Hope

I have given up. 

And I'm so full of joy about it.

I have thrown away all the weight of expectation that I have carried my whole life. I count it all as lost. 

There's an expectation that is good and holy. The kind where you get chills and feel like you might come out of your skin with anticipation and wonder.

But then there's the kind that hangs around your neck. This is the kind of expectation that will drown you faster than almost anything else could. It is a heavy, dark expectation, and it can take on a lot of different faces.

The face that stares at you in disappointment. The one that says, "You aren't good enough, didn't you expect to be better? Didn't you think you'd have it figured out by now? Kind of looks like you failed." 

The face of disapproval. It glares at you, not satisfied by your performance, your physique, your personality. It finds you wanting. I have found that this face so often looks just like my own, screwed into a frown, castigating myself for my lacking. 

The face of despair. The other two have driven the features into an almost permanent droop. They have beaten you into expecting nothing. Not that you don't have expectations, but that you expect no good thing, want no good thing, hope for no good thing. 

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you in turmoil within me?

Hope in God; for I shall again praise him, my salvation and my God.

Psalm 43:5

So, I've given up. I'm tired of these same faces and same voices, this expectation that pulls me under and threatens to drown me with its weight. I'm throwing it off my neck, because bondage is not what I am called to.

Instead, I'm choosing to hope. Not hope that circumstances change or that I become a better person. But I choose to hope in the One who has declared salvation over me. 

He is greater and more mighty than any expectation I could have for myself. I expect much of Him because He has given much. He has consistently delivered more than any of us could ask or imagine. In what greater thing or person can hope be found?

My expectations have brought me nothing but death. But the hope of the Lord is full of life. I lay up these heavy expectations of mine on the altar and instead receive a different sort of weight of expectation. An expectation that anchors me, allows me to be freely bound to the One that will deliver.

And this giving up brings fullness of joy.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.

Romans 15:13

Jesus

Lately, I find myself compelled to read Hebrews. Usually when I'm "compelled" to read something, I blaze right on through it, speed reading to get the high points, and then "yes, Lord, it's good! What's for lunch?"

I was compelled and I read it. In one sitting, like I usually do. And then right when I got to the end, ready to dust my hands off and move on, I heard, "OK, read it again. Slowly."

It's an awful thing to say, but even when I read it this first time, I thought it was good...and that's all I thought. So this "read it again" business is pushing me out of my comfort zone. Which is exactly why I should do it.

So, I have been reading Hebrews 1. Only. The first. Chapter. This is a painfully slow pace for me, and yet, there is something for me here. 

Or someone.

That first chapter slaps you right in the face with the fullness of Jesus. 

Confession time: I have struggled with loving Jesus. There, I said it. 

For some reason in my mind, Jesus has been the hardest one to love. God, my father, my friend, the one who is sacrificial and full of plans and knowledge, I don't have any trouble with Him. I get Him. The Holy Spirit, mysterious, hard to grasp but I feel His help all the time.

Jesus has kind of always been an afterthought.

Oh, it feels like blasphemy. I promise this will get better.

I don't even know why I have felt that way. I've prayed for God to create a love for Jesus in me. And really, things have changed over the years. I would say I have developed an appreciation for Jesus, but the deep love I'm supposed to have has alluded me. 

Until the other day I read a quote on Facebook. I don't honestly remember what it was, but I do know that it completely left Jesus out of the equation when it spoke of our saving. And a fire in me stirred.

It makes sense that in our culture, Jesus is the hardest. He was brutally honest, completely controversial, brutally murdered, and the things he said are true are hard to take in. He just doesn't fit easily into our understanding of the world today.

Why do you think that the entire first chapter of Hebrews is dedicated to showing us who He is, that we might not be mistaken? It's so easy to write Him off. God forbid we do it, but isn't it easy to not look Him in the face? 

But there, in the first chapter of Hebrews, He is found. In the fullness of glory, grace, holiness, and provision, He sits on the throne. I'm pretty sure someone who "upholds the universe with his power" is not someone to be ignored.

You can't remove Him from the equation. If you do, you're left with questions that have no answer.

