Brie Gowen

Savor the Essence of Life

I Finally Found Where I Fit In!

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I can recall receiving a specific message tailored just for me from a visiting prophet when I was twenty-one years old. His words were like a soothing balm, the proclamation I had always wanted in life, whether I realized it or not. He didn’t know me personally, yet the accuracy of his comments struck a chord with my misfit heart, and I have remembered them always.

He had spoken, “you feel like an outcast, like you’ve never fit in. But God wants you to know He has a place for you. You’ve always felt like a square peg, and God is saying He has a square hole in mind just for you.”

These encouraging words were just what I needed. I had always felt like an outsider in life. I was the girl in school who tried to hang out at the “cool kids’” lunch table, but had somehow never been able to take a seat there. I didn’t feel welcome.

As a child I was the new kid, from out West, with the weird accent. Totally tubular.

Or I was the sick kid. Epilepsy. Not a well-known condition in small-town U.S.A.

I was the adopted kid, never really fitting in with all the cousins. Treated differently by the grandparents even if they didn’t mean it to be that way.

I was the little girl who was so ordinary that her biological father had left town, never looking back at the daughter he rejected.

I was the quiet girl in school. Pretty, but odd. Puberty didn’t hit until I was seventeen, and I was the last cheerleader who still admitted to playing with Barbies or frogs.

In all the Howard Hughes’ films of the eighties, the outcasts and misfits at least had their own clique. Even The Nerds got their revenge.

But I didn’t fit in anywhere. I couldn’t find my group, and went through most of my young life trying way too hard to find my niche. A loner. Maybe even a loser.

I was born again at the age of 19. I can remember feeling such acceptance into God’s family, but it seemed short-lived. I’ll never say this was anyone’s fault but my own. I know my own perceptions are often to blame. It was probably the devil at work in my feelings, and perhaps in the actions of others as well. Regardless, I never felt like I fit into the Church. Most of my Christian peers had been raised in a deep faith, and I was still learning to read the Bible. I didn’t understand all the rules, of what was good, or what was definitely bad. I was on a learning curve when it came to taboos of the Christian walk, and those who corrected me were not usually gentle. Sadly, I have way too many instances of harsh correction by my “sisters” in faith, and I know I have healing still left from those encounters.

I had a past, but one thing I learned about people was, ones outside the church didn’t care about that stuff. They didn’t give a hoot about what I wore, if I watched an R rated movie, or if I had saved myself for marriage. It was much easier to get along with the people who skipped Sundays all together, and so began a season of being apart from God.

It makes me wonder, is backsliding the result of sinful influence outside the church, or is it perhaps the realization one haves that they’ll never be good enough to have a place at the table of religion?

Oh, but Grace. Great, great grace.

I have finally found my place. I have finally found where I fit. For awhile I thought the place that prophet spoke of over twenty years ago was a certain space. For years I wondered where God would move me, or what group of friends He would put in my path. Still corrupted by the ways of this world, and still scarred by past rejection, I still tried to make myself fit. I attempted to insert myself in this women’s group or that ministry opportunity. I allowed my belief system to be that of the majority to which I wanted to conform, knowing that to sit at the table, there are certain standards you must uphold, and certain opinions you must keep inside. The thing is, no matter how much I tried to mold myself into the Godly women I admired, the more unqualified I felt. I wasn’t the trendy mom, the crafty homeschooler, or the first hand up to volunteer for watching the nursery on Sunday. I didn’t like being busy, spinning plates, or overwhelming my schedule. Then I had this habit of seeing the best in others, trying to walk in the shoes of the “sinners,” and remembering far too easily the past I had previously mentioned. I wanted to give money to a guy on the street without worrying if he was going to spend it wisely! I wanted to believe that each time a drug addict ended up in my hospital bed, that they would stop using, and change their life. When others whispered about a short skirt on Sunday, I remembered a “church lady” making me leave a meeting because my t-shirt said the word “suck” on it.

My weird ideas have often left people confused. My fair treatment of those different than myself has made me unpopular in certain circles. In fact, the last year has found me ousted from the table of many of my Christian friends, simply for speaking topics not allowed for discussion. I guess we could call them “square peg” topics in the circular world of religion.

I felt so hurt. I felt the rejection all over again. Kindness was met with anger, and I trudged away licking my wounds. I guess sometimes you think you’ve found the place where God has you to fit in, only to discover you’ll never fit! We aren’t meant to fit in the pretty, round spaces this world provides. It turns out the edges have hidden rough spots, and you can get a face full of splinters, even as others have planks in their eyes.

When I read the Bible, though, I felt like I fit. When I read, re-read, meditated, and prayed over the words of Jesus, I felt totally at home. In His warm embrace I found my place, and in His love I found me.

I’m not in any way trying to lessen the importance of gathering with fellow believers. I truly belief that finding a church home, surrounded with brothers and sisters in Christ is much needed. Relationships are beneficial! The support, counsel, and correction of other believers is required in this confusing walk of life. So, don’t get me wrong, here. I’m not saying to throw out the baby with the bath water. But I am saying that some dirt and grime can get in the way sometimes.

Some people in this world find their place like the perfect glove. For others, they always feel like an outcast. I think it’s good to understand that if you don’t feel like you fit, you’re in good company. Jesus never fit in with the religious leaders of His day, either. People will misunderstand you, they will hurt you, or they’ll unknowingly (perhaps, knowingly) push you out. But at the table of the Father, there’s always a seat saved for you. Right next to Christ. It’s in His love we find our perfect place. It’s in His love that we finally fit in.

The First Step to a Good Relationship

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I’ve always been one of those gals who likes instructions. I figure most women do, and that’s why we’re a good partner for men. We have no problem following direction, which can be an asset to their ummm, lack of such. I joke, but seriously, relationships are a lot about teamwork. So, as a woman who loves a step-by-step guide, who’s married to a man who figures it out as he goes, we manage to meet in the middle of most things, creating a great balance for this complex thing called life. And since I’m the instruction manual kinda lady, I thought what better way to share some of the relationship knowledge I’ve gained through trial and error, than by giving you all an excellent first step. After all, it’s hard to make it to point C when you’ve neglected A, or even B.

I got the idea for this post this morning when I was reading the Bible. I came across a part when the Old Testament prophet Elijah said to the people, “How long will you waver between two opinions? If the LORD is God, follow him; but if Baal is God, follow him.”

