Musings.

"The best equipping is living

in My presence,

My hand that never lets go of yours. 

Discuss everything with Me... Remember that 

I am on your side, and that I have overcome the world."

Often I live as if I'm on the losing side of the battle. I find myself focusing on my insecurities and I allow the little nagging thoughts of doubt take root and idly observe as they begin to bloom. 

I've been reading through John; a chronicled account of Jesus' coming and going, of His passionate and radical and beautifully messy lifestyle. I find hope in that, because I can identify with the messy. I identify with the characters that encounter Him; with the woman at the well in chapter 4 who is caught up in something that she tries to hide and He calls her out in love, drawing her in to drink of His wellspring, calling her into true life. 

I identify with the blind man in chapter 9 who, without question, did exactly as Jesus instructed and was able to see for the first time, tasting the freedom of His gift fully.

And while I find a common ground with many of these ancient characters, I take heart in the fact that my God is indeed the Father of all, that He is Mighty, Strong, a Wonderful Counselor and a God of unabashed Love. And I find that, rather than taking up the mindset of the defeated, He has given me the Spirit, and  "He who believes in Me [Jesus], as the Scripture has said, out of his heart will flow rivers of living water". (John 7:38) 

We constantly live in a place of war within ourselves; trying to decide whether to follow our hearts or follow that which we know to be true. We borrow advice from the deep places in our hearts and believe them to be absolute truth without testing them first, however, Jeremiah 17:9 challenges that very concept;

The heart is deceitful above all things,

and desperately sick,

who can understand it?

You know what strikes me? Not even the fact that my heart is deceitful above ALL things, but that it is desperately sick. My heart. My heart, which has been seeking and craving and running after God for years. My heart, which I want with every part of me to believe is good and whole and pure. But even in saying that, I know that my assumptions are incorrect. 

I am flawed; I am desperately sick; and I am grateful for this.

Because that gives me a chance to be like the blind man; to be in a place of humility and raw desperation where my Jesus can place His hands over me and instruct me towards healing. Because He promises that in my belief of Him, He will equip me with the Holy Spirit, which will flow from me like a river of water, quenching the dark and spreading light within. Because my flaws are the very things He is going to heal when I enter into His kingdom for the rest of eternity. Because when I am passing through His gates into His glorious, unleashed presence, I will experience Him like never before.

I know that in Him I am on the winning side. That I don't have to strive to fight the battle in my own strength, but that He is next to me grinning, effortlessly holding up His defense against the enemy and urging me to do the same, drawing from His unending strength. 

He is my Champion. He has overcome.

Eruption.

I forget that this life is temporary. I settle into patterns and thought-processes and embed in myself a desire and a drive that line up with the idea that this moment in time is all that there is...that my actions and thoughts and words won't affect people. That I can do or say or think anything I want and it won't go further than me and my mind and my immediate surroundings.

How wrong I am to assume. I've been living out this pattern of supposition for the past six months, and am barely on the brink of realizing what it means to push outside of myself in certain areas. This month has been wild. It's been full of frustration, of confusion, of freedoms and of revelations. One of the joys (and curses) of living in community is that most of your life is on display for all to see. And when you mess up--when you make a wrong decision or aren't careful about guarding your heart and mind--everyone knows. It's equivalent to standing center-stage at a concert and knowing that every eye is on you, knowing that if you miss a single note while singing or hit the wrong chord, someone will always know. There are no secrets when you're standing center stage.

I recently made some poor decisions within the relationships that I've built, and I haven't realized until this past week just how badly those decisions affected the entire community. My actions and decisions hurt those around me, especially the girls within my small group and the women within the staff. I broke the trust that had been built between us and I refused to acknowledge it. I lied to myself, convinced myself that I wasn't hurting anyone, justified my actions by telling myself that I was following my heart. None of those lies held, however. The mitigation of my actions within my own mind deteriorated as I looked into the eyes of those that I've hurt, heard their words as they expressed their frustration and anger, felt their pain radiating from them as they asked the tortured questions; "Why was I not good enough for you?" 

