gifts many people would die for. A great job. A welcoming community. A beautiful place to live. An opportunity to speak into the lives of others. But while they are more than I deserve, they aren’t what my heart so primally desires. And some days what my heart desires feels farther away than ever. To be known. To find a person to share my life with. To raise kids. To leave a legacy of love.

So here I sit, wrestling, negotiating, pleading. Wondering why He is withholding ‘the good stuff’? Wondering why the desire lies in waiting? And wondering why I can’t continue to feign gratitude about my ‘half-eaten sandwich’?

 What are you feigning gratitude about? What are you wrestling over? 

In an effort to begin checking things off my insanely long California bucket list, Saturday night I ventured out with some friends to the LA Galaxy game. It was my first soccer game since I saw “Tatu” play with the Dallas Sidekicks. {I know. I am probably dating myself. But there is no hiding it anyway. I am 35. Or at least I will be Wednesday. Ugh. Pardon my digression, I’m pretty sure it is just another symptom of my old age.}

Back to the soccer game. Or actually back to what my ears bleed during the soccer game.

Two male contemporaries sat directly behind us. And for an hour or so they grated on each of our nerves as they loud-talked about marathoning. One of the men had completed several races. And the other was just beginning his training.

It wasn’t ONLY the deafening decibal at which they spoke that made them annoying. It was also the way in which they conversed with each other.

One spoke without listening. One spoke dropping big words and accomplishments so that he appeared uber-knowledgable. One spoke overstating his meager skills so he might fit in. One gave half-hearted yet wholly-unconvincing assurances. One spoke with an air of superiority. One spoke with a hint of insecurity. And they both took themselves, and their running, way too seriously.

The unease during their exchange was so apparent, it united me and my friends in a mix of agitation and hilarity. But as I reflected back on it this morning, I wondered if someone, anyone, might overhear some of my conversations and observe the same lame conversation skills.

Yep. I fear they might.

And so this is the song I sing, the prayer I pray,

May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer. Psalm 19:14

And may I not sound like the foolish idiot I regretfully am time and time again.

Have you witnessed, or displayed, any lame conversation skills in recent memory? 

Gosh, sorry I haven’t written since the big news. I meant to, but time has sort of escaped me.

How have I been doing???

Well, I have been a tad overwhelmed.

The logistics of moving to California are far more complicated than I imagined.  Figuring out where to live and how to get my self, my belongings and my car from Nashville to Orange County has been pretty much all consuming. Not to mention the plotting of a lot difficult goodbyes.

And, for the better part of last week I was gripped with fear.

Can I really do this? What was I thinking? Moving to Southern California…the land of earthquakes and Real Housewives?  Who am I? Without Nashville, my friends, my church, and my dog? {Yeah, I came to the brutal decision to send Molly to reside in Texas with my parents than force her to accompany me as I get settled. Brutal.}

But…things are looking up.

I am feeling more cool, calm, and collected as the plan begins coming together. And I know this sounds corny and perhaps a little hyper-spiritual but Sunday as I sat in church I couldn’t miss the little confirmations, the gifts of reassurance, from God that this is the right move. And that I am not taking this leap alone.

From the gripping lyrics of Healer, “Nothing is impossible with You. You hold my world in Your hands.” To Pete Wilson’s poignant message about what being radically devoted to Christ looks like. To watching the waves crash on a rocky beach as Merlyn Catron sang, “Where you go, I’ll go. Where you stay, I’ll stay. When you move, I’ll move. I will follow you.” To the perfectly timed text message from Tyler Merrick nudging the Project 7 team to, “Look for His details in the tapestry of your life today and this week.”

He won’t let me endeavor to think I am taking this leap alone.

Praise. The. Lord.

Enough about me. Has He sent you any gifts of reassurance lately?