I’m not trying to make being in a relationship akin to serving God (although, lessons are there), and I’m definitely not going to try and over-spiritualize the topic. But many times when I read the Bible it reminds me how it can impact each area of your life. This morning’s readings happened to remind me of a time that changed not only the course of my relationship with my now-husband, but also changed the course of my life. How could I not share that with you all?! It was my very own moment of discovering that if I believed in something, I needed to commit to it already.

It was the day before Valentine’s, approximately 12 years ago. First off, yes, I had waited until the last minute to buy my boyfriend a card. You see, things weren’t the greatest between us. I could blame it on so many things. I mean, I was freshly out of a marriage gone bad, with a husband who had left me. Rejection will make any girl feel afraid to open her heart to another man. I could blame it on my grief. My heart was still numb from the recent loss of my mother. I was living life in a fog, and I honestly don’t remember most days back in that timeframe. I probably drank too much, trying to numb my pain even further, and my fella certainly was no choir boy either. We both succumbed to our individual vices, two broken souls clinging to one another loosely, trying to figure out if we wanted the other person to help save us or not.

Point is, I could go on and on with all the many reasons why we weren’t in a fabulous place in our relationship, but for the purposes of this post, I’m just going to discuss the pivotal decision that started to change things for the better.

So, back to the Hallmark aisle. I love cards. Always have. It must be my love language or something. I’m a writer, after all. I love words. I love how you can take feelings and put them into words, and then gift those words. A card is an amazing way to say, “this! This is a piece of what I feel, and what you mean to me.”

So, there I was in my favorite place, and I had found the perfect Valentine’s Day card, despite waiting until the last minute to buy it. I read the words, knowing they were a perfect declaration of love, but it was some unwritten words that really shook me.

I can’t say I’ve ever heard the audible voice of God, and at the time I hardly heard the whisper of the Holy Spirit to my heart, but when it happened in the card aisle that day I had no doubt it was the voice of God speaking in my head.

“You need to mean it.”

Five words, out of the blue, that caused me to pause before placing the card in my basket, and that began a conviction in my heart. God knew I wasn’t 100 percent in this relationship. I was holding back, guarding my heart, and distrustful of moving forward. The act of purchasing the card for him was just lip service. I was saying “I love you,” but my actions were lacking. The card spun a lovely lyric of commitment, but my heart wasn’t in it. Not really.

Looking back, I wonder if my face in the card aisle reflected the shaking I was under at that moment. It was like I stood at a crossroads. I could keep giving a mediocre effort, kinda gliding through the relationship, indifferent to the eventual outcome, or I could go all in. Yeah, it was a gamble to give away my heart, but I knew I’d never achieve real happiness in a relationship without betting on us. I had all the right words to describe love. Now I just needed to want it and believe it.

The thing is, this world is full of broken, hurting people. When we started our relationship, we were certainly both those things. We had more baggage than a bellhop, but the only way to start unloading it all is to admit it’s there, and then make the decision to do something about it.

A relationship requires give and take. It takes teamwork. It takes both parties willing to work. And the first step to happiness in a relationship is deciding to put in the work. Not halfway, but 100 percent.

Heck, I’ve known people who get married with it on the edge of their thoughts, “this probably isn’t gonna work. Just like all my other relationships didn’t work.”

Well, of course it’s not going to work. Why is the percentage of marriages lower today than thirty years ago? People don’t want to make that commitment. They want a test drive. Let’s just live together and see what happens. There’s no money back guarantee with relationships, and we can’t treat them like there is.

The first step to creating a happy relationship is deciding you can be happy. It’s understanding you deserve happiness. It’s making the commitment to believe in yourself, and to believe in the other person. It’s the decision to actually try and be a better partner. It’s the choice we all make to lay down pride and selflessly serve the person we’re saying we love. Also known as, not just saying the words, but showing them with everything we have.

If you find yourself currently gliding through a tumultuous dating game, ask yourself those words. “Do you mean it?” Are you willing to put in the work? Stand at the crossroads and decide to either go all in or stop pretending just because you kinda crave companionship. Any relationship takes all that both people have to offer. If you’re not ready to give all you got, it may be time to take a step back and see why that is. It’s not fair to the other person if you’re not willing to mean the words inside the card that you’re buying.

How to Have a Happy Marriage

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I receive emails and messages frequently from strangers around the world seeking advice for how to improve their marriage relationship. I can’t say I hold some kind of secret sauce to happily ever after, but I do personally enjoy a very healthy and fruitful relationship with my spouse. If asked our secret, I could mention a handful of things we do or don’t do. If I had to come up with just one word to take to the heart of marriage, it would probably be selflessness, but even that isn’t the key. As I thought about what made our union so blissful, the many key components aside, I realized there was one factor that I believed was responsible.

Even when I speak of selfless behavior, this isn’t something we came up with on our own, or even reached by trial and error. Though, building a life with someone is certainly that. It’s moments built upon days, set up into weeks, with the years racing by, where you do acquire a certain familiarity and ease of being together.

My husband said earlier at our dinner date, “I’ll bet this pandemic showed a lot of people what their marriages were made of.”

Or not made of, sadly. I mean, moments stacked up into weeks, and then passing years can be a dreadful experience if you don’t particularly like the other person. I can honestly say I love my spouse more and more, each and every day. Just when I think I couldn’t love him more… I do. So what gives?

I treat my husband the way I would want to be treated, and he is the same. He is gentle with my feelings, considerate and kind. When anger tries to gather in either of our minds, we have the wherewithal to pause, consider the other’s feelings, and not just react, but react in love. We didn’t get this from a marriage conference or life coach.

I serve my husband in love, and he serves me in return. He doesn’t serve me out of obligation, and I don’t serve him based on some religious idea. We don’t follow a traditional family unit because that’s what’s worked for others. I consider him greater than myself, and he considers me greater than himself. We place the need of one another above our personal needs or desires, and yet mutually we both get what we need in the relationship. Selfless love. Dear Abby didn’t suggest the idea.

I don’t compare. I don’t compare my man to other men, and he doesn’t compare me to other women. We don’t covet the relationships of others. We feed our own. But I also don’t compare myself to him. I don’t place our roles on a scale of justice, weighing one contribution against another. Neither does he. I don’t concern myself with what he’s not doing. I’m too busy being grateful for the things he does do. I don’t keep a tally of who does more in the relationship. That would take my eyes off the gift of doing for him. It would blind me to all the tiny, selfless acts he offers each and every day. No human counselor offered this advice.

