Dialogue with a Persistent God

God never gives up on us, but if we’re truthful, sometimes we give up on Him. Whether it be an intentional or conscious decision, it happens and our dialogue with our engaging God falls to the wayside. Sometimes for simple reasons, like our busy schedule. Other times it’s rooted in anger, fear, confusion or defiance. In those cases we take out our problems on God and when we don’t find the answers we need, we block Him out and set out to find them without Him. It’s the easiest way to deal with it, right? Give God the silent treatment while we lick our wounds or try to come up with a solution on our own.

My experience of these wilderness times, of which there have been two this year alone, is that it’s a lonely existence. I was created to be connected to the God who made me. Who knows me fully and loves me wholly, despite myself. During these low and uncommunicative periods I don’t really ask anything of God. I just carry on in my own independence because it wouldn’t be fair to only talk to Him when I need something. I mean He’s not a bloody genie, right?

Well, in my most recent bout of tantrum throwing and silent treatment, the joke was on me…

It had been more than a few weeks, maybe even a couple of months, since I had really given God the time of day. I was stuck because I so wanted to pray for my friends that were going through tough situations, and I wanted to reach out to them, but I didn’t feel I was in a position to. How could I share about a God that I wasn’t even talking to? And though I didn’t think I could pray for myself during this time, could I pray for others? Is that allowed? I was struck with sadness and confusion, so I wrote. I put it down in my journal with simple words. I didn’t pray but I reached out in a very passive way.

I didn’t expect anything but I got it off my chest. Then God did that thing He does; He showed up. During my work day a friend sent me an email with words that she felt compelled to share with me. Her encouragement could only have been God, for she relayed to me such specific encouragement that was so incredibly relevant, and that she couldn’t have known that I was struggling with. She lives in a different time zone, half a world away, and she was able to speak into my life. She stepped out in faith when I was being stubborn with my own.

When I’ve felt so far away from God and felt that He wouldn’t be able to find me if He tried, He’s spoken to me in the very way that He knows I will listen. In the two bad phases of this year, he spoke to me through people and they were spot on every time. People that are overseas and know nothing of what I’m going through, each time. He speaks in a way I can trust, and in a way that cannot be doubted. He knows what I need.

This propelled me forward in to a deeper and more intimate relationship of dialogue and studying. Our God fights for us and is always looking for ways to speak to us, whether we are playing our part or not. I have been so humbled and amazed at how patient and persistent our Father God is and that He doesn’t give up on us. If you have gone quiet on Him, reach out in the only way you know how. Or don’t. Either way, your silence won’t last long because God will follow you to the ends of the earth.

If there is anything I have learned from those seasons of little or no dialogue with God, it’s that His love for us is relentless and His faithfulness trumps our disbelief every time. So remember that even if you give up on him, for a day or a year, He will never give up on you.

***

How does God best speak to you? Do you ever struggle with your faith and keeping up consistent dialogue with God? What happens when you doubt?

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Guest Post: In Line With Our Dreams…Or Not

There’s not a lot to say here other than I totally adore this girl. We met in our early London days and so much has changed in our lives since, but our friendship has only grown. Check out her words, coming from the girl living the good and bad days of her dream. You can read more about her at the end of the post. -Micaela

Here’s the way I like to think about myself in relation to my dreams, and about the line that connects me to them: Strong, solid, as though I’m in a boat and that line is a sturdy chain reaching down to the ocean floor.

With my dreams as an anchor at the end.

After all, isn’t that what Paul says in Hebrews? “We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure.”

Now here’s the way I more often feel in relation to my dreams: Weak, wavering, as though I’m ten years old again and that line is attached to a capricious kite. The kite being my dreams.

There’s hardly any wind to lift the dumb thing off the ground, and when a breeze does pick up, the kite dips and dives and drops away from me, forever uncontrollable. Up when things go right and I hear back from editors (as a freelance writer, this isn’t always the case); down when things don’t and my inbox is empty.

But a little while ago, I came across a verse, another classic from Paul, that began to change my perspective: “The lines of purpose in your lives never grow slack, tightly tied as they are to your future in heaven, kept taut by hope.” (Colossians 1:5, MSG).

There were a lot of words in there I didn’t recognise, not when it comes to feeling secure in my dreams, at least: Never slack, tightly tied, taut.

Each phrase paints a picture of a kite filled to the max with wind, soaring so high it’s actually pulling at the spindle of string in your hand. Certainly not the measly, homemade kite I often feel stuck with, especially when another round of doubts and questions kick up:

Am I really a writer? Will my book ever be published? What am I doing with my life?

