My prayer life has gone through seasons. Sometimes it's in spring, where I have renewed energy and determination to spend more time with the Lord. Occasionally it's in summer, when I am full of desire to commune with God throughout the day and even for long stretches of time.

Lately it's been in winter, dry and honestly disappointing. This often happens when I can't hear an answer to my requests or when the answer is no. It is discouraging when I hear, "wait, wait, wait," from the Lord, and I begin to wonder if He doesn't understand how important my requests are to me.

But I know He does. I know He cares for me (1 Peter 5:7), even to the hairs of my head (Matthew 10:30). And I know He even answers prayers with an immediate yes.

In Matthew 8, Jesus begins a string of healings, starting with a leper. He continues to heal a centurion's servant, cast out demons, calm a storm, and heal a paralytic. These all come as direct and immediate affirmative answers to the petitioners' pleas.

I have my own stories of immediate answer to prayer. Last week, I was looking for a particular book as a gift for someone. Meijer was the only place I had time to check for the book, so I power walked to the very small, very limited book section with little hope they would have this special book.

I started on the end cap, scanning the shelves with no success. Then I scooted sideways down the aisle slowly, checking each section. As I reached the end of the row, I was disappointed and began to turn away. But as I did, my eyes dropped slightly and there it was! The book I looked for - the very last copy sitting right in front.

Thank you! I whispered to my Lord. Because in that moment I knew that little book was His way of saying the little details of my life matter to Him. And it is those experiences that show me I must keep praying, and I must keep opening my heart to the Lord. Not just because He sometimes answers "yes" right away, but because I have my mind tuned to His voice, and I have the opportunity to enjoy thankfulness.

          For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that
       you did not receive? If then you
       received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?
          ~ 1 Corinthians 4:7

At choir practice last night, our worship pastor shared why God is worthy of our praise. Many people struggle with idea of God being a jealous God. We don't like the idea of ego because in humans it's revolting; we haven't earned exclusive honor.

I confess I have wrestled with doubts about this concept of worthiness. I know God is worthy, but it's so hard to humble myself enough to realize how truly great He is. If someone is truly worthy, it's not prideful for them to demand praise. We just don't have any cases of complete holiness beside God.

Stories help bring life to abstract concepts like this, so I've thought of a couple. The examples I use from my own life are my brother and some family friends. I frequently "praise" my brother to my friends and coworkers because he is excessively talented with music. Seriously, he has brought me to tears sometimes with his ability to sit down and play a tune without reading any music, and he's a phenomenal composer and arranger, too. So when people ask me about my family, you can be sure I'll mention Micah's musical gifts.

Then there's the L family. After my grandpa passed away five years ago, they cared for us so well. They showed up at the visitation, and we had no clue they were planning to come. They didn't know my grandpa, and the funeral home was an hour away from their house. When we came home after the long, exhausting day of the funeral, they had purchased bags full of food for us and arranged it on our kitchen counter. I remember the orange juice and muffins, in particular. We told many people afterward what a blessing their acts of kindness were to our family at that time. In a sense, we "praised" them, and in that situation, they were worthy of it.

          And now we thank you, our God, and praise your glorious name.

          “But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able thus to offer willingly? For all
          things come from you, and of your own have we given you..."

          ~ 1 Chronicles 29:13-14

God's worthiness is magnified to infinity because He has provided everything for us; we can do absolutely nothing without Him. The air we breathe, the food we eat, the clothes we wear, everything comes from His hand. He is perfectly self-sufficient, yet He chooses to share Himself with us. That is why He can demand our praise. That is why I love to praise Him.

My new extended family in the Philippines, who know how to feast! I'm in the center on the right, and my husband is in the plaid shirt next to me.

There's something about a feast that just conjures up joy and life and fullness. And I'm not just talking about a full stomach.

I wrote yesterday about my dieting extremes and craving Jesus instead of food. But food is still a good thing God created and wants us to enjoy.