I am too busy looking in the mirror to find fault in his reflection. I focus on being a better me, and he does the same. I water my own grass, I don’t sweat the small stuff, and I never let the sun set on my anger. Heck, I just don’t get angry much. Nope, it’s not a miracle chill pill. It’s the Fruit of the Spirit.

All the things I’ve mentioned I don’t do, or the many wonderful things my husband does do, these are all fruits that have sprung up in our marriage because we abide in the vine. To put it plainly, we follow the example of Jesus, and that makes us better for one another. Heck, if it was up to just me, I’d be a horrible wife. My hormones are a mess, I tend to be an absolute control freak, and I cannot understand people who don’t like their ducks in a row. If it were up to me, I’d likely expect perfection in a man, but I learned early on that my happiness isn’t found in this world alone. My joy is complete in Heavenly places, and that takes a load off the chaos down here.

Early in our marriage we began a journey of getting to know Jesus better, and I now realize that is the absolute best thing we did not only for ourselves, but for each other. The teachings of Jesus found in the Bible are the best life hack you will ever find. The words in red teach me how to be a better partner, a selfless friend, a giving wife, a gentle lover, a peaceable person, and an understanding spouse. They teach me not only how to love, but how to love well. Every day is spent in the Word, and because of this dedication to living and loving like Jesus, my marriage blossoms under that care. Our relationship is like a well-watered vineyard, bursting forth with good fruit. It’s not us, really, but rather our ability to live out what scripture teaches.

Of importance and worth mentioning, you can’t just read a few verses out of Ephesians and call it a day. You can’t attend a marriage conference at your church and expect a life change overnight. It turns out that the entire story of God’s love from beginning to end, on each and every page, in each parable and Old Testament lesson, lays the foundation for learning to love like Him. It’s a day by day taking in of the truth, a daily listening to the Holy Spirit, and a continuous surrendering of self to His ways. To be a good spouse is to follow Jesus. To have a happy marriage is to build your life on His purposes, abiding in His love, and not trying to fill your heart with anything less than the true love of Christ. To love the Lord, like, really love the Lord, is the only way to love your spouse as you should, and to be loved by them like you deserve.

My husband is an amazing husband because he seeks Christ. His relationship with me simply overflows from that. Any good thing I do in my marriage is Spirit led. Like I mentioned before, I’d likely be a pretty naggy and slightly psychotic wife if not for the patience, kindness, good temperance, and love the Spirit fills my heart with on the daily as I surrender my life to Him.

I never want to be one of those preachy, self-righteous, overly religious, or pious people who claim to know the secret to a happy life. Heck, I’m still learning as I go, a work in progress, if you will. All I know is, I love my husband, I love my marriage, and I love my life. I wouldn’t change one thing about it. I am not just content, I am supremely blessed, living my own fairy tale it feels like. And when I look around for a reason for my bliss, or the cause of such happiness, I know without a doubt it’s our decision to grow close to Jesus that has drawn us so perfectly close to one another. No secret sauce, but certainly a great recipe for a happy married life.

I’m Done With God

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“Don’t preach to me. I’m done with God.”

This is something a friend said to me recently, and afterwards it really got me to thinking. At the time I remember my head said, “He’s not done with you, though,” yet the words that came out of my mouth were more subdued.

“Ok.”

That is what I had said. To back down was easier than to engage, but that doesn’t mean it’s always the best answer. Thinking over the situation I realized my friend was done like a lot of people were done. It wasn’t so much that he was done with God, but rather that He was done with religion. I get it.

Religion, to me, is like book learning. I read all the material in nursing school. I even took notes. But I did not develop a love for the field until I entered into it hands on. I mean, I was intrigued by anatomy and physiology. The idea of healing made me happy. But it wasn’t until I saw the power of how my healing hands affected another human being that the field of nursing brought me joy. If I just looked at it as a paycheck, I’m sure I would have found something easier on my back with better hours long ago. Droves of nurses flee the bedside because the stress of the field is frustrating and overwhelming. Some of us stay because we’ve fallen in love with what we do. I think for much of the world, they’re easily burned out on religion. I get it.

My friend had asked me some questions about that angry God in the sky. I think the hellfire and damnation part was causing a great divide in his heart. He couldn’t understand how he could follow a Father who would let good friends of his not experience eternity in Heaven. I think he was kinda seeing God like the mean kid in high school who threw the best parties, but you only got invited if your parent’s bank account was up to par. I get it. Book learning will only teach you so much. Heart learning is the only way to get the right answers.

At the time I simply said, “I’m not the judge of who goes to heaven or hell. I leave that up to Him.” But I should have said more.

I should have admitted, “I don’t know all the answers, but I do know my Father.”

I know Jesus. And to know Him is to trust Him.

I don’t know why good people die young. I don’t know why my mother died at 54, or why a good friend of mine just died at 51. But I do know God is good. I didn’t just learn that by going to church, and not even just by taping some inspirational Bible verses on my bathroom mirror. I learned it by love.

I don’t know what happens when hurting, lost people die. I know what scriptures say about things like “weeping and gnashing of teeth,” and I believe that the only way to eternal life is through Jesus, but I don’t know what happens in the unseen. I don’t know what happens on a spiritual plain between here and there. But I know Him. I know He is love. I know He is forgiveness. I know He is the way.

I’m not a Biblical scholar, and I’m not an expert on the law. But I do know Grace. I know that it saves. I do know mercy, and I know the Father’s is abundant.

I think my friend, and a lot of people out there aren’t so much done with God as they are just getting started with Him. The beginning of any relationship can be rocky. The Holy Spirit calls us in. Our hearts are made to be filled with Him. But changing the way we live our lives? That will never come by memorizing scripture. It will come, though, by falling in love with the One who breathed those words into life. And that sweet Ruach, breath longs to blow off the pages into our lives.

This is hard to write. See, I don’t want to discount the truth of the words written in the Bible, but I do want to impress that they are more than just words we must adhere to. They are a doorway into a relationship, a happy home built into our hearts, and therein the answers are found. Without the relationship the words can be meaningless. I know many atheists who have read the Bible front to back. Without the love embossed on the pages, we lose sight of the author’s heart.

I don’t know all the answers to this broken world, but I do know the heart of the God who saved it. I found that the difficult questions of life no longer bothered me as much when I put my focus on the final answer to it all. Jesus. I remember a song I learned when I was young, based on scripture.