Sound familiar?

But Paul’s verse was a revelation – that no matter how far away I sometimes feel from realizing my dreams, if I stay grounded in a perspective of heaven and continually acknowledge my true purpose here on earth, then I’m closer to my dreams than I think.

Pursuing your dreams isn’t easy. Keeping the faith often feels more like a roller coaster of emotions. But that’s where things like belief and hope come into play.

Because ultimately, the spool of kite string isn’t in our hands. It’s in God’s.

——-

Candace Rose Rardon is a writer and photographer with a passion for travel and adventure. After finishing her Masters in Travel Writing from London’s Kingston University, she celebrated by driving an auto-rickshaw 3,000 kilometers across India. Thankfully she lived to write about it and can’t wait to see where her dreams take her next. Read about her travels at The Great Affair and on Twitter.

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Guest Post: Virgin Faith

I know Melissa through the blogging world and I love her style of writing so much. This story is raw and beautiful, and I am honoured to have her share it here. You can read more about Melissa at the end of the post, and be sure to check out her blog. -Micaela 

I don’t know any girls at church camp. They seem like they have no idea what life could throw at them; they are stupid, innocent, seemingly flawless, spoiled girls. I’m angry at God. I’m a stone wall—hardened and cold. I don’t think about how there is “power in the blood” or “washing in the blood of the lamb” or being “covered by the blood of Jesus” until I wake up in my bunk covered in my own blood. And I don’t tell a soul because they’re all just interested in saving my soul.

Camp is not the first time I’ve seen the blood. Several months earlier when the blood appeared, I knew I’d “become a woman.” But when it disappeared for months, I guessed it was a false alarm. Perhaps I wasn’t actually ready to be a woman. I felt like a girl, a bud not ready to blossom, too ugly and stupid to bloom. I wanted to shut the world out and remain tight, forever in a bud.

I have stained sheets and stained faith. I tear strips of my white washrags. I then wind toilet paper around the rags and wrap them around the crotch of my panties to keep everything secure while wondering why those ridiculous wing commercials on television make having your period seem glamorous. I don’t think I can speak to anyone about supplies. I’m never good at asking for anything, especially asking for things I need. I bet the girls in the bunks surrounding me would have no problem asking. They seem like they wouldn’t be ashamed about talking to their moms about shaving their legs or using scary looking tampons or needing a stronger deodorant to prevent sweat stains from going all the way down to their waists.

I don’t think I can speak to anyone about anything. I can speak, technically, but what I can’t do is hear, not very well. About a year before I came to camp, God decided to take most of my hearing, take it away from the girl who is scared and awkward already. We went to hospitals and specialists. No tumor, no blow to the head, no ear infection. God just took it suddenly with no good reason. Now I feel stuck in my own world where the real world is muffled and muted, slightly spinning and baffling to me.

The bell signals flagpole time. I waddle to the circle hoping blood won’t seep through my jeans. With my luck, today’s Bible lesson will involve Moses and the parting of the Red Sea. Instead, we’re each given a notebook. I am handed a red one. Red must be the theme, the color of the week. I run my hand over the smooth cover and fan the pages. The first page is so white, so blank, and so pure. I stare at the first page for two hours. I write, “God, You feel far away.” There. That sentence wasn’t so bad. The act of writing was easier than holding hands around the table and listening to my disappointed parents beg God to fix me. Writing was easier than my dad’s idea of allowing the Elders at church to place their hands on me. I didn’t want them to touch me or hear them say, “Thy will be done- heal this child- out demon, out- restore her- to God be the glory.” I could, however, handle a notebook. I could control a notebook. I could fill it with what I wanted. I could take away from it what I wanted. I could close it when I felt like it. I could rip out pages. I could chuck it across the room. I could sleep with it under my pillow.

I tried to explain that I couldn’t pray out loud. When my youth minister took me to a shelter house to talk, he didn’t actually make me speak. He simply sat with me and read to me Romans 8:39 NIV: “Neither height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, nothing will be able to separate us from the love of Christ that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” I wondered, “Nothing will be able to separate? Not my wall, not my distance I put between us, not my faith so spotted with questions and doubts and the embarrassment of being me?” Did God take away my physical hearing so that I could spiritually listen? Though I don’t know the answer to that question, I do believe God started listening to me. In Genesis, when Cain kills Abel, the blood cries out from the ground. God hears the blood. God heard what was happening inside me, inside my hopeful, pumping heart, inside my changing body.

