A Different Kind of Christmas

The big question... Are YOU ready for Christmas?

It's been asked for weeks, and over and over my answer was, "no way!!"  Until yesterday, I'd only bought one gift.  I have no Christmas tree.  I have been listening to Christmas music... sometimes.  And to be honest, the thought of Christmas approaching made me more than a little nauseous.

I was reminded time and time again of the joy of the season when Christ was born.  I was reminded of the hope that the Messiah lying in a manger brought.  I clung to that joy.  I clung to that hope.  As the darkness of seasonal depression creeped up on me like a thief in the night, one by one each speck of joy, each glimmer of hope was shadowed by fear and anxiety.  I tried to fight back with joy.  I fought back in prayer and the Word.  I sought counsel from close friends.  I journaled.  I did everything in my power to get out of the funk.

It wasn't until early last Sunday morning, when I got a call at 3 a.m.  telling me that my (ex)step-dad (my 2nd Daddy) was being rushed to Memphis by ambulance and was given a 50/50 chance to make it out of surgery alive, that I began to snap out of my rut.  Driving from Oxford to Batesville to meet my family in the wee hours of the morning gave me time to cry, pray, and just sit in silence.  I begged and pleaded with the Lord for supernatural healing, peace, understanding, and hope.  As we sat in the hospital waiting room longing for answers, hoping for good news, I watched Pinelake's live service.  As I listened to Mike Breaux bring the Word on the Light of Joy in this Christmas season and how joy extends far beyond our circumstances.  "Contentment is the not the achievement of all that we want.  It's the realization of what we already have."  That's the key to joy in all circumstances--a deep contentment rooted in gratitude for all that Father has given, with the most precious gift coming over 2000 years ago as a baby that came to reconcile us to the Father.  That's it.

So, I was on the road out of the funk.  I was joyful.  We witnessed a healing miracle as doctors were left speechless when Tim came out of the surgery-- no vent, no external support helping him survive.  He was sustained by the power of Almighty God.  In his own words, "I guess this means I made it out alive."  That he did.  And we stand amazed-- all glory to God-- our Christmas miracle.

This was a launch pad out of the pit of fear and anxiety that I had fallen into.  I was on the journey to joy.

Enter Tuesday (11:30 a.m. to be exact)--- My dad calls me during school hours, which never happens, so I answer it.  I hear his voice shaking on the other end of the line.  I'm not really sure what all he said because the room started spinning, but what I do remember is Papaw, looks bad, rushing to ER, ambulance, sheriff escort, stroke?, fall, can't talk...  I was in shock.  Wait, you mean my healthy Papaw?  The one who is never sick, wanders all over Pearidge, and is one of the most down-to-earth men I know?  WHAT?  The shock turned to sadness as I processed what I believed was happening.  One of my sweet students happened to notice and began to tell me about her journey of her grandfather having a stroke and his recovery and also of her journey in losing her dad only a year ago and walking through that tough time in her life.  Immediately, my worries seemed so small as I talked with this precious little one about the hard journey she had walked to this point.  As school ended and I watched the joy of Christmas break flood the faces of my littles as they ran down the hallway, the news began to sink in again... What happened?  Would he be okay?  About an hour later, my sister called me.  She could barely talk through the tears... it wasn't a stroke.. No, it was much worse... Doctors found 5-6 tumors on my Papaw's brain.  One of the tumors was pressing against his left side and causing stroke-like symptoms.  Back to Memphis we drove, trailing an ambulance yet again-- uncertain of what's to come.  We arrive in Memphis.  The doctors repeat all the tests and find that there are multiple tumors all across my Papaw's body.  We still do not have a definitive diagnosis-- but doctors are leaning towards lung cancer that has spread to his brain.  Devastation.  Fear.  Anxiety.  Sadness.  Anger.  Pain.  So many emotions.

Let me be the very first to say that this is not at all how I envisioned Christmas this year.  From celebrating from hospital rooms to the stillness and deafening silence of a Christmas afternoon that has been spent with family for years and years... this years Christmas will be a different one.  I know I'm not alone in this feeling or these emotions.

If you are facing a different kind of Christmas this year yourself, let me offer these few words of encouragement that I have clung to this past week:

1)  CHOOSE JOY!

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Joy is a choice.  Like it or not, we do not choose our circumstances, but we can choose joy.  The Lord is sovereign, and He is good in all that He does.  We have to trust this.  No matter what life throws our way, each and every day, we must choose joy and choose contentment.  We must choose to live with an attitude of gratitude.  Regardless of our fickle and fleeting emotions, we trust that His ways are higher, and day by day, moment by moment, second by second, we have to choose JOY!

2)  FIGHT THE GOOD FIGHT!

For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places.

Ephesians 6:12

We are in a war--a real, raging war.  Battle by battle we fight on.  Satan lies, schemes, and attacks in real time over and over again.  We can either choose to believe the lies of the enemy and live in defeat, or we can choose to rise up with the strength of Christ and fight the battle.  This we know... He has WON the victory!  He's fighting for us.  He has overcome.  Trust that.  Walk in victory.

3)  TRUST.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding.  In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will make straight your paths.  Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD, and turn away from evil.  It will be healing to your flesh and refreshment to your bones.

Proverbs 3:5-8

Choosing joy and fighting the good fight are both rooted in trust.  HIs plans are higher, his ways are greater.  When the darkness has fallen and the outlook seems bleak, HE is the one with the last word.  Victory is HIS.  Trust that.  Call on Him, and He will answer.  Let Him wrap His loving arms around you through this season.

My hope is in the promise of Your blood,

My support within the raging flood,

Even in the tempest, I can sing

I'm hidden safe in the God who never moves

Holding fast to the promise of Your truth,

That You are holding tighter still to me.

This Christmas might be different in more way than I could have ever imagined, but this one thing remains.  Over 2000 years ago, a baby was born in a stable that changed the face of history.  Three hundred years of silence broken by the cry of a baby.  The promised Messiah had come.

JOY to the world!

Regardless of your circumstances, celebrate the King this Christmas!  He is worthy of every single broken hallelujah you can raise!

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

One Nation

We recite these words every single morning in honor of a member of the military.  Friday, we said it in honor of my Grandaddy, Rex Bailey, who served in the Navy during World War II.  To be honest, most days, these words are mindlessly repeated by my classroom full of students (with respect of course with hands over hearts and standing at attention).  I'm not sure that the students have ever really thought about the words being spoken.  And, in the spirit of honesty, until a few weeks ago, I'm not sure that I have ever thought about the words I was saying.  A few weeks ago, as I was thinking about the "big" election and just life in America, the Lord spoke to me as I was saying the Pledge.  "Listen to the last 11 words.  Think about what you are saying."  I listened as I spoke these words.  One nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

(Disclaimer:  I have the utmost respect for our pledge, our flag, our anthem, our country, and our soldiers, and none of the following comments are meant to reflect any disrespect towards these things.  They are merely my feelings and opinions regarding the state of our nation.)