Seek ye first the kingdom of God, and His righteousness. And all these things will be added unto you.

It was true all along. To seek is to find, and to find is to know. To know isn’t to know all the answers, but it is to know that whatever the answer is, it is good. It is good because He is good. There are so many things we cannot understand, fathom, or explain, but we can get a little bit closer to the answers by knowing His heart. All I know is, my God is love, and He loves all His children. I will trust Him to sort it out and do things in a magnificently beautiful way. A way that upends religion, much like He upended those tables.

I said before that I didn’t think my friend was so much done with God, but rather he hadn’t got good and started yet. What I’m saying is, you can go to church every Sunday and listen to the entire sermon, but until you spend time alone with Jesus, talking to Him, reading His words, and asking Him to speak the truth of those words through His Holy Spirit into your heart, you’re gonna get tripped up on the details. You’re gonna think the Judge in the sky is angry over your sins, and you’ll forget the Savior who said, “forgive them, Father, they don’t know what they’re doing.” Even as they tortured and killed Him! He spilled His blood for the crowds that yelled “crucify Him,” and until you know that Jesus like a best friend, you’re going to be done too.

Religion will make you say grace before a meal, but relationship will have you give away your last bit of food. Like any relationship, that is cultivated by time together, a love life with Jesus will change your perspective of who He is.

You won’t say, “how can God do this to me!”

You’ll pray, “Jesus, help me through this. I don’t know what you’re doing through this, but I know it must be for my good.”

God loves us too much to be a big, mean kid with a magnifying glass burning ants on the sidewalk. But the only way to see Him as He intends is to get to know Him. I should have told my friend when he asked me tough questions, “my Father, the Dad I know, He isn’t looking down from the clouds with a menacing grin while He throws people in a fire pit.”

If that’s who you think God is, then I would encourage you to dive a little deeper. Get to know Him, and then all the hard questions will have the same easy answer. Realize you’re not done; you never really got started. And He is certainly no where near completed with us.

Can You Love as Adamantly as You Disagree?

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I guess you’ve noticed my drop in posting lately. I’ve taken a step back from social media and public opinion so I could focus on the Lord and His next steps for our family. Despite whether I’ve been writing the past couple of weeks or not, though, my inbox has kept steady with communication from strangers who have come across my writing. This has always been the case, and for the most part I receive lovely encouragement from others. Sometimes I do not. Lately I’ve gotten more ALL-CAPS angry emails than usual, and it hasn’t surprised me a bit considering the state of our country presently. It’s the main reason I took a social media hiatus, but that doesn’t stop my ‘contact me’ box from remaining open.

This past week I received an email from a stranger who had stumbled across a blog post I wrote back in early June 2020 questioning how Jesus might perceive the phrase Black Lives Matter. I could recall it being a well-received post from the people close to me who knew my heart, but as the article swept across the Nation it received mixed reviews. Or perhaps it’s just the angriest voices that speak the loudest. Regardless, the email I received from a man I did not know in reference to this post started by calling me a “daughter of Satan.”

I could go on with the remainder of the insults therein. I could even post it here with his name, but that would be me retaliating for my offense, and that’s not actually what I’m doing here. I don’t take offense. It only makes me sad. Sad that someone who doesn’t even know me took the time to follow a few links to my webpage, contact form, and pen a rage-filled paragraph for me. I guess you could say I’m getting pretty used to it, though. The night before I was labeled by another stranger a “heretic” and guilty of “leading people astray.” I think I’ve had my salvation questioned more in the past few months than ever in my life. But let’s get to the point, shall we.

Let’s put Facebook posts and blog articles aside. I mean, everyone has opinions, and anyone is free to start their own webpage and proclaim them. But, it’s like my husband has told me numerous times, you’ll never influence people with words you share on the internet as much as you will by the life you lead each day. And this was certainly true. I have come to realize this year that opinions will change as we grow. I mean, when I was looking for the link to the recent article I shared above for BLM, I found another I had written in 2016. It was very different. In fact, I think the gentleman who called me a child of Satan probably would have applauded my previous work, but that is neither here or there. My point is, opinions change, people change. Who you vote for in one election may alter drastically in later years, but it’s not our politics that impact the lives around us for Jesus. It’s how we live each day.

My last day of work at the hospital I’ve been at in Orlando, I sat with the most adorable nursing assistant ever. I love her, and she makes me laugh out loud, literally, with her amazing sense of humor. She’s a great tech, and I enjoyed working with her. As we spoke about my upcoming move I brought up the subject of racial injustice. It was a topic newer to me, but one the Lord had really stoked in my spirit this year. Once I opened up the dialogue, and knowing my heart like she did, she began to release her emotions freely. She cried while she expressed her fears to me for her nineteen year old son. She shared personal stories of his interaction with law enforcement, and she recounted a situation of when he didn’t come home at curfew, and her and her mom got frantic with the worry he had been pulled over and shot. She talked about how happy she was that he loved to play video/computer games because it kept him mostly in his room, where she could be certain he was safe.

I couldn’t understand her feelings here. I mean, I wanted to. I sympathized with her concerns as a mother, but I couldn’t fully empathize with her plight. I didn’t have to. I was the mother of four, white daughters. So what I did instead was listen as she spilled her emotions. Then I told her, “I can’t even begin to imagine how this feels, but I can tell you this. This isn’t right. You should not have to feel this way! I love you, and I stand by you in this fight.”

The thing is, I had been working alongside this woman for two years. She knew I was a Christian. She heard me listen to worship music while I charted, but she also knew I loved Jesus by my actions. She saw it in the way I treated my patients for years, but now, on my last day, I made it apparent to her that I loved her like Jesus would have me to. I saw her, and I held her concerns of value. I loved her just by listening. I loved her by offering my support.

I think that too often in this life we complicate things that are really quite simple. Like the Pharisees in the day of Jesus we focus on things that perhaps we should not. When Jesus and His disciples walked through a field the Pharisees attacked them for picking grain and eating it on the Sabbath. They were hungry, and they took of the bounty God had given. But the religious sect focused on the law (no work, or harvesting grain on Sunday) rather than feeding the need of others. I think that today, instead of choosing to walk with Jesus in that field of wheat, we’re sitting on the sidelines checking the boxes that keep us in the category of Christian according to religion. If we can say we support the right causes, vote the right color, and call out the really big sins, then we’re good. If we can attend services on Sunday we can check the box, but we don’t have to do much beyond that. We can neglect those who need us most. We can keep our Christian friends happy, but forget that it’s the sick who need a physician the most. Those are the words of Jesus, not mine. It was His response when the church leaders of the day ridiculed Him for hanging out with the wrong crowd.

