Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

The Second Prodigal Son

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We all love the parable of the Prodigal Son, and if you’re like me you’ve seen yourself mirrored in his runaway actions. We take joy at the Father who loves us, despite our sin, and the gratitude for being lost, but then found brings us joy. Who hasn’t sung the words to Amazing Grace and thanked the Lord for once being lost, but finally being found? We see ourselves in this Lost, Prodigal Son, but we rejoice that we now have eyes to see! But my question today is, do we truly see? Do we really? Or are we as lost as the second, prodigal son?

It’s easy to remember the son who strayed in the story, the one who was seeped in sin, but came back begging for his Father’s forgiveness. What we disregard is the second son, who (in regards to) at the end of the parable we’re left open-ended. Did he see what the Father was trying to impart?

In the familiar parable, if you’ll remember, the Father rejoices over his lost son’s return. He gathers for him a ring, the finest of robes, and prepares a wonderful feast. What we might forget is the second son, the brother of the lost, who in is own actions is just as wayward. As we read this parable we see Jesus introducing us to another prodigal, one who we cannot know if he was ever found.

The second son stands outside the banquet feast, sweltering in his anger. When speaking with his father he admits his rage and envy.

Luke 15: 28 “The older brother became angry and refused to go in. So his father went out and pleaded with him. 29 But he answered his father, ‘Look! All these years I’ve been slaving for you and never disobeyed your orders. Yet you never gave me even a young goat so I could celebrate with my friends. 30 But when this son of yours who has squandered your property with prostitutes comes home, you kill the fattened calf for him!’

Upon reading these verses I wondered what Jesus might have been trying to convey, what warning He could offer to us today. I realized that although I had always seen myself as the first son, I had to be careful not to become the second prodigal. The second prodigal was like the church. He was the child who knew his father, and he resided in his home. He wasn’t lost, per se, yet I think he was blind. Even though he lived among his Father, he was blind to his father’s heart. He was blinded by his own pride and selfishness. Do we as believers fall into this trap?

When the lost come to the Father’s house, are we quick to say, “but Dad, look at the way they have sinned against you!”

Do we try and usurp the celebration with our own eyes of judgement? When the Father says love, do we say, “but, Dad?!”

Do we rush out in compassion and open arms like our Father, or do we stand outside arguing why there’s cause for celebration?

Jesus gives us three parables in Luke 15, once again overstating his point, knowing we needed such. He tries to impress the importance of “the one.” The one who is lost, the one who is hurting, the one who needs compassion and a welcoming embrace. Yet, do we, as the second prodigal, get lost on where His heart stands in this matter? Do we instead look at the one as oneself? In other words, do we make everything all about us?

I matter. I didn’t do anything wrong. My sin isn’t as big as his. What about my feelings, my rights, and my opinion on the matter? We miss the Father’s cause for celebration. We miss the Father’s desire to pluck his one son from the pig pen and bring him to the table. We miss our brother is hungry and in rags for clothing. Instead we ask, “what about my goat, or my royal robe?!”

Luke 15: 31 “‘My son,’ the father said, ‘you are always with me, and everything I have is yours. 32 But we had to celebrate and be glad, because this brother of yours was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’”

And that’s the end of it. The final line of the parable. I’m left wondering, did he see his Father’s heart? Did he ever understand why he was just as lost, and just as much of a sinner by begrudging his brother? Will we ever understand the same?

The Father’s heart is pure. He doesn’t say to his son, “how dare you squander my wealth? What makes you think you can come home now?!”

And do you see what he says to the second son?

“All you have is mine.”

As believers, we shouldn’t act as nonbelievers. To think another brother is taking what belongs to us, that is putting a limit on the Father’s infinite riches, and this should not be so. We are lost when we worry our brother is taking what belongs to us. The truth is our Father gives us what we need. We are lost when we point out the sin of our brother. Our Father doesn’t pinpoint ours, but offers forgiveness for all. Remember, Jesus did not come to judge the lost, but to save them. We mustn’t take up the gavel. We are lost when we cannot see the Father’s heart for our brother. The only question is, will we stay lost, fuming outside the banquet, or will we heed the words of our Father and join the celebration?

All our Father has is ours. We shouldn’t fear what might be taken. Our Father’s heart is one of forgiveness, compassion, and love. How can we view our brothers and sisters with anything less?

There was a second Prodigal Son that day, and my hope for humanity would be that he would listen to the voice of his Father, seeing that He gives us all more than enough. The parable leaves us wondering, but my hope is that we the church will write the ending. My hope is that we will join with our brothers and sisters at the Father’s table, not looking at what our brother (who was hurting) has been given, but looking at what we (in our own good gifts) may give back.

We (the Church) Have to Do Better

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Not long ago I had a coworker say to me, “if more people were like you, Brie, I might still go to church.”

Sharing this comment is in no way a tooting of my own horn. I am certainly God’s continuous work in progress, as I’m fond of saying, but what my friend said does lend credit to a problem I’m seeing more and more. It seems like Christians are killing the church. Or rather, religion is thwarting relationship. Either way, it’s a travesty.

Nothing has brought this more to the forefront of my mind than recent events in society. I’ve discovered a whole lot of people who can quote scripture, but not near as many who actually live out scripture. In other words, people can recite, “the greatest commandment is to love the Lord your God with all your heart, and the second to love your neighbor as yourself (Matthew 22:37-39), yet when it comes to walking out this love, we lack.

I have been utterly heartbroken for weeks now, but not about the things you might think. Yes, the violence is devastating and the injustice catastrophic, but it wasn’t the police brutality that broke me. It wasn’t the looting and rioting that made me mad. In the end, the absolute worst thing I’ve seen come out of society after the murder of George Floyd was the response from a large majority of the Christian community.

Even now, as some people read these words, their quills will rise and the claws will come out. They will buck up defensively and begin justifying their behavior without even trying to absorb the rest of my thoughts. It makes me think of my nine year old when I try to lovingly correct her to teach her something I’ve learned the hard way, through trial and effort. She typically gets mad, sullen, and pouts that I would dare say such a meany thing. But she’s nine. I think one of the biggest marks of personal growth is the ability to accept correction, check your heart, and move forward in change as necessary. Sadly, that is also lacking.

Individuals who claim to be children of God have shared some of the cruelest, insensitive posts on social media that I have ever seen. It. Blows. My. Mind. They try to justify their ugliness by saying, “this society has become one that gets offended by everything,” but I don’t think that’s it. I think we are a growing society that realizes change is necessary, that kindness is a good quality, that human worth isn’t based on our opinion. So, you can call it being offended if that helps you sleep at night. I call it being a decent human being. We should all try it sometime.

Somewhere along the way the church has backtracked to pre-Jesus time. The Pharisees are still here, is what I’m saying; they just disguise themselves as followers of Jesus. But to follow Jesus, you have to follow His example. Somehow we missed that part.

We’ve fallen back on the law, forgetting about grace. We’ve appointed ourselves as judges, but the craziest part of that is only some sins are an offense to the law of man. For example, in the court of the church, not all sins are equal. The sins you can keep hidden are okay. Don’t steal, unless it’s cheating on your taxes. After all, the government is run by left leaning liberals who just want to give money to people who don’t want to work! See how we can justify our sins?