God talks a lot about feasting and enjoying Him through the concepts of food and drink. Here are a few:

Genesis 21:8 - Abraham celebrates his promised son Isaac's birth with a feast.

Exodus 12:17 - The Lord tells the Hebrews to celebrate His deliverance with the Feast of Unleavened Bread.

1 Kings 8:65 - Solomon held a feast after the consecration of the temple.

Throughout the Old Testament are commands from God to take rests and commemorate special events with feasts to the Lord - Feast of Trumpets, Feast of Booths, Feast of Weeks, etc. God loves feasting!

One of my favorite verses that I write in a lot of greeting cards and wedding books is Psalm 36:7-9:    
  How precious is your steadfast love, O God!
    The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings.
  They feast on the abundance of your house,
    and you give them drink from the river of your delights.
  For with you is the fountain of life;
    in your light do we see light.

It is so vivid and beautiful and shows God's generous nature. Another Psalm says, "Taste and see that the Lord is good!" (Psalm 34:8) He's inviting us to test his goodness for ourselves.

I mentioned my love for the image of a feast in reference to missions. I had the privilege of attending Urbana 2012, a young adult missions conference, where the theme was Come to the Table. At the conference, the Gospel was presented as an invitation to join God's banqueting table. He is overflowing with love and goodness and blessing, and He wants you to share in the feast!

That is how I think of the Gospel now. And that image is confirmed in the book that explains the consummation of all time: Revelation.

Then I heard what seemed to be the voice of a great multitude, like the roar of many waters and like the sound of mighty peals of thunder, crying out,

“Hallelujah!
For the Lord our God
    the Almighty reigns.
  Let us rejoice and exult
    and give him the glory,
for the marriage of the Lamb has come,
    and his Bride has made herself ready;
  it was granted her to clothe herself
    with fine linen, bright and pure”—
for the fine linen is the righteous deeds of the saints.

And the angel said to me, “Write this: Blessed are those who are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb.” And he said to me, “These are the true words of God.”
Revelation 19:6-9

Feast on God, who He is, His character, His promises, His goodness, and everything good He has created for us to enjoy. Accept His invitation to enjoy His goodness and abundance for all eternity. And look forward to the day when we will see Him face to face and enjoy the greatest dinner party of all time!

Note: I first wrote this post in January of 2015. I made a couple edits to keep it current. :)


I'm on a real open and honest kick here. Yesterday I revealed my deep fears, and I'm about to tell you how much weight I gained in the two months following my wedding. Ten pounds. Yep. It's out now.

My mom warned me this would happen. I went on a self-created low-carb diet with a rigid exercise regimen last summer in preparation for my big day (Can you say 5:00 in the lovely morning every day of the week, please?). I was happy with my progress; I frequently asked my fitness pro of a brother if he would like to see me flex my biceps.

My low-carb diet included the complete exclusion of sweets and sweeteners. It was hard, but I stuck with it. What my mom warned me was that as soon as I returned to my normal eating habits, I would crave carbs like crazy. And I did.

I actually ate quite healthfully the first two days of marriage. But then we hit our all-inclusive honeymoon resort with super gourmet tropical food, and I went crazy. I ate every bite of every meal, ordered waffles for breakfast, and ate dessert every night. I was stuffed, but it was amazing.

It took me a couple months to realize how very tight my work pants were getting - the same pants that had been practically falling off during the summer. It was not a nice feeling. The other part of my problem was that I went from exercising six days a week to once every other week, and my metabolism just wasn't the same. I told myself there was no way I was going shopping to buy bigger pants, so I needed to lose the weight.

I was swinging from one extreme to the other, and I didn't really know how to stop. Every time I tried to "eat healthy," a party or some event would come up, and I would make an exception, like the time I ate three full plates plus dessert at the Chinese buffet. I ate until I was stuffed and uncomfortable regularly, and I blamed it on my husband for wanting to keep an assortment of snacks and chocolates on hand at all times. The funny thing is, he rarely eats them. Man, I love him.