I can't undo what's happened. I can't take back the ache that I've caused in the lives of those around me. I can't take away from the fact that I did mess up. I won't minimize the pain of the circumstances; my own heart has been broken throughout this process. We had a meeting involving the entire staff and student body last week, and I had the opportunity to own my shit in front of everyone. I splayed myself out and took the fall that I knew had been coming, and as I looked around the room, I felt a shattering inside of me. Out of 30+ people, I could count on one hand those who would look me in the eye. I felt the anger and betrayal emanating within the room and the walls within my own heart crumbled. I will not deny my actions, but I can and will be proactive with where I presently am. I will walk forward and continue to move, continue to be open and vulnerable, making a conscious effort every day to be one hundred percent authentic in my words and actions as I converse with others. I will choose to walk in light when I've been walking in darkness. I will choose to be filled with integrity and an honesty that transcends that which I have been walking in.

Relationships are building again, trust is being reconstructed, and I find myself being able to truly smile within the past few days. Joy is something that I have to embrace daily, but the beauty of this entire situation is that it's a story of redemption. It's a story of the fascinating and wonderful and breathtakingly passionate love that my Father has for me and for those wrapped up in this.

I'm still processing and will continue to process and write, because this is just the beginning of the journey, and He is just furthering His work to perfect me. I will take heart in the fact that He has overcome the world (John 16:33) and that He will continue to refine me in the process. In everything, I will not forget that He has been broken so that I may be shaped into some creature of beauty and wholeness. I choose to embrace Him and to walk forward in the freedom that He continues to so gracefully provide; head held high and proceeding humbly before Him.

Forfeit.

You know what the greatest tragedy in life is? It's someone whose god gets smaller and smaller with each passing day.

Maybe it's time to stop placing four-dimensional limits on God. Maybe it's time to stop putting God in a box the size of your cerebral cortex. Maybe it's time to stop creating God in your image and let Him create you in His.

The more we grow, the bigger God should get. And the bigger God gets, the smaller our lions will become.

- Mark Batterson

I'm currently reading a book called 'In a Pit With a Lion on a Snowy Day', written by Mark Batterson. It uses the story of Benaiah, from 2 Samuel 23. All we know about Benaiah is this:

Benaiah son of Jehoiada, a valiant fighter from Kabzeel, performed great exploits. He struck down Moab’s two mightiest warriors. He also went down into a pit on a snowy day and killed a lion. And he struck down a huge Egyptian. Although the Egyptian had a spear in his hand, Benaiah went against him with a club. He snatched the spear from the Egyptian’s hand and killed him with his own spear. (2 Sam. 23:20-21)

This book focuses on the fact that Benaiah followed a lion into a snowy pit... and killed it. Generally, one would never follow a lion down into a dark, snowy, cold pit with the sole purpose of killing it. Snow inhibits us as humans, it makes us cold and stiff. It's hard to maneuver in. And in the dark of a pit, it's even more slippery than usual because it's potentially crystallized into ice. Lions have superior vision to humans in the darkness; their eyes let in more light than ours, and they can see in the dark. They have four huge, sure paws and a thick fur coat to protect themselves from the cold. Clearly, the lion had the advantage.

Yet Benaiah wasn't fearful enough to run away from it; rather, he pursued this lion into it's own territory and killed it.

This is a wonderful analogy for my own personal fears. As I'm reading this book, I've been mulling over the fact that I have so many more fears underneath my surface than I imagined. I was sitting on the end of the dock last night, staring out at the deep black hovering over the sea, and I was intimately aware of the fact that I had fear welling up inside of me. I spent a good amount of time trying to decipher what the fear was from and I realized that, just as this book states, I've been putting my God into a four-dimensional box. I've been containing Him within the realms of my mind because that's what I understand. I can't understand or fathom the greatness of Him when He is outside of the confines that I've placed Him in.

This past week has been one of many such realizations, and I am actively taking a stand against the fear that so easily entangles me. I'm coming against the fear that my Father cannot protect me. I give up the control that I so desperately want to have, because I trust myself... and I choose to trust Him instead. I break the fear of failure, the fear of being hurt. I claim the freedom that has always been here, has always been placed in front of me, and I choose to dance in His wild and beautiful and fierce and loving presence with an expectancy of more life, of more depth.