You can get a divorce if you don’t love your spouse anymore. You can commit adultery, sexually harass your secretary, or get slobbering drunk each night, but don’t dare enter a homosexual relationship. I know, you’ll argue that you don’t hold one sin higher than the other, but is that really true? Do you post memes about adultery and drunkenness ruining our country? Do you make fun of, whisper about, or treat the divorcee different when they try to walk up and talk to you? Do you bar them from your congregation? Do you ignore the envy in your own heart or carry a haughty spirit with a smile? Why is it that we as a Christian society get to decide what sins get us really worked up, but others we can just give a pass on?

I will pause to say a few things here, because I have to for some folks before they bring it up first. One, I follow the Bible for what is and what isn’t approving in God’s eyes. No denying scripture, ok? This isn’t about defining sin; it’s about rating sin. In this instance I’m referring to the fact that some churches, areas of the country, or groups of Christians feel it’s their responsibility to place sin on a scale of one to ten. I don’t think that’s necessary, and it’s certainly not impacting the world in a positive way.

Two, I am using the term “church” in this post, and I don’t want that to be taken in a derogatory sense. It’s like I tell my children, “if I’m not talking about you, then it’s not about you.” Read that again, please. In other words, I love the church in a sense of believers gathering to help one another grow and mature in Christ. I personally love my church. I do not approve of the “church” when it tries to take the role of God, and in essence pushes people away from the Lord.

Three, I have to say this now because I am about to go into the subject. I am pro-life. This is a big deal to me. Huge. I find sanctity of life hugely important. It’s top priority. My problem comes with other people who oppose abortion like me, but treat other human beings like they are not worthy of life. All human interaction should be about sanctity of life, but for some reason, it’s not.

Hey, I’ve been guilty. I have based my political vote on the issue of abortion, letting that stance sway my vote, but I can see now that life as a Christian isn’t that easy. I thought with an issue like abortion, the choice is black or white (something I still believe), but if I’m using that one gauge to test my candidate, I’m missing the fact that he/she may not value the life of minorities, immigrants, or women. That makes sanctity of life a gray issue, sadly, and we have to ask ourselves what Jesus would do. I’ve heard people say that a politician doesn’t have to be a good person, but just good at their role. I think of my nursing job. If I was rude and did not have compassion for my patients, but I had great clinical skills, would folks still say I was a good nurse?

Another consideration, you will never change anyone’s heart by pointing out their sin when you first meet. In other words, unless you’ve developed a relationship with someone, you cannot get them to see what you think you can so clearly see. In scripture Jesus didn’t go up to prostitutes and tell them to quit being a ho. He sat down to dinner with them. I hear a lot the reciting of the part of the verse where Jesus says to the adulterous woman, “go and sin no more.” People use this as an excuse for their behavior when calling out the sins of strangers, as if the stranger’s sin is worse than their own. You know, because they miss the whole beginning part of the verse about needing to be sinless before you throw a stone. But let’s just let that part go for the benefit of the doubt. Let’s say it’s ok for the sinful to throw stones at the more sinful. Looking back at Jesus, He didn’t just walk up to someone on Facebook and say, “don’t sin anymore.” Y’all, He had just saved her life. He stood up for her, putting His own reputation and life at risk. He formed a relationship with her in these actions, and that’s why she listened when He encouraged her to leave her life of sin.

Followers of Jesus, back in His day, changed their life because of their love for Him. He didn’t demand it of them. He didn’t try to scare or guilt them into it. He loved them into it. He was honest, but loving. And that’s mostly the way life should work now. The hypocritical, religious will try and beat sinners with their Bibles. As a sinner, I know. In my past, sinful life of drunkenness and promiscuity, I had some horrible things said to me by so-called Christians. It is only the immense love of God that drew me in despite their behavior. I look at how we’ve treated the black community, founding our country on laws that made it okay to treat them less, and I know it was the Lord’s great love that called them into His arms. Certainly not the example of early, White Christianity.

In times when people are hurting, the church should be the first to say, “I’m sorry this hurts you. What can I do?”

Instead we’re too busy grumbling about pancake syrup.

In times when people are a slave to sin, the church should be the one asking them over for dinner, not throwing bricks. Yes, bricks, not small stones.

What we shouldn’t be doing is justifying bad behavior. We shouldn’t be saying things like, “you won’t be discriminated against if you can just be like me.”

We can’t make excuses for why someone was murdered. We can’t act like we know what the walk is like in someone else’s shoes. We shouldn’t take personal offense at another human being demanding they be treated as a human being. We should humble ourselves to try and see the point of view of another, rather than simply digging stubborn heels into the ground.

We shouldn’t make a mockery of another’s pain. Even what you consider the funniest joke, is in poor taste when it hurts another. We shouldn’t be placing blame on political parties or media manipulation (even though I do believe those exist) as a reason to gloss over certain sins, like racism. Diverting blame doesn’t erase injustice. Not talking about something doesn’t make it go away. That’s why a whole generation of children who were sexually abused by the “church” (I use that term loosely) are still trying to put together the pieces. But that’s a blog for another day.

Do you know why my coworker said what she did? She has witnessed hypocrisy. Religious people calling out other’s sawdust of sin before addressing their own plank. She’s seen the cruel hatred and bigotry, and this comment was before 2020 had even begun. Sadly, the Christian church has a long history of murdering and silencing people in the name of Jesus. I can’t imagine the pain He must have over what we have done, but even more so, what we continue to do.

Jesus gave us in great detail the instructions for carrying on His church, a church much different from the religious sect that preceded it. The problem is, although hard to belief, a large part of the church doesn’t read the instruction manual. I mean, they go to a church building on Sunday, but they have no clue that the church should also reside in them. They go by how they’ve been raised, or what they’ve always been taught, yet they’re resistant to allow the Holy Spirit to speak His truth. In fact, I think they’ve forgotten about the Holy Spirit all together.

In this life, as a Christian, we must walk in Spirit and in truth. The truth is found in His Word, the Bible, and you obtain His truth by reading, studying, and meditating on scripture. His Holy Spirit will speak if we confess our own sins and ask for His clarity and wisdom. There’s nothing wrong with asking the Lord to shed light on a situation for you. He can speak to us all. In John 16 Jesus told us “when he comes, the Spirit of truth, he will guide you into all the truth.” Y’all, it’s time we let him guide us into all the truth.

I believe there is a terrible Spirit of Religion that oppresses a large portion of the Christian church, and it is binding us from loving our neighbor as Christ instructed. It tells us to condemn the sinner, not the sin. It places self worth or a person’s identity on the sin we may see, rather than the fact that even sinners are children of God, and in fact, we are all sinners, the whole lot. It’s not our job to cast stones or pass judgement, but it is our job to show the lost Jesus in us. It’s not our job to treat others less, but it is our job to treat them as we would wish to be treated. It isn’t our job to search for sin in others, but it is our job to confess our own. It is our duty to bear the fruit of the Spirit ( love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control), something that has all but disappeared on many “Christian’s” Facebook timelines.

Do the words you speak bring life? Are you taking offense at every turn? Are you seeing life with a Kingdom mindset? Ask, how does this have an impact on eternity? How do my actions have an impact on the eternity of others? Ouch. Are your actions leading people to Jesus, or are they just showing them your opinion (that really only matters this side of eternity)? Do you desire to see those who disagree with you in Heaven, or do you just want to prove that you’re right? When did we get the idea it’s up to us to fix folks, rather than setting the example and letting God do the hard, heart changes?