It finally hit me that I was trying to satisfy my soul with food. I was lonely when my husband worked long hours and on second shift. I was empty because my prayer life was so shallow. I was out of control because I was craving the wrong thing. I craved food because it tasted so good, but its comfort could only tie me over for a couple of hours. My craving was really for Jesus.

Today I read in Matthew 4 about Jesus' temptation in the wilderness. I've heard verse four in relation to healthy living and honoring God with our bodies so many times, but today it hit home:

But he answered, "It is written,
'Man shall not live by bread alone,
but by every word that comes from the
mouth of God.'"

See, healthy living is a mixture of three things: healthy diet, healthy exercise, and healthy spiritual life. I knew that in my soul, but a Christian fitness coach I follow, Clare Smith, put it into words for me. When one of those three is out of proper balance, the whole system is messed up. I need to crave Jesus more than anything, and fill myself with His Word and His truth and His light. Then can I be healthy. Then can I get my eating habits under control - His control.

It's again hard to confess to you that I, who claim to attempt to encourage you and teach God's Word through this blog, struggle with my prayer life. It's hard to confess that I usually crave brownies more than Jesus. But I do. I'm striving to follow Jesus in every area of my life every day, but I screw up. So today I'm writing this to tell you I'm giving my health over to Jesus once again, and I'm encouraging you to do the same. January (or September) is a time when many people try to get control of their weight or health, but for us, every day of the year is the day that the Lord has made, and the day that we can surrender to His control.

My heart racing, I stepped warily toward the bathtub, bracing myself. I detoured to turn on Pandora on my tablet, which was balanced on the back of the toilet, looking rather nervously at the toilet seat below, if tablets can look nervous. Praise music filled the air, calming me slightly. I didn't hum along as I usually did; my next act would take too much concentration. I resumed my course toward the shower. Now I could feel the blood pumping in my neck.

My hand whipped up to eye level and yanked the shower curtain to the right with a swoosh. My heart slowed by two beats per minute. Nothing there. Breathed deeply. I grabbed the eye makeup remover leaning in the corner of the shower caddy and moved back to the sink. Part one down, parts two and three to go.

As I spread the creamy makeup remover over my mascara-thick eyes, I tried to hum along with the praise songs pouring out of my tablet. Opening my eyes meant serious stinging and extra rinsing, so I forced myself to keep them shut, wishing I could open them the entire time.

After groping for the toilet paper roll, ripping off a square, and blotting my blackened eyes, I looked for the facial cleanser. Sometimes it sits on the counter near the toothbrush holder, ready and rearing to be squeezed. I can't tell you how many times I've almost spread toothpaste on my face and squeezed face soap onto my toothbrush. Other times, it's put away in the drawer just to the left of the sink.

The facial cleanser was on the counter this particular night, so I reached for it and readied myself for the next minute or two of washing. You see, I'm afraid of what could be in my house; namely, creepy people, murderous people, thieves with weapons, or just plain crazy people. Especially the crazy people, after watching Jane Eyre once.

I hate having to close my eyes for those minutes while washing my face. I feel vulnerable because I can't see the attacker's approach and because I'm leaned over the sink, my defenseless hands full of water. It's a silly fear in the daytime or when my husband's home or after I've watched a charming fairy tale, but it's a fear as real as the water I splash my face with. What if someone had snuck into our home while my husband and I were at work? What if they had evil intentions toward me? What if I couldn't defend myself or simply fainted from fright?

The best method I've found to combat these "what ifs," these lies, is to quote Scripture and name God's attributes. If it's too hard to speak while I'm covering my face with soap and water, I turn to picturing myself wrapped in God's arms or surrounded by His angels. As long as I can focus on those truths: His Word, His character, and His promises, I feel safe.

It is embarrassing for me, a grown woman, to share with you that I freak out almost every time I wash my face at night. But I share this because I know we all have very real fears, whether reasonable or unreasonable, that instill lies into our minds. I want to tell you that you can overcome with the power of God's Word and in His Name.

