There is a tension in my shoulders, up my neck, down my back. Its been there so long I hardly even notice it anymore. I can't even remember the last time I felt truly relaxed. Completely at ease. I could list alphabetically the reasons why but, honestly? They don't really matter. But the toll that list is taking on me does. 

I've always considered myself a brave person. Other people have even told me I was courageous for one reason of another. I look forward to that tiny adrenaline rush you get when you start something new or unknown and, while I can feel nervous about it, making big decisions was never scary or something I dreaded. 

Except I did. I did dread and fear and procrastinate and overthink and wallow and hide and blame. I do those things every day. But I call it something else and move on with my inflated sense of bravery and adventure. 

And so the unnamed, ignored fear settles into my soul and creeps up my spine, squeezing and tugging and restricting until I have no choice but to take notice. In my mind's eye I can see myself crouching in the dark corner, afraid to look into the mirror of my soul and see what horrid monstrosity lurks there. What life-sucking creature who's dread is felt but who's face remains unseen. A poisonous breath pours over me whispering, "Don't even try. You know you can't do it." So I sit there, in my own mind, for days or sometimes weeks, breathing in the poison, quaking in the corner, clawing at anything to try and bury myself further away from it all. 

But then... 

In mercy and grace that are both undeserved and unlooked for, the light of Love Incarnate appears. Not appears as though it had been absent but rather a flicker catches my eye and I turn to see a light that has been there all along- patient, warm, inviting. I stare into it and as I do the tightness in my chest opens up just a bit. The clawing in my mind recedes and the voice that whispered obscenities in dark is replaced by something new. If you could feel music on your skin or hear love in your ears or see peace in the air- it would be This. 

In the presence of This, I am seen, known, loved, forgiven, cherished. I am gifted courage, generosity, sincerity, strength, passion, humor, humility. Gently, I am led to the mirror and shown myself. I cringe with pain at first but somehow where the light touches I find healing. The ugliness I see in myself is transformed before my eyes into something worthy, useful, beautiful even. And I begin to realize that this is worship. 

This knowing and loving of a creature made in the Image is worship of the Creator. To be fully who and what He intended and to love that person is worship. I am actively worshipping when I courageously open my heart to another person; when I name a rising fear and put it back to rest; when I hear beautiful music and stop to let it penetrate my soul; when I look at the snow through my daughter's eyes and see magic; when I allow myself to feel the pain of disappointment without listening to the condemning voice that says, "You shouldn't even have tried." 

Inhale. 

Exhale. 

The light is there, has been there all along. Lean into the light. 

Sometimes the middle is the hardest part. You've pushed off the shore into uncertain waters and you can't quite see the other side that you know is there. The nervousness of something new has faded and the excitedment of arrival to the other side hasn't quite set in yet. You're just out there, in the middle. Between the beginning and the end, the start and the finish.

You start wonder if you made a mistake or read the map wrong. Maybe you should be sailing faster or closer to the shore. Maybe you should have reached the other side by now or turned back. Maybe a unexpected storm is approaching and you think to yourself, "This wasn't supposed to happen." You feel like you're blown off course or worse, just drifting. 

That endless drift of nights and days where you do everything you should, everything that expected of you. You check your map and compass over and over and over because surely you should have arrived by now. At night you search the stars and at daylight vainly search for the shoreline. And you start to wonder, "Is this all there is? Is this the grand adventure?" 

The middle isn't always soft and gooey like that middle brownie with no edges. It isn't always comfy like stretching out in the middle of a big, soft bed. It isn't always exciting like the middle of a good book. Sometimes it's hard, and cold, and lonely, and boring. Sometimes you wish you never started. Sometimes you scream at the sky in frustration over your slow progress, eyes burning from endlessly searching for the end. 

But the middle is where it matters. The middle where your story, your journey, takes shape. The middle is where your character is revealed. Hold on to that hope that you set sail with. Find that excitement of arrival in a new place and keep it before you. Instead of searching for the shoreline, search for joy in the everyday. Embrace the growth of this midpoint. Choose faithfulness in the small hard things. Everything has a beginning and an end; the middle doesn't last forever.

Hold on to hope. 

You are beautiful.

Did you know that?

You are beautiful. Maybe a beautiful mess. Maybe a picture of "how to make bad choices" beautiful. Maybe a lopsided, half baked, gave-it-an A-effort kind of beautiful. But you are beautiful.