That night, as I took my flashlight, virgin faith, pen, and red notebook under the stained covers with me, He heard the words I no longer hesitated to write but instead thrust onto the paper. I spilled out questions. I reminded myself that even Job questioned. I poured out fears, anger, and brokenness, knowing I’d heard somewhere that God uses brokenness. Faster than I could think, my words dripped out of the pen. At that moment, I realized writing was submission. Writing meant opening up, stretching, tearing, releasing, and most of all, giving and letting go. It was writing that redeemed me. Writing is what broke the shell, tore the curtain, destroyed the wall, and awakened a woman.

During invitation, I put one foot in front of the other until I made it to the altar. Jesus bled and died for me. Blood stands for sacrifice, for pain, for lifeblood, for womanhood, for birth, and for me—rebirth. As I emerged from the water with the floating melody of “Now I belong to Jesus,” I noticed, with a slight smile on my face, that I had stained the baptismal water with the slightest tint of red.

———–

Melissa Kiefer is a high school English teacher and writer who lives in Illinois with her husband Josh and black lab Jovie. She strives to live deeply, genuinely, and soulfully as she watches God work in those beautiful, mysterious, in-His-time ways. You can find more stories of grit and grace at her blog On Bruised Knees.

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Work-in-Progress

I’m figuring out what I think about Sin.

I’m figuring out how to live by Grace.

I’m figuring out where I stand on Calvanism, Arminianism, and every other theology there is.

I’m figuring out what it means to truly love and faithfully follow God.

I’m figuring how to live by the Spirit, and not man-made Christianity.

I’m figuring out how to show Christ in a real way, while being totally crippled by my own humanity and incompetence at the same time.

That’s the truth of it, and because I’m just figuring it out, I can be very mediocre. I sin every single day, some more than others.  I’m not going to lie to cover it up, or tell you that I’ll change. Some weekends I drink too much, I occasionally drop the F-bomb just for effect, I’ve kissed strangers before. Those are the sins we zero on and gossip about, right? Yep, done a bunch of them that I won’t list here.

But my other struggles, that are just as sinful? Unforgiveness, gossip, rudeness, impatience, resentment, gluttony, envy, judgement, unfaithfulness, bitchiness. Unseen or seen, all sin is the same in the eyes of God. The only difference is the consequence that comes with it and how other people (also flawed) judge it.

God forbid, I’ve done this whole walk as a Christian. It’s not my big dirty past, some of it is very much my present life. Forgive me for that and I’ll forgive you for thinking I’m a crappy Christian.

am a crappy Christian according to society’s definition of the word. Thankfully, I’m not looking to please people. I’m looking to please my God who sees my heart, sees all my brokenness and sees how far I’ve come. He knows I will always fall short of His glory (Romans 3:23), but as long as I’m leaning hard on Him, I’m doing good.

Some days I bring Him glory, and I pray that as time passes that evolves to most days. As the weeks, months, years go by, God will continue to change me. I will continue to sin less, but I will never be sinless.

I’m not where I would like to be, but thank God I’m not where I used to be. For all my self-deprecation, I can see that I’m doing well (my best) on this journey of life, and of that I’m pleased. I’m not squeaky clean, but Jesus doesn’t ask for squeaky clean. He asks for followers and for us to have faith, and He desires us as we are.

So if you’re also a work-in-progress too and you’re discouraged, be assured that in all of your humanity and bad decisions, He loves you. He is willing to meet you where you are. Heck, we’re all the same, just figuring it out best as we can.

Thoughts? Criticisms? Wisdom? 

Opening My Mind

Meet Esther. She’s an awesome God-fearing girl that loves Jesus and isn’t afraid to show it. Esther was raised in a Christian home, and growing up she adopted the beliefs of her parents. They screwed their noses up at homosexuals, distanced themselves from any other religion, and criticised people with tattoos. They did a lot of great things for people too, but always for the cause of conversion.

Esther went to University and immediately made friends with other Christian girls who agreed with her way of life. They supported each other in their walk with Christ and they mixed with others occasionally, but usually because they had to. Esther found it uncomfortable being around people that swore a lot, dressed promiscuously or drank a lot of alcohol. She was disconnected from the world.

Now, let me introduce you to Sophie, who is also a God-loving girl. She had much of the same upbringing as Esther; strict parents with firm beliefs. But that’s where the similarities end. Sophie chose to go to University in a City that was known for it’s diversity. She lived in halls, and on the first day she learned her roommate was a staunch Muslim. This was a shock and she wasn’t sure how to respond. Sophie had never been close with someone who’s life was so different to her. But she opened her mind, and determined that despite their obvious differences, she would make an effort to be friends with her new room mate.