Matthew 5: 38-48 You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’ But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well. If anyone forces you to go one mile, go with them two miles. Give to the one who asks you, and do not turn away from the one who wants to borrow from you. You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous. If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that? And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that? Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.

I know that’s asking a lot of us, but no one every said this walk would be easy. I included the above verses because although all humanity should follow this example, they do not. But if you claim the title of Christian, then it is your duty to follow it. We cannot focus on what others do or don’t do, but we can focus on our own actions.

I don’t have life all figured out and I fail daily, but I do have a heart that desires to be like Jesus. I do desire to follow His example. My point in writing this post isn’t to condemn fellow believers in Jesus, but to submit to you that we all can follow Him better than we do. We can all fish for men rather than pushing them away from the boat. Christianity comes with a lofty heritage (since we like that word so much), and we should strive to live up to the name and example of Christ. I’m willing to work on it, and I pray you will be too.

You’ve Heard the Thunder. Now Watch For the Lightning.

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This morning a summer storm came quickly to our neighborhood, and as I looked out the large, living room window at the dark clouds in the distance, a bolt of lightning touched down.

“Look girls,” I said to my young daughters. “Lightning!”

It was magnificent to me, and I continued to explain to my girls, “do you hear the thunder? Just wait a few beats, then you’ll see the lightning.”

As I said those words I felt the Spirit of God strongly. I’ve discovered over the years that when the Lord brings something to my mind and I speak it, He will kinda punch my spirit when He wants me to pay special attention. That’s the only way I know to describe it. All I know is my thoughts halt, and my brain and heart understand that the thought or words I may have spoken were impressed to me through the Lord.

Naturally, I asked God, “ok, Lord. What are you trying to tell me through this thunder and lightning out there?”

You have heard the thunder.

In a storm, like the one we watched this morning, thunder and lightning happen at approximately the same time, but as many of you know, lightning travels faster than thunder (even though it is moving at supersonic speeds) and thus we see the flash before we hear the thunder. The thing is, my daughters had previously missed the lightning, the display of His glory, yet they had been unable to miss the roar of His thunder. It had cried out for their attention, and now they only had to look away from the distraction of their tablets to see the magnificent light.

Thunder roars, and although God most often speaks through a whisper, desiring hearts that press in close and listen, sometimes He speaks in a roar. This world we are living in has always been noisy and distracting, but it seems to me that God had decided to use His Big Poppa voice to get our attention. We have not been listening, as a whole, so this year I think He decided to pull out all the stops and speak with the kind of authority even the deaf can hear.

He has roared with an unprecedented crash, as pandemic reared its ugly head. He has allowed sickness to shake the atmosphere, and in His mercy brought healing too.

He has roared the difficulty of the ensuing social isolation and financial loss, yet shown His grace through the silver linings of time together with family, the generosity of others, the giving spirit of mankind, the power of prayer when Saints unite.

I have seen His gifts emerge in me, and the roar of His Spirit speaking to my heart, even as the world seemed to fall apart around me at the seams.

We have seen the roar of an angry God, who seeks justice for all His children. We’ve seen the evil of the enemy using mankind to bring death, and we’ve seen our God manage to use it for good. We’ve seen Him bring out the roar in His children, bringing courage, conviction, clarity, and a determination to stand for what is right.

He has roared that enough is enough, and He has heard the cries of the afflicted.

You have heard the thunder. Now watch for the lightning.

The lighting will always accompany the thunder. The lightning is the power. It is the electrifying force that can bring fire to a dead, dry tree, but I think in this instance it wants to bring fire to dry bones. Arise, dry bones, and come to life!

I continued to think about this force. How do we prepare for lightning? Well, we usually take shelter, and I think the Lord is calling us like never before to find our purpose and meaning in the shelter of His wings. There, even when the enemy comes against us, we will be saved.

Then I thought of Benjamin Franklin. Do you remember in elementary school seeing the image of Benjamin Franklin flying a kite in a lightning storm? People probably thought he was crazy, but he understood that he needed to utilize the power above him. He knew he needed to harness that power, and in doing so, he could bring light to the darkness. In all reality, Ben Franklin didn’t invent electricity with his actions, but he did demonstrate the connection between lightning and electricity. I think we as a people need a reminder that the power above is what truly brings us light, no matter what your power bill may say.

The point is, we must be prepared to hold up our lightning rods, to direct the power of God towards the earth, and bring some much-needed illumination. We find ourselves in the middle of a storm in this country right now, but it is up to us how we will proceed. We have heard the roar of thunder, but now will we have eyes to see the lightning?

How can God use you? Right here, right now, in the middle of the torrential downpour in this country? Will you stand for truth, justice, and the heart of God? Will you raise your hands in surrender, saying, “God, I haven’t always gotten everything right, but I’m ready to be used by you!”

As believers in Jesus, we are a house on a hill, and our light can no longer be hidden in the safety of our storm cellars. We have to rise and watch for the lightning. We must open our eyes to His power and Spirit, and be ready to conduct that to everyone we encounter.

The Word says that by their fruit you will know them, and the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. I think many of us, myself included, if we took an inventory of our actions, would see that our fruit has been lacking.

I don’t think it’s too late, though. I think that the Lord has sent His thunder to grab our attention. It’s been distracted by the world for far too long. We have all heard the thunder this year, but now it is up to us to watch for His lightning. He is sending His power to those who ask, and He is ready to use that power to impact the world in a positive way. Will we be beacons of the light He gives, or will we hide it under a basket?

In the end, the choice is ours. Who will we serve in the storms of life? A time is coming to choose darkness or light, and thankfully the Lord is calling to us with a roar. Don’t ignore the call.

Could I Trust You Not to Murder My Black Son?

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I have been appalled by the far too frequent news reports and shocking videos of blatant murder of innocent black men by white men. And even as I typed those last five words, “black men by white men,” I cringed. I didn’t want to type the transparent truth, because in doing so I admit the ugliness of the race I share, but the time for sweeping under the rug or hiding your head in a hole has passed. I think I used to tell myself, I’m not racist, therefore I’m good, despite the atrocities abounding. But I believe God is bringing the obvious evil to the forefront as of late so we can all make the change. Not just pass it off to those we feel are responsible. That’s not what God is calling us to do.

In wanting to bring light to an ever present problem I knew I must use my platform to speak, but I didn’t want to just make some flowery post on Facebook, that while it got a few hundred “likes,” did about as much for the issue as the same digital, blue thumbs could do. I wanted God’s heart for me personally on this issue, and I prayed to Him for what I should say.

Immediately after asking I felt the Lord say, “think about this like a mother would.”

As far as mothering goes, I had experienced an exhausting week. My eldest child had unexpectedly experienced a grand mal (tonic-clonic) seizure. She had been hospitalized, gone through all the testing, been diagnosed with epilepsy, and placed on maintenance medication. We were now going through the aftermath of medication side effects, and the worst part, me trying not to worry to death for her. That’s what moms did, though. We worried about our babies.