As I spoke these words, I was overcome with how far away we are from this perfect dream of a society.  What if day-to-day life in America really was built upon this phrase?  My, how things would change, if we were actually "one nation, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all."

Let's dissect this phrase for a second...

One Nation.  With each and every instance of systemic racism, institutional racism, and media fear-mongering, our nation is being pulled further and further apart.  Also, this election has gone to show that we are far from one nation.  Legally, we might still be one nation, but within that nation there is so much separation and dissension that it's crazy.  In all honesty, I don't think that unity of "one nation" will ever be possible, apart from a mass revival and unity in the body of Christ, which brings us to the next part of this phrase...





Under God.  As I pondered this part of the phrase, honestly, my first instinct was to rant about how we are no longer a nation "under God" and how the religious freedom that this country was founded one has led to a lax laid-back version of "christianity" in which (in the South at least) we go to church once a week (maybe) and are left unchanged.  While I certainly agree that the church in America has become all too complacent and we are in desperate need of revival, I think that, primarily, in my longing to rant about the degradation of our society, I missed one important point altogether.  No matter what America becomes.  No matter how morally deficient, worldly, or evil the American society becomes, we will still be and will always be under God.  Whether society likes it or not, we are given every life and breath from a God so great, and mighty, and vast, and sovereign.  America, along with every other tribe and nation on this Earth is a nation under God.  We are under God's authority and sovereign rule whether we choose to acknowledge it or not.

Indivisible.  See One Nation (above).  So very much division-- in the country, in the church, in the home.  We are so far from indivisible.  Pray for supernatural unity.

With liberty and justice for ALL.  This point hit me the hardest and rang the loudest in my ears.  Let's break this down a little further.

liberty.  "America-- the land of the free."  "It's a free country."  We talk about liberty in so many ways.  Yet, are we truly a "free country"?  We live in a society not only burdened by the shackles of shame and guilt, but also chained by the need for approval, the need for acceptance, and even burdened by the so-called American "dream."  We chase after health, wealth, and prosperity only to be left empty and longing because we were created for so much more.   True freedom lies in Christ alone.  Now, America was founded on freedom.  As the inscription on the Statue of Liberty states, America was and is a refuge for all longing to breathe free.  This also, and most importantly, means religious freedom, so that means, whether Muslim, Jew, Catholic, Buddhist, Christian, Seventh-Day Adventist, Hindu... whatever.  All are welcome.  That's the point in the liberty.  It is not simply meant to be enjoyed by those who's great-great-great-great grandparents entered the country during the time of mass immigration.  America was founded on being a nation where all could come to enjoy the freedoms of our country.    That's the draw of America--freedom.  We have seen the destruction of America through many choices rooted in these freedoms, yet the freedoms remain-- as they should.  Yes, we live in a free country.  We live in a country where I can walk out my door to any person on the street and tell them about the goodness of my Jesus and how He has radically changed my life and is willing and waiting to do the same for them if they just trust Him.  I can tell whoever I want whenever I want about the life-changing grace and mercy and love and goodness of my Savior.  That's liberty.  Let's not take for granted the liberty that we have.  Live free.

justice.  If I'm totally honest, this single word hit me hardest of all.  It brought me to tears and heartache.  We are not a nation with "justice for all."  And, tragically, we have never been a nation

with justice for all.  Yes, we have a justice system; yes, we have government.  These systems were created by a broken people, and out of this brokenness has stemmed a systemic degradation of minority people groups.  African American men have been targeted and brutally murdered by the systems that should be in place to protect them.  People are judged and categorized merely for the color of their sin.  Children around the country go without food or shelter on a daily basis.  Babies are murdered in the womb daily-- in the very place created by God to protect them as they grow.  America is not a nation with justice for all.  These are just a few of the instances in which injustice is seen on a regular basis.  Christians, this should break our hearts.  Mourn with those who mourn.  Empathize with those who are hurting.  This empathy comes from a personal relationship with the broken-- not as a result of these devastating events, but as a result for the love for all people that Christ has called us to.  Commit to pray for, with, and alongside our hurting brothers and sisters as we seek out unity and justice and liberty for all people, not just the people who look, act, and think like us.

God, help us to be a Christian people that happen to be living in America, not a people so tied up in our American pride or patriotism that we forsake our calling as Christians to love any and all.  As a nation, America has turned to our own way.  We have tried to take You out of any and all aspects of our culture.  Let the church hear your call, O Lord, that this is not the time to lie down and sulk over our "persecution" but the time to rise up and stand for our beliefs and to stand on the promises in your word that YOU, O God, are sovereign over all nations and tribes and tongues and people groups.  As we enter into election week and we look towards Election Day, remind us, Lord, that our hope is not found in any elected official or public office.  Our hope is found in You alone.  The only hope for all the world is Jesus.  In HIS precious Name, Amen.

The only hope for all the world is JESUS.  Go tell it on the mountain.  Jesus Christ is Lord.

Put Down Your Stones

She was caught red-handed.  She was (possibly literally) naked in her shame.  She was exposed for all of the town to see.  Her secrets were no longer secrets.  Adulteress.  Fornicator.  Wounded.  Hurt.  Exposed.

She stood (or crouched down) accused.  Condemned.  Sentenced to death by the Pharisees.  They stood at the ready with their stones to take her life as the law commanded.  However, instead of just stoning her, they asked Jesus a question to test him.  His response?  Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.

Stones fell.  One-by-one the men dropped their stones and went away.  The woman stood in front of only Jesus as he looked up at her.

Where are they?  Has no one accused you?
No one, Lord.
Neither do I condemn you; go, and sin no more.

(Storied-- John 7:53 - 8:11 **Note:  There is considerable doubt that this story is part of John's original Gospel since it is absent from all of the oldest manuscripts.  But there is nothing in it unworthy of sound doctrine.  It sees best to view the story as something that probably happened during Jesus' ministry but that was not originally part of what John wrote in his Gospel.  Therefore it should not be considered as part of Scripture and should not be used as the basis for building any pint of doctrine unless confirmed in Scripture. -- ESV Study Bible footnote)

GRACE UPON GRACE.

According to the law, this girl was dead.  She should have been dead.  Maybe, she wanted to be dead.  However, Jesus, as He did repeatedly throughout His ministry, showed grace.  This lady had done nothing to earn his favor.  She had broken the law.  She deserved death, according to the OT Law, and according to what we now know as Romans 6:23.