Jesus is the unapologetic answer to the the question of what do we do about sin. He is not a weak pawn in God's plan but a powerful, willing sacrifice in our stead.

Oh, how I wish I had had a better understanding of Him.

So, I repent of my ignorance. My willful obliviousness to who He truly is. I embrace Him for the salvation He offers me, I ask Him to show me how He is more than enough. May He create in all of us a deep understanding of who He is and what's He's done, because it's the greatest story ever told.

He is the radiance of the glory of God and the exact imprint of his nature, and he upholds the universe by the word of his power. After making purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high, having become as much superior to angels as the name he has inherited is more excellent than theirs.

Hebrews 1:3-4 

Night Shift

It's been 5 years.

5 years straight of staying up all night long, 12 hour shifts that stretch from 7:00 PM to 7:00 AM.

5 years.

I am not built for night shift. Ever since I was a little girl, when night time started coming, I started falling apart. My mom called it "the night time sadness." It was not pretty. It generally included a fair amount of anxiety, lots of crying, and probably lots of frustration on my mom's part, although she was sweet to hide it (usually).

Guess what? I grew up, took a night shift position, and believe it or not....it's the same. There's a lot of anxiety, more crying than I would care to admit, and yes, the people who have to deal with me would probably say that they get frustrated, although they are sweet about it.

Those of you who haven't worked night shift might think that a person could adjust to it. I'm here to tell you that, at least for me, it's not true. My body is in full rebellion against this "sleeping during the day" thing, which causes my crazy to escalate. There's no getting used to it for this girl.

Before you get all "poor Emily" on me, let's be real. Everybody has something hard to deal with. Maybe you don't have to stay up all night, but there is something that is really, really difficult for you in your life. Maybe you don't like your job, maybe your kids are driving you crazy, maybe you feel completely and utterly alone. Maybe it's worse than that. But everybody has something.

But here's the other thing....is God not sovereign?

What I mean by that is, did He not know what our circumstances would be? And does He not walk with us, dwell in us, work in us...anyway?

And what if it's not just "anyway" but "because of?"

So often I have despaired over my haywire mind, exhausted body, and broken spirit. I've been angry, frustrated, and, I'm a little ashamed to say, hopeless about it.

1 Peter starts out like this "To those who are elect exiles of the dispersion in Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia, and Bithynia, according to the foreknowledge of God the Father, in the sanctification of the Spirit, for obedience to Jesus Christ and for sprinkling with his blood: May grace and peace be multiplied to you."

I don't know a lot about this, but I do know that being an exile is generally a bad thing. Nobody wants to be exiled (unless you maybe have a toddler that won't let you go to the bathroom by yourself. Then exile sounds pretty great). But God foreknew what their situation would be. And they aren't called to "just push through" "try to survive," or "hang in there."

They're called to grace and peace that multiplies...despite their circumstances. And maybe because of.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance that is imperishable, undefiled, and unfading, kept in heaven for you, who by God's power are being guarded through faith for a salvation ready to be revealed in the last time. In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith - more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire - may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. 

1 Peter 1:3-7

Night shift has been so hard for me. So, so hard. But there is a sanctification that God is doing in and through it that I wouldn't trade. He has caused my eyes to be opened to my inability. I think I can just power through things, but I just can't power through night shift. He is the only one who can sustain me, because my brain doesn't even function right. But his does. 

He has created a new, stronger, more child-like faith, because He has allowed me to be brought down to my knees. My faith is being made more precious than gold, by no merit of my own, and despite a lot of resistance on my part.

So, no, I don't want to stay on night shift one more minute than I have to. I'm praying for day shift. But would I trade what he has given me over the course of 5 years of night shift? I can't say that I would. He has placed me here, on purpose. He knew exactly what night shift would do, and he allowed it, because he is good, his ways are good, his plan for me is good. And the best for me, right now, in this moment, is the hard of night shift. And it's good. 

Repentance

I find myself on my knees in repentance today.

I have been wallowing in my feelings of entitlement. The reality of my life and the expectation of my life are colliding, and it's not pretty. It's especially not pretty when I throw a fit about it.