At the Lord’s prompting I tried to imagine how I would respond to recent events in a motherly sense. If my child wasn’t the pale, Caucasian young woman she was, how would that change things for me? Could I trust all my social media contacts not to murder my black son if I had one?

Although I’m a Floridian now, living in a multicultural melting pot, I was most recently raised in Mississippi. There are a lot of good people in the South, who love their neighbor like themself, but there also still exists a prevalent attitude of racism. We want to think it’s not an issue anymore, like, since it no longer resembles the film Mississippi Burning, or the plantation isn’t worked by slaves, that a long-held stigma has been erased. It hasn’t.

Even though I was raised by a woman who had traveled the world, teaching me the color of a man’s skin didn’t define him, I was impacted by the small minds around me. It didn’t matter my very first friend had been named Tanisha, or that my Dad has bucked the system of his family’s belief. My father had been in the army, standing in battle with men of every color, who would lay down their life for his. If that doesn’t change your mindset, not much else will. Their support enabled me to go out with a black guy in high school, but my own regrettable fear of ridicule caused me to break it off.

I can still remember the gruff voice of a stranger on the phone the day following my date, “are you dating a nigger?!”

But even my personal brushes with racism hold little water when compared to the gravity of living in the midst of it. I may think I’ve experienced racism in my life, and could share a handful of stories like the one above, but in reality I have no clue. I don’t know personally what it’s like to be the target of hate simply because of the color of my skin.

I can sympathize related to still existing racism I’ve seen in the South, but in the end I can’t empathize; I can’t even imagine. I cannot understand the fact that even though I’m an intelligent, well-spoken, college-educated, professional, that I could be murdered despite all those things if my skin was any color but white. I mean, the idea is ludicrous, am I right?! And those of us privileged enough to think it doesn’t happen that way, are even being shown that it does. I suppose if there’s anything that the enemy has meant for evil, that God can use for good, it’s the evidence and awareness that racism is real, that it still exists, and that it can kill.

So, this morning, while I had the privilege of only being able to imagine, I did make the conscious effort to imagine. To imagine what it must be like to be the mother of a black child. I have just experienced the stress of illness in my daughter, and I found that difficult. I was pushing away thoughts that they put her on the same anti seizure medicine my mother had been on. My mother, who died of a seizure in her sleep. I had what I considered to be a sizable amount of faith in Jesus, but worries for the life of my baby, those thoughts rocked my soul. Imagine if every time your child left the house you had to worry about the chance of them being murdered? Not because of anything they had done wrong, but just because of the assumption they had or would based on how much melanin their skin contained.

I will confess ignorance. In the past I have said things were better. I’ve stood safely in my white skin and said it’s not that bad. I’ve tried to relate, even, stating all the ways I had been judged on outward appearance. Not that my inconveniences could even compare to fear of death, but in my self-centered, narrow vision, I was sure it did. But the thing is, as God brings to light the evil of man and the injustice out there, we can’t claim ignorance any longer. As we see the blatant disregard for human life, especially aimed at men of color, it’s an affront to anyone with eyes to claim racism doesn’t exist. To claim anything other than the fact it does, is an exercise in denial to the worst degree.

I hate that racism is real. It was easier to tell myself incidents were few and far between, but pretending we live in a better world just doesn’t make it so. Times are changing, and God is bringing light to the evils of mankind. Our job as Christians is to see what He is bringing to light. It’s to admit we see it, and not hide our heads in the sand. Our task as followers of Jesus is to stand firm and speak up for those who are persecuted. It’s to call out injustice and evildoers. It’s to help carry the burden. Your friends of color have been carrying it on their own for far too long.

Galatians 6:2 Bear one another’s burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.

I would encourage you to stop and consider your life. Consider how it would change if your skin was a different color. Imagine your life as a mother, or a father. How would it change if you realized being pulled over for a traffic violation could get your child shot? Or even jogging down the road could end tragically. What if the talk you gave your teenager wasn’t just about the birds and the bees, but about the utmost importance of respecting authority figures who carried guns?

We often argue when injustice comes to light, thinking if we can put the center point on cops or guns that it will shift the focus. We say police aren’t bad, or that gun laws need to be reformed. But these are just distractions from the truth. In my opinion, there are a lot of good police! My white cousin was murdered by bad cops, but I still say the majority of police are fair and upright. But we’re not talking about police lives, or the fact that they also matter. We won’t lessen any brother or sister by distracting from their life. To say racism is real, and to say someone shouldn’t be treated differently based on the color of their skin, isn’t to say one kind of people deserve better treatment. I think they just want equal treatment, and I don’t think that’s too much to ask.

I would like to think we’re finally headed in the right direction. Eyes are being opened and heads are coming out of the sand. You can’t deny something any longer that blares itself outside the shadows, yet sadly, people still do. It’s up to us, the followers of Christ, to stand and speak out against evil. It must be held accountable, and no longer be allowed to hide. True change doesn’t happen on Facebook, or even at the hands of a well-thought blog post. It comes by the hands and feet of people everywhere. It starts in the hearts of every man and woman. We must admit there’s a problem, then work to resolve that issue in our own thoughts and feelings. To personally place ourselves in the shoes of another. Change continues as we impress that heart change to our children, and to everyone in our home. Change prevails when we carry that heart of Christ into our communities, onto our job sites, and into our every conversation and interaction.

It comes down to me to be a sanctity of life issue. All life is precious to our Lord, and our job is to see our fellow man as He does. It’s not a goal to not see color, but rather to see each color as precious, equal, and designed precisely, uniquely, and with a great purpose by God. Who are we to thwart what He has created? And who are we to ignore the attacks of Satan to divide and destroy mankind?

Interceding for Our World: Part II

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If you missed part one, I’ll include the link here. I have continued to pray in the Spirit, by God’s leading, for things I don’t even know until I pray. It’s come to my attention that some brothers and sisters are praying along with me, so I wanted to catch you up on my prayer time. I guess you could call this a prayer log.

4/2/20 Prayers in the Spirit

I saw a massive crowd of people. They were on their knees bowing in surrender and worshipping the Lord. They were of one voice, one Spirit, one heart, joined in one purpose, to exalt the King. They worship in sync and in joy. Their hearts joined powerfully in the Spiritual Realm giving power to the One. I saw His Spirit come down on His people, like the day of Pentecost. Nations of believers joined for one purpose, in Spirit and truth, loving the King.

4/3/20

This morning was a little painful and emotional as I felt like I was interceding for the fallen world as a whole, again. As if I stood in the gap pleading for mercy. A world that deserves fire and damnation, yet children who cry out to the Father for His love. Isn’t that what we’re all missing? I had heard a song this morning with the lyrics singing, “a second chance is Heaven’s heart,” and that was my heart this morning. It’s also the heart of the Father.

John 3:17 For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. I cling to the truth of His word, and I sing the banner of His loving mercy over our land.

4/4/20

While praying this morning I felt like it was in a Spirit of worship. I was worshipping an unchanging God. One whose word stands forever. A Father who is the same today, yesterday, and forever. His love is constant. We are the ones who waver. As I prayed I saw a grassy plain, and rippling over it a banner (perhaps similar to images you’ve seen of a waving American flag), but instead of Stars and Stripes, it was a rainbow banner. The color of God’s covenant. Although originally a covenant to not destroy by flood, I felt the covenant still stood. That our God would not destroy us from the earth. His banner, His unchanging covenant, covers us today.