I will be transparent here and tell you that when I got that email I was hurt. What’s the best way to try and cut a lover of Jesus? By questioning their salvation, or their dedication to Him. It seems that this is how fellow believers have disagreed with me lately, by calling into question my Christianity. But do you know who has never questioned it? The lost. I have crossed paths with many people who don’t live a life dedicated to the Lord, but they never question that I do. They learn of my Christianity by the cross I wear around my neck, by the music I listen to, by the scripture I post on social media, or by the words I say. They learn of my dedication to Jesus by the way I live my life each day, by the way I treat others, respond to adversity, and most importantly, by how I love.

I read the Bible a lot. Despite some comments from others telling me I need to read my Bible, I actually do. Like, I read it for hours a day, daily. I love the Word, I crave it, and I find it gives me peace when this world seems crazy. In my study of scripture I’ve never found the parts that state a specific political affiliation is required. I’ve never seen the part where Jesus pinpointed the top three sins of all time. I’ve never found the part that tells us to ridicule those with different opinions, or those who sin differently than ourselves. I do recall something about us all falling short, and I definitely remember a time or two where He instructed us to love others like ourselves. Even to lay down our lives for a brother.

Lay down your life for a friend (John 15:13). I used to think that meant dying physically so someone else could live, much like a civilian hero or soldier on the battlefield. And perhaps it does. But I also think it means metaphorically laying down your life, like, being able to lay down what the world thinks, the reputation of man, the opinion of those besides the Father. It means hanging out with tax collectors even when the Pharisees snub their noses. It means offering healing to those that some might leave bleeding on the side of the road (shout out to the Samaritans). It means standing up for what is right, even if it’s not popular opinion. It means demanding change even as people question something that only God can know. Like your heart motives. To lay down your life means to sacrifice for others, just like Jesus modeled to us. It means to love people you’ve never met, take the punishment for something you didn’t personally do, or humble yourself, even to death, albeit death of your presumptions.

I read an excerpt from Jared Byas, Love Matters More, that said, “Somehow we’ve duped ourselves into thinking that what we believe is more important than how we believe. Perhaps it’s time to remember that love matters more than just believing in God in our heads and that love is a verb.”

I wonder what would happen if we loved as well as we disagree? What if we decided to love others as much as we love our own opinion? What if we laid down offense, laid down our lives, and simply loved instead? Could we admit we have been wrong, admit others have been wrong, or try to be better today than we were yesterday? Maybe we could even throw off the labels we wear. We could decide that it’s not Democrat or Republican, so much as listen and learn. It’s not just liberal or conservative, but kindness and kingdom-thinking. Then we could remember that leading others to Jesus is more important than standing on the right side of a political battle or internet argument. Then we could remember that it’s our fruit of the spirit that will make us known as followers of Him, and certainly not the angry words we throw to a stranger.

The Tide is Coming In

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The Lord has been speaking the same message to me since the beginning of July, adding a bit more to it each day.

Initially I saw a huge mountain. Next I saw waves crashing into its base. They were large, violent waves, and I realized they were eroding pieces of the mountain away bit by bit.

I thought of the verse about faith, how with it we could ask a mountain to jump into the sea, and I heard the Lord say, “sometimes I move mountains little by little.”

The second day I saw just the waves, churning, building momentum, getting larger. I knew they were working their way towards something huge.

I asked the Lord, “what do the waves represent?”

“My Spirit,” He answered.

I asked the Lord, “what about the mountain?”

“The mountain,” He answered, “is the spirit of deception.”

“Well, then, where are we?” I asked.

He replied, “under the mountain.”

I keep coming back to this same word. I guess because I’ve been so busy at work, that I didn’t have time to put it down on paper, and God wanted to make sure I didn’t let this one pass by. I prayed in the Spirit again this morning, for the world at large, and I understood as I prayed that mountains are made out of hard rock. It takes time and repeated hits of the breakers to take down what religion has built.

I prayed that as the rocks of deception fell away into the sea, that God’s people could stand firm on the shore. I understood that many would be washed away with the tide because their system of belief was on the mountain of deception rather than the Spirit of Truth that had arrived to disassemble things/lies that had been too long standing.

I still believe God is moving in this season. I believe the tide is coming in. The Truth of God is tearing away deception. The thing about deception, this trickery of Satan, is that it looks good from the outside. It appears strong, colossal, favored even. It appears to tower over the land, standing tall and firm, but I think that the Spirit of Truth has been chipping away (slowly to our earthly minds) at this false idol. And I believe now that the waves are building, the tide is rising, and the true power of God is breaking down what is left.

The only question is where we will stand as believers? Will we cling to the traditions of the mountain, that so easily crumbles, or will we stand firm on the shore, as the Holy Spirit washes over us? I believe the Spirit will wash away deception and leave us standing, but only if that’s what we desire. Some will wash away into the sea, clinging to their piece of rock, never even understanding its pulling them under, until it’s too late and they drown.

What Christians Need Most

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As I left work last night I marveled at the pink and lavender sky as the sun began its descent along the horizon. It had been a pretty good day. I mean, it had been a long day. Thirteen hours on your feet never felt short, and looking at a step-counter on my phone, I had walked a few miles to boot. The patients had been challenging, and I felt a dull throb in my lower back from lifting, pulling, and holding two times my body weight every two hours throughout the day. But still, it had been a pretty good day.

“Thank you for a good day, Lord,” I spoke out loud.

I smiled. Despite the full, long day, despite the weariness around the edges, I felt good. I felt joy. There was a difference between happiness and joy. Happiness was dependent on your situation. The day before I had been very happy while I floated in the pool, but as I made the drive home, feet tired and brain frazzled, I felt that river of contentment flowing through my being.

What made life like this? I wondered.

And just as quickly I thought, the fruit of the spirit.

It seemed to permeate most of my day. It had changed how I interacted with coworkers, patients, a stranger in line at the store, my spouse, and everyone in between. It had changed me. I had not always been so patient or even so kind. I had not always been loving, and I certainly wasn’t the epitome of self control. Even now, I am the furthest from perfect as anyone can be, but I have seen myself grow over the past few years. And because of such, my life has improved dramatically.