I'm not going to say that I have suffered much. In comparison, my suffering is so small. But it is my own and sometimes I don't handle it that well. 

But I have realized that what I have really been doing is placing myself and my desires above God and what He has planned for me. I think I should get what I want because, hey, I'm important! 

I am a fool.

The problem is that I understand that I was saved, but I don't understand who I am saved to.

Because at the moment that I was saved, I was not just saved to myself, to whatever it is that I want to get out of life. No, I was saved to a holy God. And because I was saved to a holy, completely righteous God, then I am saved to a greater purpose than anything I can imagine. Even if it is vastly different than what I wanted. Or expected. 

His purpose in our salvation is the right and glorious lifting of His name to its place.

And when He saved me, He created in me a new purpose. But sometimes standing in the midst of a holy purpose is so uncomfortable. I want to have the glory of heaven but on earth. I also want it to feel good. I want what He wants for me and what I want for me to be the same. And all that shows is that while I am saved, I am still being transformed.

So does that mean that now I get it? Now I fully understand and I can walk joyfully through whatever suffering He calls me to? I wish. I wish it was that simple for me. Odds are that it's not. 

But what I can do now is be aware of the selfish heart I carry within myself. And maybe I'll find myself on my knees more and on a pedestal less. 

The reality is that He is a holy, good God. And His purpose for me is my good because of His deep and unfailing love for me. May I learn to believe that.

Therefore do not be ashamed of the testimony about our Lord, nor of me his prisoner, but share in suffering for the gospel by the power of God, who saved us and called us to a holy calling, not because of our works but because of his own purpose and grace, which he gave us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, and which now has been manifested through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel... 

1 Timothy 1:8-10

Good Friday

I had these big plans of what my Good Friday would look like.

I knew I had to work, so extra effort would have to be made. I'd get up early, read my Bible, pray, and listen to worship music on the way to work. I'd arrive, happy and grateful for the great sacrifice Jesus made for me. My attitude would be great as I had taken time to contemplate all he had done for me.

Reality: I drove to work with head back on the headrest, eyes half-open, listening to Cake. Now, I'm sitting in the parking lot with my bad attitude and Benadryl hangover, waiting till the last possible minute to walk in. 

Oh yeah, I read my bible before I came. I had to remind myself 27 times to focus. Hey, dumbie, this is important! Stop thinking about what you're going to eat or how many nights you have left at work. Yeah, it didn't go that well.

I totally failed at that contemplative, repentant thing we're supposed to do on Good Friday.

But isn't that when the cross means more?

When I'm down in the muck that is real life, and all I can do is half-heartedly look at the cross for a minute, is that not when the beauty of it is most evident?

I wouldn't need the cross if I could righteously pull myself up by my boot straps. 

I need the cross because I'm not getting it right. I need the blood of Jesus to cover me because otherwise I'm covered in filth. Because I can't muster up the strength to get it right. 

So, maybe my Good Friday service is a lot different than the ones you'll be going to. But his blood is beautiful, needed, and undeserved for me, as much as it is for you.

My Good Friday service is ugly, because my sin is ugly. And I'm full of it. But I also have a perfect sacrifice poured out over me that brings me to the presence of God. If that's not a mystery worth bowing in awe of, there isn't one.

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the Lord has laid on him the iniquity of us all.

Isaiah 53:5-6

Good Shepherd

Our world is busy. People are always rushing to the next thing, filling up every second of their time with some sort of task...work, exercise, meetings, parties, obligations, sports...the list goes on forever. I know this isn't a new concept. People have been talking about how busy we are for years, and I doubt that I will have anything new to say about it.

Except that I hadn't realized I bought into it. Last year, I bounced from thing to thing, running around trying to get everyone's needs and expectations met. Yeah, I was exhausted, but isn't that what a good, American, Christian 20-something is supposed to be? Exhausted is good, right? It means you're really accomplishing something!

It wasn't until everything started shutting down that I realized what I was doing. My body was done...months of lack of sleep with no end in sight takes its toll eventually. My brain was shutting down...everything I thought was doom and gloom, there was no hope for me under the sun. I was emotionally all over the place and my anxiety was out of control. God allowed me to get to the very edge of myself and even let me hang a foot off the side of the cliff. I'm not mad at him for that. I would have gone barreling over if he hadn't let me see the danger I was in.

