Faith, Hope, and Love

At the beginning of 2015, I tried something new. I had given up resolutions many years before, and decided to try picking a word for the year instead . My word was intentional . It felt like a good word. I wanted to be more intentional about my career, and so in 2015 I pursued different opportunities to get back into writing and the editorial world. I wanted to be more intentional about my creative hobbies, like writing and photography, and so I looked at a lot of different class options and made some new contacts. I wanted to be more intentional about my relationships--mostly friendships, but also in the romance category. And so I said "yes" to things I was tempted to say "no" to, and signed up for things at church and beyond in order to get involved and meet more people. I wanted to be more intentional about my health, and did a barre class once a week for a while. And drank more water, and ate healthy in general. I wanted to be more intentional at ...

In some Christian circles, it is the "thing" to ask people their salvation story. How did you come to know the Lord? It is often on mission trip applications, volunteer forms, and it might even comes up when you're meeting your new boyfriend's friends, mentors or family. Someone, somewhere is going to ask. Tell us your testimony. This has always made me a little uncomfortable, or sometimes even rubbed me the wrong way. And then I'd feel guilt. Shouldn't I be excited to share my story? To shout from the rooftops the story of how God saved me, redeemed me, made me whole? So why do I feel a little bit of discomfort or shame when I think of my story? Of the place where I first met the Lord? It's taken me a while, but I realized it boiled down to one thing: I don't remember it.  I don't remember the day, the time, the moment where I first surrendered to His call and embraced the message of the Gospel. I grew up in a Christian home. When I w...

When I look in the mirror, what do I see? To what do I attribute my identity? To get ready for my upcoming mission trip to India, we've been asked to "tell our story," and I'm struggling a lot with that. While I know  that being a Christian allows me to walk in grace, to leave behind shame and guilt and to see myself in all the beauty that God seems me (Easter was/is a good reminder of all that)... I don't always feel  that way and struggle to really embrace His truth about who I am. Instead, I think of all the labels I wear--daughter, sister, teacher, writer, friend, ex-girlfriend, Miss (versus Mrs.)--and I see a lot of failure. Failure as a daughter when I think of my years of rebellion and disobedience, when I don't call enough, or feel known by my parents (or even really know them). Failure as a sister because of all the years we lost being the closest friends we could be, and how I often take my siblings for granted. Failure as a teacher when I ...

3 ...We also celebrate in seasons of suffering because we know that when we suffer we develop endurance, 4 which shapes our characters. When our characters are refined, we learn what it means to hope and anticipate God’s goodness . 5 And hope will never fail to satisfy our deepest need because the Holy Spirit that was given to us has flooded our hearts with God’s love. Romans 5:3-5 ( The Voice )    

I haven't been to church in what feels like, and probably is,  months . I just got tired of church hopping. After living in Houston for almost a year, I had been to at least eight different churches. And while there were a few churches I went to for weeks at a time, I hated the awkward, out-of-place feeling I had while there. I just wanted the whole thing to be over with. I just wanted to belong somewhere. And then one Sunday, there was an excuse not to go visit a new church or go to an old one. Can't remember what it was. But oh, what a slippery slope that became. Suddenly there was an excuse for every Sunday. I was out of town. I didn't feel well. I was going to be late. And then the day came when I decided, why bother until I know where I'm going to live next? I was ready to put an end to the church hopping routine and settle down, but I couldn't do that until I was settled, right? If my dad ever reads this, I know he'll be appalled. As would probably my...