On the contrary, Jesus gave her the radical gift of grace.  One of my favorite things about this story is the redemption found in Jesus' last statement.

Neither do I condemn you; go, and sin no more.

Romans 8:1; Freedom.  Not freedom to sin (go and sin no more), but freedom to live.  Freedom to walk in grace.  Freedom to walk in Christ's imputed righteousness onto all who trust Jesus as their Savior.

"It's not obedience that brings freedom; it's freedom that brings obedience." - Kasey Van Norman

I have been on both sides of this story.

I was the adulteress (not literally, but you know what I mean).  I deserved death.  I've looked Jesus in the eyes open and vulnerable exposed in my sin.  I've stared down a harsh and unforgiving society.  And, if I'm honest, there were moments where I wanted to face death instead of the consequences of my choices.  However, PRAISE JESUS!  I am the adulteress.  I've looked into the eyes of Jesus as He called off my accusers.  Neither do I condemn you; go, and sin no more.  There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.  I have tasted His sweet sufficient grace.  His power is made perfect in my weakness.  I have been redeemed.  I have been forgiven.  I have been set free.

I have also held stones.  Stones of bitterness, resentment, anger, accusal.  How could they have hurt me so?  How could this person have made so many choices that caused me pain?  They deserve every bit of my bitterness, every bit of my attitude, every bit of my anger.  I have heard Jesus' call-- Let he who is without sin cast the first stone.  However, unlike the Pharisees, I've held tight to my stone.  I will drop it when he/she apologizes.  I will drop it when I feel "called to."  I will drop it when... You see, the problem is... "when" was never going to come in my own strength.  I wasn't willing to let go.  Too much hurt.  Too much pain.  10 years.  That's a long time.  I wrestled with everything in me against forgiveness.  I would "drop the stone" (or say I did), yet pick the stone right back up at the next hurt or pain.  Ready, aiming, longing to cast it to retaliate the pain I felt inside.  You see, I held onto the stone because I had lost sight of my own plight.  I lived like I attained my own freedom.  I lived like I had never been the adulteress in need of grace.  I lived like I earned the radical grace given to me.  If the blood of Christ is sufficient to cover his/her transgressions against me and He can forgive this person, then who am I to cast a stone?  Who am I to hold a grudge?  Who am I to boldly proclaim that they must earn my forgiveness?  As I was reminded of the unmerited grace lavished upon me through Christ, I was overcome with the loosening of my grip on the stone.  With each reminder of His grace, His mercy, His faithfulness, the stone was loosened in my grip.  Until, finally, it fell.  And, as it fell, it shattered.  No longer to be picked back up and aimed.  What once was a gaping wound has been bandaged and is in the process of being healed.  I have forgiven.  I have been set free.

I think we all find ourselves in either of these roles at some point in our lives.  The most important thing to remember is that Christ is at the center of it all.  HIS Grace is sufficient.  It's by HIS grace that we are forgiven and set free.  It's in His strength that we find the strength to forgive.  It's by His power, His love.  It's by HIS wounds that we are healed.  It is by His life, His death, His resurrection that we are set free.

Walk in that freedom.  Let Christ set you free from the bondage of shame and unforgiveness.  He's a chain breaker.

- Kayla

A 10-Year Reflection Letter

Dear 16-year-old me,

It's been a while-- ten years to be exact.

Let me start by saying, you are beautiful-- not because a magazine, a boy, a friend, or even your mama says so.  No, my darling, you are beautiful because you were created by a Maker that knows you intimately.  He fashioned you from the tiniest strand of DNA to look like you do, talk like you do, and to be uniquely you.  Turn off the tv.  Put down the magazines.  That's not who you were made to be.  You were created for so much more than that.  God created you with unique talents and abilities that you can use to make the world a better place.  Don't suppress them for fear of standing out or being labeled as weird or different.  As you try to fit this impossible mold that the world has given you, you are missing out on the beautiful life that God has for you if you'd only trust Him over what the magazines or tv are telling you to become. You were made for more.

You, precious one, are loved beyond all imagination--  not because of anything that you have done to earn this love, but because you have a Good Father.  This is such a hard concept for you to grasp, I know. You have a desire to earn love.  You work so hard to maintain good grades, be the best at anything that you attempt, and to be noticed in hopes of earning love.  You try so hard to quietly please anyone and everyone around you in hopes that they will love you more or stay home more or lay aside painful habits.  You sit silently in the room, all the while screaming to be noticed by anyone, longing for love and affection in the way that you understand it best.  You feel as if no one understands.  But, sweet one, be assured, there is One who always understands.  You are trying so hard to earn His love that you have completely missed the fact that you can't earn His love.  He.  Loves.  You.  Period.  This solid truth has been, since before you were born, is, even though you're 16 and awkward, and always will be, to 26 and long beyond.  You were created by a Father that loves you with every fiber of His being.  He is calling you tenderly to Him.  You've seen Him move in the lives of those all around you.  You've learned the words to say, when to raise your hands, and what to do to appear like you know Him and love Him.  You know the Roman Road by heart and even how to witness (26 y.o. Kayla interjection-- that's a super scary thought.).  You've convinced yourself and those around you that you were saved during "one of those Wednesdays" in youth group.  You had to have been.  Surely, you weren't living a lie.  Yet, internally, you know that you have know idea who this Jesus really is or the life-transforming work that He can do.  Just wait, little one, life has a lot of curveballs coming your way, but, take heart, you will survive, and, at 24, you will finally look up and notice and take hold of the hand of Christ reaching down into the pit to rescue you-- and your life will never be the same.

Truth-- your life has not been filled with roses and daisies.  You've never gone without anything material that you needed-- food, water, shelter, etc.  However, emotionally, you have had a tough road to be 16.  Circumstances have forced you to grow up fast, and I know that there have been many times that you feel the weight of the world on your shoulders.  However, my love, let me assure you, the weight of the world was never on your shoulders-- you are not that important.  The true weight of the world was on the shoulders of a man in Jerusalem 2000 years ago as He bore the sins of the world to pay the wages of sin and reconcile us to the Father.  That's the weight of the world.  You can fall.  You can have a bad day.  You can fail a test.  It's not going to cause the world to topple.  Wake up call:  You are not the center of the universe.

When life does fall completely apart, you will realize that the ones you have pushed away are the ones that you needed the most.  Those friends reaching out for reconciliation?  Listen to them.  The friends that want to tear through your walls of self-protection and love you for who you are?  Let them.