I know why, and I saw something run across the news lately that especially brought this to the forefront of my mind. One huge decision I had made in my life had flipped it upside down, which honestly meant it was right side up. Isn’t it funny how what the world tells us is correct, nine times out of ten, that’s just not true? I discovered real truth is only found in one place, but I’m astounded by how many don’t even consider it as important. I mean, they know it is, but knowing and doing are two different things entirely.

The national news story that I came across happened to have occurred less than fifteen minutes from the town I grew up in, and though I no longer lived there, it made me sad to see such horrible happenings become attached to my hometown. It was disappointing but not all together surprising. I had been raised there, after all, and I could recall hearing the same thing from some people in the small, Southern Baptist church that I had entered my teenage years attending, but had never returned to after college.

It seems that a woman was caught on video denying wedding services to another woman because the couple to be wed were an interracial couple. You can catch details of the story here, but to sum it up the owner of the establishment stated they were denying their services due to their “Christian” beliefs that interracial marriage was a sin. In other words, she was implying God was against mixing races, and was quoted as saying she “wasn’t going to argue her beliefs.”

I must say I was pleased with the majority response from friends in the area. They were appalled by the situation, and some very strong worded about it. A few others offered grace, and it was through such a source that I saw a personal response on the owner’s Facebook page a few days later. I have to give the woman applause for admitting she was wrong, and while I in no way condone or approve of her opinion, I do think it was very good for her to publicly admit her fault.

In her public apology she confessed that she had always assumed this particular instance (interracial relationships) to be mentioned in scripture, but at her husband’s prodding she had found it was not. After studying her Bible and seeking Godly counsel from her pastor, she realized her long-held “belief” was strictly passed down intolerance. Nowhere in the Bible did it claim this to be a sin, but since she had been raised by other humans to believe it was, that became her truth.

And that’s where our problems lies, ladies and gentleman. We are a generation of busy Christians, Christians much too hurried to have time for the Bible. We assume Sunday is enough, flipping rapidly through whatever verse the preacher reads out loud, forgetting that the man on the pulpit is also just a man. We forget that we must glean the scriptures ourselves for God’s truth, that per His instruction we must meditate on it day and night.

What happens instead is that we start accepting the world’s truth as God’s truth. We think success is found through possessions, that healing just through the hospital. We lose sight of who God is, that He is the same yesterday, today, and forever. So we assume miracles are something from Old Testament Times, and that now it’s up to us to make our own way.

What happens is we push people away from Jesus. We’re so busy relying on man-made and mankind adapted rules and religious, pharisaical dos and don’ts that we lose sight of truth. We forget the greatest command of them all because we aren’t daily submerged in God’s Word! We remember how to play church, but we forget how to love!

What happens is we become depressed and anxious. We worry about things we can’t control. We look at man to save us! Bail me out of this jam, loan man. We stay up all night long trying to figure out how to solve our dilemmas. Meanwhile God is just waiting for us to ask. Maybe we get overweight or we develop a problem with drinking, gambling, pornography. We’re just so lonely, empty, and hopeless, and we search all over for something to fill the vacant places. Never once do we crack the Bible to find the answers there.

Hard day at work? Let’s go get a drink! That’ll fix it. Smh. Hey, I’ve been there. No judgment here. All I know, from personal experience, is that the next morning my head hurt and my problem still existed. It wasn’t until I read the Bible and learned how to view my job that work no longer sucked. Just being honest.

See, what happens is we think babies in the womb aren’t a life until they get on the outside, like maybe a hotdog in the package isn’t food until we finish cooking it on the grill and throw it in a bun. Hey, my three year old holding a cold wiener straight from the pack may disagree, but I’ve heard crazier things.

I’ve heard that you can fill your mind with horrific images via movies or your music, without any consequences to your spirit. I’ve heard you can ask for good vibes on Facebook while consulting your psychic and get your grandma to pray to Jesus for you all at the same time. You really want to cover all the bases for best results. It’s okay to lie if no one finds out, and cussing out someone on the freeway is fine and dandy. Oh, and you don’t really have to give 10% in the offering plate anymore if you need the money for something else. I mean, who do you think provides for us? Us, of course!

So what happens is we end up thinking we don’t need God everyday. We drift along happily with our fancy life, planning our parties and running up our credit card bills for more stuff we don’t need. But then when our child gets really sick we cry out to Jesus.

Oh, Jesus, why won’t you answer me?!

Give Him a minute. Maybe He’s trying to place your voice. After all, He hasn’t heard it in six months.

What happens is we believe lies from Satan. We don’t think they’re from Satan. We don’t even really think about him. He’s mentioned somewhere in the Bible, but the preacher only mentions the devil when he talks about Hell, and you’re not going there. You’re saved by the blood of Jesus. You’re a Christian. Your youth leader told you so! What happens is we become Christian only in title; we lose sight of living like one. We forget that to be a Christian is to be a follower of Christ, and to follow the ways of Jesus you have to read what He said, what He did, what He sacrificed for you. You have to be brought to literal tears when you read how much He gave so that you could live! But instead we spend our time binging Netflix and crying over our latest romance novel.

You know what? I love me some Netflix. I won’t deny it. But nothing comes before the truth. Nothing.

To walk in freedom, to bear the fruits of the spirit, and to lead a joyful, hopeful, wonderful life that is lacking no thing we must read the Bible! I know, I know. I too used to think that was just something people said. You think that praying is enough, that going to church on Sunday is enough, that wearing shirts with scripture on them is enough, that hanging out with other Christians is enough, that growing your hair long or being submerged in water just in itself is enough, that wearing a cross around your neck and flying the flag of Israel in your yard is enough (yeah, I saw the flag hanging next to it that evokes feelings of division and hate, but that’s a blog for another day). The point is, none of it is enough, and because this stuff can take the place of God’s Word in your life, it’s actually a lie straight from Hell. Your “salvation” is really your veil that covers your eyes, and it’s the stumbling block that makes others fall. Only in Spirit and Truth will we find the wholeness that God can provide. Listen, I’m not saying you’re going to Hell if you never read your Bible. There’s only one judge up in here. But I am saying that if you want to live a full, free, joyful life then you have to dig deeper. You have to read God’s Word.

How do I know this? I mean, besides scripture saying it’s so? I see it in my life. Over the past eight years I have been on a journey of growth with the Lord, and the biggest breakthrough began to occur when I submerged myself in the scriptures. I began to crave more of Him, and it filled me to read His Word. Over time the words of truth bled into my life and they transformed me. How I viewed myself, how I viewed others, and how I viewed the world all changed. I began to see everything through the eyes of Christ. But it wasn’t just that.