I was exhausted. In every sense of the word.

So, I quit. I was gently shown by God that I had reached the end of what I could do in my own strength. I was allowed to see how broken I had become by never stopping to assess how the constant motion was causing stress fractures in my heart and soul. Never mind the brokenness that had been there before I had even started. 

I've been healing. Slowly. More slowly than I would like, which is a lesson in and of itself.

The past week I have slipped a little into my old ways though. Running from one thing to the next, every day is full of things to do and accomplish. But this time, I felt like something was just not right.

It wasn't until today that I realized what the issue is. I've been pouring myself out again. Don't get me wrong, there are times for pouring out. I am not currently in one of those times. I healed just enough to feel like I could get back to my busy-ness, and be fine. But the thing that I forgot about being busy is that there is rarely time to be face to face with God. 

I can pour out of myself and end up right back where I was, because I refuse to value the time with him enough to make it a priority.

He is a good shepherd. There was a time to let me wander off and see exactly what my life could look like without him guiding me. But this time, he only let me wander just enough to remember how far away I got last time, and how scary that was. And he has lovingly guided me back to his side, where I'm safe and cared for perfectly. 

He is full of everything we need...he is full of more than we need. We don't need to seek anything else  by filling our lives with busyness. He is calling us to find in him our satisfaction and our fullness. And he is good to give beyond that.

The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want.

He makes me lie down in green pastures.

He leads me beside still waters.

He restores my soul.

He leads me in paths of righteousness

for his name's sake.

Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,

I will fear no evil

for you are with me;

your rod and your staff,

they comfort me.

You prepare a table before me

in the presence of my enemies

you anoint my head with oil

my cup overflows.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

all the days of my life,

and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever.

Psalm 23

Quiet Healing

I've gone quiet, I know. 

For some it may be disconcerting to not hear from me. It might cause concern and wonder. It's ok.

This thing that is happening, these changes...they're subtle. Quiet. There aren't revelations with much fanfare. It seems like a time for silence. Like when you are working hard at something you're not necessarily good at, but you can get it, if you just focus. 

We fall silent when we're working hardest. 

And I'm working very hard. 

There is a pattern of thinking that I have fallen into my whole life. It's a product of the fall...as all things like this are.

I've always been a negative, critical person. Ok, maybe not always but my whole adult life for sure. There is something about life going in the complete opposite direction of your expectations that can cause this. It's kind of like a sickness you can't shake.

It's no good being negative and critical of the people around you. I learned this a while ago and managed to stifle it, keeping those thoughts to myself, for the most part. 

But I didn't think anything about the constant stream of negative thoughts against myself. I thought it was normal to find yourself lacking, to generally not like yourself. These negative, demeaning thoughts have been running in the background of my mind for years. Sometimes louder, sometimes quiet, but always there. Always telling me that I would never, ever be good enough. 

Some of you may know what that's like. Some of you may be appalled.

It's a sinister self-harm...this emotional abuse that you think is normal. The perpetrator and the victim are one and the same, so who is to blame? 

I would still be right there, in my awful circle of hate I created for myself, if it weren't for the work of the Lord through some people who love me deeply and could see what I was doing. And they told me to stop. 

It's almost like I didn't know it was happening until somebody said "hey, don't you see that you're sawing your own arm off? Doesn't that hurt?"

Love your neighbor as yourself, he says. So often we focus on what it means to love our neighbor, taking for granted that we already know how to love ourselves. But some of us don't know how to love ourselves at all. How can I possibly love my neighbor well if I'm abusive to myself?

So, I'm learning. I don't always get it right. But my learning looks like investing in myself. I'm running. (I know, me, running?!) I'm running for me. Because I should take care of myself by pushing myself. I'm sleeping...and what I mean is I'm intentionally making sure that I sleep. Because it's not right for me to run on fumes. My bedtime is guarded now, because I'm important enough for it to be. I'm not pressuring myself to be who I think others think I should be. That sentence is ridiculous, but it's been my reality for a long time. And I'm not doing it anymore. 