Life will not be easy.  You will fall.  You will fail.  However, ten years later, I can tell you with full confidence, that the Lord is faithful.  He will see you through.  He will sustain you even in the darkest times when it takes everything that you have to get out of bed and do life.  He has not lost control even for a second.  God is sovereign, and His will shall be done.  Rest in that.

Love,

From a little older, little wiser...

Kayla

Uncomfortably Christian

Truth is, I'm not proud to be an American.

Don't burn me at the stake just yet-- hear me out.  I am so very grateful to live in a free country and to have access to so many beautiful places, so many opportunities.  I have spent a fair share of my lifetime chasing after the American Dream.  I have chased the dreams of having a family, owning a home, having a brand-new top-of-the-line (in my budget-- or even a bit beyond) car.  I have dreamed of having a beautiful house with a white picket fence and children running around.  And, for so long, I became comfortable.  Comfortable in my marriage, in my home, teaching at my alma mater, planning a future life with children, driving my dream car, financially "secure" with loads of debt.  I was living the "dream".  Yet I was empty, I was un-fulfilled.  I was longing for so much more.  According to the American Dream, I should have been content-- yet I was so empty.

American pride has become a huge topic of debate lately.  From Kaepernick's refusal to stand for the anthem  to Trump's call to "Make America great again," it's all about taking back America or re-instilling an America to take pride in.  Majority of Americans are not simply grateful to live in America but prideful to live in America.  This pride causes us to look down upon other countries, to see ourselves as better than the citizens of those countries simply because of where we were born.  What have you or I done to earn the right to be prideful as Americans?  Sometimes I think we take such pride in being Americans that we let patriotism overshadow our call to make the Gospel of Jesus Christ known among the nations.  We won't check our American privilege for the sake of the Gospel.  We sing our national anthem or God Bless America more boldly and passionately than we do songs of worship on Sundays.  We so quickly forget that Christ has not called us to be Americans that happen to be Christian.  On the contrary, He has called us to be Christians that happen to live in America.  We are not identified by our nationality.  We are identified in Christ alone.  He is our Savior.  One can "live" the American Dream, yet be stone-cold dead spiritually.  True living is found in Jesus Christ.  We don't need American pride.  We need Christian humility.

I, for one, am tired of living comfortably.  I'm tired of chasing after the American dream.  I'm tired of having pity party after pity party that life hasn't turned out the way I wanted it to.  As Christians in America, we have only seen a taste of true persecution for our faith.  We live in a country where we are free to worship where and when we want to.  We can boldly proclaim our faith to anyone and everyone that we meet.  We sit in our comfortable pews each Sunday (and/or Wednesday) week in and week out, but do we dare open up our mouths throughout the week and share the beautiful work that Christ has done and is doing in us.  Does our witness leave the church building?  Brothers and sisters around the world are being be-headed for their faith, yet we sit comfortably and can't even so much as strike up a conversation about faith at the lunch table?!

God has been shaking me to the core lately surrounding my comfort.  Truth is, lately, I've been uncomfortable.  God has been revealing things through His Word time and time again that do not line up with the American Dream that I've so often chased.  My flesh wants to be comfortable.  My flesh wants to chase after worldly things rather than to walk in obedience to the life God has for me.  The Spirit has reminded me time and time again that the sacrifices of carnal desires are infinitesimal compared to the eternal weight of glory He has in store (2 Cor. 4:17).  For the cause of Christ, I want to be uncomfortable.  I want to shake off the chains of patriotism and chasing after the American Dream for the sake of the Kingdom.  I want to live my life as a Kingdom Bringer for Christ, not a dream chaser.  May my own dreams and desires blow away life chaff in the wind as I take up my cross and follow Him.

Truth is... Christianity is uncomfortable.  When we walk in obedience, we will not look like the world-- and that's uncomfortable.  Standing up for what you believe in when you're sometimes standing alone is uncomfortable.  Taking up your cross is uncomfortable.  But it's worth it.

He has not called us to live comfortably, friends.  He has called us to follow Him, to make disciples, to make Him known.  Are we living comfortably, or are we taking up our cross and running hard after Him?

To quote one of the most poignant questions posed in the book turned movie Insanity of God:  Is Jesus worth it?

My Life-Changing Summer

As a teacher, I live my life summer to summer.  Instead of the usual January to December calendar that most follow, my brain works on an August to May calendar with two special months of rest included named June and July.  For the past two years, these summer months have brought drastic life changes.

Summer 2014:  tragedy, loss, heartache, pain, destruction, divorce

Summer 2015:  new beginnings, Oxford, fresh start, Pinelake

Summer 2016:  Panama City, Sports Camp, MathCamp, Matamoros, Passion Camp, Kids Camp

All three summers changed my life in their own way.  God has used all three summers to shape me and mold me little by little into who He created me to be.  Every year as we return to school, I get asked the same question... How was your summer?  For the past two summers, that was an easy question.

Summer 2014:  Terrible.

Summer 2015:  Chaotic.

However, this year's answer is so much more complex, yet so simple.

Summer 2016:  Life-Changing.

As I sit in my new house on this last day of July (my last day of summer), and I look back on this summer.  I'm truly speechless.  Through this summer, the Lord has broken me, He has healed me, He has spoken life and victory over me, He has allowed me to witness life transformation, and He has changed my life.  This summer could not have possibly been any more perfect.  The Lord is sovereign in all things, and I'm so thankful that He orchestrated the events this summer in a way that maximized His glory and changed me from the inside out.

Here's a glimpse into all that was summer 2016.

In Panama City, I was able to relax, un-wind, and re-charge with family.  Through this week, the Lord challenged me to put off the frustration, the doubt, the fear, and the stress from the 2015-16 school year and to begin to truly trust and believe that He works all things together for His glory and our good. 

At Sports Camp, I spent three days worshipping, playing, and digging in the Word with this sweet sweet group of Kindergarteners.  We had an amazing time singing and dancing in worship, playing soccer, and just talking about life.  The Lord used this time to show me that the Gospel is simple enough to be understood by Kindergarteners, yet complex and deep enough to bring dead hearts to life, to atone for our sins, to pay our debt, and to bring us into fellowship with God.

At MathCamp, I was given the opportunity to work with 4th and 5th grade math learners to revive their sense of excitement and passion for learning in mathematics.  Through this week, I saw many light bulbs, heard many giggles, saw tons of smiles, and had tons of fun.  Through MathCamp, the Lord renewed the sense of passion for teaching (specifically teaching math) that He instilled in me when I first began teaching in 2012.  He opened my eyes to the fact that each student in that classroom is not just a warm body taking a seat, but a life-- a life that is precious in His eyes and should be nurtured, cared for, believed in, and loved.