That is one reason why I chose Isaiah 41:10 for my second Siesta Scripture Memory Team verse. Judah has just been threatened by Babylon, and they know they're beat. Yet God tells them, "I am with you," even in the midst of war or occupation or slavery. No matter what they face, God is their God, and He will uphold them.

No fear is too small for God. "For He knows our frame; He remembers that we are dust." (Psalm 103:14) He is your God, and He is with you.

"...fear not, for I am with you;
    be not dismayed, for I am your God;
I will strengthen you, I will help you,
    I will uphold you with my righteous right hand."
Isaiah 41:10

My friend was having a rough morning, so she woke me up at 8:30 a.m. (it had been a long night, okay) to ask me a question that had been plaguing her. My answer was all she needed to get straightened out and move on with her day. I was quite honestly surprised by how relieved she was at my very simple answer to her very simple question, and I was a little worried, too.

Later that morning, I got together with another friend. We were chatting about our recent activities, as friends often do, and I mentioned my strange phone call that morning. I didn't have malicious intent toward my other friend, but as soon as I finished my story, I realized I had broken her trust. My in person friend probably now thought my phone friend was a little off her rocker.

It was a bad day. I felt pretty awful, wrestling between thoughts of "Should I feel guilty for breaking her confidence?" or "Should I not feel guilty because I was just talking about my day?" In the end, the answer to the first question was yes, and the second, no.

I heard of a family who would not allow their children to talk about other people, even in a positive way, around the dinner table. They were required to talk about themselves, world events, and ideas only. This not only prevented gossip but trained the children in the art of conversation. I definitely want to implement this concept in our future family. Maybe even now. I'll ask the hubby what he thinks.

Anyway, my conversations with phone friend and in person friend came to mind today while reading Ephesians 5:4: "Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving." Too often I exempt myself from this verse because I don't usually struggle with rude jokes and swearing and bad language. But that foolish talk sandwiched in the middle? What's not foolish about chatting with friends about celebrity fashion or relationships? What's not foolish about constantly talking about our hair, makeup, and clothing issues? What's not foolish about breaking the unspoken but nevertheless understood confidence of a friend's frazzled phone call?

Yes, I have let foolish talk come out of my mouth more often than I care to recount. My words are poison or refreshing water, darkness or light, and I must wield their power carefully, not foolishly. Later in Ephesians 5, Paul admonishes the church to make the most of the time they have. What if I applied that to my conversation? What if I prayed before each encounter with a friend or family member, "Lord, help me use this precious conversation time wisely, building up, encouraging, helping, inspiring, speaking life and joy and fun and goodness into this person, full of the Spirit."?

What do you do on days you feel worthless? When you're striving and getting nowhere? Or when you don't strive at all because you can't stand the hamster wheel syndrome?

I want to do nice things for several reasons, and yours may be similar: honor God, please my husband, make a friend smile, etc. But nice things are just that: nice things. There's not much there. Sometimes it feels so empty.

I'm feeling empty today. Well, I'm feeling full of whatever virus made my tonsils swell up and my head cloudy and my feet cold. But empty at the root.

Here's the back story. Last night before bed, I was full of giggles. My poor husband was bewildered. He hadn't told a joke, wasn't making funny faces, and we certainly hadn't watched a sitcom. Still, I could not stop giggling. It just broke out suddenly and remained for several minutes while I attempted in vain to regain my composure.

Then it hit me. There was too much in my brain. It was all good stuff: Bible study, Bible reading plan, blog ideas (I wrote down about eight while catching up on my reading plan in Isaiah last night), organizational ideas, home decor, recipes, parties I want to host, friends I miss and want to grab coffee with, and the list went on and on. As I lay on the giant fluffy pillow in our living room trying to process my giggling fit, one thought would lead to another until I realized I had stuffed an unmanageable amount of good and bad stress into my mind. So it had exploded with an attempt at the best medicine known to mankind: laughter.