I had a vision of myself dancing and twirling on top of the ocean, clothed in garments of silver, my hair flowing behind me, streaked with purple and gold, my eyes burning with an intense joy. A single crystalline tear traveled down my face, and I grinned. That was it. No explanation came for a few moments, and then I started to pray it out, and it made so much sense. I want to dance in the royalty and the raw, wild joy that He has given me. I will let myself be vulnerable, let my emotions show like that single tear on my cheek, clear and shining and real. I will let myself do the impossible; dancing on water and laughing in the face of the fear that says that I can't.

I will not forfeit my dreams for fear of the unknown. My dreams hold a weight of enormity; they speak of passion and they cry out for adventure. I will not quench or silence these dreams and ambitions because of the fear of inadequacy. I will tame my fear. I will walk in His freedom. And I will kill the lions within, because in Him, I can slaughter beasts and love the unlovable in the same breath.

My God will not be placed in a box.

I Have a Voice

There are nights when I sit on the dock and look out into the deep black that is the ocean in front of me, wondering why in the world I have been called to be here. I lean against the pole of the palapa roof that is hovering over my head, breathing the salt-and-wind laced air that is my constant companion.

I don't feel inadequate here; I can honestly say that that isn't what makes me question. I love what I do, I love the leadership role that I am in. I love being immersed in a culture that revolves around the Father from whom we all came. I wouldn't do any of this differently. Maybe 'why' isn't necessarily the correct question; rather, how? How am I equipped to continue to live here? How am I going to fulfill the calling that I know has been placed on my life? I have been called to inspire; to reach the college-age generation and to speak life and meaning and purpose over them. To call the youth of this world up into leadership, into a life-bringing people whose energy spills from them, engulfing those around and reaching to the depths of the souls that are hurting and crying out for freedom. I am called to protect and feed the weak, to encourage and challenge and push the strong, to call out the apathetic and to love on the hurting.

I am called to use my voice.

I had the incredible opportunity to teach one day of lectures here at YWAM Destination Paradise. I had 3 hours on January 17th to teach our students about leaving a legacy of integrity. However, you can't leave a legacy without knowing first who you are, without being secure in your identity. I taught on how to find your identity in Christ, about how to leave the baggage that we so easily and so harshly pack for ourselves and carry with us throughout our lives; those things that we are ashamed of and worried about and the things that we feel make us "dirty" or "unlovable" or "slutty" or a "jackass". Those things that we haul around that label us "unworthy", "abusive", "selfish", "stupid". These are things we are called to drop; to abandon and to leave behind us as we step into a new identity: an identity reflecting Isaiah 62.

I spent three hours speaking life into these students, praying over them and seeking God for truths and freedom to speak into their lives. I knew as soon as I stepped up in front of the students that this was where I wanted to be; in front of young adults, speaking life and love and freedom and healing over them. I am called to fulfill Isaiah 61; calling healing into people's lives and freeing the captives from their hurt and the chains that have so easily entangled them in the past.

Teaching is something that I know will be a part of my future with YWAM, whether it's just here at DP, or I might decide to develop my own teaching week. We'll see what God has for me. So far, this school has been wonderful; it's been challenging in it's own way, but I can see God moving so freely and so beautifully in the lives of everyone on base here; staff and students alike.

This past week has been particularly challenging for me; I'm learning to walk further in the truths that God's speaking over me and am finding areas that still need healing from my past. It's a journey, and it always will be, but it is so worth it to walk this out in a community of people that I know are fighting for me, with a God who I know has my back. He is continuing to blow my mind and is ever shaping me into a beautiful creature in Him.

I'm walking forth into further freedom, leaving behind the lies and the areas that I have been caught up in, claiming His life and love over myself.

"It is for freedom that Christ has set you free; stand fast, therefore, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." -Galatians 5:1

Climb.

I admit, I've been procrastinating. I've been locking myself away and reading, and watching movies, and not writing. I've been preoccupied with moving through the days until the next school starts, rationalizing that once those days hit, I'll be doing something worthwhile. Guess what?

Today is worthwhile.

Today is worth living.

And I forgot that.