Matamoros... Oh, sweet Matamoros... Well, it already has it's own blog, so I'll keep it short and sweet.  In Matamoros, I worked with a God-sent team of people to serve, play with, and care for precious kids at the children's home.  What I thought was a chance for the Lord to use me to change lives, turned out the be the pivotal turning point for the Lord to change mine.  During my week, in Matamoros, the Lord spoke healing and life back into a worn and weary soul.  He took my broken heart filled with guilt, shame, un-worthiness, and defeat, and He spoke the truth of His forgiveness, love, and restoration over me.

In itself, Matamoros was life-changing; however, I truly wasn't prepared for what came next.  When I pictured myself at Passion Camp, I saw myself as a chaperone/small group leader there to serve my precious high school girls and to pour into them.  That happened.  But that's far from all that Passion Camp 2016 was.  In Daytona, the Lord took what happened in Matamoros, the beginning of the healing journey, and He spoke over it, IT IS FINISHED.  It was nailed to the cross.  There is no more shame.  There is no more guilt.  I am not longer a victim of my circumstances or the "hand I've been dealt" but I am a VICTOR in Christ.  I'm not dead.  In Christ, I am ALIVE.  I am not perfect.  But in Christ, I am HOLY.  I am not worthless.  In Christ, I am CHOSEN.  As the Lord, poured my identity in Christ over me, I felt the shackles, the shame, the guilt, the defeat, the expectations, the heartache, flow away.  The Lord replaced these things with an identity rooted in Christ and His character and all that He is.  The girl who felt unworthy to serve the Lord, now was able to stand and walk in victory and proclaim the Gospel boldly for Christ.  As if this newfound freedom and identity were not more than life-changing already, in Daytona, I was also blessed to be given the opportunity to see life change, to see salvation, to see the Lord move and work and to see His name glorified above all else in the lives of 4,000 teenagers and adults.  It couldn't get much better.. could it?? Just wait.

Kids Camp... If I'm honest, going into this week, I was excited, yet apprehensive.  Coming off of two phenomenal, yet tiring trips, moving my apartment into storage, and just life in general had physically and spiritually exhausted me.  I was running on fumes at this point, but, because I made a commitment, I stuck with it.   If Hannah (children's minister) had called and said, "Hey! I need you to stay home", I wouldn't have argued one bit.  However, I prayed for strength, supernatural energy, endurance, and to see the Lord work in incredible ways in and through this camp.  As I prayed, I felt the Lord re-assure me that He had wonderful things in store.  I pushed through the exhaustion and showed up Wednesday to board the bus.  I am so thankful that I did.  This week at kids camp was, again, life changing.  I had an amazing time getting to know a precious group of girls with an extraordinary heart for Jesus.  These little world-changers had an awesome time, worshipped their little hearts out, dug into the Word, and learned so much about the character of Christ and who He is.  This week at camp, we learned that Jesus is... the promise fulfilled, the Lord of Everything, the rescuer, and with us.  Through this week, the Lord taught me that I don't have to have control because He is sovereign and He is in control.  He has rescued me, and He is with me.  These kid-friendly lessons spoke life into me as an adult too.

All in all, this summer has been phenomenal, extraordinary, and life-changing.  I will forever remember summer 2016, and I look forward to all that the Lord has in store for this school year and beyond.

For His glory,

Kayla

Scars

Scars.  We all have them.  Some are publicly seen, and some are hidden deep within.  Whether public or private, each scar has a story to tell.  Behind each scar lies a wound, a deep wound, that likely encompassed lots of pain, lots of tears, and maybe even heartache.

     I have many scars; however, I have one particular scar that seems to be more publicly seen and seems to still radiate pain from time to time.  This scar has a name.  A name that causes unease.  A name that in itself causes pain.  It's name is divorce.  Divorce...  Secularly, this word has almost lost its sting.  It's seen as the always available plan B.  Don't like the person that you married?  "Fall out of love"?  There's always a plan B.  And it's name is divorce.  I'm not here to rant over the secular dilution of the sanctity of marriage and approval of divorce, and, as one who put pen to paper on the pile of legal jargon denoting a "dissolution of marriage," it would seem super-hypocritical at this point.  So, that is not my end.  While, secularly, the word divorce has lost its sting, ironically, in the church, the "D word" is never-spoken.  Time and time again, the church silences those whose stories involve divorce because its uncomfortable.  When the word divorce even comes up in conversation, so many church people get quiet, awkward, and uncomfortable.  If we took the time to listen to the story behind the scar, maybe, just maybe, we would see that so much more lies behind that scar.  When the "D word" comes up, maybe the church shouldn't cower, chastise, and emotionally stone those involved, but maybe we should step-in and fight for the sanctity of marriage alongside the hurting.  Instead of running away from discussions revolving around tough issues like divorce, we should face them head on with the Word of God, pray alongside those whose lives have been wrecked by the devastation of divorce, and seek to love and walk alongside the broken-hearts left behind to heal.  What kind of doctor would leave someone with a gaping wound alone on the operating table to heal on his own just because the doctor did not agree with the act that caused the wound in the first place.  While this has become something that I am deeply passionate about, this is also not my end in writing this blog.

     My end is, however, to address the scar.  The deep-rooted, life-changing scar left behind by the gaping wound of divorce.  One of the hardest parts about facing this wound is that you often feel alone.  You often feel as if you have a massive scar on your arm just underneath your clothes.  While this scar may not be apparent to everyone that you come into contact with, with just a bit of conversation, the heat seems to be turned up, and you pull up your sleeves only to, sometimes accidentally, sometimes intentionally, expose the dreaded scar.  When the scar is exposed, one of two things will happen, those around you will either cower in fear and begin to tip-toe around the scar due to fear of re-opening the wound, or they will immediately begin to try to doctor on and treat the scar and to try to "fix" it to where it cannot be seen so readily.

     Until my recent trip to Mexico, I was attempting to "fix" my scar.  I saw it as a scarlet reminder of past mistakes, past sins, and the dreaded dark days of depression and vast emptiness that came before my life in Christ.  I would wear my long-sleeve shirts to cover the scar, and, as often as possible, I would keep it covered.  However, from time to time, I'd, sometimes willingly, sometimes unintentionally, roll up my sleeves and the awkwardness would set in-- especially in church circles.  In a conversation with some friends just a few weeks ago, the topic of my divorce randomly creeped up and what was a great conversation immediately became placid, dull, and especially awkward.  It shouldn't be this way.  I don't want it to be this way... anyway, my prayer leading into this trip was for God to open my eyes to all that I should see and learn from on this journey.  When I prayed this prayer, I pictured precious little Hispanic children running and playing, and I saw myself working alongside those in need.  I expected to learn about my privilege as an American and how blessed I am to live in such a beautiful well-endowed country.  I expected to be humbled by those that were so content with so much less that what I think I "need" on a day-to-day basis.  And all of these things happened.  Yes, I learned so much from this precious group of people.  But what I didn't expect.. what I never saw coming, was one of the most life-transforming truths I've ever encountered.  God shook me to my very core.  He took all that I thought I had learned over the past few years, turned it upside-down, and exposed me to His truths.