And the laughter was good, very good for me--endorphins are a beautiful thing. But when I woke up today with this sickness and had to stay home from praise team practice, then from Bible study, then from a work meeting, then from picking up our clearance Christmas tree, I had a good deal of time to sit (or lie) around and process all those stresses some more.

The conclusion I came to? It happens to be related directly to something I read in Isaiah last night: I'm trying too hard.

I'm striving and seeing no fruit, putting in too many hours of effort during the day and not of hours of sleep during the night with very little to show for it. I'm acting like the frightened Israelites who say they'll flee from their enemies and devise plans for their escape. But God says they won't get far.

Isaiah 30:15
15 For thus said the Lord God, the Holy One of Israel,
“In returning and rest you shall be saved;
    in quietness and in trust shall be your strength.”

God is telling the Israelites to come back to Him, to rest in His shelter, even though it looks crazy and scary and like a death-trap. And He wants you and I to rest in His salvation, too. Resting looks like we're going nowhere. If you want to make progress on a road trip, you can't pull over at a rest stop and just hang out all day. But we're not going to make any progress either if our tires keep blowing, or the engine overheats, or we run out of gas.

I've burned out not because I'm doing bad things but because I'm doing good things the wrong way. I'm not finding strength through trusting in God. I'm trying to muster up strength to just get it done. And while I trust in Christ for my salvation from eternal damnation, I'm struggling to trust Him for my sanctification, thus my elaborate Bible reading/memory and healthy living plans for the new year.

At the end of my life, I don't think God is going to care how many bunches of kale I ate or 5Ks I ran or parties I threw or times I read through the entire bible in a year. I think what's really going to matter is how well I know Him. So what is it this new year that will make me know more about my Jesus?

This year I joined Beth Moore's Siesta Scripture Memory Team, and I'm working toward the goal of 24 more verses of life-giving Scripture branded on my heart. I'm supposed to choose a new verse on the 1st and 15th of every month and post it in a comment on Beth's blog. For brevity's sake, Beth asked her readers to not explain the 5,000 word back story behind the choice of every verse, but I am challenging myself to share the reason for my memory verses here with you.

Verse #1
Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”
John 8:12

God has really been impressing this quality of Himself on me lately. If you recall, I chose light as the theme for my New Year's post. I think there are two reasons for this.

One part begins in winter of 2014. I was depressed last winter. Truly depressed, not just the type I say jokingly when I'm recounting the messy state of my apartment (it's depressing). It was the kind where it took effort to smile, where I didn't want to get out of bed to go to work in the morning, or to church, and I was the kid in the family who always loved church. It was my social life for the most part. But last winter I didn't want a social life. I felt sad all the time and didn't want to put on the face to mingle at parties or small groups or choir practice. I didn't want to get together with friends because they always ask how I am, and I didn't want to tell the truth, and I didn't want to lie. I felt trapped, without purpose, like I couldn't grasp my dreams and couldn't move forward with my goals. It was like my legs were glued to this dreary, dark spot on the path, and I wasn't going anywhere.

I needed Light. Some light came through a sweet counselor at church who helped me see how much God delights in me just as I am. She told me to write Psalm 139 on my mirror and say it to myself every morning as I got ready for the day. Some light came through my then boyfriend (now husband) who proved his commitment to our relationship in spite of my doubts and discouragement. Some light came through my parents who listened and prayed and prayed some more for me as I cried almost daily for seemingly no reason.

Another part of my light story is a lot harder because it's not me. At least for my part, I have a choice in how I react to circumstances, and I can choose to reach for and see the Light when it's held out for me. But when someone I love is walking in darkness, and I'm trying to hold up the Light, and others are holding out Light for them, and they chose again and again to walk in darkness, I can't even tell you how heartbreaking that is.

For years now I've watched this person I love so deeply walk farther and farther down a slippery slope of self-deception and self-destruction, to the point where last fall, I thought I was going to lose them. It was the worst night of my life followed by a very dark few months as I've watched them trying--and sometimes not trying because it's so hard--to climb out of a pit of depression and anxiety. I've prayed for God to shine brighter and take hold in this person's life.