I forgot that I am here for a purpose; and every single day that I don't chase after that purpose, I'm wasting time. My purpose here is to know Jesus and to proclaim Him and His love and His majesty and wonder over everything I come in contact with. So, today I decided to do things differently. I spent the entire morning with Jesus. Not making up for lost time, because I can't get that time back, but making a conscious effort to restore my relationship with Him. I've been on a bit of a roller coaster since being in Belize; during the last school I was actively pursuing God, wandering in His wake. It was amazing, until I let my guard down. And then I started to become apathetic about it, and I didn't wake up for Him in the morning. I woke up for me...I woke up so I could walk through another day. I let things like homesickness and doubt distract me from His ever-waving arms. I let Him become something that was comfortable and worn, something that I put on when I want to feel warm and cozy, much like my old sweatpants.

I was reading this morning, and the book I was reading was talking about the God of Ezekiel. Have you ever read the book of Ezekiel? It's all about a jealous God. A God who doesn't stand up and let people get away with wickedness. It is about a fierce, warrior God who loves His people so much, He won't watch them go to ruin. He will let them take the consequences for their actions, though.

Want to know what crossed my mind this morning? God's not a pair of old, worn out sweatpants. God is a God of love, terrible and passionate love that will stop at no bounds. He is a God of fire and water, a God of justice and of mercy. A gentle God. An intense God. A lover God. A wild, and powerful, and relentless God. A holy God.

And I completely lost sight of that. Needless to say, I was humbled by this revelation, and I sat with Him talking and reading more about His incredible nature, listening to Him as He poured His devotion over me.

It's been hard for me recently. I'm a part of a school that disciples young people to go into life and become leaders in faith, leaders in ministry, leaders in integrity. We are now moving into a time where we will have 4 schools per year, and I have the wonderful privilege of staffing here. That means that I am a girls small group leader--I mentor and counsel and pray over and live for my girls as they are here. Last school, there were 9 girls in my group, and I was absolutely in rapture with the love that God gave me for them. I got to sit with them and hear their stories; stories of pain, of humiliation, of self-hurt and of abuse. I got to counsel them, to walk with them through memories and feelings and their own tortured thoughts, speaking God's light and life into them as we went.

I had the chance to chase after them as they bolted to the end of the dock and fell onto their knees, sobbing in the sheer pain of their circumstances. I had the freedom to pull them into my arms and hold them, tears slipping down my own face as I prayed for words, and if none came, I sat with them in silence, letting them cry it out as I held them, as Jesus held both of us in His presence.

And when those young women sat before me at the end of the school and I spoke to them about how they had impacted me, about how I had seen the change in them as they grew closer to God, I was so proud, so privileged to see them grin, their eyes glowing as they walked away with their heads held high in trust of the Father, in trust of His plan for them, in a new mindset of self-esteem and love.

I played a piece in a wild, incredible transformation. My girls left this space with a new breath in their lungs. They are changed for the better, and not by my doing. I was just a tool in this, and it's not over. They will continue to grow and flourish as they go on in life. 

This is what I do here, this is why I am here. To serve this awe-inspiring, trustworthy, fierce, loyal, loving, passionate, wonderful, crazy God. And He is constantly calling out His plea for us to join Him... today, I will.  And tomorrow, I will. And the next day, I will choose this.

Because He is worthy of this.

Take Flight. Breathe In. Crush Fear.

I'm really good at running.

I'm exceptional at sprinting, actually. Away from hurt. Away from potential heartache. Away from frustration and away from misfortune. I flee from pain and I search for bliss. Not joy, mind you, but bliss; the encasing, short-lived, euphoric state of mind where no hurt can find you... and generally, I'm apt to find an avenue into that place of rapture. But then that feeling of ecstasy evaporates, and I'm left to abscond again, growing farther and farther away from myself as I try to escape the bitter reality that life sometimes is.

This week, I wanted to run. At some points, everything inside of me was screaming at me to take flight--to turn to the beach, to let my legs pump and my breath flow and the adrenaline carry me to a place of bliss. My mind wanted to shut down, to stop caring about what was happening around me, to enter that place inside of me that is pure imagination, where I can construct and breathe life into something around me that seems safe. But in all reality, I can't do that. I can't leave.

That's something I've learned working here; I can't run. I can't just pick up and check out of what's happening at the moment. For one, what is happening here--however intense, however chaotic--it's happening under Jesus' name. He encompasses every move here, whether it brings glory to Him or not. He can't help it, His presence just automatically permeates everything. All that is going on isn't necessarily from Him, but He is always encasing every situation, and that which is evil and disgusting is shown for what it really is in a heartbeat. The deception game doesn't work too well here. But then, I'm getting ahead of myself.

