He Came.

...and You came for me, Lord, the unlikeliest of unlikelies, the sorriest of sinners, the runt of the litter, the last of the crop. For me, the undeserving.

You came for the sole and glorious purpose of saving me. Me, a dirty sinner. Me, a no-good nobody.

You humbled and, at times, humiliated Yourself so that I might be given a second chance. A better chance than any I ever would have gotten otherwise. A better chance than I could ever obtain, attain, or deserve.

You gave up all You had so that I could have it. You gave me all I have so I could give it all back.

You came--You slept on the hay, You suffered the ridicule, You turned the tables and You rolled away the stone--all for me. All for a sin-stained villain like me.

I bet that took a lot of love. A lot of courage? A lot of selflessness and a lot of humility.

Why'd You do it, Lord? I don't know if I would have. Suffer the pain and heartbreaks of this world--die a slow and painful death on a tree--to save an ignorant, hypocritical human like me? It sounds unthinkable. It seems crazy.

But You must have really cared. You must have really wanted to do all that--all those horrors, all for me.

You came as a fragile newborn.

You suffered.

You bled.

You died.

You came from Heaven to Earth, from glory to filth, from splendor to sorrow.

For me.

Cradle to coffin, manger to tree--

Thank You for coming, Lord.

Coming for me. ✧

Remembrance

Another winter. Another year.

What happened to time?

No matter. It's now now, so now's all that really matters.

Yesterday is a thing of the past--it cannot and will not be changed, so the best we can do is learn something from it, love it, and let it go.

It is time to look ahead.

It is time to press forward.

Lift your chin. Say a prayer. Smile. Practice what you preach. And for Heaven's sake, remember.

Remember the things worth remembering.

Remember the honorable, pure, lovely, holy and true things.

Remember the guidelines.

Remember the grace.

Remember who you are, Whose you are, and where you're going.

Remember what you've conquered.

Remember to remember.

Remember Him.

Remember His promises.

This is not over--every day, every now, it is only beginning.

Remember the good. The important. The promised.

And if you remember one thing, remember this:

Egerthe! He is risen! Do not despair. Be of good courage! He is coming again, coming soon, so remember to speak up and to reach out. Better days are on the way and death is not the victor. The devil will not win! he will not triumph! Technically speaking, he is already defeated.

Lay claim to the promises, lay claim to hope.

Breathe.

Be.

Let your heart beat in peace.

Egerthe, remember.

He is risen.

Time for you to rise up as well.

​--Emily 🍂

Only One

How many kings would step down from their thrones--how many lords would abandon their homes--how many "greats" would become the "least of these"--how many gods would pour out their hearts (to romance a world that is torn all apart)--how many fathers would give up their sons.. for me?
-
Only One did that for me!
-
--Our God is not a stand-back, in-the-shadows, sedentary God. He is not a standoffish God or an unsmiling God or a snooty God. Our God is a down-and-personal, down-and-dirty kind of God.
--He is the kind of God Who gives up His comfort, His stature, His high standing, and His dignity--for us.
--He is the kind of God Who willingly becomes a fragile mortal and then extends His newly-human hand to our own dirty, hammer-and-nail-wielding ones.
--He is the kind of God Who steps out of His perfect light to enter into our frothing darkness, soothe our weary souls, and gently lead us back into the light with Him.
--He is the kind of God Who humbles Himself, Who closes the door on His trophy room, sweeps His gold-plated name placard off His gilt-edged desk, and takes off His Rolex watch and designer suits to dress in simple rags just like the ones we're wearing.
--He is the kind of God Who sits down in the tear-soaked ashes with us and simply holds us, simply listens, simply loves.
--He is the kind of God Who becomes voluntarily vulnerable so that He feels all the same pains we do and knows all the hardships we bemoan.
--He is the kind of God Who looks far past our stains and our splotches and our sins and takes our hearts, our filthy, filthy hearts, and loves us anyway.
--He is the kind of God--the ONLY kind of God--Who simply welcomes us in with wide open arms and nail-scarred hands and reminds us that we--yes, we--with the unforgivable sins and the unbelievable transgressions--that we are His own dearly beloved children, His own precious creations.
-
Our God is the God Who loved us--Who LOVES us--so much that He would sacrifice His Son, that He would give up his dignity, His comfort, and His life, all for us. All because He loves us.
-
"Only One did that... for me." ~Marc Martel
-
Our God is a great, great, great God.
Merry almost-almost-Christmas season. 💚

Time to Shine

How long will I be silent?
How long will I turn a blind eye to injustice?

