Sunday, August 23, 2009


I've been having a lot of thoughts lately.

Thoughts that don't necessarily connect.

Or make sense.

Unfinished, uneducated, irrational.

I have thrown open the windows and am airing out the dusty confines of my mind and my heart.


If we approach our lives from a logical standpoint, as Christians we should know there is absolutely nothing for us to worry about.

We have given our lives to Christ.

And Christ loves us. He is pulling for us. He has plans for us.

If we surrender, then what happens next is not so much in our control anymore.

But we risk becoming apathetic. Living lives of inaction or stagnancy.

"God's got it under control..." does not mean we are no longer responsible for the way we live our lives.

It means that our energies are spent pursuing God and drawing closer to Him. And when our hearts are so close to His, we can trust our own judgement. We can look at the chaos of our worldly lives and know that He did not create pain, but He will use it. That He did not intend for us to be lonely, but He will meet us there.


I dropped out of college this semester.

I couldn't make my school schedule coincide with my work schedule.

And I found myself with thousands of dollars of unplanned bills.

So I withdrew from classes.

And I am faced with the first fall season without a campus life in four years.

But I don't know what God wants from me.

He's calling me to DO something. Action. Move. To get involved. To be passionate.

What does that look like?

He's calling me to love people. That's always been what He's asked of me.

Now He's emphasizing investment.

Personal relationships that go deeper than hanging out on Friday nights.

More than where you live and what you do and where you grew up.

This is harder than it sounds.


I am learning.

I am learning that I know absolutely nothing.

That I think way too highly of myself.

That I am impatient.

I am learning what I need.

And what I want.

That these lessons are not specific to any age or maturity level...

these lessons are a part of life.

Lessons we must continue to learn.

Questions we must continue to ask, if we are to continue to grow.


My life today is a direct result of desperate prayers.

I am not sure when God began to answer them ... because maybe He's been answering them all along.

I am nearsighted. Unable to see what He is doing in the big picture.

All I remember is desperately praying for friends. For community. For a place where I belonged.

All I know is that one night in February, a dear friend harassed me into coming out to Jessamine Co. on a Thursday night. And that led me here. To this place.

I continue to pray. To pester God about it.


He is doing something huge right now.

He is doing something new.


I am unsure of His plans for me.

But He knows my heart's desire...

my desire for fellowship, for a husband, and a family.

For purpose and creativity. For a little coffee shop or a community center...


I find myself thinking metaphorically.

I am running.

We are running.

I will continue to run.

And you will keep running.

We will all run.

And one day...

you and i, we might fall into step with each other.

Running in the same direction.

The way I will love you will be different than any other.

We will not distract each other from our race... but, instead, encourage.



I am running my race. And you are running yours.

But God will have seen it fit for our races to become the same... seen it fit for us to have a partner.


Which means that my only worry is to continue to run.

To pace myself.

To breathe.

To be the right person.

To run my race.

Because I believe that God knows the plans He has for us.

Sunday, August 9, 2009


Even when it is quiet around us... there is still noise.

I sit here in what I have come to call "silence".

But the fridge is humming.

The air conditioner is blowing.

Even when I am driving, I might be quiet.

But the radio is on.


I am always looking for signs.

Rarely stopping to listen.

Seeking God in the noise and in the mess.

Knowing He is there.

But because of the chaos, not hearing Him fully.

Like when you have the radio blaring... and underneath all the volume, you hear your phone ring.

He is whispering.

Whispering so quietly, it requires us to come close so we can hear.


What would happen if we started to turn it all off?

All the noise.

All the visual chaos.

Started to pare it all down.

Peel it all away.

Unplug. Disconnect. Shut down.


Because He is there.

Underneath it all.

He's being quiet, because He wants you to be quiet.

He's whispering because He desperately wants you to draw near.


This is not to say that He is not capable or willing to rise above the noise.

Very often, our Father will demand your attention.

His voice will boom and echo. He will rattle the windows.

Tonight, He was a voice over my shoulder, talking in my ear.

I almost missed Him.

He spoke through Jon and through Granddad.

Proverbs from wise men about running races and pulling in the same direction.


But He is whispering.

A steady rhythm under all the music.