This week has been draining. Every day has been a constant battle for truth and healing. It's been amazingly breathtaking. He has been amazingly breathtaking. He has propelled us as staff members forward through a web of deceit and hurt and given us ears and eyes to hear and see the truth as lies unfold before us. He has given us strength to wake up every morning, ready for a new day. And He has taught me that it's okay to face pain head-on. Granted, it's not my pain that I'm facing, but He has still given me a will to fight for His children, a passion to see freedom break through the hurt and the confusion that so easily entangles. This past week has been full of a pain and a confusion that I've never had to face before. I've never dealt with the circumstances that we're in at the moment. I've never walked through some of these things with people. In essence--I have no idea what I'm doing, or how I'm going to do this.

But then...that's the beauty of it, isn't it? Because when I end...that's where Jesus really begins to work. Where the Father floods His grace on me and those around. When the Spirit is allowed to completely flow through me and wreck my heart for Him, and make me thirst for more of Him in my depravity. And so I stop running. I slow down... I take a deep breath. The adrenaline drains and I begin to feel the exhaustion steal in. My heart rate slows and my eyes grow heavy, my limbs almost too weary to propel myself along...and suddenly, the hair on my arms stands up. 

I feel a burst of energy come from thin air, crashing into me and taking my breath away, even as it gives me the strength to keep gasping for the oxygen my body so eagerly craves. My muscles start to strengthen, seemingly of their own accord. I suddenly have the will to fight, the will to keep walking in the direction I was headed in the first place--away from bliss, into this messy, painful, hard, beautiful, crushing lifestyle called missions, where some days you don't get to rest, some nights you're pulled from your sleep and you can feel the enemy crushing down on you, you can see dark shadows in the room trying to oppress you, and all you can do is pray and pray in earnest faith, knowing that these dark beings have no power over you if you can just open your mouth to speak His name... where sometimes you're jerked from your dreams by a knock on the door, and suddenly you're throwing on clothing to rush into some unknown emotional or mental territory with one of the students.

But in those moments I realize that this is really what I love. I wouldn't change this. Even when I'm waking up to a knock on my door at 1am. Even when I'm sitting on the end of the dock crying in anguish for the hurting souls gathered on this base. I wouldn't change any of the pain, or the hurt, because along with it comes great growth, and great joy, and an even greater sense of His presence and Spirit. Because even though, yes, this is hard...I know that it is fully worth it. Every second of it. All the tears, all the laughter, all the silly moments I have with those around, all the sad hugs shared, all the smiles and wry looks given and sarcasm and dancing and singing and twirling together.

I suppose the appropriate thing to say is that I have previously been fantastic at running away. But Jesus is teaching me to saunter, to savor the moment--whether filled with sorrow or joy--and to take it one step at a time, letting all the hard moments be erased with every laugh, with every smile that shows itself.

And so I stop sprinting. I slow down...I take a deep breath. And I let His touch sear like a million wildfires inside of my soul.

I trust...Sometimes.

I trust.

I trust the chair I'm sitting in to hold me. 

I trust the floor I walk on to carry my weight.

I trust the water I drink and the food I consume to keep me alive.

But do I trust God?

I have a hard time trusting that He will take care of me. And so today, I'm taking a step of faith. I had a lengthy conversation with Him this morning about my lack of funds, and I kept hearing Him say, 

"Trust me." Not a suggestion. Not a casual, "Hey, Em, maybe you should trust me a little more. Think you can do that?" But a sincere, peace-filled, I-Know-What-I'm-Doing statement. 

"Trust me." And so I am. I'm trusting that He will provide the money I need to pay staff fees/visa renewal, and general living costs. I asked Him this morning if He would provide just enough, and heard Him replying to me;

"How much do you want?"

Well, God. I need enough for staff fees. It'd be nice to pay off a few months in advance so I don't need to worry about it... but I'll take what you give me.

"No, that wasn't my question, Em. How much do you want?"

Um. I need enough to pay for my visa renewal every month, so $150 would last me for 6 months. Plus staff fees to pay for a few months out. And staff fees are $200 a month... so, I don't know, maybe about $950 would be generous.

