Faith, Hope, and Love

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...

So just before I left for this mission trip, I re-read and finished the Gallagher Girl series by Ally Carter (awesome author, by the way). So... I'm going to take a page out of Cammie Morgan's book and create a pro and con list for everything I've experienced so far and what I've been taking away from this mission trip (also the amazing sisterhood I've seen among the daughters of As Our Own kind of reminds me of the GG sisterhood... only this one is real and a lot more life-changing, in my opinion). While the approach might be a little tounge-in-check/silly, there are two things I want to point out: There are infinitely more pros than cons. Many of the cons are actually just pros in disguise. Writing both out is in a way recording the little and big joys and gifts of this trip. Whether pro or con, I've learned so much about me, God, my relationships with Him and others. I'm still processing, and I don't feel radically different right now, but I a...

How is God calling us to care for the oppressed and the fatherless? As Christians we tend to do good works often--we spend a day volunteering or we donate a certain sum of money. We do our due diligence. We tell ourselves that we've made their lives better than it could or would have been. It's easy to think that providing a place for them to live, feeding them, and meeting basic survival needs is enough. But is it really? Earlier this week, one of my devotions was on identifying with the poor. It started out looking at Nehemiah 5: 14-18. Nehemiah was governor of the land, and his position entitled him to many great perks. But knowing that his people were poor, that they were suffering, led him to forsake what was rightfully his for their benefit and for God's glory. After all, isn't that what Jesus did for us? "Have in mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be ...

This summer, I have the opportunity to go to India and serve with As Our Own , an organization that rescues young girls from the sex trafficking industry and raises each of them as their own daughters. The provide for all their needs and they remain a part of their family even after they go to college, get married and have daughters (or sons) of their own. As part of our preparation for the trip, each of us going had to share "our story." What pivotal milestones had led us to where we are now? How had God prepared us for this time and this place? I was very hesitant to do this, and struggled for a week and a half, trying to decide what to share. I've been a Christian more or less my whole life. And yes, I do know that you aren't born  a Christian. At some point each person has to answer God's call on their own. I just don't remember exactly  when I did that. My dad is a clergyman and started a church the year I was born. I was always involved in things ...

Over the course of fifty-five days, the IF:Gathering lead women through the book of John with their IF:Equip initiative. We read a passage from the Bible and then ask/answer these three questions: If this is true, then what does it say about God? About you? About the world? They end each reading with a video of some awesome ladies sharing their own thoughts about that particular passage. I did a horrible job keeping up with the readings. In general, I do a horrible job about having a consistent, meaningful time meditating on His word. Something I'm working on--I get e-mail devotions, I'm part of a Bible study group, I carry my Bible in my purse at all times--but I still suck at consistency. With that being said, IF:Equip has wrapped up the book of John and is now moving on to the book of Acts (which my church just finished walking through over the last two years. Might be interested to read through it again and listen to insight from a different perspectives). So, I d...

I can be a major worrier. I hate making decisions because I worry whether or not the choice I don't make would have been the better choice. I worry that others will hate my choices. That I will regret them. Every time I moved, I worried that I wouldn't make new friends,  find a good church, or end up hating my new apartment. I worry that I am not kind enough, or perhaps I'm too kind. That I am not giving enough, or that I give too much. That I am too aggressive, or perhaps too passive. I just worry about everything.  It's actually quite silly. Earlier this week, I heard someone else share about how much of a worrier she can be too. And her place of encouragement,  what calms her and eases her worry are birds. Every time she sees a bird, she stops worrying. The birds remind her of Matthew 6:25-34. Specifically verse 26--"Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns,  and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not ...

I grew up in the church. My dad was my very first pastor. He gave me my first Bible. He baptized me. Most of my childhood was spent living in (or very close) to a seminary and therefore between home and church, I was surrounded by other Christians. In fact, it probably wasn't until I hit high school that I had any close friends who didn't believe in Christ and didn't go to church every Sunday (and most likely on Wednesdays, too). I don't really remembered the day I definitely asked Christ into my life. Although, I do remember something about a 5,000 piece puzzle. Walking into our bedroom and watching sunlight filter onto the unfinished piece, illuminating it in a way I thought was beautiful. Somewhere in that moment, I knew. There definitely was a God and I wanted Him to make me just as beautiful. Whether that's a figment of my overactive imagination, or how I really came to "accept Christ," I really don't know. But I do know that over the yea...