There are other things that I'm learning to do. And God is giving me this beautiful quiet space to learn it. It is full of his mercy and grace, this place in time he created for me.

I'm the best I've been in a long time. And that is saying a lot. 

He is so faithful to me. His love for me has never wavered, even when I am full of self-loathing. He looks at me and calls me beautiful, when I feel least worthy of the word. 

If you are caught in a cycle of self-abuse, whatever that looks like...please stop. I know it's hard. But doesn't it hurt? 

He is ready to bind up your wounds and to teach you a new way. It won't be perfect at first, but he is patient. He has your whole life to teach you. It's worth it.

For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them. How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I would count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you.

Psalm 139:13-18

Scale

I am a frequent scale user.

I'm not really talking about the scale to check my weight, although yeah, I use that more than maybe I should.

And I'm not talking about the scales at work, where we gently lift and set down babies. And then do it again when we don't like the number.

No, the scale I use is abstract, but much more dangerous.

I like to call it realism. It sounds better. It doesn't bite so hard, when you call it realism. People can get behind realistic...people don't like words like negative or critical. So, yeah....realistic.

The truth is that this realism comes directly from the fear that resides deep within me. 

I constantly measure and weigh everything in my life. Holding it up to examine it...is it good? Where are the cracks? How can this improve? How will this fail?

Whether it's my own soul, or a friendship, or an actual gift, I am constantly in doubt of it's goodness. Because what if it breaks?

So I get my scale out...on one side I place the good gift I'm given, and on the other side I place what I think it should be, or what I see that others have on facebook, or just something I saw on TV once.

And then I see the scales tip. In a very realistic direction. And I'm disappointed with the gift. Or I see how it can fail and I get so afraid because now it's just a waiting game till it breaks.

I cannot accept good gifts for what they are because I'm so fearful they'll break that I won't pick it up and embrace it.

This verse was made for people like me:

Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him! Matthew 7:9-11

He had to put that in there because of people like me. Because I doubt that God is good, or that he would be good to me, or that the gift is as good as he says it is.

And all that is is a lack of understanding exactly what a good gift the cross is. Because if I understood that, then I would open my arms to whatever he's giving me and call it good and right. I would hand my scales in and let him break them with his unmeasurable goodness.

Despite the fact that I have not understood how to not find his gifts lacking, he continued to pour them out on me. If that's not a good and perfect God, what is? 

He's teaching me. Patiently and slowly, he's teaching me that I can accept his gifts and that he is overwhelmingly good. I don't have to live in this fear.

But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ—by grace you have been saved— and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. 

Ephesians 2:4-9

Freedom

I have lived life cautiously.

I don't know what it is that has caused me to be that way. I have always lived timidly, afraid of failure, disappointment, and disapproval. Always worried about what is "the right thing."

I have lived in constant fear.

And while I have lived so cautiously, never rocking the boat or causing trouble, I have still felt an incredible sense of shame. Shame for who I am, for what I have done, for what I'm not, for what I can never, ever be.

The enemy is so good at paralysis.

I have been paralyzed by my fear of failure. I can't move or breathe because what if someone disapproves of it? I can't relax ever because aren't I standing on the brink of utter failure at every moment? Shouldn't I always have my guard up, just in case someone sees who I really am and doesn't like it?

It's actually really silly when I think about it. It's even sillier when I stop the crazy self-talk and think about how very few people have been disappointed in me. Or at least have told me that they were.

My whole life I have heard about the freedom that exists in Jesus. And even thought that I understand what that is and that I am partaking wholeheartedly in it.

But does freedom look like paralysis?

Just this morning, God so gently has shown me how my thoughts are so enslaving. The thought that I have to be or do or look like in order to be perfect and not fail. He has taken off my shackles and I, without knowing, have been sitting there, right next to where they are, fashioning new shackles.

"Yeah, yeah, God, thanks for taking those off...I got this the rest of the way. Don't worry about it. I can do this."

It is only when I have come to the complete end of my ability and still feel lacking that I can see that he has done all of the things I have so desperately been trying to do for myself. He has been, he has done, he is perfect. It is finished (when will I ever truly believe that it is finished?).