If I do nothing at all, that's exactly what will happen.

Nothing.

I have been closed up and turned off for far too long. I have succumbed to the roaring of the wind and the icy grip of the dark. The voice I am letting control me, the voice telling me which step to take...

Actually, it is mine.

My own misshapen voice.

Were I to be inhabiting a perfect world, a bright world, one full of truth--my voice would not be so misled.

But there is dark surrounding these stiff shoulders of mine, and I have allowed such darkness to infiltrate my decisions and to stifle my ambition.

Were I to be inhabiting a perfect world, I would be perfect.

But I do not.

So I am not.

This is no excuse, however, no matter its undeniable weight. The trick of this life is to learn how to shine boldly and brightly despite the darkness, not cower because of it.

And so I pose these two hefty questions:

How long will I stay silent?
How long will I turn a blind eye to injustice?

This is no time to shrink away from the night--in fact, this is the very time to rise up against it. To bring out all that is in me, all that is true and pure and good, and let it shine so brilliantly that the dark is forced to recede.

This is the time to stand up and stand strong, to band together with all who still shine, and to march boldly into that unending night--to fight it and denounce it and to rescue its captives--until the thickest fog has completely disappeared and all that is left is the glorious Son: shining, shining in the blue sky of true freedom.

This is the time to scrutinize the past for its highs and its lows; to scrub the present from top to bottom; and to make for the future a path of pure hope. This is the time to realize where we've gone wrong and then to put into action a battle plan to correct and make clean. This is the time to open our eyes and plant our feet.

This is the time to start shining again--no matter the pressure, no matter the price.

Time to shine. 🍂

He Still Reigns

Did you know
That someone died today?
It happened in a breath.
The leaf fell,
The door closed,
The alarm clock rang.
Somewhere
Someone
Is mourning.
All those gold and sunny melodies
Have been dusted with a sheen of gray.
The sun has blinked,
The clock has flickered.
Yesterday they were laughing.
Yesterday you were laughing.
Or sulking.
Or sad.
Today there is sorrow dripping from the sky;
Today there is sorrow in tiny raindrop capsules.
God was in the sun of yesterday.
Of course He was.
Obviously.
But is He yet here
Right here
In the rain?
In these gloomy days and darkened skies,
He is still there.
He is very much there.
Perhaps His touch is tinged with something other than what you were awaiting,
Perhaps He is fulfilling a purpose you could never comprehend.
But for all you do not know,
Know this:
God is still here.
He is still the same.
Your circumstances may have changed--
But not God.
Not Him.
Even in your pouring rain,
He
Still
Reigns. 🍂

A Raw Confession

This is a moment of weakness, and this is a semi-impulsive post.
My emotions are running high (low?) per usual, and, per usual, I am feeling--in a considerably untimely manner--like writing something full of passion and promise and pain.
This one might be heavy on the pain.
And the passion.
As you'll come to (or have already come to) see, I am imperfect. I am cracked. I am broken. I am crazy and ridiculous and unprofessional and weird and not normal. (Is anybody normal? Sometimes it seems like everyone but me...)
Currently, I am searching. Not for faith--I already "found" that quite some time ago, though I am trying to try to make it stronger.
Currently, I am hurting. I am confused. I am puzzled and sorrowful and stricken and feeling just the slightest bit hopeless. Not in God--I know He'll always come through. I am feeling hopeless in myself. I am feeling like I may never really improve or get fixed or be normal or return to the me I once was... the me I'm pretty sure I once was... the me I would very much like to be.
Currently, this moment, I am here. I am writing and thinking and hoping and longing.
You are currently reading this.
(Thank you.)
Currently we are both. We are just both. We are me and you together, you and me, us, combined, one unto ourselves.
I am grateful to you for listening and you are--dare I say--expanded for doing so.
Thank you.
Here goes.
-----
Well my self-esteem dropped
And my weight went up
And one of my best friends has a boyfriend...
-
I'm losing everything I hold dear
'Cuz I'm losing myself
-
I don't think anybody can help me
Or even understand me
It all makes me feel so lonely
And empty
Please help me
-
But I can't even cry
I'm just too worn to try
To get up again.....
-----
(It's a song. A messy one, thought up in the shower and sloppily penned, with improper grammar and incorrect sentence structure. A gem, I know, you are quite welcome, no need to thank.)
I am incomprehensible.
These feelings... these pieces of my inner self... they are nearly untouchable. Unsolvable.
I cannot explain to you and you cannot comprehend.
That is just the way it is.
There are blotches in my head, my heart, my mind, my soul, my self, that cannot be understood or pinpointed or eradicated.
I wish they could.
Maybe they can be.
But currently I am not feeling such hope.
I am all messed up, all mixed-around, all upside-down and topsy-turvy. I do not understand myself and don't know where I left the path. What happened to me? A good question, one that begs a much-needed answer, but I do not have it and am afraid I never will.
---
This is a Raw Confession, and you are nearly an angel (metaphorically speaking, mind you).
This a burst of evening emotion.
Come morning I will feel differently. Perhaps I will even regret pressing "publish". I will reevaluate, reconsider, rethink myself, my words, my claims.
But right now--currently--this is how I am feeling.
This is what's up.
This is it.
---
Thank You. ♱🍃