4/6/20

I see reports of grim circumstances coming our way as a country, death numbers exceeding what has come thus far, tragedy to compare to the worst disasters we, or our grandparents have ever seen. I’m not surprised now for the prayers I prayed today.

Today in prayer I proclaimed our God as the solid rock. Unwavering, unmovable, a strong foundation upon which we could stand as we tried to climb out of the pit of despair. I pictured a man climbing a mountain. The mountain was God, and as long as the climber found firm footing on that solid rock beneath him, he did not fall.

I saw a vineyard, and the Lord said, “become grafted into me. Become part of my vine, and I will nourish you. My strong roots will feed you, giving you everything you need to bear fruit.”

Later I took a bicycle ride, and I prayed some more. I could feel Him in the breeze in my hair. I could feel His love in the sun that warmed my arms. He was everywhere. He is everywhere. He is the only thing that is sure right now.

I don’t know about projections. I mean, I have my opinions, and I have felt for some time that this will not be like man predicts. The breath of God in Hebrew is Ruach, and my husband and I believe His Ruach will blow across the land taking the virus with it. We could be wrong, but I don’t have to know. I don’t have to make predictions or projections because I serve the King of the Universe, and He is the rock on which I stand. If I were to die today, I would still live. What can trump that?

I guess I’m trying to say, don’t focus on the noise of the world. Focus instead on the rock.

4/7/20

Today I felt as if my prayers were a sonnet, a romantic song serenading the lover of my soul.

I saw a couple dancing, spinning, laughing, heads thrown back in abandon and joy.

“My love for you,” the Lord said, “it cannot be fathomed.”

It’s a love like no other, a love that cannot be compared. It’s a love free for the taking, yet a love that gives and gives. It’s a love that separation cannot even defeat. You see, sin tried to separate us from His love, but He wasn’t having it. He gave of Himself, His own son, His own life, a ransom, paid in full for His bride.

For me.

For you.

This is a love that isn’t swayed by disease, poverty, or uncertainty. If you can call out to this love, and ask Him to bring you an understanding of it, you will laugh in the face of a current world that’s gone mad. You can rest in the peace of His love, you can walk through each day bravely in the shelter of His love, and you can hope for the future in the illuminating light of His love. Nothing can separate us from it.

Romans 8:38-39 (NIV)

38 For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons,[a] neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, 39 neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

As I prayed I said, “oh, Lord, let the earth, let them all know this kind of love!!”

And He answered, “that is what I’m doing.”

I hope you will join me in this frequent intercession, and together we can worship a very good Father who knows our every need. May we, the Saints, link spiritual arms, and hold spiritual hands to pray for our planet, to pray for the souls therein, and to pray for God’s will here on earth, as it is in heaven.

The Only Love That Makes Sense

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I was listening to the radio this morning on the way to work, and as the singer’s lyrics rang out, I chuckled to myself at how true his words were.

He had sang, “it’s the kind of love that doesn’t make sense.”

And it certainly didn’t make sense how emotional I had been just twenty minutes before when listening to another song. A love song. My commute had started with a song about surrender, about handing my life to God so that He could make it into something beautiful. As I drove down the dark, deserted portion of turnpike, I had raised one hand in the air in agreement, and the act, thought, whatever, as the words poured through the speaker and into my heart, had caused me to weep uncontrollably.

Such love. That was what brought me to tears. Such peace at having my Heavenly Father direct my steps. That’s what had caused my emotional outpouring. I couldn’t help but bawl at such a wonderful love, and the fact that this relationship alone could rock me so severely made no sense, from a worldly point of you. I mean, I adored my children more than the air I breathed, but it took an intense event surrounding their lives to make my eyes leak at the corner. And I loved my husband more than words could express, yet even my immense affection for him did not impact me like the love of my Savior did. When I opened myself to the fact of what Jesus had done for me over 2,000 years ago, but also what He continues to do each and every day, I. Was. Wrecked. A total blubber-mess of gratitude and joy.

Sadly, I knew that for many people my response to thoughts of love for the Lord didn’t make sense, but as a woman who had suffered through the anxiety of trying to do life on my own, or the frustration of desperately seeking acceptance elsewhere, it made perfect sense. In fact, it was the only love that made any sense!

My husband is a wonderful husband, but the best thing I ever did for our marriage was understand that he couldn’t be my personal Mr. Fixit. He couldn’t save me, heal me, or love me perfectly. He just couldn’t. Human hearts are built longing for a perfect love, and the only surefire cure for the human condition is Jesus.

Spouses will let you down, friends will fail you. Children will frustrate you, and even your best pal will hurt your feelings. People will judge your performance, and they’ll falsely base your personal worth on what you do or the mistakes you make. These are the kind of common actions that create phrases like “love hurts,” but in all reality it’s the world that hurts. It’s sin that hurts. Love, in essence, in its purest form, the fact that God is love, this kind of love will never hurt us. Our running from it will hurt us, but there’s healing, total and complete, in surrendering to the perfect love we were created to enjoy.

The bottom line is that anything we pursue in this life, be it person or substance, to fill the void in our soul, it will fall short. It will be like the love you have for tacos. It’s pretty awesome, but it won’t save a life or build a future. Not even the best tacos. My spouse is the bee’s knees, but I don’t put the weight of perfection or filling my soul on his shoulders. He would collapse, and I’d end up dissatisfied. But, when I can realize that by falling fully for the only love that makes sense (the love of Christ), I am more able to healthily and happily invest in my other relationships. I can share that perfect love with them, and together we can all be content.

The Lord Loves Chicken

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The Lord loves chicken, but more than that, He loves people. I was reminded once again how religion stifles that love and how we, as the church, can point out the sawdust in someone’s eye better than anyone. A recent story emerged in the media, and like the good, obedient children we are, we slurped up what the angry masses were serving.

How dare Chick-fil-A back down from their Godly principles and give in to the masses for the sake of money?!

If you missed the hoopla on social media, it seems the popular chicken chain stopped supporting Christian charities. Specifically, it had ceased support of two particular charities with a history of opposing same-sex marriages. So sayeth the media. Articles erupted detailing how the restaurant would no longer be donating to charities that stood in opposition to the LGBTQ community, and we all know how our favorite fast food joint had received flack in the recent past from the Left due to their support of “anti-gay charities.” Had Chick-fil-A finally caved?! Well, that seemed to be the religious sect’s stance. Even politicians came out of the woodwork with their opinions.

Never mind that people are dying of hunger or children as young as eight are being sex trafficked. Let’s focus our energy on fast food politics.

Personally, I first heard this announcement on a news channel in my patient’s hospital room over the weekend. Such an important news story, it seemed. When will we open our eyes to the division the media promotes?

My first thought (as a Southern, Christian Woman who loves Jesus), “oh, I get it. They want to show love without bias. Makes sense.”

Like, I never even thought, oh my gosh. I can’t believe they’re backing down from their convictions! The world is going to Hell in a hand basket!