Who will have more impact in her world and sphere of infuence? Whose walk with Christ will be seen more, just from her way of life?

In all of our diversity and multi-culture, each person in the world has one thing in common: we all have a world-view made up of opinions and beliefs. Some of us are more convinced and assured than others, but we all stand somewhere. As Christians we are to be in the world, but not of the world. So yes, we need to be careful who we mix with. We need to watch who sets the temperature in our lives. Are you surrounded by people who make good decisions and encourage you to as well? You should be, because iron sharpens iron.

However that doesn’t mean you cut off everyone else. Which is tempting to do. Obviously it’s easier to hang out with people that see things exactly the way you do. Me? I can strongly relate with Esther. I find it hard to be around people whose life choices, outlook and attitude greatly contrast mine.  But that’s just my pride talking, because really the issue is that I don’t like being questioned or disagreed with. I want to have it all together and when people ask hard questions or challenge me, my weakness is revealed. And my pride is hurt.

I’m really confronting my tendency to be narrow-minded, because I don’t believe I will have much success in being a light to my world if I don’t. My prayer is that I would be humbled and open my mind, because there really is something to learn from everyone. Each and every person has a story and is on a journey, and they’re learning too. The pace may be different, their teachers may not be the same as yours, but they still know a thing or two.

When I moved to London all of my friends were from church, which was important for me in the delicate and immature stage I was in. I still spend a lot of my time with friends from church, but I don’t want to live in a safe Christian bubble any more. I want to be surrounded by people from all walks of life, from all over the world. And London is a thriving hub of multi-culture, so it’s the perfect place to start.

Everyone is a brother or sister in Christ, no matter of race, religion or political position. So let’s swallow our pride and opinions for a minute, and get out of our comfort zones a little in our social lives.

Do you struggle to mix with people that are very different to you? Or do you enjoy debates and discussions? Leave a comment. 

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Independence Isn’t Cool

Not sure if you know, but I’m actually really cool. I moved abroad and I barely even call home because I don’t need family anymore. So independent, so cool.

Yeah, and I often just block God out and say ‘I’ve got this’, because I’m that capable and awesome. I can make it on my own.

If you didn’t already know how hip and cool I am, that’s because I’m not at all.

I’ve just created the belief in my head that doing life on my own makes me awesome, which is entirely untrue. All that my independence does is show me up for my fear of vulnerability and my arrogance, which is so not cool.

Strength is important to have so that we can dodge the curve balls that life throws at us. However strength and independence are not the same, and independence is not the goal. Independence from people is lonely. Independence from God? That’s a sin.

“I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing.” John 15:5

Yes, I can stand on my own two feet. I am capable of looking after myself and had to learn pretty fast, which is great and something I am proud of. But I am never enough. I still need God, need my family, and need my friends. That is not a sign of weakness or a bad thing in the slightest, which I am only just beginning to accept.

Vulnerability is strength unarmed.

I started to think about all this recently when I was really ill. I had a nasty virus and was bed ridden for the best part of 7 days. It was horrible and it was the loneliest I had felt in a long time. I could have reached out to my friends and my housemates for help. I didn’t because I didn’t want to bother anyone or look completely pathetic.

If I didn’t try to do it on my own, that week wouldn’t have been so dark for me. I would have had food in the house and regained strength, but instead I didn’t eat for over a day and got worse. Pa-the-tic.

I’m probably more vulnerable with my counselor than anyone. When I saw him and we talked about my week, it came out: I desperately needed love and attention but I was too scared to ask for it. The independence was a facade to hide that.

I’m learning that fierce independence is more pathetic than vulnerability. It’s a guard so that people can’t see what’s really going on. It’s isolating and dangerous.

The main point is that we all need support, and though we all need a level of independence as adults, taking it too far isn’t cool.

So I quit, because to be vulnerable is to truly be strong.

Can you relate? Are you independent, or do you struggle to be independent? Leave a comment. 

That Gut Feeling

When something is meant to be, you can’t go against it.

You know the feeling, where your heart burns because it’s the truest thing you’ve ever known? Maybe it’s also the riskiest thing you’ve ever thought, and it has the potential to go terribly wrong. That’s even better. And you can’t help but go and do it, because you just know. It’s the greatest and worst feeling in the world!