I found joy. True, lasting joy. I got rid of fear once and for all. I kicked anxiety to the curb. I learned how Jesus could help me deal with my depression. Of note, because I see feathers ruffling already, I take a medication to help with hormonal mood swings and depression. I am a nurse, after all, and I do believe God gave us the brains to develop healthcare, but I also know my Healer works in me in conjunction.

I’ve found my life is more fulfilling, my marriage is happier. Like, I fall in love with my husband more and more each day. Of note, he reads the Bible everyday also. We do it together. God’s truth carries our marriage to places it could never go without Him. Our marriage is so successful because of Jesus, and knowing the Bible helps us know how to treat one another as Christ would.

Y’all, I could go on and on about how God’s Word fed into my life has changed everything for the better, but I know you don’t have all day. I don’t want you reading this much longer anyway. I want you reading your Bible!

The point is, you can belief what your family has always said, what your friends say, and what the world deceives you into believing. You can do this, still find salvation, but have a rough road until Jesus returns. Or… you can read His instruction manual now (because He told us in there what to do until He returns), and find some joy and contentment here on earth. Am I saying life is perfect if you read your Bible? Heck, no. But it sure is a lot easier with truth on your side. Plus, the side effects are phenomenal.

Why You Shouldn’t Move In Together Prior to Getting Married

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I’ll start by saying this isn’t a judgmental post. I will be the first to tell you I’ve made many mistakes in my life, and living together with a man or two is definitely one I consider regrettable. So with that being said, anytime I feel like sharing some advice I’ve learned the hard way, please understand it’s with a heart of love. I hate for someone to experience the past pain I have seen in my time. Retrospect is a lovely animal, and it’s with that 20/20 vision I approach this subject, not from some pristine pedestal. Okay?

I recall hearing the advice growing up that getting married is like buying a car. You want to take it for a test drive before you make the purchase. It’s with that insight into relationships that I moved forward. If it made me feel good for a bit then that was enough. There wasn’t the outlook of “is this what’s best for my future?”

And that’s how a majority of society sees relationships. We have become a selfish society that focuses far too much on me, me, me. Look at your social media sites packed full of selfies, if that tells you anything. We do what feels good for the moment with little thought to tomorrow, and we lose our confidence in our fellow man along the way. Women settle for a guy who throws them a bone of attention, and not much is considered along the lines of a future mate. Ladies don’t ask, “will he be a good husband,” or even a “good father.” They instead celebrate something as simple as a return text message or flirty Snapchat. 

Dating is hard. I remember. But I believe to find a partner who respects you as something special and worthy you must demand that respect. I don’t mean “demand” in a harsh manner. I think of something my grandma used to say. “Why pay for the cow when you can get the milk for free?”

Here’s my thoughts. They may not be yours, but for what it’s worth, here’s mine. This will be the way I raise my daughters. I will tell them, “your body is precious. It’s a gift. Don’t let anyone have it so carelessly. Sex is a beautiful covenant making you one flesh with your partner, and it’s something better kept until marriage.”

What happens when you become one flesh with “John,” but then it doesn’t work out? So then you go become one flesh with “Phillip.” Then “Steven,” and so forth. By the end of all your broken relationships you’ve spread your self all over the place. Your spirit has connected with so many people that you’re left splintered and torn. You’ll feel pretty beat up and broken, actually. 

Once again, I have been down a wrong road more than once, and I can tell you that years of brokenness and rejection is no way to exist. Thank God, who brings healing, but it takes years, and some scars are left stubbornly behind to infect future relationships. 
Well, what about if you’ve found your soulmate? You’ve found the one for whom your heart yearns, and together you decide “let’s move in together.” This is pretty common. I guess my question would be “why?”

Why move in together prior to getting married? It’s to try it out, right? You want to make sure you’re compatible before you take the step to get married. I can get that, but let’s dissect it for a minute. 

Do you love this person? Can you see yourself marrying them?

If no, cut it off. End it now. No point in dragging it out for years and suffering the pain of a break up later. 

If the answer is yes then why do you need a trial of living together? I’ll just go ahead and save you the suspense. Living with someone is hard. It’s going to be hard either way, but if you love the person and you’re dedicated to a future together then make that commitment. Work together to solve your differences. Show your partner that you believe in the relationship enough that you’re willing to commit from the get-go. No one wants to be somebody’s trial basis, money back guarantee. Talk about a self esteem wrecker. 

If you care about someone enough that you want a future with them then you should be bold enough to step out and do things according to God’s directives. Don’t be a stumbling block for your future spouse. Show them that they’re special enough that you know right now you want to spend the rest of your life together. Because if you’re not sure you’re just being selfish with their emotions. You’re using them because it feels good now. You don’t know if it will feel good later, and that stinks. As a woman nothing breaks your self worth like a man not being willing to say they can foresee a life with you. 

If you truly love someone you will respect their body, their heart, and their spirit. You’ll respect their feelings of self worth and you’ll cultivate their confidence in not only themselves, but also in your relationship by making a lifelong commitment that honors God. If you aren’t sure then maybe you should move on and work on you for a bit. 

Nothing is quite so tender as the human heart. It’s made to be loved, to be special, and to be worth committing to. That’s the only way it will ever feel complete. In my opinion if you live together outside of marriage there’s always a back door. The other person always knows in the back of their mind, “hey, they can jump ship, no penalty anytime.” I don’t know about you, but that doesn’t make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It actually makes you feel pretty ordinary and disposable. Not special at all. 

Like I said at the beginning, this isn’t a judgement call. It’s simply an observation after years with a broken heart. Eventually you learn the hard way. I just thought I might save you the trouble. 

My Husband is Clueless

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I heard the musical ting of my cell phone across the kitchen as I collected dishes from the counter and carried them to the sink. Even though the stainless steel basin was sizable in nature, it still had a hard time keeping up with my growing family. I quickly grabbed half a dozen dirty coffee mugs my husband had brought in from his car, and added them to the mound of items to wash. 

He was always forgetting to bring in his used coffee cup until he completely ran out of them. 

I knew the baby would only nap for so long, just as I knew the other children would only stay occupied and out of trouble for a bit longer, and in my haste I forgot about the pinging tone of my phone in favor of sweeping the floor. I had just done it the day before, but it begged for my attention nonetheless. I wondered briefly while I swept under the table what it would look like if I didn’t keep up with it. 