No, I didn’t see this as a backing down move. I just saw it as a sign of love. I’m reminded of another unpopular opinion I hold as a Southern woman. As a Mississippi native, I am in favor of replacing the state flag of Mississippi. Forever it’s been the Confederate flag, and the majority of my peers from our state desire to hold on to it for reasons of “standing true to their Southern Heritage.” And while I’m all for pride in heritage, moreover I’m all for loving people. If something I “stand for” hurts a large group of people (such as the African American community) then I will lay down my pride in favor of love. Is that so crazy?!

But this post isn’t about flags, rather it’s about our innate ability to become offended about anything. It turns out it wasn’t even like the media made it sound. Chick-fil-A didn’t suddenly withdraw their financial support to appease protestors, but rather restructured their giving when the contractual obligation came due to renew. I mean, I’ve given to Christian radio stations in the past, but as God led me to different areas of giving, I’ve rerouted my funds to say the homeless and shelters for those who have been sex trafficked. Does that mean I no longer stand for Christian music? Of course not.

But even if it was a thing (and not just a media fabrication to cause division among the church), what would be so wrong with a Christian influencer within the community, such as Chick-fil-A deciding it wanted to remove itself from a controversy that made it appear judgmental and uncaring.

You might remember a story from around 2,000 years ago. It seems that this radical lover was causing quite a stir for his association with prostitutes and thieves. You might recall reading about it.

Matthew 9:10-13 (NIV)

10 While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew’s house, many tax collectors and sinners came and ate with him and his disciples. 11 When the Pharisees saw this, they asked his disciples, “Why does your teacher eat with tax collectors and sinners?”

12 On hearing this, Jesus said, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. 13 But go and learn what this means: ‘I desire mercy, not sacrifice.’[a] For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

This was my first thought when I heard the story about Chick-fil-A. I didn’t assume they had laid down their guns out of fear or for monetary gain, but rather to break bread (and chicken nuggets, if you will) with everyone who would come to the table. Once there, you can’t help but notice the friendly staff, the faithful favor of God in the business, or that amazing sauce. After all, it’s at the table where Jesus gave of Himself to those around Him, and we as Christians will never be able to pass along His love if we’re making restrictions for the dining hall.

Jesus said, “come to me, all who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest (Matthew 11:28).

What He didn’t say was, ‘come to me, everybody, but only if you’ve read my laws and are abiding by them completely! Then we can talk.’

If that were the case, I don’t think any of us could come over for dinner. Just saying. You invite folks over; God will take care of the rest.

Listen, I’m all about the Bible. I’m all for calling a sin a sin, and I’m all about standing firm in my convictions. The problem that occurs is we get so caught up in “the law” and pointing out wrong from right that we neglect the awesomeness of grace. We forget that we’re all sinners, unworthy of the gift we’ve been given, but thankfully saved by His great grace. Yet instead of paying forward that mercy that was given us, we pull out the judge’s gavel.

Do y’all remember that parable Jesus told about the master who forgave the huge debt his worker owed him? If not, allow me to summarize. This dude’s debt was totally forgiven, wiped clean and let go. Awesome, right? Well, this same fella comes across a worker of his own who owes him some change, and instead of passing along the grace he was given, he demands repayment. So when the big boss finds out, he locks up the first fella for not forgiving as he was forgiven.

Do you see where this is going?

It’s all good to stand for what you believe, but if you throw stones to do it, what does that say about you? If you can’t open up your table to the folks who are the most hungry, what kind of servant are you?

Don’t let the enemy succeed in separating the children of God. Don’t fall into the trap of the religious Pharisees. Don’t condemn a man with sawdust in his eyes; you’re missing the plank in your own.

The Lord loves chicken, I’m certain He does, but more-so I know for a fact that He loves people. If what we’re doing doesn’t reflect that, then maybe it’s time to change the recipe.

Can Christians Get Offended?

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I can remember when I first started travel nursing that the first thing people noticed about me was my thick, Southern drawl. Heck, even now it’s the way people will differentiate me from others. If I’m not known as the “singing nurse,” then I’m described as the one with a Southern accent. I’ve been called Reba, and if I had a dollar for every person that tried to do an impression of my country twang I could have retired last week.

Yeah, people are not as good at impersonations as they assume, but I’m sure many a Brit would raise an eyebrow at my Monty Python impressions, so I can’t say a word. The thing is, though, if I’m being totally honest, it’s not near as amusing as people assume. Repeating a word I’ve said in your own impression of my pronunciation as you laugh hysterically isn’t funny to me. In fact, it’s eye roll worthy as I fake laugh along. But even now, as I bristle at the harmless prodding at my expense, I don’t react like I used to.

I used to be terribly offended. See, I was born in San Diego, California by a world-traveling mom, and we only moved to Mississippi to settle down when I was about eight. I could have quickly adapted the accent of my local peers, but a part was always held back by my mother’s suggestion. She raised me to enunciate my words, to use a vast vocabulary, and to make a point to sound as educated as possible. She fought hard to ward off her own Southern drawl as it crept into everyday vernacular, as her experience had impressed one, huge thing upon her.

A Southern accent=stupidity

That was the majority assumption, anyway.

This was what she had experienced. It was what traveling the world had taught her. And as such, she raised me to understand the same. When I began my own world travels so many of the things I encountered nailed home her point. In Naval Bootcamp I achieved the highest scholastic scores among my peers, earning my parents a special seat next to the Chief Officer of the base during my graduation, and allowing me to march at that ceremony in a special company. As we practiced the drill we would execute at our graduation a senior enlisted gentleman commented on my upbringing.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“Mississippi, Petty Officer,” I replied quickly.

“Well,” he commented in surprise and sarcasm, “I didn’t know they made smart people in Mississippi.”

While I served in the Navy in the Washington, D.C. area I was on the receiving end of reverse racism, with people assuming that since I was from the South, I was automatically a bigot. My mother had hated this aspect the most. She had told me once that people saw movies like Mississippi Burning, and they assumed everyone from that area wanted to wear white hoods and hang black people. In my experience, I even had someone report me to my boss. I had been singing a country love song that came into my head about a man who committed suicide when his girlfriend left him (hey, I didn’t say country songs were known for their great lyrics). The guy in the song hung himself in grief, and the secretary who heard me singing reported to our superior that she feared for her life when she was around me. Because of the accent, where I was from, she assumed my song was something about hanging black people, even though the lyrics never said something even close to that.

This is turning out to be a bit longer than I intended, but I guess I want you to understand why it offended me so much when people poked fun at my Southern accent. In a way, I felt discriminated against for my accent. In my experience, people assumed I was ignorant, racist, uneducated, and the like. My upbringing and my own negative experiences had caused me to be easily offended when my accent was brought to the forefront. I think we all have really good reasons we get offended about things.

As a nurse I’ve gotten offended when a patient is rude. I mean, do they know the responsibilities I handle with limited time and resources? Why are they being angry at me? It’s not my fault they’re sick! I’m just here to help! I don’t deserve such anger aimed at me like an arrow for trying to help!

As a customer I’ve gotten offended. They’re here to serve me. What’s with the attitude?! They must hate their job!

I get offended on the interstate when people cut me off in traffic. I’m going five miles above the speed limit here, buddy!

I can get offended when my husband doesn’t read my mind like a good spouse is supposed to. Doesn’t he know I don’t really mean I’m fine?!