But you must listen to your instincts, even if you don’t want to. Because really, deep down, you do want to. You want to know why you feel this strongly and if there’s anything in it. Well, as the old cliché goes, you won’t know until you try. But usually those really strong feelings are right. They don’t come around often but it’s a pretty big deal when they do. From my experience, anyway…

It was end of 2007 and I had just finished high school in my hometown of Auckland, New Zealand. My heart was set on moving to London after I had been talking with a family about becoming their nanny in the new year. But (there’s always a but), I had no money, no visa or passport and I was meant to be starting work in the UK in a mere 4 weeks time. Plus, moving across the world seemed a little drastic, right? In circumstance, everything was going against me. But God had spoken and I listened, because I knew in my Spirit it was the right thing. In my eyes I had no other choice.

Everyone doubted and questioned that I had heard right, including my supportive mum who had always trusted me in the past. But He had said I would get the British passport that I was barely liable for, and I knew that I would. I just knew. Partly because God is faithful to His promises, and because there was a fire in my gut that couldn’t be extinguished. I simply had to go.

Then my future employer apologetically asked me if we could move my starting date back a few months, as things had changed for them in London. Little did she know that this was perfect for me! It meant I could save some money and it bought me more time to wait on that much coveted British passport I had been promised.

Yes I was scared of moving so far away to effectively no one. I had a one way flight and no back-up money. If it didn’t work out, I was screwed. But thankfully I did have a job to start and a house to live in. That was more than enough, because the ferocity of my desire to travel and my faith in my conviction outweighed all fear.

Obviously I got the passport, and moving to London is the best thing I’ve ever done. It will always be high on the list of my big life decisions, because it was purposed and the timing was absolutely perfect. God knew what was coming and he took me out of my home-town and my only known reality, so that I could flourish as a young woman.

These words do not justify what I went through before coming here, and this ‘knowing’ business may have been an experience unique to me, though I have a feeling it isn’t. I suspect you know this fire I speak of, either because you’ve been there or you’re there now.

I trusted God and I trusted myself. If there’s a fire in your belly to take a big step, probably with large repercussions (in either direction), I encourage you to trust in what your heart’s telling you. Only you can make these big changes in your life and only you really know what’s right. Don’t be told by anyone.

God is in you, He has given you free choice and He has given you those very real human instincts. Pray to him, submit to Him, trust Him with all your plans.

Then…. Listen to the fire.

Have you ever felt something really strongly and followed your instincts? Share your story in the comments!

That Gut Feeling

When something is meant to be, you can’t go against it.

You know the feeling, where your heart burns because it’s the truest thing you’ve ever known? Maybe it’s also the riskiest thing you’ve ever thought, and it has the potential to go terribly wrong. That’s even better. And you can’t help but go and do it, because you just know. It’s the greatest and worst feeling in the world!

But you must listen to your instincts, even if you don’t want to. Because really, deep down, you do want to. You want to know why you feel this strongly and if there’s anything in it. Well, as the old cliché goes, you won’t know until you try. But usually those really strong feelings are right. They don’t come around often but it’s a pretty big deal when they do. From my experience, anyway…

It was end of 2007 and I had just finished high school in my hometown of Auckland, New Zealand. My heart was set on moving to London after I had been talking with a family about becoming their nanny in the new year. But (there’s always a but), I had no money, no visa or passport and I was meant to be starting work in the UK in a mere 4 weeks time. Plus, moving across the world seemed a little drastic, right? In circumstance, everything was going against me. But God had spoken and I listened, because I knew in my Spirit it was the right thing. In my eyes I had no other choice.

Everyone doubted and questioned that I had heard right, including my supportive mum who had always trusted me in the past. But He had said I would get the British passport that I was barely liable for, and I knew that I would. I just knew. Partly because God is faithful to His promises, and because there was a fire in my gut that couldn’t be extinguished. I simply had to go.

Then my future employer apologetically asked me if we could move my starting date back a few months, as things had changed for them in London. Little did she know that this was perfect for me! It meant I could save some money and it bought me more time to wait on that much coveted British passport I had been promised.

Yes I was scared of moving so far away to effectively no one. I had a one way flight and no back-up money. If it didn’t work out, I was screwed. But thankfully I did have a job to start and a house to live in. That was more than enough, because the ferocity of my desire to travel and my faith in my conviction outweighed all fear.

Obviously I got the passport, and moving to London is the best thing I’ve ever done. It will always be high on the list of my big life decisions, because it was purposed and the timing was absolutely perfect. God knew what was coming and he took me out of my home-town and my only known reality, so that I could flourish as a young woman.