     On our first full day in beautiful Matamoros, Sunday, we sat down before church to have a Bible study with our leader, Blake.  Blake explained that the message that God laid on his heart for this trip was related to abiding in Christ.  We began to walk through John 15.  We discussed what it truly means to abide in Christ, to be connected to Him as our vine, and to be pruned by Him.  As many times as I have heard these verses, and as many sermons as I have heard expositing these verses, I'm not sure that the word prunes has ever stood out to me the way that it did in that moment.

Every branch in me that does not bear fruit he takes away, and every branch that does bear fruit he prunes, that it may bear more fruit. - John 15:2 ESV (emphasis mine)

     When we read and discussed these verses and really dove into the word prunes, we talked about how when a branch is pruned, it is often a painful process, and it will leave a scar.  This painful pruning process is not about punishment, but about refining us to bear more fruit and become more like Christ.  It is for His glory and for our good.  As we discussed pruning, we began sharing stories of how we had seen Christ prune us so that we might bear more fruit.  As I listened to story after story, one word stuck with me... scar.  This one word struck me... and in relation to pruning.  I felt compelled to share my story, and the redemption that occurred following the wound.  And this is where the battle began to rage inside of me.

Share your story.
But, Lord, I don't know these people.  What will they think?  It's a huge mistake.
It's covered in my blood.  My grace is sufficient.
But, Lord, it will get awkward and weird, just like every time before.
Share your story.
But, it will open the scar.  It will show the wound.
Scars should not serve as reminders of past mistakes.  They serve to show wounds that have been healed through Christ alone.  Use your story to show my power and my glory through your healing.

And I did.  I shared-- my story-- and what He was teaching me in that moment.  And I found love. I found comfort.  I found healing.

This was only the beginning of the healing that He had in store for me over the course of this trip.

     Monday night, the Fourth of July, I sat outside feeling the Mexican breeze, listening to the kids' excitement over our fiesta and DOS pinatas!, and talking to the group of people that I was blessed to spend the time serving alongside.  As we sat in the breeze, talking about life... God spoke over me.  Last year, on the Fourth of July, God led me to Oxford in a life-transforming move.  Over this year, He has brought me a solid group of friends, a beautiful church family, a precious mentor, and so many other blessings along the way.  And, as I sat, a solid year later, in an entirely different country, surrounded by new friends, discussing God's providence and redemption... I was floored and overcome with gratitude and praise.  I left the table to watch the children knock out some pinatas.   When I returned to the table, I caught the end of one of my new friend's life story.  He was going along in his story, when I heard that word-- divorce.  I was shocked.  He has a beautiful wife, three beautiful children, and one on the way.  There was no way that this man had ever gone through anything as ugly as divorce, and if he had, how in the world could his life be as beautiful as it was now?!  Then, I caught myself... I was stereotyping.  I was getting awkward.  I was doing the very thing that I was so upset about others doing to me.  Father, forgive me.  So, I kindly asked him to back up and share his story if he didn't mind.  He shared his story from the beginning, and it shook me.  Then, another person in our group shared his story that also included divorce.  He is now happily married with a child on the way as well!  Wow... what are the odds?  God put this team together.  As I listened to their stories, what struck me the most was not so much that others had experienced the same thing as I had as much as it was that God had healed their hearts.  He had taken broken hearts, and mended them.  He had redeemed.  In that moment, God saturated my heart.  That was it.  That was what He was teaching me about my scars.  When I share my scars, when I am open and honest about my wounds and the ways that Christ worked and is working in me and through me to heal those wounds, that is when the healing process truly begins.  While the surface healing has taken place, and it is far from a gaping wound, the scar has formed, and God is working in me to be comfortable is bearing that scar for His glory alone.

   
So, brothers and sisters, bear your scars, roll up your sleeves, share your wounds, tell your story, but most of all, tell of God's redemption and be living proof that all things work together for His glory.  I believe that Louie Giglio said it best when he said, "Why didn't God take away the scars?  Because it was the most powerful story.  Jesus didn't even cover up His scars.  They were healed wounds.  Our scars are a witness to the world.  They are a part of our story.  Healed wounds that are symbols that God has restored us."  This is why we bear our scars-- to share His story of redemption and restoration in our lives!

   



Thank you all for your prayers on my Mexican adventure, they were felt, and they were answered.  May God continue to move in a mighty way on U.S. soil in the same ways that I felt him move in Mexico.

For His Glory Alone,

Kayla

I'm Leaving the Country.

     Next Friday, I am leaving sweet little Oxford.  I'm leaving Grenada.  I'm leaving Mississippi.  I'm leaving all of the comforts, safety, and security of home, and I'm going to Matamoros, Mexico.

     Early last year, after Christ radically transformed my life, I began saying that I felt a strong calling to "go on a mission trip."  I wasn't sure exactly what that would look like, and, aside from a few summer camps, I'd never really gone on a mission trip, much less out of the country.  I began praying about it, and really seeking out what the Lord had for me or what I was being called to, and, in the fall of last year, my eyes were opened wide.  You see, what I took to be a calling to "go on a mission trip" was so much more than that.  God revealed to me through His Word that this was not simply a calling for a trip or a week-long adventure in some foreign country; rather, as my life was transformed last year, He placed a burning desire and passion within me to share the Gospel to share these life-transforming truths to any and everyone that I possibly could.  If Jesus could take a dirty, roughed-up, beaten-down, depressed sinner like me and bring me to life as a new creation in His image, oh, I can't even imagine how He could transform entire groups, cities, states, and nations for His glory!

     Long-story-short, this deep-rooted passion led me to attend a follow-up meeting after Orphan Care Sunday at Pinelake.  At this meeting, we were given information about the various ways to serve and GO to help spread the Gospel of Christ among the nations.  When I picked up the sheet, one trip in particular stood out to me.. Matamoros-- July 1 - 6.  I can't explain why this trip stuck out or anything like that aside to say that I believe God has big things in store.  We will be spending the week serving and working in the Matamoros Children's Home.