"Baby Girl, my Wild One, whom I've chosen, how much money do you want Me to provide?"

I wrestled with His question for quite awhile, and it finally hit me--He wants to provide more than I need. He wants to give me above and beyond that which I ask for. So I'm praying in $8000. I don't know where it will come from, or how it will come, or how long it will take to get, but I believe that He can provide. I believe He has the means to support me while I'm here. This was His idea in the first place, and I believe that as long as I am obedient, He will provide. I do need to take action as well and send support letters out, but that's in the process. I'm trusting Him.

Jesus, I want $8000. I realize that some may think that's greedy, or too much. But it's not. You know what I need it for, what I will use it for, who I will bless with bits a pieces of it. I trust You to provide. 

I trust.

Walking Over Fire

Three weeks have passed since this school started, and each day has been packed full of activity. 

Week three is coming to a close, and the students are blowing my mind.

This past week Lynn Toney has been teaching. Her week was all about gaining freedom through forgiveness, acknowledging your patterns of sin, and processing everything that's happened to you in your past to shape who you are today. Every day this week has been intense; Lynn has been cracking down on the students and pouring God's love and passion over them--challenging them every step of the way to face their pasts, acknowledge their present behavior and thought process, and to gain freedom for their future.

I am so proud of every single student here. They've been slowly moving forward, taking ownership of their character and deciding whether or not to live out their lives in integrity. We've been constantly praying and doing spiritual battle with them over their relationships with God and their roles here on earth. Some of these students are challenging--there are always a few--but it's been incredibly encouraging and beautiful to see every single person opening up a bit more to the prospect that they have a significant dent on this earth, and that God has so much more for them than living in the places that they're at; full of hurt, anger, apathy. 

It's a beautiful thing when you start to see 34 students have light-bulb moments, moments where they start to get that they're not as put together as they think, and that they want God so much more than the worlds influences. They're learning that their pasts dictate how they see God, that they need to get past that point where they think He brought everything upon them, but that He did in fact walk through every moment with them.

This week has been powerful, we've seen some students start to break apart the walls around their hearts and embrace the love and freedom that God is pouring into them. Some of them don't realize it's a process quite yet and it won't happen in one moment, but they'll get it.

This is a beautiful, heart-wrenching, incredible process to be a part of. It's such an honor to be a small group leader to nine girls whose hearts are in completely different places, who come from intensely different situations and families but still have beautiful characteristics or past happenings in common. Each one of "my girls", and every single other student on this base--male or female--is a profound statement of the love and passion that Jesus has for this earth. The fact that He's brought together 34 incredibly different personalities and somehow made them all click is a testimony of His greatness in itself. Each one of these beautiful children of the Most High are becoming more and more precious in my heart, and I can't wait to see where He will bring them. 

Jesus is good. His love is pouring over this school--over the staff and the students--in an alarming wave of healing and freedom. This is like walking over coals to some of us--to most of us. The students are heading into unknown territory; walking through their pasts and making a decision whether or not to live in freedom and let healing overtake them.

PRAYER REQUESTS

Please continue to pray that we would all be open to the Holy Spirit and His movement and direction. He's been leading us into battle against the enemy, and it's been a beautiful and difficult process. 

Please continue to pray for spiritual strength and unity for the staff members, that we would be completely open with each other and that God's grace, peace and courage would infiltrate every situation that we walk through with the students.

Please pray that the students would continue to embrace Jesus, to let Him hug them in return and take away their pain. They're unsure and frustrated, but it's been amazing so far. The enemy SO wants to take them down, and in a way it's working with some of them. 

But we as believers have a bigger power and the authority, so let's claim that! 

God has SO much healing and restoration in store for this school. He has been speaking integrity and character over them at every single turn, and I am praying that they begin to own that. 

Galatians 5:19-25

The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery;  idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.

Thank you for your support--I appreciate every single one of you!

I Had a Dream Once

Imagine a river, its silvery water writhing and collapsing around itself. It cascades along, careless. You can hear the power in that water. You can see the intensity, feel the noise of the waves bouncing off rapids. Stemming from the mountains, the water is frigid, breathtaking. It's purifying, refreshing, cleansing water. Even when you're standing hundreds of feet away, you can still hear the music of the water, screaming its melodies over rocks and branches and banks, rushing and falling and lapping against itself and the earth.