These words do not justify what I went through before coming here, and this ‘knowing’ business may have been an experience unique to me, though I have a feeling it isn’t. I suspect you know this fire I speak of, either because you’ve been there or you’re there now.

I trusted God and I trusted myself. If there’s a fire in your belly to take a big step, probably with large repercussions (in either direction), I encourage you to trust in what your heart’s telling you. Only you can make these big changes in your life and only you really know what’s right. Don’t be told by anyone.

God is in you, He has given you free choice and He has given you those very real human instincts. Pray to him, submit to Him, trust Him with all your plans.

Then…. Listen to the fire.

Have you ever felt something really strongly and followed your instincts? Share your story in the comments!

I’m a Sunday Christian

My best friend called me out tonight. I love it when she does that because that’s what good friends do. This time it was hard to take because she hit me right where it hurt. She was right and I couldn’t deny it.

Let me give you a bit of back story.

I have my good and bad days. I have my good and bad moments. I went to church on Sunday evening and I was having a really good moment. I even tweeted about it, probably a little too righteously. There I was, worshipping Jesus and declaring how much I trusted Him, and really, truly, meaning it. Now that doesn’t happen everyday. We declare these song lyrics in church in faith, even when on the inside we are freaking out about how we’re going to pay the rent. Any honest Christian will tell you that.

But this particular Sunday, I meant it and knew it was true. I’ve had to trust God over the past few months just to get out of bed. And I can hand-on-heart say that He is faithful and He has never left my side. It brought tears to my eyes on Sunday to know that I trusted Him and that this would overjoy Him. I want to overjoy my Lord.

Then what happened? Well, I went home and screwed up all that trusting! I literally forgot what I had just been through at church, all because I saw something I shouldn’t have, and I immediately lost.the.plot. Within moments I was a snotty-nosed, un-trusting and pathetic mess. Poor old me, eh?

That right there, is the perfect example of ‘Sunday Christian’ behaviour. And it was still Sunday! I don’t want to know what kind of Christian that makes me. (Disclaimer: Not the sarcasm, people.)

Long story short, I cried, called my bestie and then fell asleep feeling rather ‘woe is me’. Bring on Monday (today) and cue previously mentioned bestie with ‘What was that tweet about? Did you really mean that or was that for show?’ OUCH. ‘Yes, I really did mean it… and then I came home… and… and.’

I didn’t have a good explanation except that I forgot.

I momentarily forgot the promises and faithfulness of God, and instead I welcomed fear, confusion, and sadness. I was the hostess (with the mostess) for my own spectacular pity party. I would have invited you but you’re probably not depressing enough.

It’s natural to forget and God definitely ain’t upstairs cussing me out for forgetting His goodness. He is right where He’s always been; with me. In that moment when I was hurting, He was holding me. Today he walked beside me because I was strong enough to walk by myself. But He never leaves me and whenever I fall, He is there to lift me back up again.

He wants us to trust Him because it’s the best thing for us, and it allows Him to do so much more in our lives. When we don’t, He doesn’t throw a tantrum and say ‘well, I told you so kiddo’. He is too big and mysterious for us to put into a box and to always understand, but that doesn’t mean what He is doing isn’t good. He teaches us and it’s important that we learn.

I’ve learned from last night, so I journalled it and hopefully next time I’m tempted to throw all my toys out of the pram, I’ll be reminded.

He is good. Please do better than me at remembering on days Monday to Saturday that He is good.

Do you know what I’m talking about? Let me know about your trusting journey in the comments.

Please ‘like’ or tweet this post if you enjoyed reading. Thank you.

Striving for Fruit

Have you ever tried so hard to change something about yourself and failed miserably? Striving. It doesn’t get you anywhere. It is a long and defeating road, one that I have been on for too long and am learning to stay away from.

Jesus did it all for us. We don’t have to do anything, we just have to accept it. Which is the hardest part. One day I had a revelation that I would become the person I wanted to be through the overflow of God’s love… And I have never been the same since.

‘But the fruits of the spirit are love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.’
Galations 5:22

Wouldn’t you love to be a person that radiated these qualities of Christ? I know I would be. And after 21 years of trying to have these qualities in my own strength, I can safely say that it has not worked. These are fruits of the spirit – they can only truly come from God! Through spending time with Him, studying His word and asking that you would bear His fruit. Because he is the vine, and no one can bear fruit if they are not connected to the vine. Fact.

Just a thought for the day.