All tagged destiny

Here I am.

Face to face with my own brokenness.

In desperation I cry out, oh God…deliver me, as I see the depth of my sin, realize the immensity of my weakness. Oh God…deliver me.

But how? How does He deliver? What will He do to free me from myself?

Let Me show you the dream on My heart, He whispers.

And He takes me to that place.

That place of most dreaded sadness. There. Golgotha. Mary’s robes whipping in the wind as tears stream down her face. Man unrecognizable hanging on a tree. Blood-soaked ground and moans of anguish.

This is My dream, He says again with wetness on his cheeks and a smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

Oh God. God. What could you mean? How is this Your dream?

Here, give Me your sin. Give Me your brokenness, He says.

I hand it over and wonder what on earth my sin has to do with His dream. He takes it in His hands and walks over to this place of greatest grief…the cross of Christ. He lays my sins there at the cross and beckons for me.

Fall is in the Air: Change is Coming...Let Hope Arise.

Fall is in the air.

The trees are still green, but daydreams of lying under a canopy of gold and looking up through the leaves while the sunlight plays in dapple drops on your face make you smile, because you know what’s coming. You know it’s not far away…this season of autumn-crisp days and pumpkin-scented everything.

Mmmm…yes, hope is stirring.

Hope is stirring in anticipation of the changing seasons because you know that the season coming brings the warmth of blankets and family and cider and curling up with a good book with no guilt at all.

And maybe, like me, the hope inside your soul is stirring, too.

Because maybe as the seasons change outside your window, the seasons are changing inside as well. Maybe within your heart, the darkness of the shadows that have been hovering is being dappled by sunlight drops of hope that have fallen through the leaves of doubt and fear.

Repurposed: How to Have a New Outlook on Life Even When Things Look Bleak

“Siri, tell me where the coolest Starbucks in Dallas is.”

She gave me ideas for a few, but this one – this one looked special. I read a couple of articles about its unique interior design, about its rooftop garden. So when I walked in, I looked around before I ordered my coffee (yeah…crazy).

Long, black iron community table with tall iron chairs. Leather wingbacks and plush wall-installed sofas. Blown-glass chandeliers.

As a Starbucks-vibe connoisseur (the coffee is ok, but the Starbucks vibe? Oh yes, take me every day. To me, finding a new Starbucks feels like Christmas)…I was absolutely impressed. But what I loved the most was the shiplap-esque wall, and the gorgeous repurposed wood hanging artfully and beautifully from the ceiling, creatively covering up the air ducts.

Stunning. Absolutely stunning. It took my breath away. Did you ever just see something so beautiful that you felt like you almost couldn’t breathe? It hits different people in different ways by different means…for some it’s architecture, for some it’s flowers, for some it’s Picasso (you’re weird if this is you, but that’s ok, I like weird people).

He's in the Darkness: Enduring the Dark Night of the Soul

It’s so dark here.

Darkness like that cave we visited on a field trip as kids. They said, “Turn off your flashlights and then put your hand in front of your face.”

So we did, and it was like we didn’t even have hands, like our hands were phantoms, lost with the rest of us in the darkness.

The darkness is complete and the silence is, too. Silence that can’t be described, like a room without windows or doors, without the whirr of air or the creak of a hinge.

I ache for a thunderstorm. That roaring, loud crash that is so obviously a message to run to safety; that rain that drenches me and makes me cold and I shiver and I shake, but at least I’m feeling something.

I dream of busy streets. That rushing to and fro, the honking of horns, that race that makes me feel like I’m doing something even if all I’ve done is cross the street alive or drive my car from one end of the city to the other.

I long for light, for a sunny day in the mountains where you almost have to close your eyes for a moment because it’s just too good, it’s just too beautiful.

But it’s dark here and I’m lost, my soul a phantom like the hand in front of my face.

Let Us No More Fear Our Crosses

“Before crosses used to frighten me – I used to get goose bumps at the thought of suffering – but now I embrace suffering even before it actually comes, and like this Jesus and I live in love.”

Mother Teresa

 

I have a picture of Jesus hanging on my wall.

Black and white except the blood, jarring in its redness, the white of the paper punctuated by the very wounds of Christ’s suffering.

“Thank You, Jesus,” I whisper as I look at the painting, “Thank You for what You’ve done for me. And oh, make me more like You, and may I accomplish all that You’ve called me to do. For You deserve it, You sacrificed your life for it.”

Do you pray like this?

I think that you do.