Sometimes it seemed like I was the only one who knew how to clean the floors. 

After depositing a fresh pile of crumbs into the trash I made my way into the living room, picking up discarded cups and wayward toys as I went. As I tidied I noticed my spouse’s discarded socks stuffed under the sofa, and I bent frustrated to scoop them up and take them to the laundry. 

His socks never seemed to make it there on their own. 

Just as I started a load of laundry, and right before I considered sitting down for a moment by myself to think, the baby woke from her nap. I hustled to the bedroom to retrieve my littlest lady, grabbing my cell phone as I went. 

I never had a free moment. Sometimes I felt like my life was a race. 

Minutes later I sat in the rocker feeding my daughter, and remembering the text from earlier I pulled out my phone. On the screen was a message from my husband, complete with emojis and such. I looked at his words and I realized something right away. 

My husband was clueless. 

He had no idea. 

I looked at his sweet words sent to me, and I realized he could never know how much he meant to me. He could never fathom how much I appreciated his constant love during a chaotic time of our lives. 

During a season where I felt as if I was continuously on the run, his words of affection and longing were a refuge in my day. He was clueless to how much thoughts of our relationship inspired me throughout the week. 

During a time when we both worked so hard that coffee was the go-to beverage, and days ended where you were so tired that taking your socks and shoes off seemed like a chore in itself, we never neglected to remember what was really important. 

And it wasn’t clean dishes. It wasn’t even a shiny, crumb-free floor. Although that was nice. 

As I looked at my phone I knew my partner in life had his priorities straight. He knew what was key. But I was pretty certain he was clueless at just how much his involvement and presence meant to his wife. 

When life gave us busyness, his presence offered me peace. When work and responsibilities piled up, his affections gave me respite. For in the sureness of our shared love none of it seemed to matter as much. All that mattered were the significant things; us, and the family we had built. 

  
Though he knew every inch of my body, every crevice of my mind, and how to make me smile when I needed it the most, of one thing I knew he was completely clueless. And that was just how much he meant to me. 

The Unexpected Thing That Happened When I Stopped Going to Church 

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This post came to mind after a recent conversation with a friend. “How do you stay close to God?” She asked. 

After the birth of my first child I found myself in a whirlwind of change. Naturally. Parenthood has a tendency to do that, but it my case it also accompanied a period of renewal for me. Though my body was bone tired, my spirit was energized. My first year of parenthood also happened to be a wonderful time for me as a child of God, and I found myself drawing closer into His welcoming embrace. 

Despite the cultivation of my spiritual relationship, I found myself mildly disappointed in my role as a mother. It wasn’t that I disliked being a parent. No. In fact I adored being a mom, and I felt a deep calling to give it my all. My sense of being disheartened came because I couldn’t do it more.  I worked a lot, and I desired to be home more, but it simply wasn’t financially feasible. I prayed about it constantly. 

Over three years ago I felt my prayers answered, and an opportunity arose to continue to bring home a full-time income with benefits, but only work part-time. My husband and I prayed about it, and we spoke to our pastor. Everyone was in agreement that this decision would benefit our family. It would allow me to be with my children more and serve my spouse more readily at home. It was a God-honoring choice for our family. 

But it also meant I would stop going to church. 

You see, this position happened to take place on the weekends, and it meant I would work on Sunday. Every. Single. Sunday. The whole Sabbath day. 

Pros and cons were weighed, and in the end we all decided it was for the best. I was excited, but a part of me worried. I was finally back in God’s will, and I was in a close relationship with the Lord. I didn’t want to see that suffer. Now that I would no longer receive nourishment for my soul on Sunday mornings I was concerned it might damage my spiritual growth. 

And this was what my friend asked me about. She was considering the same, weekend option. “How do you manage? How do you stay close with God?”

I was actually pleased when she stated she noticed it appeared from my writing that my relationship with Jesus had grown over the years, and since I too believed that to be true, I was glad she saw it. I had quit going to church on Sunday, and after over three years of missing Sunday services my relationship with God had grown exponentially. So how did I manage that?!

I think I learned something that sadly so many of us miss: a relationship with Jesus isn’t based on church attendance. 

That statement might ruffle some feathers. It certainly isn’t good for the church roster, but I believe it is true enough to repeat. A relationship with Jesus isn’t based on church attendance. And I’ll tell you why. 

Too often we assume that if we go to church every Sunday that we are set. And that’s all we do. There are some fantastic preachers out there, mine included, but if you’re counting on them to get you to heaven then you’re sorely mistaken. A relationship with the Lord can’t sustain itself, and it can’t thrive on a lesson learned in a hour one day a week. 

When I began working Sundays I was so worried my spiritual life would suffer that I decided to fight for it. I was off Monday through Friday, and I spent every free moment I had seeking His face. I prayed continually, and now speak to Jesus all day long throughout my waking moments. In fact I converse with Him right when my eyes open, even in the middle of the night. I made the choice to listen to His voice, and I spend as much time as I can manage in quiet time allowing Him to speak to my heart. 

I read the Bible frequently, and now His word is an everyday lamp for my feet. It gives me comfort in all things. I listened to recorded sermons during the week, and I surrounded myself with worship and praise music. I learned to depend on my relationship with God, and it became a lifestyle, not just a place I went a couple of hours on Sunday. 

I do go to a Bible study during the week, as I think it’s incredibly important and beneficial to commune with fellow believers. I also listen to sermons and teachings from pastors and preachers much more learned in scriptural truth than myself. I need that, and for that reason I think organized religion and church attendance is detrimental to the spiritual growth of a believer. I definitely think it’s needed for Christ followers. But the past four years have taught me that there’s more that you must have if you really want to thrive. 

Being pulled away from the church building, by decisions of my own, taught me that Jesus doesn’t live strictly in my church’s sanctuary. He lives in my heart. And building and sustaining a lasting relationship with Him requires commitment, diligence, and time. Not simply weekly attendance. Instead I attended to my communion with Him. 

So how do I do it? The way we all as children of God must do it. Time, wherever I may find it, time. Commitment, however I may achieve it, commitment. Determination, to obtain and maintain a close, personal relationship, determination. I haven’t perfected any of the above, but I continually strive to do it better. 

Now I pray continuously that the Lord will help me find a way back to my Sunday mornings at church. Honestly, I miss them. But for now I know I am where God wants me to be for my family. So I just continue to also be where I need to be with Him.