     So, that is one-week from today.  One-week from today, I will be getting on a bus for a 12-hour ride to Matamoros, and I could not be more excited.  Well, that was the case until this morning...  This morning, as soon as I woke up, I was flooded with attacks from the Enemy.  "You have one-week to get ready."  "You don't know these people."  "What if they don't like you?"  "What if you lose your passport?"  "What if you get sick?"  "You know what you did yesterday, how you messed up-- how can you share the Gospel when you're a dirty sinner yourself?"  "God can't use you." 

     I was flooded with lie after lie, and, for a moment, I let them sink in.. much deeper than I should have.  When I caught that they were lies from the Enemy, I decided to combat these lies and to seek out the truths from my God in His Word.  As I dug into the Word, the Holy Spirit nudged me... Why are you going on this mission trip?  I gave all of the "reasons" that I had in my heart for going... to love on kids, to share the Gospel, to serve others... But I still felt the nudge... Why?  The Great Commission came to mind.  So, I opened my Bible to Matthew 28:18-20, and this is what I read:

"And Jesus came and said to them, 'All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, teaching them to observe all that I have commanded you.  And behold, I am with you always, to the end of the age.'"

Boom.  There it was.  Why am I going?  Because I am a transformed child of God, and Jesus has called us to rise up and Go!, to rise up and make disciples of all nations, to teach them to observe Christ's commands.  That's why.  I'm following my Savior.  I'd read these verses so many times.  They are repeated over and over when churches are preparing for mission work.  They were quoted over and over in every David Platt book I've read, but, until this morning, these words had not come alive to me.  They were a command yes, but they were a command for the few that Jesus called into full-time missions-- not for little old me that was going on a mission trip for a week.  

Then, it hit me.  Again.  These commands are for me, and, child of God, they are for you too!  It's not over.  Our job is not finished.  Christ has called us ALL to reach the nations for His glory.  He has not just called the select few.  We are all in this.  So, then, this enormous, daunting command, became real, and apparent to me, and, being honest, this began to scare me to death.  It wasn't until I watched the John Piper video (linked below) that I understood that this command was not isolated.  It is surrounded by promises!  Did you get that?!  I may not have it all together but Jesus has all authority in heaven and on earth, and HE is with us ALWAYS.  Peace.  Instant peace.  No more worrying.  No more stressing.  Jesus, the creator, the Savior, the One who defeated death, He is with us.  He is with me.  That's it.  I'm ready.  No matter what may come, He has won.  He is a shield about me.  He is my protection.  So, I can honestly say, as Paul did from his prison cell in Philippians 4, that I can be content in all circumstances, and I can do all things through Christ who gives me strength.

If you have a chance, I encourage you to watch this video as John Piper exposits Matthew 28:18-20-- good stuff.

So, with all of this being said, please keep our team in your prayers as we go.  Please pray for the children and adults that we interact with.  Please pray for lives to be transformed.  Please pray for servants hearts and for direction and discernment.  Please pray for Christ's glory and the Gospel to be proclaimed through our words and our actions.

For His glory alone,

-Kayla

What I've Learned-- Year Four

     

As the final bell rang yesterday, all the feels hit me.  Yet another year has come to a close all too quickly.  Don't get me wrong, I am as ready, if not more ready, for summer, for relaxation, for vacation, for less stress, as anyone else.  I'm ready to have a life outside of being Ms. Golden the math teacher; however, as I heard the students rush down the hall after that final bell, I began to reflect on this school year and all that it has entailed.  To say the least, this school year has been a challenge.  Year four has been the biggest challenge that I've ever had in my four years in the classroom.  From some of the most challenging (but most in need of love) students, to the pressures of full-time grad school and full-time teaching, to the responsibilities of serving with my church, to just trying to balance having a life in general, there were several instances where I felt like this year was going to be the death of me or at least the end of my teaching career.  However, by the grace of God and through His guidance, I have survived, and now I'm standing on the other side of year four looking forward to year five.  As I am reflecting upon this year, I wanted to take note of the many many things that this challenging, but amazing year has taught me.

So, here it goes.. What I've learned-- Year Four:

1)  Mistakes are necessary for progress.

"Failure is success in progress." 

Albert Einstein

     This could quite possibly be the biggest, yet the most ironic lesson that I've learned this year.  You see, all school year, I have "preached" to my students about the power of having a growth mindset and believing that you can improve and grow your brain, especially through making mistakes.  This has become my soapbox throughout the school year.  However, time and time again, as I was teaching a class and things did not go as I had planned or as my students' disruptive behavior became an issue, or I compared my scores/data to other teachers' scores/data, I bought into the lie that maybe I wasn't cut out for teaching after all.  Maybe I was okay when I had the comfortable situation in Grenada, but I could never make it in a real classroom.  Yet, I was still encouraging my students day in and day out to focus on the process and focus on improvement over time and not just a single moment of success or failure-- all while I was focusing on my own failures and short-comings.  It wasn't until very recently when a precious student reminded me that failure is necessary for progress that it hit me square between the eyes-- this year was progress.  While it may have been a year filled with mistakes and times that I have longed for a do-over or two, I have learned more in year four than I have in my previous three years combined, and, the most ironic part is that I've learned these valuable lessons-- not because I succeeded in my every endeavor or because I was hailed as this amazing, all-star teacher, but because I messed up, I got knocked down, I struggled, but I learned.  And, as I've told my students so many times this school year, "Learning isn't easy.. embrace struggle and grow!"

2)  Every day is a new day and the perfect time for a fresh start.

But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope:  The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning great is your faithfulness.  "The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "therefore I will hope in him." 

Lamentations 3:21-24

     His mercies are new every morning.  My, oh my, how I have needed this reminder throughout this entire school year.  In a year filled with, as I stated before, the need for more do-overs and apologies than ever before, I am so thankful that the Lord's mercies are new every morning.  I have also learned the power of apologizing (even especially to 12 and 13 year olds) and asking for forgiveness and a fresh start.  I have seen the power of approaching a new day with a positive attitude and a patient spirit.  I have seen radical change in my classroom this year simply through forgiveness and fresh start after fresh start.  I've seen previously labeled "problem students" change for the better simply by being given a second or third or 20th chance.  It's all about patience, respect, and believing in the power of a fresh start.

3)  No man is an island.

"The most valuable resource that all teachers have is each other.  Without collaboration, our growth is limited to our own perspectives."  