I can especially get offended when people don’t agree with me. As a writer I put out a lot of opinion posts, and not everyone agrees. I’ve had people say some pretty heinous things to me via comments or email. I’ve had people tell me that they feel sorry for my children being raised by me, such an awful person. I’m leaving out the graphic language, mind you. Sometimes I’m so certain that what I’m speaking is truth; I’d bet my life on it! Yet people disagree, and they tell me so quite strongly.

I’ve had close friends and family say or do despicable things to me that have hurt me so badly. I mean, when someone cuts you to the bone, isn’t that a legitimate cause of offense?

See, I’m not saying I don’t have reason to be offended. I’m not saying you don’t. Can Christians be offended? Of course they can! I suppose the better question would be… should they get offended?

Matthew 5:38-40

38 “You have heard that it was said, ‘Eye for eye, and tooth for tooth.’[a] 39 But I tell you, do not resist an evil person. If anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to them the other cheek also. 40 And if anyone wants to sue you and take your shirt, hand over your coat as well.

An interesting thing happened as I began to dive deeper into my walk with Jesus. As I began to read God’s Word more and more, I found myself taking on the pages. I mean, I began to act more like scriptures said I should. It wasn’t like I was trying to follow some religious teaching or law. It’s just that the more time I spent reading about Jesus, the more I loved Him. And the more I loved Him, the more I wanted to be like Him. I wanted to see with His eyes and love with His heart. I wanted to be a servant, not selfish. I wanted to encourage people, and help them to see their worth in Christ.

When a patient was undeservingly rude to me, I laid down offense, and instead I asked myself to imagine how hard it must be to be the sick person in that bed. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t my fault, or even if it was theirs. It didn’t matter that I was trying to help, or that I didn’t deserve a cussing. Why would it?

See, we get offended a lot because of bad treatment we don’t deserve. Check. I get it. It’s offensive. Jesus didn’t deserve to be crucified. Remember what He said?

“They know not what they do.”

As a follower of Christ I realized the best way I could show His love (a commandment He gave me, by the way) was to love like Him.

When people hurt my feelings, I laid down offense. Instead of thinking of my own hurt, I wondered what hurt they must be under to make them act that way.

When someone cut me off in traffic or a cashier was rude, I offered grace. I smile really big at them!

When my husband doesn’t read my feelings I remind myself that we are different.

When people don’t agree with me, I remind myself that everyone won’t. That doesn’t change my eternity.

And speaking of eternity? Have you ever stopped and realized that 99% of the things that offend us actually have no eternal impact? But, how we respond to the people who offend us, well, that can have an eternal consequence. We may push people away when they offend us, but we shouldn’t push them away from Jesus. If someone stumbles because of me, well, I don’t even want to think about it.

I am who God says I am. Thirty-four years ago, in His great wisdom, God placed me and my mom in Mississippi. He orchestrated my mom meeting my adoptive dad, and my subsequent adoption, the one that would positively impact my opinion of fathers and my life. God placed me in the South, and God loves my Southern drawl. After I laid down my offense I realized that most people love my accent as well. They weren’t all making fun of me or judging my intellect. My offense told me that, but it wasn’t true. I’ve discovered that my patients love the soothing sound of my slow, Southern drawl. It puts their souls at ease in a harried, uncertain environment. It implies caring and it easily earns trust. I cherish my accent, and I’ve found lately that in difficult situations at the bedside, like when I must break bad news, I draw out my syllables a little longer, and I dredge them in sugar a bit more. The patients like that.

I’ve learned that although many times I have every right to be offended, and that God won’t love me any less because I am, I am better able to fulfill my calling when I let go of offense. When I can turn the other cheek I am actually showing the face of Jesus. When I take off the red rage that veils my eyes under my own offense, I am better able to see where and who needs love most.

Will every situation we encounter require us to lay down our offense? No. I’m not saying to let yourself be filleted open for the masses. But I am saying that when we can let go of ourselves and see other’s pain, Jesus smiles. When we can love someone despite their hurting our feelings, they’ll see Jesus in us. When He calls us to lay down our life for a brother, He even means the ones who disagree with us. We can lay down offense, and we can pick up love in its place.

The Four Men I Have Loved Before

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Some people say you only truly love one person in a lifetime. Like, that person is your person. The one. They say that anything before that special one was not really love, only something like it, but I’m not sure I agree. It doesn’t work out that way for everyone. I can think of four men in my almost forty-two years that I have loved. Really loved. To lessen that would cheapen it somehow. To regret it would take away the beauty it held. And even in the pain I think it can hold a place of value, a place of gratitude as you move forward. I believe that for some people love is like different seasons of life, each a path leading you to what you needed all along.

They say, “to have loved and lost is better to have never loved at all,” but I say, “to have loved and lost, then to find love again… that is the best of all.”

I look back on my past and I can pinpoint four men I have loved, each one in a different way, each one in a different season, each one leading me to where I am today.

First came First Love, aptly named. I can easily remember the first man I ever loved. Through this relationship I learned that I could love someone more than myself. I learned how to romantically love another. I was able to experience excitement, intrigue, passion, the butterflies.

Through First Love I discovered how to give of myself, a very noble characteristic. But I also learned when to stop. I learned how to stand up for myself, despite being in love.

Then I learned heartbreak. I learned that love hurts. I realized that men have faults, that love isn’t perfect. How could I realistically love in the present without my past lessons, my first foray of love learned, built, broken, and healed.

First Love taught me how to love, and how to let go of love when that’s what I need to do. I’ll never forget this kind of love.

Second, for me, came True Love. Wow. True Love blows you off your feet, doesn’t it? This was the man who showed me a deeper love than I had ever known. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that I discovered this love at the same time I discovered the love of God. I just don’t think that was an accident.

Childhood rejection and a hundred other things in this world had shown me love didn’t work. That it couldn’t work. My parents were in love. So I wanted to believe it was real. But when I found it, that was when I really believed it in my heart.

True Love changed me. True Love mimicked God’s Love, and though nothing can compare to that, True Love gave me the best example I had ever know. The thing was that it came easy. We didn’t have to try for it. It just happened, like breathing.

True Love was the easiest love I had ever known. It taught me that love is what we’re meant for in this life.

In retrospect, I know that my first brush with True Love was overpowering. I’m not sure I knew how to process that in a healthy way.

But then it wasn’t. True Love slipped away from me. I suppose that happens to us sometimes.

I was broken. My heart was in a million pieces. I felt like there was no love for me beyond that I had found. If it wasn’t my True Love, I didn’t want it. I was dumbfounded, I was numb, I was hurt, and then I just wasn’t anything. I walked around in a haze, unfeeling, afraid, unsure. How could love hurt? How could something written in the stars and meant to be slide through my fingers like sand? Did it never have substance to start with?

My third love came out of nowhere. I wasn’t looking for him. I didn’t want him. He came in from stage left, and he slid in so easily and naturally that my heart opened to him unaware. He was a soothing balm for my broken heart. He was my Healing Love. Healing Love showed me that I could love again, that I could move past heartbreak, that it was okay to be brave and be loved again. Healing Love was like a second chance to feel, another opportunity to open myself up to another, to experience love instead of run from it.

This love taught me to trust despite past hurt.

I had Healing Love for a season, then I pushed it away. I hurt the one who helped me. We do that, don’t we?