Let it Live

On abortion:

-

That "thing" you are killing is a LIFE.

It - no matter how old - is a BABY.

It has a purpose.

It was created and made with intention.

It is not an accident.

It is destined for great things.

It is ALIVE!

-

It had a purpose before it had a heartbeat.

It was designed and created and given a life that is no one's to destroy.

When you abort a baby, you murder it.

-

But you don't just kill the baby.

-

You kill its future, its purpose, its dreams, its destiny, and all the glorious things it had in store.

You kill a sibling, a friend, a child, a student, a scholar, a lawyer, a teacher, a marine, a pastor,
a doctor, an entrepreneur, a president, a scientist, an author, a celebrity, a musician, an artist,
a farmer, a human.

By aborting a baby, you're aborting an entire beautiful melodrama of a life -- very close to the
one you yourself are living.

That baby you're aborting is you. It's me. It's your President, your boss, your best friend, your
teacher, your favorite celebrity.

-

Maybe you made a wrong decision.

Maybe a wrong decision made off with you.

But no matter how that baby got there, it is not yours to exterminate. It was placed there with
purpose and stamped with intention.

-.

Let it alone.

-

Let it live. 💚

Keep On

Failure is not defeat.
It is not fatal.
Failure is the falling down;
Defeat is the staying down;
Victory is the getting back up.
-
Everybody falls down--
I fall down.
You fall down.
Miss America falls down.
The President falls down.
We all do.
Some of us stay down;
Some of us get back up.
Who will YOU be?
-
Will you stay down when everyone else is getting up?
Will you get up when everyone else is staying down?
The priority here is that YOU simply get back up.
But after you've made it -- and you WILL make it, my friend -- don't just stay safely up on your mountain peak.
-
Go back.
-
Go back down to the valley, plant your feet, and help others get up.
You don't have to fall down to help the fallen.
You can still reach to them from your stance on higher ground.
-
So don't be afraid to fall down, friend.
It will happen.
It happens to all of us.
And you can't always control whether or not you fall, but the one thing you CAN control is how you respond.
Don't be scared.
Don't be discouraged.
-
Get back up and keep on climbing. 🍂

Struggle Story

Welcome to the struggle. Navigating your way through piles of bills, screaming kids, looming deadlines, nasty coworkers, ruthless peers, debilitating depression, too much to do and too little time to do it in.

Maybe you pray. Maybe you search the Bible (when you’re not mopping spilled milk off the floor or finishing paperwork at 2 AM). But maybe, sometimes, you start to doubt. What do eviction notices and inescapable heartbreaks have to do with God’s purpose for my life?

The truth? Everything.

Still doubtful? Well, since we have a spare moment, let’s pick up where we left off in that coffee-stained, jelly-stained, tearstained Bible of yours.

Let’s take a look at the life stories of some of God’s greatest heroes: desert-bound Abraham, who took a 600-mile trek through barren wastelands to settle down someplace he’d never even heard of; wandering Moses, who led the stubbornly disobedient Israelites on a 40-year hike through the desert; down-on-his-luck Job, who lost everything he held dear on a whim of the Devil.

(And you thought you had problems.)

At first glance, the lives of these Bible heroes look way less than glamorous-- are they are. Decades of wandering, of suffering, of heartache, of pain. Doesn’t sound much like a happily-ever-after fairytale, does it?

Truth is: it’s not. But that’s the thing-- God doesn’t use fairy tales for His mission. He uses the oddball, the ordinary, and the less-than-perfect. He uses you! (Even if you still haven’t gotten around to removing the grape-juice stain from the living room carpet.)