They need the Light. So I'm praying to the Light, speaking words of Light, and living in the Light more desperately this year. I need Him, and everyone I know needs Him. Whether it's light for our journey of faith, or light to even begin the journey, we all need the Light of the world.

Two and a half years ago I graduated from college, initiated a serious breakup, and went through three months of job searching that left me feeling unwanted and depressed. I lost appetite (highly unusual for me) and therefore weight, which scared my mother. I wandered aimlessly through each day, my only goals being completing job applications and scheduling interviews.

I'm on the Young Adult Missions Panel at my church. Sounds fancy, but we simply meet monthly to pray for our adopted missionaries, the countries where they serve, and our church's young adult community, for God's mission to take root among those groups. It's a powerful thing, and I'm grateful to be part of it.

The other night we heard from a beautiful woman named Sharon who works at our church about how God called her family to move to Maine. The previous month we heard from a vibrant man named Josh about how God called his family to move from Texas to Maine to plant a church. So now these two families, who prior to last year had no connection, will be living and working together in a very post-Christian community in Maine, bringing God's light to a dark place.

It struck me, though, after hearing both testimonies, how God calls people differently. Sometimes He tells us to leave it all behind, but sometimes He takes it away to enable us to move freely.

In Josh's case, he owned a successful company in Texas. Their family was well-off financially, involved in a great church, and situated among a loving community of friends. Josh and his wife and daughters didn't think anything was wrong. They were involved in ministry and doing good things in Jesus' name. Then one day God told Josh to sell his business, move his family to Maine, and plant a church. So he did.

A little over a year ago, Sharon's husband lost his formerly very secure and stable job due to budget cuts. They told God they were opening their hands to do whatever He called them to. Wherever He wanted them to go, they would go. Not too long after, Josh was at our church meeting with the elders and missions staff because we are supporting him in his church plant. After meeting with Sharon, he asked if she and her husband had ever considered moving to Maine. God worked in Sharon's heart and among the rest of her family to tell them that was where they needed to go. They're moving to Maine this summer.

These stories just struck me with how good God is with teaching us to do His will. You'll be leaving behind good things like a good job or good friends no matter what the circumstances. But God's goodness and faithfulness supersedes anything good we thought we had to give up. That is the overarching theme of these two testimonies. God never removes something good without replacing it with Someone better - Himself, and all the perfect Love and fullness of Joy that He is.

People love light. That's why we like vacationing in sunny places. That's why kids love gadgets that give their parents the strobe effect (not because they give their parents the strobe effect, I hope). That is why we, well, light up when we see a street decked out in icicle lights and magical light-up reindeer at Christmastime. And the majority of humans are diurnal, if they get the choice. Yes, that's a real word.

But a lot of people live in the dark. We retreat to dark spaces, mentally and physically, if we are ashamed or feel we have something to hide. The robber crouches in the corner if he hears footsteps nearby. The adulteress waits until after dark to go to her lover's house. We even try to hide our figures with black clothing.

There is so much darkness in the world: death, divorce, disease, disaster. We don't have to look far to find it. What the world needs now is light. Desperately. Jesus came to bring light, and we who are in Him are called the light of the world. We have the power through Christ to shine light into dark places and bring hope.

My New Year's resolution is to shine brightly. It's not measurable and doesn't have a deadline attached to it, but it is definitely what God wants me to do. Depending on the day, shining brightly could mean taking time to listen to a friend who is hurting. It could mean making some noise to draw attention to a form of oppression. It could mean sharing the Gospel with a neighbor.

Don't be daunted by the darkness. Remember that even a small candle burns brightly in the darkness of a cavern. Light cannot be overcome by darkness! Let it be said of us what was quoted from Isaiah when Jesus came to earth: "The people dwelling in darkness have seen a great light, and for those dwelling in the region and shadow of death, a light has dawned." (Matthew 4:16) Let's hold up the light of hope and life so people can move toward it. Let 2015 be the year of light in Jesus' name!