Somehow though, as you go about whatever you have on your agenda during the day, the fact that a river exists a short distance away slips your mind. Oh, the remembrance of it still exists in the back of your mind, you haven't actually forgotten, but it's no longer a conscious thought. You no longer revel in the throaty, beautiful sound it produces. The incredible sense of peace and passion it had previously evoked in your spirit has dimmed...

Sometimes you remember the river and your heart beats a little faster in anticipation of hearing it once again, seeing its power and hearing the glorious noise it creates.

Sometimes your concentration breaks a bit and the noise rushes over you again and you breathe a sigh, because it's a wonderful sound.

Sometimes you don't even notice that you're not noticing anymore.

Sometimes you forget altogether, and wander away, and never return.

Oh, that we would remember.

Can you imagine? Can you imagine living every day being able to hear the glorious, melodious sound echoing slightly in your spirit? And when you really want to experience it in its fullness, all you need to do is wander to the edges and take it in. Immerse yourself in it, even, if you need refreshment. It may seem painful or cold at first, but afterwards you won't regret it, because you feel renewed, awake and alive and alert. It's wonderful.

Imagine if Jesus was this river. Just think about it. And then, when you've thought about that for a bit, 

re-read this post. 

My desire is to live with the crash and murmur of His presence, of His voice, living in my spirit every moment of my life. I desire Him. 

What would it be like to feel Him every second of the day, whether awake or asleep? Can you imagine the beauty, the refreshing, gorgeous, incredible, awe-inspiring, breathtaking wonder that would be?

Can you imagine?

Love. Passion. Explosion. Voice.

Sometimes it seems like there's not much reason to sing. It's raining outside, and it's cold, and my heart is feeling more uncertain by the minute... God doesn't seem to be answering, or He doesn't even seem to be there. Nothing is working out the way I expected. I lost my job. It's hard to play guitar when my fingers are no longer used to the strings. I have no drive to do anything, I have no motivation... why sing?

And then I remember.

I remember that I just ate rice with chicken curry over it. I remember that my stomach is satisfied, and my lips are sipping from a warm cup of tea. I remember that I am in a house, full of things that I am free to use: a shower, a toilet, a sink, a dishwasher, a refrigerator, a bed, a mirror, a computer, shoes. I have access to everything I need. I remember that I don't need to stand out in that cold rain and become drenched by its chill as I beg for food or steal money from the pockets of passers-by, in hopes to get a little nourishment before night falls once again. I remember that my home is full of people who love me. I don't need to go searching for acceptance, because I'm secure. I remember that I have a God who has promised to fight for me, always. I remember that I am not alone.

Some days it's difficult to remember. Some days, it's hard to remember that I know who I am, and I know that I have a purpose. 

And then days like today come around. Days where I wake up, look out the window at the rain, and can't help but burst into laughter. Who would have ever thought that water would be able to fall from the sky? It's intriguing, really. Today I remember why I have a reason to sing. I remember what God's presence feels like, and I know that if I seek Him, I will find Him. I know that He will never leave me alone. 

Today reminds me why I can sing. Today reminds me that I am free. I was talking with a friend on Monday  about fear. Confession: I used to be deathly afraid of the dark. I slept with a light on in my room, because if something was going to kill me (and I was positive that something was going to), I wanted to be able to see it first. Then at least I had a fighting chance. But while we were talking about fear, I realized that my fears have been set to rest. My fears have fled, because I have grasped onto something bigger, something stronger than fear. I have grasped onto JOY. I have held onto the promise that God gave me in Deuteronomy 33:26-28. I have grabbed onto His hand and trusted Him with my life, with my future, no matter what the cost.

I can sing today, I can sing forever, because He has taken me from fear, He has taken me from uncertainty and insecurity into a freedom that will last forever. FOREVER. His presence and life is something that I cannot be robbed of, and I don't have to run away from fear anymore. Now I can face it, now I can sing directly into it's wailing winds and remember that as long as I cling to my Father, as long as I cling to His promise, to His light... there will always be a reason to sing.

So tell me why I should run for cover

At the sound of the coming thunder

All I hear is the cry of my Lover

Yeah take your shot

I won't turn back.

(lyrics from Won't Turn Back, by Need To Breathe)