“But why would God want me to go through all these struggles?” you ask. “What purpose do they serve in God’s purpose for my life?”

Let’s go back to Abe, Mo, and Job for that one.

Abraham made a big move to the great unknown because God told him to. It was long, hard, and puzzling-- why leave prosperity for “perhaps”?

Moses traversed barren deserts (along with his divinely-ignorant Israelite friends) for four decades because God told him to. It was hot, challenging, and seemingly pointless-- why follow an invisible God through the Land of Nowhere if Egypt had been sufficient?

Finally, Job. Job lost everything-- livestock, children, a way of life-- all because God gave Satan the OK. Why would a good and perfect God--with our best interests in mind--allow such sorrow to befall us?

Here’s my point: Abraham took a leap of faith and left all he’d ever known. And what did God do? He gave Abe a promised land.

Moses took a leap of faith and led his misbehaving people on a looong trek across lifeless wastelands. And what did God do? He gave the Israelites a promise fulfilled--land for their people and freedom for themselves.

Job had a lot of faith-- and lost all he owned. And what did God do? He replaced everything and then some.

-

So here’s my message to you-- you with your broken dishwasher, your overdue electricity bill, your tardy English essay and your life crumbling apart:

God is using your struggles for His glory. He is taking all your everyday messes and making something extraordinarily beautiful, something far better than a happy ending; He is weaving your pain, your heartaches, and your difficulties into His glorious grand design.

It may not be pretty, and it may not be painless, but something remarkable will come of these trials of yours (broken dishes, broken bones, and broken lives included).

So here-- grab my hand, and we can take that fabulously freeing leap of faith together--

The stack of bills can wait. 🍂

Tendrils of the Night

So here we are again.

Nighttime.

10-12 hours of relative darkness. Stars come out. Sun goes away. Crickets chirp, bats screech, owls call.

Somewhere, there's the faint sound of a lullaby.

New emotions surface now as well. Gone is the innocent mirth of sunshine and butterfly daydreams.

Now there is darkness, and darkness is strong.

Thus, many dark-tended emotions bubble up to the surface.

Fear.
Sorrow.
Longing.
Grief.
Pain.
Guilt.
Regret.
Anger.

But somewhere in the space between the moonlight and the dawn, there drifts a sort of peace, a kind of happiness.

It floats in through your window on the wings of the dusk.

Comfort.
Joy.
Gentle
Soothing
Calming
Sweet.

It is the tendrils of the night, reaching out to your fettered soul, releasing your burdens, setting you free.

The place you fall to your knees becomes the place you find the strength to rise again, and suddenly the darkness doesn't seem quite so imposing.

There is a light deep inside you, somewhere the night can never reach; a tiny, flickering flame, powerful beyond its own capability.

Indeed, it is not the power of the flame that keeps it lit-- it is the power of The One Who lights it.

He'll help you shine, and He'll shine for you.

And lo--

Dreaded darkness begone. 🍃

Lullaby

     Lullabies. Remember them? You were small and the night was big. You were scared and the dark was bold. You were vulnerable and the monster under the bed was anything but.
     And so... lullabies.
     Sweet, soothing melodies sung by compassionate parents, talented singers, well-loved CDs.
     And voila.
     An army of music notes won the battle, and sleep was yours to claim.
     Lullabies. Remember?
     Of course, the last time you heard a lullaby was probably because it was playing for your child, or your charge, or someone much younger than you. Lullabies, after all, are for babies. Young ones. Those who are weak and afraid and need some reassurance. And you're strong now. You don't need them. Right?
    Well... wrong.
     You may not be plagued by the monster under the bed anymore, but ceaselessly your boat is tossed by the winds and waves of life, is it not?
     Sickness. Sorrow. Bills. Bullies. Bad days. Death. Loss. Defeat.
     The darkness has descended on your frail and trembling soul, but you fear there's no way out of this mess. After all, you're on your own now. Right?
     Wrong again.
     Even when you're all grown up, even when you're on your own, even when you've lost the music--you are not alone.
     You are not too strong for a lullaby. And you never will be.
     In your darkest moments, don't depend on yourself. Open your heart and your head to the lullabies you once knew--maybe even the ones you never heard before.
     It is there in the endless darkness that hope will rise anew. Welcome the song, embrace the music.
     Let the lullaby of God see you through your darkest night. 🍂