After a time, a time of reckless roving, I found love a fourth time. I call this one Consuming Love. It was consuming. It came on strong, hard, and fast. It caused my head to spin, my heart to beat ninety to nothing, my life to change. Consuming Love made me fearless! I desired it beyond anything else! I made decision, big life decisions, based on this love. I followed this love wherever it wanted to take me. I wasn’t coerced or pulled against my will, mind you. I wanted it. I wanted it fiercely. I surrendered myself to this all Consuming Love. You know, I don’t think we’re supposed to do that.

I don’t hold him at fault. I don’t hate him. He didn’t make me do it. I think too many times, especially now-a-days, we blame the other person, as if they changed you, as if you had no say in the matter. And while, yes, Consuming Love is powerful, sometimes changing us without us ever realizing it, I believe we let go. It’s like we’re out on the ocean, in a storm, holding on to faith and who we are meant to be like a life-saving buoy. At some point we let go of who God has us to be. It’s too hard to fight the current, so we let go and the waves take us away. We become someone we don’t even recognize, but should never forget it starts with the decision to let go and let the wind take you where it will.

Consuming Love made me let go of myself. I absorbed the other person, becoming what I thought he wanted. Again, not his fault. I let go.

Even in the years of losing myself, bobbing along like this was what happiness was, I’m thankful for Consuming Love. It taught me how easily I can depend on man to make me feel worthwhile. It showed me that searching for my worth based on how another person loves me will never bear fruit in the end. I realized I must always stay true to what God has for me.

That is love. It never makes you become something you are not. It simply motivates you to grow in what you were always meant to be.

And it was upon my initial breaths of fresh air, pulling myself out of the waves and grabbing my buoy that I found it again.

True Love.

It came back to me. Oh my goodness, the old adage was true. I had let True Love go, and God brought it back. Did I let it go gracefully? Lord knows I didn’t. I let it go kicking and screaming. I let it go reluctantly, with a grudge, running off in the wrong direction, letting my feelings guide me. I let go of True Love, but also my true self. It took about ten years and ten hundred failed and futile, passing relationships to teach me how to love like it truly deserved to be done. Was it a painful process to find True Love once and for all? Very. But I know it happened the way it needed to happen. I made bad decisions, I learned from them, and God worked it all for my good. He does that, you know?

When I found my True Love a second time (the same man, for those of you who don’t know my personal love story), one thing had not changed. It was still easy. Loving him was so easy. Natural. Inhale. Exhale. Meant to be.

Does that mean it came painlessly? No. I came with baggage, and so did he. It was hard at the beginning. I had to take everything that God has shown me through life, and everything that the love of Jesus was proving to be false in that time, and I had to marry it with True Love. I don’t guess it would have worked if we didn’t do that. We couldn’t just learn from our past; we had to learn from God’s Word. We had to realize that our True Love didn’t make our marriage work. It was the True Love of Christ that bound us so perfectly together. That is what had been missing the first time around.

Some people say you only love one person in a lifetime. For me, that’s just not the case. I had to learn to love. I had it inside me all along. I was made to love. I just had to learn how to do it the right way. It took a few tries, and I don’t count them all as failures. I see them as seasons of growth, seasons to fall, seasons to bring me to where I am today.

To all the men I’ve loved before,

I’m sorry. Thank you for loving me, for helping me reach the place I am right at this very moment. For that, I am grateful.

How Not to Be a Christian Witness

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“I just don’t understand it,” she said. “I see all these people getting blessed, but not me.”

I listened to the conversation around me, but I didn’t speak. Do you ever do that? Hear someone say something, have the wisdom for the answer they need, but remain silent knowing they won’t receive it just then? This was my plight. It wasn’t that I was judging this lady; I just was a witness to her character.

She spoke of going to church every time the doors opened, and how she didn’t understand as she saw other people receive God’s blessing. Why not her?

I’m certainly not all-knowing like my Heavenly Father. I don’t understand why some things happen and other things do not. I can’t see from beginning to end, and I struggle through life like anyone. I don’t see the heart of man like God does. Instead I see what human eyes see. I see the outward appearance, I see the actions and life lived. That’s what everyone else around me sees.

The woman in question had a cruel demeanor. No judgment; just stating facts. She frequently spoke down to almost everyone she encountered, stranger or not. She used a condescending tone, and many of her comments let you know she was most concerned for herself. She was rigid, set in her ways, not open to change or the opinions and feelings of others. I wondered what made her that way, and it made me sad for her. How unhappy life must be to always walk around unhappy.

I wasn’t sure why God wasn’t blessing her. I could hypothesize, but it really wasn’t my place, nor did it matter. I didn’t focus on who God was or wasn’t blessing beyond myself. But here’s what I could see. I could see what anyone around me could see. You could see a woman who was quick to talk about being a Christian and going to church, but was just as quick to treat people in a hateful manner or add God’s name to angrily uttered curse words. It was wonderful to proclaim Christianity with your mouth, but if your actions didn’t convey the same, it was useless. Even more harm than good, in my opinion.

The greatest form of worship we can give is the light and love of the life we live.

God doesn’t save us because of our works. We don’t have a punch card to get into Heaven. Like, after ten church visits in a row, admission is free. Our ability to be a “good” Christian doesn’t save us. Only faith in Jesus does that. But our actions do imply our character to everyone around us. So if all a person encounters are bitter, angry, mean-spirited Christians then they will assume that most Christians are the same.

They may say, “what’s the point of that?”

How are Christians different?

Shouldn’t we be?

Set apart, for Him?

To set apart means to be chosen for something different. This world is full of anger, resentment, and grievance. The life of a Christian should be filled with love. So full that it overflows, changes you, sets you apart, and draws people in to know what it is exactly inside you that makes you shine so bright. I believe God blesses that. He blesses our ability to love, to show His love, and to draw people to Him.

Valentine’s Day is coming up. When you love someone you give them a token of your affection. You love them in your heart, but you show them in your actions. When you love the Lord the best way you can show your affection is through the life you lead and the way you treat others. Will you still go to Heaven if you’re intolerable to be around? Yeah. If you have received Jesus as your Savior you will. But if you’re wanting God to bless your life here on earth then you have to give it to Him. And that means a heart change. You take on His character, and it shows in the way you treat others.

As Christians, we are instructed to be His light, to become fishers of men, and to spread the word of His salvation to all nations. It’s The Great Commission, and it’s every Christian’s calling. You may not be called to a foreign mission field, but we all are missionaries in our own right.

You’re a missionary in your home. When your children hear the way you speak about the neighbors, people who have less than yourself, people who are different from you, and even your enemies. You’re witnessing to your children. What will they see? Will it be Jesus?

You’re a missionary at work. How do you treat customers? Or the difficult to deal with coworker? Do people notice something different about you, and do they want to know what it is?

How do you hold up under pressure, or when bad things happen in your life? Don’t feel guilty! We’re all a work in progress. Instead, feel convicted to worship God through your life poured out in love, a sacrifice to Him of giving compassion to others.

You’re a missionary on Facebook in a heated comment section, in a long line at the grocery store, and even in the drive-thru at McDonalds.

This whole world is a mission field, a pool of hurting people in need of God’s love. Let them see it in you. Be the Christian witness you are called to be, not just on Sunday morning, but on Monday morning too.