Robert John Meehan

    When I left Grenada, I left one of the most supportive, tight-knit, collaborative team that exists.  We worked as a unit-- on everything.  We had truly mastered the art of collaboration and getting the work done and doing what was best for our students.  We worked hard day in and day out for the good of our students, and we managed to take three different teaching styles and create lessons that allowed all students to learn in our individual classrooms.  Then.... someone had to go and mess it all up by moving to Oxford (No idea who that might be. Haha).  So, when I moved, there was an immediate feeling of being on an island all alone-- new town, new grade, new colleagues.  However, I quickly learned that I was not alone by any means.  OMS has a PLC period built into the teachers' schedules where we have a department meeting every day.  Meeting with the entire math department every day for an entire school year has built a sense of community and collaboration within our grade-level team and within the math department as a whole that I am so glad to be a part of.  We discuss plans, we vent frustrations, we share happy moments, we scour the data, we problem solve, but most of all, we support each other.  I have no doubt that these five people have my back, if when something happens in my classroom, or when I get that parent e-mail, or when my plans just don't turn out like I think they should, I know that my math department is there to back me up and to help me figure out the best solution to the problem.  I may be partial, but the math department is totally the best.  Although I have a lifelong friendship with my Grenada peeps (and always will), I am so thankful for my grade-level team and the math department for the awesome sense of community and collaboration that has been built this school year, and I'm looking forward to working with this awesome crew again next year.  We are the definition of #bettertogether !

4)  Sometimes the students that are the hardest to love, need my love the most.

"If kids come to use from strong, healthy functioning families, it makes our job easier.  If they do not come to us from strong, healthy, functioning families, it makes our job more important." 

Barbara Colorose

     Until this school year, I would have told you that I understood the importance of the above statement, yet, in reality, I had no idea.  While I've taught students that have come from some challenging home situations before this school year, I have not had the influx and large majority of "hard to love" students that are not necessarily from the ideal family situation.  This year, I learned the importance of looking past others' perceptions of a student, putting all other opinions and previous experiences to the side, and simply focusing on the needs of the student and how those needs could be met in order to learn most effectively.  If those needs include having a snack, I learned the value of having snacks on hand.  If the needs include an emotional breather in the hallway, I've learned to allow the student to step out and take a breath.  Y'all, seventh grade is tough.  Life as a seventh grader is crazy, out-of-control, confusing, yet we expect them to put all of this craziness to the side and focus on math, English, social studies, science, ICT, and everything else for 8 hours everyday and to do it all quietly?! Oh man, that's asking a lot of such a little, confused person whose wants and desires on anything but academics.  So, moral of the story?  They have need to learn, so how do we combat the seventh grade crazies?  We meet them where they are.  We venture into the craziness, we address it, and we create a learning environment that best meets the needs of the students and allows them to flourish and to learn!  While it has truly taken me all 180 days of the school year to learn this lesson, I now know that with a little patience and whole lot of love, any student can be successful.

     In closing, year four, it's been real.  It's been fun.  And I guess you could even say that it's been real fun.  Here's to 2 more work days, then a relaxing summer vacation filled with reading good books, travel, sleeping late, and all of the Netflix binges that I can possibly take!  Year five, I see you, and I'm ready... well, not yet... but gimme two months, then I got you!

   

Praise God for Dirty Dishes

Some days it's easy to praise Jesus.  When things are going well, when I feel content, when I am happy, when I'm at church and I can block everything else out... praising Jesus comes as easily as breathing.

Truth?  Lately, praising Jesus has been hard.  Life has been stressful to the max.  I feel like I've been running ninety to nothing every day since January 1st, and it has been getting the best of me.

Yesterday, I woke up having a pity party.  As I scrolled through my Facebook newsfeed, I saw tons of people on vacation, tons of wedding pictures, engagement pictures, and just all around happiness.  Happiness that I long for.  Happiness that I desire  covet. (Father, forgive me.)  This was not the Spring Break that I had planned.  I was supposed to be in Matamoros on a mission trip this week.  Due to different circumstances and the sovereignty of God's plan, I am now going this summer instead.  (Thanks to all who have prayed and donated, please continue to pray for the trip in July!)  So, I took a deep breath, rolled out of bed, and continued my pity party as I began to clean my house (my least favorite thing in the entire world).  As I was washing dishes with my praise music blasting, I couldn't help but sing along.  Then, it hit me like a ton of bricks...

These are the moments when it is most important to praise God.  When life isn't perfect, when you're tired, beat down, ragged, and doing your least favorite thing, praise God.  When it seems like everyone else is traveling, getting married, getting engaged, having babies, and you're not, praise God.  When you're struggling in a graduate school class with a professor that seems to be completely unreasonable, praise God.  When you have 20 seventh graders bouncing off the walls and caring less about the math you're trying to teach them, praise God.  When you're 25 and life has not turned out at all like you thought it would, praise God.

So, I continued washing dishes, while praising my Jesus.  As I did, God revealed to me more and more of all of the things in life that I have to be grateful for.  Simple things, like every single dish and piece of silverware that I washed... each item represented a meal that I'd eaten in the comfort of my home-- on dishes, with air conditioner, with electricity, with a roof over my head-- all paid for by the income from the job that I am blessed to have.  Yet, for some reason, I felt the need to have a pity party this morning because I have not been spending the week in some exotic location?  Father, forgive me.  I am blessed beyond measure, and I'm ashamed to admit that it has taken me so long to get that through my stubborn head.

As I sit here today, I'm realizing, however, that it is about so much more than what I'm blessed to have as far as material things go, above all else, even if I had absolutely nothing else in this life, I'd still have more than what I need in Christ.  It's so easy to stand and sing "In Christ Alone" on Sunday, but by Wednesday to live like it's not true...  Oh, Father, forgive me.  May I find my hope, my contentment, my peace, in Christ alone because He is enough.

I pray that I would hang on to that.  One year ago, February 28th, I fully understood that for the very first time.  I finally got that Christ was enough.  He took my punishment.  He paid my ransom.  He set me free.  He restored my relationship to the Father.  Oh, praise God!  And, this year, on February 28th, I sat in my church praising Jesus for the mighty work He's done in me over the past year, and I meant it with all of my heart.  Yet, as I was driving home from church, at a red light (of course!), I checked my email, and I saw 5 parent emails, 3 student emails, and 2 emails from professors.  Bam.  Reality.  And I let it take over.  I let it steal my joy.  Father, forgive me.

Contentment.  It's a funny word.  It's a funny idea, not in the haha type of way, but in the irony that we are all searching for it, but it's only found in one place that we glance at and walk away.  You see, I'm learning more and more that contentment is, always has been, and will always be found in Christ alone.  He is our strength.  He is our hope.  Any other source of contentment will run dry.

"Water from a broken well will make you thirst again." - Jimmy Needham, Dearly Loved (If you haven't heard it, listen now!  It's beautiful!)



HE is the living water-- the well that will not run dry.  Run to Him and you'll never thirst again.  He meets our every need.  HE is enough.  Rest in that.  He loves you dearly, just call on Him.

"But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." - 2 Corinthians 12:9

- Kayla