I need to be reminded of that sometimes. Reminded that beauty isn't just in perfection, or coordination, or when everything falls exactly into place. Beauty happens when and where you least expect it. Have you ever seen a child covered in mud from his eyes to his toes but with a face-splitting smile on his face? That's beautiful. That helping hand you give to little old ladies who can't reach the top shelf in Wal-Mart: that's beautiful. When you forgive yourself for failing, again. That is beautiful.
Hands lifted up in worship.
Spider webs.
A broken heart that still loves.
Eyes that see past someone's exterior and into their heart.
Music played with 10% skill and 110% heart.
You getting up and facing the world every day.
Roadside flowers that grow for no one in particular.

This is beauty. The imperfections, the mistakes you learn from, the broken roads that lead somewhere amazing, the tireless work toward your dreams. Your courage, commitment, loyalty, love, kindness, generosity, honesty, patience, gratitude show beauty in everything you do.

Use courage and kindness and create beauty wherever you go. Choose to see beauty in broken pieces. Choose to see beauty when you look in the mirror. See His image looking back at you and see that you are indeed, a beautiful creation.

This isn't everything you are.

Right now. Here. In this exact moment.

This isn't all you are. This isn't everything you have to give. This isn't the sum of your value. I don't refer to what you do- your accomplishments, your achievements, your failures and mistakes. Those have consequences and benefits, of course. I am speaking about your intrinsic value as a human being.

Loneliness is epidemic in my generation. Constant connection but very little real intimacy. Private details of lives spread across the internet for anyone to see. Desperate attempts at authenticity that burn the author with exposure. Constantly putting yourself out there only to be criticized and tossed aside by others seeking the same connection as you.

It wears on you. Whittles your self-confidence to a very fragile thread. Your perceived value decreases with every rejection, every broken promise, every broken connection. And you begin to see yourself differently. Like maybe this is all you are. The second choice. The backup. The almost but not quite. The runner-up.

This isn't everything you are.

Those times you tried and didn't make it but tried again? You are brave.
Those people you loved even when they didn't love you back? You are strong.
Those mistakes you made? You are wiser now.

Your value is so much more that what can be seen. The world that lives inside your head, every quirk that makes you you, your perspective of the world that is utterly unique, the eternity bound up in your mortal frame... this is where your true value lies. Kindness from a broken heart, peace from a turbulent soul, gentleness from a mighty hand; these are rare and wonderful and priceless.

The loneliness that you feel etched on your soul doesn't determine your value. You longing for connection is real and sacred and not a sign of weakness. You are more, so much more. Let the pain of that loneliness remind you...

This is not everything you are.

Begin again

The hardest part is the beginning. The figuring out how to get started. The perfect blueprint with no idea how the finished product will look.
The beginning is exciting. And terrifying. And hard. And fun.

{The beginning: when anything is possible and nothing is certain.}

Beginnings can be small or monumental. They can be of choice or necessity. Sometimes you begin again because you have no other option.

No matter the reason, no matter the circumstance, a beginning is another chance. Maybe not a second chance at the same thing but another chance for you to make the right choice. To do the right thing this time. To accept the grace that is given to you to forgive and move on. To hold yourself to a new standard and reach your benchmark. To finally succeed when you had failed before. To learn from lessons taught at the end and apply them to your beginning.

Begin again with courage, dear hearts. Let the mistakes of the end stay at the end and don't let them mar your beginning. Spread wide your arms and welcome this season. There's a refreshing wind that comes when you begin again. Let it in to sweep away fear and doubt, to fill you with new hope.

Have courage and just begin.     

I need answers.

I need answers.

 

I think we all have that area in our lives that needs to be clarified, straightened out, explained. I remember one time last semester when I had a (gold star) blonde moment at the office but it tuned into one of those conversations with God that revealed my own heart to me.

I had to call my supervisor who was out of the office that day, so I called her from my cell phone. At the exact same moment I heard her phone ring on the other end of the call, the office phone rang. So I hung up on my supervisor and answered the office phone. "Teacher Education, this is Tori." But no one was there. Good, because I really need to talk to Ms. Jen. I picked up my cell phone and called her again. And again the office phone rang right away. I looked at the caller ID to see if it was someone I could call back and was exceedingly confused to see my number there. I sat there for probably 10 seconds, one phone ringing in my ear and the other ringing on the desk, trying to understand what was going on. And everyone less blonde than myself has already figured it out... I was calling my own self.