He has covered me over in the perfection of his blood. There's nothing left for me to do to save myself.

So, there is freedom in Jesus - a sweeter freedom to let go of all those things I have striven for, realizing that they're already accomplished. His approval of me is so much more than anything I can receive from people. And he showed his approval in the most holy of ways.

His grace is enough. Even for me.

Pray that I can relax in this grace. Pray that I can bask in this holy freedom that is mine in him. Pray it for yourself, if you have fought for so long and still find yourself lacking. It's real and it's done.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. For the law of the Spirit of life has set you free in Christ Jesus from the law of sin and death. For God has done what the law, weakened by the flesh, could not do. By sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful flesh and for sin, he condemned sin in the flesh, in order that the righteous requirement of the law might be fulfilled in us, who walk not according to the flesh but according to the Spirit.

Romans 8:1-4

Health and Hope

I've not known what to write or how, but I've known something needs to be said. Forgive me if it is not said eloquently.

I have run myself into the ground. So far into the ground that you might not be able to see me for all the dirt around me.

I have busied myself to the point of being unable to even know who I am or what I think. It wasn't intentional. I even thought I was doing the "right thing." Outwardly appearing to have everything together while the inside has been crumbling.

It's the beginning of a new year. Every other blogger in the world is busy naming their new year, reflecting on the past year, resolving to do/be/become better. It's natural and good to have a new, fresh beginning every year.

I don't typically buy into that whole "new year" thing. Resolutions are set ups for disappointment and failure, which I already have plenty of, thank you very much. But God has led me to a new place, quietly. A place of newness, casting off the old, broken self and stepping forward into health. He has chosen this precise time for reasons I don't know. And it coincides with this new year.

I have always thought of myself as a big plate person. There are people who can handle and accomplish much - big plate people. There are people who are barely capable of handling themselves - small plate people. I even took pride in my big plate-ness. I was so capable, so reliable, so very trustworthy to get the job done. I don't know if my plate has shrunk or if I was operating under the big plate mentality while all along possessing a very small plate capability.

It wasn't until depression and anxiety set in with full force that I realized something had to give. I began to feel my sickness because it was forcing me to feel it. It is clear that I do not know how to be healthy. I have worked and worked and worked, never allowing myself Sabbath, never caring for myself because caring for myself seemed selfish. I didn't realize that I can only serve others well when I am healthy myself.

God is calling me into further dependence on him. I never thought it would look like this: stepping down from kids ministry, a bedtime, boundaries - in short, less activity. I guess I thought I would just continue striving forward, trying harder, and it would just get easier. Wrong.

Everything looks and feels like failure. And yet he is supplying hope, gratitude, and maybe even joy in this time of incapability. The more I realize how little I can accomplish, the more I see how he is opening up avenues for health and growth and intimacy with him. He is removing things that I might see his face more clearly.

I have even breathed out thanks for all of my struggles because they are leading me here.

I'm not naming this year. This year holds what it holds, and only he will show me in time what this year is about. This year might look to others like a year of utter failure or unproductive. I'm ok with that.

I'm more hopeful than I have been in a long time. My God is good to allow me to struggle, to feel the weight of my sickness. He is also good to redeem me from it. He is full of mercy and pours out grace upon grace upon grace. He takes the broken girl and declares me healed. Even as I am presently healing.

May I urge you to call on him? I know that's not how I usually end these things...but my heart wants his redemption and comfort for you as much as it longs for my own. I promise that he will be good to answer you. If you are struggling, depressed, anxious, hurting...he is there. Take it from the girl who thought she could bootstrap her way through - you can't. But he can and has made you free from those things, just as he is doing and has done with me.

Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him;

I will protect him, because he knows my name.

When he calls to me, I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble;

I will rescue him and honor him.

With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation.

Psalm 91:14-16

The righteous flourish like the palm tree

and grow like a cedar in Lebanon.

They are planted in the house of the Lord;

they flourish in the courts of our God.

They still bear fruit in old age;

they are ever full of sap and green,

to declare that the Lord is upright;

he is my rock

and there is no unrighteousness in him.

Psalm 92:12-15