 

 

{How many times in life do we "call ourselves" instead of calling God?}

 

I was trying to talk to my supervisor who could help me sort out a problem I had but the only one I could get a hold of was me. And I couldn't help me.

The same thing happens to us in our lives when we look somewhere else besides God for help, answers, direction, or comfort. We can't look inside ourselves or to other people and find what we need. It's just not there. All we find are empty words and more questions. Why? Because it's a closed circuit. You can't answer your own questions; you can't comfort your own heart.

But when you call out? You find everything you need.  

 

It makes so much sense but I'm usually the first one I ask even though I know I don't know the answer. God knows that weakness of humanity and maybe that's why He says so many times, "Call on ME and I will answer."

 

When I talk to me, I become more confused, more frightened, more worried, more prideful and less compassionate, less focused, less likely to act on faith. When I talk to God I become "like a spring of water whose waters do not fail," full of joy in His salvation, upheld by the generosity of His Spirit, as bold as a lion. He becomes my defense, my glory, my shield, my reward, my guide, the director of my steps and the banner of truth that defines me.

 

There are wise people in your life that you should seek counsel from, of course. There is great value in hearing another perspective but never let someone else's words replace God's words. They are painful sometimes, maybe hard to hear. But they are always truth. The wisest of us has given bad advice or spoken wrongly but God never has. He never does. And He will never will. He is not a human given to emotion and change. He is eternally steadfast and unmovable in who He is.

 

 

 

"Call upon Me in the day of trouble, and I will deliver you, and you shall glorify Me."

Psalm 50:15

 

The day it all began

Christmas.

That word sparks a thousand images in our minds, some of them good, some of them... less than pleasant. As a child, I (tried) to patiently wait the agonizingly long month between Thanksgiving and Christmas and by the Christmas Eve service at church, all I wanted to do was go to sleep so I could wake up and it would be Christmas.

And then I grew up.

And that terrible thing that happens to children when they turn into adults (that all children swear won't happen to them) happened to me. I saw suffering on one side of the globe and disgusting excess on the other. I heard people who love each other tear each other down with their words because of the stress of "the holidays." There was no "peace on earth" and very little "goodwill toward men" going around. People were still acting like people, just dressed up in fancy holiday clothes.

And it made me cynical.

I know, I know. I'm 23 years old and I just called myself cynical. But its true. "What's the point?" I asked myself. "Why do we do this every year!"

The point is this: Jesus.

The woman in the sparkly, red Christmas dress needs Jesus. The exhausted Wal-Mart employee who has dealt with the sparkly, red Christmas dress need Jesus. The 5-year old son of the Wal-Mart employee needs Jesus. The 5-year old son's teacher needs Jesus. The teacher's husband needs Jesus.
You need Jesus.
I need Jesus.

When you look around you and see the fighting and cold shoulders and stress induced outbursts that everyone makes jokes of for the rest of the year, you're looking at the reason we have Christmas at all.

Because that's human nature. That's why we need Jesus. To save us from ourselves, and for that He gave Himself. He took on our flesh so we could take on His nature.

Sometimes people call Christmas Jesus' birthday, and, I suppose, that's true. But it's so much more than that. The Christmas Jesus is a sweet, tiny baby. The bloody Jesus on the cross is for Easter. It would be more comfortable to keep Him there- to not get the manger dirty with blood. But that's impossible, for they are one and the same Jesus. Because of Christmas, Easter happened. Because of Christmas Pentecost happened. And because of Christmas Revelation 21 and 22 will happen. Christmas day it all began.

It's that day that the great divide between men and God was breached. The day the Champion entered the ring. The day heaven and earth kissed.  The day hope was renewed in tired, watchful souls. The day light came into darkness. The day of the Bridegroom. The day that promises made in the Garden of Eden were kept.

Jesus said, "Abraham rejoiced to see My day, and he saw it and was glad." Let's follow Abraham's example and rejoice this Christmastime. Be happy and enjoy the festivities and uniquely Christmas activities, yes. But most of all, rejoice that salvation came to you. Revel in who Jesus is, both baby and man, and what He did in the manger and on the cross.